Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lucifer fiddled with his new ring. It felt just different enough from his old, gold band that twiddling it around his finger was a warm reminder of the sinner that now owned his heart and not his long-failed marriage. He brushed his thumb over the antlers embossed into the silver.

He sighed and desperately tried to tune back into the meeting. What an aggravation that heaven wanted to discuss politics when he wanted nothing more than to huddle away in his rooms and keep his fiancée safe. Not that he could ever say as much out loud. Alastor would rather tear his own tail off than admit that he was vulnerable. Even on a day like today.

It was annoying that Sera insisted on setting this up on extermination day.

Right. The meeting.

He listened back in as Heaven’s emissary spoke. It seemed Sera couldn’t be bothered to attend this meeting. Granted, it was Charlie who was the real face of Hell these days, so he didn’t really want to be here, either. He simply had too much paternal instinct to abide his daughter wandering the streets of Hell on extermination day. No, no, no. She could be two hundred or two thousand years old, he wasn’t putting her in the line of fire like that… Not again.

Five years after the failed extermination at the hotel and his little girl was finally living out her dream. Well… sort of.

With the resounding success of the Hazbin Hotel Heaven had become worried that malicious sinners would still find their way up past the pearly gates. The mechanics of how a soul obtained redemption were vague and nebulous enough that Sera was compelled to act, refusing to risk an influx of former Hellish citizens. So, with Charlie’s pushing (and a little strong-arming by Lucifer, himself) the whole system was changed. Instead of sinners meeting a very permanent end at the tip of an angelic spear their souls were now sent back to earth for a second chance at redemption.

Not a bad deal in Lucifer's eyes. A great way to recycle souls instead of having to form a bunch of new ones every year, and let's just ignore the fact that sinner souls were the ones flooding the Earth now- Hell's proverbial overflow. Well, it wasn’t his problem, and from what he’d heard, things couldn’t get much worse on Earth anyways.

That isn't to say there wasn't a catch. All recycled souls got a full reset. No memories of their first life or subsequent afterlife. Charlie had rebelled against that caveat. What was the point of the trust exercises, therapy, and self-improvement provided by the hotel if none of the resident’s would remember the lessons learned?

Sera hadn’t seemed to care.

But it was better than death, right?

Charlie maintained that there had to be some kind of good to be had in trying, and Lucifer wasn’t going to discourage her. Never again. He would fall backwards off a rickety wooden platform as many times as she wanted, and if he happened to fall into the surprisingly warm arms of a certain Radio Demon then that was his reward for being such a good sport.

He wondered if Alastor would be willing to fall into his arms when he got back to the hotel.

Right! The meeting!

The emissary was prattling on about… uhh… statistics on Hell’s growing population? Or was it Heaven's? That would be a good sign, wouldn’t it? If more people were going up than down? Lucifer plastered on a polite smile as if he had been listening the whole time, and the emissary… Oh what was her name? Carly? Carol? Camille? Oh no. He had done it again. He’d just have to take all the paperwork back later and look through it by himself. He had never been very good at audible learning, not when all the knowledge he was ever supposed to know was pre-programmed into the very fiber of his being. What use did an archangel have for math?

None really, until they fall and have a whole realm thrust upon them.
He’d much rather have Alastor thrust-

Right… The meeting…

Lucifer sighed again, and if Carla(?) knew that she might as well be talking to a brick wall then at least she had the decency to pretend otherwise.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a moving shadow. He turned to smile warmly at the very welcome distraction. This wouldn’t be the first time Alastor had crashed one of his meetings via Ansel. And yes, Lucifer named his partner's shadow. It was a fine name, thank you very much, and more appropriate than calling it “Shadow” or “that thing” as Alastor had been doing. An awfully rude way to treat a piece of one’s own soul in Lucifer’s opinion.

Al knew very well how distractible the king was, and if anyone could understand the need for entertainment in a dull moment it was The Radio Demon. Having Ansel blowing him kisses and mocking... Corrine(??) with rude gestures would make this go much faster.

Lucifer’s smile dropped the moment he got a good look at Ansel moving anxiously along the wall.

He wasn’t smiling.

Something was very wrong.

Lucifer immediately hopped out of his seat, startling whatsherface before opening a portal to the outer doors of the embassy. Without a backwards glance at the surprised meeting attendees, Lucifer leapt through the shimmering portal with Ansel hitching a ride on his shadow. He looked down at Ansel, panic rising in his chest.

“Show me where he is!”

The shadow took off, and Lucifer unfurled his wings to keep up. His fear spiked each time Ansel’s form rippled - as if he was barely able to maintain his shape. They raced through the city ignoring the slaughter around them. Exterminator angels knew better than to confront the King of Hell, understanding full well they’d be splattered across the pavement with a single thought, treaty be damned.

They couldn't move fast enough. A flurry of worst-case scenarios flitted through the Devil's mind, and his eyes bled to a glowing red.

Ansel turned a sharp corner and there in a dingy alleyway was Alastor - or what was left of him, at least. He lay shredded and crippled in a heap, the expanding pool of dark blood beneath him seeping into the cracks of the cement to make a macabre mosaic. Lucifer gasped, rushing to his side, mind in a full-blown panic.

“No, no, no, no, no! This isn’t happening! Alastor! Al, sweetheart, look at me!”

The sinner cracked open his eyes, his breathing ragged and blood pouring from his mouth. The radio static that always surrounded him sounded faint and broken, like the volume had been turned down low and he couldn't find a channel. It skipped with every shuddering breath.

“Took you… long enough… my dear,” he croaked, his voice raspy and choked.

He coughed and blood splattered across Lucifer’s pristine, white suit. The king didn’t give a damn. He gently cradled Alastor’s head, resting it on his lap.

“Don’t talk, okay? You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine! Just hold on, okay?”

There’s so much blood…

Lucifer willed his voice to be as calm and reassuring as possible. His hands shook as he cut open his own wrist, deeper than strictly necessary, but he was taking no chances. He put his bleeding arm to Alastor’s mouth, gently opening his jaw to let the golden ichor flow down his throat to heal him…

But it didn’t…

The golden blood started to flow down the front of Alastor’s shirt, the shining rivulets mixing with deep red. His throat had been cut, Lucifer’s lifeblood spilling out alongside the demon’s own, useless...

Alastor coughed again, choking on the liquid flowing into his lungs. Lucifer whimpered as tears started to flow down his cheeks, desperation clawing at his insides like a rabid animal, a chant of no, no, no, no, no ringing through his head.

His demon, his beautiful, snarky, awe-inspiring sinner was dying, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Al, baby, stay with me! You’re okay! You’re tougher than this, you just have to fight, okay? Please, love! You just gotta reconstitute. Just focus on that! If you can get your throat healed, I can help with the rest!”

An annoyed blat of static didn’t so much pierce the air as it warbled around the two.

“Do be quiet… I’m trying to die… in peace.”

“Ha! You’re such a kidder! Leave it to you to make jokes when I’m just trying to save your life. Hahaha! That’s how I know you’re okay! You’re gonna be okay!”

Lucifer pressed a quivering hand to Alastor's throat not knowing how to stop the blood without cutting off his lover's air.

“Mon… Ange…” His voice cut through Lucifer’s manic rambling despite each word sounding like nothing more than a faint gasp. He reached up to grasp the angel’s hand in a weak hold, interlocking their fingers. Lucifer felt the cold metal of Alastor's engagement ring. "Find… Me…”

His body fell still.

Alastor’s static hum faded into silence, and Ansel caressed Lucifer’s cheek with an ephemeral claw. The shadow bent down as if to kiss their joined hands, phantom lips imparting a sensation of calm before dissipating in a shimmering ripple..

Lucifer held his breath, listening close, looking for another labored rise and fall of his love’s chest…

But none came.

All across Pentagram City exterminators, sinners, hellborn, and overlords alike put their hands up to cover their ears as a deafening, polyphonic screech ripped through the air.

Chapter Text

Lucifer was curled up in his bed feeling utterly useless. Buried in a pile of pillows, blankets, and duck plushies, no amount of softness and warmth could seep more than skin deep. Alone in the dark he had run out of tears to shed, and was now teetering on the edge of the gaping chasm of depression.

He had been here before. It was a familiar sight. Just like staring down into the pit he had created after his fall, surrounded by nothing but sulfur, ash, and red skies.

In his mind's eye he stepped a little closer to the precipice. The temptation to fall again… the call of the void threatening... Just one more step and-

A soft knock against his door pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Charlie walked in without invitation carrying a tray of his favorite snacks and a carafe of water. She placed it on his nightstand, sending Razzle away with her previous, untouched offering.

It was Charlie who had been able to reach him in his rage in the aftermath of the extermination. She had found him in that alleyway out of his mind with grief, fully transformed into his eldritch form and snarling like a rabid beast at anyone who dared approach, hunched over and defending Alastor’s lifeless body. Only the sight of his little girl had been able to break through the haze.

Everything after that had felt like a blur. Flying back to the hotel on Razzle’s back, Charlie gently lifting Alastor’s body out of his arms, and Vaggie leading him to his rooms to clean him up. He had been in the darkness ever since, and how long had that been? Hours? Days?

He felt Charlie sit on the edge of the bed and place a hand over his huddled form over the blankets.

“Dad? Are you awake?”

Was he? He sure hoped not. He desperately wished that this was another one of his vivid nightmares, and that he would wake up with his face buried in the fluff of Alastor’s chest. He could almost feel those long, slender fingers carding through his hair, soft lips pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He could hear the gentle sound of jazz and static, and a sleep roughened voice whisper,”Bad dreams, mon ange?”

But this wasn’t a dream.

Lucifer forced himself to sit up.

Charlie crawled closer, taking him in her arms. He felt the wetness on her cheeks soak into the fabric of his shirt, but her embrace was solid and comforting.

Ah, yes. She had lost him, too. He was being a bad father by wallowing in misery, not even taking her grief into account. He really couldn’t do anything right, could he?

His arms slid weakly around her waist.

“I’m so sorry, Dad. This shouldn’t have happened.”

He nodded. What was there to say to that? Of all the strife Lucifer had endured in his impossibly long life, the death of a loved one was a new kind of pain. That was the benefit of ruling a realm of immortal souls. One of the reasons he never got close to any of the lesser hellborn or sinners. Their lives were so fragile. Lucifer would exist until God decided they were bored of this whole universe business, and wrapped everything up in the blink of an eye. He was a permanent fixture in an ever changing reality, and he was fully unequipped to deal with the repercussions.

“He’ll be back, though… I spoke with Sera. His soul is queued up to be reborn.”

Lucifer tensed. That’s right.

Find… Me.

He pulled back from his daughter’s arms.

“Charlie… He wanted-” his voice cracked from disuse,”He told me he wanted me to find him before he-” he couldn’t bring himself to finish that particular sentence.

“That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about. Heaven wants to make amends for the pain this has caused you. They’ve agreed to let you go to earth. You’ll be allowed to live there as long as he’s alive.”

Hope and reluctance warred in this head.

“But sweetie, I can’t leave you here,” he pushed a stray lock of her hair back into place. He took his first good look at her. There were bags under her eyes, and she seemed older than her ageless appearance let on. ”You’ve not learned everything I need to teach you about ruling Hell. If I go I could be gone for decades. Who will take care of you if I’m not here? I promised myself I’d never abandon you again, and as much as I love Alastor, you’re always my first priority.”

Her expression turned sympathetic if a little appeasing,“Dad, I want you to go.”

“But-”

“I can do this. You’ve taught me so much already, and it’s not like I’ll be entirely alone. I have Vaggie, and I know if the situation were reversed you would want me to go, too,” she reached to put his hands into her own. “I’ve seen how much happier you’ve been since Alastor came into your life. Your smile is real, you’re more present and not just physically. I don’t want to lose you, too…”

She was right. Alastor had a way of pulling him out of his own mind unlike anyone he had ever known. He had never entirely stopped his royal duties taking care of Hell. He had kept up appearances, taking interviews, posing for magazines, and doing the bare minimum to keep things functioning, but he had become a new man after striking up an unlikely friendship with the sinner. Gone were the days of locking himself away in his workshop, drowning himself in rubber ducks. No longer did he isolate himself from the ones who cared about him most.

He took a deep breath-
1, 2, 3, 4…
And let it out-
1, 2, 3, 4…
“Okay… But I want to say goodbye.”

***

Seeing Alastor’s remains was harder than he expected. Charlie had him placed in a spare room, and someone had obviously come by to make him presentable. His ever present smile was soft, almost just as it looked when he slept. How many times had Lucifer stayed awake at night just to witness his lover look so uncharacteristically unguarded. It felt wrong for everyone else to see him like this.

“We didn’t want to do anything with him until you were ready,”Charlie said, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Lucifer nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Alastor’s hands were crossed over his chest, the left one on top. The apple shaped ruby of his engagement ring sparkled even in the dim overhead light of the room. Lucifer had crafted it himself with a mixture of raw materials and angelic magic.

With shaking hands he slipped it off his love’s finger.

“I’ll be giving this back to you, understand? You’re not getting out of it that easily,” he promised, voice just above a whisper.

Lucifer had been ready to marry Alastor since their second year of dating. He remembered his first time proposing had ended in their first real fight. He really should have known better than to spring marriage on possibly the most meticulous and independent man to ever grace the realms without talking about it beforehand, but The King of Hell was nothing if not a hopeless romantic with a flair for the dramatic.

Things had just been going so well, and marriage is what you did when you loved someone that much, right?

Lucifer had made the misguided error of enlisting Charlie’s help, and the proposal was showy, with a more than healthy dose of roses, candles, and even a couple confetti cannons all smack in the middle of the hotel lobby.

Alastor came home from visiting Rosie, and had frozen in shock as he took it all in. He clutched his microphone in both hands, holding it in front of himself almost defensively, his smile tightening.

“What’s all this?” He asked, as his eyes finally landed on Lucifer.

“Alastor Rousseau, ever since you’ve come into my life you’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible. Your wit and energy have woken me up, made me feel more alive than I have in millenia. I want to spend forever with you.” Lucifer got down on one knee, and a loud shriek of feedback split the air as the sinner’s eyes turned black and his ears pinned to the back of his head.

“Stop this at once!”

The angel looked like he had just been shot.

“Wait… but… I thought-”

“I don’t know what you thought, but it was wrong if it led you to the conclusion that I want to be your- your… emotional support animal for the rest of existence!” He snarled, taking a step back. Shadows started to swirl around his feet as he prepared to retreat.

“That’s not what I meant! I don’t see you like that!”

Lucifer stumbled to his feet, meaning to stop him from leaving, but before he could do anything Alastor vanished, his shadowy form rushing out the door.

The confetti cannons, which Cherri had helped him rig to a timer, went off. Tiny pieces of paper floated through the air until they met with the candles and started to catch fire. Lucifer stood there frozen in the middle of the burning lobby until the other residents started to panic, and the sprinklers went off.

A small, sad smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as he remembered that disastrous day. They had overcome so much since then, and he thought with renewed confidence that maybe if they could leap those hurdles they could leap this one, too.

Lucifer slipped the ring onto his right hand, the enchantment he’d woven into the metal to accommodate Alastor’s shifting size working to fit his finger perfectly.

Charlie walked up behind him then,”Do you know what he'd like done with his remains?”

He didn’t. Alastor was prideful enough to assume he would keep going as long as hell existed, and therefore they had never discussed it. He had an idea, though.

Closing his eyes, Lucifer used his angelic power of creation. His eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he broke apart the very building blocks of his lover’s body, forming it into something new. He thought hard about each individual shape and component, and in a burst of golden magic it was done.

A radio sat on the bed where the body had been. The wood that made up its casing was the same deep crimson of Alastor’s hair, the knobs and buttons were charcoal black, and the speaker was in the shape of his signature smile.

Charlie let out a watery laugh,”That’s a little morbid, but he would absolutely love it.”

Together they moved the radio to sit on a table right in front of Sir Pentious’ portrait.

***

Three Months Later

Lucifer stood in his human disguise outside the glass wall of the hospital nursery. He’d had three months to prepare for this moment. Well, and quite a few other things. The last three months had been a flurry of meetings, paperwork, and readying Charlie to rule the entirety of Hell in his stead. The Sins and Goetia had been informed. Bee was particularly excited to see Charlie come into her own. She had thrown a huge party the week before, hosted in the hotel so that all the residents could attend.

He hadn’t felt much like celebrating, but he put on a smile and made himself stay the entire night. It was the least he could do for his little - Well… not so little anymore - girl. Alastor would be proud.

He had made sure to pay a special visit to all the overlords, promising righteous fury if he came back from his “vacation” and saw a single hair touched on her perfect, blonde head. Vox had been oddly compliant. Of all the overlords he had expected to revel in Alastor’s death, the TV demon had been at the top of his list. Instead he seemed… tired. Perhaps that old friendship had run deeper than Lucifer thought because he hadn’t even broadcast the news of his rival’s demise, for which the king was grateful. He didn’t think he could relive it anymore than he already did in his mind.

By the time he was done with preparations he was exhausted. A down to the bone weariness that he made himself fight. He didn’t want Charlie to worry about him when she had so much on her plate already. Each night he laid down in bed alone and gazed over the pit in his mind, and struggled with the urge to jump. There was too much to do, he couldn’t break down now…

Stress wound so tightly around his brain that it left him restless. Most nights he wandered down to the kitchens to make himself a cup of tea in Alastor’s “Oh Deer!” mug. This particular night he took a seat by the fire, and took small, fortifying sips as he watched the dancing flames.

Ten thousand years ago you filled that pit with the seven rings. Get a hold of yourself. You can rebuild again. Hopefully soon.

It wasn’t long after a messenger from heaven notified Charlie that Alastor’s soul was ready to be reborn. Lucifer packed everything he might need in a pocket dimension, and had one last tearful goodbye with his daughter.

“Remember what I told you-”

“I know, dad. Don’t take shit from other demons.”

He smiled, pulling her into a hug.

“I’d like to amend that. Don’t take shit from anyone. I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too, dad.”

He reluctantly let go and stepped through the portal.

Which brought him here, dressed in nurses scrubs and staring at a very new baby through the window.

He didn’t quite know how to feel about it, honestly. It was hard to imagine his intelligent, vivacious, dangerous sinner as this itty-bitty human. He clutched the clipboard he had picked up (he had to make this nurse get up convincing, alright?) in his hands tightly enough that the plastic cracked from the strain.

He had prepared for this moment, but what now?

Alastor was an infant, small and more fragile than Lucifer had ever seen him. The angel’s heart leapt into his throat. What would happen if he died now? By some awful accident or illness? He didn’t know! He had already fallen by the time humans started making babies. He hadn’t been part of that decision making process! And what if something happened to him in the next few short years? All young children went straight to heaven, no questions asked! No matter how many mean jokes they made on the playground or cookies they stole from the cookie jar! Then not only would Lucifer lose Alastor forever, but he could imagine his lover’s indignation at being trapped in a small, cute body for the rest of eternity - a little fawn until the stars burned out and the universe went cold. No, no, no he would wring Lucifer’s neck if that happened, maybe bite his whole head off and swallow it down in one sharp snap of his jaws.

Except he wouldn’t really, would he?

The Radio Demon was gone.

“Find me,” he had said, but that person was gone. His soul now swaddled in a light blue blanket, an entirely blank slate ready for whatever gifts or horrors this life may offer him. This baby may have Alastor’s soul, but he could never be Alastor, could he?

“Is he okay??” a voice from beside Lucifer startled him out of his thoughts. A pretty woman with dark skin and curly, chestnut hair stared at him, tired eyes wide with worry.

“Uh… What?” he replied intelligently.

“You’re staring at my baby like something is wrong. Is something wrong with my baby??”

Right! He’s supposed to be a nurse right now! And he was meeting Alastor’s mom! And he was blowing it!!!

“Oh! I’m so sorry! No, yes. No nothing wrong with him! Sorry! Uh, 12 hour shift. I just zoned out looking over his paperwork. He’s perfectly healthy, little-” Lucifer looked at the chart on the broken clipboard that blessedly did have Alastor’s chart, ”Oh, you haven’t picked a name yet… Mrs. Abernathy. Any ideas?”

Despite her initial concern, Alastor’s- well… no-named baby’s mother’s expression warmed. “Just Ms. Abernathy, but you can call me Dorothy, thank you,” she corrected, “But I’ve been tossin’ around a few in my head,” her rich, southern accent suffused her voice now that she let her guard down.

“Oh? Like what? Maybe I can help you choose,” Lucifer offered. That was something nurses did, right?

“Hmm… I want him to have a strong name. Somethin’ like… Michael, maybe?”

Lucifer choked on his own spit, “Oh noooo! Not Michael!”

She looked at him like he had grown two heads before laughing,”Why not Michael? I thought it was kinda nice and respectable.”

How did he explain to this woman that he would rather be damned all over again than call out his least favorite brother’s name in the throes of passion? Even if it did seem like an ever dwindling chance that Alastor would ever be his again, and Lucifer would rather not have any of those thoughts at all with Al in this state. If it happened at all that was a loooong way off.

So he lied,”Oh! I just knew a guy named Michael in college. He was awful. He even stabbed a guy and threw him off a ledge!”

Okay, a half lie.

“My goodness! What a story! Alright then, not Michael.”

Lucifer breathed a sigh of relief, and Dorothy hummed to herself contemplatively.

After a moment of silence, Lucifer dared to suggest it.

"What about Alastor? It’s a strong, respectable name, and you’d even get some cool alliteration with your last name.”

Could he even hope that it could be that simple?

“That’s kinda unique… I like it! Alastor Abernathy! Kinda sounds like a TV show host.”

Oh, she was so close to the truth. Lucifer could imagine Past Alastor getting a kick out of this. He’d be grateful that he’d get to keep his name. Maybe if (and it was an “if” now) he was sent back to Hell, he wouldn’t even have to start from scratch. He could ride off whatever reputation The Radio Demon left behind. And Lucifer’s, but if this Alastor were anything like his, he’d turn his nose up at the very idea of riding on the king’s coattails.

“Happy to help,” he replied before he noticed that she looked increasingly exhausted.

“Hey! You just had a baby! Maybe you should go lie down! What are you even doing up, anyway?” He lended her an arm, and walked her back to the room specified on the paperwork he had been slowly crinkling in his hands. Damn his nervous quirks.

“Oh, you know, they told me I should get up an’ walk a little once I felt up to it.”

Was that true? Lucifer didn’t know. It’s not like he was a real nurse. He led Dorothy back to her room and assured her someone would be in soon to check on her, and as he wandered back to the nursery window to contemplate his options he came to a decision.

He supposed he’d just have to protect Alastor until he was old enough to be told the truth about his identity. Surely nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan! No leap in logic here!

Fuck… I’m in over my head…

There was no way of knowing what came next for Alastor Abernathy, but he knew Alastor, The Radio Demon had given him a task with his dying breath. He had to believe he had done that for a reason. He always had some kind of trick up his sleeve.

Lucifer sighed, looking down at Baby Al. This seemed like a trick that even The Radio Demon couldn’t pull off. He supposed only time would tell.

He saw a faint, dark smudge on the window he hadn’t noticed before right in his line of view. He frowned and tried to wipe it away with his sleeve until it moved. His heart leapt into his throat as he realized what he was looking at.

“ANSEL?”

***

“This wasn’t the plan, Lilith,” Sera scolded, pacing back and forth across her office, ”I sent you down there to retrieve him. He wasn’t supposed to be killed.”

“It’s out of our hands now,” Lilith retorted, arms crossed and lounging in a chair, cool and collected,” and besides we got what we wanted. Perhaps even better. Now Lucifer will be out of the picture for an entire human lifetime.”

“That puts the situation out of our control. Anything could happen to that demon, and we’d be right back at square one.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I know Lulu, and he’ll make sure nothing happens to that boy. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t die of old age.” Her face screwed up in a sneer.

Chapter Text

Calling anything in creation “divine” seemed a little redundant from Lucifer’s perspective. He’d had a front row seat to the construction of the universe and an active hand in many of the details. Everything was divine in the literal sense, so using the word as a compliment had always irked him. Chalk it up to daddy issues.

But the experience of sitting in the sun for the first time in ages, the crisp, mountain breeze chilling his skin and ruffling his hair… He was struggling to think of a more fitting description. Sure, he was occasionally summoned to Earth by some enterprising human, but those moments were strictly business, and usually involved a dingy basement and more blood than was enjoyable. This, though… the blue sky above, full of fluffy clouds, golden rays caressing his feathers… He hadn’t felt this since The Garden.

The town nestled at the base of the Appalachians where Baby Al now lived was as far removed from Hell as Lucifer could imagine. It was quaint; small and out of the way enough that they were surrounded by forests for miles, but not so far from the nearest major city as to be entirely dull.

Lucifer perched, in his dove form, in a tree outside the window of Alastor’s nursery and thought about his plans for the future. Keeping a child safe was something he had done before. Sort of… One of his greatest failures was the distance he had allowed Lilith to put between himself and Charlie. How many nights had he spent wallowing in guilt because of it? If he counted all his Charlie themed duckies he’d have a rough estimate.

This almost felt like his own second chance. Not to be a parent, though. Oh, no, no, no. He knew he couldn’t have an active role in Alastor’s childhood without crossing some serious boundaries. He’d have to watch from afar, that was for sure, but he would be there to protect him from whatever may come.

That did beg the question. How far should he intervene in Alastor’s life? There were plenty of hardships and dangers even here on Earth. Surely it wouldn’t be healthy to shelter him from them all? Humans needed stressors and adversity to develop properly, and yet Lucifer struggled to ignore Baby Al’s cries. How fortunate that he was so quiet.

The angel glanced down, seeing that Alastor had woken up from his nap, the only indication were his soft grunts and little, kicky feet.

Something else Lucifer struggled with was cuteness aggression. “Unholy hell!!! You’re just so goddamn cute!!! I just wanna eat your little cheeks like om nom nom nom!” His feathers bristled, and he bounced from foot to foot.

Ansel, hovering on the trunk of the tree, crossed his arms, looking as unimpressed as a shadow possibly could.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that! Come on, even you have to admit that you’re adorable like this. I just wanna get my hands around that little head and squeeeeeze!”

Ansel put his head in his hands, positively agonized.

He was smaller now, and had seemingly lost the ability to become tangible or interact with the world physically; however, he made up for it in sass. He couldn’t speak, but in the past few days since Dorothy had come home from the hospital with Baby Al, he and Lucifer had established some kind of limited communication via charades, and oh-ho boy - Lucifer was bad at charades. Ansel’s gestures would get bigger and more exaggerated as the king desperately tried to put words to the movements. More often than not it ended in harmless, shadowy teeth trying to bite into Lucifer’s skin in frustration.

“Okay, okay, message received. You never did like it when I called you cute… Even if it was true,” he added, mumbling under his breath. Ansel merely rolled his eyes.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile fondly. Having Ansel was quite literally like having a piece of Alastor back, bickering and all - even if it was non-verbal. He didn’t entirely understand how the small, severed piece of Alastor’s soul had survived the extermination, but the relief he felt after finding the little shadow in the hospital had nearly bowled him over. He’d had just enough presence of mind to portal away before falling to the ground and hugging Ansel to him - more like clutching his own chest with the shadow nestled into his shirt.

Their attention was pulled from each other as Dorothy entered the room to pick Baby Al up out of his crib.

Lucifer had to admire the woman. She seemed to be raising her baby alone in this small house in the woods.

Sorry Al. Two lifetimes and it seems you still can’t get a decent father.

He watched as she bounced Baby Al in her arms and cooed at him. She made her way out of the nursery, closing the door behind her.

That line of thought brought him back around to his conundrum, and he turned back to Ansel.

“How am I supposed to do this “guardian angel” thing? Heaven usually assigns Cherubs to watch over souls they think may become important, so I should be overqualified.”

Ansel pointed to Lucifer before making his head grow out of proportion to his body. He huffed a static crackle that passed for a snicker.

“Are you - hey! It’s not just me getting a big head! I am an archangel, even if I’ve fallen, but it’s not like I was sent here with an instruction manual. Am I really just supposed to sit outside the house like a peeping Tom, waiting for something bad to happen? Surely that can’t be right.”

Ansel sneered before turning his head into a box with two little antennae sticking out of the top, then he waved his arms in front of him in a negative fashion. (Don’t be like Vox.) His face turned back to normal, and he ran a finger across his throat. (I’ll kill you when I find out.)

“Watching too much TV will kill me? I mean, sure, it scrambles the brain, but come on Ans, stay on topic here.” Ansel scrubbed his hands down his face in defeat. “I’m really torn! I need to make sure to keep this version of you safe, but I can’t just stay outside your window for years! But I can’t just leave, what if something happens?! I need to be here, but-” Ansel clamped his hand around Lucifer’s beak, and though the angel couldn’t feel it, this particular gesture was unmistakable.

“You’re right. I need to calm down.” He took a deep breath, and tried to order his racing thoughts. “As much as I want to be around Alastor, it wouldn't be healthy for either of us right now. I’ll want to overstep and fix even the smallest of problems, and he could end up spoiled, or sheltered, or he could… I don’t know, imprint on me. Is that something humans do?”

Ansel shook his head, then wobbled his hand in a so-so motion. (Not how you’re imagining it, but sort of.) He let Lucifer go on.

“So, what if I just put a ward around him instead? It could warn me whenever he’s in distress or if there’s imminent danger, and then alakazam! I’m there when he needs me, and I don’t have to be a creepy stalker like that Box guy!”

Ansel slumped down on the branch, letting out a small shriek of feedback, but gave Lucifer a thumbs up.

That night as Baby Al slept Lucifer appeared before his crib. Chanting softly in Enochian, the angel drew a symbol in glittering, golden magic on his forehead. As he finished, it faded into the baby’s skin, and Lucifer felt the link in the back of his mind, calm and lax.

“I’ll be there when you need me, Al,” he promised in the faintest whisper.

***

Now what? Freed from the burden of watching Baby Al 24/7, Lucifer didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He wanted to stay close by, but he had never had the opportunity to actually live in the human realm. Sure, he had snuck down to The Garden once in a while to visit Lilith pre-fall, but now he had nothing but time to spare.

He sat with his head in his hands on the edge of a large pond he’d discovered a few miles into the forest surrounding Alastor’s house. His thoughts swirled and eddied like the water running down the mountain creek, pooling in formless shapes before washing away.

He had always had a purpose. First it was helping construct the universe - filling the void with light and energy, and sending each galaxy spinning away in an explosion of pure creative force. Then he was put to use on the smaller details - individual star systems and planets until one day God wanted to make something more important than ever before.

Lucifer had always considered his time designing life for Eden as the happiest time of his existance. Well… At least the least complicated. It was hard to beat the memory of holding his daughter for the first time. But those endless hours of pure creation, being allowed to let his unruly brain run wild, nothing could truly compare.

He tapped into his tainted angelic grace, pulling it from his core. Golden light shimmered for a long moment before a rubber duck plopped into the water, lazily bobbing in the current. Lucifer didn’t care to hold back the choked sob wrenched from his throat.

Why do I ever think it will turn out different?

This was part of his punishment. He had lost the ability to breathe life into his creations after he had fallen and been given his new purpose of ruling Hell. All that was left to him now were imitations of his former glory. He could create anything he could dream of, but not life, at least not without a hefty sacrifice from his own body. He couldn’t heal without offering blood, couldn’t make creatures without flesh. It had taken decades of trial and error before he and Lilith managed to conceive Charlie, and only because he had carried her himself, much to Lilith’s resentment.

So what could he possibly do now all alone with only one responsibility that demanded he keep his distance, and at least a couple decades of time to just… be? Who was he without an assigned reason to exist? He layed back on the ground, looked up at the night sky, and continued to let his thoughts drift.

***

Lucifer was a few months into moping - having taken up residence in the pond in his duck form - when the warning glyph rang in his head for the first time. In an instant he teleported to the tree outside Alastor’s nursery, scrambling to hold onto the branch with his webbed feet until he had the presence of mind to turn back into a dove. The first thing he noticed was an unfamiliar, beat up car in the driveway, and the sounds of yelling coming from further inside the house. His heart leap into his throat

Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I do?

