InsaneJournal

WHO: Charlie Hanson and Lucifer
WHAT: Lucifer decides to up the ante.
WHEN: Night; around 10PM.
WHERE: Charlie's apartment
RATING: PG-13 (language and character death)
STATUS: Complete; log

Charlie hadn't felt right all day. She'd woken up with a sense of foreboding that she couldn't quite shake but had done her best to ignore. The feeling had stayed with her, though, throughout the entire morning and afternoon, only fading a bit as she worked her shift at the diner, then returning full force as she made her way home that night. She tried telling herself that it was just the situation starting to get under her skin. There was a type of heaviness that seemed to permeate the air now that Lucifer was in town and, although she wanted to think that she wasn't even on the fallen angel's radar, she also knew that it didn't really matter if she was or wasn't. The fact of the matter was, he was here and things were only going to get worse until Michael and the other angels finally dealt with him.

Why they were waiting was beyond her. She had briefly entertained the thought that they might have some orders from God that they were following, waiting for something that would indicate the time was right to strike. But Charlie also knew that Michael - at least, her Michael - didn't always follow orders. If he did, she wouldn't be here and neither would Bobby.

Bobby. The thought of her son, whom she'd never spent more than a shift at work away from since he'd been born, made her heart ache a bit. She had placed him somewhere safe the instant she had learned what was going on, and she knew she'd made the right decision. That didn't make her not miss him, though. In fact, the knowledge that he was right there in the city yet she still couldn't see him was almost enough to make her want to cry. She shoved the feeling aside, however, and instead focused on the moment. Namely somehow managing to juggle both a bag full of groceries as well as the key to her apartment.

"Oh come on, you son of a bitch," she muttered, finally twisting enough to bang the door with her hip. It opened and she half-stumbled inside, her grip on the bag of food tightening. Blindly she reached for the light switch and, as the darkness was chased away, she made her way into the kitchen to put away the food. She was halfway there when she realized that something just plain wasn't right. It started as a feeling that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Then the light overhead popped and she was immediately surrounded by darkness. And then the front door made a soft clicking sound as it swung shut.

Immediately still and extremely tensed, Charlie stayed put for a heartbeat or two. The streetlight outside managed to provide just enough light as it shone through her window that she could still see immediately in front of her but it wasn't nearly enough to make out anything other than blurred shapes in the distance. She tilted her head a bit, listening for any sign that might give away whoever, or whatever, was in her apartment with her. Because although she had yet to hear so much as a footstep, she knew that she wasn't alone. She knew it as certainly as she knew her own name. With a soft sigh she placed the bag of groceries on the counter and raised one, slightly trembling, hand toward her face. Brushing a few loose strands of her hair away from her forehead, she exhaled slowly then finally spoke. Her voice was both tired and quiet yet served to cut through the unnatural silence that had descended over the apartment.

"Well, are you gonna show yourself or are we just gonna stand here in the dark all night?"

The room got cold. That was the first change. The temperature dropped sharply and the edges of the window became clouded with frost. The devil didn't burn hot. No, Dante had been right on that score. The deepest parts of Hell were cold, frozen wastelands, and Lucifer was no different. He strolled across the room, all careless ease in his movements, and leaned against the window. "Hello, Charlie," he said casually. "It's nice to see you. You're doing well, I hope? I'm sorry for stopping by without calling first, but I just really wanted to meet you."

She was afraid. She might not show it, no she was too stubborn and contrary for that (a perfect charge for his older brother), but he was an angel. Yes, he was fallen and twisted by countless years spent in Hell, but he was still an angel. He could see deeper than human perception allowed, could practically feel the tension she tried so desperately to suppress. Yes, she was afraid. She wanted to be brave, tell him to fuck off...and what was it about his brothers that led them to such crass, disrespectful charges...but fear was such a central emotion to her sort. Failing, faltering apes who didn't deserve the esteem of his father and brothers.

There was no reason to talk civilly to her, it was about as useful as talking to a dung beetle, but she was Michael's charge and he would respect that. Besides, he was curious to see what it was about this wholly unremarkable little woman that had led his brother to disobedience. Jealousy was a part of it, he was unashamed to admit that to himself. Michael had turned his back on him at God's command, but this human waitress with all her faults had earned his loyalty? He couldn't fathom it. Yes, she was important, if only in that she'd spread her legs at a convenient time for his Father's purpose, but that shouldn't have been enough. What was it about her?

Her child fascinated him. He, among all humans, was something to take notice of. He was helpless, but at the same time he was a truly wondrous, powerful, important creature. He was also a threat. But that wasn't why he was here. No, Michael had become complacent. As much as he didn't want to fight his brother, he didn't particularly want to be ignored either. Why should he merit less attention than these disgusting worms? No, he would force his brother to take notice. And this was the best way to do that.

