Let the Fire Catch Until I’m Back to Ash

When Tony opened his eyes, he first noticed it was cold and bright, very different from the warmth and darkness he had experienced before. He was standing, and the pain in his chest was gone, as was the fire in every nerve of his body. Everything seemed oddly… peaceful. He felt lighter, better than he had in years. But still, something was off. First of all, where was he? Certainly not CTU. Everything around him was light grey and silent. He couldn't tell where the ground met the walls or where the walls met the sky. He was also alone. So, there was nobody to ask, and calling out to nothingness felt strange. Tony tried to think harder about what he remembered before waking up here. He could remember Jack looking upset.

"Stay with me… stay with me…"

Was he… dead? 

If he was in hell, it certainly lacked the fire and brimstone he had been told his whole life to expect. And, well, if he was in heaven, it didn't seem very pleasant, either. Either way, someone should be around here, right? Maybe this was more complicated than he thought.

"Will someone tell me what the hell?-" Tony asked, hearing his voice echo.

"Ah, not quite," someone corrected, and he whipped his head around to see a tall man in a suit walking through a door he could swear wasn't there before. "It's been a while since we had a straggler."

Tony instinctively reached for his gun, fearful of both this man and the miserable, ash-coated cerulean landscape through the doorway behind him, but his pockets were empty.

"Who… who are you?"

"Take a guess."

God wouldn't be wearing an Armani suit. Shit. He shouldn't be surprised, but it didn't stop that paralysing sense of fear from hitting him square in the chest, a hot, nauseating feeling rising in his throat. All he could hear was his heartbeat.

The man — well, angel — must have sensed his fear because he held his hands up defensively. "I can assure you, whatever you've been told about me isn't true. Anyway, that's not the point. We're not here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you."

"What do you want from me? My soul?"

Lucifer looked at Tony like he was crazy. "I don't want your soul. I have no use for your soul."

"Then what do you want?"

"For you to make up your mind so I can get back to doing my job."

His apparent nonchalance was starting to piss him off, and he did not want to show a shred of weakness in front of him. "What? Torturing people?"

"Awfully judgemental coming from you, Agent Almeida."

"H-How do you know who I am?"

He rolled his eyes. "I rule hell. It would be a little tricky to do that without keeping good records of who comes in and who goes out, although my sister's spreadsheet helps-"

"W-Why am I here?" Tony interrupted.

He furrowed his brow.

"What specifically put me in hell?" Tony swallowed the lump in his throat, utterly terrified of what awaited him. "Was it because of work? Was it because of how I treated people? Was it because I didn't go to church? Tell me, what it was that I did that made me such a bad person?"

Lucifer looked him up and down. "Were you raised Catholic by any chance?"

"Yeah… why?"

He scoffed. "Well, that explains a lot. What is it with you people and guilt?"

Tony was at a loss for words, unsure whether to interpret his apparent penchant for jokes and sarcasm as good or bad.

"Right, I should probably explain this to you. We haven't got much time, after all." He sighed, clasping his hands together. "You're not… quite dead yet. Which means you get to choose where you go." Lucifer pointed behind him. "Behind the first door, hell." He then pointed in front of him, behind where he stood. "Behind the second, Earth. And, to answer your question, the only reason you're going to hell is your own guilt. Believe it or not, most people go to hell, except for children."

Well, that was bleak. 

"Not to worry, though. With any luck, your stay in hell will be temporary."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked warily.

"If you can absolve your guilt, find a way to forgive yourself for whatever haunts you, then you get to go to heaven," Lucifer explained. "I must say, it won't be easy. But it's certainly not impossible."

No matter how he framed it, it sounded like a heavy task. He didn't think he had the strength to achieve it. He could barely get over his guilt complex when it was a part of his mind, so to see it manifested in front of him would be impossible. He would spend eternity down here, undoubtedly.

"You're asking me to choose between hell and a second chance at life?" 