In a cloud of red and gold magic he turned into a mouse, and popped back into existence inside the house. He could just hear Alastor crying over the sound of his mother’s raised voice. He skittered down the hallway, and her words became more clear as Lucifer got closer.

“You don’t get to walk back in here like you didn’t up and leave us high and dry, John! You done lost your goddamn mind if you think you can act like that didn’t happen!”

From his position on the floor Lucifer could see Dorothy facing a man, lanky and covered in tattoos. She had placed herself between Baby Al, laying in his bouncer, and the man Lucifer could only assume was his father.

“Aww, come on, Dot. I just got scared is all. I’m sorry, princess, but can you blame me? My whole life got flipped upside down when you told me you were knocked up. I needed to take some time - let the news settle in. It was a lot to put on a man all at once.” He took a step forward, putting a hand on her arm in an attempt to be soothing. Dorothy flinched away.

“It’s been nearly a year! A year, John! And don’t blame me for what you did. You chose to miss out on this! You walked away! And even if you hadn’t, my son deserves better than some washed up, drug addict of a father.” She stood her ground while Alastor wailed behind her. The sound of it made Lucifer’s heart clench in his chest. He had to get this guy out of here, but how?

“Baby, don’t say that. Let me come back and take care of you and little Jonathan.” He advanced on her again, cupping her head in his hands. She pushed against him, angry tears streaming down her face.

“That’s not his name. Just go… please. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“Come on, princess, you know you can’t say no to me. You need me. Hasn’t this been hard, doin’ it all by yourself? I promise I can make it all so much easier for you.”

“I- I can’t… not again. Please, please just-”

Knock knock knock

They froze, turning toward the door.

Knock knock knock knock knock

“Who the fuck is at the door, Dorothy?” John glared at her accusingly before stalking over to the door and swinging it open. On the other side stood a police officer, or more specifically, Lucifer in a police uniform.

“Can I fuckin’ help you, officer?” John asked, hands braced on either side of the doorframe, blocking the way inside.

Holy shit the nerve of this guy.

Lucifer cleared his throat, placing his hands on his hips, resting his left just above his gun holster - a move that did not go unnoticed by Alastor’s father. “We received a noise complaint - a report of possible domestic violence. Just checking to see if everything is okay here.” Dorothy quietly moved into view, fear in her eyes as she met Lucifer’s gaze. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

John wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulders. “She’s fine. Just a little lover’s spat, right princess?” Dorothy nodded, but her stiff posture and pleading gaze told a different story.

“Ma’am, this is your property, is that correct?” Another silent nod, and Lucifer narrowed his eyes at John. “I think it’s best for all parties involved if we take a little step away, don’t you?”

“I think I don’t gotta go nowhere.”

Lucifer sighed, and looking up above the door he saw Ansel pointing toward the rundown Honda in the driveway, making a smoking motion before stumbling around drunkenly.

Huffing exhaust fumes? No… wait. Oh. OH!

“Ha! You’re a ballsy guy, so how about this? You get out of here, or I bring a few of my buddies and make a sweep of the property. Maybe poke around with detection dogs just to see what they find.” He tilted his head in the direction of the vehicle, and the shit eating grin finally fell from John’s face, as did his arm from Dorothy’s tense frame. He turned to her, speaking just above a whisper, ”I’ll be back, you hear me?” The fear in her eyes confirmed that she believed him.

He stalked off toward his car, getting in and slamming the door before peeling away, leaving Lucifer and Dorothy standing on the front stoop. The angel finally breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Alastor begin to calm. “Is there anything else I can do for you today, ma’am?”

She still looked wary of him. He wondered why.

“No officer, I think that will be all today, thank you…” She went to turn back into the house but stopped. “Who put in the noise complaint? We’re miles from the next house over.”

“Oh! Uh… Just some teenagers wandering through. They heard yelling and the baby - wanted to make sure everything was okay. Gives you a little hope for the next generation, huh?” He stopped himself from fidgeting with the snaps on his belt.

So much for being the Father of Lies…

Dorothy softened, the strain easing from her shoulders if only a little. “Thank God for good neighbors.”

Oh of course God gets all the credit.

His brows knit together. Dorothy reminded him far too much of Eve before the apple. Too sweet, too good, and only a hint of the fierce defiance that she would gain later in life. He suddenly wondered how old the woman was. “You just let us know if he gives you any more trouble, okay? You don’t have to handle him all by yourself.”

She glanced at him skeptically, “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good day officer,” and shut the door. Lucifer couldn’t blame her. People like John had a knack for burying themselves in their partner’s psyche - getting under their skin until they believed there was no escape. It had happened with Lilith near the end. The way he felt he had to bend to her whims and change his very being just to keep her appeased had broken him for a long time.

Lucifer sighed, shaking the memories from his head. He glanced back up at Ansel, still hovering above the door frame. “It’s looking more and more like I’m going to have to brush up on my acting skills. You saved me there.” The shadow nodded, humming with smug satisfaction.

Later that day he put in an anonymous tip with the real police about a man in possession of a large amount of drugs in a rusty, old, Honda Civic. And if he happened to plant a little more in the trunk just to make sure John would be locked up for a good, long while then he would be happy to retire his fake badge knowing he had done the world - and more importantly the Abernathys - some good.

Lucifer didn’t know much about possession laws, but he had seen enough Breaking Bad to figure a few duffle bags of meth would be enough. And if he happened to perch himself outside the rundown motel just so he could see John's face twist in confusion and fear as the police pulled out bag, after bag, after bag then that was his reward for cleaning up the streets.

He knew in his heart that his actual reward was seeing the maniacal grin splitting Ansel’s face as they watched the man get carted away. The shadow wrapped himself around Lucifer’s neck and placed a staticky kiss to his cheek, and for the first time in months Lucifer’s heart warmed.

***

Lucifer rode on the high of his success for days after sending Alastor’s deadbeat father to prison, but his excitement cooled as he returned to the monotonous life of being a lone duck in a pond. Well… not quite a lone duck. The surface of the water had started to look more yellow than the deep emerald it had been - positively teeming with his rubber companions, but they were doing nothing to settle his darkening mood.

He had started to creep back up to the edge of the pit - the weight of depression settling heavily on his psyche.

Wallowing had always been his answer before. So much easier to dissociate, and let the world pass him by until he was needed again, but now he found he wasn’t satisfied dwelling in apathy. Perhaps the past five years had changed him after all.

It seemed preposterous that he, an inconceivably ancient being, could change at all, much less in the blink of an angelic eye, and yet he felt restless now. Once he had locked himself away in his workshop for centuries and barely noticed, and yet here he was, dissatisfied standing still. When had that changed?

He layed in bed, curtains closed to block out the red light of the artificial sky. Red had always been his signature color both here and in heaven. The first angel - the first color. After millions of years it started to chafe. How odd now that he was growing a new appreciation for it.

The mattress dipped behind him. “Another day of bedrotting, sire? I must say it’s been a trend lately. One would think you’re trying to ignore me. Has my company really become so undesirable?” Lucifer could hear the thick crackle of interference in his voice that he could now decipher as Alastor’s way to hide any insecurity in his voice. After several months of nightcaps and what could tentatively be called “friendship” he had become proficient in reading the demon’s moods.

He turned over, peering out from the depths of the covers to see genuine worry carved into Alastor’s features, and he found himself racked with guilt. “It’s not you. Everything just feels… overwhelming lately. Sorry for being such a sad sack of shit.”

Another crackle of static as Alastor’s ears twitched in hesitation, several emotions flitting over his face in a matter of seconds before settling on something smug. “Now, now. No need to be melodramatic. Our dear Charlie is worried about you, but don’t you fear, I have everything under control.”

Lucifer sat up, running hands through greasy hair. He couldn’t even be bothered by Alastor’s needling. “Ah, shit. I’m doing it again…” His brain felt like it was on fire. Even the most simple of actions would take a toll on his well being, and yet laying here doing nothing filled him with anxiety.

“Lucifer.” The unusual use of his first name pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts almost before it could begin. He looked wide-eyed into deep crimson orbs full of understanding. “It is okay to rest - to take the time you need to decompress, but you’re doing yourself no favors neither relaxing nor making yourself useful.” He hesitantly placed a comforting hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, shocking the angel even further. The demon never touched him like this. “There are people who care about you here. Try caring a little about yourself, hmm?”

The look of genuine concern made Lucifer’s breath catch in his throat. The touch lingered for a long moment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Alastor took back his hand, frowning at it (as much as Alastor could ever be said to frown, his smile straightening and going taught at the edges.) He stood up quickly and turned away from Lucifer, making his way to the ensuite bathroom. He glanced over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin, wiping the same hand on his lapels. “Look at me spouting sentimental drivel. It seems your dour mood is catching. I’m running you a bath, Your Majesty. The smell is doing you no favors, either.”

Lucifer made his way to the edge of the pond. In a puff of golden magic he turned into his human form. He held up his right arm, and Ansel wrapped around it, gazing up at him from his palm. “I think I'm done resting now, bud. What do you think?” The little shadow responded with a nod and a smirk. “Yeah, yeah, you’re always right. Come on. I have an idea.”

***

Okay, so not all his ideas were good ones. Perhaps there was a reason why heaven had been so skeptical of his plans back in the day, but if you didn’t throw shit at the wall how would you know what would stick?

Opening up a toy shop dedicated entirely to rubber ducks had turned out to be a little too niche to really succeed. Not that Lucifer needed money, but what was the point of opening up a shop if there was no one besides a few passers by to enjoy it? At the very least it had served the purpose of clearing out a large portion of his pond.

After that he attempted to open a magic supply store. That had certainly gotten more attention; however, he’d made one crucial error in forgetting that humans had no inherent magic. Most sinners could pull off a few party tricks, and no one in Hell batted an eye at casual use of sorcery, but everyone who walked through the doors was more confused than anything else.

He sold everything from blank grimoires, to spell components, to small protective charms. The reception had been… mixed, to say the least. Some self proclaimed witches had praised him on the quality of his stock, but for every one of them there were two religious zealots who threatened to report or harm him because he was “practicing satanism.”

“Oh, come on! Satan’s not even that into magic! He’s a meathead-doesn’t even know the difference between illusion and transmutation spells!”

That hadn’t changed any minds, even if it was true.

He was explaining the uses of one of his protective charms to a pink-haired, goth girl when the alarm in his head went off.

“Ahhhh just take it!” He pushed her wholesale out the door before slamming it shut and flipping the closed sign.

It had been a few years since he last had to protect Alastor from his father, and he had to force himself to take a deep breath, calming his panic before transforming into his dove form and popping back into his usual tree outside the Abernathy home.

At first it seemed as if nothing was amiss. He almost teleported himself inside before he heard a small whimper coming from the backyard. Flying over he saw Alastor, now a toddler, hunched over and hiding in a bush from a large dog prowling around the grass. As much as Lucifer’s first instinct was to swoop down and take Al in his arms, he paused. The dog didn’t seem particularly aggressive. In fact, it didn’t really seem to have much interest in Alastor at all, and yet Lucifer could feel his fear in the back of his head through the warning glyph strong enough to set his teeth on edge. Well, if he had teeth at the moment.

Thinking quickly, he turned into a white, fluffy cat and hopped down from the roof. He quietly skirted around the perimeter of the yard before trying to get the dog’s attention, languidly turning his back and waving his tail in the air. The dog stopped in its tracks, locking on to him in an instant. Lucifer tensed, prepared to run.

“Meow?”

The dog launched itself at him like a bullet. He clambered underneath the hedges and led it on a chase through the woods, ducking and dodging around trees until he was well out of eye sight of the house. He opened up a portal ahead of him, darting through it, right into his shop, and made sure the dog followed him through. It crashed into a display of herbs, and Lucifer sighed, turning back into his human form. The dog popped its head up, confused.

“Aww… I just organized those!”

The dog sneezed, shaking itself before looking at him quizzically. Lucifer got down on one knee, and scratched it behind the ears. “Well, at least you’re a friendly one, aren’tcha boy? I did always like dogs. Too bad Hell’s version is nightmare fuel, ey Ansel? Quieves were not my idea, let me tell you. That was all Mammon.”

Ansel ran up into the furthest corner of the wall hissing static in protest, appearing to try to claw himself higher. “That’s right. Al did have cynophobia, didn’t he? How odd that it seems to have carried over into this life…” Lucifer murmured to himself. Even now he could still feel the lingering distress in the back of his head.

“Okay, I’m gonna put him in my office-” Ansel grew as large as he could - which was only a couple feet high - and waved his arms in front of him, snarling in indignant fury. “Only until I find his house! Don’t worry, we’re not keeping him.”

That did little to appease the shadow, as he formed a knife in his hand.

“I don’t know whether you’re threatening to kill me or the dog, but neither are going to change my mind. He’ll only be here for a couple hours, but right now I need to get back to Baby Al. He’s still upset.” Ansel made a wild series of motions. (I’m going to give you the cold shoulder for a week for every hour that mutt in our presence, I can’t believe you just rubbed my ring into it’s nasty hair you fucking CRETIN!)

“You know for a fact that I didn’t pick up any of that.” Lucifer sighed as he lured the dog into his office. Ansel tore out shadowy chunks of his own hair. “Look I’ll make it up to you later, okay? I’ll take you out for a nice night of fun, how about that?” They had taken to sneaking into John’s cell every so often to conduct a little psychological torture, just to let off some steam and sate the more sadistic side of their natures.

Ansel crossed his arms, glaring down at Lucifer from his corner. He nodded his head, lifted one finger up, and then rubbed his hands together, forming shadowy bubbles before holding his nose and pointing to his ring finger. (Fine, but you have to wash your hands first. My ring reeks of dog)

“Uhhh… One… Soap… Smelly… Finger..?” The gears turned in his head trying to put the gestures into one coherent phrase. “You want me to wash my hands?” Ansel nodded his head, eyes wide, falling to his knees, and raising his arms to the heavens. YES! Oh my god you actually understood me! God did give you a brain!

“Okay, okay, ya drama queen, but I’m going to check on Baby Al, first.” And with that he poofed back into his cat form, teleporting just out of sight of the house.

He slipped back into the yard from under the hedges to see Baby Al still huddled in the bushes against the wall of the house. His breaths came fast and shallow, as if he hardly dared to breathe, his little arms raised in front of his face like he couldn’t bring himself to even check if the dog was gone.

This didn’t necessarily surprise Lucifer. Even the Radio Demon at the height of his power was made nervous by dog-like sinners and hellhounds. He had told Lucifer about his gruesome death at the hands of a hunter one night after many fortifying glasses of whiskey. Torn apart by hounds before he was mercifully shot in the head. The angel had made the connection then, why Alastor’s sinner form presented as a deer, and had wisely not made a joke about it at the time, seeing how much courage it had taken the sinner to share the tale. He saw it for the gift of trust and vulnerability it was.

To think it would leave such a strong mark on him that it lasted into his reincarnation… I wonder what else has carried over.

He would have to ponder the implications later. Right now he had a little boy to comfort.

”Meow”

Alastor stilled, daring to peek out from between his fingers. Lucifer sat, calm and unbothered a few feet away, trying to exude as much tranquility as a cat could.

“No, kitty. There’s… There’s a dog. Come hide with me.” He pleaded just above a whisper.

Lucifer padded up, rubbing against his legs, and then walked back out into the open. He rolled onto his back, presenting his tummy.

Come on, kid. No one can resist cat belly even if it is a trap.

Alastor’s eyes widened in fear. He ran out of the bush, clumsily scooping Lucifer into his tiny arms and dragging him back into cover. Lucifer let out a chirp.

“Dog will get you, kitty! We have to hide! Shhh!” He sat, and plopped Lucifer in his lap. The angel’s ears pinned back and he gave a mental sigh.

You’re lucky I’m not a real cat. I don’t think they like being manhandled that way. Raphael always liked to make his creatures persnickety.

This is the closest Lucifer had been to Alastor since marking him with the glyph as an infant. He gazed up at him and noticed a long birthmark stretching across the underside of his neck. His golden eyes narrowed as he realized that it was the exact spot Al’s throat had been slit in the extermination.

So heaven is keeping track of the reincarnations… or marking them, at least. Like branding cattle.

Rage boiled beneath his skin, and it took everything in him to keep his form stable. If heaven was keeping tabs on the sinner’s reincarnations then what could they manipulate about their lives - their circumstances? How deep did their influence go? Enough to sabotage the soul’s chances? Enough to upend the whole system Charlie had fought so hard to put in place?

Before he could dwell on it further he heard Dorothy’s voice calling out for Alastor from the back door, growing more panicked as he remained out of sight.

“Here, Mama!” He called out as he once again picked up Lucifer by the armpits and waddled out of the bushes, dragging the cat’s fluffy tail across the ground. Only for this soul would Lucifer bear this kind of humiliation.

The King of Pride, folks…

“I saved kitty from a big dog!” Alastor hoisted him up, presenting Lucifer to his mother like Rafiki presenting Simba to the pridelands. To Dorothy’s credit she came to his rescue.

“Baby, don’t pick him up like that. Be gentle.” Alastor mercifully put him back on the ground where he sat, and tried to look regal. ”You saved him from a dog? What dog, Allie?” She looked around the yard, face furrowed with worry.

“I scared it! I got a stick and said ‘no dog, no!’” He mimed waving a stick in the air at an invisible hound, and despite the blatant lie Lucifer couldn’t help but be impressed by the showmanship at the ripe age of 4. Dorothy, however, obviously knew her son better than that.

“Oh, did you now?” Her voice was steeped in loving amusement. Lucifer thought that she probably didn’t believe in his story or the existence of the dog at all. “And what did that dog say, baby?”

Alastor burst into glorious, childlike laughter. “That silly, Mama! Dog’s can’t talk!”

Lucifer took a moment to admire the unbridled joy on his face - happiness unmarred by age and experience, and for the first time he was almost glad that Alastor had gotten this chance. How many people wished to go back to a simpler, more carefree time in their lives? It wasn’t an exclusively human experience. Lucifer squashed the seed of envy in his heart. It did him no good. Instead he chose to savor this moment and live vicariously, enjoying the precious gift Alastor had been given even if it was under such twisted circumstances.

Relish it while you can, my dear. It will be over all too soon.

“What a pretty cat you found, Allie.” Dorothy kneeled down, putting her hand out for him to sniff. Lucifer elected to look unimpressed. He didn’t often turn into animals that garnered much physical attention like petting - more often turning into birds and snakes, and so didn’t quite know how he felt about taking the bit that far with someone who didn’t know they were giving a fully sentient being a scratch behind the ears.

”Meow.”

She drew her hand back, placing it in her lap instead. “Why hello there, sir. Thank you for keeping my baby company while I finished supper.”

Was she… talking to him like a person? Did she somehow have a sixth sense? Some humans had the gift, rare as it was. This was going to become a lot more complicated if she could sense his power. She couldn’t recognize him, surely. The only commonality between his various forms was the white body and golden eyes, and she had only seen him three times now-

Alastor cut off his thoughts by responding for him, affecting some sort of silly, baby voice. “My name is Coconut, and I want supper, too! I like fish! Can I have your fish?”

Okay… Or Lucifer was overthinking this little game between the two. Also, he would be damned all over again if his name was going to be Coconut. Dorothy quirked an eyebrow “Oh, so dogs can’t talk but cats can?”

“Yeah.” Alastor stated matter-of-factly, without any other explanation. “Can we keep him?” He looked up at her with big, pleading, brown eyes. As a parent, himself, Lucifer knew that look all too well.

Dot, please be stronger than I ever could be. I don’t want to be the bad guy here.

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think Chicken and Waffles will appreciate having another cat in the house. Besides, he’s too pretty to not belong to someone. Tell Coconut goodbye so we can go eat supper.” She put a hand on his back to lead him back into the house, and Lucifer braced himself for the heart wrenching, alligator tears only a four year old was capable of producing.

Shockingly Alastor gave him a cheerful little wave, and let himself be led inside without a fuss. “Bye, Coconut!”

Lucifer’s jaw dropped in a very un-catlike way.

Not even once had Alastor ever conceded something so easily. What kind of magical sway did this woman have over him, and how could Lucifer learn it? Al had often spoken fondly of his mother once he and Lucifer had gotten closer, and it seemed as though that was something else that remained unchanged. He noticed Ansel attached to his own shadow looking at the pair retreat with something like longing in his eyes.

How much of you is still in there?

***

He returned to his shop shortly after. He had found the house where the dog belonged, and dropped him off before thoroughly scrubbing his hands at Ansel’s demand. It was late in the day, and Lucifer was ready to reorganize the herbs and hit the hay, utterly exhausted by the day’s events. He was just about to call it quits when he heard the sound of a portal opening. He whipped around to face… A cherub?

A tiny deer angel looking apprehensive and perhaps a little scared floated well out of reach. “Hey thereee! Mr. Morningstar, sir, so I know you were given leave to be here, but according to this you’re releasing magical artifacts into the human populace, and weeeell, mmmm, that’s just against protocol, soooo yeahhh, noooo. You’re going to have to shut this store down.”

He froze, hardly believing what he was being told, and from the lowest order of angels, no less. “Shut down?! I just got this up and running! It took me years to find and make all these items!”

“Yeeeaahhhh, noooo. Sorry, but it’s in violation of several laws. I have a comprehensive list for you here.” She handed him a small scroll with dozens of bible verses condemning the act of sorcery and witchcraft. “Just peruse that at your leisure, but yeeaah. You’ll have to shut down by tomorrow.”

He slumped against the shelves feeling utterly defeated. Heaven was once again smothering his creativity, stopping him from spreading knowledge and power to humans. He sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised…”

The little doe looked relieved as she realized that he didn’t seem to want to take it out on her. Lucifer knew better. The cherubs were just the smallest cogs in the giant machine that was heaven. He may be the devil, but never let it be said he was rude to service workers.

“Welllll, those are the rules, sorry. Anyway, I’m going to go. Try to stay out of trouble! Byeee!” And with that she escaped back to the great, big office in the sky leaving him feeling pathetic and dejected.

Back to square one.

***

Sera was fuming. Her carefully laid plans slowly unraveled as Lucifer interfered down on Earth. This must be his grand design despite Lilith’s reassurances that he simply wasn’t that smart - didn’t think ahead that far. She knew evil when she saw it.

With The Radio Demon’s father out of the way so quickly his life was surely to take a path that Sera hadn’t intended - one step closer to breaching the gates she had so carefully guarded from sinner scum. The Morningstar’s pawn could not be allowed to mar her perfect paradise.

Chapter Text

7 years ago

Lilith stalked down the streets of Hell. Outwardly she was stoic – the stern, composed queen she had grown to be after ten thousand years of picking up Lucifer’s slack. Inside she was seething.

This wasn’t the life she had envisioned all those years ago. She had been young and painfully naive. She had dreamed that together she and her angel could build a home to rival Eden - rival Heaven, itself. That dream had lived a short life, only long enough to survive the construction of Hell.

Tearing her husband out of his own misery had always been a trial, but the challenge presented by filling the crater of their fall with the seven rings had engaged him long enough to give her misguided hope. It bought her only a couple thousand years of the man she had fallen for in The Garden. Then he was gone again - lost in the void of his own mind, broken beyond repair.

She had tried everything she could think of - dragged him to every meeting, every event, made him interact with their subjects. How many ways had she tried to force him to see the importance of what they were building? Why had the creation of Hell brought him purpose, but the maintenance sent him ever deeper into the chasm of his pathetic wallowing? Nothing could burn through the thick haze that had obscured his light. Nothing except Charlotte.

Lilith sneered, and any demons who had stuck around to gawk at the return of their estranged queen quickly ducked into alleyways and shadows. Charlotte was her heir - her legacy. She had plans for the child that had briefly patched the sinking ship of her marriage, and nothing would prevent her from doing what needed to be done. That’s why it had been imperative to remove Lucifer from the picture.

Charlotte was too soft, far too much like her father - more angel than demon despite the fallen nature of her parents. To remedy such a failing Lilith had tried to separate them - succeeded for a large portion of her daughter’s life, but it seemed that no matter how she intervened, nothing had been able to harden Charlotte’s heart. Not yet, in any case…

That was about to change. It was for her own good. One had to be strong to gain the respect of Hell’s denizens.

In a realm where very few played fair, the end would always justify the means.

The Hazbin Hotel rose into view, and the queen forced her head to remain high and her strides even. It was time to set things to rights.

***

Present Day

Now this was living! Lucifer dusted his hands off on his pants after packing down the earth on his newest apple sapling.

This was the 13th variety added to his collection - called a Cameo if you cared enough to ask, and he sure hoped you did. He had only created one type of apple in The Beginning, but humans and their ingenuity had taken it and made thousands! Granny Smith, Fugi, Honeycrisp, Gala, Pink Lady, the list went on and on! Each with their own flavors and uses, and his neighbors had long ago learned not to get him talking about it.

Lucifer had bemoaned his inability to create new life magically, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get down in the dirt and do it the old-fashioned way. He found it suited him - had healed a little piece of his wounded soul.

His cheery mood took a tumble when he opened the door to his quaint, little house and found the cherub that had quickly become his arch nemesis.

“No, no, no! What do you want now??? I shut down the magic supply store, I quit writing my autobiography because you said it was going to turn into “The Anti-Bible” - a stupid name, by the way! I even agreed to stay at least 1000 feet away from every church lest I ‘tempt the devout on holy ground.’” He raised is hands in air quotes, steeped heavily with sarcasm. “What could I possibly be doing wrong this time?!”

“Hello, Mr. Morningstaaarrr,” she said as if he weren’t stomping around in a borderline tantrum. “Yeaahhh, you see, Heaven officials are just a little concerned about your apple orchard here. You knooowww… Because of what happened last time apples were involved.”

How did she always manage to look so damn nonchalant while pissing off an entity unfathomably stronger than her?

Lucifer scrubbed a hand down his face in exasperation. “These aren’t magical trees. There's no forbidden fruit. I can’t even MAKE magical trees anymore, which I’m SURE you… you knew…” His impending rant came to a stuttering halt as the alarm bell indicating that Alastor was in trouble rang in his head.

“Yes, I am aware of your revoked privileges, that’s why-”

“I have to go, can you hurry this up?” He tapped his foot impatiently.

“Nooo, sorry. If you want to keep your orchard there’s paperwork that will need to be signed.” With a click of her hooves a big stack of paper, almost as tall as Lucifer himself, poofed into existence on the floor in front of him. He gawked at it.

“Are you serious?!” He gestured at the pile with both hands, a golden flush of anger tinting his cheeks. ”This will take me months to look through by myself, and I don’t have access to my lawyers here!” The alarm grew in intensity. He really had to go.

The little deer rolled her eyes, bringing out a file to scrape against her hooves. The sound would have been grating if it hadn’t been overpowered by the tolling bells in his mind. “You really don’t need to read it all, just initial in the highlighted areas and sign the bottom of each page. Then heaven will overlook your little grove of sin. Sound good?”

CLANG CLANG CLANG

“Fine, FINE, but it will have to wait. I have to take care of something right now.” He was already opening a portal to wherever Alastor was.

“Noooo, this will need to be taken care of immediately, I’m afraid-” Lucifer stepped through, changing forms as he went. “Mr. Morningstar you can’t-” The sound of her voice cut out with the closing of the portal. He’d just have to deal with her later.

____________

Alastor was in quite a pickle. His mama had told him to go to the park today in an attempt to get him to play with some other kids his age. The problem was that he didn't particularly like kids his age, and they didn't like him in return. That's not to say he hadn't tried, more for her sake than for his own. He was perfectly content reading his books or playing out in the woods alone, and if he ever craved company he had his mama or his cats, Chicken and Waffles, but today he wanted to make his mama happy.

Why did the other kids have to be so dull, though? All they ever did was gather around their phones, and watch other people play games. Why not at least play the games, themselves? Why limit their fun to what others had already created? No, Alastor preferred to find his entertainment in the world around him. His mama would always tell him he was “an old soul.”

He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he did know that it didn't tend to win him any friends. He was determined today would be different.

So far it hadn't gone as well as he would’ve liked.

When he had walked up to a big group of boys sitting on a bench, all huddled around an iPad and suggested they play tag, he hadn't thought it would end up with him stuck in a tree. They had pushed him around, made fun of his discount store clothes and poorly fit glasses that tended to slip down his nose, and had chased him into the woods. Alastor was faster. He had lost them in the foliage until he had found a big oak tree with branches just low enough to climb. Quickly and quietly he jumped from limb to limb until he was confident he was high enough they wouldn't see him.

The other kids had passed right under him, cursing as they realized they had lost their quarry. Alastor wrinkled his nose in distaste. His mama always said that people who used bad language weren't smart enough to express themselves properly. He knew she had to be correct, but when he said as much he got chased up a tree. It really wasn't fair that people didn't like him simply for being right.

He waited patiently for them to give up, biding his time by tracing the patterns of the bark with his finger. Once he was sure they were gone he readied himself to climb back down the tree.

It looked a lot higher now than when he was going up.

Alastor took a deep breath. Crouching down to grip the branch he was standing on tightly, he swung his feet until his toes just barely grazed the branch beneath him. Dangling by his fingers, he stretched until the balls of his feet were planted more firmly into the wood. His heart started to hammer in his chest as he braced himself to balance his weight once he let go.

Releasing the higher branch he wobbled, arms wheeling in the air in a scrambling attempt to stay upright. Alastor’s breath caught in his throat as he tilted forward and back. By sheer force of will he stilled himself, settling, if not gracefully then at least safely, on the branch.

He sucked in another fortifying breath of relief.

craaaaack

Alastor had a single moment of clarity as the branch gave way beneath his weight.

Mama can't afford a hospital bill…

He closed his eyes, bracing for impact as he fell 10 feet - into something soft?

Instead of meeting the hard ground, Alastor looked up, wide eyed into the face of a boy perhaps a couple years older than him.

“HA! I made it!” The kid looked equally shocked, but his golden eyes glimmered with relief.

This must have been one of the kids bullying him earlier, but Alastor couldn't say for sure if he remembered seeing him. On second thought he felt like this boy would have been hard to forget with his platinum blonde hair and unusual tawny eyes. Still, Alastor gazed at him warily. “Are you still gonna beat me up?”

The question obviously caught the boy off guard, his smile melting from his face more quickly than a snowflake in July. “Uuuhhh… what? No. Is that… a problem you usually have to deal with?”

It registered to Alastor that he was being held in the other’s arms. He was intrigued that the uninvited contact didn’t make his skin crawl the why it typically did with anyone but his mama, but wasn’t eager to test the waters. “If you're not going to hurt me then please put me down,” he urged, flustered.

He obliged, setting Alastor on his feet. Standing side by side it struck him that despite looking a little older, his savior was downright petite. Alastor had always been taller and lankier than children his own age, but he had to look down low enough that his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose.

Whoa, he must be really strong to catch me from so high up.

“I’m Alastor. Pleasure to meet you.” Despite being slightly frazzled, he kept his manners impeccable just like his mom had taught him.

“Luuuu- uh, Just Lu! Yup! You’re welcome, by the way. That would have been a nasty spill.” Lu took his hand hesitantly, shaking gently almost as if he were scared of breaking Alastor. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Why did you think I was going to hurt you?”

A light blush formed on the tops on Alastor’s cheeks, and he turned his head away. Lu’s eye contact was so intense - like he could see right through him. “I just thought you might have been friends with those kids at the park…” Lu frowned, clenching his fists at his sides, looking for all the world like he was about to track them down and teach them a lesson. “I lost them by climbing up that tree. No one ever thinks to look up.”

Why am I telling him this? He’s going to think I’m pathetic.

“That’s pretty smart! Until you break your neck trying to get down, that is. You’re lucky you have me to catch you.” He winked and crossed his arms, looking far too smug. Alastor decided to give it a pass considering this kid had just saved his mama a lot of worry. “Want me to go find them for you? Nothing like a little old fashioned revenge, right?” Alastor looked at him disbelievingly.

