Archive of Our Own ^beta

CHAPTER ONE

Michael had always envied his twin. 

The one who had defied their father but still lived to tell the tale. The son who had carved his own path and fought for free will. 

The one who had left him behind. 

It left a bitter taste on Michael’s tongue, the realisation that his twin had been right all along. It had hit him like a physical blow that left him reeling with disgust. 

He had prided himself on his unwavering loyalty to his father, his willingness to follow orders without question. But now the truth lay bare before him, shattering the illusion of father’s love and respect. 

They had been nothing more than pawns in father’s ruthless game, manipulated and exploited for his own selfish purposes.

Their father had used them like tools then had discarded them like broken toys, leaving them to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. 

Lucifer had been the first. 

The favourite son, the one who had shone so brightly. Too curious for his own good.  

Michael had felt Lucifer's fall from grace, the agony of every bit of pain; every burn inflicted on his twin as he fell. It had nearly driven him insane hearing Lucifer's screams and pleas for mercy. The bond they shared ensured he had felt everything. 

He had begged their father to sever the bond, and God had smiled knowingly. It had been the coward's way out, but he had grabbed it with both hands like a drowning man. He had hated Lucifer for making him feel weak, for making him suffer. 

Michael had been a fool to think servitude and obedience would gain him his fathers love. No matter how hard he had tried, nothing had ever been good enough. 

As Commander of the Heavenly Armies, the Prince of Heaven….Michael thought that his father could finally see him. 

What a fool he had been.  

An imperfect angel ………….was no angel at all. 

A memory washed over him with a tidal wave of images and emotions that transported him back. 

Father had demoted and stripped him of all his titles. Everything he had worked so hard for, gone in an instant. 

With shame, he remembered falling to his knees and begging his father to heal him, to make him strong, to be whole once more. 

Michael's heart had pounded in his chest as he stood before his father. Hands clenched tightly on his father’s robe.

God’s eyes had been filled with contempt.  

"You are my greatest mistake." 

Michael's grip on the robe tightened making his knuckles white. He had trained tirelessly, pushing his body to its limits, but it was never enough. 

He would never be enough! 

With a sudden surge of anger, God lunged forward, his powerful hands grasping Michael's wrists in a vice-like grip and wrenched Michael's hands from the robe.

His father snarled, his voice echoing through the vast chamber. 

"You are nothing but a pathetic excuse for an angel. You’re a disgrace."

Michael's eyes welled up with tears, but he refused to let them fall. He would not give his father the satisfaction of seeing his weakness..

Michael stood there, hands trembling, and his heart heavy with despair. He knew his father would never accept him as he was. 

“It seems even I make mistakes.  It should have been you I threw into Hell!”

Then God had disappeared like a whisper in the wind. 

The words had cut into his very soul, like a knife to his chest.   

Consumed with anger and jealousy, Michael had flown to Earth. He had wanted to taste and sample the life his father had denied him. 

He deserved more than this mockery of an existence. Michael wondered what it was like to be free, to be loved. 

It was a risky move, one that could easily spiral into chaos, but Michael was determined to see it through.

He envied the life Lucifer had built for himself on Earth, a life filled with love, laughter, and acceptance. Everything Michael longed for.

So, with a mix of trepidation and excitement, Michael had stepped into Lucifer's shoes. He had mimicked Lucifer's mannerisms, his speech patterns, even his signature smirk.

At first, it had been a thrilling game of deception. Michael had revelled in the novelty of it all, the excitement of slipping into someone else's skin, of navigating a world he had only observed from afar.

He slowly found himself drawn to Lucifer's friends, a motley crew of individuals who welcomed him with open arms. He learned their quirks, their dreams, and their fears, becoming a part of their lives he had never dared to dream.

He carried the weight of his secret, a burden that grew heavier with each passing day. 

Guilt gnawed at him, he had stolen his brother's life, his identity, and with it, the love and acceptance he had craved for so long. These humans that Lucifer called friends, he had started to care for them.  

The charade was never meant to last; he had just wanted a taste of a better life. 

But so far, a month had passed and each day it grew harder to let go. 

He knew he couldn't keep up the pretence forever, but the thought of losing the life he had built, the connections he had forged, hurt.

The final straw was when Chloe tried to kiss him by the coffee machine at the precinct.  

Chloe was beautiful, smart and brave and he could feel how much she loved his twin.  

Yes, he could admit, he was a dick, but he wasn't evil. He had grown to admire Chloe, and under different circumstances they probably could have been friends. 

She didn't deserve his lies. 

He had made a mistake, a grave one, and he knew he had to come clean. He had to tell her the truth, no matter how painful it would be. Reaching out, Michael touched her arm to get her attention. 

"Chloe, I need to tell you something."

But before he could continue, a dark figure emerged from the shadows, casting an ominous shadow over the room. It was Lucifer, his eyes burning red with anger, his face contorted in rage.

In a swift, brutal motion, Lucifer lunged at Michael, his fists connected with Michael's face with a sickening thud. Michael stumbled back, his vision blurred and his ears ringing.

Michael could see hellfire burning in his brother's eyes.

“How bloody dare you, you weaselly little rat.”

Lucifer rained down blows on Michael's body, each one leaving a mark of his fury. Michael tried to defend himself, but Lucifer wouldn't give him an inch.

Chloe watched in horror and confusion, her heart pounding in her chest as Lucifer stood over Michael. His chest heaved as his eyes glinted with malice.

"Did you think I’d let you of all beings, deceive her?" 

Michael lay on the floor, his body bruised and battered, and his spirit broken. 

Chloe looked at Michael, her eyes filled with pity and regret. 

"Stay away from my friends and those I love……….. If I see you again," 

Lucifer’s voice was laced with menace, 

"I will finish you!"

The hell forged blade had been the ultimate insult as Lucifer carved a deep line across his face. 

The blade had burnt while it marked his perfect skin. They would never look alike ever again.  

Chloe was horrified by what she was witnessing. It shocked her that Lucifer could harm his twin in such a brutal manner. Intervening, she insisted Lucifer let Michael go before they either killed each other or were arrested. 

Reluctantly, Lucifer listened and released his twin. 

Chloe winced as she took in the wound on Michael’s face.

“Pass me the first aid kit, Lucifer.” 

Lucifer threw his hands up in protest.

“Detective, please. He can't be trusted!”

Chloe glared at Lucifer, and he shut up immediately and did as she asked.  

Opening the kit, Chloe rummaged around till she found some antiseptic wipes. Passing them to Michael she instructed him to clean the wound. 

“That may need stitches. Keep it clean and go get it checked out. And You,”   

Chloe stabbed her finger into Lucifer's chest…….

