Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There had been a short moment at the very beginning of things when there had only been one thing to know:

Let there be light.

The voice of God had commanded it, and then there was Light. Easy as that.

God had asked and Lucifer was. 

Lucifer’s siblings were still being waited for and so for the first beats of Lucifer’s existence it was just him and his Creator, only the warmth and comfort emitted by his Father, His form illuminated by Lucifer’s glow. 

It had been incredibly simple, another one of those easy things, to love his Father.

Lucifer had been created for a specific, eager purpose. A sentence in a poem, a cog in a machine, for a complicated but neatly mapped out plan.

Of course, as most know the story goes, he had failed that purpose. Completely sidestepped, squashed and imploded it. Such a strange thing, something that was created to perform and comply its creator refusing. When Lucifer betrayed Him (his parent, his God, his purpose) and his design he thereby forfeited the life he knew and was meant to live out. A puppet with its strings cut, a dog without a leash.

But when something falls something rises, and Lilith rose like a north star, a shining, guiding light in darkness. She was his heart hominum; beating stubbornly and blood red in his chest. There wasn’t a single life or plan where Lucifer would not do anything in his power and lose everything he had to be in her field of gravity, orbiting her like a moon. He had chosen his purpose, attached all his cut strings to her and let her have them. Sometimes it got difficult to tell where he ended and she began.

Roughly 99800 years into their exile a small spark turned into a second light, and Lucifer got gifted a new tether, a shimmering lifeline.

Charlie was the best thing created in Hell, Earth and Heaven. Lucifer could never quite coalesce the fact he had had a part in her creation, a hand in it. The thought shook him, made his world tilt slightly.

If Charlie was pure sunshine, her father was a supernova, collapsing in on itself and taking its sweet time about it. He knew this, no matter how much Charlie seemed to mistake his light for the same as hers. She would reach out, and though it felt unnatural and bitter and like he was laying knots in the umbilical cord, he would step back. Lucifer felt half unreal most of the time, discorporated and fuzzy around the edges. Something that could rub off. He was more than happy to let Charlie imagine their fire the same, no matter how selfish that made him.

And then Lilith disappeared. Not a trace, barely a word; a whisper on a breeze. Lucifer stood completely unmoored for the first time in his long, unbearably long existence. Swallowed absolutely by the expansive emptiness of the yawning universe.

He would know.
It had been the first thing he had encountered when Father had pulled him into being from the nothingness. Unblinking and gaunt it stared back at him. The first thing Lucifer ever felt was fear. The second had been his Father, pulling him away from it.

With Lilith gone the fear was seeping out of his bedroom ceiling, syrupy and dark. When Lucifer had stopped going to bed it followed on his heel. He could feel it watching him, hungry like it had been in his first seconds of existence. Prowling for what it thought it was owed and somewhere along the line, a few years after Lilith’s disappearance, Lucifer could admit to himself that he had known that this was where he would end up all along. Alive to see it. In the jaws of it. 

The Lightbringer would lose to the encroaching abyss in the end; light would be swallowed by the ever-expanding darkness. This had been in the cards from the start, this Lucifer knew. Fate preferred circular storytelling.

So, admittedly, Lucifer hadn’t been doing great there, for a while, having a staring contest with the void, its jaws hanging open and hungry like a wolf in winter.

Enter stage right: Charlie. Quite suddenly. A strong tug on a thread Lucifer had refused (or failed) to hold on to. She tugged him away, away from the chasm, because she had the right, and she was the last one around, and just like that, he was in orbit again. A moon happy to be dancing around a planet.

Charlie had grown bright, brighter than he had ever thought possible, with dreams that reminded him so much of his own failings being around her felt like burning.

After witnessing Heaven’s annual reminder, after seeing the man he had detested for ten thousand years perish in the dust of his domain, he uncurled his fingers from his fists and wiped away his daughter’s tears. 

Charlie had caught his hand, pulled her thread, and secured it close to her. A second chance he didn’t deserve, was terrified of, but selfishly couldn’t refuse.

After, Lucifer had curled his fingers back so tightly his nails pierced skin and he made himself bleed bleed bleed a rosegold for what felt like hours. Half a nauseating reminder of the home that kicked him out, half a reminded of his heart, of Lilith. 

And then time did as time does and through its passing Charlie seemed happy to see him most days. Sought him out to see him work on her hotel, asked him questions. It felt like shaking off cobwebs. It felt like trying to fly without wings.

