Earthbound
By sidewinder
Archive: Only at my homepage and ff.n, thanks.
Fandom: Brimstone
Rating: NC-17 for violence and possible explicit sexual content
Warnings: It's Brimstone. It's not going to be pretty. Slashy themes and content.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money off of this. The following is written purely for fun and not for profit.
Summary: Zeke gets in trouble, the devil does something unexpected, and much is revealed while a demon is pursued.
Feedback: Please? :-)
Notes: This story has been in the works for somewhere close to two years now. I have all intentions to finally finish it up in the very near future--if only to give myself some peace of mind and have it stop haunting me!
* * *
Chapter One
Ezekiel Stone was back in Hell.
Yet he was still on Earth...at least he thought he was. He had a hard time remembering, or thinking clearly beyond his pain. All he knew anymore was pain--physical pain that had become his world, worse than he had ever known.
It was his own fault, too, that much he remembered. He hadn't listened to the warning voice in his head that had told him something was wrong, that he was in danger. Chasing a demon through the dark, deserted back alleys of downtown LA, he had become so focused on the hunt that he hadn't noticed the others closing in on him. He should have paid more attention--years as a cop had taught him that his "bad feelings" and hunches were rarely unfounded. But he'd been too determined not to lose the demon he'd been trailing for days to stop, not when he was so close, so certain he had the bastard right where he wanted him.
And he'd run right into a trap. Cornered the demon in a dead-end alley, oblivious until it was too late of the others there, waiting for him. He had been the one cornered instead, caught off-guard and out-numbered. He could handle one of his own kind at a time, but he'd stood no chance against five...five who had known exactly who he was, and who wanted revenge.
His fault. He should have known better. The pain he now suffered served as a brutal reminder of his mistake, one he would never make again. He doubted he'd ever get the chance.
Voices, pieces of conversation drifted past his ears, but he could barely focus enough to make sense of what was being said. It was just random noise grating on his frazzled nerves, until he forced himself to try to listen, to not drift off completely.
"...had enough of this screwing around. We should have some real fun with him. Cut him up limb by limb, see how long he lasts, demon or not..."
"How many times I gotta tell you, shithead! She wanted him in one piece, not scattered all over the place. Mess him up too bad, don't think she won't mess you up worse. You want that?"
"No, course not. Just gettin' bored. He don't scream any longer, and it's no goddamned fun if he don't scream."
A fresh, tearing pain lanced through his thigh; Zeke grimaced but the scream his tormentor wanted wouldn't come. He just didn't have the energy for it. He didn't open his eyes to see what had been done to him now, what new object one of his captors had decided to stab him with this time. They'd started with knives, always leaving them there, in his flesh, so the wounds couldn't heal. Then one of them had found a bucket of nails. Then they'd become more creative, using whatever scraps of metal or wood they found lying about in the abandoned warehouse they'd claimed as their hideout--and Zeke's prison.
He'd long since stopped trying to fight his way free. All he could do was try to find something to hold onto in his mind, something to keep him detached from the pain as his captors tormented him, testing just how much damage his demon body could take. Apparently their orders to keep him in "one piece" didn't specify what condition that piece was in.
"Just wish she'd get here already. Sick of waitin' around here, even with him to play with."
She.
Ezekiel was conscious enough to know who "she" had to be.
Ash.
From fragments of conversation, Ezekiel had determined that these five were her associates, fellow escapees from Hell whom she'd decided she could trust. These were the ones she intended to use in her plan for revenge against God, Christianity...the entire world if she had her way. Zeke knew little else about them, except for the one he had been chasing until his capture. That one was a Nazi scientist who had conducted horrific experiments on concentration camp prisoners. From the things he had "tested" on Ezekiel, it was clear that the psychopath hadn't lost his interest in exploring the limits of human physical endurance. One of the others was definitely very old, and very powerful. An ancient practitioner of the black arts, Zeke guessed. His touch burned like acid, strong enough to melt away even demon flesh. The burns healed, but each burn seemed to hurt worse than the last, and take longer to go away. Zeke could feel himself weakening with each passing second, minute, hour, and he had to wonder how much more abuse his body could actually take, demon or not. There had to be a limit. At least, he hoped there was. He didn't want to imagine the alternative.
The air was damp and cold against his bare skin, his clothes long since ripped or burned away. He shivered, sick at the thought that he would actually embrace the warm of the fires of Hell right now. He felt like such a fool, for not taking Ash out when he'd had the chance months before. Twice he'd let her go. He'd thought he had time to deal with her, that she still believe she could turn him to her side. Maybe he'd even hoped, stupidly, that he'd be able to turn her to his. Apparently he'd been wrong, and she'd decided the risk of leaving him free was too great, and had ordered her loyal demons to stop him.