“What were you thinking, bringing a blade into the precinct?”

Turning to Michael she jabbed his chest too.

“And you…… who do you think you are pretending to be your brother? I almost kissed you.”

Chloe had had enough, she slammed the door behind her and made her way back to her desk.

Lucifer; the ever faithful puppy, trailed off after her oblivious to Michael’s crumpled form on the ground. 

Michael watched Lucifer approach Chloe and pull her into an embrace. 

This was as good a time as any to leave, so he headed for the stairs hoping to avoid being seen. He just wanted to slip out and disappear.

The car park was dimly lit as Michael wandered through the maze of parked cars. As he stood amongst the rows of empty vehicles, a wave of self pity washed over him as he walked. 

He wanted to belong, to be seen, to be accepted. The real Michael, the one hidden beneath the layers of self doubt and insecurity.

Michael felt so lost. Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, the heavens opened, drenching him to the bone. 

He wished he could go back and undo what he had done. To make things right, but he knew he couldn't.  

Michael looked at his reflection in a puddle and took in the newly formed scar and blood. He hated his life; he hated his father. Damn it, he even hated himself.  

“Well, that was a disaster!” 

They had always been rivals, but his twin always seemed to land on his feet and get everything he wanted. Lucifer had charm and charisma. Michael felt like his shadow, a second-rate son, eclipsed by the brightness of Lucifer. Michael felt like he faded into the woodwork, the forgotten son, overshadowed by his bright other half.

So much time had passed, and Michael realised they were little more than strangers now, who may or may not hate each other. 

CHAPTER TWO

The city lights seemed to mock his misery, passersby glanced at him with a mix of curiosity and pity. Michael felt the silent stares as they took in his bloodied scar. 

But he walked on, his head bowed to avoid their prying eyes, his own fixed on the ground as he wandered aimlessly. 

Rummaging through his pockets, his fingers brushed against his money clip. A stark reminder of his dwindling funds. 

“Damn this rain.”

Through the drizzle, something caught his eye. A strange little motel appeared in the distance, its neon sign casting a vulgar glow against the darkness. It looked cheap but friendly. At least it would give him a chance to get out of his wet clothes. 

He stepped inside the foyer and sniffed; the air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and stale cigarette smoke. The receptionist was a young woman with a perpetual smile and bright red hair. 

On the counter sat a rotund ginger cat, its coat gleamed a deep shade of marmalade in the dim light. The feline lay sprawled across the reception desk, its emerald eyes fixed on Michael with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.   

The receptionist eyed him suspiciously, her gaze lingering on his worn-out wet clothes and his raw and bloodied scar.

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips, to deflect her attention.

“You should see the other guy!”

She lingered for a moment, her eyes filled with empathy. 

Leaning forward she gently scratched behind the cat's ear, eliciting a deep, rumbling purr that vibrated.

"Don't mind Butterball. He's our resident pest control officer. And he's quite the softie. You can pet him, he won't mind."

Michael, unlike his twin, had always had a soft spot for cats. He found their independent nature and enigmatic demeanour to be endlessly fascinating. He admired their ability to manipulate their human companions into giving them what they wanted, regardless of their own needs or desires.

Butterball, as if sensing Michael's admiration, stretched and groomed himself, his tail swishing lazily from side to side. 

Having completed his grooming ritual, Butterball stretched out languorously, his belly rising and falling like a soft wave. Michael extended a hand towards the cat, and it nuzzled his fingers.  

“A single for one night is $59.50 Mister.”

Michael handed over the last remains of his cash and paid for his room. 

The girl handed him a set of keys with a plastic cup attached to the keyring. Its vibrant red hue contrasted sharply against the worn leather. She held up the keys, dangling them playfully in front of him, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Room 69, down the corridor on the first floor," she instructed, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "The cups are so no one pinches the keys."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her unconventional security measure. It was a quirky touch that reflected the motel's laid-back charm.

He mumbled a quick “Thank you,” and took the keys, his fingers brushing against the smooth plastic cup. It was a simple object, yet it held a certain intrigue. 

With a nod, he turned and headed towards the elevator; the cup swinging gently from the keyring. 

The room was small and dingy; the walls adorned with faded wallpaper that was peeling at the edges, revealing the bare plaster beneath. Minimalist was all he could describe it as. The furniture didn’t match but there was a bed, and it was a roof over his head. 

The weight of the day, its burdens and uncertainties, pressed heavily upon his shoulders. With a sigh that escaped his lips like a wisp of smoke, he toed off his shoes and they clattered against the threadbare carpet.

The mattress called to him like a welcoming oasis, its promise of solace beckoned him closer. He collapsed onto its surface, his body sinking into the soft embrace of the worn fabric. 

He contemplated having a shower but found that he really couldn't be bothered. Exhaustion swept over him. It had been quite a day.

Peeling off his wet clothes he draped them over the bedside chair next to the radiator. He hoped they would be dry by morning, the clothes on his back were all he had. 

Pulling the blanket over his body, the warmth of the fabric enveloped him and shielded him from the harsh realities of the world outside.

Sleep, however, was elusive as he tossed and turned in his bed. 

Through the thin wall, Michael could hear two voices in the throes of a heated argument. Sighing in frustration, he pulled the pillow over his head to drown out the noise a s his eyes finally fluttered shut and the world around him faded into a blur.

CHAPTER THREE 

Michael jolted awake to the sound of a fist pounding on his motel door. 

The harsh glare of the morning sun pierced through the gaps in the curtains, casting an unwelcome spotlight on his dishevelled state. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, the remnants of sleep clinging to his consciousness like stubborn cobwebs.

The pounding intensified, accompanied by a stern voice that echoed through the thin walls of the motel room. 

"Police, open up!"

Michael dragged himself out of bed, his legs heavy and his mind still clouded with sleep. Thankfully, there was a dressing gown on the back of the bathroom door, which he slipped on and stumbled forward to see who it was.  

The carpet had bald patches and his bare feet protested against the cold motel floor. As he reached for the doorknob, he felt a wave of fear wash over him.

As the door creaked open, Michael stood face to face with the last two people he'd ever expected to see again. His heart sank like a stone.

Before him stood Chloe Decker, her once radiant face now etched with a mix of anger, betrayal, and deep concern. Her hand was outstretched, a gun firmly gripped in her palm, the dark muzzle pointed directly at his chest.

Beside her stood his twin, his usual devil-may-care demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief, were now cold and steely, their gaze piercing Michael's soul like a sharpened blade.

"Don't try anything, Michael, the bullets are demon steel.”

Michael stood in silence, confused as to why they had come looking for him. 

