“It was a mistake,” he said quietly. “You went somewhere you shouldn’t have gone, got caught up in someone else's fight, and you ended up hurt because of it.”
“How?” she asked. “How did I get hurt?”
Luce was quiet for a moment, staring at her, as he finally pulled his hands away, his fingertips leaving her skin. “You trusted someone you shouldn’t have ever trusted.”
“Who?”
“Someone who nearly destroyed you.”
She shook her head. “Do you always speak so cryptically?”
He shrugged a shoulder. He was trying to convince her she wasn't crazy. Any more details than that and she was liable to check herself into a mental institution.
The devil tricked you to trigger the apocalypse, and then he stuck a knife through your chest, but I swear it was out of love.
"Have you considered maybe you're better off not knowing?" he asked. "That maybe there's a reason you don't remember any of it?"
"What if it was you?" she asked. "How would you feel?"
He laughed dryly. "I'd give just about anything to have a clean slate."
"But I just... I want to know who I am. I want to know where I came from. Do I have a family? Friends? Does anybody care? Does anyone miss me, or remember me, or even think about me?"
"I do," he said quietly.
"And who are you?" she asked, cutting him off when he tried to respond right away. "I know you said it's a long story, but can I get the short version? At least a name? Something?"
He considered it for a moment. "Luce."
"Luce," she repeated, brow furrowing. "Is that short for something?"
"Yes."
He didn't elaborate. She didn't press the matter. Her eyes bore into his as her mouth again moved, sounding out his name this time, a small smile playing on her lips. Fuck, he really wanted to kiss her...
Her eyes eventually left his, drifting along him, scanning his face and his bare chest before meeting his gaze again. She quirked an eyebrow, holding her hand out. "Well, Luce, apparently I'm Serah."
Lucifer reached out and took her hand, holding it in his. "I know."
"Lucky for you, my memory is shot, which means you're a clean slate to me. I'm learning from scratch here, trying to make sense of the world again, but I have a question that I think might clear some things up."
He hesitated. "I'm listening."
"How in the world did you heal so quickly?"
He immediately looked down, realizing the wound on his chest was now gone. All that was left was the faint circular scar from the burn of a Heavenly blade. "The wound was superficial."
"And the round scar?" she asked. "Where did that come from?"
"Can't really say."
"Pity," she said, tugging on the neck of her shirt and pulling it down to expose a patch of skin. "Because I have one of those marks, too."
Lucifer stared at the scar on her chest. His would fade by tomorrow as he fully regenerated, but she was human now. Marks on humans remained. Hers became permanent the moment he took her wings.
He wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing, pulling away from her entirely to stand up. "I really shouldn't be here, Serah."
He turned to leave, ignoring her feeble protest asking him to stay. He shouldn't be there; he shouldn't be talking to her, or touching her. The truth would only hurt her in the end.
As soon as he stepped outside, away from her eyes, he zapped away and landed on the street outside of the old bar he'd tracked Abaddon to before. He tried to sense his old friend, not done with their conversation, but Abaddon's essence faded as soon as he appeared.
He knew that game.
The angel was evading him.
Luce.
The name was peculiar, yet somehow familiar; like it was a name Serah knew intimately, one she had spoken many times before. Luce.
It repeatedly rolled through her thoughts, springing off the tip of her tongue after having lingered there for months. It made sense, relatively speaking, considering nothing about the entire situation was truly understandable.
She wondered if she was dreaming again.
In the blink of an eye, her visitor was up out of the chair, his words not registering with her until he was almost to the door. I shouldn't be here. "Hang on," she called out. "Stay, please!"
She jumped up, running to the door when he headed outside, stepping out not ten seconds after him to find the dark parking lot completely empty.
Gone.
"Wait!" she yelled, looking around. He couldn't have gotten far. "Come back!"
"Looking for someone?"
She jumped at the unexpected voice, startlingly close. A man stood on the corner a mere few feet away. How hadn't she seen him until now? It wasn't Luce, but when he took a step closer, recognition dawned. She'd met him before, once, not long ago: the guy who had carried her groceries for her.
Don.
"Uh, yeah," she said quickly. "Did you see someone come by here?"
"No," he said. "Should I have?"
"I, uh… I don't know." Shaking her head, she scanned the parking lot once more, seeing no sign of him anywhere. It was like he'd vanished into thin air again. Typical. "I guess not."
Sighing, she turned around and stepped back inside the lobby of the motel, trying to shake off the peculiar feeling crawling across her skin, the tingling along her spine. She could sense the man as he stepped in behind her.
