[Lucifer] Ch: 54 [Beyond Metaphor] (Patreon)

AN: I might have overextended Linda's part here. But I think it was necessary. 🫡

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Linda remained motionless, staring at the enormous white wings filling the room.

Her body seemed to forget every instruction her brain had ever learned to give it. Her lungs stalled halfway through a breath, her fingers tightened against the mattress, and her eyes followed the slow movement of Lucifer’s wings. The curtains beside the balcony shifted gently from the displaced air, and something inside Linda’s understanding of reality cracked under the weight of what she was seeing.

Her mind immediately searched for an explanation because that was what it had been trained to do. Hallucination, drugs, sleep deprivation, some elaborate mechanical trick, perhaps even a neurological episode brought on by stress. Each possibility appeared and disappeared almost as quickly because the evidence refused to cooperate with any of them.

She could see individual feathers overlapping one another. She could hear the faint rustle whenever the wings moved. She could feel the change in the air against her skin.

Linda opened her mouth, but her voice refused to cooperate.

Lucifer was just standing there and watching her.

His stillness somehow made the situation more frightening because there was no performance attached to it. He wasn’t grinning or making some theatrical declaration about finally proving himself correct. He simply stood before her with an expression that looked almost cautious, waiting for Linda to understand what he’d been trying to tell her for months.

And she finally did.

Every therapy session flashed through her mind with horrifying clarity.

She had taken stories about Heaven, Hell, angels, demons, rebellion, God, and eternal punishment and translated them into concepts she understood. Family conflict, childhood trauma, abandonment, anger toward an absent father, a complicated relationship with authority. She used to think that it was all an elaborate identity built around self-hatred and rebellion.

She’d constructed an entire psychological framework around Lucifer Morningstar.

And apparently, Lucifer Morningstar had simply been telling her the truth all this time.

Her heartbeat accelerated until each pulse seemed to throb through her chest. She suddenly became painfully aware that she was sitting naked while something ancient and impossible stood only a few feet away.

Linda grabbed the sheet and pulled it tightly around herself.

The movement wasn’t really about modesty anymore. Some primitive part of her brain simply wanted a barrier between herself and the being standing in front of her, even if that barrier was nothing more than cotton.

Lucifer noticed her reaction, and one of his wings shifted instinctively.

Linda recoiled so quickly that she moved up on the bed and her back struck the headboard.

Lucifer immediately froze. “Linda, I swear I won’t hurt you.”

His voice frightened her almost as much as the wings.

It sounded completely normal.

It was the same voice she’d heard making sarcastic comments from her therapy couch. The same voice that had argued with her, flirted with her, complained about his time in hell, teased her over drinks, and whispered against her skin only hours earlier.

Except the man attached to that voice predated human civilization.

Linda felt tears gathering in her eyes before she understood where they were coming from.

“All this time... You’re actually telling the truth,” she whispered, struggling to force the words through her dry throat.

Lucifer nodded. “Yes. Every word of it.”

That answer opened a door inside Linda’s mind that she desperately wanted to close.

If Lucifer was real, everything surrounding him became possible as well.

God existed somewhere beyond the world she understood. Heaven and Hell weren’t metaphors created to make sense of mortality. Angels could walk among human beings, demons could exist outside religious texts, and Lucifer himself had spent thousands upon thousands of years experiencing things Linda had casually interpreted as psychological symbolism.

Even the concept of death had changed.

Linda pressed a trembling hand against her mouth as the realization settled over her.

Her job taught her how easily people could deceive themselves. Memory could change, perception could fail, and trauma could make someone genuinely believe they’d experienced things that never happened.

Except the curtains were still moving.

She could still feel the faint current of air his wings had created.

Outside the balcony, Los Angeles continued as though nothing significant had happened. Cars moved along the streets below. Sunlight stretched across nearby buildings. Somewhere, people were probably drinking coffee and complaining about traffic while Linda Martin sat on the Devil's bed trying to process the discovery that humanity's oldest questions suddenly had very real answers.

Her eyes returned to Lucifer.

That frightened her most.

Because she still recognized him.

She could see the familiar face beneath everything her mind was now attaching to him. She remembered his laughter, his ridiculous honesty, his arrogance, his vulnerability, and the rare moments when the walls around him had slipped enough for her to see how deeply wounded he actually was.