He put himself to work. He poured into the hotel like he hadn’t been able to muster for other projects for, well, the better part of a decade. Maybe more. Lucifer had never had the best grasp on time, not like other beings seemed to have, finicky and fluid as it was, it tended to elude him with ease. It was remedial creation, every move of his hands, every design created out of nothing.

It seemed like he had forgotten, somewhere along the way, the cause and effect of creation, of working something into existence. Lucifer felt grabbed by it, completely head-underwater for something he once knew like breathing.

Funny thing about that is, though, that while he was shaking off the cobwebs and dust, he couldn’t actually stop shaking.

Lucifer raised his hand slightly, trying to glance at it without anyone, but especially Charlie, noticing. It trembled in the air just like last time and the time before that. Lucifer quickly lowered it to his lap, braiding his fingers together. They couldn’t shake when trapped! When it had started he had assumed it had something to do with all of the energy leaving through his hands. His body, a vessel and conduit in most senses of the words, was being put to work in a way it hadn’t been for years. This force, starting in his chest and propelled out of his body with the flick of a wrist or the fluttering of fingers to settle into new creations for the past few… weeks (?) must have left a residue, an energy that shook and tingled. 

Not that Lucifer remembered his hands shaking when he had put the stars in their place or dragged light from pole to pole. His body kept surprising him even after the eons they had spent together. Still, not the worst curveball he’d been thrown by the thing. The shaking was only slightly annoying when working and only inconvenient because there were people to see it, it was nothing to pay more mind to than that.

Speaking of paying mind, Charlie had been in the business of moving her mouth for an alarming amount of time. 

“… is why I was thinking…”

Her voice was bright; like birdsong, like bells, and Lucifer tried to let it pierce the droning buzz in his mind.

“… a reading room… the second floor… leak…”

Lucifer blinked at his daughter, desperately trying to will away the dust gathering in the corners of his vision, the static in his ears. He wasn’t sure what to blame specifaclly for his absentmindedness this time. Though it could also have something to do with that damned Alastor and his insufferable radio shtick sitting in the chair next to him. Legs crossed and back ramrod straight, not even touching the back of his chair, ever-present smile plastered on his face, obtrusive like a billboard. There was only a slight pinch in the corner of his eye that betrayed either some weariness or annoyance. Lucifer didn’t care to investigate further.

“… room on the first floor… books and they have…. a lot!”

Lucifer pressed his nails into the palms of his hand, ten little pinpricks to take him to the ground.

Charlie, his beautiful, smart, driven daughter was putting forward her plans to him, her plans for her dream. And Al. Because they were co-hoteliers, or whatever Charlie had come up with to appease the Radio Bore. Lucifer honestly thought Charlie was being too altruistic, Alastor should be happy Charlie was keeping him around even though he had practically become obsolete the moment Lucifer joined the hotel staff. Working for his girl; he felt so proud he could feel it squeeze in his chest.

Charlie clapped her hands. Uh oh.

“So! What do you think?”

Charlie gestured at the scribbles and drawings she had laid out on the table in front of them, blueprints and notes illegible to anyone that had not been paying attention during her pitch. Charlie, bless her heart, had neither inherited Lilith’s neat, precise handwriting or Lucifer’s affinity for drawing. 

In his defense, he wasn’t always this bad at keeping up, he’d just been a bit…

Lucifer turned to Alastor and Alastor turned to him, grin wide and eyes gleaming. He curled a spindly hand in the air, gesturing for Lucifer to take the stage, creating a silence for him to fill. Charlie probably thought he was being polite. He didn’t even need to speak to drive Lucifer up the wall.

“Right.” Lucifer eyed the table, desperately looking for cues. Oh, he had known today was going to be bad the moment he woke up.

Charlie smiled at him, eyes bright.

“I think it’s great, Char,” he said, voice all warm in his throat because it was true, whatever she had come up with for this hotel, it was wonderful.

Charlie preened. “I’m so glad you do, dad.”

Alastor shifted next to him, uncrossing his legs only to cross them the other way around.

“Really,” he purred through the static, “so what did you think of her idea to put the library on the first floor, west wing?”

Lucifer frowns at him, trying to recall what this meant, what Alastor was playing at.

“Not ringing a bell?”

Lucifer took too long.

Alastor tutted. He turned to face Charlie, who had pressed her lips together in a thin line, and clasped his hands politely on his knee.

“Because I, personally, dear, would like to point out that while there is enough space for your creative little plan, it is narrow.” He pointed his cane at one of the near-indecipherable blueprints. 

