Gotta Have Faith

He woke up tied to a small bed in a mostly dark room, with a woman sitting cross-legged on his stomach. She wasn’t very big, average height and lean, but the weight made it hard for him to breathe. Something he shouldn’t even have to worry about. His arms pulled against his bindings, but the ropes just rubbed his wrists raw and refused to come loose. Even his legs were tied down and wouldn’t come free, and there was the woman. Her brown eyes just continued to stare down at him as he struggled, and he thought he saw her lips twitch once or twice. He couldn’t tell if it was in laughter or disgust, not that it matters. As soon as he’s free, she’s dying. The room he was in had cement walls and floors, was covered in protective sigils, and is stocked full of weapons. There’s a nice axe on the wall that he wouldn’t mind burying into the strange woman’s skull.

“Finally give out?” Her voice was rough and plucked at a memory that was lost in the darkness eons ago.

“Let me go now and I just might give you a quick death.” His voice was slow and quiet, a promise. The woman laughed, even threw her head back, before clapping her hands against her knees.

“No, you wouldn’t. You’d draw it out. Make me really suffer, right?” The light blue dress she was wearing had lace going around the bottom, and the white material brushed against the tops of her knees. He already hates her.

“I will get free, and you will die.” She arched an eyebrow at him and then poked the center of his chest.

“Listen, Lu, we’ve gotta go over the ground rules. You don’t think you’re here by mistake, are you? Of all the angels that had their wings burned away and were slammed to the Earth, you’re the only one that’s here. You’re the only one that’s human.” Human? No, that’s not possible. He’s an angel. They can lock him in Hell for another two thousand years, and he’ll still be an angel when he’s freed.

“I am not—”

“See this?” There was a silver chain around her neck, and she slowly pulled a pendant out from under her dress. At the end of the long chain was a cylindrical piece of metal, looked like iron, and she swung it from side to side a bit.

“So?” He doesn’t have time to play games with some idiotic human. Once his grace returns, he’ll get free. He’ll kill the woman, very slowly, and then go see what’s happened.

“This, my new devilish friend, is your grace. I pulled it out myself after I got you unconscious and stuffed it in here. Don’t give me that look, because I already know what you’re thinking. You’ll just kill me and take your grace back, but that’s a bad plan. The necklace and this little container have been blood spelled, to my soul. You kill me, this grace goes straight with me to Heaven where you’ll never be able to get it. Don’t worry, there’s an upside.”

“An upside.” He’s not asking. He’s trying to contain the rage that’s darkening his sight and causing him to push against the ropes again. Blood is making the rough material slick, but the woman hasn’t batted an eye. She stole, his grace?! No, he won’t kill her. He’ll keep her alive and make her suffer for an eternity for what she’s done to him.

“Stay here with me and be tested. If you pass the tests, you’ll get your grace back.”

“What tests?” The woman’s toes dug down next to his ribs as she shrugged, and he hissed out a snarl at the dull pressure.

“I don’t know yet. My job was to find you, de-angel you, and bind you. Not just with ropes either. If you try to wander too far away from me, you’ll be in so much pain that you won’t even be able to crawl. Me? I’ll just feel a little tickle.” She smiled at him, wide enough to show shallow dimples in her tanned cheeks, and he moved up far enough to arch his back and snap his teeth in her face. Who does this woman think she is?

“The name’s Betty.” That’s what the woman said, before he passed out. Betty…Betty…Betty…why does he know that name? He spent so many years down in the Cage that some of his knowledge has been lost, but he knows that name. It…tickles.

“Betty Fay. Elizabeth Faith Hogan. God’s Favorite Assassin.” Her eyes narrowed down at him as she slipped the container holding his grace back under her dress, and he watched her dirty fingernails dance across the bare skin of her legs.

“Is that what I’m known as? I didn’t know I was the favorite, but it’s got a nice ring to it. I guess the darkness didn’t take everything from you.” She kept looking into his eyes. No one could hold his stare for very long, but she wouldn’t look away. This woman isn’t afraid of him.

“I’ve seen the things you’ve done, little Betty.” He glanced down at her scratched hands and thought of all the people she’s killed. So many faces. “How did you get all the blood off?”