Ezekiel had lost any hope for escape. At least two of them always stood nearby, watching, ready to inflict some new pain on him--to twist deeper one of the blades stuck in his body, or to find something new to do to him. Heavy steel manacles about his feet and upraised wrists restrained him to the wall, though he had long since lost any energy or ability to try to free himself. His body ached too much, and he was too tired. He only wanted it to be finished. If he could, he'd take out his own eyes, claw them out with his fingernails, anything to stop the pain. Not even the devil's tortures had been this cruel. In Hell, Zeke's suffering had mostly been of his own making--a prison of haunting memories, of Rosalyn's tears, his rage, his inability to comfort her and make her pain go away after her rape. He had been trapped in his guilt and anger and despair, but had never completely given up hope that someday he would find a way to free himself from it all...not like he had given up hope now.
He thought of his master and nearly cried out for the devil's mercy, but he knew that was a laugh, a wasted effort. Satan was the last being who would come to his rescue. No, the devil would merely welcome him back to Hell with a smirk and belittle him for failing in his job. He'd just find another, someone better to do his dirty work.
/Ezekiel, can you hear me?/
Zeke was jarred from his drifting thoughts by a familiar voice. He struggled to open his eyes and lift his head, but he couldn't see anyone other than his captors. Was Lucifer here, watching and enjoying his torture? Quite possibly, Ezekiel mused. Either that or Stone was beginning to hallucinate. Not that it mattered, he supposed. He dropped his head again, wincing as the slight movement sent another wave of pain through his abused body.
The voice returned, so close and clear it seemed to be coming from inside his head. /Close your eyes, Ezekiel, and no matter what you hear or feel keep them closed. Are you listening? Do you understand?/
Eyes closed. Right. He could do that. There was nothing he wanted to see in this miserable, cold place, for there was nothing here but the demons who would only torture him more should he catch their attention. He grunted in acknowledgement of the voice's instructions. Hallucination or not, he'd do as he was told.
Seconds barely passed before he heard a terrible crackling sound, like lightning striking ground within the room. A wave of heat stronger than anything he'd felt since his return to Earth seared his skin.
"What the--" he heard one of his captors start to shout, but then the man was drowned out by the shrieks and wailing sounds of his companions, and the screeching, roaring wind that grew up from out of nowhere. Ezekiel wondered what could possibly be happening but he dared not open his eyes to see, not as the screams grew louder, as the hot air seemed to turn to burning flames, licking his skin. The flames tried to get inside him, under his eyelids. They pulled at him, but he summoned the last reserves of his energy to keep his eyes closed, to do as the voice had told him. The screams of his captors began to dissolve away into the roaring wind, which gave one final plaintiff shriek and then...
Silence.
Utter and complete silence.
The air grew still and quickly cooled. Zeke's senses refocused and he picked up just one sound, that of someone nearby, breathing hard. Eventually even that sound softened, and a familiar if strained voice told him, "You may open your eyes now, Mr. Stone."
Cautiously, Ezekiel did as he was instructed. He saw the devil, standing in the middle of the room...and only him. The others were nowhere to be seen.
"What...happened..." Zeke croaked out. Immediately he wished he hadn't tried to speak as the effort set off another wave of incapacitating pain.
The devil walked over to him. "We'll have time for explanations later. Let me get you down first." Lucifer held the keys to the manacles in his hand, and he quickly went to work freeing Zeke's hands and feet. The restraints had been the only things holding him upright, and as soon as they were removed the detective tumbled to the floor. The fall twisted and drove the many blades and shards in his body deeper and he cried out in renewed agony, feeling as if he was being ripped apart from the inside out.
"Shit," he heard the devil curse. "Should have taken care of the bastards' work first. Lie still, Ezekiel. Let me do what I have to." The devil's voice was oddly soothing, as he carefully guided Zeke into a less painful position. Zeke blinked and looked up into familiar gray eyes, which for once looked upon him with what appeared to be honest concern.
"Are you...who I think you are?" Zeke managed to ask. This couldn't be the devil he knew, the one who always seemed to delight in tormenting him. Zeke wondered if instead this was the angel who had come to help him once, or another one of his brothers.
"Don't talk, Ezekiel. Just let me get this over with."
Zeke's questions dissolved quickly under the renewed pain as the devil--or whoever it was-- began tending to his injuries. Some of the implements imbedded in his flesh hurt a lot more coming out than he remembered them hurting going in. By the time the last blade was removed, Zeke was reduced to pleading for the pain to stop, his eyes damp and stinging from sulphurous tears he couldn't control. Too much pain, too much torture these past days, weeks, however long it had been.. "No more, please..." he was whimpering, hurting too much to feel humiliated by his begging.
"No more, Ezekiel. It's over..." Lucifer promised.
Zeke shivered. The floor was ice cold against his bare skin. "Cold..."