“How?” she asked. “How did I get hurt?”
Luce was quiet for a moment, staring at her, as he finally pulled his hands away, his fingertips leaving her skin. “You trusted someone you shouldn’t have ever trusted.”
“Who?”
“Someone who nearly destroyed you.”
She shook her head. “Do you always speak so cryptically?”
He shrugged a shoulder. He was trying to convince her she wasn't crazy. Any more details than that and she was liable to check herself into a mental institution.
The devil tricked you to trigger the apocalypse, and then he stuck a knife through your chest, but I swear it was out of love.
"Have you considered maybe you're better off not knowing?" he asked. "That maybe there's a reason you don't remember any of it?"
"What if it was you?" she asked. "How would you feel?"
He laughed dryly. "I'd give just about anything to have a clean slate."
"But I just... I want to know who I am. I want to know where I came from. Do I have a family? Friends? Does anybody care? Does anyone miss me, or remember me, or even think about me?"
"I do," he said quietly.
"And who are you?" she asked, cutting him off when he tried to respond right away. "I know you said it's a long story, but can I get the short version? At least a name? Something?"
He considered it for a moment. "Luce."
"Luce," she repeated, brow furrowing. "Is that short for something?"
"Yes."
He didn't elaborate. She didn't press the matter. Her eyes bore into his as her mouth again moved, sounding out his name this time, a small smile playing on her lips. Fuck, he really wanted to kiss her...
Her eyes eventually left his, drifting along him, scanning his face and his bare chest before meeting his gaze again. She quirked an eyebrow, holding her hand out. "Well, Luce, apparently I'm Serah."
Lucifer reached out and took her hand, holding it in his. "I know."
"Lucky for you, my memory is shot, which means you're a clean slate to me. I'm learning from scratch here, trying to make sense of the world again, but I have a question that I think might clear some things up."
He hesitated. "I'm listening."
"How in the world did you heal so quickly?"
He immediately looked down, realizing the wound on his chest was now gone. All that was left was the faint circular scar from the burn of a Heavenly blade. "The wound was superficial."
"And the round scar?" she asked. "Where did that come from?"
"Can't really say."
"Pity," she said, tugging on the neck of her shirt and pulling it down to expose a patch of skin. "Because I have one of those marks, too."
Lucifer stared at the scar on her chest. His would fade by tomorrow as he fully regenerated, but she was human now. Marks on humans remained. Hers became permanent the moment he took her wings.
He wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing, pulling away from her entirely to stand up. "I really shouldn't be here, Serah."
He turned to leave, ignoring her feeble protest asking him to stay. He shouldn't be there; he shouldn't be talking to her, or touching her. The truth would only hurt her in the end.
As soon as he stepped outside, away from her eyes, he zapped away and landed on the street outside of the old bar he'd tracked Abaddon to before. He tried to sense his old friend, not done with their conversation, but Abaddon's essence faded as soon as he appeared.
He knew that game.
The angel was evading him.
Luce.
The name was peculiar, yet somehow familiar; like it was a name Serah knew intimately, one she had spoken many times before. Luce.
It repeatedly rolled through her thoughts, springing off the tip of her tongue after having lingered there for months. It made sense, relatively speaking, considering nothing about the entire situation was truly understandable.
She wondered if she was dreaming again.
In the blink of an eye, her visitor was up out of the chair, his words not registering with her until he was almost to the door. I shouldn't be here. "Hang on," she called out. "Stay, please!"
She jumped up, running to the door when he headed outside, stepping out not ten seconds after him to find the dark parking lot completely empty.
Gone.
"Wait!" she yelled, looking around. He couldn't have gotten far. "Come back!"
"Looking for someone?"
She jumped at the unexpected voice, startlingly close. A man stood on the corner a mere few feet away. How hadn't she seen him until now? It wasn't Luce, but when he took a step closer, recognition dawned. She'd met him before, once, not long ago: the guy who had carried her groceries for her.
Don.
"Uh, yeah," she said quickly. "Did you see someone come by here?"
"No," he said. "Should I have?"
"I, uh… I don't know." Shaking her head, she scanned the parking lot once more, seeing no sign of him anywhere. It was like he'd vanished into thin air again. Typical. "I guess not."
Sighing, she turned around and stepped back inside the lobby of the motel, trying to shake off the peculiar feeling crawling across her skin, the tingling along her spine. She could sense the man as he stepped in behind her.