“No offence, but you’re about half the size of the smallest one. What are you gonna do - bite their ankles until they beg for mercy?” The way Lu’s face fell - slack-jawed and incensed, made him burst into a fit of giggles, clutching his sides.

“Hey! Why do you always- that’s- fuck you!” Despite his pitiful sputtering, Lu had an amused gleam in his eyes.

Alastor stifled his laughter long enough to bite back,” It seems you won’t be beating them with words, either! It’s okay. They don’t seem to understand anything longer than four letters, anyway.”

Lu chuckled, feathers already unruffling, and cocked an eyebrow. “So no revenge, then?”

Alastor shrugged. “I don’t see why I have to stoop to their level.” He didn’t miss the way Lu’s eyes widened in surprise. “Besides, if I come home with bruises mama won’t get me the piano I’ve been asking for.”

Seemingly dissuaded from tempting Alastor further, Lu responded, “Oh! That’s cool. You play piano?”

The question ignited a spark in Alastor, his face lighting up a genuine smile. “Yes! My mama is a music teacher. She’s teaching me how to play a bunch of instruments! I'm learning piano, saxophone, clarinet, trombone, and french horn.” His expression shuttered as he went on, and he and Lu started to wander back through the woods toward the park, kicking pine cones out of the way as he went. “Right now I can only practice for a couple hours after school before she goes to her second job, but she promised that if I got good grades this semester she would get a keyboard so I can play at home.”

Lu grimaced and Alastor had to wonder why this strange kid even cared, or why he even felt inclined to spill his guts like this in the first place. He was typically withdrawn, quiet, completely satisfied with the company of his own imagination, but something about the stranger encouraged him to keep talking. “Did you just move here? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Oh, no. My family is on vacation at the campgrounds right down the road. I’m only here for a little bit.” A ghost of regret shadowed Lu’s face, and he fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt. Something about the way he spoke sounded a little too rehearsed.

“Yeah? Where are you from?” Alastor pressed. He picked up a long stick, twirling it in his hands as they walked.

Lu’s eyes shifted back and forth, seemingly having to think about it. “Uhh… south of here. Like, way south.”

What a weird kid.

Movement caught Alastor's attention. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a dark figure, but when he turned to look it was gone. He pushed his glasses back into place. Maybe it was just a smudge on the lenses.

“Oh, you’re from Florida?” That seemed to explain a lot about his odd behavior. Alastor may not be chronically online like most children his age, but everyone knew about Florida Man. “Mama keeps saying she wants to take me to the beach to see the ocean one day. Sometimes people from Florida visit to watch the leaves change in the fall. It’s pretty. You should come back in a couple months if you can.”

“That sounds nice- Whoa!” Lu stopped in his tracks, putting out a hand to stop Alastor from tripping over a half buried skeleton of a large buck. It had long been picked over by scavengers, leaving the bones exposed, a stark white amongst the green and brown of the underbrush.

Alastor’s eyes lit up in morbid fascination. He knelt on the ground, skimming a hand over the sun-bleached ivory of the buck’s antlers. He stopped as he looked up at Lu. His pale skin looked ashen, golden eyes flicking from the buck to Alastor and back like he had seen a ghost.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a skeleton. Do they not have roadkill in Florida?” That seemed to snap Lu out of his stupor. “No, no, plenty of roadkill. I guess I was just surprised, is all. It’s sad. Deer are so beautiful - graceful. Seeing one like this makes me feel- What are you doing???”

Alastor had hooked his hands underneath the deer’s skull and started wrenching against the remains of the connective tissue. He prised the head from the rest of the body, stumbling back a step as it finally gave way. He stood, turning to Lu with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and a smile too wide and ominous for one so young.

“I think I know how we can get back at those bullies without getting in trouble. Will you help me?”

___________

When Lucifer returned to earth he never imagined he'd be playing pranks on packs of children, and yet here he was - a being old enough to remember a time before the concept of age even existed, planning to give a few snivelling brats some well deserved nightmares. Well, he supposed he was The Devil for a reason, and it really seemed like Alastor could use a companion.

It worried him how much trouble Alastor had making friends. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Alastor's abrasiveness had sanded its way through the boundaries of life and death. His friends in Hell had been few, yet dearly kept and cared for once that veneer of callous disregard was pried away. Lucifer certainly wasn’t helping him make friends at this moment, but hey - children could be cruel. Perhaps a little retribution was called for.

Selfishly, he was enjoying the rare opportunity to interact. Alastor’s crises were few and far between, which was great so long as he didn’t think about the ever-present burden of loneliness looming over him at all times. He shoved that thought aside. Today it didn’t matter because at the moment they were running the not-so-short stint down the road to Alastor’s house to grab supplies for what admittedly was a pretty devious plan.

Leaving the deer skull hidden outside, Alastor burst into the house - the front door creaking loudly, announcing their arrival.

“Allie baby, I thought I told you to play outside while I got some work done.” Dorothy was perched at a desk in the corner of the living room, her face blocked by a computer screen.

“I am, mama. I just needed to grab something for a game Lu and I are playing.”

That got her attention. She peeked over the monitor, expression flipping from surprise to delight as Lucifer caught her eye. She stood, coming over to greet him properly. “Pleasure to meet you, Lu! Allie never brings friends over! Can I get you somethin’ to drink, baby? Maybe a snack?”

Lucifer stifled a giggle at her enthusiasm. His admiration for the woman grew with each meeting. For a mother in less than ideal circumstances she really seemed to make the best of what she was given.

I could learn a lesson or two from her.

“Mama, don’t call me and my friends ‘baby’, please.” Alastor was looking down, clearly abashed. Perhaps he had misinterpreted Lucifer’s barely contained mirth as teasing. Well, it was only fair after the short jokes.

“Aww, come on Allie. Your mom’s pretty cool!” Alastor put his head in his hands, groaning, and Lucifer gave Dorothy his most winning smile - the one he reserved for the magazine covers. “Thank you for the offer, Ms. Abernathy, but we have some business to attend to.”

She put a hand to her mouth to cover a chuckle of her own. “My, my, how charming! I’ll let you get to it, then. Have fun, boys.”

They rummaged through the house until they found a black sheet, red paint, a few safety pins, and a cheap bluetooth speaker, stuffing it all in a backpack before grabbing the deer skull and running back to the park. If Lucifer had actually been human he would have been feeling every single one of his 13 billion years. He hadn’t had this much exercise in millenia. There was truly something to be said for the stamina of the young.

“You are not going to make me put that thing on my head. I thought it was gross enough when you picked it up with your bare hands. You’ll have to be on top.” After a few minutes of what essentially turned into an arts n’ crafts project it was just about showtime, and Lucifer was starting to question Alastor’s sanity.

Alastor looked up from shredding the edges of the bottom of the sheet, and pushed his glasses up his nose with a finger. “Well, I can’t be on top. You’re so short it will completely throw off our center of gravity.” He said it as if he were going to get his way no matter what Lucifer said, and perhaps that was true. Some things never change.

“I’m stronger, it will be fine. I can hold you up easy!” Lucifer grumbled, sensing a losing battle.

“No, no. We’ll lose valuable intimidation factor without the extra foot of height my legs have over yours. Besides, my glasses will get in the way.” Alastor tilted his head and gave Lucifer that eerie smile, holding out the monstrosity they had just created for him to take. “Better hurry. The park closes at sunset, and we’ll lose our chance at revenge.”

Lucifer groaned, “Ugghhhh fine! The things I do for you…” He took the skull in hand, waiting for Alastor to look away before using a little magic to at least make the thing sanitary. They had painted the jaw with the red paint making it look like it had blood dripping down its muzzle. He was beginning to wonder if God had come back just to play this absurd joke on him. He’d almost believe it except his Father never had much of a sense of humor.

Lucifer heaved himself onto Alastor’s shoulders, wrapping the black sheet around the two of them. They pinned the edges together, and Lucifer begrudgingly settled the deer skull onto his head. They had set themselves up just beyond the treeline, still within earshot of the park where the posse of brats were still gathered around an iPad watching some sort of horror game. How nice that the mood was already set for them.

Lucifer fiddled with his phone, setting up creepy, ambient sounds to play through the speaker tucked in his pocket. He whispered down to his partner in crime. “Showtime?”

“Showtime,” Alastor whispered back with barely contained excitement. Lucifer felt Al tighten his hold on his legs as he took a deep breath and let out an almighty scream.

It was the kind of shrill, piercing shriek only a prepubescent boy could make, and Lucifer chuckled under his breath as Alastor's voice cracked several times. It was reminiscent of the screech of the radio demon's static whenever he was particularly irritated or taken aback, but Lucifer would go to his grave keeping that comparison to himself.

It successfully captured the attention of the children on the bench who jumped, scrambling to their feet at the sound. The angel could hear them start to argue amongst themselves, debating whether to investigate the noise or turn tail and run. He peeked around the tree they were hidden behind, and saw the boldest of them start to stalk towards the treeline on tiptoe while the others hung back. He nudged Alastor with his foot to start them moving.

Lumbering out of the forest was a six and a half foot tall deer monster, clad in worn, black robes, its maw dripping with blood. They all froze in terror, too stunned to either fight or flee. To add to the effect, Lucifer let his eyes glow red though the sockets of the skull, locking gazes with the kid closest to him - a boy of maybe 15. Careful to exclude Alastor from its influence, he let the smallest modicum of his demonic essence seep out, just enough to tickle their survival instincts.

He spoke low, voice rumbling in his chest, not a threat but a simple statement of fact, “I am going to devour each and every one of you.”

It was a stolen line from the day he met Alastor, but Lucifer was feeling sentimental. Okay, when wasn't he feeling sentimental? But what better way to strike terror into creatures that had always believed themselves to be at the top of the food chain - predators become prey? He realized he may have gone just a liiiittle too far when the stink of piss hit his nose.

Whoops…

“RUN!” the kid furthest in the back managed to scream. Snapping the rest out of their reverie. They clambered away pitifully, tripping and falling all over themselves, wet pants and all.

When the screaming faded away down the road and they were left in eerie, twilight silence. Alastor peeked out from the sheet. “Whoa… I didn't think it was going to be that scary.” Guilt stirred in Lucifer's chest, knowing he overdid it. The regret lasted only long enough for Alastor to shout, “That was amazing!”

Lucifer nearly toppled off Al's shoulders as the boy burst into what could only be classified as maniacal laughter. He thought once again, as he seemed to think every time they interacted, how similar this boy was to the man he knew. Enough that it was easy to imagine who he'd become in the following years. He caught Ansel's amused stare, eyebrow raised and arms crossed, obviously judging him for terrorizing literal children. Like he had room to talk.

The shadow disappeared as Lucifer dropped to the ground, shedding the costume. Off to wherever it was he dwelled when not judging Lucifer for his questionable life choices. The angel was brought back to the present as Alastor grabbed his hands, spinning him in a circle.

“How cool was that!? I have to admit I peeked. Did you see their faces! Heavens, they all peed their pants simultaneously! You may be right, there's really something satisfying about taking some well deserved revenge.”

And oh, there was that unbridled, child-like joy again. It warmed Lucifer's heart despite the suspect methods he had used to inspire it. It made him laugh heartily. “You say that like I'm the one who came up with the idea. Trust me, only you would have thought of some sort of eldritch, deer monster.” And Alastor had no idea how very on brand it was.

The boy narrowed his eyes slightly, letting go of his hands, and tilting his head at a much more human angle than Lucifer was used to from him. “You keep saying things like that, like you know me.” Lucifer froze, all thoughts of youthful innocence fleeing his mind. How did he explain this away? Alastor continued, “You even called my mom Ms. Abernathy. I never told you my last name… Who are you?”

His expression held no malice, no wariness, only curiosity. Alastor hadn’t seen enough of the evils of the world to be properly suspicious of a boy who looked to be almost his own age. Lucifer was so tempted to tell him the truth, to spill his guts now while Alastor was young enough to maybe even believe him. His heart ached with the need to be seen, and the words were at the tip of his tongue.

But he couldn’t. To do so now would change the entire trajectory of Alastor’s life, and… didn’t he deserve the chance to be his own person? To develop himself separately of The Radio Demon - Separately of Lucifer? It wouldn’t be right, so the angel wielded one of his powers he so rarely made use of. The magic that had given him the title of The Father of Lies. He wove Suggestion into his words, and sorrow wrenched at his soul as he spoke.

“You Told Me Your Last Name When You Introduced Yourself, Remember?” Alastor paused, the words sinking into his psyche. He nodded as if remembering it as Lucifer described. “I Am Just A Boy, Here On Vacation. We Have Never Met Before Today. Any Familiarity Is A Coincidence.”

Lucifer hated this power that had been granted to him as an angel of God. Oh, sure, it was useful, and he had used it against demons who had tried to take advantage of him before, but it stripped the victim of the ability to question its user. How was one to spread The Word as absolute truth if it was left up to debate?

As his statement settled itself into Alastor's mind, tears threatened to spill over Lucifer’s cheeks. He turned away to hide his face, scrubbing his eyes harshly with his sleeve. He startled when a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Mama would tan my hide if I didn’t invite you over for dinner, especially with it being so late. What do you say? We could celebrate our success and… new friendship?”

Lucifer looked up into dark, earnest eyes that looked almost pleading. Another temptation.

“Sorry, but I have to get back to my parents. Besides, I left some business half done before I came here today. This was fun, though.” Alastor’s face fell in disappointment, and the expression tugged at Lucifer’s heart all over again. He forced himself to smirk, pushing Alastor’s glasses back up his nose, making the boy scoff in irritation. “Maybe I’ll see you around, though - you know, if you ever take that trip to Florida.”

“Yeah…” Alastor reluctantly walked a few steps before turning back around. “Hey, Lu? Thank you. For saving me… and for everything else.”

“Anytime.”

Alastor gave him a small wave, and disappeared into the dusk. From a distance Lucifer made sure he got home safely, and if Alastor noticed that his glasses fit a little better after “Lu” had pushed them back up then that could be a coincidence, too.

***

“Alright, I’m back. I really don’t know how much more you can bitch about an apple orchard. Really! How much more innocent can you-” Lucifer’s complaints were cut short as he popped back into his house. The irritating little deer cherub was gone, and something was distinctly off.

He heard a buzzing sound coming from the orchard, almost like the rustling of leaves in a strong wind, and tiny tapping noises against his windows.

thunk thunkthunk thunk

There wasn’t supposed to be a storm tonight, and everything was so calm when he was with Alastor only a few miles away. “What the hell?” Lucifer cracked open his door, and gazed into the fading light outside. His stomach dropped at what he saw.

Thousands upon thousands of locusts swarmed his precious orchard. Every branch was nearly picked clean, nothing left of his unripe apples, not even the cores. He dropped to his knees, cursing Heaven, Sera, God, and every holy entity he could think of. Ansel curled up his arm “patting” him in a feeble attempt at comfort. All he managed was to get the hair on Lucifer’s arm to stand on end from the static.

Time to start over… Again.

Chapter Text

Lucifer was at a complete loss. Something was wrong with Alastor – had been for days now. The bells of his warning system hadn’t been ringing so much as droning in a low, wavering tone like a bad case of tinnitus.

Concerned, Lucifer had come immediately to Alastor’s aid, and found… nothing. Nothing obvious, at least. He had checked for some physical ailment as the boy slept with a wash of magic, but couldn’t find anything of note. No cancer, genetic defects, malfunctioning organs, or other serious illness, and yet Alastor maintained a steady level of stress deep enough that Lucifer was plagued by the hum of bells like he had a front row seat to the world's longest Tibetan singing bowl concert.

He had taken to watching over him more frequently, sometimes as a literal fly on the wall, in an attempt to discover the cause of Alastor’s distress. Certainly he seemed… off. No longer did he come home and practice his piano (a quaint, little upright that had been put on the side of the road with a sign reading “free to a good home” taped to the front. The snake and apple motif engraved into the wood was pure coincidence if anyone were to ask.) No, instead he spent his time wandering the woods aimlessly, trekking up and down the mountains as if he were on a pilgrimage only to find enlightenment just out of reach. Today was no exception.

Alastor was brooding in one of his more frequently visited locales, a fallen tree that bridged across a small creek. He sat at the halfway point glaring into the whirlpools below him, feet dangling, bare toes just barely grazing the surface as he kicked them to and fro.

Lucifer wasn’t necessarily a stranger to teenage angst. Charlie had certainly had her share. Her childhood bathroom still bore stains from the black hair dye to prove it. He hadn’t known how to approach it then, and he certainly didn’t now, but with how suddenly this had come on he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing a piece to this puzzle. Sighing to himself, he knew it was time to call upon his last resort.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and it was time to break out the big guns.

Lucifer stepped out of the underbrush in his cat form, padding across the log.

Lucifer had discovered that Alastor shared the adorable little quirk with his mother of talking to animals, and he had used it to his advantage a small handful of times whenever Alastor’s distress was of an emotional variety. He couldn’t offer the kid much in support, but he could at least be a pointed, fluffy ear when needed.

”Meow?”

Alastor looked up in surprise, expression changing like magic from disquieted to… relieved? Could he have actually been looking for Lucifer all this time?

“Coconut! I was starting to worry that something had happened to you. Pspsps.”

Ah, that dreaded name. For about the dozenth time Lucifer regretted his lack of forethought in not putting a collar on this form when he had taken it 11 years ago. If only he had made a tag with something a little more dignified than ‘Coconut’. How was he supposed to know that all the Abernathy cats were to be cursed with food-based names?

Alastor reached out a hand, and Lucifer nuzzled his head against it, taking a seat at Alastor’s side. All humiliation melted from his thoughts as those long, slender fingers scratched behind his ears. He started to purr – purely for Alastor’s sake, of course.

“I have some bad news, pal.” Once again his face was shadowed with an emotion Lucifer could only place as grief.

What the hell happened that’s got him so messed up?

Ice began to form in Lucifer’s veins as he watched Alastor gather himself as if trying to find the words.

What’s so bad that he can barely tell a cat???

The hair started to raise on Lucifer’s hackles and tail, but Alastor smoothed it back down flat.

“This may be the last time we see each other, Coco…” His voice wavered with the confession, and he resumed his thousand mile stare into the swirling stream below. “Mama says we’re moving to Atlanta as soon as she finds a buyer for the house… She says she’ll get paid more working in the inner city schools – that the government will forgive her student loans if she teaches under-privilaged kids.”

Alastor’s face darkened as he went on. He stood up and started pacing back and forth across the log. For a moment Lucifer wondered how he would explain away having to save him from another falling accident until the boy jumped into the shin deep water of his own accord. “How selfish am I, that I can’t stand it? I love living here! I love the quiet of the forest, the simplicity of smalltown life. I was even starting to make friends this year in school! Fuck!”

Alastor picked up fist sized stones, hurling them back into the stream with all his strength as if punishing the water for the cruel lot that life had dealt him. He began to kick and thrash like the physical exertion would cure him of the pent up stress, and not for the first time Lucifer wished he could do more. Especially right now when he really understood.

Lucifer knew perhaps more than anyone what it was like to be forced from his home. There was a time he had known such contentment back before the apple, before Lilith, before he had known the difference between right and wrong. All stripped away like the petals of his withered innocence. What he wouldn’t give to be able to just say “I understand, and it will be okay.” Instead he could do nothing but stare dumbly down at Alastor from his perch on the log, watching as the water seeped into the boy’s clothing, soaking him completely as his rage quieted.

“I’m sorry… I must look so pathetic right now. I certainly feel it.” Alastor turned to look forlornly into Lucifer’s eyes, and the angel couldn’t tell if it was water or tears streaming down his face.

Never pathetic… Never to me. But he couldn’t say it. Maybe could never say it again.

Alastor gave a dry chuckle. “How is it that a cat can look so expressive? Sometimes I swear you can understand me.” He trudged the short distance to the log, the height differential putting them face to face, and scratched Lucifer’s chin with a damp finger.

“That would be sad, wouldn’t it – to lose a friendship with a sentient, cryptid cat? Now I really am losing my mind.” Alastor breathed a heavy sigh, and turned to make his way back to dry land. His clothes clung to his slim frame awkwardly, dripping with the consequences of his outburst. With a thought Lucifer discreetly wove a spell to make them dry the slightest bit faster. No use in him getting sick with everything else going on. If it rained when it poured, the least the angel could provide was an umbrella.

“I’m glad I finally found you, pal. I felt like I needed to say goodbye properly. If only I could see… No, that’s a pipe dream. I haven’t seen him in years.” He looked up at the sky with a resigned expression. “No, it’s about time to let that dream die.”

Lucifer curled around Alastor’s wet legs, and the boy gave him one last pat on the head. “You just let Lu know where I went if he ever comes through here, again, ya hear? It’s really for the best… for mama.”

Lucifer gave him a soft, sad meow.

——***-----

“Are you ready to talk about it, Baby?” Alastor’s mother asked over dinner, a meal of homemade chicken and dumplings between them. He read the look on her face, and knew there was no getting out of this talk.

“I told you I don’t like when you call me that…” He did his best to keep the pout out of his voice. He needed to man up and accept the consequences of his actions, but he couldn’t help but avoid it, if only for a moment more.

Dorothy put her fork down. It clinked softly on the still full plate. “Okay, Alastor. I just need to understand what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest almost as if in prayer. “What would possess you to put a dead rat in a student’s locker? I thought we were doing better.”

Alastor winced. He didn’t know which was worse: admitting that he was being bullied by some halfwitted cretin, or confessing that he hadn’t “turned the other cheek” as she so often encouraged him to do. He opted for something in between. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. It’s not even half as bad as what some of the other kids in my school get up to.”

“I don’t give a damn what these other hooligans are doing!” Alastor winced. It always meant trouble when his mother lost her soft, southern drawl. “I care about my son and why he’s putting roadkill in another boy’s locker.”

Well he certainly couldn’t explain where he had picked up that habit, nor how long he had been getting away with it. He looked to the side, not able to meet her eyes.

“He called me something… uncouth, so I retaliated.” There. Short and to the point. Let her draw her own conclusions. In the last few years Alastor had discovered that sometimes less was more when it came to maneuvering a difficult conversation. He hated using it on his mama, though. She was the only person around which he ever felt like he could be his genuine self.

He just couldn’t help it. He never felt comfortable letting people actually know him. See him for who he was on the inside. It felt so intimate allowing people to get close, enough that it made him flighty, always looking for a way out.

In some ways moving to Atlanta and changing schools had been a boon – a fresh start away from his tiny hometown where everyone knew everyone else, and had seen him live through his most awkward phases. Planted in this veritable garden with plenty of room to grow he had thrived, branching out in every direction he could.

For the first time in his life he felt he had a reputation to uphold.

“Please, ba- Alastor. You know you can tell me anything. What did he call you? I can talk to the principal, and he can be punished properly,” his mama pleaded. Alastor looked down at his untouched food and felt his will begin to crumble in the face of her sincerity.

“Please, mama. Don’t make me say it. It was embarrassing enough, as is. Besides, Mr. Greene doesn’t care about me.” In a way it was true. Alastor was a gifted student – made good grades, involved himself in extracurricular activities like band and theater, and didn’t cause much trouble. If he struggled he was just one squeaky hinge in a room full of slamming doors.

“I care about you! And if something has you actin’ a fool then I need to know about it!” She gripped the edge of the table hard enough that the silverware rattled with the force of it.

Alastor's temper flared – a desperate attempt to cover the shame that flooded his senses. He couldn’t tell her, and she didn’t need to know!

Still, the words echoed through his mind, and he hated how they fit just enough to chafe.

Uptight, little, virgin twink!

It seemed the older he got, the more unusual it was that he hadn’t shown an interest in dating, and the less enlightened of his colleagues took issue with it. As for the last part… Well surely that was more a comment on his appearance than any preferences… Right?

Embarrassed and angry he snapped, raising his voice, “Why should I tell you anything when you won’t even tell me the real reason we moved?!”

Every ounce of wind was knocked out of Dorothy’s sails in a moment, and she was left wide eyed and slack-jawed, no paddle in sight.

Alastor stood from his seat, leaning over the food steadily getting cold. “I’m not stupid! I know my father was released from prison a few months ago, and you would rather uproot our whole lives than face him! How am I supposed to learn to be a man if all you can teach me is how to be a coward?!”

The moment the words left his mouth he was horrified with himself. His pride warred with love for his mother who had sacrificed everything just to give him a good life. He watched as her face turned cold and composed, a frightening sight on a woman usually so expressive.

“You don't know what you're talking about, Alastor Gabriel Abernathy. You have no idea what that man is –” his mother paused, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as her composure cracked, eyes squeezing shut. She took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes, her icy mask was back in place. I’m going to give you one chance to go to your room and really think about what you just said and how foolish you sound right now. Get out of my sight.”

“Mama, I-”

”Now.”

Without another word Alastor stormed off to his room, a short march in the small apartment. He slammed the door behind him with enough force to rattle the walls before falling into his desk chair in a huff.

He ran his hands through his hair, gripping the strands in his fingers until his scalp tingled with pain.

His thoughts raced in a dozen directions. Why hadn’t she just told him the truth in the first place? Why was she so afraid of his father? Alastor was 15 now, couldn’t she trust him? Or could she sense the part of him deep inside that just felt wrong. Like a void that couldn’t be filled – something inherently broken or missing, and she somehow knew he’d do something… something drastic if he met his father. Was it actually Alastor she was afraid of?

A loud thunk against the window behind him snapped him from his quickly spiralling mental state.

Standing, he slowly made his way to the window. They lived on the fourth floor, and occasionally birds would fly into the glass. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw a flash of white feathers struggling on the window ledge in the semi-darkness outside. Perhaps he could use the body to enact a little more revenge once it died.

Leaving the bird to its demise, Alastor turned back to face his desk, and noticed that something was wrong. With the lamp positioned on the desk the way it was, his shadow should have been cast behind him. His blood froze as he watched the shadow on the wall in front of him… move.

It fucking moved.

Alastor was not moving, outside of the sudden hyperventilation.

About his same height, the apparition had silhouetted eyes and a sharp mouth cut into a grimace. It slid along the wall to get closer and Alastor stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling to the floor in fear. “What the hell?!”

The entity crossed its arms in…disapproval?

That’s it. I’m actually going insane. I’m so broken that I’m hallucinating.

Alastor scrambled around to put the bed between him and the shadow that started to look less like it was going to devour his soul and more like it was about to give him a lecture. And for some unfathomable reason, this shadow felt familiar, which made no sense at all – unless it really was a figment of his imagination. Then he supposed it would just be an extension of himself.

“You’re not real…” He closed his eyes, trying to empty his thoughts as though that would dismiss the apparition in front of him. When he opened them again it was tilting its head, tapping its fingers against its arm looking for all the world like it was just waiting for Alastor to get it together.

Once it realized it had his attention, it put a finger to its lips and pointed toward his bedroom door.

“Wh- what do you want?” he croaked, starting to wonder if interacting with the thing would bring him out of this psychosis or make it even worse.

He startled further at a frantic tapping at his window. The dove had recovered and was now pecking against the glass, and his grip on reality tilted precariously on its axis when he saw the shadow shoot angry gestures at it, shaking its head and pointing at Alastor.

This is just a nightmare. It has to be. I’ll wake up any second now.

He slapped himself across the face – the sting buzzing on his skin, and yet the shadow was still there, glaring down at him. Once again it pointed to his bedroom door, bringing its other hand up to its long, pointed ear.

“You… want me to listen at the door?”

A short, jerky nod confirmed his question. He didn’t want to move any closer to the figure, but he feared more what it would do if he didn’t obey.

Alastor crawled on hands and knees to the door. Leaning in close, he held his breath as he tried to hear past his heart beating loudly in his ears.

In the room beyond he could just make out quiet sobbing among the clatter of dishes being washed. The sound sent him reeling, crushed with overwhelming guilt.

He pulled away, unable to make himself listen further. His eyes glazed over with tears, and he scrubbed them away harshly, unwilling to show weakness in front of whatever ghostly horror had invaded his room.

“So what are you? Some manifestation of my consciousness here to rub in my face that I made my mother cry? I have to say, I think the dramatics are entirely unnecessary. I already feel like a failure, as is.”

The shadow looked unimpressed, merely crossing its arms again and gazing down at him expectantly. Could the thing not talk? Only point and glower menacingly? What good was that? If his subconscious was trying to teach him a lesson he’d assume it would do a better job than this.

Alastor brought himself to his feet, rising irritation giving him the courage to meet it face to face. “So what? The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come materializes in my room, and I’m supposed to forgive and forget? She never talks about my father – won’t tell me why she’s obviously scared of him! How am I meant to be the man of the house if she’s sheltered me from the truth my whole life?”

The shadow made a series of motions that Alastor took to mean that he was getting caught up in his own deflections – that this wasn’t what his mother had been upset about in the first place, only the tool he had used to lash out at her. For a being who couldn’t speak with words it’s intentions with each motion were curiously comprehensible. He had no issue understanding its meaning, and the logic behind its argument helped settle his temper even if he was still worried he was going mad.

If he was going mad, at least he could use it to his advantage.

Alastor began to pace back and forth across the short expanse of his room, gesticulating with his hands. “You’re right… it’s not the point. I just… don’t want her to worry about me. I want to show her how strong I am, that I can take care of myself, that I’m not some maladjusted creep.” like people say I am he purposefully left out, though this creature seemed as though it could read him like a book.

“(And how is yelling at the one person on your side serving any of your goals?)” The creature mimed, somehow conveying its own exasperation with each motion.

Alastor slumped onto his mattress, head in his hands. “I lost my composure. I should have known better, but why did she have to press me for answers I didn’t want to give?”

The shadow rolled its eyes to the heavens, puffing with frustration. (“She’s your mother. Of course she wants to know. If you want to cover your tracks at least do it without making a fool of yourself.”)

The sentiment rankled against Alastor’s pride like a cat rubbed against the grain of it’s fur, and he wanted to hiss back, yet he knew it was right. He had gone about this all wrong. His mama deserved better than a son who would willfully stab at her vulnerabilities, especially when she had done her best for him his whole life.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves he straightened his posture, readying himself.

“I’ll have to apologize for my outburst.” The shadow nodded its head in a way that conveyed that the sentiment was a given, and he would have been an imbecile for coming to any other conclusion. “Maybe if I show some accountability she’ll tell me more. I just want to know why she would go so far as to move us here just to escape one man, but I’ll never get answers behaving as I did tonight. I’ll start with sorry, and move on from there.”

Alastor strode to his bedroom door, pausing as he put his hand on the door knob. The shadow slinked its way to the window where the white dove was still staring inside.

If this is some sort of mental break, I wonder what the dove symbolizes.

“Is the bird yours?” He asked, pointing at it, head tilted in interest. The shadow nodded enthusiastically, its grin splitting wide across its face. It jittered up and down as though giggling.

Am I schizophrenic?

The dove tapped its beak on the window again almost like it was irritated, and the shadow pulled its expression into something a little less maniacal. It urged Alastor on with a dismissive wave, staying until he opened the door to go have yet another difficult conversation with his mama.

Hopefully this one would be more productive, his apparent mental illness notwithstanding.

Many hours later that night he came back to his room having all the answers he had asked for and more. The shadow and the dove were gone, and Alastor was left with a tiny seed of wrath planted deep in his heart. As he laid down in bed he had but one thought.

I swear to God I’ll kill him.

***

“What the fuck was that???”

Lucifer stalked back and forth across his Atlanta penthouse. Hey, If he had to live in the city now he would at least do it in style.

Ansel was looking far too pleased with himself after dropping in on Alastor.

“We agreed. No intervening on emotional matters! He has to figure some shit out for himself. It's imperative to human development!”

His horns were just starting to peek from his forehead and his eyes threatened to invert, but it seemed no matter how angry he was, Ansel refused to repent.

“(Oh, yes. Remind me how your little cat escapades are exempt from the rules again? What about the instruments? We're really building moral backbone with those.)”