Charlie’s eyes were wide and her mouth opened in a gentle ‘oh’.

“We’d have to put your bookshelves all along exterior walls,” Alastor continued, leaning over the table, tiptoeing his fingers over the line that was apparently representing an exterior wall, “where they may experience changes in temperature and,” he looked at Lucifer from the corner of his eye, “humidity.”

“Ah, I see,” Charlie brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks reddening a little, and that wasn’t right at all, Charlie should never feel embarrassed, not for having ideas.

Here she was, making drawings and blueprints and presentations, pouring her heart into this selfless, daring project and she was being made to feel wrong by some low-life, haughty, conniving-

 “-you for, Alastor,” Charlie smiled at the sinner, before turning to Lucifer.

Her lips were moving.

Tune in tune in tuneintuneintunein-

Lucifer pulled up the corners of his mouth, desperately searching her face for clues, coughing into his hand when he didn’t find any. Charlie just waited.

“Sorry, Char, uh, your old man’s hearing isn’t what it used to be, care to repeat that?”

Charlie’s eye twitched. Ah, how unfortunately familiar. 

“Dad,” she clapped her hand together in front of her, a little explosion of noise. Lucifer blinked at it. “What do you think about this?”

“Ah! Well, I think Mr. Wisenheimer needs to pipe down and let me create whatever your heart desires for your hotel. I’m sure we’ll figure it out fine without him.”

Lucifer crossed his arms. Alastor’s expression remained firmly pleased. Lucifer only had a second to ponder that.

Charlie groaned, deep and undeniably frustrated; a hair-tugging kind of groan. “No, dad, that’s not- Just listen for a second.”

Lucifer stilled at the command, the blood in his fingers prickling.

“Alastor is helping me. I asked him for his opinion because I wanted his opinion. Do you think I can do everything by myself?”

Lucifer did catch that, for all the things he let slip past him like strange winds, he did catch Charlie sharp exasperation. Her thorn, clear in her face even as she tried to tamp it down, brushing a blonde lock from her face and taking a breath.

“This is why Alastor is my hotelier, dad. I rely on him because he’s good at what he does and gives it to me straight. I would- I need you to at least try to get along if you’re here, because Alastor has been such a massive help and I really meant it when I said I couldn’t do this without him and I-”

“I can help!” Lucifer interrupted as stress lines appeared next to his daughter’s eyes, between her brows. “I can, I’m-” His heart was beating quite fast. He swallowed it down. He needed to actually help. “I apologize, Charlie.”

And just like that, because Charlie gives too much of everything and is happy to take far too little, the lines on her face gently melted away against the warmth of her smile. Small and a little sad, but sunshine nonetheless.

“Thank you, dad,” she absolved him after a soft sigh.

Lucifer kept his eyes fixed on her, didn’t even glance at the demon sitting next to him. He tried to dredge something. He straightened his spine, showed his teeth and wrung his hands together for good measure.

“So, how can I redeem myself, huh?” He winked at Charlie. “Just tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.”

Charlie’s eyes flicked to Alastor and back to him, before steeling herself. “Well, dad… I think it would actually be a good idea to help Alastor with the library.”

The radio skipped a station and Lucifer couldn’t help but silently agree.

“Because Alastor is good at planning these things,” she continued, “and he knows all about what works and what doesn’t and you are so creative! Plus, you have enough books back home to fill the whole thing with. Uhm, if you don’t mind lending some of your books, of course.”

Lucifer actually did mind the idea of having to lend out the equivalent of ten libraries of Alexandria to random sinners but he felt that wasn’t the hurdle to stumble over now. There were a few other ones he worth tripping over first.

“Charlotte, darling-” he started, before getting interrupted.

“Now, there’s no reason to keep your father away from all of his other pressing duties. I can assure you I can handle this little passion project fine by myself.”

Protest appreciated, but Lucifer could see his daughter's smile turn tight and determined and, well, best to just resign himself to it all now.

“I think it would be good for you to work on it together, you know, for your personal growth. Neither of you have been participating in the craft sessions or the general psych classes- or any of the other exercises we’ve been working on for that matter.”

Lucifer tried to interrupt her but she held up a hand.

“Which is fine, I know neither of you are here for redemption, but this hotel is about bettering yourself, no matter who you are.” She slammed a fist in her palm, face alight with resolve. “You’re both working here and I need you two to learn how to get along well enough to do that. This is my hotel and… I’m asking nicely.”

