Haven, Maine, Saturday Fandom time

[betterthanaplan]

Duke	Duke took a deep breath as the portal opened. There'd been a lot of discussion about how to get to Haven, even after all the discussion about whether or not to actually go. Balancing speed and reliability had been a big one. Driving up in Lucifer's convertible? They could hop back in and get out whenever they needed to -- but it was a long drive, on which too many things could go wrong. In the end, after a lot of communication with Portalocity about expected outages and the unpredictability of the multidimensional continuum -- the second part of which mostly made Duke wish he was high so he could understand it better -- they'd scheduled multiple portals, opening at regular intervals, so they would be better able to ditch out quickly if things went pear-shaped. You know. Theoretically. It was, as Duke liked to say, the very best bad idea they'd had. "Well. Here goes . . . everything."
Lucifer	"Can I just say I have a bad feeling about this?" Lucifer hadn't been confident about this decision to begin with, but as he stared at the portal, all of his doubts came rushing back in. "Perhaps we can sleep on it an extra night?" Honey.
Octavia	"It wouldn't make a difference," Octavia said. Grimly, but was anyone expecting anything else from her? She looked like she was going off to war. Jaw tight, shoulders squared.
Duke	“But we can note it for the record,” Duke said. “You can say ‘I told you so’ with impunity later.” Because, let’s be real. They all knew Haven would fuck them again. He was just counting on them somehow managing to fuck it back. “Okay. I’m doing it.” He swallowed and stepped through the portal. And felt something in the Haven air recognize something in him.
Lucifer	Lucifer sucked in the loudest possible breath. And followed right behind him.
Octavia	Octavia just... stepped forward. Braced herself, but only on the inside.
Duke	Duke . . . stood. Shoulders rounded. Head tilted forward and slightly to the side, as though he were listening to something. In fact, he was trying not to listen. To the increasing buzz in his veins, or the echo of it he could feel in the atmosphere. His fingers twitched. He couldn't move.
Lucifer	"Right," Lucifer said, shooting Duke a somewhat-frazzled look. "So where to now?"
Octavia	Octavia's gaze darted around, taking stock of everything around them. Just to make sure they hadn't walked right into an active shitshow. And then her eyes returned to Duke, and something seemed... Wrong. "Duke?"
Duke	Duke's body started to move. Not Duke. Just his body. The finger twitches turned into full arm twitches turned into full body spasms, as strange and uncontrolled as when he'd "exploded" back in Fandom, only faster now, more . . . urgent. Duke himself -- well. His thoughts had been drowned out by the buzzing aether. He was being called, and parts of him, old and new, ached to answer. . . .
Lucifer	Lucifer's eyes went wide. Without another thought, he reached, claming his hand down on Duke's arm. "Duke," he said sharply.
Octavia	"What's happening?" The words came out a bark, a demand, but there was dread all through it. (The wrong choice. Again. She knew it already, she'd chosen wrong again --)
Duke	Lucifer would have just long enough to notice that Duke was vibrating at some nigh-atomic level before — It wasn’t an explosion so much as an implosion. Where Duke had stood suddenly there was nothing but a cloud of greenish gas, dissipating quickly into the cold Haven air.
Lucifer	"Duke!" Terror shot through Lucifer first, followed by abject despair as his hand grabbed nothing but air. "Duke! What on-- who took him?" There was a hint, just a hint, of something louder and deeper than his normal voice in that sentence.
Octavia	Octavia had shoved just about every potential outward emotion way down inside her just to be able to cross the threshold into Haven. And now there was a scream stuck inside her. She didn't make a sound - but she rushed to Lucifer, from all of two steps away, as if there was anything she could do. (Wrong choice wrong choice wrong choice --)
Lucifer	And Lucifer's hand, the other one, instinctively grasped for her. "Bring him back!" he bellowed at the sky. It echoed in his ears.
Octavia	It seemed to echo in Octavia's, too. She let him grab her arm, casting a wild glance up at the sky, as if he was right, as if there was something, someone there to hear him. To obey. But yelling at the sky wasn't going to bring Duke back, was it?
Lucifer	"He's not dead," Lucifer said, finally ripping his gaze away from the sky. "He can't be dead." Something strange quaked in his chest. Like a shout, bouncing around a large and empty auditorium.
Octavia	"No," Octavia agreed, although her voice sounded awfully hollow. Low, with an odd note. "The town, it took him."
Lucifer	"Well, it had damned well better untake him," Lucifer bit back. Anger to match her hollowness.
Octavia	Octavia swallowed. She was staring into the middle distance, trying to force her own brain into something resembling action. They couldn't just stand there, every minute counted, and they needed -- "Someone has to know what's going on here right now." Her hand was already reaching where she could feel the weight of her phone in her pocket.
Lucifer	"Who?!" It was not, it had to be said, the most useful thing Lucifer could contribute. But it was the only thing he had.
Octavia	Audrey was gone, Octavia wouldn't have had Nathan's number -- But let's face it, neither of those people would have been anywhere near the top of the list, anyway. There was only one person who'd ever been synonymous with hope in Haven for Octavia. "Gloria." And she was dialing.
Gloria	Gloria picked up after the first ring. “Wildcat? Tell me you’re still safe and sound down south.”
Octavia	Octavia really hadn't been prepared to hear that nickname. Something in her cracked a little, and she had to take a sharp breath as she put the phone on speaker. "No," she said. "We just got to Haven, and Duke -- vanished." She had to force that last word out through her teeth, like her jaw didn't want to cooperate with her, to let it out.
Gloria	Gloria swore viciously. “You picked a hell of a time to come back. Audrey’s missing, and too many troubles are active to count. Disappearing could be almost anything!”
Lucifer	Lucifer crowded up on Octavia, glaring at the phone. "Well, that's bloody helpful!"
Gloria	"Is that Lucifer?" Gloria asked. "Hon, I know how helpful it isn't. But Audrey's gone and Nathan's off looking for her. And Vince and Dave have been no-contact since shortly after the lighthouse went down again. And we've got some kind of serial killer taking out the troubled without leaving a mark. Dwight and I are hanging on by our fingernails here."
Octavia	Octavia was not going to be thinking about Nathan right now, and definitely not about what she knew had happened to Audrey, or the damn Haven squirrels, but -- "A serial killer?" That, that part sent something cold right through her.
Lucifer	"Yespleaseexplain." Lucifer. Breathe.
Gloria	"Wish I could, kids," Gloria said with a sigh. "We've had five troubled people end up dead now, not a mark on them. Did the autopsies myself. Nothing outside or inside, except this weird cloudiness in their eyes. Like smoke or something. Never seen anything like it." A beat. "Well, except the Colorado Kid. But that was decades ago."
Octavia	"Gloria, isn't Haven a place where weird things keep coming back?" Octavia asked. Maybe she was grasping at straws. But straws were all they had.
Gloria	"You think it's someone's trouble?" Gloria asked. "We considered that, but the Colorado Kid was the first record we have of anything like that. And that was a one off. This keeps happening. And no one can remember seeing anything."
Lucifer	"Do you have any kind of evidence for this at all?" Lucifer said, through gritted teeth. "Some-- clue we can start with?"
Gloria	“Don’t you think I’ve been wracking my brain for one?” Gloria snapped. “I’m not new to this, you smarmy devil. Vince and Dave had all the info on the troubles, and like I said, they’re AWOL. If I knew where their vault was. . . . But I’ve never been. Only folks I know who have are all missing, too. Nathan, Audrey, Jennifer. . . .”
Octavia	"Jennifer's not missing," Octavia put in. "She came with us, last time we left."
Gloria	"Oh thank god," Gloria breathed. "I've been worried sick about that girl. Can you contact her? Find out where the vault is? She had to hide out there when William had us all running from a rougarou. . . ."
Lucifer	Lucifer's eyes lit up. Finally. Something to do. "I'll call her," he said, pulling out his phone. ... "Octavia, I need her number."
Octavia	"Hold on," Octavia muttered, poking around on her phone until she could read Jennifer's number out to him. (At least she was safely far, far away from this.)

---

Duke reformed — coalesced? precipitated — inside a dry, brittle sort of room, an old fashioned room of whitewashed walls and hardwood everything. He stood in the center, shoulders still rounded, head still bent. An alien force still buzzing behind his eyes.

