All language subtitles for 03x20_The.Angel.of.San.Bernardino_Lucifer

- Previously on Lucifer...
- God cursed Cain

because he killed his own brother.

She's the key to finally getting

- what I've always wanted.
- Just wish I knew that

Pierce's intentions were pure.

If you want to take
it slow, that's okay,

but from where I stand, I'm all in.

I told you not to talk to Charlotte.

She's a human woman

who isn't ready to hear
what you have to say.

I was in Hell. And that's insane.

Charlotte, do you have a minute?

At this point, things
can't get any crazier.

I am done with Earth

in general. I want to go home.

Last time I took someone
on a celestial Uber ride,

the detective almost died.

You're afraid of your daddy?

You are gonna regret this.

I can help us both get what we want.

Where's my money?

I just don't have it. I lost it.

What do you mean you
lost it? Where is it?

What do you want me to say?

9-1-1. What is your emergency?

- Hello? People are fighting in my house.
- Come on, Kevin.

Kevin, stop.

Oh...

Good morning, Detective Decker.

- Good morning, Lieutenant Pierce.
- Hey.

Have you seen the evidence closet?

Uh... no.

Wow.

This is a great closet.

And, um...

Oh, yeah.

Get some, Decker.

Look at that.

It's always nice to start the day

nose to nose, isn't it?

Speaking of, you'll never guess

what happened to me
last night, Detective.

What's that?

I woke up alone.

- And?
- It's funny because

I usually don't, because I usually

have women over, or
men, or both for sex.

Okay.

Will he be

coming with you from now on?

Because he is killing our banter.

Absolutely not, no.

Pierce and I only came...

Drove together just this one time.

One time.

- Right.
- Apparently...

the victim's from a
well-connected family.

The suits downtown want me
to keep them in the loop.

Don't worry, I won't interfere

with the investigation,

- or the, uh, dream team.
- Uh-uh.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Okay. Shall we?

Uh... you have DNA on your shirt.

What?

Oh... um...

Oh, weird.

Hey, Ella, what's up?

You tell me what's up, player.

So, dead guy?

There must be an I.D.

Right.

Here lies Kevin Winstead

of the Winsteads.

34 years old.

The Winsteads?

The wealthy real estate
family from New York.

Oh. So, what's he doing getting killed

in such a crappy neighborhood?

Apparently, he rented a room here.

Not sure why he would, but Kevin

was notoriously the black
sheep of the Winstead clan.

Heroin addiction.

Although...

from the looks of these
healed track marks,

it appears that Kevin might
have gone clean recently.

Not an easy thing to do.

And, apparently, a waste of his time.

What was the cause of death?

Gunshot wound to the chest.

- Shot during a home invasion robbery?
- Maybe.

But the killer never got
around to taking anything.

Got interrupted by the house's owner.

Oh, that poor boy.

He seemed nice.

- Why don't you tell me what happened.
- I was sleeping,

and I heard glass breaking,

so I went down to check it out.

And then I heard arguing.

Uh, what were they arguing about?

The voices were muffled,
but I did hear someone say,

"Kevin, stop."

So, the intruder knew the victim.

The former heroin addict
had nefarious friends.

- Shocking.
- Did you get

a good look at the guy?

He was wearing a mask.

I would be dead for sure

if God hadn't sent that
angel to protect me.

So, there was someone else in the house.

Not another person.

An angel, who saved me.

It-it flew in here,

and it just chased the evil man away.

I'm sorry, sorry, it's
just the only thing

my siblings would chase
away are a good time.

I have proof.

The angel...

he took one of my figurines.

Hmm? Gabriel.

Right.

Try lending him some money.

Your tune changes rather quickly.

Mrs. Hernandez, why don't we get you

checked out at the hospital?

- Thank you.
- Yes.

All right, let's do a
background check on Kevin.

Let's see if he had issues with anybody.

Keep an eye out for
this angelic witness.

Hey, maybe it was one of your brothers.

Seriously, is it one of your brothers?

Preposterous.

My Father doesn't send my siblings down

to intervene in petty
robberies in Pacoima.

He only sends them to harass me.

Oh, and speaking of...

Hello?

Right, I'm here.

What's so dastardly important?

Okay, Luci, I think we made a mistake

revealing divinity
to Charlotte Richards.

We? It was your idea.