"Don’t pretend you don't know, brother.”

Lucifer leaned forward into Michael’s face.

"The receptionist was found dead about an hour ago, well ….. what was left of her, anyway."  

Chloe's eyes never left Michael's face.  

"And you were the last person to see her alive."

Michael's mind raced, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. He had checked into the motel late, his mind preoccupied with the events that had led him to this desolate place. He had barely exchanged a few words with the receptionist, but he remembered she had been a pleasant young woman with a warm smile and a friendly demeanour. 

"And, a raging inferno consumed the room next to you. Care to explain any of this?"

Michael had no memory of a fire, but the underlying accusation hung like a heavy cloud over him.

"What did you do, Michael?" 

Chloe’s voice was laced with concern and suspicion.

Michael opened his mouth to protest, to deny any involvement in the murder or the fire, but the words caught in his throat. He didn't have to explain himself to anyone; he was innocent. 

Michael glared upwards. Someone was definitely having a joke at his expense. 

He had tried to get away from them both, to move on. But the universe seemed to have other ideas. This was turning into a bloody nightmare.

Chloe was accusing him of murder and arson, and his arse of a brother was loving every single minute of his discomfort.

In a swift fluid motion, Lucifer lunged at his twin,  seizing Michael’s wrists in a vice-like grip. With a surge of power, he shoved Michael face-first against the wall. 

"We're taking you in for questioning Michael, at the moment you are our prime suspect." 

Chloe holstered her gun and reached for the handcuffs on her belt.

"Michael, all the evidence points to you. You were seen with the victim just hours before her death. And you were the only one with the opportunity to commit the crime."

Michael shook his head vehemently.

"I'm not allowed to kill humans. Dad’s rule 101. No angel is, or didn't Lucifer fill you in on that little titbit!."

Ignoring Michael's pleas, Chloe yanked his hands behind his back and cuffed him. 

“You know I can escape these things any time I want. Unless these are celestial or hell forge, they can't hold me.” 

Michael was pissed. He was up to here being treated like shit.  

With a swift, forceful shove to his shoulder, Lucifer sent his twin stumbling forward.

“If you know what's good for you, you will leave them on.”

As they reached the police car, Chloe motioned for him to get in the back seat, placing her hand on his head to guide him in. Then the door slammed shut in his face. 

Michael glared out through the window, his eyes burning with fury. 

CHAPTER FOUR

Michael sat alone in the sterile, unforgiving confines of the LAPD interview room, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. 

The room was a stark reminder of countless interrogation rooms he had seen over the last month, a place designed to unsettle and unnerve suspects.

Michael remained unfazed. He was well aware of the psychological tactics employed by his former colleagues, the deliberate isolation, the absence of even the most basic amenities, all aimed at breaking down the defences of a suspect. 

The room itself was a testament to its intended purpose. The walls were painted a dull, institutional grey, the only furniture a solitary wooden table and two mismatched chairs. Harsh overhead lighting cast long, menacing shadows that danced across the room, adding to the atmosphere of unease.

Michael's eyes darted towards the small, two-way mirror on the wall, a subtle reminder that he was under constant observation. He knew that behind that mirror sat his twin and Chloe Decker.  

They were probably scrutinising his every move, searching for any sign of guilt.

But Michael had nothing to hide. 

He leaned back in his chair, trying to maintain an air of composure, to project an image of calm amidst the chaos. He knew they would carefully assess his demeanour, that any twitch, any flicker of emotion could be misconstrued as a sign of guilt.

Folding his arms across his chest he glared at the two-way mirror, a glint in his eyes as he stuck out his tongue in defiance. A gesture of rebellion to his audience behind the glass. 

…………………………

Chloe and Lucifer had been observing Michael through the two-way mirror for several hours, and it was taking its toll on them both. 

Forensics had unearthed a CCTV recording from a building opposite Michael’s motel room, and they were cautiously optimistic that it would provide all the incriminating evidence they needed. 

“Was he lying about angels not being able to kill humans?”

Lucifer exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving the figure behind the glass. 

“No, he wasn't lying.”

Chloe tilted her head to one side and opened her mouth to reply, but Lucifer held his hand up to continue. 

“Unlike myself, Michael can lie. He may not have done the deed himself, but it's possible he may have influenced someone else to do it. I just don't understand why.”

His mind reeled, grappling with the absurdity of the situation. Why, in Hell’s name, would Michael willingly violate father's one rule regarding humans? It was already a bitter pill to swallow that Michael had tried to steal his life, even dared to make advances on Chloe. But this was beyond comprehension. Something definitely didn't add up.

Ella chose that moment to pop her head around the door, her face etched with a mixture of relief and surprise.

"We've got the CCTV footage, I've set it up on the laptop for you." 

This was the evidence they had been waiting on. Chloe needed a confession and Lucifer wanted answers.

"Cut to the chase, what does it show?" 

Chloe’s voice was sharp with anticipation.

Ella took a deep breath and launched into her explanation. 

“The security camera opposite Michael's motel room showed he didn't leave his room all night. In fact, it had a bird's-eye view into his room.”

Ella had watched that footage more than once, the muscular figure had transfixed her, watching him sprawled across the bed. His broad shoulders, sculpted arms, and the subtle lines of his abdomen had been a sight to behold. 

She had definitely appreciated the eye candy. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the realisation that she had never thought about Lucifer in that way, so why would she be attracted to his twin. 

Ella looked up to see Chloe and Lucifer staring at her with confused looks on their faces. Damn, she was being so unprofessional. 

“That dude sleeps like the dead, didn't even wake up when the fire started, or when the fire crew came to put it out.”

Ella couldn't believe someone could sleep so heavily. 

“Damn, he was lucky his room didn't burn to the ground. He must have a guardian angel watching over him!”

Ella laughed and noticed that Lucifer's face had turned a strange shade of puce.

Reaching up to her neck, Ella delicately traced the contours of the cross pendant that hung there. Her gaze darted around the room, subtly assessing the atmosphere before offering a polite cough to clear the air.

“Anyway, that's not all we captured on the CCTV. We have a figure clad in a black hoodie manhandling the victim as they approach the room next to Michael’s. The timestamp shows it's about 4.30 am. They both enter the room. Then at 5.05 am the hooded figure reemerges from the room; alone, carrying a large object that could have been the murder weapon. The figure then disappeared from view, then the room was engulfed in flames.”

Lucifer remained silent, his eyes fixated on the floor. The weight of the evidence could no longer deny the possibility that his twin was innocent.

Chloe's eyes darted between Lucifer and Ella’s, her mind racing to process the implications.

