[ Hope is a funny thing. Lucifer thought maybe reason could be found. Some sort of middle ground. But Uriel had that blade. The one that belonged to their sibling the Angel of Death. It wouldn't just kill their mum. It would wipe her out of existence.
He thought, once, that something like this might cause a buzzing in the mind. That it would be this obnoxiously loud thing. Like an old radio with nothing but static. The reality is worse. A quiet cavern in his own skull and nothing to fill it up. Just the knowledge of what he's done. What he can't take back.
Were Lucifer more aware in the moment he might realize what this is. This bit of role reversal. When he was there for John after an awful case. He can't think like that. The connections don't come. John says the nickname he uses for him and his mouth turns down in a frown, chin quivering. He doesn't realize that Maze has made her way back to clean up and nurse her own wounds from their fight until his mum tries to take another step toward her son and the demon's voice cuts through the air sharply. ] He doesn't need you. Constantine will look after him.
[ Threats, not that they are needed, are implied. She's seen the two of them together enough to know that John wouldn't use these moments of vulnerability against Lucifer. If he was that stupid he wouldn't be around to gloat about it for long. But she knows she's ill-equipped to help the Lord of Hell in this moment.
Bent over a little at the arm that finds its way around him, a shaking hand reaches for purchase on the exorcist. Anything to ground him. But he looks down at his bloody hand and thinks better of it, drawing back as if burned. A shuddering breath escapes but all he can manage is a nod.
Maze and his mum leave at some point and Lucifer isn't quite certain when they make it into the bathroom. ]
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He thought, once, that something like this might cause a buzzing in the mind. That it would be this obnoxiously loud thing. Like an old radio with nothing but static. The reality is worse. A quiet cavern in his own skull and nothing to fill it up. Just the knowledge of what he's done. What he can't take back.
Were Lucifer more aware in the moment he might realize what this is. This bit of role reversal. When he was there for John after an awful case. He can't think like that. The connections don't come. John says the nickname he uses for him and his mouth turns down in a frown, chin quivering. He doesn't realize that Maze has made her way back to clean up and nurse her own wounds from their fight until his mum tries to take another step toward her son and the demon's voice cuts through the air sharply. ] He doesn't need you. Constantine will look after him.
[ Threats, not that they are needed, are implied. She's seen the two of them together enough to know that John wouldn't use these moments of vulnerability against Lucifer. If he was that stupid he wouldn't be around to gloat about it for long. But she knows she's ill-equipped to help the Lord of Hell in this moment.
Bent over a little at the arm that finds its way around him, a shaking hand reaches for purchase on the exorcist. Anything to ground him. But he looks down at his bloody hand and thinks better of it, drawing back as if burned. A shuddering breath escapes but all he can manage is a nod.
Maze and his mum leave at some point and Lucifer isn't quite certain when they make it into the bathroom. ]