"Here." The devil shrugged off his long coat and, as carefully as he could, shifted Ezekiel around and helped him get into the garment. Zeke collapsed against his savior, too tired from the small movement to sit upright on his own.
"Feel so weak...still hurts."
"You'll get your strength back. You just need some time to heal." A warm hand soothed his brow, brushed through his damp hair gently. "It's over now, Ezekiel. All over."
Zeke wanted again to ask the devil what had happened, why he had saved him, why he was being so kind. But he was too tired now to speak. He felt warm in the coat, lying against Lucifer's body, warm and safe. His questions remained for the moment unanswered, as he felt himself losing consciousness, slipping away into the blissful darkness of much needed sleep.
* * *
Ezekiel awoke slowly, unwilling--as he often was--to let go of the pleasant state of unconsciousness and face the world outside. He blinked and flinched against the bright light that assaulted his eyes, pulling the covers over his head to block out the sun's rays for just a few more minutes. He stretched and winced as his body protested against the movement.
God, he felt terrible, sore all over. Groaning, he wondered what he possibly could have done the day before to feel so lousy, especially considering his normally resilient nature. Soon enough he remembered--and shuddered at the memories of days of imprisonment and torture as they came back to him. He wished he could dismiss it all as a nightmare, but he knew it had all been real and that his body was still healing from the abuse it had suffered.
Zeke remembered the devil, too, saving him from the demons, freeing him...and apparently getting him to his room at the hotel. He pulled back the covers, sleepiness fading away quickly as he tried to puzzle out how exactly he had gotten back here.
"It's about time."
Zeke glanced across the room and found the devil sitting in the chair, near the window. "You sleep like the dead, Detective," he added, lips quirking into a lopsided smile.
"Maybe that's because I am dead." Ezekiel sat up and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear away the last traces of his grogginess and work some life back into his aching limbs. "How'd I get back here...?" he wondered, his memories ending with his passing out not long after the devil had arrived to rescue him.
"With no little help from me. One of your charming hosts was kind enough to leave a stolen car behind. I drove you here, seeing how you certainly were in no shape to do it yourself. I doubted you would be happy to awaken back where I found you."
"Guess not." Zeke paused. He then noticed, much to his surprise, that he was fully dressed--back in his old worn-out clothes he thought had been destroyed during his imprisonment. For once he was thankful for the strange magic of his demon incarnation. Meeting every day with only thirty- six dollars in his pocket was a drag, but always having his old clothes to wear certainly had its advantages. Even his gun was there, waiting for him on the nightstand next to his bed. Everything was...back to normal. As normal as anything in his "life" was, at least.
Zeke pushed aside his dislike for the devil for a moment, and forced himself to utter two words he never thought he'd be saying to him: "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Ezekiel wondered what the devil's help was going to end up costing him. There had to be a catch. He took a better look at his inhuman visitor, and noticed that something seemed...wrong...about his appearance. His suit was wrinkled and dirty, and his shoulder-length hair was a mess. It was a far cry from his normal dapper, impeccable appearance, almost as if he'd been sitting in that chair all night, since dragging Ezekiel back here. But that didn't make any sense...of course, neither did the devil helping him out of a near second-death experience.
Zeke asked the question he had wanted to ask before. "Why did you do it?"
"I've been asking myself that same question all night. And I have decided it is because I am an utter fool, and there is no explanation beyond that." Lucifer paused, turning his gaze toward the open window before continuing, "I could have left you there, and they would have continued playing with you, destroying you bit by bit before eventually sending me what was left of your soul. Or leaving that for Ash to do herself, if she couldn't turn you to her side. Either way, I would have had to find someone else to finish your job.
"I could have done that. I should have, and yet, I didn't. Instead I broke the rules to save your sorry ass, so you'd better damn well be thankful about it."
Ezekiel got up from bed and walked over to the devil, finding his legs still shaky but strong enough to support his weight. Something was definitely wrong. Something didn't feel right about any of this. "You broke the rules...?"
"I used my powers to send those five back to Hell myself," Lucifer clarified.
Zeke frowned, growing more confused. "I thought you couldn't use your powers on Earth, that it wasn't possible. That's why you needed me."
"Oh, it's possible. Just against the rules," the devil corrected. "A violation of the natural order of things, something that takes a tremendous effort to accomplish and then...requires that a suitable price be paid to restore balance."
Lucifer paused, his eyes focused squarely on Ezekiel's now. And then the detective understood--he saw it clearly, as impossible as it was to believe. He had always been able to sense when the devil was nearby, for his aura of energy was completely unique and unmistakable to anyone who'd spent any time in Hell. But now, that aura was...
...Missing?
Gone. Completely. And Ezekiel could come up with only one explanation.
"You're...mortal?"
Lucifer smiled, thinly. "So it appears."