“We have to release him, and he needs a place to stay.” 

Regardless of what stunts he had pulled on her, Chloe wouldn't see him on the streets. 

“Chloe, you can't seriously be suggesting he stay with me?”

He would do anything for his Detective, but this was a step too far. 

Michael may not be the murderer he had so vehemently believed him to be, but he couldn't be trusted. 

“You have plenty of guest rooms above Lux, Lucifer.”

Chloe flapped her arms, trying to impersonate wings as Lucifer rolled his eyes in disgust. 

“He’s a flight risk! Besides, we might need to question him at a later date.”

Lucifer sighed, he knew he would have to agree, albeit reluctantly to Chloe's request. Pinching his nose, he could feel a headache coming on, which should have been impossible. Because, when did the devil start getting migraines?

Chloe was right. Michael could take to the skies and fly off, and they needed him here. 

“Witnesses have recalled crucial details that they initially deemed insignificant. I hate to admit it, but we need him.”

…………………….  

Chloe swung open the door, her presence filling the room as Lucifer trailed behind her like her obedient shadow. Striding towards Michael, her hand brandished the key to his cuffs like a trophy. 

"Your story checked out." 

A surge of relief washed over Michael and his face lit up with a triumphant grin. But his joy was short-lived as Chloe's words cut through his euphoria. 

"Not so fast Michael." 

Lucifer’s palm gently held onto his shoulder forcing him to remain seated.

 "We have released you on the proviso you stay at Lux. We may have further questions for you down the line. So don't even think about leaving LA, or Earth."

Michael's smile faltered, replaced by a groan of frustration. Being under the constant watch of his twin was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want a babysitter.

“Are you kidding me? I think I’d rather spend the night in prison.”

Releasing the cuffs, Chloe shook her head. Michael wasn't so different from Lucifer when rattled. They could both be bitchy, spiteful and childish. 

………………………..

In the confines of the sleek black Corvette, Lucifer's knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel with a vice-like grip. Beneath his breath, a stream of venomous insults flowed like a river, directed at Michael.

Michael sat silently in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed out the window. He was lost in his own world, a place where Lucifer's insults were nothing more than a distant hum.

The city blurred past as Lucifer drove like a madman; flooring the accelerator, exceeding the speed limits and taking corners with handbrake turns. 

As the city lights faded into the distance, the silence between them deepened. Lucifer's insults trailed off, his anger subsiding into a simmering resentment. Michael continued to stare out the window, his thoughts adrift in a sea of regret and disappointment.

After parking in the underground car park, Lucifer made his way to his private elevator. He had expected Michael to follow him, but Michael just sat in the car, his shoulders slumped and his head hung low. 

Michael had always been an arrogant prick, never one to back down. Seeing his twin look so defeated didn't sit right with Lucifer. 

“Come on, let's not take all day Michael.”

Reluctantly, Michael hauled himself from the passenger seat and stumbled towards the elevator. Lucifer pressed the button for the floor to the guest rooms, and they rode in silence. 

Lucifer's eyes darted to Michael's face, taking in the ugly, festering wound he had inflicted on his twin. He winced as saw the jagged flesh, red and inflamed. A stark reminder of his violent outburst. A scar that would forever mark his twin's perfect face. 

A sharp pang of guilt tugged at Lucifer's gut. He had lost control, blinded by his anger. Yeah, Michael had deserved to have his arse handed to him, but he had gone too far.

He usually prided himself on having some self-control, but in that moment when he had seen Michael with Chloe, he had succumbed to the darkness that everyone said lurked within him. He had become the monster he always feared that he was. 

The vivid image of Chloe’s horrified expression flashed across his mind. Her eyes, usually filled with love and understanding, had been clouded with shock and disappointment. 

The elevator doors slid open, and they both stepped out, the silence continuing as they made their way down the corridor. 

As they reached the guest room, Lucifer paused, his hand hovered over the doorknob. 

In the dimly lit confines of the hall, Lucifer and Michael faced each other, their expressions hardened and their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Lucifer's gaze filled with a mixture of anger, betrayal, and a desperate yearning for understanding. Michael's eyes reflected a mix of guilt, remorse, and a desire to make amends.

"Michael," 

Lucifer’s voice was a low growl. 

"I'm sorry I cut your face. But why did you steal my life, my friends, and try to take Chloe from me? I'm struggling to understand."

Michael looked into Lucifer's eyes, he wanted him to see he was telling the truth this time. No more lies. 

"After you fell……" 

Michael’s voice was heavy with regret, 

"After that, Dad became distant and stopped speaking to his children. No one knew what to do, they were confused. I tried to restore order, to be a role model to our siblings, but I was never good enough."

Lucifer wondered where his twin was going with this.

"After I was injured, father took everything from me," his voice trembled with emotion. 

"He stripped me of my positions, my authority, and even my name. He called me 'His Greatest Mistake,' the one who had brought shame upon our family. I just wanted a life, to be loved, to be respected. But no one saw me as anything more than a burden, a reminder of his failure."

Lucifer didn't understand, Michael had always been God’s right-hand man. What had happened for that to change.

"I was the first disabled angel. And father wouldn't accept anything less than perfection. He saw my injury as a sign of weakness, a flaw that made me unworthy of his love or respect."

A flicker of sympathy crossed Lucifer's face. He could relate to the feeling of being inadequate, of always trying to live up to someone else's standards. He had spent centuries haunted by his father's expectations, feeling like he could never measure up.

Lucifer's eyes were drawn to Michael's left shoulder, and noted he was holding it lower than his right. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was all he could see. He felt a surge of anger towards his father, for his intolerance and his inability to see the true worth of all his children.

“I tried to tell everyone that he was a shitty father, and look where that got me. A one-way trip to the fiery dumpster of eternal suffering.”

Michael winced at the reminder that his twin had been trapped in Hell for aeons before escaping to Earth. 

"I wasn't thinking straight, look I'm sorry. I wanted a life like you had built for yourself here on Earth. So when you went back to Hell to control your demons, I grasped the opportunity." 

Michael continued, his voice filled with determination. 

"I thought that if I borrowed your life, I would have everything that I had been denied by father. But I was fooling myself, it was all an illusion."

Lucifer was really trying to understand his twin's reasoning.

"But you didn't have to steal my life, you just had to leave the Silver City, Michael. You could have just come to me and asked for my help."

Michael shook his head sadly. 

"I was the one that was commanded to throw you into Hell. You wouldn’t have been as accommodating as you think. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’ve hurt many people, including you. And for that, I am truly sorry."

Lucifer sighed, his anger subsiding as he saw the genuine remorse in Michael's eyes.

"I know, and you will apologise to them all."