In the past 15 years Lucifer had gotten considerably better at parsing together the shadow's gestures. While communication was far from seamless, it was a marked improvement from their early years.

Which made it all the more perplexing why Alastor had no problem understanding him. Maybe they were still connected in some way? Ansel was a severed piece of The Radio Demon's soul, perhaps-

Not right now. Now he had a bone to pick.

He advanced on Ansel, who was lounging on the silhouette of the settee on the wall. To anyone else the feng shui of Lucifer's apartment would seem odd, but he made sure to give the shadow “furniture” of his own. “Fine. Those maybe weren't exactly necessary, but they're a far cry from a magical, sentient shadow showing up in his room to give life advice!”

Ansel waved a dismissive hand. (“He'll find out about us eventually, and he's more than old enough. We were 13 when we originally started dabbling in black magic. Or were you planning on sheltering him like you do the Princess?”)

That brought the Devil's more demonic attributes out in full. “That's different, and you know it! I didn't get to be there for Charlie for far too much of her childhood. I needed to make up for lost time! Most modern humans don’t even believe in magic anymore. You probably put him into some sort of crisis!”

Ansel’s antlers grew a few tines and his smile stretched eerily across his face. (”Stop babying him! Once he falls back to Hell he won’t thank you for delaying his plans!”)

Lucifer stared blankly, the gears visibly turning in his head for one second, two, three, four…

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Ansel silently screeched, banging his head violently on the shadow of the settee. The air around them charged with static caused by his frustration, making the flyaways in Lucifer’s hair stand on end.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Lucifer put his hands against the wall in a fruitless effort to stop the shadow’s tantrum. “Look, we’ll tell him soon, okay? I just want to give him a good life while he’s here. Imagine being in the middle of the most formative years of your life when the literal Devil comes to tell you you’re the reincarnated soul of a powerful and infamous demon. Oh! And also we were engaged! I’m sure that would give him a lot of fodder for his 10th grade creative writing class!”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, fortifying breath and letting his horns and tail sink back into his skin. When he opened them again Ansel had stilled, his ears hanging low in defeat. Lucifer leaned his forehead against the wall, fighting back a swell of hopelessness, himself.

“I know you’re from a different time. Hell, so am I – but let’s just play by the rules for a little bit longer, okay?”

What he didn’t say is that this Alastor was so innocent – so different from the man he knew before. Sure, there were similarities – quirks, mannerisms, and preferences that had somehow been so ingrained into Alastor’s soul that they had carried over. At least, that was Lucifer’s hypothesis.

But looking at this version of Alastor felt like taking a trip back in time, before life and Hell had hardened him into the sinner he had become.

Lucifer remembered late nights when his Alastor’s tongue had been loosened by one too many glasses of whiskey. He revealed details of his previous human life, and Lucifer had coveted them like precious gems. Stories he had ferreted away about his lover growing up poor in the bayous of Louisiana, being drafted into the Great War, the discrimination he faced as a man of mixed descent in the early 20th century.

By comparison this Alastor had the opportunity to face life with much less adversity. And perhaps without those obstacles in his way, he really could be redeemed…

Who am I to say that Alastor has to come back to Hell? Wouldn’t he be happier in heaven?

Lucifer had yet to discover why Alastor had told him to find him. To his knowledge there was no way to recover his memories, so wouldn’t it be better for him to end up in paradise with his mother? Dorothy was certainly slotted to enter the pearly gates. Lucifer could only sense minor sins on her soul – nothing so bad as to have her sent to his realm.

Could he give Alastor up forever? The very thought was painful enough to send him right up to the edge of the void in an instant. He knew it would ruin him – possibly forever. Losing Lilith had felt like being put on a rack – a torturously slow process being hurt over the course of thousands of years until one day she was gone without a word. The tension made slack, and he was finally allowed to piece himself back together.

Losing Alastor felt more like a gunshot to the chest – sudden, violent, and final. Their life together over in the blink of an eye in the cosmic scale, and yet he couldn’t help but think how much worse it would be. Could he do that to himself?

If it were best for him… I would.

He had obviously been fretting in his own head for too long because Ansel moved from the wall to curl around his body in apology. Lucifer wrapped his arms around himself in the closest approximation of a hug they could manage.

“It’s okay, Ans. Just give it a few more years. Then… Well, I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Chapter Text

Alastor slogged down the streets of Atlanta with a trombone, trumpet, and saxophone strapped to his back, feeling for all the world like a pack mule, but he had far too much on his mind to worry about his physical burdens.

At the moment he was on his way to a gig at one of the local bars. He and a few colleagues had formed a jazz band, and hired themselves out whenever they could for spare cash. Alastor may have performed well enough in school to get a full ride into Georgia State’s music program, but now that he was an adult he wanted to help Mama out as much as he could – despite her continued protests that he should focus solely on finishing his degree.

He was in his last year of college with finals just around the corner. As a senior Music Performance major that meant that he had to perform an hour long recital for the entire department, something he had been preparing for for the better part of the past two years – putting together a setlist, contacting accompanists, and spending every spare waking hour in a practice room.

He had defended himself, saying that it wasn’t just about the money. Gigging helped him build connections, and the more he played for an audience the less nerves he would have when it came time for his recital.

Truth be told, he really did it because it was the one thing in this world he genuinely loved. Performing for an audience, donning his stage persona that everyone seemed to adore, showing off his talent that he had worked relentlessly to hone. It was addicting, gaining praise for something he felt he had earned.

That didn’t keep him from feeling so tired – Weary down to his marrow, but there was simply no time to rest. Not when there was so much more to be done.

He was buried deep in his own ruminations, tacking more items to his mental to-do list, when the blare of a truck horn shocked him to attention. His head snapped up and turned towards the sound – he had wandered into the crosswalk without thinking.

Shit.

The truck was too fast, his reaction time too slow, his instruments too heavy. He couldn’t dodge this.

This was it.

Like a deer in the headlights, Alastor froze. A single thought clawed at his psyche in the breath before disaster:

I’m not ready to die yet!

Suddenly strong hands yanked him backwards, sending him stumbling to safety. He felt the breeze as the truck swerved by, horn blaring as it passed.

He stared up at the smog-choked sky in disbelief.

“Oof!... I made it.” A voice gasped from underneath him.

I’m alive.

The pain in his back and breath in his lungs was proof of it. He put a hand to his chest just to feel his heart beating, fast and steady.

The shot of pure adrenaline in his veins began to ebb. With that important revelation out of the way, he was suddenly very aware that he was sprawled on top of a stranger.

He sprung inelegantly to his feet, sparing a thought for the condition of his instruments. He may be glad they were all in hard cases, but he was sure the person who had just been crushed by them didn’t share the sentiment. He readjusted them on his shoulders, turning around to lend a hand to his savior.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay? I wasn’t paying attention to-” Alastor stopped in his tracks as he got a good look at the man catching his breath on the ground.

Golden hair that shimmered in the lamplight, flawless, porcelain skin that looked like it had never been touched by the sun, and those unusual tawny eyes that almost seemed to glow from within. It had been nearly 14 years, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

“Lu???”

________________

That could have been really bad. Lucifer was thanking every single star in the sky that he had thought to infuse a dash of precognition into Alastor’s protection glyph. He laid on the ground, slightly dazed after being crushed by a full grown man, and what looked to be about 50 pounds of musical equipment.

Far from his most graceful rescue, but that didn’t really matter. He decidedly preferred his pancakes not Alastor shaped.

It took him a second to realize that his name had been called.

Oh shit. He recognizes me.

Did he play it off? Pretend not to remember? No, that would be stupid. He looked up into those dark chocolate eyes and was stunned to see how excited Alastor looked, like he was thrilled to have run into his old, childhood friend. Had ‘Lu’ really left that much of an impression with only one interaction?

Perhaps this was his chance. He had been struggling to decide just how he would reenter Alastor’s life. It had been a point of contention between himself and Ansel for a few years now, the shadow arguing incessantly that Alastor was an adult.That he was more than capable of understanding the truth, that Lucifer should just get on with it!

Was it selfish that Lucifer wanted him to enjoy all of what a normal human life could be? Ansel certainly seemed to think as much, but he couldn’t justify ruining what little peace and success Alastor had forged for himself here on Earth.

The self depreciating voice in his head screamed at him to not fuck everything up like he always seemed to.

No, no. Not the time or place for that kind of thinking.

Alastor was starting to look more concerned, like perhaps he had the wrong person, or more likely that he had just knocked the wits out of Lu’s head with that tumble.

Lucifer decided to play it neutral. Play the part of “long lost companion” for now.

Pretty easy since it was practically the truth.

“Alastor! Long time no see!” He said just a little too loudly, but with a solid attempt at an easy smile, marred by the fact that he was still sitting on the ground.

Alastor’s relief was palpable as he offered Lucifer a hand up, shifting the cases further up his shoulder so they wouldn't fall and squash him again.“You certainly have a habit of showing up when I’m in life-threatening peril.”

Lucifer took his hand gratefully, hoisting himself back to his feet, and brushing himself off. “We really can’t keep meeting like this. Have you tried not putting yourself in danger?”

“Have you tried drinking more milk? I don’t think you’ve grown a single inch since we last met as children!” Alastor quipped back, chuckling at his own oh so original joke.

Lucifer rolled his eyes so far back that it hurt. It seemed every iteration of Alastor couldn’t deny themselves the pleasure of a low blow… No pun intended. “No, actually. There’s a national shortage because you drank it all, you fucking giraffe.”

There was a single beat of silence before they both doubled over laughing. The tension from the near-death experience dissipated almost entirely.

It felt intoxicating – like no time had passed between them. If Lucifer closed his eyes he could imagine them having this very conversation back in their room at the hotel.

A dangerous line of thought, that. He reminded himself for the nth time that this wasn’t his Alastor, no matter how much it felt like him.

“I’m afraid I’m in your debt once again,”Alastor said, wiping a tear from his eye. “Are you busy right now? I’m on my way to a gig a couple blocks down. Let me get you a drink. It’s the least I can do.”

“Sure! Yeah! No, I’m not busy! Lead the way,” Lucifer answered, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically. Just so he wouldn’t seem overeager, he added, “Just remember to look both ways when you cross the street this time.”

Alastor scoffed, and they fell into step together.

“That looks heavy. I can carry something for you,” Lucifer offered, seeing how Alastor’s back was slightly bowed under the weight of the instruments.

He pulled a case off his shoulder and handed it over, making a strange face as Lucifer hoisted it on his back. “What?”

“I don’t normally trust people with my instruments,” he said hesitantly, his eyes looking a little distant as they resumed walking.

Lucifer tried to ignore the way that made his heart palpitate, choosing to cover it with humor. “Aww! Does that make me special?”

Alastor didn’t respond right away, like he was actually turning the question over in his mind. “It certainly makes you an anomaly.”

“That’s an awfully clinical way to say ‘special’, but I’ll take the compliment for what it is.” Lucifer plastered a smug grin across his face, covering for the way the comment made him really feel. True to form, Alastor’s compliments were backhanded, but Lucifer spoke fluent ‘Alastorese’. Almost all of his roses came with thorns, but smelled just as sweet.

Alastor’s grin tightened around the edges, but Lucifer didn’t miss the amused sparkle in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to keep the conversation going, but Alastor stopped in front of the nearest building – the entrance embedded in the mouth of a giant, screaming skull with hypnotic patterns in its empty eyes. Alastor held the door open, gesturing Lucifer inside with a graceful wave of his hand.

“After you.”

“What a gentleman,” Lucifer said with a playful curtsy. He stepped inside.

The inside of the bar wasn’t quite what Lucifer expected, but on second thought he supposed he shouldn’t have assumed it would look like the jazz clubs and speakeasies that his Alastor had taken him to in Hell – a snapshot of a time more than a hundred years past. This place was busy on the eyes. Aluminum signs carrying the name of every brand of booze, intricate displays of skeletons on motorcycles, and other various tchotchke cluttered the walls, the bar, and even the ceiling. It seemed there wasn’t a spare inch of space that hadn’t been filled by something.

Lucifer was snapped from his reverie by a hand on his back, guiding him further into the neon lit fever dream.

“I take it you’ve never been to The Vortex before, Florida Boy?” Alastor questioned, raising his voice to be heard over the rumbling din of the restaurant. “It’s practically a Georgia state landmark.”

“I haven’t,” Lucifer answered, trying to take it all in. “What an apt name.” He privately thought that this place would fit right in down in Hell. His eyes couldn’t find a single place to land, so he opted to look up at Alastor who was grinning with amusement.

___________

Alastor pushed Lu forward, past the crowds to a more secluded stage area where his bandmates were setting up. He told himself that the casual contact was merely to move the man along more quickly, though it was rather endearing entertaining the way Lu’s eyes darted about the cacophony of the bar like a meek, little lamb.

As they ascended the platform Alastor’s band members perked up, greeting him jovially and casting curious glances at Lucifer. He braced himself for what surely would be an awkward encounter. His colleagues had a way of being far too personal.

“Alastor!” Julie exclaimed far too loudly for his taste. “Who is this little cutie you brought with you?”

He groaned inwardly. He really should have thought of this before inviting Lu along. Mixing social circles was always a mistake. It made it so much harder to control the situation. “This is my acquaintance, Lu. Lu, this is Julie, our percussionist. There’s Vin, our bassist, Josh on guitar, and Michelle is our vocalist, though I also sing back-up.”

“And Alastor here is our golden child, the man of many talents,” Juile said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. ”Tell us, Al, is there anything you can’t do?”

“I haven’t found anything, yet,” he said with a casual shrug, taking the opportunity to brag. Just a little. He had a sinking feeling Juile was attempting to play wingman.

With everyone properly introduced, Alastor turned to start preparing his place on the stage, putting down the two cases on his back. He froze when he realized Lu was still holding onto his saxophone.

Alastor’s instruments were his prized possessions. He had scraped each and every penny he got his hands on to buy each one and treated them as if they were his children, not even letting his bandmates put their grubby, little hands on them. And yet… He had just handed one of them off to Lu on instinct. Without a second thought until it had already happened.

What on God’s green earth possessed me to let him carry it?

He turned to retrieve it, mentally chastising himself for his carelessness, only to see Julie further harassing his guest.

She nudged Lu with an elbow playfully, crowding into his space, “Alastor has never brought anyone to our shows before! How’d you manage to get the giant stick out of his ass?”

Lucifer giggled, “It’s surprisingly easy. All you have to do is stroke his ego, and save his life a couple times.”

Alastor scoffed, narrowing his eyes and holding out a hand for his saxophone. “Very funny. I’ll be taking that back, thank you.”

Lu took the saxophone case off his back, and gave it over to Alastor. Every eye in the room tracked the motion before settling back on Alastor. Four jaws dropped to the floor.

“It’s gotta be the giant stick you put in his ass, isn't it?!” Julie exclaimed. “That’s the only way he let you touch his sax.”

“Julie!” Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. He glared daggers, wanting to take the words and shove them back down her throat. Worse, he felt the heat flushing his face, his body betraying him worse than she had with her crass implications.

“Aww! Allie! Do you have a crush?” Julie egged him on. She had an infuriating habit of trying to get under his skin, and if she weren’t the best damn drummer in the music program he would have kicked her out of the band long ago.

“N-no! Of course not,” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. What an absolutely ridiculous notion. He was merely repaying a debt. Catching up with an old friend at most. Lu just happened to be good company, and maybe it felt nice to share his music with him, show off his achievements. But a crush? Never. He barely knew the man.

In the corner of his eye he swore he saw Lu’s face glowing a gentle, golden light, but when he focused on him directly he saw that the tops of his cheeks were only dusted pink.

Lu interjected, perhaps trying to put Alastor out of his misery. “No, no! I’m just an old friend! We’re not- it’s not like… that. Haha.” He cleared his throat, interlacing his fingers together and twiddling them in that anxious way of his.

Yes. This was certainly a mistake.

Michelle cut in, waving a dismissive hand, “Julie, if you’re done antagonizing Alastor, we have a show to do. Don’t forget how hard it was to book this place.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she whined as she made her way to the back of the set.

“Your friends certainly know how to make an impression.” Lu chuckled.

“Ignore her. She’s nosy, but she’s good at what she does.” Alastor still made a mental note to make their next practice session a living hell for her. “Why don’t you take a seat? If you want a drink, ask the bartender to put it on my tab. Get whatever you want.”

Lu gave him a soft smile, and stepped back through the crowd to the bar. Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose, a migraine threatening to ruin the rest of his night. He took a deep breath to center himself before finishing setting up.

He was surprised a few moments later when a water bottle and a glass of whiskey were shoved into his line of sight. He took them out of Lu’s hands, taking a swig of each, grimacing at the burn of straight alcohol as it ran down his throat.

“Break a leg,” Lu said with a wink. He retreated to a nearby table to watch, and suddenly Alastor was hyper-aware that he was being observed. He never got stage fright. Never cared how many people were in an audience, only focusing on giving his best performance. Now every motion he made felt deliberate. He closed his eyes, shaking off the jitters. He was better than this.

He imagined the mask of his stage persona falling into place, covering his skin like a well-tailored suit. He was Alastor Abernathy – calm, charismatic, controlled. People liked him because he gave them what they wanted to see. He felt the tightness in his chest ease.

It was time. Michelle announced their band, and everyone quieted, waiting to see if this ragtag bunch of college students was any good.

_____________

Alastor’s band was fantastic. Lucifer sat in the audience completely awestruck, reveling in the soothing blend of sounds coming from the stage. And Alastor! He switched between each instrument as easy as breathing. A steady thrum of pride pumped through Lucifer’s veins.

Perhaps he had no business being proud of the man in front of him. He really had no part in his talent and success, but he couldn’t help the pleased curl of warmth sitting in his heart.

A feeling he had felt many times watching his Alastor show off in the past.

Ugh. Another thought to sour his good mood. He took another long sip of his drink like it would wash it down the thought.

He made himself live in the moment, here with this version of Alastor. The one that was just starting to figure out his place in this world, and what a beautiful thing it was to behold.

Alastor took the mic for the final song of the set.

A chill ran down Lucifer’s spine when he heard the opening notes ring through the air. He had heard Alastor sing this song before, he had even performed it for him on multiple occasions. It was one of his favorites, and the lyrics felt far too on the nose on a night like tonight.

We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

They locked eyes from across the room, Lucifer frozen in place by Alastor’s warm gaze. It felt like too much, too real. His vision blurred with tears, obscuring the scene before him. He downed the rest of his drink in an attempt to cover the wild rush of emotions threatening to make him look incredibly foolish.

Get a grip, Morningstar.

He felt like he was living in two moments at once. Half of him sat here in this obnoxiously decorated bar, listening to the warm timbre of Alastor’s natural voice wash over him like a tidal wave ready to sweep him out to sea. The other half sat next to The Radio Demon on a piano bench in the hotel’s recreation room, static buzzing pleasantly in the air, content and happy like that moment would last an eternity.

He didn’t realize the song had ended until applause rang out from the crowd.

So much for living in the moment.

Maybe coming here was a mistake. Saving Alastor from being flattened by a truck, absolutely not, but being here – getting entangled in his life? What was he doing? Becoming a sad, blubbering mess at the smallest of things was decidedly not charming. Was he even trying to be charming?

Maybe… Maybe I should just go back to Hell. Let him sink or swim by his own means.

Another drink was plopped in front of him, snapping him from his downward spiral. Lucifer looked up to see the object of his distress staring down at him with a mixture of concern and irritation.

“You look lost in thought. I hope our set wasn’t too boring for you.”

“No! No, you’re amazing! I mean IT was amazing! Haha!” He desperately wished to portal away.

Alastor sat down in the chair next to him, raising an eyebrow like he didn’t quite believe him, bringing his own drink to his lips. Lucifer was surprised to see Alastor hadn’t gotten another whiskey, but an apple ale, instead.

Interesting choice.

“Something seems to have gotten to you,” Alastor stated simply. A hook if Lucifer ever saw one. He delayed by taking a sip of his new drink, weighing just how much to say as he hesitantly took the bait.

“That last song was a favorite of my late fiance. Hearing it brought up some old emotions.”

Alastor winced, having the grace to look a little guilty. “I see. I’m sorry.”

A moment of awkward silence passed before he added, ”You’re awfully young to have been engaged.”

Lucifer chuckled wistfully, looking down at the two rings that adorned his left and right ring fingers. “I’m older than I look.”

Just how much older, he wasn’t going to say. Let Alastor make his own assumptions on that little tidbit of information.

“Ah, pardon me for assuming, but someone of your stature must be confused for a child fairly often,” Alastor quipped with that signature, shit-eating smirk.

“You’re such an ass!” And just like that the tension was released. All thoughts of mistakes and regrets gone, left to linger on a different day.

“Well, I nearly died today, so I’d like to celebrate.” Alastor raised his glass. “To you, my friend, for granting me a few more years on this rock. I would have hated to die when there’s so much left to be done.”

They clinked their glasses together, and the rest of the night was spent catching up if by “catching up” you meant Alastor bringing him up to speed on the highlights from the past 14 years, and Lucifer fumbling his way through a few passible lies for whatever ‘Lu’ was doing.

If there was one major difference that Lucifer noticed, it was that alcohol tolerance was certainly not a trait that could be passed down through reincarnation. Or at least it wasn’t important enough to Alastor to gain that particular trait.

Five drinks in and his tongue was not only loose, but downright sloppy. He swayed in his seat as he regaled Lucifer with his nefarious deeds from high school, all Lu’s influence, apparently.

“So, because you convinced me it was a good idea, I shtarted putting roadkill in the bully's lockers. Even strung them up like little black magic charms, so they’d think they were being cursed by a witch or something.”

Lucifer scoffed, putting a hand to his chest in mock offence. “My idea!? You’re the one who tore the head off that deer! Don’t blame me for your serial killer behavior, that’s all you.”

Alastor leaned in, poking Lucifer in the chest. “No. No, you’re the one who told me to get revenge. Your fault.”

He was so close that Lucifer could smell the sweet aroma of fermented apples on his breath. Far too close.

“I think it’s time we get you home. You’re gonna want to sleep this off if you plan on going to class tomorrow.” He mentally applauded himself. That sounded downright responsible of him. It also led Alastor to pull back a few blessed inches.

Alastor narrowed his eyes and for a moment Lucifer feared he would have to argue with a drunk man. That never ended well. But instead Alastor nodded, acquiescing to good sense. He made to stand, stumbling a little before finding his feet.

Lucifer wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. He told himself it was purely out of necessity, and looking at Alastor stumbling about like a newborn fawn he could say with confidence that it wasn’t just an excuse to get closer.

“I need to get my instruments,” Alastor slurred, starting to look a little distressed. Lucifer made him sit back down in his chair, putting both hands on his shoulders to keep him in place.

“I’ll get them.”

“But-”

“Hey, Al. You trust me, right?”

That was perhaps the wrong thing to say. Alastor’s eyebrows knit together, gazing up at Lucifer like he had just asked him about a deep, philosophical dilemma – his own personal Trolley Problem.

After a moment of what looked like agonizing internal debate he answered, “Yes? I don’t understand, but I trust you more than anyone. What’s wrong with you?”

Lucifer snorted, holding back a belly laugh that would surely earn him more than just a dirty look. Leave it to Alastor to think the problem lies not within himself, but in the one person he apparently inherently trusted. Whether it was a problem at all was still up for debate, but Lucifer certainly saw it as a win at this moment.

“That would take too long to answer. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Alastor nodded, still looking perturbed. Meanwhile, Lucifer rounded up all the instruments, already packed away in their cases. He hoisted them over his back, easing the weight with use of a little angelic strength. All of Alastor’s bandmates had already left for the night, and based on their reactions to him earlier, he could only guess that they were giving Alastor space for this supposed “date”. Lucifer shook his head at the very concept.

Getting all this equipment and a highly intoxicated Alastor back home would be harder than anticipated.

“Nothing left but to do it, I suppose,” he muttered to himself.

Alastor was still moping when he got back to their table, but brightened visibly when he saw Lucifer approach. “Can you walk, Al?”

“Of courrsse. Whaddoyou take me for, an invalid?” He looked up at Lucifer with glazed over eyes and a dopey smile. He lurched to his feet, barely catching himself on the table. Lucifer looked at him doubtfully as he swayed on wobbly knees.

He had never seen Alastor like this, but he supposed that he had more than a century of rigorously tested alcohol tolerance before they’d met in Hell. That had been all washed clean after the reincarnation, and though Lucifer was fuzzy on Earth laws, he was pretty sure Alastor could only legally drink after his last birthday. It was no wonder he didn’t know his own limits, yet.

“No, never that. You’re incredibly competent in every way that doesn’t require walking in a straight line.” That earned him another pout, and he tried not to think how cute that expression was on a face normally so composed. Lucifer sighed. It looked like there was only one way to do this.

He shuffled the instruments to his front, freeing up his back. He turned around and crouched down. Looking over his shoulder he smirked. “All aboard the tipsy train.”

Alastor was just sober enough to look affronted. “You are not giving me a piggyback ride.”

“I don’t want to pull you out of oncoming traffic again. Hop on.”

Lucifer expected more of an argument, so it was a surprise when he felt long gangly limbs clammer onto his back and a sharp shin dig into his shoulder. He almost turned to look, but he felt hot, apple scented breath ghost over the sensitive skin of his neck.

“Juss like old times, right?” Alastor mumbled right into Lucifer’s ear. A full body shiver wracked his frame, and he tried to hide it by hoisting Alastor’s limp body more comfortably on his back.

“Yeah-” his voice cracked, and he coughed to clear it. “Yeah, just like old times.”

______________

Alastor felt warm and dizzy. The world spun pleasantly around him, and for the first time since childhood he gave himself permission to let go of the white-knuckled grip he had on his emotions.

The din of the bar gave way to the sounds of cars passing and late night revelers in the street. They must have made it outside. He cracked open an eye. Sure enough they were on the sidewalk – or rather, Lu was on the sidewalk and he was sprawled out on his back like an oversized cat.

He had a passing thought that they must look utterly ridiculous to anyone else. Lu couldn’t be taller than 5’3”, maybe 5’4”, a full foot shorter than Alastor, himself, and here he was – three instruments strapped to his front, and a full grown man on his back. His personal beast of burden.

He must work out with the way he carried them so effortlessly. His gait made only slightly awkward not by weight but by bulk. Alastor tightened his hold around the smaller man’s body, just to see if he could feel any muscle behind that slender frame. Purely to confirm his suspicions. He chuckled mischievously when he heard Lu’s breath hitch in his throat.

“You’re my own little carrier pigeon.”

Lu huffed, but the tension never left his body. “Keep that up and I’ll drop you. You can drag yourself home.”

Alastor hummed in disagreement. “No you wouldn’t, Pidge.”

He could feel Lu’s eye roll even if he couldn’t see it. There was something so enticing about getting under the man’s skin, a back and forth he never seemed to manage with anyone else, a playfulness that he never realized he had craved before.

Most people found Alastor abrasive, too sharp and cutting for his own good, but Lu always gave as good as he got. It was… attractive enchanting entertaining.

Alastor closed his eyes again, letting the steady rhythm of Lu’s footsteps lull him back into dizzy bliss. This close he could smell Lu’s cologne. An odd mixture of apples and spice, ozone and smoke. A vague memory stirred, one that felt just out of reach, slipping through his fingers intangibly.

What was it about this man that allowed him to let down his guard like this? On any other occasion he would be positively mortified.

Not too late for that, he supposed. Who knew how he’d feel in the morning?

Time seemed to warp around him, the walk seeming to take hours, and yet only a few spare minutes. Soon he felt himself lowered into the soft plushness of what he could only assume was a bed. Was it his bed? Lu’s? He didn’t remember telling Lu where he lived. His eyes felt too heavy to open, so he trusted that wherever he was he was safe.

The peace was only broken by a whispered argument from somewhere far away. He caught only a fragment before drifting off to sleep.

“... kidding me? I can’t tell him now…”

silence

“What do you even want me to do? He’s smashed.”

more silence

“... Just have to wait… Soon, I promise.”

The strange back and forth bothered Alastor enough to crack open one eye, confirming that he was in his own apartment. He couldn’t see much of anything else, and decided that Lu must have taken a phone call. But surely that had been a conversation about him…

He drifted once again to the embrace of darkness. That night he dreamt of living shadows and white pigeons, chains and a glowing dagger.

____________

Lucifer collapsed onto his bed in his own apartment that night. His thoughts were plagued by Alastors of past, present, and future.

He decided it was time. He had come to an agreement with Ansel in the aftermath of tonight’s escapades. They would ease Alastor into the truth. Build his trust, and break it to him easy. The truth was such a complex thing, but that was why he had been sent here, right?

Exactly how he would tell Alastor the truth about his identity was still a work in progress, but it had been a long night, and that was a problem for Future Lucifer.

Instead he closed his eyes, and treated himself to one of his happiest memories. He tried not to get stuck in his own mindscape very often. Too often he had lost time there, sometimes spending years in his own head reliving better days.

Tonight he would indulge, just a little. Just enough to remind himself why he was here.

22 Years Ago

His nerves sung like a siren song. Tonight. Tonight had to be perfect.

Lucifer had planned this moment for more than a year after his last disastrous attempt at a proposal. He had gone about it all wrong before. It had been too public, too showy. He had made it all about him. Yes, that was where he went wrong.

They'd had a long conversation –well, more like an argument – when he had finally caught up to Alastor after putting out the fires in the hotel lobby. It had been hours of cutting through his lover’s ironclad defenses. Biting words, skillful obfuscation, and precisely aimed jabs at Lucifer’s soft underbelly had ended in a rare apology, tears, and a rather heated make-up.

There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that Alastor loved him. That much was clear not only through words but actions, as well. They had spent countless nights talking of all their wishes and plans for the future, and always were those plans entwined with each other, so this time Lucifer had no doubts.

This time he just knew it would go off without a hitch.

He pulled the ring box out of his pocket, opening it to assure himself the golden band was still there as if it would have gotten up and walked out in the last five minutes since he last checked.

He snapped the box shut again, and began to pace back and forth across Alastor’s – now their shared – room, stopping in front of a full-length mirror to triple check that his tie was straight.

“You've got this! You've come so far since last time! He’ll be so impressed with how much- AHH FUCK!”

Alastor had formed from the shadows directly behind him wearing a shit eating grin. Lucifer whipped around to face him, heart now in his throat. His demon tilted Lucifer’s chin up with a red-tipped claw to meet eyes glimmering with smug amusement.

“My, my! Four years of courtship and you still have to hype yourself up in the mirror before a date? Am I truly so intimidating, even after all this time?”

Lucifer couldn't help but ease into his touch, leaning up on tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to Alastor's mouth. Perhaps he did need to give himself a pep-talk, but Alastor had been making a sport of startling him since long before their romance – before their friendship, even – so while it still got the reaction his demon craved, he bounced back with ease. “You would like that, wouldn't you?”

“I must admit, garnering such a reaction from The King of Hell has its appeal.” His eyes widened as he saw the deep crimson blouse and black pants precisely tailored to accentuate Lucifer’s –ahem, assets. He spun Lucifer out from him, giving his angel an appreciative glance as he twirled in his hand. “My, my! Aren't you dressed to impress tonight? My colors really do suit you. Certainly better than that gaudy ringleader get-up you typically wear.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, smirking. This was another frequently used line in the script that had become their casual domesticity over the years. Being with Alastor could never be described as “boring”, but sometimes it was nice falling into expected patterns. What once riled Lucifer up had become endearing, especially when it had come with such a nice compliment.

“Maybe I just wanted tonight to feel extra special. You and Charlie have been working so hard hammering out the deal with Heaven.” He leaned into Alastor’s space, wrapping his arms around that sinfully slender waist, and dropping his voice to a growl. “Perhaps I wanted to reward you for being such a good boy.”

He felt the shiver run up Alastor’s spine, watched as his ears drooped to the sides of his head in submission. The Devil nibbled at his lover’s jaw, soothing the tiny pinpicks of pain with kisses on each pass. When he let his hands wander underneath the demon’s clothes to fondle the fluffy tail hidden there Alastor let out a smothered whimper, and it took every ounce of Lucifer’s willpower to remember that there was an order of operations for the night.

