Chapter Text
Since my conversation with Muffin… I’d contemplated the past (which is never good news). That night, Charlie caught me sulking at my desk and he demanded that I drag my sorry arse to bed and talk to him like a grownup. Of course, I was less than cooperative and I continued my sulking for another minute or so until Charlie physically moved me from my seat. We sat on the floor for a little while, considering he couldn’t quite drag me into the bed, my head on his lap like a pillow. He gently coaxed me into confession.
“Mycroft found a picture of Pandora and I when we were little… he asked about her.”
“Oh.” She was a sore subject for either of us, the whole event was a major turning point in our life together. It was the day I took power as JR, the day Charlie came back to me after months of being away. Years have passed since then… but it was so integral to us that we couldn’t be rid of the memories…
“Yeah.”
“Are you alright?” He brushed my freshly washed hair back, fingers massaging my scalp. “Really alright, that is. Don’t lie to me Lucifer Box.”
“I guess I’m okay, I mean… why wouldn’t I be?” Charlie huffed and looked down at me. Yes yes, I know. I am a grown man and I should be able to talk about my feelings to my husband openly and without hesitation. But many of you forget that I’m also a hopeless bastard who would have become a ball of selfish immaturity and self-loathing without said husband. “No, I’m not okay. Happy?”
“Lucifer…” He cupped my jaw, bringing my gaze to his icy eyes. “Talk to me? Please?” His thumb grazed over my skin in a languid sweeping motion. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“It feels like it was my fault Charlie!” I snapped, sitting up and backing away from my boy. That was another one of my bad habits, or rather an unfortunate trait of mine, anger. I’ve been working on it since Charlie and I started dating, but unfortunately the occasional outburst slips out. “I just- I was the reason you were there. I should have been more aware, I could have done so much more to keep you safe and I didn’t -”
“There you go, blaming yourself again.” Charlie thudded the meaty part of his hand on my head in a loving, corrective gesture (I see where Muffin gets it from now), a smile slowly crept onto our faces. “That got you in plenty of trouble before, Lucifer Box.”
Ah yes… that’s another tale for a very different day.
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be, love.” Charlie stood, offering his hand to help me up. I, of course, was happy to accept and stand with him, pulling him close into a hug, wrapping my arms around his torso, burying my face in the crook of his neck. “I will run by your side for the rest of eternity if it means I’ll be in your life. I don’t care about the danger-”
“But I do…”
“Occupational hazard.”
“Occupational hazard of being in my family, more like.”
Charlie giggled, tucking himself closer to my chest, swaying a little. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. And you know that.”
“I do.” I gently guided him to the bed, making him sit at the edge. And I got down on one knee in front of him, holding one of his hands in mine. “You are one of the most precious and beautiful people I have ever had the pleasure of having in my company, and I will do everything and anything to ensure your happiness and safety.”
“You’re already doing a wonderful job of that, love.” He kissed the tip of my nose and let his ice blue eyes wander my face, taking in every miniscule detail. “Keep going though, tell me how much you love me.”
Such a vain creature, but he was my vain creature. “I vow to protect you, and our son, until my dying day. You are the centre of my world and universe, and I would be positively miserable without you and Muffin.”
“Are you trying to marry me a second time, Lucifer? Because I just might say yes if you pull out a ring.” The mischievous sparkle in his eye lifted every burden from my soul.
“We can go shopping this weekend, if that’s any consolation for my disappointing lack of jewellery.”
“I think we can come to a peace for now.” Charlie’s finger hooked under my chin, lifting my face to his. “Kiss me.”
"For you, anything.” It was a gentle, chaste kiss, his plush lips pressed against mine as he tried to convey every ounce of love and devotion in the simple act. Whether or not it was possible to fully transfer those feelings in such a small gesture as a kiss was debatable, but I was optimistic about such things. I slipped my hand under his shirt, feeling along the thin scar that tainted his perfectly honey-kissed skin. It was a permanent reminder of the danger we had faced, so many years ago, the pain and the horrors that occurred in that cave… Thank god he lived.
“Eeeew!” A high pitched squeal came from the doorway to our room. Muffin, the little thing that I had put to bed not an hour ago, stood just at the entrance, scandalised beyond belief at our show of affection towards one another. “Papà and Bello are gross!”