But something had caught his attention.  

Father had commanded Michael to throw him into Hell, he hadn't done it of his own free will. It seemed he had gotten a lot wrong about his brother, perhaps he wasn't such a weaselly little rat after all.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ella had returned to the remains of the fire, she was sure that they had missed something important. There was no such thing as ‘the perfect murder’. Evidence was always there, just waiting to be found. All she had to do was find it. 

It was fascinating, trying to figure out how someone had died, how they had felt in their last moments. Her parents had thought it was morbid, but Ella knew her job was important. Forensics meant the difference between a conviction and a suspect being released. 

So here she was on a Saturday morning at 8am, meticulously sifting through the debris. 

Ella coughed as the air was filled with the smell of burnt wood and plastic. Looking around, the walls were charred and blackened.  

As she wandered around the room, she could see the outlines of furniture, the bed now just a pile of ash.  

Ella’s eyes were drawn to a sudden glimmer of light amidst the debris. The sun, high in the sky, had cast a ray upon a small, metallic object lying half-buried in the ashes by the door.

With gloved hands, she carefully unearthed the object, revealing a delicate silver locket, its surface tarnished and soot-covered but still bearing the faintest hint of its original elegance. 

Anticipation surged through Ella’s veins as she held the locket in her palm. She would need to run DNA tests to see if they could lift anything that could give them any clues as to who it belonged to. 

The intricately engraved pattern on the locket's front worried her, as a religious person she recognised it immediately. Over many decades, the graphical elements of the sigil have been identified with specific characteristics. A chalice overlaid with an X and a V at the bottom. 

This was the sigil for Lucifer.

“Oh cielos! Lucifer my friend, you're not gonna like this one bit.”

…………………………

Lucifer had been having a lovely dream involving Chloe, and some whipped cream when a large hand shook his shoulder. 

As Lucifer groggily opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of his twin hovering over him with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

Running his finger through his loose curls, Lucifer wiped the sleep from his eyes and stretched.

“I hope you realise I was having a rather pleasant dream before you ruined it.”

Michael handed Lucifer his mobile phone, pointing out the 30 missed calls and text messages from Chloe. 

Lucifer had been so engrossed in his dream that he hadn't noticed his phone ringing.  

In desperation, Chloe had eventually called Patrick, the bartender at Lux who had gone to fetch Michael.

"Time to get up, sleepyhead. Chloe wants us to come into the precinct.”

Lucifer scrunched up his nose. What did Michael mean by ‘us’?

Michael was smirking as he leaned on the doorframe watching Lucifer roll out from under the silk sheets. 

"Yes, us!....... Ella has found something at the murder site. Chloe thinks I might be useful in the investigation and could give a different perspective on things. An extra set of eyes so to speak."

Lucifer was sceptical. Michael had no experience as a consultant, and Lucifer couldn't imagine how his twin could be of any help. However, he knew Chloe wouldn't have called for them both if she didn't think it was important.

When they arrived, Ella and Chloe took them immediately to the interrogation room. 

The room fell silent as Ella spoke, her voice hushed with anticipation. 

"Everybody, please take a seat. I've got something here that I think you're all going to want to see."

With a flourish, she reached into her evidence bag and withdrew the tarnished locket.

The room held its collective breath as she held the locket aloft, its intricate design catching the faint light from the room's overhead fluorescents.

The twins recognised the symbol on it immediately. It was Lucifer’s sigil, the symbol of his power as the fallen angel, and it had belonged to someone who knew what it was and what it meant.

With a glint in her eye, Ella explained what she had found.  

“Well, we found remnants of the victim's blood on the locket. But here is where it gets interesting, we also have a secondary DNA. We are running it through the system to see if there is a match.”

Lucifer signed in relief. That meant they could have their perp in custody soon, but that didn't explain why Chloe needed Michael here.

Ella carefully opened the locket and extracted what looked like a piece of parchment. It looked really old, yellow even in places. Unfolding it, Ella laid it out so everyone could read the contents.

“It's a Death Spell, with instructions on how to cast it.”

Michael gasped at its contents and looked at his twin, Lucifer’s face had lost its colour.  

Then it hit Michael, this had never been about him!

It had always been about Lucifer, and going by his twin's face he had come to the same conclusion.

Someone had followed him thinking he was his twin, then had approached the receptionist to force her into revealing what room he was in.  

Not wanting to leave any witnesses, they had taken the receptionist by force to the room next door to perform the spell.  

The parchment had listed a black candle that had to be used for the spell to work. But of course it hadn't worked, as Lucifer was never there. 

Chloe was confused. 

"Why kill the receptionist and start a fire? That's just crazy."

Michael had definitely heard fighting and shouting when he had tried to get to sleep. 

“Maybe it's not so crazy.”

Lucifer could feel the hellfire in his eyes trying to break free and he struggled to contain it.  

Michael grabbed Lucifer's arm and pulled him around to face him. This was serious. Someone wanted him dead. 

“Who have you pissed off? Who is trying to kill the Devil?”

Ella rolled her eyes...    

“Not you too! Damn, are you both method actors?”.

Then it hit Michael. Ella didn't know!

Ella shook her head and smiled.

“Playing up the Devil persona again, Luce. I've never met anyone so committed to a role.”

Michael saw how genuine her smile was, how bright her soul shone. She was religious, he could tell by the cross around her neck. He knew she could handle the truth, so why hadn’t they brought her into the fold? 

Ella’s eyes fluttered in Michael's direction making him feel slightly uncomfortable with keeping secrets from her. Out of all the humans that had crossed his path, he had felt drawn to her the most. 

“Lucifer, she deserves to know the truth!”

The weight of the secret had been a heavy burden on Lucifer's shoulders for far too long. Ella reminded him so much of his little sister, Azrael.

Lucifer had been drawn to her kindness, her compassion, and her unwavering belief in justice. He cared for her deeply, and he feared that revealing his true identity would drive her away. He didn't want to lose her, but he also felt a pang of guilt for keeping her in the dark.

His eyes drifted to Chloe’s with a knowing look. His reveal, albeit unplanned, to Chloe had not gone down too well. But he was not a coward and Ella deserved to know who she was associating with. He just hoped that she wouldn't run. 

His mouth felt dry, he felt extremely nervous. His eyes darted from Ella to the floor and back.   

“I have always told you the truth Ella, I have never lied. I am the Devil. Please believe me, I would never hurt you. You are like a sister to me and I care about you a great deal.”

Suddenly, everything was filled with a brilliant luminescent white, and the room plunged into silence. 

No one spoke as Ella just stood there staring, her mouth open in shock. 

