Chapter Text
Lucifer had to admit that he couldn't help the self-loathing he felt when Lilith left him.
By the "end" of their marriage, Lilith rarely spoke to him, and his darling daughter Charlie had practically cut off all contact.
He was utterly alone.
It got to the point where he would rather put up with Lilith mistreating him than suffer in this loneliness. It pressed in on him from all sides, and left him breathless.
He didn't know where Lilith disappeared. Frankly, he didn't even know where Charlie was. Did she go with Lilith? He hoped she was happy. He hoped that Lilith was treating her well.
He didn't know what he'd do if Lilith laid a finger on her.
It had all worked out, though!
He was reunited with his daughter, and, while he still had no idea where Lilith was, did he really care?
It was pure bliss to be with his daughter, but not be constantly walking on eggshells with Lilith. He could be with Charlie without the threat of injury.
It was better than Heaven. It was better than Hell.
He cracked his eyes open, taking a deep breath.
He was okay. Lilith wasn't here.
And, if she was true to her word, Charlie was still here. Of course, he understood if she had to go. She was extremely busy, what with her hotel. Her friends may have needed her assistance. There was just no telling.
Even if she had left, he was more than happy with their little tea time. Even though it had gone a bit off the rails.
He groaned, forcing himself up. He had rested, which, while it did wonders for him physically and mentally after his.... Display, it was unfathomably rude for him to have left his guest unattended. If she was still here.
Suddenly, he heard a shout down the hall.
His eyes grew wide, freezing in place.
Someone was coming. Down the hall.
They sounded furious.
His breathing picked up, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He stared at the door, eyes wide.
It slammed open.
He could barely process what he was seeing.
Lilith.
Lilith was here. Lilith was mad.
He couldn't breathe.
She stormed over to him, horns out. Her horns were a display of power. She only let them appear when she wanted to appear powerful.
It was working.
"YOU TOLD CHARLOTTE!?" She roared, fire coming out of the corners of her mouth in her fury. She grabbed his shoulders, her grip bruising.
He couldn't move. He couldn't speak.
He simply sat there, staring up at her dumbly.
This only seemed to infuriate her more. Before he could process what happened, there was a sharp pain on his cheek, his head snapping back. He looked up at Lilith, her hand clenched in a fist.
He remained silent.
Apparently, this was the wrong move. Even after thousands of years spent with this woman, he could never tell what the right thing to do would be. Sometimes he'd get it right, but more often than not, he'd choose incorrectly.
Silence could be taken as him being impolite or standoffish. Speaking could be taken as him back-talking or fighting. He never knew.
He knew she was hitting him. It was fast, though a bit sloppy in her fury. He couldn't process it.
He felt her grab a fistful of his feathers. It seemed he had taken them out instinctually. Good. That was good. One less reason for her to get mad at him.
She yanked out his feathers by the fistful. He could feel the blood soaking into the ones that remained attached to him.
He closed his eyes, simply breathing through it.
Suddenly, cold hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing.
He choked, struggling to breathe. He didn't try to pry the hands from his neck. He knew that was a death wish. He simply had to wait out his punishment, until she had grown tired of it. Not until he learned his lesson.
He never learned his lesson.
The hands were gone, he realized upon automatically taking in a large breath. He couldn't help but cough and sputter, trying desperately to regain his breath.
Distantly, he heard shouting. He couldn't focus.
He couldn't get enough air in his greedy lungs.
"Dad?"
He blinked, turning towards the source of the sound.
Charlie.
His head dropped back against his bed. He couldn't respond. She was blurry. His lungs continued to consume.
"Dad, it's okay. She's gone."
He gasped, desperately trying to regain his breath. No matter how much air he breathed in, it wasn't enough.
Something touched his hand.
He jerked, eyes snapping over to where the touch had come from, like a prey watching its predator.
It's just Charlie, reminded himself, taking in another large breath. She watched him, a small, reassuring smile on her face.
She didn't even look like her mother. Miraculously, she had taken after him almost completely. In a shameful way, it was such a relief. When he looked at her, he wasn't reminded of Lilith. She was nothing like her.
He felt himself begin to calm down. Just seeing his daughter soothed his nerves like nothing else could.
"Charlie, I... I don't know why she was here. I'm sorry." He apologized, attempting to sit up, but slipping on.... Something.
He looked down, finding a slick, golden liquid on his shaking hand.
