Work Text:
The blue eyes of Jack Kline fluttered open, taking in the early morning light. The nephilim groaned and shoved their face into their pillow for a moment, cherishing the feeling of the soft fabric against their face. Maybe just five more minutes. Or maybe not. They had an important task to get to, after all. There was no time to waste.
With a yawn and a stretch, the young half-angel got out of bed and took a look at their small, lean form in the mirror. Their red shorts just peeked out from under their oversized, white tee shirt. They made sure their bedroom door was completely closed before changing into a Led Zeppelin tee, a pair of overall shorts, basketball socks, converse, and, to top it all off, a long, yellow cardigan that hardly even hugged their shoulders. Perfect.
“Sam? Dean? Cas? I’m gonna go! I need to see someone!” they called to nobody in particular. With that, they opened the bunker door and began their trek to the nearest house, located just outside of the city.
As their shoes scraped against the gravel, they couldn’t help but wonder if he was the person they wanted to talk to first. Why would he be? Well, they knew how he had gone from being such a rotten creature to one who was trying his best. One that wanted to do good after years of being evil. And maybe that’s what Jack liked about him. He was always doing the best he could to improve, and Jack could look up to and admire that.
Jack sharply rapped their knuckles against the door and shifted on their heels until it swung open. “Hey!” They waved to the man inside the house.
“Heya, kiddo,” the man said with a chuckle. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair, rubbed at his stubbled chin, and shoved his hands into his ratty jean pockets.
“Good morning, Luci,” Jack greeted again as their father moved to let them inside. The house was small yet roomy, and was perfect for two, ignoring the fact that only one person lived there.
“So,” the archangel began, closing the door and making his way to the coffee machine, now steaming with the freshly brewed beverage. “What’s gotten you here so early?” He sat atop the table next to the machine and poured his coffee into a mug, flavoring it with sugar and cream.
“Uh, I wanted to tell you something, actually.” Jack began to nervously fiddle with their cardigan’s sleeves and they curled up into a ball on the nearest sofa, red and plush.
“What is it, Champ?” The older man leaned forward and hopped off of the counter to sit next to his child on the sofa, careful not to spill his steaming beverage.
“Well, this has been on my mind for a really long time,” Jack began with a sigh, sitting up and continuing to fiddle with their sleeves. It might not have been a long time in reality, given the fact that they were only three, but it felt like eons. This fact about themself had been trapped deep within, almost like rats were tearing away at them from the inside out. They shut their eyes tight, so much that they’d see stars. “I… to put it simply, I’m not a boy. I’m not a girl either, though. I’m non-binary.”
Jack opened their eyes, finally seeing those stars that fuzzed up their vision like static on those old-fashioned TVs. They could only just make out the outline of their biological father and his cup of steaming coffee and the image was fuzzed around the edges. They pressed their palms against their eyes and rubbed harshly at them to clear up their vision, expecting to see Lucifer in shock, fear, anger, or any other negative emotion that could ever exist.
But the angel remained calm, no anger. He wasn’t screaming or crying or throwing a fit. Instead, he simply smiled. “You’re non-binary, you said?” he questioned, a small smirk ghosting his lips.
“Y-Yes…?”
“Okay then.”
Jack cocked their head, much like Castiel would. Lucifer wasn’t upset. Not on the outside, at least. He was simply taking another sip of his coffee, the steam swirling around and flying up into the air around his partially chapped lips. “You’re not upset?”
“I don’t see why I should be,” he replied quickly. “Do you want me to use they/them pronouns for you?”
Jack’s eyes widened in pure, unfiltered shock and they remained speechless for a few moments before muttering, “Yes. Yes, that would be wonderful.”
“Alright. We’ll use they/them then, Sport.” Lucifer sat his mug down on the old coffee table and smiled warmly, watching as his child’s eyes welled up with tears threatening to spill out at any given moment. The young celestial being sprang forward, wrapping their arms around the archangel. Jack let out a large, broken sob, shaking slightly as they did so.
Jack never realized how comforting Lucifer’s presence was. Sure, he was the devil himself, but he was still an angel. And a powerful one, at that. They continued to cry loudly, melting into their father’s arms. He didn’t seem to mind Jack’s tears soaking his shirt. He simply rubbed their back and kissed their head, whispering a soft, “It’s okay, Jack. I accept you.”
Lucifer was a better person now. He began to love humanity and cared deeply for the animals that lived on Earth. He had managed to help out at a local shelter, now that he had learned a few tricks from Gabriel on how to communicate with humans properly. It was better that way. Crying in their father’s arms, they had that familiar gut feeling, one that told them that maybe, they could stay for a while and go home to the team in a few hours.
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, Jack.”
And maybe they didn’t need to come out to the team just yet. That could wait.