"No, I'm asking you to make a detour on your way to heaven or to go back to that depressing place you call Earth."

The more Tony thought about all the things his mind could conjure to torture him, the less assured he felt. It wasn't just that, though. This sounded… too easy, too different from what he had been taught to believe about hell. The devil was known for lying and tricking people, wasn't he? This was an elaborate ruse, a false hope to get him to cross over.

"I don't believe you," Tony said, trying to sound defiant. "You're lying to me-"

Before he knew it, Lucifer's hand was wrapped around his throat, talons digging into the delicate flesh. His face flickered between a seemingly human disguise and what Tony could only surmise was his real form, with eyes the colour of fire. "I am not a liar," he growled. "You want proof? I'll give you proof."

Images flashed before his eyes, except they weren't just images: they were like vivid memories capturing all five of his senses. He heard a painfully familiar scream. He smelt ash. He saw what was initially deep-seated terror on Michelle's face, her cries of frustration as she couldn't overcome her guilt over and over again, but it soon turned into determination and catharsis as she escaped, walking off into what wasn't quite a white, heavenly light, but something that in any case told Tony that Michelle had been down here and gotten herself out. Tony wondered what the root of her guilt had been. Rationally, it could be something from work, something where she blamed herself justifiably or not for the deaths of either fellow agents or civilians. But a part of him hated that knowing her, she could have also been dealing with guilt over leaving him, something she had had every right to do.

Although Tony was a little sceptical, wondering whether this was still part of a lie, Lucifer's ostensible offence at his accusation combined with the visceral nature of what he had just seen inclined him to trust him.

"Admittedly, I really shouldn't have shown you that," Lucifer said. "Souls are entitled to confidentiality."

"Confidentiality?" Tony rasped, confused as to how someone who tortured souls — but apparently didn't lie — could care about something like that. "Since when does the devil care about confidentiality?"

"Since my therapist told me it was a good idea!" Lucifer retorted impatiently, releasing Tony from his hold and letting him gasp for air.

It seemed every answer he gave just begat ten more questions. Tony at least hoped his therapist was getting paid well — never mind the logistics of who they were and how. But even though Tony had relaxed a little mentally, his body seemed to be heading in the opposite direction. His chest felt tight, and he was struggling to breathe. It was like it was correlated with him staying in this apparent purgatory and not deciding whether to go back to Earth or bravely try to battle his guilt in hell.

Tony's mind went back to Michelle and their son. He hadn't been able to kill Henderson. He hadn't been able to make things right. That was something he knew would haunt him for sure. He was going to spend the rest of eternity trying to get over the fact that he had failed them by not using his final breaths to avenge them.

But if he returned to humanity… maybe he could finish what he started.

His fist clenched. The idea of revenge quickly overpowered his trepidation about spending eternity drowning in his sorrows.

"You're taking me back. Now," Tony ordered, hardening his voice.

Lucifer tutted. "That's not a good idea."

"I need to hunt down the people who killed my wife."

"Or, you can work through your guilt and go be with her."

Tony's cheek twitched. It was like the rage he currently felt was all he was capable of feeling, the only thing keeping his heart beating.

"It might take you time, but I believe you can do it. Your soul must be fuelled by a powerful emotion in order to return. If that emotion is anger... you might be so consumed by revenge that you do things unworthy of redemption," Lucifer said gravely. "I have seen people in your position choose to go back for the sake of greed, and when they do end up in hell again, they never forgive themselves."

Tony turned towards the second door, feeling a magnetic pull as he started to walk to it.

"Your son is up there, too," Lucifer said, almost begging him. Tony would later wonder whether he actually didn't like torturing people — not all of them, at least — and secretly rooted for humans who saved themselves and found eternal peace after a life of suffering.

He turned his head to look at him. "All the more reason to go back and finish what I started."

"I am warning you now, you will regret this."

Tony met Lucifer's eyes. "I know."