Antidepressant Withdrawal (1)

She glanced down at her phone, looking at the number before deciding to answer.

The voice in the other end spoke, "Everything went well, my daughter?"

She smirked slightly. "He just needs a little more 'help', and I'm ready to provide it."

"How long then?"

She frowned at the impatience laced in his tone. "The time I need."

"Our Lord spends a lot of time with that human; do you really want Him to keep wasting His precious time?"

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "I'll have to give him a little incentive then, though even if I do that, it'd be hard. The boy's will isn't shattering for some reason."

There was waiting at the other end; she leaned on the table of one of the cuckoos inside this damned hospital as she waited, taking a french fry from the tray that belonged to someone who has been looking outside the window for two hours already.

"I've already prepared something in case things get problematic." She arched an eyebrow. "I don't want to use it, so you better not fail me, my child. You don't want ─ " She shut her phone when she saw Aaron walking around the corner, looking at the counter for something to eat; glancing at her right she noticed the food still intact of one of the patients that looked too out of it to even notice when she took it from his table. She smiled and called for him.

"Aaron?" He didn't hear her. She scoffed but walked closer, deciding to stand behind him with a hand on her waist as she put the best smile the girl's body had to offer, careful of not showing too many teeth. "I was waiting for you, Aaron. I almost go to your room."

He looked over his shoulder looking surprised before a smile started to form on his lips.

Remember to not show many teeth, she thought to herself.

- -

Lucifer ran a hand through Aaron's hair, making sure that nightmares wouldn't haunt his dreams as continued to sleep beside him, using his chest as a pillow. He had decided to stay with him after he finished telling the story of how he escaped from the Jail and putting him into sleep. Aaron had listened carefully as Lucifer tried to find the right words about how he had spent many centuries inside that place. Pushing and shoving his wings with all the force he could muster against the walls that surrounded him; the rage that clouded his mind that didn't weaken even as he started to grow tired. He didn't let himself feel otherwise either, not wanting to let his Father and brothers win by giving up.

But even with his mind full of emotions, he still noticed the moment he couldn't feel Father anymore. At first, he had thought that it was something else to punish him with, as it was the fact that he couldn't hear the song of his siblings either, only the faint echoes of their emotions. However, when he became aware of the panic in the high ranks of Heaven, faint as he could sense it from where he was, he knew that Father had indeed left them alone. Another vacation as He called it, he was sure.

Though he hadn't taken one since he created the other angels. Probably why they were panicking.

It made him feel smug for many years, accomplished, knowing that he had won in this fight of wills. The feeling didn't last, though; he realized of the consequences of his rebellion when Gabriel, the youngest of the archangels, came to his cage to weep golden tears, mumbling about how everything was horrible upstairs as the angels that had followed his cause kept fighting. Their siblings killed each other and Michael commanded them to fight as if they were demons and not the ones they had laughed with once. There was at least an angel's death per day and Gabriel, who was The messenger, had finally joined the battle. Not even Raphael was safe from it; they didn't need a healer anymore when demons joined the war, just soldiers.

Lucifer had never seen Gabriel being nothing but cheerful, always cheerful. It saddened him greatly the sight of the wings dropping beside the brilliant form that Lucifer could still see even with the number of cloaks that his little brother had used to hide from demons and angels. One of the tricks he had taught the younger archangel many centuries ago.

Gabriel looked up at the sky after he finished and smiled miserably for a long time. Lucifer could feel his grace full of disappointment and longing, yearning for the family they once were. 'Heaven does not longer feel like home anymore' were the last words Lucifer heard before his little brother left; adding one layer more at the cloak so not even Lucifer could see through it.

That had been the only time he had wanted to give up and pray for his father, to tell him that He had won and to stop everything, please. He had never truly wanted this for his brothers; he just wanted their Father to be the one to suffer.