But now I'm having second thoughts.

What if she tells someone?

Oh, no, you're right.

'Cause then that person
might tell someone else,

who then might tell someone
else, which could lead to

absolutely nothing happening
'cause no one will believe her.

Okay, look, you might not care, Luci,

but the concept of divinity is too big

for humans to handle.

We don't know what she's
gonna do now that she knows.

And I don't care.

You're right.

Oh, question, brother.

You don't happen to know
if any of our siblings

might be in town?

Not that I'm aware of.

Ah.

Why?

Oh, it's probably nothing.

Just an old woman

in some unremarkable home said an angel

broke into her house.

Saved her life.

Stole one of her hideous figurines.

All that trouble for one ordinary human?

Yeah.

I mean, it would have
to be one very bored

or deeply confused angel.

Yea...

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
-- www.Addic7ed.com --

I mean, there must be some
sort of reasonable explanation.

And you don't remember how the figurine

- got into your bedroom?
- No.

I mean, maybe it's a
housewarming gift or...

or a sex toy.

Or a housewarming gift sex toy.

I just...

And it's identical to the one missing

- from that woman's house?
- Yes.

But it's coincidence, surely.

You've been complaining about
having weird dreams lately.

Including one where you
couldn't control your wings.

I've also dreamt I was
king of the centaur people.

Doesn't mean I'm gonna
start wearing horseshoes.

There have been instances
where people sleepwalk

when they're having difficulty
dealing with painful situations.

Or, inversely, not dealing with them.

Is it possible you're not
dealing with something,

and, thus, sleepflying?

That's absurd. I mean, what in the world

- could I not be dealing with?
- I don't know.

Chloe and Pierce, maybe?
Perhaps you're not as

okay with that
relationship as you think.

Look, I am not an idiot, Doctor.

Clearly, I don't love them together,

But I'm also not a 16-year-old

crying in my bedroom
with Adele on repeat.

And I'm definitely not this angel.

And, I know just how to prove it.

This was nice.

This was...

Crap.

Wow, not even remotely close

to what I thought you were gonna say.

No, no, the time. We got to go.

What? Why?

Trixie's gonna be home any minute.

And you don't want her to see me here.

Look, you're pretty
much the first person

that I've dated since Dan.

I haven't introduced Trixie to anybody.

And I just don't want to
do that until I'm sure.

And it's not that I'm not sure.

I just, I-I want to be ready,

and I want to know. You know?

Maybe I shouldn't have said all that.

- Anyhow...
- What's the prob...

Listen, fast or slow,
whatever the speed,

I'm into this.

If you haven't figured it out, Chloe,

I'm in...

I like you.

Sorry.

Oh, it's Lucifer.

- Of course it is.
- Got to go.

Ah!

Good, you're here.

We need to find the killer.

Is this that super important thing

you said you needed to talk to me about?

Yes, because this case is of
the utmost importance to me now.

- Really? Why?
- Because if,

in the miniscule realm of possibility,

that crazy old lady did,
in fact, see an angel,

I need to prove that
the angel wasn't me.

I think I can help with
that. It wasn't you.

Well, I'm sure you're probably right.

And when the killer confirms as such,

I'll be one happy Devil.

So, come on, chop-chop. What do we got?

Okay, two days ago, Kevin checked out

of a high-end rehab
facility... Sunrise Sands.

And according to this incident report,

he got into a pretty nasty
fight with a fellow resident

right before he left...
A guy named Phil Goldstein.

Yeah, come on. I'm driving.

I don't understand why
humans waste so much time

resisting their desires.

A rehabilitation center
for drugs and sex.

Mr. Goldstein?

Detective Chloe Decker,

LAPD. We'd like to
ask you a few questions

about Kevin Winstead.

The answer's yes... he's a douchebag.

Did you know that he was murdered?

No, but it's nice to get
good news for a change.

The admin office said that you were gone

for a few hours last night

during the time of Kevin's murder.

So, would you like to
tell us where you were?

I went for a drive.
We're not prisoners here.

Can anyone confirm that?

If producing

nine legal shows taught me anything,

it's that I don't have to
say jack without a lawyer.

If you'll excuse me
while I go take a crap.

- What are you doing?
- Actually,

Phil, I've had enough of your crap!

Now, I know that you
killed Kevin Winstead,

and then an angel
interrupted your escape.