“So.” A gremlin of an old man, dressed like a noir detective, stood in front of him. He had a round face that could have been jolly, if it’s expression weren’t so eerily sharp and empty. “You’re the last Crocker. I must say, I expected better.”

Duke didn’t say anything. He turned his head just enough to keep the man in his eye line a moment longer as he circled him.

“Still, I can see the potential there. Mara had her way with you, didn’t she. She’s a genius, you know, though I can’t speak for her tastes. Where is she, by the way?”

It was a direct question. Duke tilted his head. Searched his memory. Saw himself and a blonde — Mara — on the rocky shore of a lake.

“Gone,” he said. And even in one syllable, his voice came out . . . out of tune. Too high, too dry. Too casual.

The gremlin man huffed, affronted. By the answer though, not the voice. “Careless. We’ll need to fix that of course. You’ll go hunting tonight.”

“Hunting?” Duke asked. The idea changed the intensity of the buzz.

“For troubles of course. Dear boy, you’re practically empty!”

“Oh.” Duke saw himself, bent almost to a right angle, wrapped in glistening white wings while black ichor poured from his eyes.

“Is that a problem?” the gremlin man asked, voice a razor point. The buzzing responded to that, too.

“No,” he said. “I’ve done it before.”

Had he? He saw himself with a knife. Dead men on the ground. A woman running while he stalked after her.

Something moved in his chest. The buzz pitched up into a roar and drowned it out.

The gremlin man stared at him, his fingers pinched together. Duke found a smile. Thought of sharks.

“Where do I start?”

---

Hailie Colton recognized Duke. She gave him a wry smile, which didn't fade to confusion and fear until after his knife touched her throat. She didn't have time to use her phasing trouble before he sliced her open.

Duke had known her since she was a kid. He'd worked with her parents when he was practically still a kid, before her mother had gotten stuck in a bank wall and died in agony.

Some part of him recognized that at least she wasn't dying the same way. Most of him was just pleased -- elated -- to take her trouble. He brought the knife to his own hand before her blood finished pooling on the floor, slicing into his palm and letting his own blood drip and vanish against the floorboards.

Her trouble, the ability to pass through solid matter as though it weren't there, was now his. He walked out through the wall and went to go find his next victim.

He'd known Jody a lot longer than he had Hailie. Had worked with her and her husband more recently, hooking them up with his finance guy, helping them screen potential partners even after he'd manged to default into living a life that was mostly "legit".

He took her trouble -- the ability to fire intense, focused beams of electromagnetic radiation from her body -- as easily and as coldly as he had Hailie's.

Hers had been altered, he realized, flexing his cut hand and watching the blood drip. It wasn't visible light anymore. He fired one at a squirrel, cooking it from the inside out.

Microwaves. Interesting.

He felt the gremlin man smile, but didn't smile himself. Pleasure was pushed down as deep as pain, save for the pleasure of the kill. The gremlin man kept him as intensely focused as those beams.

If he got upset every time he had to murder someone he knew, after all, they'd never get anywhere.

He turned his head into the wan, gray light of the Haven winter afternoon. He didn't feel the cold either. Or the pain from his hand. He flexed his fingers idly, curiously. He hadn't taken Nathan's trouble, had he? No. That one wouldn't be much use, and the gremlin man liked to watch him squirm. Something about "defiling" the gremlin man's daughter. This was the man's doing; his physical sensations were as suppressed as his emotions were.

Time to come in, the gremlin man whispered. While I decide where to send you next.

Duke turned and headed for the farm house on the coast the gremlin man had taken as a base. They had a great deal more work to do.

---

"I need a list," the gremlin man said. "Has anyone made a list, or are you all too useless to think of that?"

Duke sat on an antique settee, listening to the buzzing in his head. (His heart. His soul. . . .) The gremlin man snapped his fingers and Duke idly looked at him.

"Hmmph." The gremlin man peered into his face. "I sank you too deep." He pinched his fingers together and the buzz receded a little. "Now. Idiot. Who has a list of all the troubles?"

"The Teagues," Duke said. Still off-key. Sparse as the branches of a tree in winter. "Vince and Dave."

"The mewling half-breed and his oaf of a 'brother'?" the gremlin man scoffed. "I should have noticed. I already dispatched of them."

Duke let himself drift into the buzz again, admiring his fingers as he set them on fire. That'd been a good trouble to pull. He hadn't known the man well, and the flames were pretty.

The gremlin man snapped his fingers again. Duke let the flames go out and looked at him.

"Focus, please," the gremlin man said. "I've given you just what you always wanted, Duke. A little gratitude wouldn't hurt you."

Duke tilted his head, curious. "What I've always wanted."

"Purpose," the gremlin man said. "Submission. The pure, perfect freedom of surrender to the Void." He pressed his fingers into the soft space under Duke's jaw, pressing his face upwards. "You belong to me, Duke Crocker. I've brought you home."

Warmth and pressure and soft words. Water and wind in dark hair. Lucifer's laugh. Octavia's tiny smiles. The smell of Thai food and ripe fruit freshly opened.

Duke twitched. The gremlin man tightened his hand. The buzz roared.

Cold. Absence. The bright zing of pain in an otherwise empty space. Hunger.

"Home," Duke said.

The gremlin man let him go with an angry huff. "Go get the list, boy. Before I have to put you down."

Duke slipped away between one blink and the next. Following his master's will.