"Sorry about the lightbulb," he said. "You wouldn't believe how many bulbs I go through. It's a pain. I'd fix it, but there's no real point, is there? Will I be any less than what I am in the light? Will illuminating the situation really make you any safer? No. It won't. You know, I feel terrible about this. A child should never have to grow up without its mother. But my brother is just being so stubborn about this. Really...two thousand years and he doesn't change one bit. So I have to send him a message. You understand, don't you?"

"But we'll get to that later," he continued. "Have a seat." He gestured and the chair slid out from the table. Another movement of his hand and she was pushed so that she was sitting down. "Isn't it nice that we can talk like adults about this? Now, I have to say...you were smarter than I gave you credit for. Dumber too, but also smarter. You got rid of that baby of yours quick. And you didn't tell anyone where he was. Bravo. I am impressed. So...tell me about yourself. How'd you get to know my brother? I mean...I know the details, but I want to hear it from you." He paused and looked at her for a moment. "It's really weird how much you look like little Sammy's poor dead girlfriend. I wonder if its a thing...that face for little human girls who get in over their heads and end up tragically dead. But I'm not giving you a chance to answer my question. Go on then."

Charlie had spent most of her time since learning of Lucifer's impending arrival in Colligo purposefully not thinking about him. However there were times when she couldn't help it and had wondered, in that sort of macabre way that people sometimes do, just what he was like. Whatever she had imagined - and she certainly had quite the imagination after the circumstances surrounding Bobby's birth - this had most definitely not been it. To be honest, he seemed a lot more personable than any other angel she'd ever met. Including Michael. He also seemed so very... relaxed, she supposed was the word. Essentially he came across as the complete opposite of everything she had ever been taught about him while growing up.

Finding herself with no choice but to sit down, she placed her palms on either side of the chair and gripped the edges of the seat tightly. It helped center her, helped give her some fleeting feeling of control no matter how small. She kept her gaze on him as he spoke, her expression a wary one with just a touch of surprise tossed in. The entire situation was just too surreal for her to really wrap her brain around. When he finally stopped talking long enough for her to answer, it took her a second to remember what it was he'd even asked. Absently, she licked her lips before finally replying.

"I don't know what there is to say. God ordered him to kill me, he refused, God sent other angels instead, Michael showed up and saved my life." There was more to it than that, far more really, but Charlie wasn't quite sure how to put it into words. Her brow furrowed slightly in thought. "Well, he saved my son's life. I just happened to be carrying him at the time. If Bobby'd already been born I'm sure it would've turned out a lot different than it did." She shrugged slightly. She had no misconceptions about where Michael's true loyalty fell when it came to her or her son. Bobby was the important one. And yes, he had saved Jeep and the others at her insistence, but that had only happened after she'd threatened to do it herself and risk both herself and her unborn child in the process.

Not that any of it mattered, now. She was going to die. Of that she was absolutely sure. Any ideas she'd had about Michael showing up to save the day had evaporated about the time that Lucifer had revealed himself. He wasn't going to take on his brother just to save her, not so long as Bobby was somewhere else. It sucked, but it's the way it was and as afraid as Charlie was at the moment, she couldn't say she blamed him. With a slight shake of her head, she re-focused on the fallen angel in front of her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked curiously. If she was going to die anyway, she didn't see any point in not at least asking a few questions of her own. "Not... this, but, I mean, everything here. Trying to rile up Michael and force some sort of fight. This place ain't even Earth which means it can't be Armageddon. So why try to take it over?"

"Michael refused an order." Lucifer laughed, a mix of humor and bitterness beyond the scope of what humans felt. And underneath all of it was genuine pain. "You have to understand," he said, "if this had happened in my reality, you would be dead. Michael doesn't question. He doesn't argue. He's a good son." It was clear that was in no way a compliment. In fact, it sounded like the worst insult a person could use. "Make no mistake," he continued. "I love my brother. I love him more than anything. I idolized Michael, and there were no two angels closer in all of heaven than we were. And then I chose to think for myself, and he abandoned me. Everything we had been through was nothing to him. Can you imagine how that felt?" He sighed. "And then I was cast out, abandoned to Hell and trapped in a cage for two thousand years, and for what? For thinking for myself. For exercising the same free will humans take for granted. For daring to disagree. I didn't even hate humans. I just didn't believe that I should have to love them above my Father. I wished them no harm. Tell me, where is the sin in that? How does that make me evil?"