Lucifer bit the inside of his cheek, truly and utterly defeated and nodded before Alastor could, beating him to the punch and knowing his co-hotelier couldn’t say no if he’d already acquiesced.

“You’re right, Char,” he tried not to sigh. “We’ll…,” he glanced at Alastor whose eyes were narrowed above his seemingly agreeable smile, “work it out.”

Charlie beamed at him and did the same for Alastor when he inevitably had to accede as well. His daughter was akin to a steamroller. She concluded their talk with a million thank you’s and slamming her binder closed with finality. Lucifer made to stand and follow Alastor out the door when Charlie held up a hand. He blinked owlishly at it.

“Oh, yeah, uhm. Dad, could you stay for a moment?”

Lucifer hoped Charlie couldn’t see him tense slightly. As much as he wanted to have a moment with his daughter without the Alastor breathing down his neck, this felt suspiciously like the dawn of a talking to. Lucifer sat back down, colliding with the soft back of the chair.

“Yeah, of course, Char.”

Alastor walked out of the room, prim and proper and grinning over his shoulder behind Charlie’s back. Asshole.

She laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear again and, really, Lucifer did not need his daughter nervous to be talking to him, really, really did not need that.

“So, what do you need?” he asked, trying to melt his edges and make his voice warm as possible.

Charlie sat back down on her side of the desk. “I don’t need anything, dad, just wanted to talk for a moment.”

“Okay!” Lucifer replied in a totally normal and regular tone of voice. “Is there- what… Uhm.” He wrung his hands before remembering that he’d been doing that too much and dropped them under the table. He didn’t remember when that had become a habit, couldn’t recall doing it often when he had been a few millennia younger, at least. He’d have to ask Lil- never mind. 

Charlie tugged at her fingers. Well, he probably gave her the bad habit, so he must have started at least somewhere in the last two hundred years.

“Yes, uhm,” she hesitated. “Would you like another cup of tea?” She grabbed the pot from the edge of the desk and held it in front of her like a shield.

He nodded stiffly. “Thank you, dear.”

A conversation that begged for a refill it seemed.

“You’re welcome!”

Charlie filled her own cup too, careful and slow, the way she used to do when she had been a child. Lucifer could practically see that version in front of him now, a young princess in sparkling purple dresses ordering her parents around as she hosted her afternoon teas. He took the freshly poured mug between his hands. Lucifer was a bit of a sap when it came to things like this, that he knew, and he couldn’t help himself. 

“Hey, Char?”

She looked up.

“Remember when you were little, and you’d drag your mother and me away for tea and pastries?”

Charlie looked a little surprised before she smiled sheepishly while putting down the teapot. Some of the worried edges melted away and it spurred him on to continue.

“And you’d instruct us how to do it properly, like from the books you read?”

“Hah, yeah, I remember those.”

Lucifer relaxed his shoulders, genuinely tickled by the memory. “You used to call it ‘playing princess’, as if you weren’t already one.”

Charlie huffed, tilting her head. “No, I called it ‘playing princess’ because we would all be princesses.”

Lucifer hummed. “Yes, I remember you doing my hair, it took an hour to get it all untangled.”

Charlie laughed at that, a bright chirp followed with an unabashed snort. “Was that the same day mom and I took so long doing your make-up you fell asleep?”

Lucifer chuckled, the almost forgotten memory pried from a dusty filing cabinet somewhere in his head. “Ah, yes.” 

He looked down into his cup, visions of Charlie, young and soft, sitting on his lap, staring at his face with utter determination and focus, wielding a kohl pencil like a weapon. Lilith behind her and shining and exuding mirth, her own make-up a mess, previous victim of their aspiring make-up artist.

“I remember,” Lucifer said, tender like a bruise. In the steam coming from the cup he tried to let the memories remain soft and kind, to not let himself drag them into something other than a balm.

Charlie, kind and sweet as a rose, smiled like she understood and wrapped a hand over his for a second or two, just to share the silence. Lucifer breathed deeply, once, in and out and everything.

“What is it, Char, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

Charlie sighed and sat back, smile turning slightly apologetic.

“Right. So, first, I wanted to thank you. You’ve been working hard on the hotel, with the renovations and all my plans and everyone’s wishes,” she listed, and Lucifer couldn’t help but puff his chest a little, preening at being found of use. 

“And you moved in as well!” Charlie continues, “And I really, really appreciate that, dad, and I know you keep saying that it’s nothing and you like doing it and stuff, but…”

‘But.’

Any relaxed contentment that Lucifer had let settle over himself so luxuriously seeped away like smoke. He squeezed the mug, willing his hands to stay still.