---

Haven	While Lucifer had gotten the location of the Teagues' vault from Jennifer, Gloria had done her best to finish filling Octavia in on what had been happening in town. She covered a few of the troubles that had come and gone -- the body-swapping one got a quick mention without the fact that she had been in Dwight's body for a lot of that -- and how they were struggling to bring them under control without Audrey or Nathan and their experience with it. Then Dwight had gotten a call -- people were being killed all over town. People with known troubles. By knife, not mystery. And someone swore they'd seen Duke leaving the scene. They needed that list. To know who to protect as well as figure out who might be responsible for Duke going AWOL and possibly fully off his nut. The "vault" was actually an old fish warehouse on the industrial side of the harbor, full of enough miscellaneous 'weird' to stock a museum. Finding the list would likely be much easier said than done.
Octavia	This really was just some prime Haven bullshit, wasn't it? They'd been in town for about five seconds and already Octavia wanted to burn the whole place to the ground. Including the Teagues' vault. Especially now that they'd gotten to it. Hearing it was a warehouse had not instilled much confidence in her. And now that she was getting the first look in through the entrance? She had even less. She swore in Trig under her breath, then asked, "How do we go about this?" There was so much stuff.
Lucifer	What was she talking about? True, Lucifer had been jittery, which might not have been good for his patience, as a second later he managed to peek over her shoulder and swore an immediate, "Oh, for--" Couldn't this ever just be easy?! "Just pick a stack and start digging," he said, voice strained. "Seems like the only option."
Haven	As they looked, they’d notice the place wasn’t entirely without a filing system — though it was esoteric to say the least. The file on Audrey and her incarnations was labeled simply “The Girl”. In case they wanted to hate the Teagues even more. Information on the family lines of troubles could be found under G, for “genealogy”. It was extensive, taking up its own filing cabinet. Which was tucked in next to full sized mummy case, which had been misfiled under “Greece,” across from the display of cursed clocks, which had been filed under “Grandma’s”. There were sections that didn’t start with G, too, though . . . not as many as one might think.
Octavia	Just about as soon as they'd made it into the building, Octavia wanted to file this entire thing under F for "Frustrating". Still, she'd picked a section to look through, and was - so far - managing to fight the urge to just throw everything onto the floor, even as the place kept prompting more questions than it did answers. But her posture was getting more and more tense practically every second.
Lucifer	"Why isn't there more under D?" Lucifer asked loudly, as he flung a stack of papers carelessly over his shoulder and then slammed the cabinet shut with a loud clang. "Or C. You'd think they'd have a bloody Crocker file--" He cleared his throat, thought of something, swung around and paced across to-- "T for Troubles. Come on..."
Duke?	"How about Y?" A voice asked. Duke walked through the wall with the clocks and stopped in front of the 'Genealogy' filing cabinet. "For 'You are an idiot'." It was Duke's voice, but everything about it was wrong. The tone. The timbre. The enunciation. He sounded like an alien, someone only vaguely familiar with how human speech actually worked. His posture was wrong, too, head held too far forward, chin down, shoulders high and tense. Arms too still as he walked. Also, his eyes were solid black. So there was that.
Octavia	There was that. Octavia jumped, when he appeared, and gasped his name like there was hope in it. But then the sight, the sound of him processed, and the expression on her face closed off immediately. This wasn't Duke. It wasn't. (It couldn't be.) She'd already stepped back before she darted a very quick look towards Lucifer.
Lucifer	Even the sentence itself was wrong. Lucifer straightened up as soon as he heard that voice, turning to face-- What, exactly? He stretched his arm wordlessly to his side, as if to shepherd Octavia into his protection. "What are you?"
not!Duke	“Insulted,” Duke said in an airy sing-song. He brushed his fingers over the front of the top drawer of the filing cabinet. His mouth twisted into a close-lipped smile, though he didn’t look at them. “Don’t you recognize her snogon?” The Trig was even more uncanny valley than the English; hyper-enunciated until it was nearly meaningless.
Octavia	Octavia allowed herself to be herded, this time. She stepped back behind Lucifer's arm, without taking her eyes off of -- whoever, whatever this was, before them. Although she was finding it very hard to look at his face too closely, or for too long. "You're wearing him like a mask." Yeah, maybe that was it. "That's all."
Lucifer	"Yes, you seem to have a distinct air of bodysnatcher about you," Lucifer said. The muscles around his eyes twitched as he tried to keep his face neutral. "I would suggest you unsnatch him immediately."
not!Duke	Duke looked at him then, as he pressed his finger to the lock on the filing cabinet. (It burned out with a faint hiss and a wisp of smoke. He had so many useful troubles already!) "There is nothing to 'unsnatch'," he said. "I have merely . . . become."
Octavia	Some distant part of Octavia wanted to scream. Or maybe it was already screaming? "Then you can unbecome," she said, her voice raspy and icy. If there was any background tremor to it, maybe it was rage. (She needed it to be rage.)
Lucifer	Lucifer's eyes dipped to the lock, and then back up to... whatever that thing was's face. "Who made you, then?" he snapped. He needed to do a violence.
not!Duke	"Better question," Duke sang. He opened the drawer and began flipping through it. "My father. My mother. Your father. . . . Ooo, weather control. Maybe I'll go get that one next."
Octavia	How was Octavia's face finding ways to just keep on tightening? She looked to Lucifer again. Did he have ideas? Because she was feeling an urge for violence even she knew better than to go with.
Lucifer	Should she know better? Because a second later, a filing cabinet went flyng at Duke's head, courtesy of the very same man she'd been looking at.
not!Duke	It went right through Duke as though he weren’t there. Duke rolled his head to look sternly at Lucifer “I suppose I shouldn’t expect a ‘we know you’re in there’ speech from the two of you.” He bared his teeth. “Neither of you has ever been any good at talking with me, have you.” He turned back to the files. “Here you go, Tavi.” He held up a folder. “Cannibalism!”
Octavia	There was the start of a startled noise of protest in Octavia's throat when the cabinet went flying. It died out when she saw what it did. Or didn't do. "Go float yourself," came out sounding gravelly, taking the place of the 'don't call me that' she shoved back down. "You're not him."
Lucifer	"Someone did something to you," Lucifer said. "Or something. This bloody place." He started forward. Towards Duke.
not!Duke	"Ah, there's that celestial genius," Duke said. He tossed the file aside and smirked at Lucifer, clearly unconcerned by his approach. "Or did you pick those deductive skills up working with Chloe?" He looked past Lucifer to Octavia. "I am him. I am me. I am more me than I have been in years. I am who I have always been meant to be." Another baring of teeth, full shark-grin. "Aren't you so proud?"
Octavia	Octavia didn't know what Lucifer was planning, and it made her wary. But she was trying to harden the expression on her face even further. (Trying to block out the way what Duke -- what his mouth was saying was trying to slither into her brain.) "About your empty posturing?" she bit out. "No. Duke has always been better. He is better."
Lucifer	"You are nothing like him," Lucifer agreed. "You are only wearing his face." And he reached for Duke's arm, to grab him.
. . . not!Duke?	Duke allowed it. A flicker of . . . something . . . passed over his features at the touch. Something scared and deeply pained. Then it was gone, and he was grabbing Lucifer's neck. "Acid touch," he said, almost musingly. "Let's see if I can still hurt you."
Lucifer	Lucifer saw it. His eyes widened. And then further, a moment later, as he let out a gasp of pain and Duke's fingers left blackening marks on his throat.
Octavia	Octavia caught the flicker, too. And then the marks. "Lucifer!"
Duke	Duke's expression shifted again, tightening down. He let go of Lucifer's neck, his hand shaking. The black cleared from his eyes, and for a moment, it was Duke, their Duke, marble-pale and terrified, looking out at them. "Luce," he said, voice choked but correct. "Your neck. . . ."
Lucifer	As soon as the hand fell away, Lucifer sort of-- half-pitched forward. It took him a second, but he managed to stay on his feet. "Not the most pleasant way you've ever touched me," he panted. Wait. Duke?
Octavia	Octavia started towards them almost despite herself. All feeling, little thought beyond Duke. "How do we help?"
not!Duke	Duke heaved in a breath, mouth open in a desperate "o" as he looked from Lucifer to Octavia -- And then he grinned again. Black back in his eyes. "That's adorable," he sang. "I have work to do." He turned back to the filing cabinet.
Lucifer	"No," Lucifer said. He pushed himself up from the floor and grabbed for Duke's arm. "Duke. Come back."
Octavia	"Beja," Octavia said - breathed, really, something broken in the sound of it. Duke had... gone, again, and maybe she should've reeled herself back in, but it wasn't happening. So raw emotion it was. "Beja, snogon, beja."
not!Duke. . .	Duke’s whole face had locked down, as the buzz of aether battled with his rising consciousness and need to help his partners. To give them what they needed from him. “There it is,” he hissed, in that broken, inhuman tone. Biting off the end of each word like they were curses. “Now we get to the pleading.”