“Oh you think we’re gross, bambino?” I let Charlie go for a moment to pick up the lad, holding him on my hip. “What if you get kisses too? Hm?” I nuzzled my face into his cheek, giving him kiss after kiss as he giggled, squirming out of my hold. “Kisses for Muffin!”
“Papà!” I stopped when he firmly pushed my face away with his tiny hand and wiped away the kisses I so lovingly gave to him. “No more!”
“Alright alright.” I gently sat the lad down so he could go to his Bello. “It’s long past bedtime Muffin, what’s the matter?”
“Cold,” he answered, tucking himself against Charlie’s side, “Orso and I don’t like cold.” He held up the little bear in his hands, showing that he had wrapped his friend in a baby blanket. “So we come to sleep with Papà and Bello.”
Charlie chuckled when Muffin tucked his head under his chin, putting a smile on my face. “Well you are more than welcome to stay with us all snuggled up, Muffin.”
“Love Papà and Bello!”
“We love you too, so so much.”
As I set to turning off the lights, Charlie and Muffin were already worming their way into bed, hogging all the blankets in the process. Those two would freeze me out if they kept their dragon horde of covers throughout the night. But of course, I would just sneak back in regardless.
It took a while for them to settle down and fall asleep, but not too much later I had two beautiful people safe in my arms. I never imagined myself to be a family man, and if I had told myself twenty-odd years ago that I would have a husband and child, I would have called myself insane and a liar. I’ve tried my best to change over the years, and I think I’ve done a damn-good job of it so far: No frivolous sex, no blackout drinking, no substance abuse (Yes, that truly happened in my youth). And maybe… just maybe, I could change one more thing for the better.
* * *
After leaving the RA for the day, I took a detour to Bunhill Fields. An odd spot to visit, I know, but there was a reason for my strange actions, ‘trust the process’ as they say.
The particular mausoleum that I searched for was tucked away in the shadows of the field, all but forgotten by most who paid respects to their passed families. It was nothing too outlandish, by any standard, just a simple concrete and marble structure with five caskets raised above the cold floor. Two angels stood guard at the entrance where withering rose petals gathered at their feet, they looked to the heavens, pleading for the souls inside to be accepted by the Lord and granted entry to the pearly gates. There was a fat chance of that happening any time soon, despite their deaths having passed by for years to even decades. Encased within their expensive caskets were two men and three women, my grandfather, grandmother, father, mother… and sister.
I was never one to cherish the dead, especially when those I were to ‘cherish’ didn’t give much of a shite about me while they were living. Granny and Gramps were mere phantoms in my childhood, only spoken of during holiday dinners (where they were subsequently absent for, consistently) and birthdays. Always wishing they were able to make it, mother and father saying how much they wished they were there, how much they would love to see Pandora and I grow up. I couldn’t have cared less about the old bags, never once did I see them in the flesh, though I have to say, the cash we received during Christmas was always more than welcome.
Then there was the case of Mummy and Daddy. I was sure that somewhere, deep in the cold voids that made up their hearts, they truly did love my sister and I, but did they show an ounce of affection throughout our years? No. Not a single time do I recall either of them giving a single shite about us, hell, they weren’t even home for the majority of our youth. The nannies they hired cared more about Pandora and I, and it showed.
I was twelve when I broke my arm for the first time (and it wouldn’t stop at one, unfortunately), and when I was rushed to the hospital, the nannies had to fight the hospital staff as they assumed that I was a victim of child abuse. Of course, my parents had nothing to do with the broken arm and rather my brother, Rudy, was the culprit, but I digress. The nannies called my parents, who were in Scotland, at least fifty times before eventually giving up and taking care of the whole matter themselves. That event was the last straw when it came to my bond with my parents, and from then on out, I couldn’t care less about what they thought of me.
Then there came my nonexistent relationship with my sister. Pandora, my little sister and only full-blood sibling, and I never got along. In fact, I vividly recall my exact thoughts when my mother presented her small, crying figure to me to hold: “I hate her.” Now, keep in mind I was quite the disturbed child at the time, I had very little to answer for when it came to compassion (save with my brother, who I was infinitely close with), and any thoughts of malice I had were never carried out… to completion. And as of writing this, know that I have been deemed sane and competent by several therapists (my bosses and peers never thought so, hence the multiple approvals).