Lucifer thought they may have made a terrible mistake, had he just broken his friend? 

Then Ella blinked once, twice, then a third time.  

Had she banged her head!  Were her eyes playing tricks or could she see a set of huge badass wings in front of her? 

Ella Lopez stood there, her eyes widened in awe. They were as white as freshly fallen snow, with delicate feathers that shimmered in the light. Ella's heart pounded in her chest as she realised that her crazy, kind friend really was the devil. He had been telling her for years but she hadn't believed him.

Ella had always been a little sceptical of the Bible's portrayal of Satan, the fallen angel who had rebelled against God. She even remembered telling Lucifer the devil got a bad rap. 

He was nothing like the monstrous figure the bible and religion talked about. 

She knew him, really knew him. Lucifer was generous, kind, silly, and lots of fun, with a childlike innocence that was both charming and disarming . Generous to a fault. He always had a mischievous glint in his eye and a twinkle in his smile that could make anyone laugh. 

Ella couldn't help but smile as she looked at his wings. They were truly beautiful. 

Then she giggled. 

“Satan is a pudding thief! …….. Damn, I have so many questions. But a lot of things make so much more sense now.”

She had seen him throwing dudes twice his size through windows with one hand, and he had a way to get people to tell him their innermost desires.  

Ella looked up to see the worried look on both Lucifer and Michael’s faces, they hadn't moved one inch. Hell, they didn't look like they had taken a breath since the reveal. 

“I'm not scared of you Luce. Devil might be your job, but you're still an angel. You didn't change species.”

To prove her point, she moved around the table and pulled Lucifer into one of her famous hugs. Initially he stiffened, still not used to her enthusiastic displays of affection. But then he slowly brought his arms around her to reciprocate the hug.

“You're taking this awfully well, Miss Lopez.”

Ella looked up into Lucifer's beautiful dark eyes and smiled. 

“I'm best friends with the devil.” 

Turning her face towards Michael, she gasped.

“So that would make you the Archangel Michael?”

Michael just smirked, nodded and gave her a little wave. 

Chloe let out a breath that she had been holding. Things could have gone either way, and she remembered with a hint of shame how she had reacted. How she wished she had seen wings instead of Lucifer's devil face. She probably wouldn't have run. But that was all in the past now and they were finally together.  

“So, I believe someone who thought I was Lucifer, followed me.” 

Behind him Michael heard Lucifer snort in disgust. 

“That locket proves this is some religious fanatic, the spell went wrong because they had the wrong twin. The black candle probably started the fire. They murdered the victim as they didn’t want witnesses, or it was an accident and the fire finished her. Either way, someone is out to get you, brother.”

His twin was famous for his devilish charm and wicked grin, but also for attracting trouble like a moth to a flame.

Lucifer had made a lot of enemies in his time, and someone might have decided to ‘OFF THE DEVIL’. 

Michael placed his hand on his twin’s shoulder, his touch filled with a mix of reassurance and determination. Despite their long history of rivalry, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect Lucifer. They were still brothers, and he wanted a chance to reconnect with his twin. 

"I know we haven't always been on the same page, but this is about more than our differences. Someone is out there trying to kill you, and I will not leave you to face this alone."

Lucifer nodded, his lips pressed into a tight line. He was grateful for Michael's support.

Ella picked up the locket and placed it back in the evidence bag.

“Hey, Team Lucifer buddy. I know a lot about cults and religion. I have connections with people on the dark web that I can call in a favour for.”

Now all they had to do was wait for the DNA results. Then they would finally have a name. 

CHAPTER SIX

The night of the murder

A wave of adrenaline surged through her veins as she clutched the locket tightly in her hand, her gaze darted around the chaotic scene unfolding before her. The once peaceful motel lobby was now a scene of panic and commotion, the muffled cries of the receptionist pierced the air.

She had been hunting for Lucifer, her obsessive admiration for the charismatic devil masked by a façade of devotion. Following him relentlessly, attending every performance, purchasing every item he endorsed, and even infiltrating his personal life, posing as a groupie eager to indulge in his devilish charm.

But her obsession had been a carefully constructed ruse, a cover for a far more sinister agenda. For she was no fan of the devil. 

Her grandfather had been the man who had orchestrated the plan to banish Lucifer back to Hell. And, had it worked, the earth would now be safe.  

But it had all gone so wrong, and her grandfather was dead.

The woman, her heart filled with a mixture of anger and determination, vowed to fulfil her grandfather's wishes. She would be the one to kill the Devil and avenge his death. The thought of finally getting revenge for her grandfather's murder filled her with a sense of purpose.

Mapping out his every move over the last 2 weeks, she knew he would be at the precinct. And like clockwork, she had followed him from the dimly lit LAPD parking lot. 

Watching him check in to the Motel; she had waited to ensure he would be asleep, guaranteeing she would take him by surprise. 

Pulling her black hoody up around her face in case the motel had CCTV, she made her move. 

The receptionist was easy to scare. It was amazing what leverage a Kukri Machete gave you. Terrorising the receptionist into revealing the devil's room number had been a piece of cake. But she couldn't let her out of her sight now in case she tried to get help. 

Forcing the receptionist with the blade against her back, she pushed her along the corridor.

With a sense of glee, she was determined to unleash the death spell upon Lucifer, completing what her late relative had failed to achieve. Her name would go down in the history books. 

She felt a surge of anticipation and satisfaction; on the verge of fulfilling her lifelong obsession, and the thrill of the chase was intoxicating. She could almost taste the sweet victory of sending Lucifer back to Hell, where he belonged.

As they entered the room next to the sleeping devil, she tied the receptionist tightly to a chair. She couldn't have her escaping and raising an alarm.  

A ginger tomcat lazily weaved around the receptionist's legs, meowing loudly as the receptionist struggled with her bindings, trying to break free.

“Let me go, you crazy cow.”

With an evil smile, she tutted at the receptionist.

“What a pity you couldn’t keep quiet.”  

Lifting the hilt of the machete, she hit the receptionist across the back of the head. She intended to knock her out, but she had hit her far too hard and the girl was no longer breathing.

There were no signs of emotion as she studied the girl's face.  

“Unfortunately, there are always casualties in war.”

Lighting the black candle, she was excited to begin the spell.

A loud hiss was all the warning she got as the ginger cat’s fur stood on end. His eyes blazed with an eerie green glow as he growled at the woman. 

Startled, she kicked at him, intending to shoo him away, but the cat seemed to take offence at this action. 

With a swift motion, it leaped onto her arm, its claws raking across her skin. The woman yelped in pain as the cat's sharp teeth sank into her forearm and drew blood. 

"Demon!" 