Lucifer	And so Lucifer's hand closed around his arm. "Remember why we came here, darling," he said. "We need you to be whole."
Octavia	Octavia wanted so badly to touch Duke, too, but she'd seen the acid touch in action, and forced herself to stay behind Lucifer. (It was agony.) "And we didn't come here to lose you."
not!Duke	“But you have,” Duke hissed. (He wasn’t pulling away though. He had so many troubles now, it’d be so easy to get away, but he didn’t . . . want to.) (He wanted to stay.) His voice went high into a taunting sing-song again. “Careless!”
Lucifer	"No, we haven't," Lucifer said, his grip tightening. His shoulders squared. "I refuse to, Duke."
Octavia	"For as long as we're here with you, we haven't lost a damn thing," Octavia added. Did she believe it? She had to. "Yu laik osir hodon." (The Trig flowed so freely from her now, the way it hadn't. For a while.)
embattled!Duke	Duke sneered at her, teeth bared and clenched. “You disgust me. You always have. I stayed with you out of pity!” No. No, no, no, what was he doing? Why was he saying this?
Lucifer	"Liar," Lucifer snapped. "And an inartful one at that. You must be desperate. You must know we know he's better than that."
Octavia	Octavia was shaking her head, in a sort of a... backwards sign of agreement with Lucifer. "Much better," she said, voice strained, not just with desperation now but something else, too. "Duke, you could have walked away. You kicked me out, and you didn't have to take me back, but you did, and that was not pity, it was a choice! It was love."
embattled!Duke	“What do you know of love?” Duke hissed. His cold tone broke as a battle waged inside him. “The girl under the floor who had to demand loyalty at sword point. And you!” He turned on Lucifer. “All you do is consume. You’re not the Devil, you’re gluttony personified.” Even as he spoke, though, his hand fisted in Lucifer’s jacket, hanging onto the rich cloth like it was afraid Lucifer might let go. His other hand jerked faintly, fluttering in Octavia’s direction, an injured butterfly looking for refuge.
Lucifer	"You don't think that," Lucifer said, with the same-- strain as Octavia's. "I told you I was unable to love. You told me I was wrong. You refused to leave." His hand slid up, off Duke's arm, along his cheek, into-- --he pulled loose Duke's hair tie. "Come on, love."
Octavia	Despite her earlier instincts, Octavia followed Lucifer's lead: she grabbed Duke's twitching hand with both of hers. (If he burned her, he burned her; what did it matter, against the chance to try and get her fingers in between the cracks of whatever this was, over him?) "I never had to demand anything from you," she said, still shaking her head. "And you put us together."
Duke!	Duke’s mouth opened, once again forming a little “o”. The black drained from his eyes. “That was the best idea I ever had,” he croaked.
Lucifer	"Duke!" Without thinking, Lucifer's arm closed around Duke's shoulders. Hugging him close, as if to keep Duke-- this Duke-- here with him.
Octavia	Octavia's eyes were wide, and she was gripping Duke's hand like her life depended on it. Maybe even all of their lives. "You have to stay."
Duke	Duke was making a mess of Lucifer's sleeve with one hand, and trying his best to squeeze Octavia's back with the other. "It's me," he said. "It's me. I'm trying." To stay. To not drown in the buzz of troubles again. "There's a man," he said quickly, in case he didn't have long. "Total creep, he's -- he's in charge of the troubles. He's making me collect them, but I don't -- I want to stay."
Lucifer	There's a man. He's making me. "... Well, let's go find him and rough him up," Lucifer snapped, though he didn't stop hanging on to Duke even remotely. "Cut his balls off and bury him in the ocean." Something shifted in his tone, again. Something inhuman.
Octavia	Octavia didn't disagree with the sentiment (or the weird feeling in her spine when she heard the tone), but like Duke, she was concerned they wouldn't have long to talk. "Do we know where?" Not 'do you'. They were an item, a unit, one thing.
Duke	Duke nodded quickly, still hanging onto them both like lifelines. (They were, they were, they'd brought him back to himself, he'd never be able to thank them enough.) "A farm house, by the sea. He possessed Dave in the lighthouse, he used him to get troubles but they're better through me, whatever Mara did made them better." He was babbling. He could feel the troubles bubbling under his skin, the pressure of what felt like a marble trying to force its way out his tear ducts, and terror welled at what that might mean -- A blob of black, like living ink, slipped from his eyelid and darted away through the air. "No!"
Lucifer	Lucifer's hand shot up immediately. Reflex? Muscle memory, from that time Duke had exploded? Whatever it was, he was reaching for that blob without a thought.
Octavia	The way Octavia's hand moved, reaching up, was pure reflex. The way she yanked her hand back before it got too far? Maybe that was self-preservation. Or faith in Lucifer.
Duke	Duke could barely breathe. That was a trouble. He could feel the gremlin man tugging on the others, trying to pull them free too. It was never going to end. This was going to go on forever. The gremlin man would drain him dry and torture Haven with more troubles and send Duke after them again and again and again. Until Duke was as dead as the rest of the Crockers. For a moment, just a moment, Duke knew that was the answer. When Crockers died, their troubles went too. The gremlin man couldn’t pull them from a corpse. All Duke had to do was die. As bloodlessly as possible. No. He let go of Lucifer and Octavia to clamp his hands over his eyes. As the next trouble slipped out, he felt it slip right back in, absorbed through his skin. The gremlin man pulled harder, the troubles trying to squirm free around Duke’s fingers, and he pressed his hands harder against his face, curling in against Lucifer and hissing through his teeth as he held himself together, troubles and all.
Lucifer	"Duke," Lucifer managed, strained, desperation in his voice. As they had once before, his wings unfurled almost by instinct, attempting somehow to encase not just them but also Octavia. Why couldn't he protect them from all of this? Why did he always feel so bloody useless?
Octavia	At least he had something. Octavia had felt more capable facing angels, or raising her voice at God, than she did right here. The best she could do was hastily duck inside the circle of Lucifer's wings. Best she could do was grab onto Duke, and cling to him, as if her presence would help. "Jaka, you're stronger than it." A whisper, and just as desperate. "Ai swega klin."
Duke and the gremlin man	Duke nodded, though his whole body was shaking as he fought to keep his fingers locked together over his eyes. The troubles would find any possible crack to slip through. “He can’t have them. He can’t.” “Well!” A new voice said, booming cheerfully through the warehouse. “That’s disappointing.” The gremlin man stood in the doorway, shaking his head. His fingertips glimmered as he rubbed them together, pulling at the aether in Duke. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Everything about this Crocker is a disappointment.”
Lucifer	"I would call that a ringing endorsement," Lucifer growled, looking up to catch any sight of the interloper at all. "So you're the grand puppet master, are you? I'm not impressed." His eyes flashed red.
Octavia	Octavia had let go of Duke the second she'd heard he voice, whipping around to face the door, driven by instinct, the expression on her face hardening instantly. Rage had always been easy. And nothing brought it forth like a target. She grabbed something heavy off the nearest display, and unceremoniously threw it at the man's head. (Reckless, yes. But also an attempt to distract, to maybe steal Duke a second or two without whatever was being done to him.)
Duke and the gremlin man	The gremlin man scoffed, tilting his head to dodge the thrown object -- an old, unplugged banker's lamp. The green glass shade shattered on the floor behind him. He did stop rubbing his fingers together though. Duke sucked in a soft, relieved breath as his troubles stopped forcing their way out his tear ducts. "Now that's interesting," the gremlin man said, taking a few steps closer and peering at Lucifer's eyes. "Is that one of my daughter's? She was always so creative with her troubles." Duke swallowed, daring to pull one hand away from his eyes, the other shifting to cover them both, just in case. Which troubles did he still have? And what would happen if he used them on the gremlin man? That was why he wanted them, after all. Because they could actually affect people like him. Jody shot microwaves. Focused enough to kill. Octavia was naturally resistant to radiation, and Lucifer was a celestial. So they'd be okay, even if he couldn't control them well enough. "Keep him talking," he said, low enough hopefully only his partners would hear. "I have an idea."
Lucifer	Lucifer's eyes narrowed. "Hardly," he said. "I am something far beyond your daughter's purview. Let alone yours." He'd heard Duke, yes. And so he took a few steps backwards. "In fact, it's an insult to hear you even insinuate she has anything to do with me."
Octavia	Octavia, for her part, grabbed something else off a shelf, as if she was planning another throw. Making sure the man had no reason to believe there was any other plan at play.
Duke and the gremlin man	"You're a worm," the gremlin man said flatly. "You're all worms. You should be honored to be graced with the presence of one so far above you." Duke bit into the meat at the base of his thumb, lacking another way to bleed. He focused on Jody's trouble as he tipped his hand down and let a drop of blood fall to the floor. The gremlin man looked at Octavia readying another throw and scoffed. "Persistent worms, I'll give you that." He focused one of the troubles he'd gathered himself on her, heating the object -- the bust of some old Havenite -- to white hot in less than a second.