He spent a few years thinking about what he had done; he didn't have other things to entertain himself in that Cage after all. Earth was a blur above him, Heaven even fainter for him to glimpse; Hell being the only view he could see clearly. He thought that it had something to do with the fact that Hell chapped itself following the true form of their ruler; a position that had belonged to Lucifer since the moment his grace had touched it. Therefore, even though no one could see nor hear him from the outside, he still saw, heard, and felt everything around him with the same clarity as he saw his wings growing more deteriorated by each decade it passed.

He once mentioned to Aaron how accurate humans were in their belief that Hell was a place where your only friends were desperation and pain; never-ending torture full of blazing fire and brimstone that burnt cold like his wings, instead of producing the heath most would have thought Hell possessed. Engulfing all its territory into complete darkness, with the echoing cries of souls as the only symphony you'd be able to hear for centuries until you become powerful enough to manage a few trips to earth. Aaron knew this, but at the time Lucifer had explained it, he hadn't felt comfortable enough around him to ask for more, as he did now.

So yes, there was sulfur lingering as dark smoke in the air, so dense that you'll choke at your attempts to breathe it. But no, it didn't taste like smog; more like blood mixed with sweat, and even the sheer desperation the souls felt left a unique taste in the air. Um, yes, the permanent sound belonged to the mutilated cries of souls; after all, torture was the usual hobby most demons used to liberate stress. He hadn't known what to answer at first when Aaron asked him if it rained in Hell. Do it counts if the rain that pours is acid? Oh, then yes. It rains.

Lucifer agreed with Aaron when he mentioned how boring it would be to be in that Jail. Because it was true, after many centuries down there, it became dull and tiring to watch the same thing from inside a literal box, even Lucifer's anger began to lessen from him. It didn't mean that he stopped his attempts of escaping, though; instead, it led him to analyze better his situation, to think clearer.

He decided to be patient, to concentrate all his power for years until he could make one small spot. It weakened him greatly for some time, leaving his wings ruffled and tired, but he was able to concentrate the necessary energy all over again after some rest. It passed millennia before a crack finally appeared in one of the walls. A few more centuries until he was one pull of his grace away from freedom.

His excitement only lasted a few days, though, as the brother he had never thought would visit him, appeared on the top of his Jail, on earth. It was a lot of harder for him to look at something that it wasn't Hell, but Lucifer tried. Turning all his eyes up, pressing them to the walls. Smugness pouring from his grace when he felt Michael's eyes on him, too; he knew that their father was the one who had created that Jail and therefore the only one who knew its structure. Michael couldn't repair it without Father's help.

He accommodated in his cell and was ready to hear Michael's lecture about how he was the bad son, and needed to accept the responsibility of his actions, or maybe about how hordes of Heaven were waiting for him to escape, ready to attack.

However, it came none of that.

"The sound of Gabriel's horn is supposed to announce when the Apocalypse is near, but our brother is no longer Home," he started, his voice holding a weariness Lucifer hadn't heard before. "Almost at the same time our Father left."

"No longer home." Lucifer scoffed, talking even when he knew that Michael couldn't hear him. "Nice wording. You make it sound as if it wasn't intentional when it's more like our little brother escaped from the fight."

"I am tired, Lucifer. Too tired of this petty fight that will only end in destruction." Lucifer's head moved closer to where Michael was, confused. He hadn't expected that. "When you finally get out I will not fight you, brother. But if you create havoc on Earth I will not have more choice but to do so."

Lucifer brushed his grace against the crack on the wall, surprised when Michael's grace followed the path he made; they couldn't touch but his brother seemed to be able to sense him.

"Lucifer, please, will you think about it?" Michael almost pleaded, grace still shinning before it recoiled into itself and left.

And he did think about it. Mostly because he was also tired. He was still mad at their Father. After all, He had called humans His most beloved creation - because He wanted his siblings to bow. He wanted Lucifer to bow before them! To proclaim that some monkeys were better than his brethren. It was true that Lucifer admitted a few centuries ago that he might have taken it out with the humans instead of dealing directly with his father. He didn't deny either that he still wanted to do it, but didn't see any purpose in destroying all of humanity if their father wasn't there to look.

So he waited a few years more before he decided to escape, thinking.