"For how long?"
The devil shook his head and laughed--though it was far from his usual cocky, irritating laughter. Now it had a distinctly nervous edge to it. "I have no idea. For all I know it could be a permanent affliction, punishment for my terribly egregious actions. This isn't exactly something I've done before, Ezekiel, nor something I ever had any desire to do. I can't say I'm the least bit pleased with the situation."
Zeke couldn't say he was either. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with a suddenly mortal devil, sitting in his hotel room and looking...well, rather disoriented, maybe even a touch desperate, and clearly exhausted. Dark circles shadowed Lucifer's normally bright eyes, which were now bloodshot and seeming to have serious difficulty staying open.
Not knowing what else to say--not really ready to deal with this situation yet, to be honest, Zeke suggested, "Maybe you should, uh, try to get some sleep. You look like you could use it..."
"Sleep," Lucifer repeated, pausing to contemplate the suggestion. "Yes, I suppose sleep might be in order. That is what mortals need in order to function, isn't it..." he trailed off, sinking back into the chair with a sigh.
"You...could try the bed. It's a lot more comfortable than that chair," Zeke offered, not believing he was inviting the devil to crash out in his room. In his bed!
Lucifer eyed the bed and answered, "You're probably right." He looked back at the detective. "I do appreciate the...hospitality, Ezekiel."
Zeke shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't suppose you have anywhere else to go..." With that he turned away and walked over to the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face, and steal a few minutes of privacy to try to get his bearings straight.
"This can't be happening," he said to himself, closing the door and leaning against it with a sigh. The devil was suddenly stuck in a mortal body, crashing out in his apartment...and five of Ash's "associates" had just been dispatched. Once she found her friends gone, it wouldn't take her long to guess that Zeke had to be responsible, not if she had been the one to instruct them to capture him in the first place.
And lest he forget, she knew where he lived.
Zeke went to the sink and ran the water. He waited for it to grow warm before splashing it over his face. He looked at himself as the water trickled down his cheeks, and frowned. He didn't look much better than his companion in the other room. He wanted a few days to relax and rest up, to get himself back in full working order again. But unless he wanted to risk facing Ash right now, he knew what he really should do was leave. Get out of Los Angeles, even, to be on the safe side. It was something he knew he'd have to do soon anyway. There were still more than seventy other demons on his "list", and they weren't all going to be hiding out in L.A. Zeke had filed aside news clippings about crimes all across the country that he suspected might be related to his quarry, but until now the devil had usually lead him from one demon to the next with his cryptic clues. As long as the devil was mortal, though, Zeke suspected he was going to have to rely more on his own instincts to get his job done...
For a moment, a darker thought crossed his mind. If the devil was mortal and had no power over him any longer, why should he bother still doing his dirty work? There was no one to stop him from joining the other "rogues" out there. No one, even, who would stop him if he just walked into the other room, put his gun to the devil's head and--
Zeke shook himself out of that line of thought as fast as it had come over him, and he felt a little sick inside that he'd contemplated the idea even for a second. He would not give in to the dark urges that sometimes crept into his mind--the sickening residue of fifteen years in Hell, surrounded by hateful and angry souls all trying to will him to submit, break, admit he was one of them. He wasn't. He'd only made one mistake, and he'd keep doing what he'd been sent back to Earth to do in order to redeem himself.
Besides, Zeke thought to himself, if the devil's mortality was only temporary, he'd probably do best not to piss his boss off right now. He'd surely end up having to pay for it later.
Zeke brushed his teeth, then fixed his hair and made himself remotely presentable to the outside world. He left the bathroom and checked on how his guest was doing. Lucifer had taken his advice and was sprawled out on the bed--fast asleep and snoring lightly, no less. Zeke figured he'd be out of it for at least a few hours, which gave him some time. He left a note saying he'd be back soon, grabbed his beaten-up coat and headed outside to take care of a few things.
Chapter Two
After he left the hotel, Zeke first stopped at his favorite nearby diner. He thought one of his obscenely greasy breakfast feasts would put him in a better mood, yet he found himself pushing a half-eaten omelet distractedly around his plate, for once unable to work up his usual appetite. He simply had too much on his mind to concentrate on the food, and it failed to provide him with any kind of comfort.
He didn't like the idea of having to leave Los Angeles, even if he was fairly certain it was necessary. He'd sworn to the devil he'd get Ash "next time", but he wasn't quite ready for that next time just yet. As much as he tried to put what had happened to him out of his mind, it was leaving him queasy, and shaking. He couldn't afford the shakes--not when dealing with any of Hell's escapees, and especially not with Ash.
But he had friends here in L.A., people who he could talk to and trust, who he hated to leave behind: Max, Farther Horn...