Lucifer	When Lucifer spoke again, there was something unearthly in his tone - a growl, as if it came down from the very bowels of the Hell he had once governed. "I am Lucifer Morningstar," he snarled, starting towards the man, "And if you get anywhere near Octavia or Duke again I will rend you limb from limb and cast you into boiling lava one piece at a time!" Plan? Duke had a plan? He'd forgotten, with rage coursing through his veins.
Octavia	Octavia could feel the tone in her spine, but she didn't hear it in any way that actually counted. Because suddenly, her hand burned like it was on fire. The bust fell from her grip with a muted, strangled yelp, and thunked onto the floor.
Duke and Croatoan	"You think you're the Devil! Oh, that's precious," the gremlin man said. His own tone took on a bottomless note, the same that could be heard occasionally under Duke's voice when he was being controlled by the aether. "I've also been known by that name. And Satan, Beezlebub, 'evil incarnate'. I rather like the name the white settlers gave me when they reached this land." He spread his hands like a showman. "Croatoan." "Fuck you," Duke hissed. He spun on his heel, still keeping low, and thrust out his bitten hand in the direction of this 'Croatoan's' voice, his other hand still pressed over his eyes. "You racist, pretentious piece of shit." And fired Jody's trouble at him, as focused and hot a beam of microwaves as he could produce, right at the man's head. If they ended up hurting Lucifer a bit because he was in between Duke and Croatoan, and they were coming from Duke. . . . Well, hopefully Lucifer would notice and step out of the way.
Lucifer	"I don't think--" Somehow, Duke's salvo still caught him by surprise. He moved aside with celestial speed, but it was a smidgen too late-- burning past his side, tearing his suit, and the skin besides. "--ngh--"
Octavia	Octavia made more of a pained noise seeing Lucifer get burned than she had for herself. And neither was actually as distressing as seeing what Duke was doing, and fearing what it might do to him.
Duke and Croatoan	Lucifer and Octavia cried out in pain. But so did Croatoan. Duke grit his teeth, tried not to wonder if the feeling behind his closed eyes was tears or troubles, and pressed forward, one hand over his face, the other outstretched, pressing more and more microwaves into the gremlin man. "You -- insolent --" Croatoan growled, his skin smoking and blackening under the onslaught. He pinched his fingers together and pulled harder at the aether in Duke. But Duke, eyes closed, focusing so hard on his control of Jody's trouble, was noticing something. He recognized the feeling of the aether inside him -- and recognized its double in Croatoan. It buzzed just as hard in the gremlin man, trying to get out, trying to -- To be unmade. The aether was entropy. Forced into order by Mara and Croatoan and their kind. It wanted to break down, and they held it together by making it break everything else. But it wanted to dissolve. And, Duke was realizing, he could let it. He took his hand from his face, eyes still closed, and stood up straighter. He could feel it everywhere now. In Croatoan, in himself. In so many objects around them. In Octavia. "I can end this," he said, soft and full of wonder. Croatoan roared and lunged, determined to stop Duke with his bare hands if he had to. Duke didn't seem to notice. "I can make all of it stop."
Lucifer	"... Duke?" Lucifer was still hurting. He ignored it. He twisted and turned and saw Croatoan go and-- lunged to grab him when the world stopped slowing down and events actually registered. "Duke!"
Octavia	Octavia wasn't even feeling the pain in her hand anymore. Otherwise, she might not have used the hand to pick something else up: a knife, probably meant more for ceremonial purposes, but still sharp enough. Or maybe she would have. Either way, she threw it at Croatoan. Felt like she was already looking for the next thing while it was still in the air. (She hadn't heard Duke, this time, blood rushing in her ears.)
Duke and Croatoan	That was fair. Duke wasn't hearing any of them anymore, so focused on what he was doing, what he was sensing as he focused all his attention and energy on the aether. Croatoan howled, brought up short by Lucifer's grabbing and struck in the shoulder by the thrown knife. It was a wound he wouldn't blink at normally -- and a grip he felt he should have been able to shrug off. But for all his ego, he actually had nothing on a real celestial, and the knife, imbued with its own aether from a troubled family of yore, had him bleeding black gore. Which started to dissolve into greenish mist. And then scattered further into nothingness. "You can't!" he shouted at Duke. "You're a slug, a filthy, reeking parasite, you cannot --" He broke off with a choking noise, more black goop pouring from his mouth, his nose, his ears, and vaporizing. Duke himself was leaking, too. Thinner strands of black oozing from his closed eyes, his ears, from under his fingernails. He noticed, but didn't care; it was the aether, the stuff of troubles now undone, allowed to finally unwind and dissipate into something less than matter. The small chunk of aether that was Octavia's trouble crumbled away inside her, to be exhaled as little more than a wisp of smoke. And the effect echoed out from there, spreading out over Haven. Some would feel it happen, more would never notice until their particular trouble didn't activate when they expected it to. Until it never activated again. And if it meant Croatoan melted, Duke was fine with that. If it meant he melted -- that wasn't fine, no, but it was a price Duke was willing to pay.
Lucifer	"Duke, what are you doing?!" If Lucifer sounded somewhere near hysterical, it was-- it was because things were happening, and Duke was-- losing fluids, bleeding black, and then the man in his hands-- "Duke," he said, frantic. "Duke, this isn't right, Duke--"
Octavia	Octavia's eyes were too wide. Something had left her. Something was leaving -- "Duke, stop, stop!"
Duke and Croatoan	People were yelling. His people were yelling. "I can fix it," he said, soft and certain. Eyes still shut. (Still leaking.) "Stop it," Croatoan said, pleading now, as he sank to his knees. "You can't. . . ." Duke frowned, fingers twitching as he pulled harder. Croatoan doubled over, retching -- then collapsed into a boneless heap. Duke lowered his hands, feeling the last of the aether in the world dissipate. A few items on the shelves around them, items made from troubles, by troubles, had crumbled or shattered. Duke opened his eyes and smiled. "It's over," he said. (He stopped leaking. The black goop finished fading away.) "The troubles. All of them. I ended them." He swayed, dizzy. One side of his face went slack. (He was a thing -- a person -- made of troubles. And things inside him were crumbling and shattering.)
Lucifer	Lucifer had called Duke's name so many times, it sounded like nonsense in his mouth. He said it again anyway, as he grappled for the man. Duke. Duke. He felt nothing but panic. Hands on Duke's arm, and they found just panic, panic.
Octavia	There was an impulse in Octavia, to guard, to keep her attention on Croatoan's crumpled form on the floor. But there was just too much panic in Lucifer, drawing her in. And it turned her towards them - and filled her right up, too. "Beja," fell from her lips, again. Now we get to the pleading.
Duke	“It’s okay,” Duke said. “It’s over.” That’s what he thought he said, rather. It came out more than slurred, just a mess of breathy vowels and the occasional cracked consonant. He slumped against Lucifer, the last of his breath slipping out in a sigh. He didn’t take another one.
Lucifer	Duke. Duke. Duke. "Duke. Duke! Duke!" He wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing. "He's not breathing. He's not breathing. He's not breathing."
Octavia	Something washed over Octavia. It felt like calm, but maybe it was just a kind of numbness. Panic got swept aside, replaced by old instinct. (Blodreina never had room to feel things.) "Lay him down!" she barked. "We have to do CPR." (Her eyes were too wild.)
Lucifer	"I don't think--" He wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing. He wasn't going to breathe ever again-- Lucifer let Duke slide out of his arms. Octavia seemed to know what to do. He didn't.
Octavia	Octavia had no choice. Zero. She had to fight because otherwise she would die, that was what her instincts were screaming at her. So she did everything on autopilot, in accordance with what she'd learned a long, long time ago. Pulse (wasn't there), position, compressions -- It wasn't doing anything. It wasn't doing anything.
Lucifer	It wasn't doing anything. And Lucifer knew-- he knew it wouldn't do anything, he realized. He could feel-- nothing. Not a hint of a human soul. He could feel something else. Elsewhere, further, pricking at the back of his consciousness. "Octavia," he said. "Octavia." To heaven? No. Something twisted in his stomach.
Octavia	"Do something!" Octavia screamed. And there she was, returning to her body from whatever safe, numb place she'd slipped to. (The way Duke wasn't returning.) Her hands faltered. Beginning to shake.
Lucifer	Lucifer startled at the sound of that scream. Why hadn't he expected it? No idea, but his body jerked with it, as if a thought had just violently slotted into place. "I'm going to find him," he said. Something had just injected ice into his veins and he needed to move. "Stay here." As if she would be anywhere else. He unfolded his wings, and turned. And within a moment, a beat, he was gone, leaving a sole white feather drifting to the ground.