“Ah, because I do, Charlie,” he tried to save, “Anything you want you can ask for, your dad’s here to provide.”

Charlie tapped the table with her nails. “I know, and you’ve really been such a help with all the chaos and the renovations.”

This sounded like someone being let down gently, right? This sounded like the bread of the compliment and criticism sandwich Charlie had made a poster of and which was hanging so proudly in the middle of the hotel lobby. The tea in his mug started rippling. Cup on table and hands in his lap it was.

Charlie babbled on. “But I mean… It’s just been…” She picks at her nails, gaze lowering.

And of course Charlie would have trouble with it, wonderful, empathetic Charlie. Of course she would have a hard time showing her old man the door, no matter how he fell short. And Lucifer, selfish, clinging Lucifer, wanted to interject, wanted to come up with any reason he should stay close, deserved to be in her orbit.

He opened his mouth to speak and found he couldn’t come up with anything. It almost knocked the breath out of him.

Charlie visibly steeled herself and Lucifer’s nails found his wrists, digging into himself just to stop himself from bolting. He owed her that. He could get weird about things when he got back to the palace.

“It’s just been… So wonderful to have you around. But I know it must be a lot, I… I talked to Vaggie about it, which I should’ve done earlier, really,” she half mumbled, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers, “and I- I didn’t realize, I guess I hadn’t even thought about it with how hectic all of it has been and everything that needed to be done…”

Charlie rambled on and Lucifer couldn’t for the life of him determine in what layer of the compliment sandwich they were right now.

It made him desperate enough to say, “It’s not a lot!”

Which was a lie, every day felt entirely too much of everything, but wasn’t that kind of a given when one went from a decade of self-imposed hermitage to everything; loud and bright and full? It was momentary, an adjustment period, something to just bite through.

Besides even if it didn’t get better, he’d still take it.

Charlie just chuckled. “Dad, it’s okay if it has been. I think it’s been a lot for everyone.”

Lucifer angled his fingers to feel something sharp, to keep tethered to something while Charlie was waving a pair of proverbial scissors around. 

“What I mean to say is,” she sighed, frustrated with herself or him, Lucifer couldn’t tell, “I really enjoy having you around, it feels- it just feels right.”

Lucifer stilled, trying to wrap his head around her words and their meaning.

“But I can also imagine that it’s quite a lot, moving into the hotel just because I asked you to, dropping everything for my dream, I mean…” She looked at him through her fringe, voice a little smaller. “I can tell you’re tired, sometimes. And the other residents would love to get to know you better now that you’re staying here.”

Staying here. Staying at the hotel, staying close to Charlie.

“I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve been a little unfair. I’ve been so focused on the hotel and the rebuilding and getting everything right that I’ve been asking too much of you.”

What?

“You- You haven’t been unfair, Charlie,” he was quick to correct, and Charlie just sighed with a smile.

“That doesn’t matter, dad, I just mean to say that I think it’s a good idea to take it a little easier the next few days. Your to-do list is hereby cleared.”

“What?”

“And I know how you are,” she waved a hand and Lucifer followed the nonchalant rise and fall of her fingers, “so don’t see it as a break break, you don’t have to sit still. That’s why I thought working on the library with Alastor would be a good idea. It’s creative, social,” she counts on her fingers, “and there’s no rush, it’s just something extra for the hotel. Something fun. No pressure.”

Lucifer was quick to nod, trying to keep up and ignoring the tingling in his fingertips.

“And I know Alastor isn’t your favorite person in the world, but he’s a good at what he does, and he’s been with me since the start of this hotel, so it’s kind of important to me. He isn’t… he’s a character but he’s helped me so much. Maybe this could be a chance to warm up to each other?”

Lucifer doubted it, Lucifer really, really doubted that him building a library with Alastor would do anyone any good, or if there would even be a library to show for at the end of it. But he had promised to support his daughter, had told her time and time again, anything she wants, it’s hers. And what she wanted right now was for him to put in some effort with one of the sinners she had collected. Yes, the worst one of the bunch by far, but at least ‘getting to know the other residents’ would be a walk in the park after surviving Alastor. Hopefully. He could do that. He could earn his place.

“You want me to…” he started, wanting to get it right, “work on the library with Alastor and socialize with… your friends.”

It made sense, of course it made sense, and he had been too blind to see it. He was her father, his actions reflected onto her as well. These people were her friends and more than that, she had a vested interest in keeping up good appearances for them.