So, tell me, what did he look like?

- Lucifer.
- Man, what the hell

are you talking about, man?

Did he look like me?!

Lucifer, stop.

I did not kill Kevin.

But you guys did fight, right?

That is only 'cause Kevin took
this rehab stuff so seriously.

The rest of us? It's a smoke screen.

Keep our wives and jobs at bay.

But Kevin wouldn't shut up about

getting clean, getting his family back.

He drove me nuts.

So I punched him.

Get his family back?

I... His parents are dead,
and he wasn't married.

I don't know about any of that.

Where were you last night?

Answer her.

Uh, uh...

Uh, with hookers.

That's why I'm in here.

I'm a sex addict.

- Ah.
- It's court-ordered.

Anyway, you know,

two steps forward,

one step back, right?

Hey, what was that about?

It's nothing.

That was not nothing.

Talk to me.

Look, I just haven't been sleeping well.

That's all... but never
mind that, what's next?

What's next is you
take the afternoon off.

Get some rest.

What? I'd rather go and find the killer.

It's not a suggestion, Lucifer.

Look, I'm gonna spend
the rest of the day

poring through Kevin's file,

trying to figure out who his family is.

We probably won't know
anything until tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow?

Go home. You're tired.

Okay. Fine. But, only
if I can borrow these.

Well, I promise I'll bring them back.

Please don't.

Ew.

Luci.

Lucifer.

Wake up.

Ugh.

No offense, brother,
but on the list of things

I'd like to wake up to,
your face falls somewhere

after a horse's head
and Coldplay tickets.

I just came to show you this.

What...?

"The Angel of San Bernardino"?

See, I thought that
maybe one of our siblings

was in town.

But, Luci,

it appears that, uh...

I am the angel.

"Witnesses say the unknown Samaritan

"appeared to have wings.

Sort of flew in like..."
This is ludicrous.

It-it can't be me.

Can it?

Luci.

Just look around.

Look at your hands.

I think it is you, and I
think it's all my fault.

In what possible way is this your fault?

Because I made you show
your wings to Charlotte.

Reveal divinity.

And now, Father is punishing us for it.

Look, Father making me do angelic deeds

is a divine kick in the nuts to me.

Well, my punishment must be forthcoming.

- What?
- And who knows

in what form it will come.

Don't be ridiculous. You
or I aren't being punished

for Charlotte Richards,
same as I wasn't punished

for revealing myself to Linda.

Okay, well, then, how do
you explain all of this?

Well, it's obvious, isn't it?

It's just more manipulation.

Quite possibly, Dad's master
plan all along. I mean,

first, he makes me look
the part of an angel.

And then, he forces me
to act it in my sleep.

I don't know, Luci.

Well, if working with the detective

has taught me anything,
it's that I need proof.

Only the killer can say
for certain if it was me.

So I'm off to work.

- Might have a shower and stuff first, huh?
- Yeah.

I'll get some takeout, because
being with you is the dessert.

It's a date.

Can't wait to see you later.

#Dyingofcuteness.

How long have you been there?

Long enough to hear how
totally adorbs that was.

Sounds like things
are going really well.

They are. But...

But...

There's a "but" in there.

I think she's holding back.

She hasn't said the magic words.

What magic words?

You know.

Those three little words.

Rhymes with "my guv boo."

She hasn't said them, yeah.

You and I, we're the same.

The rock that people
break themselves against,

and you know what
happens to rocks like us?

When we fall, ooh, we fall really hard.

Kind of a scary place, huh?

But don't worry, LT.

When the time is right, she'll say them.

And, when she finally does...

Everything will change.

I'm counting on it.

Hmm.

Your casserole tastes like roadkill.

Oh, and you.

Stop telling stories
about your children,

'cause no one cares.

Hmm, Sally.

Oh, Charlotte.

It's not the clothes
that make you look fat.

It's the fat.

- Ugh.
- Yeah.

Oof. And you.

You are pretty great, actually.

Uh, thanks?

And you.

You are coming with me.

Okay.

Mrs. Bell, this is a copy

of your son's birth certificate.

It says that Kevin
Winstead is the father.

Kevin and I dated years ago.

We were going to get married

after I got pregnant with Jackson.

But I called it off at the last minute.

- Jackson, stop.
- Oh, no, no, no!