Dinner, then proposal, then I can bury myself in that decadent ass.

Alastor huffed in indignation when Lucifer took a deliberate step back, putting space between himself and temptation. “You’re off to an abysmal start. Perhaps I’ll find something better to do with my time than let you fumble around like a lovestruck teenager,” he spat through gritted teeth, straightening his jacket.

Lucifer chuckled and offered out a hand which Alastor took with less reluctance than his words suggested. “I promise it will be worth your while. Now come on. I have a surprise for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows and was pleased with the chuff of static that constituted one of Al’s reserved chuckles.

When Lucifer started leading him deeper into the bayou Alastor hummed in inquiry. “A night in, is it? With you so dressed up I almost expected another one of your feeble attempts to get me to enjoy one of those obscene restaurants in Lust.”

“Ha! No, I learned my lesson after the last time when you threatened to eat the waitress.”

Alastor tightened his grip on Lucifer’s hand possessively. “She was flirting with you. In front of me, no less! As if I were worth no more than the gum on the bottom of her shoe!”

Lucifer squeezed his hand back in reassurance. Truth be told, he had been tempted to let Alastor do it if it wouldn’t have put him on Ozzie’s shit list. He not-so-secretly enjoyed how possessive Alastor was of him. What a beautiful change it had been to feel so desired, even to the point of wanton violence. A swarm of butterflies fluttered in his chest at the thought.

He pushed aside the draping limbs of a weeping willow to reveal a table for two set in a small, idyllic clearing, and motioned Alastor through with a dramatic bow. The fireflies were just starting to come out, swaying in the light breeze, blinking out their call for a mate. Lucifer stole a glance at his love to admire the way his smile softened, soaking in the quiet peace of the moment. He knew dusk in the bayou was Alastor’s favorite time of day.

Perfect. Everything is going exactly as planned.

He pulled out Alastor’s chair for him, and poured him a glass of dry red wine before sitting in the seat across the table. With a snap of his fingers, the dinner he had painstakingly put together earlier in the day appeared in front of them. All of Al’s favorites: raw venison filets, shrimp and grits, a pot of jambalaya (Alastor's mother’s recipe which Lucifer had taken countless hours to perfect), and dark chocolate covered ladyfingers that he had picked up at Rosie’s.

Lucifer held his breath waiting for Alastor’s reaction. Knowing him, he could either be privately overjoyed, expecting nothing less from the man who had managed to win his heart,or he was suspicious – too much effort and affection had a tendency to make his demon flighty, like it was hiding some nefarious plan. He swallowed, hoping for the former.

To his relief, Alastor looked pleased. More than pleased! He went so far as to lean over the table and press a lingering kiss to Lucifer’s lips. The Devil mentally high-fived himself on a job well done, grinning against Alastor’s mouth.

“Now, now, don’t look too smug. The food could taste terrible.”

It didn’t. They talked and laughed for hours until the food was gone and they were both pleasantly stuffed, the buzz of wine thrumming through their veins.

It was time. They had fallen into companionable silence. There was only one thing left to do.

Lucifer’s nerves made a reappearance despite the date having gone even better than imagined. He steeled himself, deciding last minute on one final touch.

With another snap of his fingers the dishes disappeared, replaced by a small radio on top of the table. He stood, playfully bowing and offering out a hand for the second time that night.

“Dance with me? I’ll even let you pick the song.”

Candlelight danced in Alastor’s eyes as he accepted Lucifer’s hand. “Very well, darling, but I’m leading.”

Lucifer snickered, and let Alastor pull him into a simple two-step as the radio came alive with a song he recognised as one of Alastor’s favorites whenever he was in a particularly amorous mood. They glided around the clearing accompanied by the dulcet sounds of jazz clarinet.

Oh, isn't it heavenly, to share every scheme with you?
Be able to dine with you and dance with you and dream with you
Oh, isn't it heavenly?
Just heaven on earth to be with you

“A little ironic to play this while dancing with the Devil,” Lucifer quipped, easily keeping up with Alastor’s long strides. His demon laughed, a bright musical sound that seemed to dance in the air alongside them. Lucifer wanted to capture it, put this whole moment in a bottle to keep forever.

Oh, isn't it heavenly, to struggle and strive with you?
To have the delight to be, and right to be, alive with you
Oh, isn't it heavenly?
Just heaven on earth to be with you

Alastor’s smile softened. “The way I see it, being with you is as close to paradise as I’ll ever get.”

The rare flash of complete sincerity that only he got to see struck Lucifer to the bone, and all thoughts of the plan flew from his mind. He blurted out his deepest desire, the dam holding it back bursting underneath that carmine gaze.

“Marry me.”

The dance screeched to a halt, Alastor’s eyes blowing wide, the song skipping as though catching on a scratch in the record.

No use concealing-
No use concealing-
No use concealing-
Concealing-
Concealing-
Concealing-

Alastor snapped his head with a disturbing crackle of cartilage to glare at the radio, eyes turning black, dials spinning wildly. It shut off in a pop of static and smoke, whatever internal workings most likely destroyed beyond repair.

They were left in silence, only the sound of crickets and a gentle breeze rustling the branches of the willows around them.

Lucifer started to feel sick. Dinner threatened to come back up under the weight of the ball of anxiety now sitting in his stomach. He had ruined everything – the metaphorical bottle shattering to pieces around them in two words. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just be content with what they had instead of having this selfish need to claim Alastor like some sort of prize to be won? Alastor would run away again, he knew it, and his grip on his arms tightened at the thought.

When Alastor turned back to look at him Lucifer fully expected a look of disgust, loathing, or disdain. Thought he would be shoved away in a justified fit of exasperation. The last thing he expected to see was Alastor looking so pained. If Lucifer didn’t know better, he would even say his eyes looked a little misty.

They stood stock still, gripping to each other uncomfortably hard for a moment that stretched on like millenia. Long enough for Lucifer to decide that he may as well go all in if everything was going to Double Hell.

He dropped to one knee.

And pulled out the ring box.

“Alastor… I know you have secrets. I know there are things you won’t tell me, but I trust you. And maybe I’m stupid for that! Ha!” He swallowed down the manic laughter that bubbled in the back of his throat. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Alastor’s face, opting instead to watch the way the candlelight caught in each facet of the apple-shaped ruby he cradled in his hand.

“But I love you. I want to spend eternity with you... if that’s what you want. I want to give you the space to grow and thrive, and have the privilege of being by your side while you plot and scheme your way to victory because I know you! You’ll always win! You’re always three steps ahead, and I just want to cheer you on. Fuck, I’m rambling now…”

He felt Alastor loom closer, saw in his peripheral vision as he lowered himself down to his knees to join Lucifer on the ground. Red-clawed hands came to hover over his own, but did not touch the box.

“Supplicating yourself to a mere sinner is unbecoming of a king.”

A small flare of anger made Lucifer finally snap his eyes up to meet Alastor’s. “Is now really the time for snarky-”

The rest of the words lodged themselves in his throat when he saw that Alastor was crying.

Alastor never cried.

But he did go on as though the tears didn’t exist. “I can’t.”

Another two word gut punch, and Lucifer was really starting to regret making such a heavy dinner. “Why not?”

He tried not to cringe at how choked and watery that had come out.

One of Alastor’s hands glided to Lucifer’s cheek, wiping away the moisture there. “You said it yourself, love, except you got one thing wrong. There are things I can’t tell you.”

And with one, meaningful motion, Lucifer’s blood turned to ice in his veins. Alastor moved his hand and placed it on his own throat. The implication was unmistakable.

“You- your soul…”

“The majority of it belongs to-” Alastor gagged, the sentence stopping short, obviously due to the restraints of his deal. He rubbed his throat as if that would ease the binds. “You understand now, yes?”

Lucifer nodded, trying to process what he had learned from that one failed statement. So Alastor still owned a part of his soul, and he couldn’t reveal his contractor. “Ansel?”

Alastor hummed in the affirmative and rolled his eyes. “Yes, my shadow is my last shred of autonomy – a broken piece of my soul granted sentience, separate enough from myself that it didn’t count when…” He let out another choked noise. “You see?”

There was plenty Lucifer could say to that – like how dangerous ripping your soul into pieces could be. What could have possibly been worth selling it? Instead he settled on the most pertinent. “What does that mean for us? Alastor, I don’t care if you’re in a contract. We can find a way-”

“I CARE!” Alastor shouted, at last losing his composure. “How am I to give you any less than my whole self when you are always so willing to do the same?! Fallen you may be, but Lucifer… You are still so good. You give so willingly to those you love. And I-... I am selfish, and catty, and cruel, and not whole!”

Lucifer wanted to reach out with every vicious word, to wipe away each uncharacteristic proclamation of self-loathing. His beautiful, prideful, confident sinner brought low.

But no. That was an act, wasn’t it? In four years Lucifer didn’t think he had ever seen Alastor’s mask slip this far. His permanent smile was wobbly and unsure, eyes streaming tears steadily, The Radio Demon gone, leaving just a man. One backed into a corner, trapped between Lucifer and whoever owned his soul.

Slowly, Lucifer edged closer, broadcasting each movement just in case his touch was unwanted after such a show of vulnerability. He breathed a sigh of relief when instead Alastor fell into his arms. They huddled together in silence there on the forest floor while Lucifer put his thoughts in order, grasping for something to say that could fix this.

Maybe this was something he couldn’t fix. Alastor wasn’t a leaky faucet or a blown lightbulb that he could mend with a snap of angelic power. And while he thought an outright denial wouldn’t be appreciated, Lucifer didn’t think Alastor’s “wholeness” was dictated by the ownership of his soul.

Just as he opened his mouth to say as much, Alastor whispered in a soft voice, free of any distortion, “I do want to marry you.”

Alastor pulled away just enough to reach for the ring box. Pulling out the band, he turned it over in his hand, inspecting every inch. Lucifer tried and failed to squash the tiny flicker of hope building in his chest.

“It’s a beautiful ring. I can feel the magic you poured into it. The ruby is a focus for the spells?” Alastor phrased it like a question, so Lucifer nodded silently. He had sourced only the finest materials to create it, designing it to not only be eye-catching, but practical, imbued with an assortment of enchantments.

Alastor continued to fiddle with it, though he didn’t put it on. “It looks more like something you would wear, all tacky snakes and apples. Are you trying to put your mark on me, sire?”

Lucifer appreciated the way Alastor could always lighten the mood, even if it did always seem to come at his expense. “Maybe I am. I’m a greedy bastard at heart. Not nearly as ”good” as you think I am.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Alastor’s head, and in that moment he found he was content with whatever decision his love would make. He’d be right here, getting dirt on his nice clothes, and holding all 7 feet of lanky deer demon in his arms until he was no longer wanted.

“I believe you would care greatly if you knew-” Alastor paused and swallowed, clearly working his way around his contract. “More details.”

“Tell me, will you hurt Charlie?” Lucifer had to know. It was the only thing he could think of that would make him reconsider his bold decision to stay with someone with unpredictable motives. Though he supposed Alastor always had unpredictable motives, even when they were fully his own. Maybe Lucifer was just a glutton for punishment.

“No.”

The reply was immediate, and clearly didn’t cross the line of any of the contract’s rules. Good enough for him.

“Then I don’t care.”

“I can’t marry you.”

Okay, maybe not so content. Hearing that still really fucking hurt.

“Not yet, at least.”

That hurt a little less. He tried not to show his discontent when Alastor stood up out of his arms, dusting off dirt and straightening his clothes. Lucifer put a leg out and made to stand up, himself, but Alastor put a restraining hand on his shoulder, keeping him down. Goosebumps rose across his skin as he realized he was back on one knee.

He gazed up at Alastor like a man drowning, and his demon held the only life raft.

“What-”

“I cannot marry you... yet, but I have plans in motion that may free me from my” – Alastor scrunched his face as his deal tied his tongue –predicament. Let me be clear, it is not only my pride preventing this, though that is a large reason. I want to give you all of myself. Anything less would be an injustice. And furthermore, this may take quite a bit of time…” He hesitated for only a moment before adding, ”Can you wait for me?”

It wasn’t even a question in Lucifer’s mind. He was an eternal being. He had nothing but time. What was a little longer, especially when it wasn’t like Alastor would be going anywhere? They could tackle whatever plan he had up his sleeve together.

“Yes. As long as it takes”

And oh, would that he could burn that look of adoration into his retinas and keep it with him when the going got tough.

“Then ask again. Properly this time.”

Alastor handed him back the ring, and Lucifer took it in his fingers delicately, as though he hadn’t made it indestructible.

He presented it proudly, letting everything else fall away but this one question.

“Alastor Rousseau, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

Chapter Text

Charlie sat at her desk in her office at the Hazbin Hotel trying not to think about how much time it would take her to get through the stacks upon stacks of documents and petitions piled on its surface. She had a new appreciation for her dad after the past few years as the acting ruler of Hell. Who would have thought it would involve so much paperwork? Sure she had been warned before her father left on his mission, but nothing could have truly prepared her for the pure tedium of it.

No wonder he had a few unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Fortunately, Vaggie had been a godsend – no pun intended. Not only had she taken on a large portion of Charlie’s duties, but she was always there to cheer her on with some of the more radical changes she had made to Hell’s infrastructure.

The first thing to go had been the courtroom aesthetic. From the moment of her first hearing it hadn’t sat well with her just how far away she had to sit from the defendants. It was far too much like the courtroom in heaven, with the Sins and herself looming over everyone else in the room. She had to strain just to hear the kind Goetia’s pleas to be reunited with his daughter. In the end she had clambered rather ungracefully down from her perch high above the rest of the Sins. Vaggie helped her cross the pool of boiling lava (why in the seven rings was there lava in a courtroom???) to talk to the man face to face.

It had caused an uproar among the higher demons when she had the place completely renovated, choosing to make the space more inviting, and putting everyone on the same level. Those too old and set in their ways had begun to denounce her. She would just have to show them that this was a better way – to lead by example.

That was all fine and well, except…

Not everything had been sunshine and rainbows when her mom had returned to Hell. She would know, expert in that area as she was. She had fantasized about that moment for years, and imagined a tearful reunion. Though to be fair, there were tears – they just all belonged to Charlie. It was selfish to want more from Lilith, but that didn't curb her longing.

Since her dad had stepped back into the picture, he had been a guiding hand. A tad overzealous at times, sure. And perhaps he had wanted to shelter her from the worst of what Hell had to offer – choosing to take care of the more morally grey responsibilities by himself, but he had taught her so much.

Lilith on the other hand…

Absent wasn’t quite the word Charlie would use. For much of the first part of her life Lucifer had been absent. No. Her mom was detached. Always there. Always watching, judging, calculating, but staying out of the way. That is, of course, until Charlie made a decision she disapproved of.

Which was turning out to be more often than she’d like.

”Figure it out, Charlotte,” mom had said, over and over like a broken record. She was doing her best! Hadn’t she been figuring it out her whole life? Despite being the Princess, nearly nothing had been handed to her. She had clawed and scratched her way to success, and look where she was now!

The document in front of her began to blur as tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath through her nose, holding it in before releasing it through her mouth.

Calm, Charlie. Crying isn’t solving anything, and it’s certainly not finishing this paperwork.

Like she had a sixth sense for her partner’s distress, Vaggie entered the room with a soft rap on the door. “Hey, hon. I finished contacting Paimon about- Whoa, hey. Why the tears?”

Charlie scrubbed at her eyes, stealing herself – trying so hard to put on the mask of the queen her mother wanted her to be. “It’s nothing, really.”

Vaggie looked at her doubtfully, crossing the room to stand at her side, and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know you cry at a lot of things, but rarely at nothing. Talk to me.”

Charlie turned in her chair to face her girlfriend, covering Vaggie’s hand with her own. “It just seems that no matter what I do it’s never good enough for mom. She hated what I did with the courtroom, she can’t stand that I won’t move into the palace, she even argued with me for an hour on why I shouldn’t be delegating some of my duties to you and the higher demons. But she won’t help me!”

She threw herself back, staring up at the ceiling in dismay. “She more than anyone knows what it’s like to be Queen of Hell, but she refuses to tell me what to do – like this is all some big test, but there is no lesson, and I’m failing at every turn!”

“Maybe she just wants you to be independent,” Vaggie stated hesitantly, trying to play the devil’s advocate without pushing too hard.

“I am independent! I’ve been handling everything Heaven and Hell have to offer by myself for years,” Charlie whined, sounding more like herself for the first time in a while. Vaggie was happy to be her outlet when more than ever she had to make a show of strength in public. “She just doesn’t like the way I do things. She asked me for what felt like the thousandth time to shut down the hotel and ‘focus on my royal duties.’”

She raised her hands in air quotes, and Vaggie stayed quiet, letting her partner vent. “But I know the hotel has to work! Even with their memories wiped, I really feel like we’re making a difference to the souls in our care. I mean, sure, it’s too soon to really see the difference with all but the earliest souls being too young to be sorted into Hell, but I can just feel it, Vaggie! Why can’t she see that?”

Tucking a stray lock of golden hair back into place, Vaggie looked down at Charlie with a reassuring eye. “You’ll just have to prove it to her. Lilith seems like the kind of woman who has to see to believe. When more souls start ascending to Heaven she won’t be able to deny the fact that your methods work.”

Charlie gasped loudly, popping up with the force of the realization she just had, and nearly knocking Vaggie over. “What if Alastor makes it to Heaven???”

Vaggie scoffed with a roll of her eye, waving a dismissive hand. “I don’t care how effective your methods are, Alastor is too fucked up to make it into Heaven. Besides, isn't the whole reason your dad is down there to bring him back?”

“Well… Not exactly.” Charlie winced. “It was more a peace offering after what happened in the second extermination after the restructure. Sera felt really bad about what happened to dad.”

Vaggie’s eyebrows knit together, frown tensing on her face. “I know you like to see the best in people, and I love that about you, but Sera isn’t exactly a bleeding heart, babe. If she wanted Lucifer on earth, it was for a reason.”

“What? Nooo, relations with Heaven have been so much better since the restructure! Besides, what benefit could she even get from sending dad to the human realm?” Charlie tried to stay cheerful, wanted to believe her own words, but something in her heart told her that Vaggie was right. “But, maybe, just in case, I’ll try to look into it.”

Vaggie gave her a small, soft smile. “Maybe your mom knows something. Where is she anyway?”

“I don’t know. Off somewhere again. I’m sure she’s busy with something important,” Charlie said with a shrug, trying to push away an uncharacteristic spike of bitterness. She rolled her shoulders, sitting back down. “Want to help me finish up this pile? Theeeen, maybe I can treat you for being so good to me today.”

A light, golden blush rose on her girlfriend’s cheekbones, and smirking she scooped up a handful of documents. “Anything for you, babe.”

*********

“Letting him live his life normally isn’t enough. I believed Lucifer’s influence would corrupt him, but thus far he has only committed minor sins,” Sera steamed, glaring out the windows across the skyline of Winnersville. “His father was supposed to act as the catalyst, but he was removed from the tapestry of Alastor’s makeup too soon. We need to take action.”

Lilith rolled her eyes, sighing. “It’s only a matter of time before he commits a sin of great enough consequence to send him back down to Hell. I know The Radio Demon. He’s as cunning and manipulative as they come. You worry for nothing.”

That made Sera simmer. She still didn’t trust Lilith. Not now, not ever. Conspiring with the Queen was merely a means to an end – that end being a return to the status quo. Ever since that serpentine sinner had appeared directly into her office all those years ago she knew she had to act quickly to protect the heavenly realm.

“Or is it that you gain some benefit from having sinners flood through the gates unchecked?” She whipped around to face her so-called ally. Lilith merely stared impassively. “You haven’t been stopping your daughter from rallying the souls in Hell. The only reason I let you keep her in charge is because she is so willing to listen to reason.”

“I hardly count forcing them into children’s games and a little amateur therapy as ‘rallying’,” Lilith mocked, bringing her hands up in air quotes.

“Pentious is proof of her methods. It won’t take long before more make their way up here. I can only hope that our plan to manipulate the sinner’s souls will mitigate the damage, but we absolutely cannot allow Lucifer’s consort to ascend.”

Lilith kept her face neutral, only a twitch of her eyebrow giving away her irritation. “I’ll find a way to speed things along then.”

“You better,” Sera warned, opening a portal back to Hell with a wave of her hand.

*************

Alastor absently swirled the liquid inside his red Solo cup.

He had woken up the morning after his unexpected reunion with Lu to a pounding headache, wash of shame, and a glass of water by his bedside, accompanied by two ibuprofen and a note that read

Good luck on finals!
-Your bad influence

That had been three weeks ago, and there had been no word since. Not that they had actually exchanged numbers. Alastor was still kicking himself for that.

He shouldn’t care this much. He sipped his drink, grimacing at the bitter tang of alcohol. No one threw a party quite like Julie, and her signature hunch punch (containing a whole bottle of Everclear and god knows what else) was probably the reason why.

Even now, weeks later, he replayed that night over and over in his head. He had made a complete fool of himself, prattling on about his childhood escapades and spilling shameful word vomit.

I don’t understand, but I trust you more than anyone.

Alastor shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the hazy memory. What was it about that short, little doll of a man that made him so irrationally sentimental? They had only met twice in 14 years, and both times he felt… connected. An instant attachment that no one had ever been able to stir in him before.

Stupid. What a stupid emotion. For all he knew Lu was a horrible person, the devil himself.

But did horrible people give you a piggyback ride home? Tuck you into bed and leave water and painkillers at your bedside?

“Maybe,” he thought bitterly, sighing into his cup.

“ALLIE!”

Julie came up behind him wrapping her arms around his middle. He tensed at the unexpected contact.

“Good evening, Julie,” he replied, unamused, dislodging himself from her embrace. She was clearly three sheets to the wind already, and the party had barely begun.

“Where is your cute little boy toy? You haven’t brought him around since the last gig!”

Her eyes were shining with liquor and unbridled curiosity. Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling equal parts vexed and indulgent. Julie was another anomaly in his life. By all means she should grate on his nerves. She did grate on his nerves, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to push her away because of it. There was just something about the way she adored him despite his many thorns that kept him coming back.

Besides, this was a pretty good party.

“You read into that far too much. He’s not anything to me. Barely even a friend. We’ve met twice for Godssake.”

“Hey, I won’t judge! I just didn’t pin you for the type to have a one night stand,” she said, making him cringe. He caught her as she swayed just a little too far.

“Really, Julie. He was just an old acquaintance that I happened to run into on my way to the gig. I’m not nearly as promiscuous as you.”

“I’m just sayin’, that’s not what I saw with you makin’ goo goo eyes at each other all night long.”

Alastor spluttered, “I was doing no such thing!”

He was tempted to let her fall over the next time she rocked precariously on her heels. Julie shrugged, at last dropping the issue that had been plaguing him for far too long.

“Well, if not him, I do have a friend I could set you up with! They’ve been nagging me all night to introduce you.”

Absolutely not! was Alastor’s kneejerk reaction. He had never had any romantic or sexual interest in anyone. Not even if they had fluffy blonde hair that looked so soft to the touch, and golden eyes that seemed to pierce down to his very soul.

No, no, no. He couldn’t keep thinking about Lu. For all he knew the man was back in Florida or wherever he happened to be in between saving Alastor’s neck. Perhaps they’d never see each other again. Twice was already enough of a coincidence, and really why should he even care? He didn’t care.

So maybe meeting someone else wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe it would get his mind off this ridiculous longing fixation he had, so instead he responded, ”I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… too much.”

Julie looked at him like he had grown an extra head. “Wait… really?”

Alastor crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, “Ask me again and I’ll change my mind.”

“Hey, don’t blame me for wondering! I just didn’t expect you to say yes.” She snatched him by the hand, and dragged him through the throng of people all in various stages of intoxication. “They’re going to be thrilled!”

Julie led him to a dark corner of her livingroom. The music pulsed in his ears and settled his nerves. This didn’t have to mean anything. It would just be the distraction he craved, and yet his stomach twisted unpleasantly – queasy in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol coursing through his veins.

He almost startled when he saw the person lounging against the armrest, head bouncing with the beat. They were short and blonde with pale, delicate features. It took Alastor a moment to realize that this wasn’t, in fact, the man who had been haunting his every waking moment lately. They met his gaze, and their eyes were a brilliant blue. Alastor breathed a sigh of relief.

Get a hold of yourself, Abernathy.

Julie thrummed with delight, obviously taking her duty as wingman seriously – as seriously as Julie ever treated anything. “Here he is! Alastor this is… Oh, my. What’s your name again?”

Alastor glared down at her. When she had said she had a ‘friend’ she wanted to introduce to him, he had apparently taken that much too literally. Typical.

“Ashe. A pleasure to meet you, Alastor.”

Ashe offered him their hand palm down as if they expected him to press a kiss to their knuckles. He stared at it, freezing like a deer in headlights, torn between doing what they wanted or running out the door.

Who offers their hand like that in this day and age???

After an uncomfortable moment of silence they retracted the offer, running their fingers through their hair and giggling in an attempt to save face.

Julie cut through the awkward tension, recovering the conversation like a fumbled football while everyone else just blinked at it. “HAHA! Alastor! Why don’t you tell Ashe here about that amazing offer you got from that big artist?”

She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “They scooped him up right out of school, isn’t that amazing? Some people work years before getting a job in the industry, but not our prodigy here!”

Good, he could work with that. If there was one topic he could talk ceaselessly about, it was music. “Yes, I’m quite lucky for such an opportunity. Though, truly Julie exaggerates, I’m no prodigy. I’ve worked very hard to be as good as I am.”

“Then it seems luck had nothing to do with it,” Ashe purred, taking a step closer. Alastor could feel the heat radiating off their skin, hot enough he wondered if they had a fever. “I love a driven man.”

Alastor swallowed, unaccustomed to anyone being this forward with him. He tugged at his high collar, starting to feel a little claustrophobic. “Well, I may not take it. My mother needs me, and a gig like that would take me all over the world.”

“A mama’s boy. How cute.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it!” Julie exclaimed, casting Alastor a conspiratorial wink. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Alastor shoved down his panic, and plastered on his best smile. This was fine. Just a conversation with a stranger, something he did all the time. “So, ahem, what is it that you do?”

Ashe took him by the hand, and he tried not to snatch it away. “You look tense. I promise I don’t bite…” They ran their tongue over their teeth. Alastor noticed how sharp their canines were. Everything about Ashe seemed to scream danger and seduction. “That is, unless you want me to.”

Alastor took a long sip of his drink, trying to dull his nerves. When the cup was empty he put it in a pile of its half-full brethrens. He was fine. This is something everyone did. Why is it he always had to be so goddamn different? He needed to focus on something he was good at. “Right. Would you… like to dance?”

He could have sworn he saw Ashe’s eyes flash red. “I would love to. Let’s see if you can keep up with me, handsome.”

They pulled him across the floor to the mass of bodies undulating in time to the beat. The music wasn’t exactly to Alastor’s taste, but he was no stranger to the night scene. Taking a deep breath he tried to embrace the moment, letting the music guide his actions.

Ashe twisted around him, and with the excuse of dancing he felt himself relax – the contact becoming bearable. Like this he could admire that they were aesthetically pleasing. There was no denying that. Perhaps Julie thought he had a type, and to be fair, if he did (and he most assuredly did not) this was probably it.

At closer inspection they really didn’t look much like Lu. The eyes were all wrong. Not an open and expressive window into their soul the way his were. They seemed permanently half-lidded and sultry. In Alastor's hands they felt curvier, a lovely combination of masculine and feminine features, but the way they held themselves almost felt put on, like an act – a show put on for Alastor’s benefit.

Ashe met his eyes, catching him staring, and their expression heated with an emotion he dare not name. Alastor’s throat went dry. That was fine. He just needed to get to know them better.

He leaned down close enough to continue talking, letting himself wrap his arms around their dainty shoulders. “So why did you want to meet me? Have you seen one of my shows?”

They gave him a playful smile before grazing their hands up his sides, and fisting the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. Alastor clenched his jaw.

Just relax. This is fine. Normal even.

Ashe’s lips grazed against his ear as they spoke. “You could call me a fan of your work. Think you could make me sing the same way you do your instruments?”

A cold chill ran up Alastor’s spine. This was too much. Too fast. Did everyone feel like this while flirting? Like ants were crawling through their veins and a vice was closing around their throat? Surely not. Maybe he just needed to rip the bandaid off, get this nonsense past him, then he would see that everything was fine!

Ashe pulled back, just enough for Alastor to surge forward, smashing their lips together in an ungraceful clash of spit and teeth. They leaned into him eagerly, moaning into the space between them.

Alastor’s stomach rolled. His brain felt like it was on fire. His skin prickled. He wanted to stop.

Just bear it. It has to get better. Everyone makes out at parties. It’s fine, it’s fine, IT’S FINE!

“Hey! Uh- Mind if I step in?”

A familiar voice cut through the panicked craze. Alastor reeled back, all too happy to remove himself from Ashe’s embrace.

Oh… Fuck.

**************

Lucifer didn’t quite know what to think when he pushed his way through the crowd of raucous party goers to find Alastor kissing someone who looked suspiciously like himself. What he did know was that something wasn’t right.

The alarm clanged in his head over the din of the music, and it didn’t take a magical ward to tell that he was clearly uncomfortable. His shoulders were tensed, his back bent at an awkward angle like he was simultaneously trying to pull closer and get away. That didn’t stop Lucifer’s throat from closing up, choking with grief.

He should have expected this sooner or later. He had no right to get in between Alastor and potential happiness.

I still don’t want to see it.

He shook his head, dismissing the selfish thought. He may have no claim to Alastor’s heart anymore, but obviously this wasn’t something he was into, if Alastor’s blatant distress and the alarm bells ringing in his head were anything to go by. It was time to stop this farce.

“Hey! Uh- Mind if I step in?”

He hated how unsure he sounded. He supposed if his interruption was unwanted then they could just… get back to it later. The thought turned his blood to ice, his forehead tingling as he suppressed his horns.

Alastor wrenched himself away from the person he had been draped over as if flung by force. He stared, almost manic, his pupils blown wide. He froze in place, glancing between him and his ‘dance partner’. Lucifer got his first good look at them. It was really uncanny how similar they were – similar height, similar build, even their hair was coiffed into a similar version of his ducktail. This was… weird to say the least.

Wait a fucking second.

Lucifer reached out with his angelic senses, opening a few of his eyes to Look over this odd doppelganger.

They weren’t human.

They were a succubus.

Rage flared like an inferno in his chest, but he packed it down deep, holding it close, boxing it carefully away until he could get this trifling copycat alone. For now, it looked like he had a show to put on.

“Alastor! You’re here! I was hoping to run into you!” Lucifer held his hands out wide as if beholding his good luck for stumbling upon him, a too wide smile splitting his face. “Hey, man, I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just saw you from across the room. Even leaning over you’re freakishly tall haha!”

The lukewarm insult seemed to break Alastor out of his daze. “Oh. Yes. I suppose I do stand out, don’t I?”

The lack of a quip or playful jab spoke to his level of distress.

“How about we step out the back? I saw the bonfire. I also want to know how your finals went!” Lucifer exclaimed, pasting over the cracks in this interaction with a generous dollop of false cheer – a Morningstar specialty.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He addressed the succubus, expression hardening, and grazing over their psyche with invisible claws of demonic power.

He saw the moment they realized exactly how bad they had fucked up. Blood drained from their pale face, and he could smell the unadulterated fear that permeated the air.

“N-n-not at all,” they spluttered pathetically, scrambling to put more distance between themselves and Alastor, glancing around for any escape.

Good.

“Thanks, friend.” He infused the last word with every ounce of venom he could muster. “See you around, yeah?”

Alastor seemed to be watching the proceedings with a look that fell somewhere between guilt and bewilderment. Lucifer led him away, hand outstretched to herd him out the back door without actually touching. He was relieved to see only a few, quiet stragglers enjoying the warm night breeze.