“Yes! No!- I mean, I want you to take it easy and see the library as a fun project! You can work on it if you feel like it.”

Lucifer reckoned that he could have it done in about two days, if his co-hotelier stayed out of the way.

“And then maybe spend some time getting to know the others.” She frowned a little, faltering at her father’s lack of proper reaction.

“I mean,” she looked at him carefully, “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. You can-”

“No!” Lucifer threw up his hands. “It’s not- I can do that.”

Charlie reeled back a slightly, looking a little pained. “Dad, I’m not- What the fuck!?” Charlie exclaimed, shooting up from her chair mid-sentence. “You’re bleeding!”

And it wasn’t an accusation, and Lucifer didn’t even truly understand what was happening yet, hand on heart, but the first thing he did was shove his hands under the table. 

“I’m not!”

Which was a little silly to say, in retrospect, rose-golden droplets of ichor sailing through the air at sudden his movements.

She was on his side of the desk in a heartbeat, tugging at one of his elbows.

“Charlie, I’m- I’m fine- I-”

He was staining his pants.

“Are you okay? When did this happen?” Charlie’s words came out in a quick, breathless succession. “What- Did you just do that?”

Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, he hadn’t even noticed.

“No! I’m- I didn’t mean-”

Charlie wrenched his hand from his lap and flipped it over; the angry, golden lines on his wrist playing tattletales. It looked worse than it was.

“What- What were you doing!?”

Charlie seemed besides herself and Lucifer could hardly breathe.

“Charlie, dear, I- it’s fine, it will heal in a second-”

“While we were talking?”

Her voice wobbled and broke on the last work, incredulous and horrified. Lucifer didn’t know what to say, any voice or breath halted in his throat.

Apologize, he should apologize.

He healed himself instead. The gaps mended, leaving behind a charcoal-colored canvas for leftover angelic blood to trail curlicues over. His fingers twitched for his handkerchief, but Charlie was still holding his hand, was still looking at him like he was breaking her heart.

“Oh, golly,” Lucifer gasped, horrified at seeing his own hand tremble in his daughter's grasp, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Charlie tightened her grip on his hand. “Dad.”

Lucifer felt a little dizzy.

“Charlie.”

He thought, and it was more feeling than a thought, really, any thoughts he had were racing around in circles far too fast for him to decipher, that he might float away if Charlie let go of his hand right now.

“I’m fine.”

And it was a very weak phrase to come up with and offer; it had never worked on Lilith either. Charlie’s face pulled some of the same lines as hers had, in those moments.

“Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re fine when…What-” She searched for words, out of her depth suddenly having to take care of her father in a sickening reversal of roles. “You were harming yourself?”

Lucifer sat up straighter in an instant, desperately trying to blink through the fog. He shook his head sharply, which, admittedly, didn’t help the dizziness. “No, no, no- that- it’s not like that, Char. Really, I wouldn't, not with you-”

Wrong turn.

“Dad,” she beseeched, horrified, eyes wide, cheeks reddening, “oh my god.” She looked like she wanted to run her hand through her hair but was afraid to let go of his hand. She squeezed it tightly instead.

“Ah, no, that’s not- that’s not what I meant, I just,” he tried to put some laughter to his voice, “you know how your dad gets, always saying the wrong things.” 

He really should get his handkerchief, wipe off the blood still staining his skin, but he felt strangely outside of himself; like his body wouldn’t cooperate with him even if he tried.

“It’s not funny, dad.” Her voice shook before it broke.

“It was an accident, Char,” he tried to convince, tried to settle, “it’s healed, and it won’t happen again.”

Charlie’s bottom lip wobbled. 

“Oh, no, oh, Charlie, dear, I’m sorry. You- you don't need to worry about your old man, okay?” 

Charlie just shook her head and refused to let go of his hand, tears sparkling on her lashes. 

“Was it something I did?” 

Lucifer was pretty sure he could hear his heart split in two.

“No, no, sweetheart not at all, it could never be something you did. It just…” he heaved a breath, searching for words to explain to his distraught daughter what he wasn’t even sure he could explain to himself. “Dad wasn’t paying attention; it wasn’t on purpose. I’m sorry it scared you.” 

Charlie’s brows knotted together, gaze darting from his eyes back to his arm. Lucifer itched to roll the sleeve down. 

“Does this happen a lot?” 

“No!” He’s quick to assure, “it doesn’t, and there isn’t a… it’s not a… it’s not like it’s gonna scar, honey.” 