---

Duke	Duke was in love with the Devil. He knew how Hell worked, that it was a place where humans tortured themselves as much as they were tortured by demons. He knew that he could walk out, refuse the torture, at any time. And besides that, he'd just saved his world from the Troubles. Likely at least one other world, besides. How was he still here, in his own private corner of Hell, undergoing endless torture? "Fresh nachos!" he said. "Piping hot. And a mudslide to go with it." He was human. And he'd been torturing himself with this memory for years, even on Earth. That was how. The demons playing Octavia and Evi, the teenager, Pike, all played their parts to perfection. And Duke cycled through it all, the fear, the pain, the fresh realization of just what Octavia had had to do, had had to become, over and over again. And every time, he made the same ultimate choice. "I thought I said 'leave'." and "You're Wonkru or you're the enemy of Wonkru, right? I'm never going to be Wonkru." and worst of all "Just go, Octavia. I can't -- just go." Demons had nothing on how much humans could hurt themselves.
Lucifer	Wild panic and ice still fought for control over Lucifer's celestial blood by the time he touched down in Hell's endless corridors, the ash wafting down from the dark sky to settle on the shoulders of his already-ruffled suit. A demon came careening towards him, her eyes lit up with joy, but he brushed past her and her effusive welcome-backs. Duke. He knew where Duke's door was. He rushed between dark pillars. Past a hundred doors. Past Daniel's door. And then there it was: unassuming, rickety, free of chains. He reached for the handle blindly.
Duke	Duke sat in one of the chairs at the far end of the Gull’s deck, nursing his bottle. Ouzo. This was what happened when you grabbed blindly. But at least the taste of licorice would help wash away the phantom taste of blood from his mouth. He didn't look up at Octavia when she came out. Just kept staring out over the water. "I thought I said 'leave'." Octavia stopped dead in her tracks. Duke took a long sip from the bottle. “Is it true?” he asked. “Did you force people to eat each other?”
Lucifer	The door fell shut behind him. Lucifer's eyes were drawn to the demon - wearing Octavia's skin poorly. And then, there, to Duke. He exhaled. (Do something!)
Duke	"There was no other option," the demon playing Octavia said. Duke scowled, his stomach rolling. He wanted to throw up, but there was nothing inside him but the ouzo. "Pretty sure you could have let people choose for themselves if they wanted to become cannibals."
Lucifer	So this was Duke's Hell loop. Lucifer swallowed. He took another moment to steel himself. And then he waved his hand, halting the demon, the world around them, everything. Creating a moment of perfect stillness.
Duke	It took Duke a moment, so locked as he was in the repetition of this scene. A part of him thought Octavia was going still, the way she did at times. Shutting down. “You knew it was wrong!” he said, breaking his own script. “That’s why you wouldn’t tell me! You knew. . . .” He trailed off, hands fisting in his hair. “You — I knew —“ He swayed, mind reeling, and saw Lucifer. “I knew,” he said, small and fragile. “I knew this would break us. But I couldn’t — I can’t —“
Lucifer	"You were in shock, obviously," Lucifer said. He sounded almost absent, but his eyes were alert, drinking in Duke's face like a starving man.
Duke	Duke shuddered, his whole body wavering. “Shock,” he echoed, then shook his head. “I hurt her. On purpose. Just because I was angry and scared.” He looked at Octavia (she was still Octavia to him; he hadn’t really grasped yet what was happening). “I’m so sorry, gona. I broke us.”
Lucifer	"We're not broken, love," Lucifer said. Whatever spell had grasped his limbs peeled away, and he stepped forward. "You came back. We all came back from this."
Duke	Duke looked back at him, frowning. "Did we?" he asked, genuinely confused. Part of him was still stuck in the rut of this moment, in torturing himself with it. And the part that wasn't -- also wasn't sure. He couldn't remember how, exactly, he and Octavia had come back together. He just knew Octavia had told him at some point that they were broken. And that this was when he thought that had happened.
Lucifer	Lucifer-- didn't know what to do. Do something. "Let's go somewhere better to talk, shall we?" he said. He waved a hand. He searched blindly. Somewhere better. Somewhere safer.
Duke	The world shifted, startling Duke. Suddenly they were in Lucifer's mansion, the smell of spices still in the air from the fresh samosas Duke had made that night. The night Duke had asked Octavia not to call him "Deimeika" anymore. "I think there's something broken between us," the demon playing Octavia said, going with the flow. Duke closed his eyes and sucked in a wet breath. Bracing instinctively to face the consequences of his long-ago actions.
Lucifer	There was nothing else, though. Hell still responded easily to Lucifer's command, and the demon vanished in an instant. "Duke," he said, and finally crossed the space between them. "Duke, you have to snap out of it, all right?" Do something.
Duke	Duke shook his head, confused. He opened his eyes and stared at the space the demon had been. (Where had Octavia gone? Nothing was making any sense!) "I don't understand."
Lucifer	A few more steps, and there Lucifer was. Bracing his hands on the sofa, on either side of Duke. "Darling," he said quietly, "You're dead."
Duke	Duke’s mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments. He wanted to cry. Or shout. Or laugh. It was patently absurd. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. He was — he was — He looked around, trying to find — something. Proof that Lucifer was wrong. That he was lying. (Lucifer never lied.) They’d been at the Gull. But they were at the mansion. Octavia was here, but now she wasn’t, and — And he couldn’t breathe. (Dead men don’t breathe.) “No,” he said, voice unfathomably small. “That’s. No.”
Lucifer	Lucifer could not stop himself from sliding onto the sofa if he'd tried. (He had no desire to try.) As soon as he was seated, he reached for Duke, tugging him wordlessly into himself. This was Duke. Duke, no longer in his body, but still here.
Duke	Duke let himself be pulled, still trying to wrap his mind around what Lucifer had said. Dead. He was dead. He was dead and had been reliving regrets and -- "This is Hell." It wasn't a question, but it had no strength behind it. He was dead. And in Hell. And he had no idea what to do next.
Lucifer	"Yes," Lucifer said. He swallowed. His mouth felt dry regardless. Do something. "I paused your Hell loop."
Duke	Paused. Would it start again? Duke couldn't be sure what the ball squeezing itself up his throat would come out his mouth as, whether a laugh, a cry, or even throwing up. He just knew he couldn't keep it down. He curled in on himself, balling up in Lucifer's grip, and let it out. It wasn't a laugh or a sob, but something in between. And once it started, it didn't stop. And anyway, Duke realized, who cared if it did or not? He was dead. And in Hell. There was no one left to impress or protect. Just him and Lucifer and the demons. Forever.
Lucifer	"Darling," Lucifer whispered, anew, brushing his hand over Duke's hair. Kissing the top of his head, wrapping his arms tighter. Something in his chest squeezed painfully. It refused to let go. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you."
Duke	Duke wrapped his fingers in Lucifer's shirt and sobbed. Openly, brokenly, in a way he hadn't done since well before his earliest memories. He cried to mourn his life, mostly disappointing and entirely too short, and his death, which he could only remember in snatches. He cried for the boy he'd been and the man that boy should have become if his lineage hadn't been poisoned so long ago. And, underneath it all, he cried for Lucifer and Octavia. For one being here, holding him through all this, and the other being so far away, so utterly unreachable.
Lucifer	And Lucifer-- Lucifer was still in shock. It thawed only slowly, as he held on to Duke, unsure of what else to do with himself but that. But it thawed, coming loose in small chunks. The first feeling to escape was anger. He felt it burn in his heart, slip into his skin, overtake him. He held on. It was all he knew how to do.
Duke	It felt, in the moment, like the tears weren't going to stop. That this would somehow become his new Hell loop, sitting here and sobbing into his boyfriend's shirt for everything he'd lost. Slowly but surely though, the tears slowed. Leaving Duke feeling sore and hollowed out. He breathed softly for a few moments -- out of habit, he'd have to assume -- and tried to recenter himself. It shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that the first thing he said when he had his voice back under his control was "Tavi?" Was she alive? Alone somewhere? He couldn't stand the thought.
Lucifer	The anger was boiling. The question broke through, but only to a point. Lucifer blinked. "She's not here," he said.
Duke	Yeah. Duke had noticed that. (He really hoped Lucifer meant she was not in Hell.) "Is she alone?"
Lucifer	"Yes, but not for long," Lucifer said. He eyed Duke. "Time works differently down here, remember? I could be with you for two months and it would barely be a minute up there."
Duke	"She shouldn't be alone." Duke had a lot more trouble wrapping his head around that than he did his own death. "How long has it been? Since I . . . I died?" His voice cracked faintly on the word. How could it not?
Lucifer	"A minute. Less." Do something, Octavia had said. He should do something.
Duke	Duke was out of tears. So the sound he made had to be a laugh. He pressed his face into Lucifer's shoulder again, muffling it. His body wouldn't even be cold yet. "So this is it. This is my . . . forever." That word still terrified him. "You'll go there for minutes. And I'll be here for months." Until Octavia died. Or Lucifer got tired of splitting his time, maybe. "You should just go. I can't --" His breath came faster again, panic and grief washing over him in another wave. "I can't --"