- No, no.
- No, no, no!

- Get off the floor.
- I got it.

Yeah, and people choose to procreate.

I'm afraid my son has Kevin's temper.

But you are

the one with the assault charges.

I did my share of drugs with Kevin.

I'm not proud of who I was then.

Right.

The drugs made you wild.

Which is why I stopped using.

But Kevin liked getting
high more than he loved me.

Our relationship became toxic.

So I left.

And when was the last time

- you spoke to Kevin?
- It's been years.

'Cause it says here on the phone records

that he called here three months ago?

Every now and then, he
would call, asking for money.

For drugs. So, whenever I would see

his name on the caller I.D.,

I would just hand the phone to Jeremy.

And did Kevin mention
having trouble with anyone?

A drug dealer, maybe?

Last time we spoke, he said

he owed somebody a lot of money.

I didn't care to ask who.

Right. Well, I'm not saying this
was a complete waste of time,

but... it was.

Mm. So... so then,

I said, "You can stick that brief

in the circular file under your robe."

Hint: it's his butt.

Aren't you worried about the fallout?

I had a big revelation recently,

and it's completely
changed my perspective on...

well, everything.

It's liberating.

Another round.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, no, no, no.

No, thank you.

- I should go.
- Relax.

You only live once.

Or...

twice, in my case.

Look, I would love to, but
if I show up back to work

completely hammered,
there's gonna be hell to pay.

I got you covered.

I'll put in a word with the big guy.

With Pierce?

No, think bigger.

The commissioner?

It's an anadrome for D-O-G.

I love how weird you are.

But I should go.

Or, you could duck into that closet,

take off all your clothes.

I'll go freshen up.

Meet you in there.

Then, do the same.

That's really not a good idea.

Come in.

Oh.

What are you doing in here?

Uh, I'm... was...

- I'm calling the police.
- No, no, no, no, no, no.

Don't do that, don't do that, please...

I am the police.

If I could just, um...

Right there.

I don't understand.
Why is it taking so long

to find Kevin Winstead's drug contacts

on your computer thingy?

It's easier said than done, Lucifer.

Well, the man is a degenerate.

He must have been
arrested a thousand times.

Rich families like the Winsteads,
they're all about appearances.

And they've been covering
Kevin's run-ins with the law

since he was a teenager.

Look, getting a hit,
it might take some time.

So why don't you go home,
get some sleep and...

Look, I can't.

Why?

Because if I am this
Angel of San Bernardino,

and I go to sleep, then
I might do it again.

Okay, well, just don't sleep then.

Hold on.

That is an excellent plan, Detective.

I'll just never sleep again.

Ah...

Oh!

Perfect. Harder.

Again.

Oh!

Come on!

Ha, ha!

Put the first layer in...

Another scavenger's coming...

Hey, Bones, look at that.

Mary, right?

Why do you care

about my relationship
with my father, Booth?

Look, I'm glad you called.

Um, but it's just gonna take some time.

I'm still upset, and so is Trixie.

I know.

I'm fine to take it at
whatever pace you need me to.

Fast or slow.

Whatever it takes.

Wait, what did you say?

"Fast or slow." Why?

It just... nothing.

Reminds me of something
someone else said.

Well, if you go by someone else's pace,

it shows how much you really care.

That's... incredibly insightful.

I learned it from sex.

That's more you.

All right, well, thanks, Maze.

Ha.

I got your text.

Where have you been all week?

- Has it been a week? Huh.
- Yes.

Um, hey, are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine. Fine.
Rough night, juice cleanse.

So what have we got, Booth?

Booth?

Yes, the FBI agent on Bones.

- The TV show?
- Uh-huh.

Watched all 12 seasons.
It's riveting stuff.

It's like watching a documentary of us.

Actually, you're clearly Booth.

- I'm Bones, obviously.
- Obviously.

Kevin's autopsy report. Good.

Now, I've been thinking,

perhaps there was a slight
depression on the occipital,

or slight fractures to the femur?

Did you know there were
206 bones in a human body?

Each of them a clue, sometimes twice.

And the coccyx is not what it sounds.

No coccyx.

What I did find was surveillance video

of Kevin getting arrested for
possession a few months ago.

Oh, goody.

- Okay.
- Mm-hmm.