“Bleach, mostly. If I let you go, are you going to play nice?” His lips twisted in a smile, and she pressed her palms flat against his chest. He held in his grunt as she pushed herself up so that she was standing next to the bed, and his eyes followed her movements as she untied his feet. He kept his stare locked on the ceiling as she tugged at the bloody ropes above his head, and he took in a slow breath once the ropes fell away.

“Thank you.” The woman took a step back from the bed as he rose into a sitting position, and he raised his eyes to hers. She’s still just watching him, in curiosity instead of fear.

“Anytime. I made hamburgers if you’re hungry.” She turned away to start for some stairs, and he lunged off the bed. His hands were reaching for the back of her neck, left vulnerable when she piled her hair on top of her head, but she ducked down and twisted around before he could grab her. The heel of her hand pushed against his stomach, pushed him back, and a single sweep knocked his legs out from under him. The world tilted and spun, and it took him a moment to right himself.

Her thighs were clamped tight around his hips, strong legs were pinning his, knees ground his hands against the cement floor, and hands were locked around his throat. Her face filled his vision; she was so close that he could see the lighter brown flecks in her eyes and the small dusting of freckles across her nose. She smelled like grass, flowers, and a million other things he didn’t understand. Her body was completely still as she held him immobilized, and he let himself go slack in her hold. He wasn’t going to be able to kill her today. He’ll have to wait, gather his strength, and come up with a plan. He now knows how fast she is, how strong she is, and how good her weak instincts are.

“I can see that devious brain of yours churning behind those stolen blue eyes, and I know what you’re thinking. You’re wrong, Lucifer. I’m faster, stronger, and you have no idea about how good my human instincts are. Kill me, lose your grace, see if I care. Look into my eyes. Really look. Are you looking?”

“Yes.” He’s never wanted to kill anyone more than he wants to kill this human woman. He wants to sink his teeth into her still bleeding heart and listen to her scream her last breath. Her eyes are brown…and there’s nothing in them. No warmth. No hatred. Nothing.

“I have been counting the days to my death. I’ve been waiting for it since I first saw it when I was six. You can’t scare me, Lucifer, because I’m ready to die. Are you?”

“Not as a human.” She leaned up and let go of his throat, and her knees pushed against the bones in his hands.

“That’s the spirit. We’re both stuck in a situation that we hate, so let’s just suffer through it with as little bloodshed as possible. Pass all of your Daddy’s tests and get your grace back. I won’t even fight when you kill me afterwards.” She easily moved to her feet and held her hand out, and he let his skin brush against hers. With her strength, it was easy to pull him off the floor. She still had to tilt her head back to look at him.

“I’m going to eat your heart,” he said without ever looking away from her.

“I’ve heard it’s one of the easier organs to eat. Not as chewy as some of the others,” she said without even blinking.

“Dinner?”

“Right this way.”


Honestly, she’s surprised. After she told the devil everything she’d done and then let him free, she expected him to fight tooth and nail to put her down. She’s still a little weak from all the witchcraft she cooked up just to keep the archangel both contained and restrained. (Blood spells for containing grace and binding magic to physically keep them together? It’s a miracle that she didn’t die in the process.) He only came after her once, quietly followed her up the basement stairs to the kitchen, and sat down at the kitchen table like a little gentleman. Well, a six-one gentleman. His shoulders hunched down once he was sitting, like he was trying to make himself look smaller and non-threatening. How stupid does he think she is? If she relaxes just a fraction, he’ll smash her face into the grease that she’s using to fry up some potato slices. Can’t have burgers without home fries and can’t have the devil in the house without death threats. Or thoughts in his case. Has he already forgotten that she’s psychic?

“So, the gang is back together and no one’s dead. Not anymore,” Betty finished. She dropped his plate, gently, in front of him and moved back to the counter to grab her own plate. She’s barely taken a breath between getting him caught up on all the current events. It’s what she’s supposed to do. At least, that’s what the voices are telling her. To tell him all about what the Winchesters have been up to since he was tossed back into the Cage. That means she’s also been talking about Michael, and Castiel, and Gabriel, and the little hunter Emma Motley. Then there’s Elijah and Abaddon, who teamed up with Raphael. The once thought peaceful archangel located Metatron, God’s Scribe, to confine the angels to the Earth. Eve told him how to get into Purgatory, and now her “children” are running free. So is Simon. So many lives to cover before she can eat.