Rosalyn was here, too. He certainly never forgot that. He kept his distance from her these days, not wanting to put her in danger or risk her finding out about him. Still, simply knowing she wasn't far away was something that helped him get through each day.
Nevertheless, what had to be done, had to be done. He'd known he'd have to get out on the road to hunt the remaining demons some time; recent events were merely making that more of an immediate necessity. Particularly with Lucifer stuck in a mortal body--if Ash were to find the devil in this state, the detective doubted she would offer him anything close to Zeke's kindness.
Stone rested his chin on his hands and frowned. Why had the devil saved him in the first place? That still made no sense to him. His mind kept coming back to that one question, to which he hadn't really received a satisfactory answer. The devil had never done anything to help Zeke out of a tight spot before--why had he done it this time, if he'd known he'd face some form of retribution for his actions?
"He did it because he loves you, Ezekiel. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
Zeke blinked in surprise, both at the words he'd heard and at the man who had appeared out of nowhere to sit down across from him. Dressed in paint-stained white jeans and sweater, a handkerchief tied around his neck, the angel was unmistakable thanks to his attire and all-too- familiar visage. Zeke found it extremely disconcerting to see a gentle smile on that face, one that looked exactly like the devil's. It seemed...wholly unnatural and just plain wrong, somehow.
"What did you say?" Zeke asked, wanting to be certain he'd heard his companion's words correctly.
"He loves you," the angel repeated. "That's why he saved you. He felt your suffering and anguish and he couldn't let it continue, no matter what the consequences."
Zeke shook his head and started laughing. "That's crazy. He gets his kicks from suffering and anguish...why should it ever bother him?" He kept laughing as he thought about the possibility, and it struck him as nothing less than absurd. "No, I don't believe you."
"You have to believe me!" the angel insisted. "He's my brother. I know him. He tries to act as if he has no heart, Ezekiel, no ability to love, but that's not true. What other motive could there be for throwing away everything he had to stop your pain and save you, except for love?"
Zeke pondered that question for a minute as the waitress came over to refill his coffee and ask the angel what he wanted. "The Healthy Heart Special, please," he ordered with a pleasant smile.
The curly-haired Hispanic woman returned his smile and said, "Now that's something Zeke here never orders...about the only thing on the menu he avoids like the plague."
"My heart's the least of my worries," Zeke answered her, before she shrugged and walked off to the kitchen.
The former detective had to admit to himself that the angel's argument made some sense, if only because he couldn't think of a better explanation for what had happened. That didn't mean he believed it yet. "So, he loves me--if what you're saying is true. What I want to know is, how long is he going to be like this?"
"I can't say. Not that I can't say because I'm not allowed to...I can't say because I don't know. Honestly. I'm not one of the main guys-- the arch-angles, you know--they're the only ones privileged to all that information," the angel told him with an apologetic look. "I could try to ask around but I don't know if they'd tell me."
"Bureaucracy, even in Heaven?" Zeke asked.
"Oh, please!" The angel rolled his eyes, gave him a look of long-suffering. "The 'Big Wings'-- that's what we call them--they can have such an attitude sometimes! The stories I could tell you, Ezekiel... Almost enough to make one of us lowly old guardian angels feel like switching teams, every now and then," he finished in a conspiratorial whisper.
Zeke sat back and studied his companion. "Guardian angel. So, are you, like, my guardian angel?"
"You haven't figured that out until now?"
The detective shrugged. "You gotta admit, you didn't do a very good job of guarding me if I ended up in Hell." He immediately regretted his crack as he saw his companion's suddenly crestfallen expression. "Sorry."
"No, no, that's quite all right, Ezekiel. We try, you know, but we can't save everyone. And mortals have to be willing to listen, before they can hear us and let us help. That doesn't make it any easier when we lose someone, especially such a close call like you. That's why it's so important to me that you don't fail, now that you've got a second chance. We both have a second chance!" he enthused.
"The stakes are a little higher for me, though, aren't they?" Zeke observed.
The angel had no immediate answer beyond a sympathetic look. They fell silent until the waitress came back, bringing the angel his breakfast: low-fat yogurt and fruit salad, and a glass of orange juice. While he dove into his meal enthusiastically, Zeke sat thinking, still trying to wrap his brain around the concept that the devil loved him. "So you don't have any idea how long he's going to be stuck on Earth...a day, a month...forever?" Zeke tried asking again, even though it seemed as if his companion was not going to be able to answer him.
The angel shook his head, swallowed a spoonful of yogurt and said, "No, I'm sorry, I really don't. All I can say is we're never supposed to directly interfere with events taking place on Earth. It's the same rules whether it's just a guardian angel like myself, or someone like, well, him."
"Has it happened before? It must have, right?"
"Yes, but the punishment is always different. Determined by, you know..." The angel glanced upward. "I just don't know how He's going to judge this one."