She screamed, struggling to free herself from the creature's grasp. The cat's claws dug deeper into her skin, then it scratched her face. 

Amid her struggle, she felt the locket slip from her grasp. It fell to the ground with a soft thud; the chain breaking. 

The cat, distracted by its prey, momentarily paused its attack to investigate the shiny object. 

Leaping onto the bed, the cat knocked the candle over then darted out through the cat flap. 

The bedsheets immediately ignited, sending a trail of flames licking up towards the curtains. The room filled with acrid smoke, and the sound of crackling flames filled the air, as the fire spread like wildfire.

“NO!!!!!.”

The flames devoured everything in its path, licking at the walls and engulfing the furniture in a dance of destruction. The woman, her heart pounding in her chest, watched in horror as the room transformed into an inferno, the smoke filled her lungs and stung her eyes.

She had no choice but to flee. The heat was intense; the flames threatened to consume her, determination fueled by a primal instinct for survival.

She burst through the front door, the cool night air hitting her like a slap in the face. The fire raged behind her, casting an ominous glow against the night sky. She stumbled away from the burning building, her lungs hurt, and her skin was scorched by the heat.

She had to get away, to find a safe place to regroup, to plan her next move. Tomorrow was another day, and there were other ways to get at the Devil. She would not let this setback deter her.

She would bring down the Devil. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

A mixture of shock and anger consumed Lucifer as he read the police report detailing the events of the past few days. He clutched the report, the paper crackling under his iron grip, the ink seeming to burn his fingertips.

The DNA had given a positive ID on the assailant.

The woman who had attacked the receptionist was none other than Sukie Price, Lucifer’s self-proclaimed groupie. 

He had met her on several occasions, and she had always been a devoted fan, eager to please him in any way she could. He was finding it hard to believe that she could be responsible for such a horrific crime.

But the evidence was undeniable. Her DNA and fingerprints were all over the locket. 

Ella had gone above and beyond via the dark web for information on Sukie Price and the results had been shocking. Sukie had changed her name by deed poll a year ago, her real name was Suzanna Kinley.  

She was the granddaughter of the priest who had tried to poison Lucifer and send him back to hell. 

Father Kinley had been her grandfather, and she had inherited his hatred for Lucifer and his desire for revenge.

Lucifer felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He had thought he had put the past behind him, that he had escaped the clutches of Father Kinley and his schemes. But now it seemed that the priest's influence extended beyond the grave, reaching out to the priest's own family to carry out his twisted desires.

Lucifer could feel Michael's calm, unwavering presence in his mind. Something he had not felt since before his fall.  

He jerked his head to face his twin with the realisation that their once severed bond had returned.

"You're not to blame for this," Michael's voice echoed in his mind. "The blame lies solely with Miss Price. We'll find her, Lucifer. And when we do, she will pay for her crimes."

Lucifer's heart ached at the thought of the receptionist, her life had been cut short. He felt a pang of guilt, a sense that he had somehow played a role in Miss Price's actions.

Chloe’s phone buzzed with an incoming text.  

“A squad car has already picked her up and is almost here.”

All heads turned at the sound of a commotion outside and saw two officers bringing Sukie Price into the interrogation room for questioning. 

Ella, her voice laced with fiery determination, stepped forward. 

"I'm going to kick Sukie Price's ass."

Ella was a tiny fireball of rage. Her eyes blazed with fury as she looked at Sukie Price, her voice trembled with barely controlled rage.

"You killed her!" 

Ella shouted, her voice echoing through the room.

"You murdered that innocent woman, then planned to kill my friend!"

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned to look at Ella. Her anger was palpable, her fury radiated from her like a wave of heat. 

Sukie glared and gritted her teeth.

“So, there's two of them!”

Michael moved to stand in front of his twin and Chloe stood next to Lucifer, her hand on her gun. 

Ella stood her ground and glared.

Michael stood silently watching, his eyes fixed on Sukie Price, the woman who had caused so much pain and chaos. He was tense, ready to spring into action if necessary.

Suddenly, Sukie swung at the officer who had been holding her, knocking him to the ground. In a flash, she grabbed his gun and twisted around. In a split second, she chose which devil to kill, and pointed the gun at Michael.

Ella, who had been watching Sukie closely, saw the danger immediately. Without hesitation, she lunged at Sukie, knocking her to the ground. Sukie struggled, but Ella was strong.

In a matter of minutes, Ella and the officers had subdued Sukie Price, and had rendered her unconscious. Ella stood over her, her chest heaved, her body trembled with exertion.

Ella turned to the others, her eyes shining with pride. 

“Those tai chi classes I took last year finally came in handy….Is everyone ok?" 

Michael watched as Ella stood over Sukie Price, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen anyone so fierce, so determined. He felt a surge of admiration for her, a feeling he had never experienced before. 

As the officers dragged Sukie Price down to the cells, they knew it was finally over. 

"That was amazing, Ella" 

Deep inside he knew he was falling for her.

Chloe held onto Lucifer as he pulled her close against his chest and then placed a kiss on her forehead. He was picking up his twin's emotions through their bond. Using their now-restored link he spoke. 

“Ask her out brother, she likes you. This is the life you wanted, go grab it with both hands.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lucifer had promised Michael that he would help organise a special date for them both, one that Ella wouldn't forget. He had pulled out all the stops and got them both VIP tickets. If only Michael had known what he was getting himself into.  

Ella’s face lit up the moment he stepped out onto the bustling Comic Con floor. Clad in his replica Han Solo jacket and vest, complete with a blaster and holster, he wasn't sure who felt more ridiculous—him or the guy dressed as a purple Bantha.

Ella, in her Leia white gown and braided buns, let out a squeal. 

"You look amazing, Mike! You even got the scruffiness right!" 

Michael chuckled and rolled his eyes.  

Michael had no idea what a comic convention was till Ella had whipped out the costume in their hotel room. Michael had grumbled good-naturedly but had agreed to wear it.

Ella wrapped her arms around his waist and adjusted the holster that kept threatening to slide down his hip. 

Ella patted his chest, her eyes sparkling.

"Just wait until we hit the prop and merch tables. I have a lightsaber with your name on it." 

Together they marvelled at custom Darth Vader helmets, oohed over exquisitely crafted lightsabers, and belted out the Cantina Band song alongside a group of Wookiees (or at least, their best Wookiee impressions).

Michael loosened up with each step. He hammed it up for photos and posed heroically with his blaster, which earned him a high-five from a passing Boba Fett. 

He watched Ella, her passion for the franchise was infectious, drawing smiles and laughter wherever they went. 

"So, did I make a geek out of you yet?"