The bonfire crackled high into the air, lighting the small, wooded backyard in flickering orange light. It danced across Alastor’s sharp features, making his cheeks look gaunt and his eyes dark, but the heat searing against his skin seemed to wake him from the fog that had settled in the corners of his mind. The bells tolling in Lucifer’s head settled to a dull drone.

They stood there in silence, staring into the flames as if they could burn away the last few minutes from their memories – an unspoken agreement to let themselves decompress.

Alastor spoke first. “Where have you been?”

Not an accusation. Just a question. A reasonable one, considering that by all appearances Lucifer had been in town for weeks doing something. For all they had talked at their last meeting, he hadn’t had to make up any sort of career for himself. The conversation had just flowed.

As it always did with Alastor.

“Around,” Lucifer responded cryptically. “I figured you had your hands full with graduation.”

“I did,” Alastor agreed solemnly. “But that’s not what you wanted to talk about, is it?”

So like him to cut straight to the chase. Lucifer’s hands clenched into fists. He was again struck with an ugly possessive urge.

Not my place, not my place–

“You didn’t really look like you were enjoying yourself back there…” He paused, and when Alastor didn’t elaborate he continued, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

He heard the man beside him let out a shaky breath as he tilted his head up to the sky to gaze at the stars twinkling in the deep blue abyss beyond the tiny world at their feet. Posed like this Lucifer could see the edge of his birthmark, a long slash just a few shades darker than his caramel skin, peeking out from the edge of his collar.

“Why is it that every time you’re around I feel this irrational desire to spill my guts?”

Lucifer hummed in thought. He had a few theories. It was apparent to him by now that Alastor’s soul held at least the echoes of who he used to be, the shadows of how he once felt. Not that he could say that, so instead he replied, “If it makes you feel better, you’ve always had that effect on me, too.”

An easy truth. From the moment he beheld that cocky smile Alastor had cut through to the quick of his soul – flaying the flesh of the persona he had built over millenia to lay bare the soft middle beneath.

It hadn’t always been welcome, but it had always been true.

Alastor scoffed, cutting his eyes back to Lucifer. “I find that hard to believe. I hardly know anything about you. I am at a disadvantage.”

An amused huff broke through Lucifer’s melancholy demeanor. He took a step closer to the bonfire. Perhaps a touch too close for human comfort, but he needed to feel the intensity of the flames lick across his skin. At what point did he start missing the heat of Hell?

“You hate feeling like you’re on the back foot.”

“That’s another thing you seem to know about me.”

They settled back into quiet contemplation for a long moment before Alastor said, “I felt like I needed to have the experience.”

It took a second for Lucifer to get himself back on the same train of thought. “Wait. With that rando?”

Alastor grimaced. “I believe I’m the only person I know who hasn’t made out with a stranger at a party. It’s supposed to be a natural inclination, is it not?”

“Not for everyone! Alastor, you know you don’t have to force yourself into situations like that out of what? Peer pressure? You’re better than that!” He was suddenly reminded just how young this version of Alastor still was. An adult, to be sure, but without the necessary life experience to avoid unsound decisions.

Alastor met his incredulity with an affronted glare, crossing his arms in front of himself defensively. “How would you know what I’m too good for? You don’t know me! Every time you waltz into my life you treat me like you’re my closest friend, but we’ve spent what? Half a day together over the course of our whole lives? Don’t preach to me like you know what I’ve been through.”

Lucifer felt his temper rise, bubbling beneath his skin. Alastor didn’t know. He couldn’t know all that Lucifer had done for him – the tightrope walk of the last 21 years between staying away and keeping close. He packed the feeling down with the rest of them tonight. The lockbox in his head was starting to feel decidedly full.

“I’m sorry, you’re right…” Alastor tilted his head, apparently having expected more of a fight.

Fuck this was hard. How the hell did you start from scratch with someone you already knew? But he didn’t know!? Not really. Lucifer fidgeted in place, running a hand through his hair. “That came off… not how I wanted it to. I suppose I just assumed you weren’t interested in…that.”

Alastor’s nostrils flared, face screwing up in frustration, obviously not enjoying being read so easily once again. It wasn’t his fault that Lucifer had already memorized the user’s manual. “That’s true. I’m not. I just thought…”

He trailed off, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I thought that maybe if I tried then I could understand what all the fuss is about. If anything I feel more confused.

“Mama always tells me that one day I’ll find someone that will make me feel all those things you see in the movies, and everyone around me appears to take no issue throwing their emotions and bodies around just to see what sticks. How do I really know that it’s not for me unless I give it a shot?”

Lucifer sighed, gazing up at the sky like his Father would give him any assistance. Now there was a long shot. He plopped on the ground in front of the fire, patting the spot beside him in invitation. Alastor only hesitated a moment before joining, bringing his knees up to his chest.

“I’m not going to try to tell you who you are or how you should discover yourself, but I will say that you’re not exactly setting yourself up for success by forcing yourself into a situation you don’t enjoy with someone you don’t trust.” Lucifer straightened, jabbing a finger at Alastor’s chest. “And do not trust that off-brand, dollar store, sorry excuse of a clone of me!”

That earned him a burst of laughter, musical and delightful as it settled over his frazzled nerves. “You can blame Julie for that bizarre coincidence.”

“She’s not the one to blame here,” Lucifer grumbled under his breath, then added a little louder, “I’m serious, though. Go do whatever you want, but at least make sure you’re not doing it with people who are only out to use you.”

Alastor took Lucifer’s hand, pulling it away from his chest. His skin was even warmer than the heat of the flames, and the touch lingered just a moment longer than was necessary. His gaze dropped to the appendage, studying it as if it had moved of its own accord, flexing the fingers before cradling them in his lap. “You may be right about that. There are precious few whose touch I can tolerate. Perhaps I should rethink my methods.”

Their eyes locked, and the crackling fire, the murmured conversations from those around them, the feel of the warm air all fell away. Lucifer suddenly realized how close they were. Close enough to smell whatever fruity alcohol Alastor had been drinking on his breath.

Oh… Oh shit. Does he want to kiss me right now? That’s an ‘I’m going to kiss you’ face if I’ve ever seen it. What should I do? Is this okay?

Lucifer’s thoughts ran away with him, drowning himself in the ‘what ifs’. What if Alastor found out who he was and hated him for telling him, or hated him for not telling him sooner? What if that made him regret kissing him? Shouldn’t he be honest now that Alastor was old enough to understand? That’s what he and Ansel agreed, but how did he even bring it up? What if he was misreading this whole situation, and that wasn’t even a kissing face in the first place?

Lucifer’s expression must have betrayed his inner turmoil because the moment ended as Alastor pulled back, looking a little sheepish. “Ah, sorry. I guess the hunch punch was stronger than I anticipated. I shouldn’t trouble you with my problems.”

“Not at all!” Lucifer exclaimed. Alastor stood, offering a hand up. He took it, brushing the dirt off his pants. “I like listening to your problems.”

Alastor rolled his eyes with an amused huff. “You’re an odd one.”

He dug in his pocket, pulling out a cellphone, and for one baffling second Lucifer wondered if instead of Earth, Heaven had sent him through a portal to the Twilight Zone. Had Alastor ever had a cellphone before? Of course he did. This was the 21st century. Everyone had a cellphone, and Alastor no longer had the excuse of being old and set in ways from a time before they existed.

He handed it over. Lucifer stared mystified at the glowing screen like it contained some sort of ancient code instead of blank contact details. Well… Almost blank. In the name portion was written ‘Pidge’.

“What is this?”

Alastor gave him that shit eating grin that always made Lucifer want to make poor decisions. “You have gotten away twice without giving me any way to contact you. This time I am neither too young nor too drunk to ask, so go ahead.”

Lucifer tilted his head. “Pidge?”

“Ah, it seems your memory is failing you, my little carrier pigeon. You are the one who insisted on giving me a piggy back ride home last time, aren’t you?” Alastor bent at the waist to meet Lucifer’s incensed glare. “Also, you’re strong for your size, and your feathers are so easily ruffled.”

“Why on Earth do I put up with you?” Lucifer asked, taking a step back. Being so close to Alastor’s face all night was doing nothing for his steadily declining sanity… and with the information he just learned from his clone, he was going to need all his brain cells on deck for the foreseeable future.

“Haha! Because I’m a delight!” Alastor exclaimed, waiting expectantly.

Lucifer stared down at the screen again. This was an opportunity. A permanent line of contact to Alastor that didn’t involve him being in some sort of peril first. Was this… right?

In the shadows between his fingers Ansel’s silhouetted eyes peered at him, tiny but no less demanding for it. They almost seemed to glow from within in a way they hadn’t since being separated from Alastor’s demonic form. Or maybe that was just the light of the fire.

Lucifer typed in his number.

“Look at that. Your mystique is still intact. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Alastor plucked his phone out of Lucifer’s hand like he was afraid he would change his mind and delete his number.

Lucifer gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You know that’s not my intention.”

Alastor leveled him with a flat glare. “No, I don’t know. And that’s the problem. You know far too much about me without any equal exchange. I want answers, Pidge, and I’m going to get them.”

Lucifer’s phone rang in his pocket, and the cheerful sound of Entry of the Gladiators filled the air.

“Ah, good. You didn’t give me a fake. Ha! The circus music rather suits you,” Alastor snickered. “That’s my number. Feel free to call whenever it pleases you.”

It felt like Alastor had just handed him a prize beyond measure. Unlimited access to him whenever it pleased him? Every day? Every hour? After so many years of dragging himself through a social desert this felt like sipping the waters of the sweetest oasis.

After this long he almost felt like he deserved it.

Alastor must have noticed he was staring to stare off into space because he waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Lulu!”

“Ugh! No!” Lucifer sneered, reeling back. Absolutely not that name. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit decline. “Call me whatever kind of bird you want, but not Lulu.”

Like a shark smelling blood in the water Alastor snapped at the opportunity to learn any crumb of information. “Oh, and why not?”

“If you must know, “Lucifer grimaced, not particularly wanting to go into the details, “That’s what my ex-wife called me.”

That made Alastor pause. “An ex-wife and a late fiancee? How much have you managed to pack into the last few years?”

He said it kindly, hesitantly, like he didn’t want to push too hard too fast despite his obvious desire to know more about him.

Lucifer looked down at his feet not knowing where to even begin with that line of questioning. Ansel had creeped into his own shadow, giving him a look he knew all too well. One that said ‘it’s time you told him.’

He stomped on him, an action he would definitely have to pay for later, and snapped his head back up to see Alastor studying him like one would a particularly unstable mental patient. Lucifer laughed nervously. “How about this? Every time we run into each other I’ll let you ask one question that I will have to answer with complete honesty.”

Alastor frowned, an expression that looked so foreign on his face. “Only one? That’s an awfully slow way to get to know someone. Besides, I may be taking a job that will take me all over the world. What if I never see you again?”

Well, that was certainly news. “Wait, really? That’s so exciting! Tell me all about it!”

It looked like he would finally get to see a little more of the world now. Heaven had restricted his access in the human realm – he had to be within so many miles of Alastor or risk voiding the agreement that let him stay here for so long. He really didn’t want any more visits from that annoying, little deer cherub. Georgia was nice, but there was just so much world to see, and-

“Lu, you’re not changing the topic.”

Oh. Was that genuine worry settled so openly on Alastor’s face? Did he really care that much? It tugged violently at his heartstrings, so Lucifer mustered every ounce of devilish charm. “Don’t you believe in fate, Al? We’ve already bumped into each other three times against all odds.”

Lucifer certainly wasn’t going to reveal that it had been more than double that if you counted every time he had shown up as Coconut the Cat. That tidbit of information he would take to his grave whenever God decided he was done with this universe in the next few trillion years.

Alastor didn’t seem impressed. “I’m not in the habit of leaving things to chance. I’ll take your offer, but we have to keep in touch, and meet up whenever the opportunity arises.

“Also,” he added, a grin spreading across his face. “You have to make up for the past two encounters.”

“Always the opportunist, aren’t you? Very well. You get an additional two questions.”

He really should have expected it when Alastor stuck his hand out for him to shake on it. An instinctual part of Lucifer recoiled at making this into an official deal, but then again, it wouldn’t be the first deal he had made with Alastor. Besides, this would take the pressure off setting a hard date to sit him down to dump Alastor's own tragic backstory. It was oddly comforting to know that it may come up organically.

“It’s a deal then.” Lucifer took Alastor’s hand, a small shimmer of golden magic settling around them that could be chalked up to the flickering light of the bonfire. He felt the delicate chains settle themselves around his neck – nothing he couldn’t break with a little effort. No one besides his Father and perhaps the other Archangels truly had the power to bind him, but it was the principle of the thing. “Well, go on. Ask away.”

Alastor’s question seemed so simple on the surface – something so benign, and yet it had the potential to blow everything up here and now depending on how far he looked into it.

“What’s your full name? Is Lu short for something, or do you live by pop idol rules like Prince or Madonna?”

Lucifer tightened his grip on Alastor’s hand, but kept his smile easy. “That’s two questions, but in the spirit of fairness I’ll count it as one.”

Alastor rolled his eyes, extracting his hand from Lucifer’s grip. “I should hope so. Well?”

“Lucifer…” he said softly, but the chains tightened ever so slightly, demanding the completion of the terms. “Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Lucifer,” Alastor whispered, like he was tasting the name on his breath. It pulled at the angel’s soul like a siren song. “A pleasure to get to know you, Lucifer.”

*******

One Hour Earlier

Lucifer’s clone was waiting outside the door to Julie’s house, loitering against the wall like he was just one of the party-goers getting some air.

Really, he was lying in wait.

The door burst open and an all too familiar mop of blonde hair rushed past him. The succubus didn’t make it very far before Lucifer wrapped an arm around their shoulders stopping their retreat.

“TWIN! There you are!” The Devil’s smile was sharp, his eyes glowed with the threat of damnation. He lowered his voice an octave. “We have a lot to talk about, you and I.”

The succubus yelped and he could feel them tremble under his touch. Was he going a little overboard letting his demonic aura crawl over theirs and suffocate them until they struggled to form coherent thoughts? Perhaps, but they had touched what was his, and he was going to figure out why.

He knew Ozzie’s creations came to earth to tempt humans to lust. That wasn’t a problem as far as he was concerned, but this insignificant pawn was cosplaying him. This was no coincidence.

“Let's take a little trip, shall we?”

In the blink of an eye they were gone, displaced somewhere dark and quiet, far away from human eyes, deep below the city. The only sounds were the plip, plip, plip of dripping water from the sewage pipes above.

The little bug started to babble. “Y-y-your majesty, I didn’t mean to, I mean, that is… I wasn’t going to-”

“Shut. Up.”

Lucifer’s human form fell away in a flash of golden light, and for the first time in many years he stood in front of someone every inch The King of Hell. His horns protruded from his head, eyes inverted in fearsome crimson and gold, and six magnificent wings ruffled behind him.

The only light came from the ball of Hellfire suspended in the gap of his broken halo. It cast long shadows against soft angles of the demon’s terrified face where they lay, prostrating themselves before him.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You tell me everything you know about who sent you, and you get to live. Then, you’re going to do me a little favor. Do that and I’ll let you keep your wings.”

The succubus didn’t dare meet his eyes or break his demand for silence. They only nodded.

“Good,” Lucifer purred. “Now, who sent you?”

“H-he didn’t show his face or tell me his name, your highness,” the succubus choked, fear roiling off of them. Lucifer flicked his forked tongue, satisfied when he tasted no deceit. “I was only told to find a man by the name of Alastor Abernathy. I was given his location, and a description of his appearance… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was the same Alastor as The King’s consort. I would have never-”

“Silence. I have no use for your excuses.” He didn’t raise his voice. He had no need. His power spoke for itself. He didn’t enjoy striking fear into the hearts of his citizens, but he wasn’t in the mood to be magnanimous. Not after watching this wretch shove their tongue down his fiancee’s-…Ah. Down his… his- down Alastor’s throat.

The list of people who knew where Alastor’s soul had gone was small. Really only a handful of Heaven’s servants, Sera and perhaps the rest of the Seraphim, but who would have access and influence over a succubus? Lucifer puzzled it over for a moment, letting said succubus sit in uncertainty.

“How did you know to dress like this?” Lucifer pulled at the demon’s hair, and confirmed to himself that it was a wig when it came right off to reveal vibrant pink hair beneath. It suited them much better.

They flinched at the touch, only relaxing slightly when it was apparent he wasn’t going to hurt them. Not yet, at least. “I was given instructions. I think the guy who talked to me was a middle man. He only told me what I needed to know.”

“That’s not very helpful.” Lucifer’s fire flared between them, and the demon looked up into his eyes. In their true form their sclera were heterochromatic – one a bright magenta, the other a deep black. Something prickled at the back of Lucifer’s mind. “You’re not one of Ozzie’s.”

Not a question, and the succubus cringed, shrinking back into themselves. “No, Your Majesty. I work for The Vees. Valentino, specifically.”

“Then how did you get an Asmodean crystal?” The king nudged the demon’s hand with the tip of his boot where a shining ring sat, its facets glimmering despite the low light. “You’re breaking Demon Law, but I’m sure you know that.”

They let out a choked sob. “Yes, Your Majesty. I was told I had permission. Not to worry about it. Please…”

Lucifer bent at the waist, and tipped the succubus’ head with a claw. Their face gleamed with tears. It was time for the carrot part of this carrot-and-stick routine. “You’ve done very well. Thank you for telling me what I needed to know.”

He snapped his fingers and a paper and pen flashed into existence. He wrote as he spoke. “To make up for your crimes you’re going to become my messenger. Go to The Hazbin Hotel and give my daughter this. Don’t read it or give it to anyone else. Stick close to the hotel if she needs you, and use that ring to return with her reply.”

With another flash of sorcery the letter was folded into an envelope and sealed. He handed it over to the succubus who took it in shaking hands. “If you disobey I will know.”

They nodded, pocketing the letter, and looking relieved that it seemed they would be getting out of this alive.

“What is your name, demon?”

They swallowed. “Ashe, Your Majesty.”

“Welcome to the royal payroll, Ashe.”

And with a shake of their hand Lucifer made his second deal of the night.

Chapter Text

Lucifer stared at the screen of his phone, thumbs poised over the keyboard twitching with indecision. Alastor said he could text whenever he felt like it.

He definitely felt like it.

He had felt like it for years, but seeing Alastor as a child had been odd. It had almost felt like visiting a sick relative – a grandparent with dementia or someone delirious with fever. It was still Alastor, but not in his right mind.

Now, he was cured. Or, well… healing, and he wasn’t quite the same. This Alastor wasn’t hardened by the pressures of Hell – not honed to a dangerous edge by war, death, and sin. And he had granted Lucifer the freedom of direct contact so easily.

Feel free to call whenever it pleases you.

His thumbs twitched again. What did he even say?

’Hey’ he tapped out, but no. That felt too simple. Not nearly interesting enough. He cleared the message.

’So when do you want to hang out again?’

No, no, that was too eager, and what if Alastor asked him questions he wasn’t prepared to answer? He had saved his two bonus questions because of course he had. It seemed in every life Alastor was not one to lay all the cards on the table until the moment it would benefit him most.

Lucifer had left shortly after telling Alastor his full name, making excuses that he had places to be. That had felt like precious information. How likely was it that Alastor would look deeply into it? He hadn’t said much at the time – only laughed that Lucifer’s parents must have one hell of a sense of humor.

Ba-dum-tss

He hit backspace until the text box was empty again, putting his phone down with a sigh. He hadn’t had this much trouble reaching out since reconnecting with The Sins after a particularly bad depressive episode following his divorce from Lilith. Turns out that leaving a note and a crying rubber duck on his seat in the courtroom was not ample notice for leaving Hell to rule itself for several years.

His phone dinged, and he nearly flung it off his bed in his flailing attempt to grab it.

’Alastor: Good evening, Pidge.’

Oh. Oh! Alastor had texted him first.

Lucifer had the distant thought that he was way too old to be this excited over a text message, like he was 13 billion going on 14, but fuck it. If anyone needed a little more joy in their life it was him.

Unfortunately, it put him back in the same ship from which he had just jumped.

He wrote a few different responses ranging from snarky to sincere, abandoning them all midway. Why was this so much harder than talking face to face?

’Heeeyyyy, bitch!’

Backspace, backspace, backspace. He really should stop trying that one. He just couldn’t pull it off the way the queens on Valentino’s Drag Rally did.

His train of thought was interrupted by another ding from his phone.

’Alastor: Are you composing a novel, or just exploring the myriad of ways to say hello?’

“Oh, stars above,” Lucifer groaned, his head tilting up to the heavens in embarrassment. Of course Alastor could see the three little dots dancing at the bottom of the screen. He had to get over himself and say something.

‘Pidge: Howdy!’

Lucifer pressed send before he could overthink it, though now that he was looking at it… Who said “howdy” anymore? They were in the Southern United States, surely that wasn’t too outrageous, right?

‘Alastor: Your air of mystery is dying a slow and agonizing death. Rest in peace.’

Nope. Definitely should have thought it over a little more.

‘Pidge: If I’m so lacking in mystery, I guess you won’t need those last two questions then right? ;)’

There. He didn’t have to be so painfully awkward all the time. He was pretty sure that was even an appropriate use of a winky face.

’Alastor: Ha! Not a chance. In fact, I think I would like to take advantage of them. Would you like to get coffee? If you’re still in town, that is.’

Lucifer felt the gentle tug of chains as the deal they had made urged him on. Ansel curled around his arm and gazed at him expectantly. If the deal wasn’t goading him to accept then the shadow certainly would.

’Pidge: Time and place?’

********

They stood in line at a small cafe – a little hole in the wall that Alastor had sworn by. The inside was quaint, warm, and inviting with couches, plush chairs, and a piano tucked into the back. The exposed brick walls were covered in art from local artists, adding a sense of culture and individuality no matter where Lucifer’s eyes landed. He silently promised to swear off Starbucks if the coffee was as good as the atmosphere.

He took deep breaths, not meeting Alastor’s eyes. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this felt like a first date. It was most assuredly not a first date! It was just two… acquaintances(?) meeting up for a contractually obligated question or three.

He was trying to figure out what to do with his hands when they reached the counter.

The barista greeted Alastor with a cheerful smile. “Hey, Al! Getting your usual today?”

“You know me too well, my dear.”

The casual familiarity made Lucifer feel even more outside of it all, like he didn’t belong here. Oh course Alastor would have a whole life with friends and “usuals”. Did Lucifer even fit in this picture anymore?

I need to stop thinking of it like that. I've been sent here for a reason. My Alastor is counting on me.

He hardened his resolve for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Lucifer.”

He was jerked out of his brooding by Alastor's hand waving in front of his face. Based on the look of barely concealed impatience, this was not the first time his name had been called.

Though it was the first time he had been called by that name other than that night in front of the bonfire. A small tingle skittered down his spine.

“Ah! Yes. Coffee. Uhhhh…” he trailed off, squinting to look at the menu hung from the rafters above the barista's head. “I'll have a…”

Lucifer froze. Why were there so many damn options? He could feel Alastor’s expectant gaze boring into him. He was taking too long. He just had to pick one.

“I’ll just get what he got!” He blurted, just to relieve the pressure of having to make a decision, and almost immediately cringing when he realized he was probably signing himself up for plain black coffee. He just knew that Alastor’s insistence that the only good drinks were dark and bitter had to have carried over. Ugh.

The barista gave him an indulgent smile. “Coming right up.”

“That’s adventurous of you considering you don’t know what I got,” Alastor said with a raised eyebrow. They lingered around the counter while they waited for their drinks.

Lucifer chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “I panicked.”

“I see that.”

Alastor frowned, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. “I’m going to ask a question, and I’d rather it not count.”

Here it comes.

Lucifer braced himself. Would it be something that would require him to reveal who he truly was? Who Alastor was? He was starting to have second thoughts about this whole ordeal. Perhaps it would have been easier to just tell him in his own time instead of setting up this elaborate song and dance.

“That’s not really how the deal works.”

Alastor sighed, but it held no heat. He seemed resigned. “Very well, then.”

The barista set their coffees on the counter in front of them. Lucifer took his mystery drink, and they settled on a couch tucked away in the corner of the cafe. Tension built between them as he waited for Alastor to ask.

He seemed content to let the possibilities linger for a moment, getting comfortable and taking a sip of his drink. He hummed with approval. Lucifer’s stomach, however, turned. He merely gazed at the steam curling out of the lid of his paper cup, letting the heat sink into his palms.

Alastor put him out of his misery, at last.

“Are you okay? I’ve never seen you this nervous.”

Well, that wasn’t what he expected.

“Is that really your question?”

Alastor’s eyebrows knit together – with concern or exasperation Lucifer couldn’t tell. Oddly enough he was so much harder to read without the large, swivelling ears to give away his innermost thoughts and emotions, even if he had full motion of his lips now.

“It’s as valid a question as any. You’re not usually so…” He paused, picking the right descriptor with a tilt of his head. “Flighty. Distant, even.”

How unusual for Alastor to give up an advantage just to be kind, but then Lucifer reminded himself for the nth time that this wasn’t the Alastor he knew. When would that become real? Each time it became apparent felt like a bittersweet rending of his heart.

The gentle tug on his throat reminded him he had to answer, and answer honestly.

Man, he really was out of it today.

“I suppose I'm just nervous, and maybe a little depressed…” he trailed off, but that wasn't enough to satisfy either Alastor or the deal so he added, “I'm afraid you won't like the answers to some of the questions you may have. That it might scare you away or make you angry. I carry a lot of baggage, and talking about it isn’t easy for me.”

His worst fear clawed at the chain with sickly, grasping fingers, yanking on it weakly. He could ignore it. He was powerful enough to loosen it with a thought, but a secret part of him wanted – no, needed to be honest.

“I’m afraid of ruining your life. You seem to have built something really great for yourself here. It would kill me to fuck it up… but a deal is a deal, so lay it on me.”

Alastor studied him for a long moment. They sat in silence far longer than what was comfortable, nothing but the ambient sounds of the coffee shop to fill the chasm between them.

“At least I know you’re going to be genuine when answering my inquiries now.”

“Did you doubt I would?”

“I don’t know you well enough to say for certain.”

That felt like a punch to the gut. Lucifer looked down at the cup in his hand like it would save him from the ache in his chest. But nothing could. Now was not the time for negative thoughts. He could feel himself walking up to the edge of the pit again.

No. No time for a depressive spiral now. Maybe later he would treat himself to a nice wallow, but right now he was on a mission.

“I'm sorry,” he paused to take a sip of his drink, braced for the rich bitterness of black coffee that would remind him of his heart’s home all over again. Prepared to be taken back to another place and time, swallowed whole by memories of better days.

Instead, the taste of sweet apples and cinnamon filled his mouth, the shock to his tastebuds enough to make him cough. Alastor melted into giggles, patting Lucifer on the back as he hacked up hot liquid from his lungs.

“That’s not coffee!” he gasped, clearing his throat.

“Indeed, it’s not. Spiced apple cider, actually,” Alastor replied with a smirk. He passed Lucifer a few napkins. He took them gratefully, dapping at the stains on his pink button down.

“This is your usual?” Lucifer held the paper cup as if it would bite him. This was certainly a new development. “It’s not a little… sweet for your tastes?”

Alastor shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink. “Apples are my favorite fruit. I like this cafe in particular because their cider is a little more sour than the kind at the store.”

Lucifer hid his blush behind his cup. Perhaps he had more of an influence on Alastor’s tastes than he assumed. He tried not to think too hard about why that would be. The answer was frankly embarrassing.

“It’s good.” He cleared his throat again. “You know… when I’m not expecting coffee. Apples are my favorite, too.”

This was a safe conversation, and Lucifer leaned into it, soothing his frayed nerves with something casual.

“I actually planted an apple orchard once! Well, more than once, but the uh… city took it down. My house wasn’t zoned for agriculture haha…”

“What a pity.” Alastor frowned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They sparkled as he finally squeezed a few more personal details from Lucifer. “So what do you do when you’re not getting screwed over by the government?”

Wait for you to need me again.

But he couldn’t say that. Not only did it sound pathetic, but he felt he had done a damn good job keeping himself occupied in the in-between. He had put his best foot forward in the past couple decades despite heaven’s (and his new arch nemesis, the deer cherub’s) interference. Surely if he rambled about his hobbies that would satisfy the deal.

“I bounce from hobby to hobby, ya know. Writing, painting, making music.”

He saw the way Alastor’s interest sparked when he mentioned music, the way he leaned forward and locked eyes with him with rapt attention.

“You play.”

Not spoken as a question, but the implication to go on was apparent. Alastor caught on fast, and Lucifer felt a wry smile creep across his face. Perhaps if he could bait Alastor into using his last question on something easily answered then he could shake off the lingering dread, and act less like he was waiting to be torn into with claws and teeth.

“I do.”

Silence stretched between them again. Lucifer swallowed. Alastor’s eyebrow twitched in irritation, neither of them willing to give any ground. Pride warring against unyielding pride.

“Well, you must not be terribly talented since you’ve never brought it up.”

This fucking guy.

Lucifer chuckled darkly, leaning back into the couch, crossing one leg over the other in a pose of relaxed confidence. “I have performed in places you have only ever dreamed of.”

“Oh?” Alastor crossed his arms, tone dripping with skepticism. “I’ve never heard of any of your performances, and you’ve been in town for at least a month now. I’m no stranger to the starving artist lifestyle, but karaoke bars and street corners aren’t “the dream”, Lu.”

He raised his hands in mocking quotations, and for just a moment Lucifer could see a flicker of uncertainty in Alastor’s eyes, like perhaps he was afraid he had just gone too far. It was entirely unwarranted. The light jab made Lucifer feel more alive than he had in years. The challenge, the verbal sparring, he sucked it in like the first breath of fresh air on a spring day.

He could probably pay someone a lot of money to psychoanalyze why he needed a partner who trampled on his authority to feel worthy, but for now he let himself ease into the familiar pattern.

“I could prove it,” Lucifer stated with off-handed grace. “Hand me any instrument, and I could play it perfectly.”

Alastor’s smile widened dangerously. He sat on the edge of his seat, poised on the balls of his feet like a predator about to pounce. “How fortunate then that this cafe has a piano.”

Lucifer couldn’t wait to wipe the smug grin off his face. He rose to his feet, waltzing over to the piano with Alastor close behind. The lacquer was worn and dull, but as Lucifer brushed his fingers across keys yellowed from decades of use, the tones that emanated from beneath the lid were pure and true.

He sat on the bench, hands poised and ready.

“Any requests?” He asked, looking at Alastor out of the corner of half-lidded eyes.

Lucifer saw his expression shift to something intrigued and anticipatory. He could see the way Alastor took in his perfect posture, the calm confidence in the way his fingers picked out a simple scale while he waited for a response.

“Do you…” Alastor paused, reframing his question into a statement, the ghost of provocation still haunting his voice. “You must know Rhapsody in Blue if you’re as accomplished as you say.”

“Ah, Gershwin.” Lucifer readjusted his hands to match the key. “Excellent choice. You know he composed and arranged the whole thing in a month?!”

“I have a degree in music performance with a specialty in jazz. Of course I knew that.”

“Ah, yeah. I guess that’s something they would teach you in school, isn’t it?” Lucifer chuckled sheepishly, heart twisting in his chest, and injuring his air of competence. “My… My fiance taught me that. He was really passionate about music, too.”

Perhaps he really shouldn’t talk about Alastor – his Alastor, specifically. It felt like prodding at an open and ragged wound, only barely stitched together with willpower and a sense of purpose. At the very least it was rude to the man standing in front of him, alive, thriving, and clearly eager for his attention. Lucifer winced as this Alastor’s smile thinned across his cheeks and cocked his head in some unreadable emotion.

“I think you’re just stalling,” he interjected before Lucifer could start some rambling apology, sparing him from spoiling the mood with his melodrama. Again.