Zeke sighed and, giving up on that line of questioning, moved on to more practical matters. "So what am I supposed to do with him? With this entire...situation."
"Well, for starters, I might suggest you consider a change of address. Those five were working with--"
"Ash, I know. I figured out that much. I think I'm getting a little too well-known in this area anyway. And I don't exactly feel up to dealing with her face-to-face again right now."
The angel nodded. "Wait until you're stronger. It would do you good to lay low for a while, find somewhere safer...particularly with my brother to protect."
Zeke raised an eyebrow at his companion. He'd rather suspected this was coming, but he still didn't like the idea. "So that's now officially part of my job description? To be the devil's keeper?"
"He needs someone right now, and you're the only one for the job, I'm afraid." The angel placed a hand lightly on Stone's arm, and fixed him with gently pleading eyes. "Fallen or not, he is my brother, Ezekiel. Look after him as a favor for me, if for no other reason. He doesn't even have your strength now, and if the escaped demons were to find him..."
"I get the idea..." Zeke cut him off. He hated this. He really hated this, but what was he going to say? "All right. I'll look after him-- if he lets me."
"Believe me, he wants your help--he just doesn't know how to ask for it. Yet." The angel smiled at him, pulled his hand away after a light squeeze. Zeke looked away as he reached for his cup of lukewarm coffee and by the time he turned back, his visitor was gone.
Zeke shook his head. Every time he thought he'd heard it all today, something new was dropped in his lap. The devil was mortal. The devil loved him. The devil needed his protection. That, and he still had seventy-eight demons to catch and send back to Hell...and speaking of Hell, who was running things there with the Prince of Darkness missing? Someone better be watching the gates, Zeke thought to himself, otherwise there could be a whole new flood of demons breaking free and running amok on Earth.
No, this was not good. Not good at all.
* * *
Zeke spent some time shopping after giving up on breakfast. He hit the stores to see what groceries and supplies he could get, mostly for his "guest", on the twenty-five dollars he had left for the day. Unlike Zeke, the mortal devil probably would need a fresh change of clothes or two. The former detective hoped Lucifer wouldn't mind having to make do with a selection of attire from the Salvation Army.
Max was on shift at the desk when he got back to the hotel late that afternoon. Her eyes went wide with surprise and she saw him enter. "Stone!" she shouted. "You're on your feet?! I'm amazed!"
"Hi, Max," he greeted her nonchalantly as she rushed over to him.
"Don't you just 'Hi Max' me! What happened to you? You go missin' for days, and then end up gettin' dragged back here by that friend of yours, lookin' way messed up and knocked out cold. I was gonna call for an ambulance..." she paused and frowned. "Somehow he convinced me not to. But still, damn, you gave me a scare!"
"Well, as you can see I'm fine now."
"'You're fine.' You ain't fine, Stone. No one has weirder shit happen to him than you." Her expression changed and with a grin she added, "But that's okay, you keep life interestin' around here. I don't know what we'd do for entertainment without you."
"Yeah, ah, about that..." Zeke began, putting his shopping bags down on the front desk for a moment. "I'm sorry, Max, but I'm moving out. Probably by tonight."
"What?!" Max's grin disappeared quickly. "You're leaving?!"
"I have to. I need to take care of some business out of town. I'm not sure how long it's going to take me."
"You're in some kind of serious trouble, aren't you?" she asked, looking genuinely worried now.
Zeke put a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. "Nothing I can't handle," he said, hoping that was really the case.
"Dammit, Stone, this sucks. I'm gonna miss you." She grabbed him for hug that would have knocked the wind out of him, if that had been possible.
"I'll miss you, too, Max. But I'll be back sometime," he promised, and he meant it. As long as Rosalyn was still in Los Angeles, he'd be back. However long it would take, he'd come back for her.
As long as one of the other demons didn't send him back to Hell first.
Chapter Three
Zeke unlocked and opened the door to his room, trying to be quiet as he did so in case his guest hadn't woken up yet. A quick glance toward the bed confirmed Lucifer was still there, and still asleep.
The sight was enough to give Ezekiel a bad case of the creeps. "Too damn weird," he muttered to himself. That wasn't just anyone sleeping in his bed--that was the devil. Except the devil wasn't really "the devil" any longer, was he? He was nothing more than another mortal human being...
And all because he loves me? Zeke thought, frowning as he tried to give the rather unbelievable idea more consideration.
He put down his bag of food, walked toward the bed and looked over the sleeping man more closely. With his thin build and drawn features, Lucifer didn't look very intimidating--at least not now while he lay asleep, stripped of his inhuman powers. It had to be pretty traumatic, Zeke supposed, to go from being one of the most powerful entities in all of Creation to just another human mortal. For a moment Zeke actually felt sorry for the devil--but then he vividly remembered the sneering delight Lucifer took in others' suffering and his sympathy evaporated quickly. Maybe a little dose of mortality might do the devil some good, give him a different perspective on the souls he played with as if they were nothing more than his toys.