Linda's memories clashed with the creature standing before her, a being who was the Devil, an angel, a celestial being that had existed for a very long time, and somehow also the same man who had slept next to her.

A shudder passed through her body as she pulled her knees closer beneath the sheet. Whatever she felt for Lucifer was suddenly buried beneath something far larger than fear. Her entire understanding of existence had been ripped open, leaving her struggling to fit everything she’d known about him into a reality she’d never believed could exist.

“Please...” Linda began, but the rest refused to come.

Lucifer watched her for another second.

Something painful crossed his face when he finally understood what she needed, and Linda hated that she noticed it. She hated that part of her still wanted to comfort him even while another part was terrified by his presence.

Lucifer slowly folded his wings behind him before they disappeared completely.

Linda watched every second of it without moving.

He lowered his gaze and stepped away from the bed. “I’ll leave. I imagine you need some time to process everything.”

Linda couldn’t answer him.

She could only sit there, clutching the sheet against herself while the impossible world she’d dismissed her entire life quietly became reality around her.

...

[A Few Minutes Later...]

Lucifer sat at the bar downstairs while Maze poured whiskey into a glass and shoved it toward him.

He picked it up and swallowed the entire drink in one go.

Maze watched him for a second, then reached for the bottle again. She knew that face. Lucifer usually buried anything uncomfortable beneath sex, booze, insults, violence, or some combination of all four. Right now, he wasn't even bothering.

Considering Linda was still upstairs, Maze didn't need much help figuring out what had happened.

She poured him another drink and leaned against the bar. “So you showed her?”

Lucifer stared into the whiskey before giving a small nod. “The wings. Apparently waking up beside the literal Devil loses some of its charm once the celestial anatomy becomes visible.”

Maze snorted. “She freaked, didn't she?”

“A beautifully concise diagnosis.”

Maze shrugged. “She's human. Humans freak out when the toaster catches fire. You showed her giant angel wings after spending months telling her Hell is real. What did you expect?”

Lucifer picked up the glass but didn't drink immediately. “Perhaps slightly less recoiling in terror.”

Maze's expression shifted, just enough to show she'd heard what he wasn't saying. “Did she run screaming?”

“No.”

“Throw anything?”

“No.”

“Try stabbing you?”

Lucifer gulped down the drink. “No, Maze. There was no stabbing involved.”

“Then calm down.” She grabbed the bottle and poured more whiskey into his glass before he could complain. “She got scared. Big deal. You dropped Heaven, Hell, God, angels, demons, and the fact that she's been sleeping with the real Devil directly into her lap before breakfast. Give her five minutes.”

Lucifer gave her a dry look. “Your sensitivity continues to evolve at a truly alarming rate.”

Maze smirked. “Want sensitivity, call Linda.”

Before Lucifer could answer, the elevator doors opened behind them.

Both turned.

Linda hurried out wearing the clothes she'd arrived in the previous day, though she'd clearly dressed as quickly as possible. Her hair was messy, her bag was clutched tightly against her side, and she kept her eyes fixed on the exit.

“Linda,” Lucifer called as he stood.

She stopped for barely a second, and their eyes met for a brief moment. However, she quickly broke eye contact and continued walking. She pushed through the doors of Lux and disappeared outside without looking back.

Lucifer remained standing beside the bar, staring toward the entrance.

Maze looked after Linda, then back toward him. “Want me to drag her back?”

Lucifer slowly turned his head. “What? No.”

“Good. Because that would've made things worse.”

Lucifer sat again and reached for his drink. “Remarkable restraint from you.”

Maze rolled her eyes. “She's scared, Lucifer. Chasing her down would make you look exactly like the monster she's probably trying not to believe you are.”

That landed harder than Lucifer expected. 

Maze grabbed the bottle, poured herself a drink, and knocked it back. “She'll either come back or she won't. You can't beat this problem into behaving.”

Lucifer glanced toward her. “You sound disturbingly reasonable today.”

“Don't spread it around.”

He looked toward the doors again.

Maze bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She just found out you're actually the Devil and from what I can tell, she loves you. Those two things are probably beating the crap out of each other in her head right now.”

Lucifer finally took another drink. “That is possibly the most romantic thing you've ever said.”

Maze gave him a sharp grin. “Keep talking and I'll stab you."