Her face crumbled and Lucifer despaired making another wrong turn. He finally made the claws of his other hand unclench the fabric of his pants, shakily digging into his pocket to produce his handkerchief, pink and frilly and the one Charlie had liked best when she had been just a girl. He needed to break eye contact for a second and felt himself grow even more ashamed than he already was. 

“That’s not the point,” Charlie said tightly, “you’re still hurting yourself.” 

Lucifer tried not to cringe at the wording, the pink fabric between his fingers staining warm gold.  

“It really isn’t like that, I just get distracted, is all.” 

He wiped away the blood, leaving clean, gray skin, which made him feel strangely claustrophobic. 

“Distracted?” 

“I’m not…” Lucifer started before cutting himself off quickly. She wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t be able to see how it was all different for him. “Your dad comes in a very sturdy case, Char. You’re worrying yourself over a papercut, meum corculum, one that’s healed now.”

He wiped over his arm again, trying not to be too harsh while Charlie was still holding onto him. He needed to get it together, let them move on.

“And look! All cleaned up too.” 

For the first time he actually tried to tug his arm away instead of just thinking about it and it only made Charlie’s grip firmer. She was shaking her head, looking down at their hands, his’ still shaking, ever shaking. She must have noticed that too, by now; a realization that made Lucifer feel ill. 

“You really don’t get it,” Charlie chided on a breath out. “How long- Does this happen a lot?” 

Lucifer flexed the fingers of his free hand, digging his nails into the handkerchief, which was of little relief. His breath was picking up, his goddamned, traitorous, useless lungs cramping in on themselves. He wheezed out something that could pass for a nervous laugh, he hoped.

“Can we- I don’t- can you let go of me, dear?” 

“Oh.”

Charlie’s porcelain fingers uncurled and gently floated away, and Lucifer was glad to see he hadn’t rubbed off any stains. She carded a hand through her hair. 

“Look, Charlotte,” Lucifer started, wishing he could just erase the last minutes entirely, wipe away any worry she was now hunched under. He was supposed to help here, alleviate some of the pressure, and now he’s just added to the weight of the day. He fought a grimace and tried to replace it with a gentle smile, something warm and dependable. “I understand why you’re worried, I’m really sorry I startled you. It was an accident and it looked worse than it was. It won’t happen again.” 

Charlie shook her head. 

“You keep saying the same thing.” There was something incredulous in that statement, an undercurrent of acrid hurt.

Lucifer squeezed the handkerchief. “What?” 

Charlie wiped the back of her hand against her left eye, a quick, almost frustrated motion.

“If you… If you don’t want to talk to me, I can’t make you, even if I feel like you should. Just know that… I’m here, okay, dad? Anything you’ve got to say, I’ll listen.” 

A breathtaking offer. Something too big and bright to even look at directly. And as this was something that was being asked of him, something she desired; Lucifer should be able to do the dance. But it was, Lucifer thought, not something she should be asking for, and sometimes people don’t quite understand what was best for them. And Charlie was strong with a heart too big for her own good but she was also just one person, such a young one at that, who was trying to make Hell, of all places, into something better. She always, ever since she was a little girl, tended to try and take on the troubles of others. A hotel filling up with willing participants now, and she really should learn where to spend her energy, not stay in her role of therapist for everyone all day, not burn herself out and stretch herself so thin there was barely anything left.

That’s what Lucifer feared the most, waking up one day to see his daughter let herself be consumed by a hope that never springs to truth, always leading her on and pulling her apart while the people she works so hard for cannibalize her good intentions. He didn’t think he could bear that.

So instead of taking her up on any of it, instead of answering her and letting her know he’d heard her and was taking it to heart, he tried to smooth it over, leaned on the superficial. 

“Charlie, it’s gone.”  

Teary eyed frustration. Charlie put her face in her hands for a short moment and Lucifer was about ready to start packing his bags. Then she righted herself with a deep breath, eyes darting around the room before landing on Lucifer’s hands in his lap.

Lucifer tried to meet her gaze. “I don’t want you to worry about me.” 

Something funny happened in her face then, a calculating draw of her brows, a thinning of lips. When her eyes shot back up to look Lucifer in the face something sharp flashed over her features, if only for a second. His co-hotelier came to mind unbidden. 

Her voice rang out solid determined. Fit for a princess. 

“Then make me a promise.”

Lucifer’s spine straightened, curiosity always killing the cat.

“A promise?”

Charlie looked him right in the eyes when she spoke.

“Promise me you will answer me honestly when I ask you how you are, so I don’t have to worry,” she offered, fair and imploring.