Lucifer	"I won't." Ah, there was the anger. Lucifer was trying to keep the rigidity out of his spine while he held Duke, but he just... he was so angry. How dare Haven. How dare that little snivelling bastard. And Duke, sacrificing himself again. It felt like a sick game, the kind Father had always loved to play.
Duke	Anger. Oh yes. Anger was a much better emotion than the mass of pain Duke was feeling right now. It was so much simpler. Duke latched onto it hard. “I’m not even supposed to be here! I’m supposed to be starting over as a seagull or a fish! And you think I want to stay here with you for months at a time if it means she’s alone for even a minute?” He tried to shake Lucifer, though he didn’t have the leverage, the way he was still gripping Lucifer’s shirt. “This is your stupid afterlife, Lucifer, fucking fix it!”
Lucifer	Do something. Fix it. Do something. Fix it. "I always told you the bloody seagull thing wasn't going to happen, didn't I?" Lucifer snapped, veering up off of the sofa. Not away from Duke, mind. He hauled the man right to his feet. "I told you you'd wind up here, and if you think I'm going to abandon you, you're absolutely out of your nautical mind!"
Duke	Yes. Lucifer had always said that. And Duke had never wanted it, so he’d refused to believe it. “So what are you going to do then?” he demanded. Still hanging onto Lucifer’s shirt even as he was hauled to his feet. “Because we are not doing this forever!”
Lucifer	It was funny, how much time Lucifer had spent convincing him-- both of them-- to let him do something. To let him fix things when they broke. And yet now, when it was most important, he didn't have a bloody answer. "I don't know," he said, through gritted teeth. "But we are leaving this room. I need to go somewhere I can think." He dragged Duke towards the door. When he pushed it open, there was-- dark walls, rising high up towards the sky. Ashes, drifting down. The real infrastructure of Hell. Do something do something do something do something. Something roiled in his stomach. The world swam.
Duke	Duke couldn’t help him. Because he’d just been dragged from — okay, not actually Lucifer’s living room, but basically Lucifer’s living room into — into something that actually looked like Hell. He stared. Head whipping around and craning up as he tried to take it all in at once (but had never been meant to take it in at all). It was like the Anti-Barn. All darkness where the Barn had been blinding white, though both seemed to extend forever (oh how he hated that word). He spotted a giant, towering seat rising above it all in the distance and swallowed. No wonder Lucifer liked to surround himself in luxury, if he’d been forced to live here for millennia.
Lucifer	"I've left Daniel sitting in his own paused Hell-loop," Lucifer was saying, caught up deep in his own thoughts. "But you don't want that. And Octavia--" He paused in the hallway, and stared at the demon - dressed in a nurse's outfit, holding a bloody blade, whose eyes lit up as she saw him - and let out a groan. "Octavia wants me to do something," he said, whipping around to look at Duke before the demon could come to him.
Duke	“Daniel,” Duke echoed faintly, still staring, then “oh fuck —“ when he saw the demon. He wasn’t afraid of medical professionals, but damn, now he might be. “Yes, do something. That’s — yes please.” . . . Wait, was Dan still down here?!
Lucifer	Yes. Yes, he was. "Perhaps Dan, even with his regrettable intellectual capabilities, might be able to help inspire us," Lucifer said. He gripped Duke by the wrist and yanked him past the demon. "Yes, yes, of course you're happy to see me," he pushed out between his teeth. "No time." The anger was fading. Despair was straight ahead. He couldn't let himself give in to it.
Duke	Duke hardly needed to be yanked. He was only just managing not to cower behind Lucifer. “We’re going to see Dan,” he said, feeling foolish. His anger had faded too, but the other side of it for him right now was more terror. Especially if demons kept walking by. “Goody?”
Lucifer	"Lord Morningstar!" the demon cried. Lucifer rolled his eyes. "It's so hard to get good help that understands instruction," he muttered, stopping before a tall black door. He yanked it open, and revealed... ... a familiar LA precinct police station. A large ping-pong table sat at the bottom of the stairs. Dan and another police officer were trading volleys back and forth. "Daniel!"
Duke	Dan was stuck in a police station playing ping-pong. Duke shuddered faintly. This place was so much creepier than the fiery caverns Dante had described. “Hi,” he said, giving a little finger wiggle with his free hand. “How’s it, uh. Going?”
Lucifer	The ping-pong ball hopped over to the other side and fell right off the table on the police officer's end. Dan spun around, his face lighting up. "Lucifer!" he said. "You're back! What's the plan? How are we going to do..." He spotted Duke, then, and faltered, frowning. "...this." Lucifer let out a frustrated noise, yanking Duke inside with him. "I don't have one," he said. "Duke here just died and I'm completely lost. I was hoping you could inspire me." Dan blinked slowly. "Inspire you with what?" he said. "Everything's been the same for the last thousand years. Hell still sucks." He waved his ping-pong bat at the police officer. "Belios here still sucks. Ping-pong is not his game."
Duke	“Thousand —“ Duke went faintly green. “In a police station??” He was going to have so many nightmares about this. You know, assuming he ever slept again.
Lucifer	"I had to pause his Hell loop and he's comfortable here," Lucifer sighed. He looked at Dan. "Daniel, I have commanded the demons to not torture you. You are the first soul ever in this 'purgatory.'" He gestured irritably. "I've invented an entirely new afterlife for you, so I apologize if Belios' serve isn't up to snuff." "It's more my backhand that's weak," Belios said. Weakly, waving his bat around. Lucifer reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm sorry. I know you're the one stuck here. But I'm trying to find solutions to extremely difficult metaphysical problems, all right? And now Duke's dead!" Dan stared at him. "Don't look at me," he said. "I've already tried every door in this place. I even tried the one that guy Lee walked through." "Well, Lee's door was a metaphor for his own guilt," Lucifer pointed out. The groan he got was certainly-- something. "I know it was a metaphor, Lucifer!"
Duke	Duke didn't know who Lee was or why his door was a big deal, so he stuck to what he did know. "So you could just, like. Not be in a police station." Duke, some of your best friends were cops. Calm down.
Lucifer	Lucifer half-turned to face him. "Darling," he said, "That we're in a police station has been amply established. Can we focus?"
Duke	“I am literally dead and in Hell,” Duke said. “So, uh. ‘Focus’ is asking a lot.” He felt he was doing very well here. He’d only broken down sobbing once so far and hadn’t even started screaming!
Lucifer	"I want to say you get used to it, but you don't," Dan sighed. He looked at Lucifer, a hint of accusation in his eyes. "You know, I don't even know why I'm down here. You know as well as I do that I've dealt with all my guilt. So why am I still here? Why was that guy able to make it into Heaven and literally no one else? Why not me?" Lucifer rubbed at his face. "I don't know." If he did, this might be easier. Though sending Duke on to Heaven was also not really-- okay, that was a selfish thought.
Duke	Heaven was also not Duke’s preferred afterlife, so he would encourage Lucifer to think selfishly. He started to say something about Lucifer’s dad being a dick, or maybe something about expecting Hell to be fair . . . but Lucifer had just fussed at him about being focused. So he just kind of hung back instead, trying not to look like he was hiding behind Lucifer’s shoulder (though he was absolutely hiding behind Lucifer’s shoulder.)
Lucifer	"Well, it seems pretty simple to me," Dan said. His tone was getting a lot sharper. "Just stop screwing around and go be God. Then you can just, like, beam me up." Meanwhile, Lucifer's pinch around the bridge of his nose suddenly upped in pressure. "Daniel, Daniel, Daniel, we have been through this," he sighed. "If I act against your wishes, no matter how unconscious those are, then that is the end of free will, which I cannot do." He waved vaguely at Dan. "I can't just blip you to heaven, and your body has been dead and buried for-- months? Years? So even if I thought it would be a good idea, I can't put you back in there for a new spin even if I now that I have all these God powers, so--" He stopped talking abrupty. He dropped his hands.
Duke	Duke frowned at the trailing off. Were he not quite so distracted by the “dead and in Hell” of it all he might also be connecting dots and doing math, but, well. It wasn’t like this place was meant to be soothing, you know? “Luce?”
Lucifer	"Your heart stopped," Lucifer said, his eyes widening at... nothing, as he blew through years of experience stalking the Detective from murder to murder. "But it takes a minute before your brain starts to die. Much longer for it to finish doing so." He whipped around to look at Duke. "Your soul has left, but Octavia had been doing chest compressions-- your body may not be fully dead yet."
Duke	“I don’t have to be dead?” Duke asked. He was going to feel so bad for Dan later, having to see Duke have a chance he never got.
Lucifer	Well, Dan would have his own problems soon enough. For now, though, he was thinking the exact same thing. "Wait, he gets to come back and I don't?" he screeched. "What the fuck, Lucifer?!" "I wasn't God when you died," Lucifer pointed out. He felt. Cold. And-- something else. He was God, wasn't he? ... He was God. Oh. God. "I'll see you," he managed, and then found himself rushing out the door, extending his wings. Back back back to Duke's body quick quick-- He'd think later about the wisdom of leaving Duke stranded at a police station with Daniel, but... oh well.
Duke	“Luce?!” Duke’s tone was very different now. “Luce! Shouldn’t I, like, go with you?!” He was too late to catch up, though. He turned back to Dan with a deeply awkward smile, terror bubbling behind it. “So, uh. Ping pong, huh?”