So who's his doltish

- sparring partner?
- Uh,

Matt Kessman, per the arrest report.

- Kevin's dealer?
- Uh, I guess so.

I spoke to Kessman's roommate.

He said he's "doing a job" at the
Vido Hotel right now. So if we hurry...

Oh, so if we hurry, we
could catch him in the act.

Yes, use it as leverage, get
him to talk about Kevin's murder.

Onward, Boothy!

Excuse me, everyone.

If I could have your attention, please.

Oh, excuse me.

In the ER...

- Thank you.
- That's Matt Kessman.

I fix people's hearts with a scalpel.

Some say it's a miracle.

The real miracle here

is how Sheila fixed Kirby's heart.

Let's hear it for the
happy couple, huh? Cheers.

I find it strange that a heart surgeon

has roommates, and that
he's slugging it out

in an alleyway with a junkie.

Detective, I've seen that man before.

What? Where?

He's the killer. I'm certain of it.

- What?
- Yeah.

Thank you.

Stop what you're doing. LAPD.

Tell me, you murderous drug dealer.

Was it me?

Uh, drug dealer? I'm a heart surgeon.

Don't even try lying to me.

I know you killed Kevin Winstead.

And I know you killed that
intern at the hospital.

Yeah. Burned her body.

Only her cranium was left in
the smoldering, smoldering ashes.

Lucifer.

Lucifer.

Are you talking about
an episode of Bones?

Wha...?

Oh, yes.

Oh, yes, no, I suppose I am, actually.

Yes, episode 306.

"The Intern in the Incinerator."

Yes, of course. You were quite good.

- Thank you. Thank you.
- Yeah.

Yeah, that wasn't an easy role.

I thought you were a heart surgeon.

- Um...
- This is all my fault.

I don't have many friends.

Any friends.

So I hired Matt

to be my best man.

Make it look like I know fancy people.

Can I go back to my wedding now?

- Uh...
- Yeah, go ahead.

You were arrested at the
park for fighting with Kevin.

So why? Did he owe you money? What?

We were fighting because he
wouldn't do any drugs with me.

Because that's the
job I was hired to do.

So I-I don't understand. So
Kevin was your drug dealer?

I'm an actor. Times are tough.

I was hired to be Kevin's friend.

Just like the groom.

But instead of giving best man speeches,

I was supposed to keep him nodding out.

Eh, partying.

Who hired you to carry out
this ridiculous charade?

No idea. I-I got the
job through the agency

that sets it all up.

They're called Masquerade, Inc.

Breaking and entering
will get you five years.

You'd have to catch me first.

So, you ready for me to kill you yet?

No. And you can stop asking me.

I'll let you know when
the brand is finally gone,

but don't worry, I think it's soon.

Well, I did my part.

So what are we thinking?

- Pain or no pain?
- No pain.

I've had enough painful
death in my time.

Let's keep this last
one quick and clean.

No pain it is.

Not for you anyhow.

What?

Decker's the one who's gonna suffer.

I got to admit, getting her
to fall for you, and then,

poof, vanishing... ruthless.

And that's saying something
coming from a demon.

Respect.

I don't care who I have to hurt,

as long as it allows me to finally die.

"No family? No friends? No problem."

And for a fee, they'll send actors

to pose as family or friends

at public functions for
the sake of appearances.

- That's clever.
- Yeah, well, it's creepy.

At least now we know that whoever hired

that exceptionally
talented actor from Bones

may well be our killer. Hmm?

So, um... It says, says here

the Masquerade office is
in Hollywood. I'm driving.

Lucifer.

I won't be able to get a
warrant until tomorrow morning.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

It-it is imperative that we go now.

It's imperative that you sleep.

You clearly...

I can't sleep!

Detective, I can't sleep.

Lucifer.

- I've had it.
- What... you won't understand, really.

- Hmm?
- It's my wings. They're back.

My Father, he's manipulating me.

He's making me do things
that I would never do.

What? Like flying through the night,

helping people like some rogue angel?

- Yes! Yes, exactly!
- Uh-huh.

That is the only plausible explanation.

Either that or Linda's
right, and I'm suppressing

pent-up feelings about you and Pierce,

which is obviously absurd.

You hate that I'm with him.

I couldn't care less that you're
with that insolent dullard.

We both know that's not true,

but what I want to know is
why it bothers you so much.