How is it he always knows how to goad me into action when I fall into despair? Then and now.

“I guess you’re all talk, and this fiance of yours was the real musical genius,” Alastor continued, and Lucifer saw the taunt for what it was: a lifeline. It seemed he wasn’t so eager to dive into the deep questions right away, either.

“I’ll make you eat your words, deer boy.”

Lucifer paused, taking a measure of silence to ground himself.

He took a deep breath.

One
Two
Three
Four

His fingers danced gracefully across the keys with an ease that belied centuries of practice, not that Alastor could know that. He found himself drifting on the wings of the music, the easy glide of the opening notes guiding him back to that easy, confident air from moments ago. Lucifer knew music. It was ingrained in the very fabric of his angelic soul.

There was a reason it was called the Heavenly Choir. Before there was language there was music, he and his siblings plucking at the fibers of the fabric of creation just to hear the melodies of the universe, tuning their magic to the tones of existence.

It was music that had drawn him to humanity. Lilith’s songs had dragged him down from heaven, and what a shock it had been to see that they had their own magic. Proof, in his eyes, that there was no creature more deserving of free will. He could only dream of what they could create when unleashed from the shackles of obedience.

Lucifer thought of none of these things as he wove his way through the melodies, so fully swept away by the music as he was. Only when he heard a quiet intake of breath – as he was building his way through the rising action, swaying to and fro and letting his hands rise and fall to meet the will of the song – did he open the eyes he didn’t realize he had shut.

He glanced over to see Alastor entranced. Gone was the cocky demeanor, the playful gleam in his eye, the charismatic mask that he put on as armor against the world. No, he sat next to him on the bench, slack jawed, and just as caught up in the moment as Lucifer was.

Lucifer preened internally, letting the satisfaction carry him through the rest of the piece, each note more playful and teasing than the last until he hit the final chord triumphantly.

There was a smattering of applause from the other customers in the cafe, and Lucifer felt more free and at ease than he had in a long time. He almost forgot to be smug as he turned to Alastor who sat unmoving, staring at him as if he had grown an extra head.

“How does that humble pie taste?”

Alastor’s hands quivered at his sides, fingers twitching like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. “How- when-”

“Oh, that sounds like the start of your last question for the day,” Lucifer quipped. His worries about their deal and any and all consequences gone if not forgotten, lost in the euphoria of a good performance, and perhaps the gratification of rendering Alastor speechless. “Go on. I know you want to.”

The question spilled from Alastor’s mouth as if he had no choice in the matter. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

A complicated answer, but perhaps one he could dance around with just enough honesty to get by without divulging his heavenly origins.

“I’ve always known,” he admitted, splaying his fingers across the keys. “Music has always been written into my being.”

“What? Like some sort of prodigy?”

The last word reeked of envy. Lucifer didn’t need to stick his tongue out to taste the sin wafting off the man in thick waves. He probably should have guessed as much. Alastor had spent the vast majority of this life honing his craft. To hear someone say they were made with the ability inherently would raise his hackles.

“That’s another question, and you’re fresh out!” Lucifer chided, and it earned him a dirty look. “But I’ll throw you a bone. Never let it be said that I’m not generous.”

Lucifer wiggled his eyebrows at his companion, who only rolled his eyes in response.

“Not a prodigy.” That would have implied that he had ever been a child, but seeing as how he was giving Alastor a freebie, he didn’t have to be entirely honest. “I’ve still spent endless hours pouring my sweat, blood, and tears into becoming the musician I am now. Music has always just… spoken to me.”

It, of course, helped being an immortal being. He hadn’t always drowned himself in ducks during his depressive episodes. His expansive instrument collection back in the palace was a testament to his other hyperfixations.

Fortunately, the simmering envy faded with his explanation. In its place was a look of soft understanding, though he didn’t meet Lucifer’s eyes. Instead Alastor tapped out a soft melody on the keys, filling the air with a sweet, aimless, sentimental sound.

“I can relate to that. Nothing ever makes me feel so… free. Unchained. Unburdened by expectation. I suppose it’s why I’ve hinged so much of my life on it.”

His right hand bumped up against Lucifer’s as he trailed up the keys. The music stopped. Lucifer stared at the single point of contact, frozen in place, holding his breath as though he would scare Alastor away if he moved.

“There was actually a reason I asked you to meet me today,” Alastor said, almost at a whisper.

“Oh?”

Their eyes finally met. Deep brown locking onto golden like rays of the morning sun against freshly tilled earth.

“I was offered a really amazing gig. The kind that musicians dream of. It’s good money. I could support mama if I take it. It’s worth putting off getting my masters degree, at least for a while.”

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that it was a good idea.

“It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence.”

Alastor sighed, retracting his hand to run his fingers through his hair, and Lucifer mourned the loss.

“But it will take me all over the country. Perhaps overseas, as well.”

The corner of Lucifer’s lip turned down. It was so odd to see Alastor this unsure of himself. Not scheming, plotting, or planning his next steps. Just a young man trying to figure himself out. “Isn’t that a good thing? You’ll get to see the world, meet new people, all while doing what you love most. It will be good for you.”

“You’re right, and I am excited. It’s a great opportunity…” He bounced his leg, fingers fidgeting in his lap. “I’ve worked hard to be the best at what I do. I’ve studied, practiced, and spent nearly every waking hour honing my craft. I deserve this.”

“And yet…” Lucifer prompted.

“It’s silly.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a silly guy.” He stuck his tongue out, and circled his finger around his temple, and Alastor chuckled. The sight made Lucifer’s heart kick in his chest.

“I’ve never left Georgia, and well… Mama will be here all alone. It’s just been her and I against the world ever since I was born. Leaving her for a whole year on this tour, perhaps longer if they decide to keep me on, something about it feels wrong.”

Alastor looked down at the hands in his lap, steepling his fingers together to still them. Lucifer wondered if he was accustomed to talking about himself like this. How many people did he really have to open up to, or had he cultivated a mask for himself to keep people at an arms distance just as he had in Hell?

“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” Lucifer commented, voice low and gentle. “It’s normal to go through some growing pains at this point in your life, and I’d be willing to bet that your mom is cheering you on.”

He certainly had for Charlie when she had started yearning for her own independence. Even from a distance he didn’t know how to cross, he had only wanted her to thrive – to fly and find herself despite the insatiable urge to cling to her, the desire to solve all her problems with a snap of his fingers and a burst of angelic power. He couldn’t count how many fights he had with Lilith about it, and perhaps she had been right in a way, but her hands off style of parenting had always clashed with his own.

“Oh, you have no idea. She’s been trying to push me out of the nest for years.” Alastor’s voice shifted higher, his mild southern draw deepening as he imitated his mother. “You don’t need to take care of an old woman like me. You just go on and take that job, and I’ll be just fine. Find yourself a nice guy or gal to bring home while you’re at it.”

He cringed, shaking his head before adding, “She means well, but for some reason I can’t help but worry. There’s no logic behind it.”

Lucifer had his theories on that, as well. His mind drifted back to a night a couple years into their courtship when he had watched Alastor gaze longingly into emerald flames as he told the tale of the demise of his mother from his previous life. There had been no tears as he explained how he hadn’t had the chance to be by her side as she had withered away from disease while he served in The Great War. In their place had been the cloying scent of regret, claws buried into the upholstery hard enough to rend the fabric, and the bitter taste of words left unspoken. It seemed some wounds ran deep enough to transcend not just one death but two.

“Fear isn’t always logical, but you can’t let it hold you back regardless.”

Alastor sighed. “Of course, you’re right, oh wise pigeon.”

Lucifer nudged him with his hip and the dour mood broke as they fell into gentle laughter.

“All that to say, who knows when I’ll see you next. Next time I’ll have to be more blunt about my question. I still have no idea what you actually do for a living, or why you’re in Atlanta right now.”

He stood up from the piano, closing the lid, and Lucifer could feel their time coming to an end. He wanted to cling to him, to follow him to his next destination, to drag him back to Hell, to claw his chest open, bury himself into Alastor’s skin, and stay there until this interminable distance between them ceased to exist. He pushed down the urge.

Instead, he forced a sly smirk and teased, “It looks like you’ll have plenty of time to think about it. Who knows what secrets you’ll pull from me next time. Maybe I’ll even tell you about my extensive collection of rubber ducks.”

Alastor blinked once. Then twice. “Well, that wasn’t on my list, but consider it added.”

Good. Another easy topic, and once he could prattle on about endlessly.

They walked side by side, and Lucifer downed the last of the lukewarm cider before tossing his cup in the garbage. Alastor paused outside the door and held out a hand. Lucifer took it in his own and gave it a firm shake.

“Until next time, then,” Alastor said.

“Yeah,” Lucifer choked out, the emotion hitting him all at once. Just as he had the chance to reconnect it was being ripped away from him again – he’d have a lot of explaining to do if he started showing up in random cities around the world. His grip tightened on Alastor’s hand, and he resisted the urge to drag him in for a hug. “Try not to get yourself into too much trouble when I’m not around to save your ass.”

Alastor paused for a single second before looking down his nose, his grin spreading dangerously across his face. “Ah, so it’s only my ass you’re trying to save? Not my sparking personality or witty banter?”

Wait. Wait.

Lucifer’s sorrows scattered in confusion. Was that flirting? Was he only imagining the light dusting of red across the man’s sharp cheekbones, or the way his eyes lit with nervous energy.

“Uhhh…. Do you- It’s not- I mean-” he babbled intelligently.

Alastor released his hand and turned on his heel, cutting him off.

“Ta ta, Pidge. See you around!”

Lucifer watched him walk away, frozen in place, recovering from emotional whiplash. His eyes flicked down to the sway of Alastor’s hips without his say-so, and he felt his face burn.

“Bye…”

***************

Julie was being insufferable. Nosy, even by her standards, and yet Alastor couldn’t help but suffer her as she begged and whined for details.

“You have to tell me EVERYTHING! Did you take my advice? I told you you have to try harder! Men are oblivious. He won’t know you’re flirting unless you give him somethin’ to think about downstairs, ya know.”

They were currently lounging on her couch, and he was attempting to apply a face mask on her pale skin, but she wouldn’t stop moving. He ended up getting a glob of it in her bleached hair.

“Would you hold still?” he chastised, and she finally stilled, letting him finish. He made sure to add extra product around her mouth in the hopes it would let him speak without interruption. “I said it’s not like that. Lu is just… an anomaly. The only reason I find him intriguing is because he’s so dodgy about any personal questions.”

That and he had shown up out of the blue three times now, all in moments of crisis. It bothered him greatly that Lu had seen him vulnerable so many times. To think of the impression he must be leaving on the man. Like he was some damsel in distress. It was only the need to remedy the dire misconceptions Lu must have about him that kept Alastor coming back.

Surely.

“I’m not trying to flirt. I am trying to entice him to reveal his secrets. There’s a difference.”

“Well, I’m just saying- oh, ew.” Julie wiped her lips. It seemed no amount of green paste was going to keep her from saying her piece. “I’ve never seen you fixate on someone like this. I’ve known you for what? Three years now? And you’ve never so much as looked twice at another person. Now you’re inviting this mystery man to gigs, cafes, and parties.”

She picked up the makeup brush and began to spread the face mask across his forehead. Loath as he was to admit, Julie’s advice had come in handy. His attempt at flirting provoking Lu had garnered such lovely results. The way that deep pink flush had traveled down his slender neck…

Well, surely he was closer to making the man crack if he could fluster him with one crass comment.

“I didn’t invite him to your party. I thought you had hunted him down on his socials and asked him to come. Rude of you, by the way, to invite one of my acquaintances without telling me, and then try to pawn me off on his look-a-like.”

He still wasn’t quite over the way that kiss had made his skin crawl. Even now a shudder ran down his spine as he thought of it. What an odd situation that had been, and how foolish of him to think kissing a stranger would somehow fill the void he felt in his soul.

Live and learn, I suppose.

Julie furrowed her eyebrows, the mask cracking in the wrinkles that formed there. “You know me better than that! Besides, do you know how many ‘Lu’s are on Instagram? Even Lu’s from Florida? Trust me, I tried to do a little internet sleuthing – just for you, may I add – and I came up with nothin’. The guy doesn’t exist online.”

Alastor couldn’t help the fond smile that stretched across his cheeks even as Julie swiped across them with the brush. Despite her chaotic nature, she really did care. He had come to appreciate her brand of friendship. “Of course you did. Nothing at all? Did you try his full name?”

She shook her head, smirking. “I did, and unless he’s the literal devil from the bible I didn’t find a thing. His parents are downright cruel for naming him that.”

“I wouldn’t know, though he certainly seems like he comes from money. It’s something about the way he holds himself.” An assumption perhaps, but he certainly looked the part of a privileged white boy with parents too rich for their own good. He filed the thought away as ‘likely, but not confirmed’.

“You should have heard the way he played today, and he said he could play multiple instruments just as well. You don’t get that good without tutors.”

And not a small amount of talent. He had replayed the scene in his mind on repeat since leaving the cafe. The way he had played that piano like an extension of his own body, each phrase a display of raw emotion. It was the deepest look he had gotten into the man’s innermost self so far, spoken in a language only they could understand. He would be lying if he said it hadn’t stirred something in him. A spark of something unnamed settling into the kindling that Lu had hidden in his soul without him ever knowing.

Perhaps that was why he had taken Julie’s advice to “put himself out there.” Yet one passing remark about his own ass paled in comparison to the way that song had shifted something in Alastor’s very core.

He would have to step up his game.

Maybe this is what he meant by not wanting to ruin his life. Did Lu know the effect he had on him? That even as a boy he had dreamed his one time friend would come back one day? There had to be something beneath the surface. Each time they interacted it felt like he was looking at the man through curtains, sheer enough to distort but not hide. And if he could just keep pushing them aside…

“Come on, Al!” Julie shouted, snapping him out of his reverie. “Look at you! Denial is a river in Egypt, kitten. I don’t see why you won’t at least admit you’re interested.”

“He’s merely a puzzle I haven’t solved, yet. You know how I hate not knowing.” Alastor tried to muster his usual devil-may-care attitude, tried to put on a mask of indifference, not only for Julie but for himself. Judging by the way she sat on her knees, hands clenched into fists and resting on cocked hips in a posture of unwavering skepticism, he wasn’t very successful. “Even if I were interested, I’m going on the road. I may never see him again. Surely if I’m to find someone I desire they should be a little more accessible.”

“I’ve been trying to pair you up with someone for years now. I think accessibility is the least of your obstacles on the road to love.”

Love?! Alastor sneered, shaking his head at the very mention. No. That’s definitely not what this was. Curiosity, sure. Interest, maybe. The ineffable desire to get to the root of this magnetic pull the man had on him, perhaps. But love?

“You are utterly ridiculous,” He sighed, collapsing back into the couch and closing his eyes. There was still something niggling at the back of his mind. “You really didn’t invite him to the party?”

Julie shook her head, and raised three fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor. I may be your eternal wingman, but I wouldn’t set you up with two people at the same time.”

She chuckled at the thought. “That’s chaotic even by my standards. Speaking of chaos, I’m gonna grab some more wine. If this is our last hangout sesh before you head off we’re makin’ the most of it!”

She stood, turning away from him, her low backed shirt revealing the small, diamond shaped birthmark decorating her back right beneath her shoulder blade.

He grinned. “Whatever will you do without me?”

Chapter Text

Lucifer couldn’t remember the last time he had a vacation. Sure, he had taken time off – too much time off – of his kingly duties, but when your entire realm was your prison even the resorts and pink sand beaches of Sloth didn’t feel like a tropical getaway.

This, though. This was a vacation.

Lucifer lounged on a pool chair, soaking up the heat of the California sun. The contract with Heaven stipulated he had to stay relatively close to Alastor no matter where he went, but it still gave him enough leeway to take in the sights wherever the man happened to go.

He had gotten a text this morning saying that Alastor was in Los Angeles for a show. Of course, he couldn’t know that Lucifer was only a few dozen miles away – would always be a few dozen miles away no matter where on the map this new job took him.

He had replied, perhaps too quickly, attention starved as he was ’Break a leg.' followed by ’Except don’t actually do that.’

Lucifer tried not to think too hard about what Alastor had said next.

Alastor: If I do, will you come save me again?

Of course he would. A thousand times over. Thank the stars that wasn’t a question he had to answer with complete honesty. Lucifer was bad enough at holding back the dam of emotions piling up behind his chest. How many times had he pushed them down, and down, and down again? If Alastor sprung that particular leak he would be washed away.

More like scared away.

The time was coming when Lucifer would have to tell him the truth. Like Icarus he was drifting ever closer to the sun each time they spoke.

What if he just… didn’t?

What if he disappeared, took a one way trip back to Hell and let Alastor live out the rest of his life in blissful ignorance? Lucifer could smell the lack of sin on him. The little he had was overpowered by the overly sweet and clean odor of heavenly virtues.

And if Alastor of all people was on the road to redemption, what did that mean for Charlie’s project? It could be nothing less than an outstanding success.

Heaven wouldn’t like that. Lucifer didn’t need to pay attention during every tedious meeting to know that when Charlie proved her methods in the next few decades that Sera would try to put a stop to the perceived threat.

Lucifer glanced around at the people around him. Children splashing in the shallows, teenagers rough housing, pushing each other in, young couples canoodling in the shade. He estimated about one in four had the telltale sign of a reincarnated soul, a birthmark usually placed above a vital area – the heart for most. Those were the ones who had entered their next life willingly, but he saw a few that had been stabbed in the back, even slashed through the gut or throat.

Just like Alastor… He hadn’t gone willingly.

He would have to send another message to Charlie.

For having been absent from Hell’s inner workings for as long as he had before Charlie had decided to turn everything on its head, Lucifer found it increasingly difficult to stay on his divinely enforced vacation.

No. He would have to trust her to work something out with Sera. If anyone wanted the best for their people it was his little girl. Surely she would tell him if she was in over her head, or if there were any major events. Right?

Even still, he gave a light tug on Ashe’s leash, a gentle notice that they were needed to run a letter. He received two tugs in return, their code that they would make their way to Earth at their earliest convenience.

He looked around, making sure no one was paying him any attention before snapping a pad of paper and pen into existence. He wrote out a letter to Charlie, starting with the pleasantries. He had missed his daughter deeply, his longing for her unimpeded by the oppressive guilt he had felt when they had been separated by his own negligence. As bitter as he felt about the mysterious figure that had sent Ashe to corrupt Alastor (and Lucifer was still determined to discover that particular detail) he was grateful that their folly had granted him a line to Hell.

He was just finishing up, signing ‘Dad’ with a flourish, when Ashe took a seat in the pool chair next to his. They were dressed in a bathing suit, their human disguise no longer adorned with the ridiculous blonde wig. They assumed the posture and ease of a human so easily, relaxing into the seat as naturally as if they were merely on vacation like everyone else surrounding them. Lucifer felt a small pang of jealousy. He had been here for over two decades, and blending in still didn’t come easy.

“Mr. Morningstar,” they addressed him, acting to any onlookers as if they were starting a casual conversation. Lucifer eased back, making himself relax in turn. He offered the letter, now tucked into an envelope, with a flick of his wrist.

“I believe you know where this goes.”

“Of course, sir,” they replied, tucking the letter into a bag.

“Is Charlie doing well?”

Ashe hesitated for just a moment. “She is. Running hell has been difficult, but she’s handling it as well as you may expect.”

Truthfully, Lucifer didn’t know what to expect. He knew his daughter was determined to upend the entire way of things; something he had tried to do so many millennia ago with little to no success. Even making Hell a more decent place to live had seemed like an impossible task, but as he looked around again at the former sinners enjoying their holidays in peace around him, he could see tangible progress.

She truly is the best of my creations…

He was glad to be wearing sunglasses. It would ruin his air of intimidation if Ashe were to see the way his eyes were watering.

“Good. Keep helping her wherever you can. Has anyone from The Vee’s come looking for you yet?” Lucifer didn’t like employing someone already under contract, but it wasn’t as if he had many options.

They reached up, cushioning their head with their arms, stretching languidly as they soaked in the sun. Lucifer’s eyes were drawn to their pale skin and slender figure.

Almost as slender as Alastor. I wonder if I can convince him to go to the beach with me. I bet I’d finally get him to wear something other than those awful, old-fashioned swimsuits now that he has modern tastes.

He shook his head, dislodging the vision of much darker skin shimmering with ocean spray. Damn succubi. It had to be Ashe’s presence causing these wandering thoughts.

“No, sir. No one has come to check for me, yet. I don’t know if they assume you found and killed me, or if I just haven’t completed my task, but…” They scrunched up their face, fear marring their beautiful features. “I’m scared they’ll find me.”

“Don’t worry too much. You’re Hellborn. Your contract is just a piece of paper to an Overlord. Breaking it can’t harm you.” Magically, at least. Lucifer tried to infuse as much confidence into that statement as he could. “Tell Charlie to talk to Ozzie – discreetly, mind you. We want as few people as possible knowing what you’re doing for us, but he should be able to take you back under his wing once all this is over.”

“Yes, sir.” Lucifer saw some of the tension leave their frame.

“Why’d you even get caught up with Valentino, anyway? Ozzie has way better working conditions for his employees.”

Lucifer didn’t need to know, but he figured he should probably understand the demon he was sending to his daughter a little better, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. It wasn’t often he associated with those of the working class.

Ashe cringed, lax persona cracking like a thin sheet of ice. They looked hesitant to answer, so Lucifer added, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s not part of the job or anything.”

Perhaps that would damage the front of the fearsome king he had built up for the succubus, but he never could make himself feel comfortable flexing his authority over those who didn’t deserve it.

They sighed, tilting their head away from him. “It’s real dumb. You’d think I’d know better having grown up in Hell than to trust a guy who says he’s gonna turn me into the next Angel Dust.”

“Ah… Pride, envy, and perhaps a touch of greed? Not just the downfall of human souls. I would know.”

Ashe paused, looking at Lucifer like they were seeing him for the first time. “Yeah. I guess you would, wouldn’t you?”

As happy as Lucifer was to wax philosophical about the nature of sin, he got the impression it wouldn’t be welcome. The last thing he needed was to force someone under his employ to suffer through a lecture on philosophy out of obligation.

“You’re free to go. I’ll see you next time.”

“Yes, sir.” Ashe sat up, taking their bag in hand and starting to wander off as if to go fetch a drink, or perhaps go back up to the hotel room. Their acting skills were impeccable. He could see how they would want to be more than just another one of Ozzie’s servants. They turned back to Lucifer, pausing to add, “Don’t worry too much about Charlie. She’s actually doing great. Change for the better is always slow in Hell, but she really seems to care. That’s more than most royals can say.”

Lucifer felt his heart warm in his chest, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face. “That’s my girl.”

Ashe returned his grin and waved, a touch too informally, but Lucifer never truly cared about decorum. That was always more Lilith’s deal. He sunk back into the pool chair, intending to get a little more R ‘n’ R, but just as his eyes closed he felt the ends of his hair rise in a static charge.

“Hello, Ansel. Come to enjoy the sunlight? It’s not usually your thing.”

Sure enough the little shadow danced along the underside of his beach umbrella. He looked mildly uncomfortable with so much direct light around. Lucifer frowned, and with a wave of his hand the umbrella turned opaque, offering Ansel a little more shade. He buzzed happily.

Lucifer had discovered that Ansel had taken up residence inside the apple-shaped ruby in Alastor’s engagement ring. He didn’t always come out, sometimes staying hidden for days at a time. Lucifer wondered if perhaps he was saving his energy. He had no clue the logistics of how it was that Alastor had an untethered piece of his soul, especially now that they seemed entirely separate. Before he had thought Ansel was just an extension of Alastor’s will, but that was just one more mystery that had died with him. Lucifer was still grateful for the company.

Right now he was pointing expectedly at Lucifer’s phone sitting on the table beside him which could only mean one thing.

Lucifer picked up the device, clicking it on. Sure enough there was another message from Alastor.

“I’m supposed to be relaxing right now!” Lucifer complained without any heat behind the words. Regardless, he opened the message.

“Alastor: I’ve broken three legs, none of which are mine. Just finished the sound check. The guitarist keeps playing the wrong notes.”

Lucifer snickered, smiling at his phone like a sap, and at the moment he didn’t care how ridiculous it was. Another message came in, a selfie of Alastor backstage. In the background you could see just a sliver of the packed stadium, screaming fans frozen in poses of raucous excitement. Lucifer barely noticed.

All he could think was that this was the first selfie he had ever received from the man. He had only ever managed to get one picture of Alastor after weeks of begging. It had taken nothing short of three, contractual, open ended favors and a very enthusiastic blowjob to get him to agree to a single, un-glitched picture.

Lucifer clicked his phone display off then on again. His heart ached as he looked at his lock screen. Alastor’s soft, genuine smile peeked out the top of Lucifer’s hair, his chin resting on top of his head. Warm vermillion eyes gazed not at the camera but at Lucifer beneath him.

He unlocked his phone and a similar face smiled up at him from the screen. Familiar but not the same.

Pidge: That’s quite the crowd. You sure I don’t need to come hold your hand?”

Alastor: Please. Stagefright is for amateurs.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, amused. Familiar but not the same, indeed.

Alastor: Gotta go, my manager is giving me that look. Talk to you later.”

Pidge: Looking forward to it :)

**************

“Alright, everybody. Now bend over nice ‘n’ easy inta downward dog.”

Angel was running his weekly yoga class, an opportunity to relax and interact with the residents of her hotel that Charlie never missed. She let out a deep sigh as she bent over, bracing her hands flat against the floor, feeling the deep stretch in the back of her thighs.

“That’s right! Get that ass up in the air, ‘n’ hold it. Deep breaths.”

Charlie giggled. As much as she had wanted redemption for Angel, she was glad that he had eventually decided to stay in Hell, taking up a fulltime position as a recreation director at the hotel and settling down with Husk. She had long since come to the conclusion that happiness could be achieved though other means, and “redemption” didn’t necessarily equate to earning a halo.

“Now roll your spine up inta Mountain pose. Really stick ya chest out as you inhale.”

She was starting to feel a change in the wind. A stirring among her people. Hell’s general populace had had plenty of time to adjust to her dad’s absence. In the grand scheme of eternity, he had only made a token appearance before following Alastor’s soul to Earth. When Charlie had stepped up over 20 years ago she had been met with skepticism, mockery, and occasionally blatant disrespect. It hadn’t been easy, but with her dad’s advice she had let it roll off her like water off a duck's back.

Recently there had been a shift, almost too subtle to notice. Crime rates were dropping, tensions between the Sins had relaxed, even the Goetia had stopped fighting amongst themselves so much. It felt like Hell, itself, was finally taking one deep breath.

“Breathe out an’ relax. Good job today, sluts! I’ll see ya back same time next week.”

Charlie took a step toward Angel, intending to chat with him, catch up a little. It felt like ages since they had the opportunity to just talk.

“Charlotte.”

Lilith’s voice cut through her zen like a knife. All the tension Charlie had just released came back to her in a rush. She turned on her heel to see her mom looming from the edge of the room, far from any of the residents packing up their workout bags. Charlie made her way through the crowd.

“Hey, mom…” She shifted from foot to foot under an all too familiar, disapproving stare. “Can I help you?”

Charlie hated this. Hated this division that had formed between them. Lilith had always been a strict parent, but ever since she came back from god-knows-where there was something different – a coldness that had frozen over her heart. Charlie did her best to ignore it, had even tried talking about it, but Lilith seemed content to let her secrets remain just that.

Lilith put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her into a mist of purple smoke. When she regained her bearings she was back in her office. “Oh! I was actually about to go talk to Angel, but I guess we can move to my office.”

“Charlotte, what are you doing bending over, scantily clad in front of commoners? I thought I told you to show more decorum.”

That was almost true. It had been more of a passive aggressive comment about the way Charlie was spending too much time with her friends and working in the hotel, and not enough locked up in her office buried to her eyeballs in paperwork. Apparently there had been an implied correction expected of her.

Charlie shrunk under Lilith’s gaze, suddenly feeling self conscious in her yoga pants and sports bra. “Oh, we were doing yoga. It’s a healthy way to-"

Lilith cut off her explanation. “Regardless, that’s not why I need to talk to you. Why has Paimon just informed me that he has put 50% of his legions on paid leave?”

There was a cold, controlled anger in her eyes. Charlie cringed. She saw this coming when she had negotiated standing down Hell’s armies in the peacetime that had settled over them since the renegotiation of the treaty with Heaven. Paimon had pushed back, but she had won him over in the end. Lilith would be harder to convince.

She put on her most winning smile, and mustered all the Radio Demon nonchalance she could. “Well, we didn’t need them anymore. Hell isn’t at war, and what good is it to have a bunch of people standing around waiting for the end times when we have peace now?”

“They’re not people, Charlotte, they’re soldiers. Soldiers that have done nothing but train for battle from the moment they were old enough to hold a blade. What do you think they are going to do once they are released into Hell’s population?”

Lilith seemed to tower over her, a dark, striking figure, looking every ounce a Queen of Hell. Charlie curled into herself, doubt creeping its way into the corners of her mind.

“I mean, they can go live normal lives? Start families, find hobbies that aren’t… well, killing, I guess.”

“That’s not how this works, Charlotte-”

“But it could be!” Charlie exclaimed, holding her hands out, pleading to finally be taken seriously. “If sinners can change then anyone can!”

“There’s no proof of that.” Lilith didn’t raise her voice, but something in the way she spoke demanded to be heard and brokered no argument. “It’s time you stop this nonsense. You’re not doing our people any good by playing make-believe with your friends. It’s time to grow up and act like the Queen you’re meant to be.”

“But how am I supposed to do that when you won’t even tell me how? I’m doing my best!”

Lilith’s lips pursed, the only crack in her icy facade. “I can’t hold your hand through this. I can’t tell you what to do or you’ll become useless and complacent like-”

Lilith cut herself off, but Charlie wasn’t as naive as she used to be. She knew it wasn’t only the red cheeks and pale skin that marked her as Lucifer’s daughter. The similarities ran far deeper.

“You need to figure it out for yourself,” Lilith continued, breaking the moment of awkward silence that had fallen between them. “Being a Queen is about taking on the burdens of our people and carrying them with poise. I know you can do it.”

Part of Charlie wanted to fight, to scream, but that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Another, more rational part of her wanted to sit her mother down and talk it out until the gentle, loving parent from her earliest memories returned to her. But she was afraid – terrified that pushing back or asserting herself would make Lilith disappear again. Maybe it was irrational, but after all this time she couldn’t help the feeling that she had been the reason for Lilith’s unexplained departure from Hell.

So instead, head bowed, she relented. “Okay… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good girl,” Lilith responded, and Charlie could almost hear the warmth behind it.

There was a knock on her door, and Lilith began to retreat. She opened it to reveal Ashe standing outside.

“Your Majesty,” they said with a deep bow to Lilith as she passed them by. She paused for a moment, assessing them with a calculating gaze.

“You’re new.” Merely a statement of fact, but her tone demanded an explanation.

Ashe took it in stride, keeping their eyes down. “Just about, Your Majesty. I was hired on a few months ago."

Lilith’s gaze narrowed. “Charlotte, I believe you have enough sex workers on payroll. You don’t want people thinking this is a brothel.”

With that she glided down the hallway without another word.

“Hey, Ashe!” Charlie exclaimed far too cheerfully. It sounded forced even to her ears.

“Sorry about that, she’s just a littleeee-,” She looked around making sure her mother was gone. “tense with all the changes lately, but anyway that’s not why you’re here! Come on in!”

Ashe relaxed with only Charlie for company. Charlie was glad that she didn’t evoke the same fear in her citizens as her parents did even if she was the standing queen. It often equated to evoking even less respect, but it didn’t sit right with her when her people looked at her like she might smite them on the spot.

Ashe reached into a bag and slid out a letter, sealed with Lucifer’s sigil.

“His Majesty seems to be having a lovely time topside. He was lounging by a pool when I saw him today. Being a guardian angel must be a pretty nice gig. Lots of PTO.”