His breath hitched, looking around wildly to find his bed was completely soaked in the liquid. His breath began to pick up, hand gripping at his hair.
"Dad, it's okay. It's alright." Charlie soothed, moving so she was in his line of sight. "The bleeding has about stopped. It's okay."
He nodded, taking in a steadying breath.
"Where is Lilith?" He shakily asked, gripping his bed sheets.
Charlie looked at him sadly. "She left, Dad. It's just us."
He sighed in relief, nodding.
"I'm so sorry you had to see that, Char Char." He quickly apologized, almost desperately. He couldn't stop the tremor in his voice. "No child should ever have to see their parents fighting."
He looked up at her, about to continue his apology, only to be met with her dumbfounded expression, quickly morphing into fury. Shit.
"Dad! That's not fighting!" She exclaimed, baring her teeth. He flinched back, curling in on himself. Perhaps he really had over-exaggerated the situation... "She brutalized you!"
He blinked, before looking up at her owlishly. "What?" He dumbly replied, unable to muster anything better.
Charlie took a breath, looking down at him with determination, and a spark of anger. "Dad, a fight is mutual. Two people are attacking each other. Mom came in here and beat you senseless. Literally senseless. You were out of it for a while."
He looked up at her, uncomprehending. She met his gaze desperately, eyes practically begging. Begging for what?
"Dad, I understand if Mom showing up just undid that work we did earlier, so I'm going to tell you again. She abused you." She declared.
That couldn't be right, though. People were abused, certainly. Men were abused by women, yes. But not the King of Hell. The ruler of Hell could not be abused.
His mind flashed back to cruel slaps, harsh kicks, degrading words. He was surrounded by angels, angels much larger and with much more authority and power than him. The verdict of "Guilty" rang in his ears, suffocating in its finality. The sharp, unbearable pain of his wings being torn to shreds-
He gasped, grip tightening. Tightening on what? What was he holding? Where was he? His face was wet. He was shaking. There was warmth in front of him.
He desperately pushed himself further into that warmth, desperate for safety. Safety from The Council. Safety from the angels. Safety from- from-
From Lilith.
Tears spilled from his eyes before he could do anything to stop it. The dam had been thoroughly destroyed.
Funny, in the movies when a character has some big revelation, they're screaming and sobbing and desperately grabbing onto whoever is comforting them, or whatever they can.
Lucifer just felt... Tired.
He was done with it all. He'd spent a millennia being abused by this woman, which he recoiled at the thought of. He supposed he knew, deep down, that what he simply considered "lovers' quarrels" was, in reality, Lilith abusing him. It didn't make the thought any easier to swallow.
The tears gently ran down his face, a steady stream, but not violent. He slumped against the warm pillar of support before him—Charlie. She simply rubbed his back, silent as he came to terms with the reality of his situation.
Could he truly be blamed for being too blind to see it? He had been treated that way for nearly his entire existence, long before Lilith had even been a thought.
And, well, when Lilith did come along, who could blame him for being desperate for any affection he could get? In Heaven, he had been looked down upon as stupid, childish, and an annoyance. He was punished accordingly for these sins.
Lilith punished him as well, yes, but she did something the angels never had. She comforted him. She stayed with him. She loved him.
...Though, was any of that really true? She had comforted him, yes, but... Looking back, she only really comforted him when she needed something from him. She ended up leaving him, even taking his daughter away with her, leaving him even lonelier than he was before. And if she loved him... Would she have put him through this? Would she have abused him? Taken away everything he had?
Perhaps, Lilith was crueler than Heaven had ever been.
His tears had long since stopped. His face was caked in the remnants of them.
Dazedly, he lifted his head from Charlie's shoulder, meeting her eyes.
She too had her own tear tracks, similarly dried to his. She looked at him with pride and understanding, her eyes glimmering with hope.
He gave her a small smile, nodding slightly, and averting his eyes downward. "You were right about her, Char." He acquiesced. "...I don't want to see her again."
Charlie's hands gently came to rest on his shoulders
He turned his head back up to look at her.
Her face was the poster of determination. "And you don't have to, Dad." She resolutely assured, pulling him back in for a hug. "She's not coming back."
His smile grew impossibly wider. His body somehow found it in itself to pump adrenaline through his veins. He vigorously nodded against her, burying his face into her shoulder, and tightening his grip around her.
She returned the favor, both of them embracing in understanding.
Charlie was here. Lilith wasn't coming back.
He'd never been happier.