She was always the odd duck, as I’ve outlined before, and after her attempt on Charlie’s life every ounce of resentment and rage that had been festering in my body came out at once. I remember nothing of what I did, what horrific injuries I caused. All I could force myself to recall was the feeling of her blood, the weight of the knife, the fear in her cold, unseeing eyes… Charlie’s fear.
Even as I thought about the event in that marble building I trembled with adrenaline. Shoving my hands in my pockets did nothing to subside the raging waves of chemicals in my mind, my eyes pricked with tears as the image of my boy’s terrified face flashed before me. I could never escape this ghost of my past, there was no running from it, no hiding away. Her life would haunt me just as much as her death and I could do nothing but face my transgressions.
I don’t know how long I stood before her casket before I finally touched the near-black wood, I had taken off my gloves and the sheer temperature of the object made me shiver. I knew her body was in there, decaying… every stab wound stitched as well as the RA mortuary could manage. They contacted me after dressing her body and making her fit for a proper burial, asked if I wanted to say my peace, but I just hung up, hoping that was all the answer they needed. Truth being, it wasn’t that I hated her, or that I believed she wasn’t worthy of a goodbye, but because I was scared of what I would do if I had seen her again. What kind of monster I would turn into.
“So long, Pandora.” I ran my fingers along the length of the casket. “I’m sorry.” She would probably spit in my face and call me a bastard if I said that to her while she was alive, but it was true. I was sorry, for everything. “May we meet again.” I gently sat a few sprigs of baby’s breath on her final resting place (the florist was quite confused as I purchased them without a bouquet), they were her favourite to knick from the garden at the cottage in Ireland.
I couldn’t help but to feed my more juvenile side as I drew a smiley in the dust before retreating from the stone structure. Warm air filtered in as I approached the entrance, giving a parting glance to them.
“Lucifer-?”
“Bloody-fucking-Christ!” I jumped back, stumbling on the marble stairs and nearly meeting my own deathly fate. “Charlie!”
He stood in the doorway, a concerned expression on his face. “I’m so sorry love! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Charlie came down to join me, kneeling next to my prone figure. “Are you okay? Do I need to-”
“I’m fine- I’m fine-” I looked around, and despite being incredibly disoriented I seemed to be uninjured. “What are you doing here?” He helped me into a sitting position, checking the back of my head for any cracks or cuts. “Better yet, why are you here? I don’t think it’s your turn to visit my parents’ gravesite-”
“Got worried when you weren’t home at your usual time-” He admitted, brushing my hair from my forehead, “and then I interrogated your brother until he found your car parked out here, so I came to look and…” Charlie felt he was guilty of something and I had to stop that misery right then and there.
“I should have texted, love. I’m sorry for worrying you.” I cupped his jaw and smiled, letting him know that he did no wrong in my eyes. “What do you say to a stroll? Maybe get some of that shite coffee from the stand just down the road.”
“I’d like that.” Charlie leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before whispering, “Let’s get off the floor of your family’s crypt. I don’t think they’d appreciate my presence for much longer.”
“I wouldn’t assume they mind.”
We couldn’t help the shared laugh between us as I sat up, dusting myself off. The whole situation was honestly ridiculous, but so goes our life together, nothing was ever ‘normal’ and I think I would lose my mind if it were so (I believe Charlie would feel the same, especially after living with me for the past couple decades). And for this day, I had Muffin to thank (or maybe his bear, Orso). So thank you, son, for helping me reach some kind of peace.
“Speaking of.” I later realised that I hadn’t said a single thing aloud, and was instead narrating in my own head. “Where’s the little lad?”
“Chris let himself in around noon and stole one of your ties. And when he came to drop it off, I was already in a tizzy so he offered to watch Muffin until I could find your pale arse.”
“He stole my tie?”
“He insisted that it was important, so I just let him pilfer the closet.” Charlie shrugged, looping his arm in mine.
Before I could wrack my brain for a logical explanation for much longer, I shook the thought from my mind and just settled to quietly chuckle. “That man lives in his own world.”
“Oh but we love him though,” He smiled up at me, beautiful dimples and freckles on full show. “He’s almost as ridiculous as another man I know.”
“Rudy?” I ‘obliviously’ asked, earning an elbow to the side.
“You’re worse than he is sometimes!”
He tugged me down to his height and drew me into a kiss, making me mumble against his lips, smiling, “God I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Until next time, dear readers.