Because, Detective, I happen
to know him better than you,

and I know that you can't trust him.

Care to elaborate on that?

I... Yeah.

Fine, I will, because you
deserve to know the truth.

Yes, okay.

Pierce isn't Pierce.

He's Cain from the Bible.

And he's immortal. He's
been around for eons.

And all he cares about
is ridding himself

of that stupid curse that
my Father put on him...

- Because he killed his brother.
- Stop. Stop!

- You're tired, and you're not thinking clearly.
- No...

No, I'm... it's not because
I'm tired, Detective!

And...

But since you brought it up,

let me tell you what
I think about Marcus.

He is a good man

who treats me right.

And I'm happy, Lucifer.

And all I know is how I
feel when I'm around him,

and, you know, I l...

I...

We're done here.

Seven carats

of pure bliss.

Don't you deserve a little indulgence?

I'll take it.

Hey.

You got a second?

For you, Amenadiel, always.

Don't go too far.

Dan called me. He's worried about you.

Well, all is good. In
fact, it's better than good.

It's perfect.

Yeah, what about that Spartan lifestyle?

What can I say? Things change.

And why is that?

Because when you know

a pair of angels that can

zip you up to Heaven
when the time comes,

worrying is a waste of time.

That's not how it works, Charlotte.

- What do you mean?
- Okay, look.

Neither I nor Lucifer have the
power to get anyone into Heaven.

I don't have my wings,

and Lucifer, well,

he is, uh, most unwelcome.

So the only thing that matters,

Charlotte, truly, is who you are.

It's okay.

Nothing's changed.

No, don't you see? That's the problem.

The second I thought I had a free pass,

an excuse not to be good,

I relapsed into my old ways,

into who I really am.

There's no hope for me.

Amenadiel, I can't change.

I'm going to Hell.

- Mommy.
- Hmm?

Did you know if you're ever mean to me,

I can just go on this
site and order a new mommy?

Oh, yeah? How you gonna pay for that?

Your credit card.

I've gotten pretty good at
your signature, you know.

I don't doubt that. All right, come on.

Let's go get some pizza and ice cream

on the way home.

He seems nice.

He is nice. You know, Monkey,

since Daddy,

I haven't really dated
anyone... well, seriously.

And, uh...

Marcus and I,

we've been spending a
lot of time together.

And the truth is... I like him, a lot.

And it's just so important to
me that you're okay with that.

Is he the reason you've
been so happy lately?

I think so.

Does he like chocolate cake?

You know what, I don't know.

Let's ask him.

All right.

Oh, my God.

What is it, Mommy?

That's Jeremy Bell.

The husband we interviewed.

Hello?

Anyone there?

Trouble sleeping?

Mr. Morningstar, what
are you doing here?

Shh. It's probably best
not to wake your family.

Even though...

they're not your family.

I just came from Masquerade

where a most cooperative employee

helped me connect the dots.

So, you used to be an actor.

We're in L.A., everybody
used to be an actor.

Mm-hmm, but not everyone gets
such a cushy gig, do they?

Your so-called wife

worried she'd no longer
fit in with the classes

after she broke it off with
her deadbeat baby daddy,

hired you to play husband and father.

Murdering to keep the gig?

That seems a tad
method, don't you think?

Murder?

Th-That's crazy.

All right, look, you need to leave

or I'm gonna call the police.

Oh, please. Spare me the theatrics

because I am in no mood

to hear the half-baked
recitation of innocence

by a, well, mediocre actor.

Was it mediocre acting

that got Mary to actually
fall in love with me?

And Kevin's reappearance
just put all that in jeopardy.

Yeah, I wasn't about to let that loser

weasel his way back in here.

Just like I'm not gonna
let you mess it up, either.

Too bad you're trespassing.

What the hell?

Most kind of you to admit your guilt.

The trying to kill me part, less so.

Aah!

Now, tell me what I really want to know.

- Am I the angel?
- What angel?!

Did I stop you from
killing that old woman?

What happened the
night you killed Kevin?!

Okay. I'll tell you.

After I shot him, I ran out.

I bumped into that old lady.

But there was nobody else there.

She fell into some kind of
religious trance so I bolted!

She saw an angel!

- Was it me?!
- No! I...

It was a-a shadow
from-from those figurines.