"I don't expect you to understand," Lucifer said, and the words could have been patronizing but somehow they weren't. "Well...not just you. Any human would have difficulty comprehending the enormity of this. I could care less about Armageddon and that cage match Dad wants. This isn't about that at all. I love my father, but he's a manipulative bastard. See...God makes everything, and he made me the way I am. He allowed me to question, so that he could strike me down for it. He needed a villain, and he sacrificed me for the sake of pitting my brother against me, for his own amusement." He looked genuinely regretful in that instance. "I never wanted this, Charlie, but I will do with it what I will. I won't play into my Father's games. I decided that long ago...and I've changed the rules. This has been building for millennia. Dean and Sam...they are perfect in all their flaws. They love one another to a dangerous degree and they would do anything for each other. They would and have died for each other. If they say yes, it will never come to any fight. Michael will see the error of his ways, because Dean will never hurt Sam, any more than Sam would hurt Dean or I would hurt Michael. And that will make all the difference. In Dean. Michael will remember our brotherly bond, and I will have my brother back. And our Father will have to acknowledge that He was wrong. And everything will be as it ought to have been. I miss my family, Charlie. You can't even fathom how much." He looked down. "But Michael is stubborn and, worse than that, he has apparently chosen to take no action. To ignore my very presence. He will not take his vessel, he will not play the role he is meant to, unless I give him that push." He smiled, almost sympathetic. "And that's why you have to die. To remind Michael of what he is meant to do."

He tapped his fingers idly against the table. "You understand, don't you?" he asked. "If there was any other way, I would take it, but it's you or your son, and it just seems wrong to go killing an innocent baby. You're a mother, and even though you never wanted that bouncing bundle of joy, you would happily die to keep him safe." He smiled. "See, Charlie, this was never about you, or your son. What good would killing him here do? Nothing. This is about my brother. Simple as that." He looked at her, and his smile was tinged with a deep and very real sadness. "I truly am sorry."

"You leave Bobby out of this." Charlie's tone was a hard one, the fear completely devoid from her voice. She still felt it, of course. She'd be an idiot if she wasn't scared and she was far from an idiot. However he was right. She would die for her son. She'd kill for her son. She'd do anything for him including ignoring her own fear and facing off with Lucifer himself.

The really frightening part was, though, that out of everything he'd said that was the only thing she could find to argue about. The rest of it made sense. Granted she knew that her own anger at God was clouding her judgment. She also knew that he was right - there was no way she could truly grasp the situation in any significant sort of way. However, she knew from firsthand experience just how terrible God could be. God had sent Gabriel to kill Michael when he'd rebelled, after all, only to change His mind afterward and decide that maybe He didn't want to end the world after all. Thousands of lives lost and why? Because God was having a bad day? And where was God now? Why wasn't He here, dealing with this personally?

Drawing in a breath, she exhaled slowly and tried to calm her once again rattled nerves. Getting angry at God all over again wasn't going to fix anything. Neither was trying to reason with Lucifer. "You won't win, you know," she finally spoke again. Her tone was soft but lacking any pleading. It wouldn't work so why bother. She got that now. Instead she just raised her chin a notch and gave him a hard look. "Even if Michael does want to face you after this, the others won't let him. And even if they do, he doesn't need anybody to agree to anything to take you down." Another breath and she swallowed. Hard. "So go ahead and get it over with and you'll see that I'm right. You can change the rules all you want but it really ain't gonna matter if nobody else plays along. And Michael won't. Maybe the one from your reality would've but this one won't. He'll come for you and he'll stop you. He'll regret it, but he'll do it anyway. Mark my words."

"That was my intention," Lucifer said easily. Bobby was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. "You know...God told Michael to put Bobby before you. And that's fine, because it's what you want. But it just seems like such a shame, how little you mean to my Father now that you've served your purpose. That's how He is. He doesn't care about anyone, beyond their use to Him. Answer one thing for me, Charlie. If God cares so much, why isn't He here? He knew I was coming and He left you all to your fates. He purposefully abandoned you. Why fight for such a cruel and uncaring being who plays with your lives like it's a game?" He looked down at his hands. "Aziraphale had faith, more than most would ever imagine. He truly believed that God would make things right. And look what it got him. Dead. And it grieved me to do it, but he was never meant to be a part of this. Sadly, neither are you."

He smiled and shook his head, as if anticipating what she might say. "I know," he said. "I know. You...oh, how would you humans put it...you don't give a rat's ass about God. Your loyalty is to my brother. Smart. Michael is a good and noble being. But you have to remember that you and your son were an aberration. He is loyal to our Father, and stupidly so. It's a shame that God abuses that loyalty, the way he does. God was the one who wanted him to kill your son. To kill you. And that wasn't the first distasteful task He gave Michael. Do you think Michael wanted to be pitted against me? No. But he is a good son, as I said. And however it pains him, he will do what our Father commands." He closed his eyes. "What kind of God...no, what kind of Father pits his children against each other? Michael deserves better. Humanity deserves better."

He smiled at her. "I like you," he said. "You've got a lot of spirit. I wish it hadn't come to this. But I will win." With a twist of his wrist, her neck snapped. There were other ways, but that was the quickest and the least painful. He didn't want to hurt her, and he certainly didn't want to cause his brother more pain than necessary. She looked almost peaceful like this. Getting to his feet, he stepped over to her and closed her eyes, brushing her hair out of her face, where she was slumped in the chair. Such a waste. But maybe now his brother would pay attention to him. With one last glance at the dead woman, he disappeared from the apartment.