Michael chuckled, pulling her close. The excitement of the day's events, from dodging Stormtroopers to deciphering Sith riddles, still hummed through him. 

But the real magic had been in those stolen moments – Ella's infectious laughter, her eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm that mirrored his own, the way her hand always seemed to find his in the chaotic crowds. 

As he held her close, a warmth spread through him, deeper than any blaster heat or lightsaber glow. He might have entered the day as Han Solo, but he was leaving as Michael, falling for the real Princess Leia of his heart.

……………………….

Before they knew it a month had passed since the Comic Con and one date had led to another, and they had become an item.  

Michael moved out from the Penthouse and Lucifer helped set him up in an apartment in Brentwood, known for its charming streets and leafy avenues.  

After his twin sorted Michael’s paperwork, he was finally a legal citizen. A few favours from his twin, and Michael had a fulfilling job as a forensic investigator, working right alongside Ella.

Arriving at their latest crime scene, Michael was shocked to see none other than Butterball trotting towards him with an air of unwavering confidence. 

The cat weaved through the crime scene tape, seemingly oblivious to the morbid scene around it, and made a beeline for Lucifer.

Before Michael could react, Butterball began rubbing himself against Lucifer's leg, its coarse fur leaving a trail of orange hairs on Lucifer's pristine suit. Lucifer's eyes widened in horror, his usual composed demeanour crumbling under the onslaught of feline affection.

Michael watched the scene unfold, his laughter bubbling up from his chest. Lucifer, the Lord of Hell, the Prince of Darkness, the man who could command armies, reduced to a helpless victim of a stray cat's affection.

Lucifer tried to brush the cat off, but it clung tenaciously, purring in contentment.

 "Get this mangy beast off me!" Lucifer hissed, his voice laced with annoyance.

Despite his protests, Lucifer couldn't help but smile..

Michael watched as the cat finally detached itself from Lucifer, leaving behind a trail of orange hairs that Lucifer tried to brush off. The cat sauntered off, its tail held high, leaving behind a trail of laughter in its wake.

Michael turned to Lucifer, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 

"Well, I never expected to see him again!" 

Lucifer glared at him, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

"You're going to pay for this, no one laughs at the devil."

Michael had never laughed so much. 

Butterball looked a bit worse for wear; thin and a bit bedraggled, covered in dirt and grime. The poor thing must have been living on the street since the fire.

Michael's heart went out to the little cat, He scooped Butterball up into his arms and scratched behind his ear.

Butterball seemed to recognize Michael as he purred contentedly and nuzzled against his chest. 

Once they got home, he bathed Butterball, then purred contentedly as Michael dried him off. It was like he had finally come home. 

………………………

Six months passed and eventually, Ella was moving in. 

Michael couldn't help but smile as he watched her gracefully carrying boxes into their new home together, her laughter echoed through the air. His heart swelled with a mix of love, gratitude, and a sense of fulfilment he had never experienced before.

Michael couldn't believe how his life had changed since he had first come to LA. 

Ella's presence had transformed his world, bringing a warmth, vibrancy, and laughter that he had never known before. She was his confidante, his partner in crime, and the love of his life. Her unwavering support and unwavering belief in him had given him the strength to overcome his past demons and embrace the future with open arms.

As they settled into their new home together, Michael couldn't help but marvel at his newfound happiness. He had his twin brother back in his life and their relationship was stronger than ever. 

And then there was Butterball, the chubby ginger tom who had somehow found his way back into his life and quickly become an integral part of their family. Butterball's playful antics and affectionate purrs brought endless joy to their home, filling their days with warmth and laughter.

Michael and Ella snuggled together on the couch; ready to embark on their Star Wars marathon, when there was a loud knock at the door.

Pecking Ella on the cheek Michael passed her the popcorn and pulled himself up.  

"Not disturbing you both, am I?" 

Lucifer, his voice laced with a familiar teasing lilt and his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. He pushed past Michael and stepped into the lounge, his eyes scanned the room and finally landed on Ella, who patted the seat next to her. 

"We're just about to start the movie, hope you like Star Wars dude!" 

Michael rolled his eyes and handed his brother a glass of scotch. 

Butterball eyed Lucifer with a glint in his eye.

Lucifer had finally admitted that there was something undeniably endearing about the furball. The mangy moggie had become Michael's constant companion. At first, Lucifer hadn't appreciated the stray hairs that would inevitably find their way onto his immaculate suits, but he couldn't deny that Butterball brought a spark of joy to Michael's life.

He watched as Michael gently stroked the cat's soft fur. Michael had a tenderness that had rarely been seen previously on his brother's face. 

Butterball purred contentedly, a deep rumble that echoed through the room, and Lucifer couldn't help but smile.

Lucifer had seen the change in his brother, the softening of his features, the warmth in his eyes, the genuine smile that seemed to light up his face.

He sat down on the couch, and Butterball, sensing his newfound acceptance, sauntered over and curled up on his lap. Lucifer couldn't help but smile as the cat's soft fur tickled his skin and the rhythmic vibrations of his purrs lulled him into a state of tranquillity.

Lucifer looked up at Michael, who was watching him with a knowing smile.

“I see you’ve made your peace with ‘The Sheddinator’.”

Lucifer had refused to use the name Butterball, Insisting that the cat was a machine-like powerhouse of shedding who left a trail of orange fur wherever it went. The cat seemed especially keen on his suits.

But he was happy for Michael, genuinely happy. He had found his soul mate, just like Lucifer had found Chloe. 

“The beast tolerates my presence, and I now tolerate his shedding." 

He threw a mock glare at Butterball, who responded with an unfazed purr and a nonchalant swipe of his tail.

Michael chuckled.

"Simple enough, right? Just wear a hazmat suit next time you visit, and we're good to go." 

Lucifer looked at Michael in disgust. 

"A hazmat suit? Now that's just insulting, brother. I have standards." 

Ella chimed in, her voice laced with a teasing lilt.

"Just admit you've fallen for Butterball's charms. That purring is practically hypnotic, he loves you."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, a sly smile dancing on his lips. 

"The cat and I have  reached an understanding. He provides entertainment, I provide chin scratches. A mutually beneficial arrangement, wouldn't you say?"

Michael and Ella burst into laughter, the sound filled the room with warmth and joy. 

As the laughter subsided, a comfortable silence settled over them, broken only by the crackling fire in the hearth and the rhythmic purr of Butterball. Michael leaned over and squeezed his brother's shoulder, a wordless gesture of affection.

"I'm glad I have you in my life, brother."

Lucifer met his gaze, a hint of softness in his eyes. 

"I wouldn't have it any other way,"