Stone remembered, not that long ago, accusing Lucifer of having loved Ash. The devil had denied it, but only after a too-long pause that had left Zeke wondering if maybe he hadn't been on target with his suspicions. If so, that meant the devil did know how to feel love...
Still, Zeke wasn't sure he liked the idea of being the object of Satan's affection. Besides giving the detective a bad case of the creeps, that would just add a whole new layer of complication to his life--or death, to be more accurate--that he really didn't need right now.
Zeke walked back to the kitchen to sort through the groceries and other items he'd bought during his shopping excursion. He opened the refrigerator to grab a beer for himself, then closed the door, apparently a little too loudly. He heard a gasp and turned to see the devil wide awake, sitting up on bed and looking extremely disoriented.
"Didn't mean to startle you," Zeke apologized.
"What? Oh... No, I'm glad you did. That was entirely too unsettling," the devil remarked, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face.
"What was?"
"Sleeping. I've never done that before. I don't like it, being completely oblivious to what could be going on all around you."
"You'll get used to it." Beer in hand, Zeke brought over the food he'd bought for his guest--a Whopper and large fries. "I thought you might be hungry."
Lucifer took the bag and eyed the contents warily. "I suppose I am. You know, it's curious, how these unpleasant physical conditions are so different when experienced firsthand-- exhaustion, for one. Hunger. Thirst." He paused and frowned. "The most pressing need to...urinate?"
"That way." Zeke pointed toward the bathroom.
The detective sat down in the chair by the window and waited while the devil...relieved himself in the small bathroom. Lucifer reappeared several minutes later with a thoroughly disgusted look on his face. He looked at his food and mused, "I'm don't think I'm hungry any longer."
Zeke had to suppress a grin. "You know," he observed, "maybe this is something that should have happened to you a long time ago--get a taste of what life's like for us 'mere mortals'. Might be just the thing to humble that big fat ego of yours."
"Spare me your amateur psychological analysis, Mr. Stone. I'm not in the mood for it." The devil eyed the bag of food again. Soon enough hunger won out over disgust, and he started in on the greasy fries.
After giving him a few minutes' peace to eat, Zeke began casually, "I ran into one of your brothers down at the coffeeshop." At Lucifer's raised eyebrows he elaborated, "You know, looks like you, except he dresses in white and is actually nice to me..."
"Yes, yes, I know who you mean. What did he have to say?"
Zeke wasn't ready to talk about everything the angel had said yet, so he skipped ahead to the most immediately important point of discussion. "He said Los Angeles might not be the best place for either of us right now. Which is the same thing I've been thinking since this morning." Zeke paused to take a sip of his beer. "Those five who had me were working with Ash, and I don't want to be around when she finds they've been summarily dispatched back to Hell. Especially when I'm stuck with you here to keep an eye on."
"I think I can take care of myself, thank you," the devil remarked sharply.
"Can you?" Zeke countered. "Then why are you hanging around here? I think it's because you don't know a damn thing about surviving without your powers, and you know you need me to protect you."
"Couldn't it be that I simply delight in your charming company?"
"I don't know, could it?"
Lucifer seemed momentarily flustered by Stone's question, but then he shrugged it off. "All right. I...suppose I could use your help, Ezekiel," he admitted, not looking happy at all to have to say as much.
"Isn't that always the case..." Zeke muttered.
Under the devil's glare he fell silent. Lucifer continued, "This mortality business is rather confusing, and I could use the assistance of someone with more experience in the matter."
"Considering you got yourself in this situation because of me, I suppose I owe you that much."
"Yes, you do. And more, but we can account for that later. And believe me, we will." The devil scrunched up the paper bag with the remnants of his meal and tossed it toward the trashcan. He missed. With a frown, he said, "A relocation, did you suggest?" Zeke nodded. "Indeed. I think that might not be the worst idea..."
* * *
Several hours stuck on the highway with the devil as his only companion, and Ezekiel beginning to wonder if being sent back to Hell wouldn't have been better than his current fate. A few minutes of Satan's "company" every two or three days had always been more than sufficient. If the devil loved him, he certainly had an incredibly annoying way of showing it.
"It must be difficult for you to leave Los Angeles, Ezekiel, after traveling all the way across the country just to be near your widow, Rosalyn."
"It's what I have to do."
"Yes. But it isn't easy, is it? Leaving behind the woman you love like that..." The devil sighed wistfully. "Perhaps it's for the best-- after all, she finally seemed to be getting over you. Fifteen years...I should think it's about time for her to start dating again, don't you, detective? Way past time, if you ask me."
"I didn't."