Charlie grabbed the letter and tore it open, a more sincere form of joy seeping into the cracks in her facade.

“Dad deserves a break after all he’s been through.” Charlie was only a little jealous, but he had run Hell for thousands of years. If it was anything like the shitstorm she was wading through now she’d want a couple decades of vacation time, too.

Not that everything was going swimmingly for Lucifer. Charlie had been shocked to hear that he and Alastor had barely talked. Her father’s second letter had been more detailed, telling her of the warding glyph and the scant few times he had gotten to interact with Alastor. When she had encouraged Lucifer to go to Earth she had imagined something out of a bad romance novel – Lucifer watching over Alastor’s every step as he got older, transformed into the gardener, the butler, the family friend. Maybe even going so far as to age his human body with Alastor, born on the same day, at the same hospital, and live in the same town so they’d never have to be apart only to one day break the news once Alastor came of age that he was The King of Hell’s long lost lover.

Yeah, perhaps the reality was a little healthier.

“You didn’t tell him that mom is back… right?” She asked sheepishly.

Ashe chuckled, shaking their head. “You think I want to be there when he discovers his ex wife is back in Hell? No. I’ll leave that up to you.”

Charlie paused before taking the pages out of the envelope. She should tell him, shouldn’t she?

“I will...” Charlie’s eyes shifted back and forth with nervous energy, and she began to ramble. “It’s just that he’s got so much on his plate right now with Alastor, and being in the human realm, and what if I tell him and he decides to come back, and then heaven gets upset, and doesn’t let him return. Then Alastor is left all alone, and what if he gets hurt?!”

She stood, pacing and waving the letter in the air emphatically. Ashe let her have a moment, the words pouring straight from her brain to her mouth in a flood. “I’m already having to fight with Sera at every single meeting! Any more complications, and she might try to cancel the deal we’ve made! Then what will happen to all of the souls that die in the exterminations? No more second chances!”

She clutched the letter to her chest to ground herself. She relished each one. At last she had a little guidance, direction where she had only been guessing, and the opinion of someone who had ruled over Hell for millennia. That wasn’t to mention that she missed her dad dearly. She would never regret telling him to chase after Alastor, but cutting off their contact right as they had mended the bridge between them had been difficult.

Ashe put a hand out, hesitantly resting it on Charlie’s shoulder. “Hey, I don’t think catastrophizing is gonna help. He doesn’t have to know yet, and I’m sure as fuck not going to tell him.”

Charlie looked up and sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I just feel so guilty hiding such a huge thing from him, you know?”

She shook her head, stopping her own tirade. “Sorry, you don’t need to hear all this.”

“It’s fine. Honestly, it’s a little refreshing to see the royal family has the same problems as everyone else. You fight and bicker, but at the end of the day you protect each other. Well… At least your dad does. He put on a fierce front when he found me, but he’s a lot softer than he lets on, isn’t he?”

Charlie smiled fondly. “I think ‘The King of Hell’ is a mask he wears. I mean, don’t tell him I said this, but I think he’s still more angel than he’d ever let on. He shows it more around the people he loves. It’s not a side of him I saw much as I started getting older, but after we reconnected following the fight with Adam… After he found Alastor, really, I think he got more comfortable being himself.

“It’s weird. When you’re a kid your parents always seem so much larger than life, and then you grow up and suddenly they become people. Full of just as many struggles and quirks as everyone else.”

Charlie sighed.

If only there were a way to get through to mom the way I did with dad.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together, shifting the mood away from her somber thoughts. “Go have the rest of the day off. I’ll let you know when I have another letter.”

“As you wish, Princess.” Ashe said with a shallow bow and a knowing smirk. They made their way to the door. “Nice outfit by the way. Very athletic chic.”

Charlie looked down to see she was still wearing her workout clothes. Ah right. That reminded her she had missed her opportunity to talk to Angel, too.

“Thanks…”

When Ashe left she sat down, smoothing out the letter she had lightly crumpled in her fidgeting. She frowned as she got into the meat of it. It seemed there was still undue cruelty taking place in the exterminations that was visible from the other side.

She had fought hard for redemption, and when that hadn’t worked she had fought for reincarnation. With Alastor’s deal making expertise she had reached a compromise with Sera that would not only give her people a second chance, but also free them of any chains they had binding them in Hell. It had been something Alastor had been particularly firm about, which had struck her as odd considering that as an overlord he would lose souls in the process.

I’m losing them to the exterminations anyway, my dear. How fun it will be to hunt them down once they fall right back to Hell!

Every day she was grateful for what he had helped her accomplish. Because of that she knew that his death hadn’t been the end for him. It took the edge off the grief she felt as losing her second father figure.

She still missed him desperately.

If she didn’t have her mother’s guidance then she’d just have to follow her father's example. She forced the corners of her mouth to tilt up into a smile.

There was more work to be done.

Chapter Text

Tonight’s concert had been good but not great, Alastor thought as he packed away his trombone. Serina had told him that the roadies were hired to pack for him. That was easy for her to say when she was the star. Even this long on the road, he still maintained that he should be the only one to touch his instruments.

Memories from the drunken night with Lu surfaced unbidden in his head. The hazy outline of what happened replayed in his mind more often than seemed normal. He certainly hadn’t minded then, when Lu had piggybacked him and all his things home.

He hadn’t seen Lu since going on the road, and maybe it was just because he happened to be in the man’s home state that Alastor couldn’t get him out of his head. Florida was huge, and Lu only seemed to appear at the most inconvenient times – like when Alastor was making a complete fool of himself. Nevermind that he would probably have broken his back at 7 years old, or been smeared across the crosswalk a few years ago. Sometimes he wondered if he would have rather been spared the humiliation.

Perhaps that was a bit dramatic.

Alastor shook his head. Useless thoughts. Instead, he should be thinking of his plans for the night. Julie had come down to Florida to catch his show in Tallahassee, though he highly suspected that her intentions weren’t entirely pure. The last he had heard she had gotten into a spot of trouble with some of her more unsavory friends, and if he were a betting man (and he certainly was) she was coming to him to hide like a child cowering behind their mother’s skirts. Typical Julie. He truly wished he could be mad, but after so long bouncing from town to town he was begrudgingly grateful for the familiar face.

He finished putting his trombone into its case, and began to haul it toward the car he had rented for the evening. He opened the back door of the venue into a narrow alley, and was only half surprised when he heard voices. Perhaps it was just a few fans staying long after wrap to get Serina’s autograph. It wouldn’t be the first time security did their jobs poorly.

“Come on. Why don’t you give me a nice big scream?”

Alastor froze, his nails dug into his palm in a white knuckle grip on his instrument case. Something was very wrong.

“How ‘bout you scram?”

Alastor heard Julie’s voice, and his blood ran cold. All she had to do was wait for him for 30 minutes, and she couldn’t even manage that without finding trouble.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” a gruff male voice came from under a black hoodie. “I bet you’ll sing so pretty for me with the right motivation.”

Alastor could only make out their silhouettes from this far away, but the man was massive, easily twice Alastor’s weight and a whole foot taller than his six foot frame. He hovered over Julie, dwarfing her, pushing her back into the wall, and caging her in with two tree trunk arms.

“My friend is gonna be here any minute!” Julie exclaimed, and Alastor could hear the fear seeping into her voice. He looked around for anyone else, but was met with nothing but flickering streetlights and an otherwise empty alleyway.

“Please don’t…” Julie began to plead, the severity of the situation sinking in. Her eyes caught on Alastor’s for a mere moment as he quietly stalked up behind, raising the solid mass of his trombone case over his head. They widened a fraction, a message received: keep talking. “My friend will beat your ass! He’s tall! And strong! And dangerous!”

Her threats sounded shallow to Alastor’s ears, but it was keeping her attacker at bay for the time being. He felt something dark settle in his heart – a hatred for men like this. Men who would corner a woman in an alleyway. Men who made themselves feel big by making victims of those who were smaller and weaker.

“Oh, I’m counting on it, sweet cheeks,” the man said, chuckling darkly. “And I bet he’s just as protective of his little pets. I got paid a lot of money to rile him up, but honestly, I woulda done this for free.” He put a disgusting hand against Julie’s face in a mockery of affection.

What the fuck is he taking about?! Alastor thought, but it didn’t matter. Not right now. Not when he was just a few more steps away. The man was so large he was only going to get one shot at getting a solid hit. Every muscle in his body tensed as he readied himself to bring the heavy case down on the man’s head.

He was surprised to feel a secret satisfaction at what he was about to do. The corners of his mouth turned up at the edges, turning his grimace into a smile.

Alastor felt the jolt of the impact vibrate up his arms. It rattled him to the core, and he heard something crunch beneath the weight of his instrument. A breathless giggle passed his lips until, to his horror, the man didn’t drop. He distantly heard Julie yelp in surprise, as the monster of a man turned to face him, thick, dark blood leaking from his brow. From this close Alastor could see an evil red gleam beneath the darkness of his hood.

I'm seeing things again...

“There he is!” the man exclaimed, positively gleeful despite his injury. Alastor didn’t understand. Was this an insane fan? Someone targeting him because of his proximity to Serina? But no, something about this seemed too personal, and he said he had been paid.

“Julie run!” Alastor shouted. He heard her take off, yelling for help, but he couldn’t see anything past the mountain of a man in front of him. He raised his trombone in front of him defensively, but it was batted away as easily as smacking a stick out of a baby’s hand. Alastor winced as it clattered against the ground.

“What are you gonna do with that? Don’t you have a real weapon?” The attacker taunted, though there was something in the tone of his voice that made him sound sincere, like he was genuinely surprised Alastor didn’t walk around with a knife or gun. “How are you supposed to unleash your wrath like this?”

Unleash my wrath? What strange phrasing. “Do you know me?” Alastor asked, clenching his hands into fists. He was starting to feel out of his depth. If a direct blow to the head didn’t stop him, bare fists stood little chance. His vision narrowed to a pinpoint, landing on the silver gleam of a knife in the man’s hand. His heart kicked into overdrive. He could die here.

“Not personally, but oh boy, I’ve seen your work. I’ve never heard such glorious screams. Will you show me how you made such beautiful music?”

So he was a fan in some sort of twisted way, but he had to have been on drugs or perhaps experiencing some sort of psychosis. It was the only thing that made sense, and perhaps if he was high he would be slow.

Alastor rammed a punch at the man’s face. There was no crunch of cartilage, no snap of bone. It felt more like hitting stone than flesh. The only real reaction was an exasperated sigh from under his fist. Alastor tried not to let it phase him. He ducked underneath the man’s arm and kicked out the back of his knees, hoping to make him fall. It was useless. He was simply too big, with a strength that seemed nearly inhuman.

The monster of a man turned and made a grab for him, quicker than Alastor expected. He was scruffed by the back of his shirt like a kitten in massive hands, squawking indignantly.

“This is just disappointing. They’ve ruined you,” the man said inexplicably. Up close his eyes were like voids, and they sent a foreboding chill down Alastor’s spine. Nothing of what he said made sense. Who were ‘they?’ Did he think Alastor had sold out by working for a big name? If he was a fan of Alastor’s music, what did this have to do with anything? The man flipped the knife in his hand, and Alastor yelled, fighting and flailing, achieving nothing. He felt a little shred of his sanity snap when the knife was offered to him, handle first. “Please, reclaim your dignity, Mr. Radio Demon! Show me that you’re still in there somewhere!”

Radio demon? Like nostalgia from a dream, Alastor had the brief thought that he’d heard the term before – but then he was dropped back on the ground, knife thrust clumsily into his hands.

Huh.

In a moment that seemed beyond time he watched the lamplight flicker against the blade, and something about it felt right, like an old friend come to say hello. He could almost see it – the way the blood would flow when he sliced the blade over the carotid artery in the man’s neck. He saw it in his mind’s eye, like it was something he’d done countless times. It would be effortless. Simple, even. The vision was so vivid, he barely heard the quick footsteps approaching from the street. Didn’t register the small form racing in. He saw nothing but a flash of blonde hair, and for a wild second he thought it was Julie who had just laid the man out, flat on the ground in a single punch.

It wasn’t, Alastor realized with horror. And perhaps he should have even expected it at this point, that whenever he was in trouble, Lu would always be just around the corner.

He watched in awe as Lu straddled the man’s chest. It was so wide that his legs barely rested on the concrete, and yet there he was, wailing away in unrestrained fury – Alastor’s very own David and Goliath. Lu looked like an avenging angel, glowing in the lamplight, blood splattering with each sickening thud of his fist into the man’s jaw. Alastor’s assailant already appeared to be unconscious, which was rather shocking given the trombone slam barely phased him.

Alastor looked back down at the knife in his hands, then up at the carnage. He could help, he could end it for good. He could snuff out the life of this freak who had dared threaten one of his closest friends to reach him.

As if sensing Alastor’s intent, Lu turned around. “Don’t,” he warned. Blood was strewn across his pale face, and Alastor had the inexplicable urge to lick it away with his tongue. The thought should have disgusted him for multiple reasons, but nothing was making sense tonight. Why would this?

Lu hopped off the unconscious man’s chest. He wasn’t even out of breath, and held a hand up as if he were about to snap. He paused, shook his head, and wiped his bloody hands off on white slacks before offering a hand out for Alastor to take. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Warm gold eyes met his, unphased by the violence. No more explanation seemed forthcoming, and wasn’t that just typical? Al stared down at the offered hand, and did not take it.

“Ah! My little pigeon, come to deliver me from danger!” Alastor laughed, bordering on hysterical. This was absurd. What were the chances? If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was divine intervention.

“I’ll have you know I had it in hand this time.” He squeezed the knife before giving it an absent-minded twirl. Where had he learned to do that?

Even in the midst of this insanity, his pride was wounded. He was tired of feeling fragile, sick of being saved, especially by Lu.

As for Lu himself, he only seemed to be amused by Alastor’s frustration. “I’m sure you did, but can you blame me for getting excited to let off a little steam?”

Could he? When Alastor had just been so eager to end his attacker’s life? Maybe only a little. Besides, he surely would have lost his job if he had killed someone backstage, self-defense or not. With sense and reason seeping back into his psyche, he took Lu’s hand.

Several questions bubbled on his lips. What are you doing here? How do you always know I’m in danger? Alastor looked down at the crumpled body on the ground, still breathing but out cold. How did you do so much damage when I had barely made a scratch with a whole trombone?

...

FUCK!

Alastor slipped the knife into his pocket and dropped Lu’s hand to run over to the discarded trombone. He frantically opened the banged up case, and groaned as he lifted it out. The slide was bent out of shape, and the bell had several dings in it. He clutched it in his arms like a wounded lover.

“Oof! That’s rough, bud.” Lucifer placed a hand on his shoulder, and once again Alastor was struck by the way he found it comforting instead of disquieting. Must he always be an exception?

“Perhaps it’s not beyond repair…” Alastor sighed, resigned. He should finish off the big asshole for this alone.

“I could, uh… Take it to my guy. Repair guy. Who repairs things.” Lucifer stumbled over himself, fidgeting in that nervous way of his. How could he be so powerful and mysterious, and yet so damn awkward at the same time? “You know… Because I live here!”

Alastor looked up at Lu doubtfully. Sure, he supposedly lived in Florida, and sure, maybe he had come to Alastor’s concert, and perhaps he had waited backstage to catch Alastor on his way out like Julie had.

FUCK!

“Pardon me, I need to call my friend, and make sure she’s okay. She got caught up in the middle of–” Alastor gestured to the body on the ground. “All this.”

“Oh, yeah! Sure, but maybe we should get outta here before he wakes up.” Lucifer jabbed a thumb toward the street.

“Right.” Alastor stood, and whipped out his phone, walking side by side with Lu. He dialed Julie’s number. It rang a few times, and Alastor took a moment to look Lu up and down. His hands… There wasn’t a scratch on them. The knuckles weren’t swollen, the skin wasn’t split. Not in the way they should be after the complete beatdown he just dealt out.

Julie answered her phone. ”ALASTOR! Are you okay! I can’t find anybody anywhere! It’s like everyone has cleared out the entire block, but I found a metal pipe! I’m coming back!”

Alastor rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Don’t bother, my dear. We took care of it. Why don’t you meet me at the car?”

”Wait, wait! Did someone come to help? I’m just right around the corner.”

“You could say that.” Alastor glanced at Lu who was looking at him like he was taking stock of all Alastor’s fingers and toes. He turned away, and whispered into the receiver. “We’ve got a code gold.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? AND YOU WANT ME TO GO TO THE CAR???”

Alastor removed the phone from his ear by a few inches. “Yes, I do.”

“This is cruel, even from you.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll see you in a few minutes. Goodbye, Julie.” Alastor hung up, and turned back to Lu who seemed content that all necessary appendages were in their proper places.

“Is she okay?” He asked.

“Just a little rattled, but she’ll live. Live in the city long enough and it’s inevitable you get accosted by the stray drug addict here and there.” It was true enough, but this man had been something else. They way he seemed to know Alastor, and the confusing way he spoke. Odd things about unleashing his wrath and demons? Surely, they were nothing but ramblings from a man on too many drugs to think clearly, and yet there was just something eerie about it. Like a kernel of truth buried just out of sight.

“Good. That guy was pretty scary, huh?” Lucifer gave him a nervous smile.

Alastor had gone easy on Lu with the questions before. He took this little deal between them quite seriously, for reasons Alastor didn’t understand, but Alastor continued to play by the rules. Something about it seemed important. At the very least it was a way to prolong this odd magnetism between them, but right now there seemed no other question more pressing than this: “What are you really doing here, Lu?”

Lu’s smile fell. There seemed to be something fearful in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak, and Alastor knew it would be nothing but the truth.

“OH! Oh, my stars! Is that Lucifer???” Julie’s voice cut through the moment like the sharp edge of the knife that Alastor had snuck into his pocket. She ran toward them wielding a large, metal drainage pipe. Which building she had pried it off of, Alastor didn’t want to know.

“Julie,” Alastor said in a low voice, plastering on an indulgent smile. “I thought I told you to go to the car.”

“And miss the reunion! I couldn’t possibly!” Julie wrapped Lu in a hug like they were longtime friends, lifting him off his feet. The pipe swung precariously close to Alastor’s face, and he was forced to take a step back. “I can’t believe you’re here! It’s been so long. Shame on you for disappearing on us!”

“Yeah- nice to see you, too, Julie…” Lucifer let out a small, choked noise as the life was squeezed from him. It seemed he could take on a 7ft tall behemoth of a man, but was helpless against the small woman’s affection. “Please… put me down.”

“Of course, of course!” She placed him down on shaky feet, and he gave her a strained smile. “Thank you for helping lil’ ol’ me out of that pickle!”

Alastor cleared his throat, eye twitching as he glared down at Julie. “Wasn’t I the one who destroyed my own trombone to get you out of that ‘pickle’?” He held up his hands in air quotes. “Lu didn’t show up until the end.”

Julie for her part looked entirely shameless. “And who was it that saved your skin? Besides, I was comin’ back!”

She waved the pipe in her hand as if that proved her point. He wanted to be more upset with her, but his nerves were still jangling around in his chest. Between the strange encounter and Lu showing up to find him in another tight spot, this night was turning out to be quite the shitshow.

Alastor looked over to see Lu rubbing a hand absentmindedly over his throat. Could he have gotten hurt when he wasn’t paying attention? Perhaps when he had been contemplating murder. Whether Julie was here or not Alastor needed more time with him.

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink after that. Are you coming with us, Lu?”

Lu’s eyes snapped up, surprised to be invited. “Sure! Yeah. I came here for you, after all.”

Something warm and foreign settled itself behind Alastor’s ribs, and his expression turned a fraction softer. It wasn’t a real answer, but he would get that soon enough. He took one final look back at the alleyway where he had once again been in mortal peril, and movement caught his eye. For just a moment he saw a jagged, red smile etched into the shadows. A memory stirred, a moment of insanity one night after an argument with his mama…

He must be more shaken than he thought if he was hallucinating again.

“Al?” Lucifer pulled his attention away from the shadow creature. Those golden eyes full of so much concern.

Alastor smoothed away his overwrought nerves. “Right. Come on then. I’ll drive.”

He glanced back and the shadow was gone.

They chose to pick up a bottle of cheap whiskey and drink in Alastor’s hotel instead of going out. All three of them had enough of being out in public for the night, and if Alastor were being honest, he was avoiding further opportunities for Lu to see him in any more compromising positions. He sipped his drink slowly from a plastic cup, and watched with detached amusement as Julie tried and failed to squeeze any information out of Lu. She ended up talking more about herself than the other way around.

“And my ma said ‘Why can’t you be a singer like your sister? It’s much more ladylike than being in the back bangin’ away at the drums.’” Julie was laying on her back on top of the bed, waving her drink in the air precariously. In typical Julie fashion, she was releasing her fourth sheet into the wind. “She was furious when I joined the drumline, but fuck it! Nothing relieves stress like a good drumfill.”

Lu seemed to listen with half an ear, content to let her speak, and periodically glancing at Alastor with a strange, too fond look. This, too, seemed oddly familiar. So often Alastor felt odd waves of deja vu when Lu was around. He could recount every moment with the man with exacting clarity (with the exception of that one, too drunken night). There simply weren’t that many things they had done together, and yet nothing ever felt entirely new. What was it about him that made everything feel so comfortable?

Alastor realized he was staring when Lu met his eyes, and gave him a questioning tilt of his head. He covered the heat rising to his cheeks with a sip of his drink, grounding himself into the cushions of the singular chair in the room. “You never answered my question.”

“No, I didn’t.” Lu responded quietly.

“We have a deal.” Alastor added.

“Yes we do.” Lu glanced over to Julie, who was now rambling away about how her sister didn’t even go to music school, as if to say ‘what about her?’

Alastor was an expert at wrangling her in these states by now. All it took was a firm hand. “Julie, Lu and I are going to get some air on the balcony. Please don’t throw up on the sheets while we’re not looking.”

She rolled over onto her stomach, and to her credit, only looked a little green as she did. “Ohhhh, I see. Code gold, huh? Don’t you worry, I won’t get in the way.”

Embarrassingly, she gave Alastor an exaggerated wink and waved fingerguns in his direction. Not for the first time he wondered if her bubbly, entertaining personality was worth putting up with her antics.

Lu chuckled, and scooted off the side of the bed to make his way to the sliding glass door. He opened it and waved Alastor through. The door closed and thick, humid Florida air washed over them, warmer than any blanket. Alastor closed his eyes, and in his mind’s eye he imagined a red sky and the light scent of sulfur instead of salt blowing off the distant ocean. It filled the hollow of his soul like a secret whispered just beyond hearing.

I’ve been letting my imagination run away with me. Is this why I crave answers so badly? Why does it always feel like he can fill this hole inside me?

“She’s quite something,” Lu remarked, gesturing with his head back towards the room. “Reminds me of someone else I knew long ago.”

“Your late fiance?” Alastor asked, the warmth in his veins making him daring. If he was lucky perhaps he could squeeze out a few more details outside their one question deal. It seemed Lu was feeling talkative because he answered with a laugh, pressing his hand to his throat again. Perhaps the attacker really had gotten in a lucky punch before Lu knocked him out.

“Oh, goodness, no! One of his friends, actually. She also had a habit of crashing in at inopportune times. No offence in your choice of company, but I don’t think I could keep up with her… uh… Marriage-wise.”

“None taken.” Alastor said with a smirk, leaning against the railing a hair’s breadth away from Lu. This close he could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “Julie is well meaning. Most the time, anyway, but she’s one of the few people I’ve managed to keep close.” He glanced at Lu from the corner of his eye. “You two have that in common.”

“What an honor.” Lu grinned. Maybe it was the whiskey, but he had lost the antsy energy that he usually carried before answering the question of the day. Now he only looked relieved as he finally came around to their conversation from before. “You asked what I was doing here.”

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were stalking me,” Alastor teased, bumping Lu with his hip. “Though, if you are, you're doing an awfully bad job of it. You didn’t even reply to my last text.”

Lucifer glanced down at the street far below, a shadow of guilt settling over his face. “Yeah. I have a nasty habit of disappearing sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” Alastor gave him a knowing look.

Lu scoffed lightly. “Yeah, okay, more than sometimes.”

He breathed a deep sigh. “I was in town, since- ha! I live here, I suppose. I wanted to surprise you after your concert, stop by, say hello. Then I heard yelling from that alleyway, and here I am, again! The right place at the right time.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes. It was the answer he had assumed it would be – a perfectly logical explanation, and yet something about it rang false. He turned to face Lu, crossing his arms. “You know what they say about things like this? Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. What does four times mean?”

Lu winced, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. “Okay, I see how it looks.”

“Do you?” Alastor spat, sick of the way Lu was dodging the question – the question he promised to answer. “Because I don’t even know how it looks. You show up in the most random of places, just in time to swoop in and save me from some tragedy. Then you fuck off to god knows where! I know nothing about you, and yet I can’t get rid of this nagging feeling that you’re somehow important to me.”

“Alastor-”

“No! Tell me why you’re really here! Tell me something!”

Silence fell between them, thick and cloying. Alastor hadn’t noticed how close he had impeded on Lu’s space in his anger. He was bent at the waist, eye to eye with him – a front row seat to the war happening just behind tortured, liquid gold. He hated the way that pathetic face tore at the stitches of his soul. He hated that he couldn’t pinpoint why his barely there presence in his life took up so much space in his thoughts! Something deep inside him was helplessly caught in Lu’s orbit, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to find out why.

Lu sucked in a breath, turning away, not even to look out at the city, but to face the wall. He clutched himself, rubbing his hands over his own arms in self-soothing motions. It made Alastor want to reach out – to touch him, but his pride wouldn’t allow it.

At last Lu spoke. “Do you remember what I told you when we met in that cafe a few years ago? I told you that you wouldn’t like some of my answers. That I don’t want to ruin your life…”

“I recall. I also recall thinking that it was incredibly cryptic. What could you possibly tell me that would ruin my life?” Alastor fought the cold tendril of worry that threatened to break his resolve.

Lu curled further into himself, choking out a humorless laugh. “So many things. Ruining lives seems to be my specialty.”

Alastor's anger simmered low in his gut. How dare he not even be shown the dignity of being looked in the eye while he was fed these nothing answers. “I’m not here to throw some sort of pity party, Lu. Too many things don’t add up, and I want the truth!”

He grabbed Lu by the shoulders in a bruising grip and turned him around. Anything else he could have said died in his throat when he saw tears streaming down Lu’s face. It struck him how old he looked. He couldn’t possibly be that much older than Alastor, but looking at him now he seemed to carry the weight of endless years.

What did Alastor know of Lu? He knew that he had a wife at some point. A failed marriage so early in his life. And there was the dead fiance. How painful it must have been, and Alastor hadn’t even considered how that may have affected Lu’s ability to form connections. It was still a mystery how he died. Could it have been Lu’s fault? Or just one more loss for a man that had experienced so much life so soon? Was it really any wonder that he thought himself some sort of ill omen?

What right did Alastor have to demand anything?

He took a deep breath. Held it. And let go.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have yelled. I just have so many questions that only you can answer.” He released Lu’s shoulders, taking a step back as if putting distance between himself and this outburst. His mama would be appalled.

“No, you’re right.” Lu whispered, relaxing ever so slightly, steeling himself. “You deserve an explanation. I’ve known for a while that I would have to tell you more eventually.”

Alastor rubbed his hands over his temples, trying to ward of the impending headache. “How about I change my question for the day?”

Lu’s eyes widened before looking down again, lacing and unlacing his hands. The two bands on his ring fingers clinked against each other. “Technically, you already did. You asked if Julie was like my fiance.”

Alastor scoffed. “Oh, come on now. This is all getting a little ridiculous when all I really want is to understand you.” To understand myself. “Besides, you’re the only one enforcing this one question rule. I’d rather do away with it, if it’s all the same to you.”

He was met with a strange, distant look – one he couldn’t read. Not for the first time it felt like Lu wasn’t really looking at him but past him. Surely back into that complicated past of his.

“Yeah, the deal is a little stupid, isn’t it? I guess old habits die hard.”

“Trying and failing to live up to your namesake, I see,” Alastor chuckled, attempting to lighten the dour mood that had settled over them. It managed to wrestle a pitiful smile from his companion.

“How about this, instead. Next time I see you I’ll tell you everything you need to know about me.” Lu’s expression solidified into something more determined, a vast improvement from moments before, and though Alastor wasn’t what he would consider satisfied with this revised contract, he was at least glad to see Lu bring himself out of his wallowing. Even still, he felt snubbed.

“Why not now?” Alastor asked, barely holding back his exasperation. “The last time I saw you in person was nearly three years ago. I’d rather not wait that long.”

Lu stepped forward, and took Alastor’s hands in his own. “Alastor, do you trust me?”

“I shouldn’t.” Alastor desperately tried to still his racing heart. He hadn’t expected the contact. It was gentle, reverent, and so casually intimate that it left him reeling. Surely Lu could feel his pulse with the way his fingers pressed into his palms. Now was not the time to let his crush infatuation fixation get in the way of common sense.

“But you do, and you don’t understand why.” Lu captured him with a look that demanded all his attention. “Trust me enough to believe me when I say that once I tell you everything you think you want to know, there’s no going back. At least give yourself as much time as you can to live a normal life. Enjoy touring with your band, spend time with your mom and friends, and please cherish the time you have left because right now there are forces at work that will direct your fate whether I like it or not.”

Alastor stood in stunned silence, gripping onto Lu’s hands like they could stop the world from spinning around him. Everything seemed to focus down to that one point of contact, no longer for any reason as silly as simple feelings, but because if he let go it felt like he might fall into the void. A long moment passed where he seriously considered Lu’s words.

“Okay.” Alastor spoke the word clearly. Nothing made sense, and yet he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what Lu said was the truth. Just the same way he knew the story he was fed about Lu just happening to be in town today was a lie. There was no logic, only faith. The only faith Alastor had ever known. “I feel like I’m going insane…”

That only seemed to worry Lu more. Alastor expected a light hearted joke at his expense. Instead he was met with sincerity, and that frightened him even more. “You’re not, I promise.”

Lu let go of his hands, and despite the tepid Florida air Alastor felt cold without the contact. Lu walked to the door.

“Wait, you’re not leaving, are you?”

Lu looked back with sorrowful eyes. “I think I have to.”

“You don’t-” Alastor bit his tongue. Was he really about to start begging? Besides, where would Lu stay? A peek inside the glass door showed Julie sprawled out unconscious, her 5 foot frame taking up as much space on the queen sized bed as physically possible. He imagined himself and Lu curled up together in the tiny place that was left, wrapped in each other’s arms just to keep from falling off the edge as Julie kicked Alastor in the back in her sleep. He shook his head to dislodge the ridiculous fantasy.

Maybe he’s right. Too much has happened tonight.

He wanted to deny it. Even if he wasn’t getting answers, he wasn’t ready for Lu to disappear into the ether again, left with nothing but the occasional text to tide him over until…

Until his next crisis.

A very stupid idea formed in his head. A test of dubious merit, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to dislodge it from his brain until he tried. Perhaps he really was going insane. By every metric he should be seeking professional help at the notion that just crossed his mind, but something was going on. From the mysterious way Lu showed up at convenient times, to the strange hallucinations of shadow creatures, to the inexplicable ramblings of the man who attacked him tonight, it made a vague shape in Alastor’s mind.

Alastor straightened his spine and composed himself, putting on a pleasant smile. “Very well. Until next time, then.”

Lu paused, seeming like he didn’t quite know what to do with the sudden change in Alastor’s demeanor. Several emotions flickered across his face in a matter of seconds before settling on a small smile of his own.

“Later, gator,” Lu said, his grin growing a fraction.

“…”

“You know. Because we’re in Florida.”

Alastor blinked. On second thought he was most certainly going mad if this was the man who had captured his attention.

“You were sitting on that all night weren’t you?”

“Pfffttt, what? No,” Lu replied, but the way he giggled was a dead giveaway.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“So I’ve been told.”