Just an idea, that, if there was anyone who would know what it took to return an angels wings and restore heaven, it would be the one who was created to Lead Heaven.

"Brother... I know the last time we saw each other, we didn't exactly part on the best of terms...", he picked at the chipping metal, scratching a finger down a bar, eyes downcast, not daring look up at the dark figure in the opposing corner, "And I know I have no right to ask you for help..."

"You are right.", The other shifts their position, and the dark mass moves, shifting forward, "You have no right to ask me for anything. Not after what you have done.", he flinches under the harsh tone, and curls away from the other as they draw closer to the bars, a hand reaches out for him and he scoots back too late, "But you will always be my little brother, no matter what you may do to me, and I will always be there."

He sighs contentedly as a hand cups his cheek, fingers curling around the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing of cheek bone.

"Tell me what you need."

"Michael I need you.", he loath to admit it, "I have no idea what I'm doing."

Michael pats his cheek lightly, "Hush, you are an archangel, it is in your grace. You were created to lead."

"No I wasn't. You were. I was created...I was created to be the bad guy."

He shakes his head, "Lucifer, do not think so lowly of yourself." "You did." "And that is my mistake that I will live with for the rest of my immortal life. You were not created to be the bad guy, as you so put it. You were created to spread Father's light. His love."

Lucifer falls silent as the elder speaks, hanging onto every word, and he shook his head slightly. There was no other reason for the things that had happened to have happened, but for Dad to have His bad guy that He could defeat, making Him the immortal hero.

"Lucifer.", the stern tone pulled him from his thoughts, "Focus little brother. You came here for a reason. What do you need?"

The younger archangel reached for the hand cupping his cheek, and it twisted, catching his just as quick, and the warm pad of the thumb rubbed over his knuckles. They asked so much of him, and though he shouldn't have said he could do it, it was now time to deliver. Anael had really gotten to him. She was right. He was not his Father. At least his Father knew what He was doing.

He was a broken Archangel.

Perhaps better left forgotten.

"They want their wings back."

"What happened to their wings?"

Lucifer shook his head, a story for another time, and looked up at his older brother imploringly.

"I don't know how to grant an angel their wings back, but I know you do.. Michael...I don't know what I'm doing. Not with Heaven. Not with my son." "Your son?" "One thing at a time big brother."

...

They followed him silently as he made his way to the Garden, he hadn't been in that place since before his fall, long before his fall. Part of him was scared that it was changed. This was his childhood home, where he and his brother's had played as fledgling, where the little ones stayed until old enough to be on their own. Where Father used to sit among them, and they'd play and listen to stories, where it had all began.

Duma on his left, Anael on his right, both doubting he knew what he was doing.

'You are not Father, Lucifer.'

He reached for the mighty gate with both hands, pressing his palms to the cool metal, it was warm under his touch.

'They do not need another Father. They need a brother. Someone to stand on their side.'

The pull of the garden was intoxicating, it was pulling him in, calling to him. This was his home, where all his favorite memories took place. This was where he grew up. Where his life began, and where his life had ended, the garden was everything.

'Take them to the Garden. The garden is where it all begins.'

He pushes the gate open, and it swings around, slowly, revealing the inner sanctum to them. A warm breeze wafts out, and he closes his eyes as it seemingly caresses his cheeks, the garden is warm, the garden is lush.

Just as he remembers it being.

'At the center is the tree. Take them to the center. An angels wings are a manifestation of their grace. If their grace is strong enough their wings will return.'

They march into the garden, through the soft grass, and the bright plants. He can see Joshua among the plants, the Gardener smiles at him, his old aged eyes twinkling in understanding. Lucifer feels at peace for the first time in forever, this is his home, so many happy memories are in this place. He can hear laughter to the right, and he sees the image play, like an old time movie, a fledgling with golden wings running among the flowers and behind him comes deep laughter, from an older angel.

By that tree there he sees an older angel, with pale blue wings, resting back against the trunk, a pale foot dangles in front of him. Something is said, no sound to this movie, and the other's hand shoots up like a snake, yanking on the ankle in front of him.

'At the center of the Garden is the Tree, always bearing fruit, have them eat a piece of the fruit. No more then a piece.'

Joshua nods towards the center and disappears in the color fauna. Lucifer steps on, leading them passed extinct trees and giant flowers, to the center. It stands tall as ever, towering over him, them, full of ripe rounded fruit.

A low hanging branch, like an offering, holds just one and he reaches for it. The fruit sits in his palm completely, large and rounded, warm agaisnt his cool palm.

He tears a piece off and holds it out for his friend, the one who talked this sense into him, Anael eyes it carefully, cautiously, and she takes it. Their fingers brush slightly, and she takes the piece in hand, sticking it softly on her tongue, its sweet and tangy. She bites into it and feels a burst of power shoot through her.

'Do not be Father, Lucifer, you are not Him. Be yourself. Be the Morningstar.'

She wavers at the burst, overwhelmed from the feeling, and he reaches for her when she waivers. His hands are warm when they curl around her upper arms, gentle, so much more gentle then they had been when the fingers had curled around her throat.

This was different.

"Easy, easy.", he steadied her gently, holding her up when her legs seemed to give out, "How do you feel?"

Her breath has been taken, as she feels the agony from her shoulders, her wings growing back, the feathers filling in the bald spots, an angel once again in all meanings of the word. She leans into his touch, letting him hold her up as she catches her bearings, and Lucifer takes her weight willingly.

But he gazes over her shoulder, at the gathered angels, the ones that remained, "Every one, take a piece, only a piece, and take it easy until the feeling passes."

Anael leans into his shoulder as the feeling slowly starts to pass, listening to the rumble of his voice deep within his chest as he addresses the others, and they stand there as they slowly make their way to the tree, taking the fruits, a piece as instructed, and Lucifer looks down at her silently.

"How do you feel?", theres a hint of worry in his tone, and she wavers as he pulls her back only slightly, her hands resting gently against his chest as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it, "Are you okay?"

Slowly she nods, "That has a kick to it.", he chuckles softly, a deep rumbling sound, and she leans into him again. How he learned of this, they don't know, but when their wings curl around them, full of plummage and color, they don't question it.