---

Octavia	Stay here, Lucifer had said, just now. But there wasn't even anywhere for Octavia to go. (Except a field right outside Arkadia. And a nook in the streets of Polis.) Her hands were still pressed against Duke's chest, but they were shaking in earnest now. Doing nothing to help, because there was nothing. The Duke under he hands, on the floor, was nothing but a shell. (Yu gonplei ste o--) Her hands yanked themselves back, like an involuntary convulsion, and then pressed tight over her mouth.
Lucifer	There was the sound of wings. And then, hands, grasping her arm. Pushing her aside. Lucifer sank to his knees and let go almost as soon as he'd touched her, pressing his hands against Duke's body. His forehead. His chest. "Come on, come on," he snarled. "I'm God, me dammit, Duke--"
Octavia	He returned so fast it made Octavia feel like she was hallucinating. Was he actually there, had he actually been gone at all? (Maybe this was Hell.) Her hands left her face when she needed them to catch herself so she wouldn't just topple over. It allowed for a weak "Wh-what?" to slip through.
Lucifer	Lucifer felt-- He felt every atom under his fingers. Not all at once; they crept into view like water finding a new way to flow downhill. He saw skin, and then fat, muscle, veins and-- the heart, empty and dead, its last precious cargo slipping into the far edges of Duke's body. He willed its blackened, dying tissue to melt away, to be replaced with new atoms, cells, feeling it spread and pinken and then... Beat. "Duke, come on!"
Duke	Duke spasmed. Inhaled. Then launched himself upward, an unconscious jerk as adrenaline flooded his system. His last memory was of arguing with Dan about the role of police in modern life and now he was — A half-scream, perceptual whiplash, overwhelmed his newly restored respiratory system and he started to cough. He had no idea what was going on.
Octavia	Octavia made a startled noise, but beyond that, she could only stare. Uncomprehending.
Lucifer	Something glowed behind Lucifer's eyes, something golden threatening to push through, to leak out. He was barely aware of it, yanking his hands back as the atoms danced in the back of his consciousness. "Duke," he breathed, sitting back.
Duke	Duke could only stare up at him, eyes wide, almost uncomprehending. His chest heaving as the coughs slowed and his body started to adjust to being alive again. He was alive again. Would anyone judge if he just kind of burst into tears?
Octavia	Not a single one. Octavia was looking pretty close to it, too. "Duke." Even with all the feeling in it (confusion, longing) it was barely more than a whisper.
Lucifer	Oh god. He was god. Lucifer's gaze dropped down from Duke to his own hands. Oh no. Oh god.
Duke	It was just existential crises all around today then, wasn't it. As Duke started to feel more in control, his breaths became a little more exaggerated. He took deep breaths, then shallow ones. Held it on the inhale for a moment, on the exhale for a moment. He was breathing. On purpose. A laugh bubbled up, and he made no effort to hold it back. "I'm alive. Oh fuck. I'm alive."
Octavia	Somehow, that was what broke Octavia out of her frozen state. The expression on her face twisted, and she scrambled forward to grab for Duke. To hold him, maybe, or just to confirm. He was moving. Breathing. Living.
Lucifer	Lucifer took one large, shuddering breath of his own, and looked back up. Without thinking about it, he shifted out of the way, so Octavia could have some space. Please excuse him. He was processing too many things at once.
Duke	Duke grabbed onto Octavia in return, still laughing. He was alive. He was alive. He was never taking that for granted again.
Octavia	Lucifer was trying to process too many things. Octavia was managing only just the one, holding on to Duke with all her might and repeating his name in between sobs against his shoulder. For this exact moment, there was nothing but relief.
Lucifer	It was too soon. Too soon. What, should he go up to Heaven now and sit on Dad's throne? His siblings would know. Amenadiel would know. It was a miracle Amenadiel hadn't already-- No. Stop. Lucifer willed the command into the universe, his eyes drawn to the ceiling.
Duke	Duke let go of Octavia with one hand (the other clinging even tighter in compensation) and groped for Lucifer. “Luce,” he said with looking. “Lucifer, you fucking beautiful man, get over here.”
Octavia	Octavia kept clinging hard enough for the both of them, really. In fact, she kind of felt like she might never let go again.
Lucifer	The request startled Lucifer out of his thoughts. He looked-- impressively pale. But he moved with it anyway, throwing his arms around Duke. Right. Duke was alive. It wasn't all terror.
Duke	Duke would eventually notice Lucifer was struggling. Just not yet. “Thank you,” he said, hand fisting in the back of Lucifer’s jacket. “Oh my god, baby. Thank you!” No pun intended.
Octavia	It was quite a thing Octavia was doing, trying to keep on holding onto Duke like her life depended on it (maybe it did) while also freeing up a hand to try and grab a hold of Lucifer, too. There were no words.
Lucifer	Lucifer let them grab him. His own eyes ached-- no, they were tearing up. He wasn't sure about which part. All of the parts? He turned his head and pressed it firmly into Duke's (alive, alive) free shoulder.
Duke	Duke held onto them both as best he could, little amazed, relieved laughs still bubbling up here and there. He was happy to stay right here (forever) as long as they’d let him.
Octavia	Octavia wasn't in a hurry - although in a moment she might be. Once she started coming back to herself, became more aware of their surroundings again. But for right now? Words were starting to come back. Messy, garbled, full of feeling. "Ai hod yu in, ai hod yo in."
Lucifer	It took a moment. "We love you." But Lucifer found... some words, at least.
Duke	The laugh was edging into sobs again. Of relief this time. And anger. But the grief from Hell was gone. “I love you guys too.” He couldn’t actually cling any tighter, but he tried. “So, so much.” They’d stuck with him. Even when his trouble went crazy. Even when he didn’t listen to them. Even when he — He spotted what was left of the gremlin man, a mass of clothes and organic sludge, and felt the anger flare higher. Even when a creep crawled into his head and made him into his emotionless slave. “Thank you,” he said again. “Thank you. So, so much.”
Octavia	Octavia thought that thank you had nothing at all to do with her, which finally drew at least some of her attention away from Duke and over to Lucifer. She turned her head, to try and see him. "Lucifer?" What did you do? was there, if not in so many words.
Lucifer	"I'm God, aren't I?" It wasn't answering her question... exactly. Lucifer sounded overwhelmed, and more than a touch desperate.
Duke	That got Duke’s attention away from his own issues. “I . . . don’t know if we can answer that.” He brought Duke back though. There weren’t many beings that were known to be able to do that. Especially without it backfiring. (Oh shit. Was Duke going to turn into a zombie? He did not want to be a zombie.)
Octavia	Octavia was staring at what little she could see of Lucifer. He'd gone, and he'd come back, and then Duke had -- And now he was saying that, and sounding like that, and he hadn't even mentioned the God thing in who even knew how long, and -- "Lucifer," she breathed, again. "Are... you?"
Lucifer	"It's too soon," Lucifer said. A little desperate. A little helpless. (It had been years. It was still too soon.) "I--"
Duke	Duke twisted a little to get a better grip on Lucifer. “We’re with you,” he said. “Whatever happens. Whatever you need to do. We’re with you.” He’d gotten Duke out of Hell. Given him a second chance. Duke would follow him anywhere for that.
Octavia	As much as Octavia was even able to have complicated thoughts in this moment, she thought it was a little more... complicated than that. But she thought something else, too. "We need to go home." Whatever they needed to solve next, they wouldn't be able to do it here.
Lucifer	Lucifer swallowed. "Home," he said. Home, he thought. Please let us go-- There was a hint of something golden in the air-- familiar, perhaps, from years ago, at the end of a long battle. But before anyone could fully register it, it was gone. And so was Haven-- giving way to familiar wood and steel and drifting waves.

[Preplayed with the fantabulous my_own_advocate and okteiviakom. Not so much adapted as completely reimagined from the end of season 5B of Haven. CW: CHARACTER DEATH (temporary), gore, murder, possession, Hell, etc. Our folks do not have a good time, okay?]

[Anyway, NFB due to distance]