“They tortured Sam?” Betty’s plate was across from Lucifer’s, and she set down two glasses of sweet tea. She’s gotten a taste for the stuff over the years.

“You mean Abaddon? Yeah, for over two hundred years. His brother and all the others think it was only a week. Sam’s tough, but he won’t be able to hide that forever.” The devil’s knuckles were white against his glass, and Betty hoped that he wouldn’t break it. She’s not in the mood to clean up broken glass, or to stitch up a very human archangel.

“She’ll pay for that. Once I’m free.” The glass was set back down on the table, and Betty picked up her burger. It smelled delicious, fresh, but she’s got a question to ask first. She doesn’t have the answers to everything, after all.

“I thought you’d be happy. She did it for you, you know. To get Sam ready to say yes.”

“I never wanted Sam tortured.”

“Not physically. Mentally? That kid’s still messed up.” She finally took a big bite and completely ignored Lucifer’s murderous look. She’s got a feeling that she’ll be seeing a lot of that particular look, so she’s just gonna ignore it and focus on the good things. Like her burger.

“I did what I had to.” Since her mouth was stuffed full, Betty rolled her eyes. Lucifer’s hot glare turned icy, and she locked eyes with him as she slowly chewed. She’s gonna show the devil that she’s not afraid of him. Never has been and never will be. After several long moments of her chewing, she swallowed and used a napkin to dab at her lips.

“You did what you wanted to. You wanted to take your vessel, by any means necessary, and you wanted to destroy him while you destroyed Michael. You can’t lie to me, Luci.”

“My name is—”

“Lucifer, the archangel, the Morningstar. The Bringer of Light and Evil. Father of Demons and Sin. Want me to keep going?” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on either side of his plate, and his lips smiled while his eyes tried to cut through her.

“I don’t think I’ll kill you. I’ll keep you as a pet and let your death take years.” She leaned towards him but kept her elbows tucked to her sides.

“No, you won’t. Now get your elbows off my table, it’s bad manners. Didn’t your mama teach you anything?”


Abaddon tortured Sam Winchester. (She may have claimed it was for him, but she will still suffer for daring to touch his vessel’s soul.)

Dean allowed himself to be Michael’s vessel. (It was so save his precious little brother, but it could be a first step to trusting his big brother.)

Gabriel has been freed from Hell. (He was locked inside of a soul and tortured for two hundred years, because Lucifer killed him.)

All of the angels have fallen and Purgatory was opened. (Raphael, the brother who always refused to fight, has unleashed hell on earth.)

“Still alive in there?” A finger flicked the end of his nose, and he caught a thin wrist before it could fully pull away. Dead brown eyes looked up at him as she smiled, and he noticed the suds still clinging to her fingertips. He’s going to enjoy killing her like he hasn’t enjoyed a death in centuries.

“I want to sleep.” Arched brow, pursed lips, wet hands. He let the psychic go and smiled as she continued to stare at him. After a moment, she shrugged and moved out of the kitchen. He followed her into the living room, which showed an open floor plan and easy visibility of the entire house. There was a small wooden staircase, more of a ladder, leading to a small loft bedroom with a bathroom. There was a large wall at the far end of the living room, which created a small hallway. He followed the woman down the short hallway and through an open doorway, and he took a moment to look around.

The room, which was clearly a bedroom, was mostly empty. There was a single bed, with blue sheets, and a small nightstand. There was a closet and a bathroom, but something big was missing. He turned to look for the psychic, and she was leaning against the doorway. Bare legs were crossed at the ankles, and she was idly running her fingers over the length of chain resting against her collarbone. He wants to feel the warm splash of her blood against his face and pick her skin out of his teeth. She pushed off with her shoulder to stand up straight and held her arms out.

“What do you think?”

“There are no doors.” He could see clothes in the closet that looked to be his vessel’s size, because there was no door on the closet. There was no door leading to the bathroom, and there was no door to separate the bedroom from prying eyes. Everything was completely open.

“Well, would you look at that? Goodnight, Luci.” He watched the way that her dress swayed as she left the room and felt his hands tighten into fists at his side. His vessel needs to be cleaned and then he needs to sleep. He’ll find a way to remove his grace and kill Elizabeth Faith Hogan in the morning.