With the figurines, the
angel figurines. Did you plant

- the figurine in my bedroom?!
- No, no.

I-I touched one of them.

So I took it, but it
had my prints on it.

I destroyed it right after. I swear.

Then... how...

I was only trying to protect my family.

It was never your family to protect,

you pathetic imposter.

You stole it

from Kevin Winstead.

And then you kept him distracted

by hiring someone to
keep the party going.

Driving him to self-destruction,

stoking the very fires
of his own weakness...

to keep him out of the way.

How could I be so blind?

Jeremy Bell? LAPD.

It's all my fault.

I killed Kevin Winstead.

I am a pathetic imposter.

What are you doing?

I need to find it, Maze.

Find what?

Your self-respect?

The-the angel figurine.
It's here somewhere.

I-I need to find it so that I can

convince the detective that Pierce...

isn't who she thinks he is.

What? I don't understand. Explain.

I figured it out, haven't I?

Pierce has been gaslighting me.

He's been tricking me into thinking

I've been doing good deeds in my sleep.

Why would he do that?

Because...

to keep me away from the detective

so he can pursue her.

He must be back to thinking
that she's the key to lifting

his bloody curse.

I mean, I tried to warn her,

but she wouldn't listen, would she?

And why wouldn't she listen?

Because the detective
always needs proof.

And what better proof than
that trinket that he used

to-to-to deceive me?

Wait.

If you want Chloe to believe you,

you have to do it right.

Take it to Ellen. Have
her do her lab thingy.

Yes, yes, you're right.

First, back up. Tell me everything.

Start at the beginning.

And don't leave a single thing out.

It's just...

so hard to put everything
together in my mind, Maze.

I mean, you-you wouldn't understand.

Thank you.

That's very kind of you.

Which is not like you at all.

Why are you even here?

You're helping him. Aren't you?

"Helping him"?

This was my idea.

After Pierce told me

about that old lady who
thought she saw an angel,

that's when it all came together.

I planted the figurine by your bed.

My neck... is still jacked
from wearing those fake wings

to save that dumb family

in San Bernardino.

You came this close the
other night to waking up

after I took those handcuffs off.

Thankfully, handcuffs
in bed, I got that.

Why would you do this to me, Mazikeen?

Because I know the only thing

that matters to you more than Chloe.

You.

Easiest way to spin you out.

Tap into those daddy issues.

"I can't get rid of my wings.

Daddy's controlling me."

Wah, wah, wah.

You're stalling me.

Aren't you?

I need to get to the detective!

Hi.

What do you have?

You're lucky you're cute

because I hate surprises.

Come on. Let me see.

To celebrate solving a murder.

Mm, my second favorite
kind of six-pack.

Thank you.

And this.

I'm more of a key lime pie guy myself,

but every proper bribe
requires self-sacrifice.

Trixie is gonna love this.

- It's her favorite.
- Hmm.

She's at a birthday party right now.

Oh, birthday party.

Maybe she's already had
enough cake for the evening.

Well, then maybe we can
all share it together

tomorrow morning for breakfast.

You mean I don't have to sneak
out of the house in the morning

like a teenager?

- Mm-hmm.
- Are you sure?

Oh, I'm sure.

Yeah. I-I'm done walking on eggshells.

I'm done worrying about how
this affects everybody else

because the way that
I feel about you is...

just... don't get a big head.

All right? We're both adults

and it's not that big a deal.

But anyhow, here it goes. Um...

I... really...

like spending time with you.

And I know why.

Because, Pierce, I l...

Stop.

I can't do this.

What? Wait, no.

Marcus, don't freak out.

I mean, I know that this is scary,

but sometimes you-you just

have to take a leap of faith. You know?

Hold on.

Did something happen?

Did... is it something I did or said?

Because, look, we can take this slow.

I just thought that...

You're just making this too hard.

What?

It's not worth it.

I'm not worth it?

- I have to go.
- What?

Why?!

Why did you hurt her? Why?!

For the first time, I had it.

It was right there in my grasp.

The one thing I always wanted.

It was so close.

I just had to have her say the words.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't do that to her.

I couldn't...

hurt her like that.

Well, you hurt her plenty.

And now?

I'm gonna hurt you.

Get up. Come on.

You do what you have to do, Lucifer.

I deserve it.

Your mark...

it's gone.

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
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