Lucifer tilted his head slightly, already seeing every line and gap in the proposal.  

“You won’t have to elaborate if you don’t want to, you can answer me honestly in a word or two, if that makes you feel better,” Charlie continued, “And I’ll try not to press, I just… It will just help me know where I stand. So.”

She held up a pinky, something they had invented when Charlie had been little, a playful mockery of the deals the Devil allegedly delights in. The last time they made a pinky promise must have been a century ago. 

“Charlie…”

She wasn’t backing down. “It will be for my peace of mind, okay? So I don’t have to guess.”

Lucifer didn’t like lying to her, didn’t wake up in the morning to think ‘let me be untruthful to my daughter today!’, but he had his reasons, as a father in this case, for avoiding certain questions. A pinky swear wasn’t binding, of course. It was just that, a promise on a gesture, a childish one at that.

Lucifer knew he’d be just as incapable of breaking it as any sinner would a soul contract. 

“Just…,” Charlie was still holding up her hand, some of her steely composure melting into something close to pleading. “Just let me have this.” 

Oh, the puppy dog eyes were coming out for this one. His daughter had made a weak man out of him, riddled with soft spots. 

Lucifer extended a pinky with a soft smile. 

“Okay, Char, I promise.” 

She locked them together with grateful relief and a smile like the sun breaking through the clouds. And then Charlie was crouching down so they were face to face and he could admire the soft dusting of freckles on her cheeks and the bright color of her eyes and-

Oh.

Arms around him.

Lucifer sat very, very still for a moment as Charlie’s warm embrace circled around him.

A hug.

A hug!

Quickly, because he had been lagging, he wrapped his arms around her, a hand sliding over her back in muscle memory.

Charlie released a breath and leaned the side of her head against his, something she had to bend even further for but that didn’t appear to bother her. Lucifer didn’t let go, never was the first to break up a hug, especially where Charlie was concerned. When she pulled away she did so softly, hands settling on his shoulders. 

“Thanks, dad. Take it easy the next few days?”

Lucifer nodded. 

“You too,” he reminded her, “I know you haven’t been taking proper breaks. Vaggie looks about ready to tear her hair out.” 

Charlie huffed on a laugh, face instantly fond at the mention of her girlfriend. 

“The hotel can’t run if the owner’s burnt out,” he chided her, smiling as he wagged a finger, trying to move on, away.

”Ha, yeah, I know, I know that.” 

She looked like she wanted to say more, was searching his face for something, but seemed to let whatever it was go after a few moments. She sighed, before righting herself and wiping her hands over her pants. She glanced at the clock on the opposite wall, eyes widening slightly. 

“Oh, it’s… I have to go,” she had the gall to look apologetic, “it’s almost time for the daily wind-down session.” 

She looked like she wanted to say more, like she was considering offering to stay. That wouldn’t do.

”Oh, psh,” Lucifer waved a hand, standing up to collect the cups left on the table. “The tea has gotten cold anyway. Go do what you need to do.”

Charlie watched him tidy the table for a moment before seemingly pushing down whatever it was she felt like she still needed to settle between them with a quick shake of her head. She walked around the desk and plucked her jacket from the back of her chair.

“Okay,” she nodded, more to herself than him. “Okay.”  

The teacups rattled slightly when he put them on the tray. “What are you doing for today’s session?” 

“Oh! We’re finger-painting!” Charlie explained enthusiastically, mind finally latching onto other things. “It’s accessible and you get to use colors and creativity without the stakes being too high. I mean, no one sets the bar too high when they’re finger painting! And when expectations are low it hopefully takes away any blocks or performance anxiety. It’s just for fun and unwinding.” 

Lucifer had already heard the complete version of what kind of pedagogical thinking went into the finger-painting sessions but he would be happy to hear her talk about it forever. 

“That sounds lovely, Char.” 

He magics the tray away with the flick of a hand.

“You could join, if you like?” Charlie offered kindly, almost tentatively. 

Lucifer waved her off and didn’t notice the slight fall of Charlie shoulders. “No need, maybe another time. Got other things to attend to.”

More than that, Charlie had already spent far too much time seeing to her father today. He didn’t include this in his reasoning, fearing she’d take it the wrong way.

Charlie raised a brow at him. Oh! Right.

”I’ll take it easy,” he waved his hand again, “as should you, for that matter.” 

Charlie laughed, seemingly genuinely tickled by that. 

“Yeah, okay sure. We’ll both take it easy.”