"Though hopefully next time she'll have better taste than to pick a shape-shifting pagan priestess for a boyfriend..."
"Can we not talk about Rosalyn?"
"I'm merely making conversation."
"I'd prefer it if you didn't," Zeke said.
"Well pardon me for trying to be sociable."
"Your idea of being sociable seems to consist of nothing but finding ways to irritate me."
"Force of habit. So what would like to talk about then, Ezekiel? I'm open to suggestions."
Zeke gritted his teeth. He had no desire to talk about anything with the devil, quite honestly. He settled on a matter of practical interest. "Okay, how about we discuss how I'm going to cover both of our living expenses on thirty-six dollars and twenty-seven cents a day? It's been hard enough taking care of myself on that kind of budget."
"It's not as if you actually have living expenses. You're dead, remember? I'm the only one of us who is living."
"Don't temp me to even the score," Zeke threatened. "Living or not, we'll need to find somewhere to stay, and that takes money."
"You're resourceful. I'm sure you'll figure out something."
"You could always get a job, that would bring in some more money."
"Excuse me?!" the devil choked.
Ezekiel shrugged. "If I'm going to be stuck with you hanging around, you might as well make yourself useful."
Zeke glanced over at the devil and caught him scowling in disgust. "A job. I don't think so. I'm suffering enough indignity as it is right now."
"Not my fault," Zeke reminded him. "You're the one who decided to do something nice for me, for once."
"And yes, look where it got me. Don't think I'll be making that mistake again."
With that Lucifer settled in to a sulky silence, much to Ezekiel's relief. It had been a while since he'd been behind the wheel of a car and navigating the California highways with the devil irritating him all the way was not turning into a fun experience.
They were headed north to San Francisco, in the car Lucifer had "acquired" the night he'd rescued Zeke from the five demons. The detective had chosen that city based on recent news reports of several gruesome murders, all of priests in the Bay Area. Something about the crimes had set him off, led him to think one of his remaining quarry was likely responsible. When he'd suggested as much to the devil, he'd gotten no clear confirmation of his suspicions- -but no denial of them either. It was as good a lead as any he had at the moment, and it would take him far enough away from LA to hopefully keep Ash out of his hair.
Zeke had thought he should tell Father Horn where he was headed, though he also feared bringing the man too deep into his business. The blind priest had already helped Zeke out of a few tight spots; Zeke didn't want to risk Horn's life by leaving too much of a trail to connect them. But he'd miss having someone to confide in, someone who knew who he was and why he was here. When he got settled in somewhere, Zeke decided, he'd give the priest a call, let him know he was all right. Whether he'd tell the priest he'd suddenly become the devil's guardian on Earth...well, perhaps that was one detail he'd leave out for now.
After close to an hour of blissful silence, Lucifer felt the need to announce, "I'm not enjoying this at all, you know."
"What?"
"Being mortal, of course. Less than a day and I'm sick of it."
Less than a day and I'm sick of you, Zeke thought, but he bit his tongue before letting the words slip out.
"I don't suppose my dear brother had anything to say about how long I'm going to be stuck like this."
"He said he didn't have a clue."
"He never did, that idiot." The devil sighed, and fell silent for a while again. "It's all so very...quiet. Isolated. Not knowing what you're thinking...what anyone is thinking...it's very disconcerting."
"Maybe to you, but I'm rather happy to keep my thoughts to myself."
"Of course you are. No one likes the idea of having their deepest, darkest secrets exposed...but that's what makes it so much fun! The key to temptation lies in offering someone what they never thought they could have, what they'd never dream of asking for...like you, thinking you could have your life back with Rosalyn again. Look at where it's lead you."
"You really are sick."
"Why thank you, Ezekiel. I try, you know."
Zeke shook his head. The devil's constant company was definitely a new form of torment he did not need. He turned on the radio and hoped his companion would take the hint and just shut up for the rest of the drive. Zeke found a classic rock station and turned up the volume as one of his favorite Pink Floyd songs came on. As he listened, he found the lyrics taking on a whole new meaning to him since the last time he'd heard the tune, over fifteen years ago...
So...so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell
Blue skies from pain
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail
A smile from a veil
Do you think you can tell?
Ros had always liked this song, too, he remembered...she'd never quite managed to get into the old blues he'd had liked so much, but Floyd was one band she'd loved almost as much as he did. He wondered if she still ever listened to their old records, thought of him the way this song made him think of her...
How I wish
How I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls
Swimmin' in a fishbowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears...
Wish you were here.
"Do you have to listen to this noise?" the devil groused, pulling Zeke out of his memories.
"Just shut up or I'm gonna put the radio on a Christian music station instead," Zeke growled at him.
Lucifer fell silent and didn't say another word for the rest of the trip.
Go on to Part 4...
