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November 1993
“You must become the master of your own life, Number Four, or it will become the master of you.”
Number Four tried to hold onto that sentiment, to pretend for just a moment that this was about him learning and not his father’s sadism.
He had no idea how any of his siblings could pretend to be the dutiful children. He tried every day in training and studies, but the elegance of Three and Seven or skill of Two or brains of Five or anything was always out of reach.
“Help!” He tried one more time. “Please. I’ll be good. Please, can anybody help me!”
The voices of the damned echoed around him, some echoing in from blocks away. Four wondered how so many dead people ended up around the house. Maybe his father imported them just for him.
Maybe he made them himself on site.
“Lucifer…”
He flinched at the voice among the dead. The dead tended to be afraid or confused–especially as young as this girl sounded–but something was different. She seemed worried, but not for herself or where she was, but for him.
“Just put your hands together and call out for Lu, okay?”
Four tried to breath as he put his hands together. He didn’t know how his power worked. Maybe putting his hands together would trigger it like how ‘I heard a rumor’ triggered Three’s powers.
“Lucifer,” he began, and the ghosts seemed to cower a bit with the name. “Please help me. Help me out or with the ghosts or anything just please…make it stop. Please–”
A gust of wind blew through the mausoleum.
Four looked up. His eyes hadn’t fully adjusted back to the darkness since his father opened the door again half an hour ago, but he could vaguely make out a human form. Something moved behind the man, like Six putting away his tentacles
“Who are you?”
“I believe I’m the one who should be asking that?” the man said.
“I’m Number Four.”
“Number Four?” the man snickered. “What is your name?”
The kid blinked. “My name is Number Four.”
The snicker slowly fell. “No name, just a number?”
“Numbers can be names.”
“Agree to disagree,'' said the man, looking around and finally registering his surroundings. “Where are we? Almost looks like a mausoleum.”
Four nodded.
“That wasn’t a yes or no question, spawn.”
“You asked a question, made a guess, and got it right.”
He blinked. “What are you doing in a mausoleum?”
“Dad put me down here. He said I can’t come out until I can talk to the dead.”
“Your father put you in here?” the man said, “Cast you out to deal with the dead alone?”
Four nodded.
“Well, I have some good news for you,” the man kneeled down before the Four “Because I–”
“Am dead?” Four sniffled.
“Even better! I am an expert on the dead. Well, the guilty portion of them, anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I am the Devil,”--he held out his hand for the child– “Lucifer Morningstar.”
Four hesitated, but shook his hand.
“What’s ‘the Devil?’” Four said.
Lucifer laughed heartily before realizing Four was serious. “You…you honestly have no idea who I am?”
“Dad doesn’t let us out of the house much.”
“Surely you would have heard about the Devil from a misguided churchgoer or the tele.”
“Dad says that religion is a fool’s game, and we don’t have a TV–well, Dad has a TV in his office, but we’re not allowed in there.”
“In that case your father is truly irredeemable.”
Lucifer furrowed his brow. No names, no access to outside information, harsh punishments for disobedience or deviance.
“Are you in a cult?”
Four shrugged.
“Then tell me…what is it you truly desire?”
Klaus stuttered for a moment as he felt some primal force stir in his mind.
“To get a handle on my powers, so Dad will let me out of here and be proud of me.”
Lucifer sighed. “I understand the sentiment, but your father will never be proud of anybody but himself.”
“Then–then I want out.”
“Done,” Lucifer said, extending his hand. “Come with me and I can drop you off wherever in the world you like.”
Four snapped to grab his hand but stopped just shy of touching it. “What about my siblings?”
“Siblings?”
“I still want to have them.”
“What have they ever done for you?”
“Well, if it wasn’t for Seven, I would be the most hated child.”
“Dad,” he said under his breath. “Alright.”--he rose again, and Four was struck by exactly how tall he was– “I will be back tomorrow around breakfast. Have a bag prepared, and tell your siblings the same. I will take who wants to go. That sound like a fair deal?”
“No.”
“No?”
“What do you get out of it?”
“I get to live vicariously.” Lucifer grinned. “So what do you say? I rescue you, and you and your siblings are free to do as you wish together.”
Four grabbed his hand and shook.
Lucifer’s grin seemed to almost glow through the darkness. “Pack your bags; I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Four saw shapes emerge from behind his back. In a puff of wind, Four was alone again, but, this time, he didn’t seem to mind.
Reginald decided Four had been in the crypt long enough. Not because he learned anything but because he was missing too many days of training.
Four sat down in his seat at the table, shoving food in his mouth as fast as he could without getting reprimanded for his lack of manners, trying to block out that god forsaken climbing record that seemed so obsessed with.
He knew he just needed to hold on, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He didn’t even have his bags packed, but what did that matter? It was all Father’s stuff, not his. He would walk out that door now if he didn’t know Father would have an army after him in minutes.
He put his hands together like that ghost girl told him.
“Number Four!”
Four flinched.
“What are you doing?”
Four looked down at his hands. “One of the ghosts taught me to do it.”
“You shouldn’t believe in that religious hogwash given the proof against a merciful god you see everyday with your abilities.”
Four blinked. He knew better than to question Reginald in front of his siblings, but in his mind he screamed. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
There was a knock at the door.
Reginald scoffed. “Solicitors. Ignore it.”
The knocking became more insistent until being stopped by their front door clicking open.
Pogo’s modulated voice could be heard vaguely over the instructional record, chatting calmly but cautiously with whoever stood at the door.
“What is it you truly desire,” Four thought he heard.
A few moments later Lucifer entered the room. In the light, Four could see he was just as tall as he looked in the crypt. He wore an Armani suit with a royal purple tie and appeared to have as much if not more money than Mr. Hargreaves, and his eyes…
His eyes held a rage Four couldn’t even fathom, yet Four couldn’t find a reason to fear him.
“Reginald Hargreeves,” Lucifer said as he slipped off his suit jacket and adjusted his cuffs. “My sources tell me that you are not these children’s father.”
“Who are you?” Reginald demanded, rising from his space at the head of the table. “And what business do you have here?”
“I am Lucifer Morningstar, and I have been requested here.”
“Requested?” Reginald scoffed. “You most certainly were not.”
“Let’s see, if you’re Four…” Lucifer pointed at the Hargreaves children, counting off in a back and forth motion. “One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven. Did I get those all right?”
One rose from his spot on his father’s right and rounded to put himself between Reginald and Lucifer. Lucifer recognized the tactic from his own uprising, remembered how his siblings attempted to put themselves between him and father, knowing that they were not the ones he wished to hurt.
“It’s okay, One,” Four said, though he was unsure whether he was actually listening.
“It is in everybody’s best interest if–”
One punched Lucifer square in the jaw. Lucifer jerked his head sideways with the momentum. He paused for a moment to press the place of impact with his fingers.
“Huh,” Lucifer said with mild curiosity. “You actually managed to make a tender spot. Right on!”
One scrunched his face, befuddled. Lucifer took this chance to sidestep him, grab Reginald by the shirt, and lift him above his head so that his feet dangled around Lucifer’s knees.
“I heard a rumor you stopped hurting him!” Three yelled.
Lucifer stared down at her. “Is that truly what you want me to do?”
She froze. Sure, people had resisted her rumors before. When she was young and had to practice on her nannies, they would fight it, completing tasks with tense muscles and unbridled fear in their eyes, but no one had ever brushed a rumor off like that.
“Tell me, child,” Lucifer grinned. “What is it you truly desire?”
“To be loved by someone,” she said, not even realizing that was what she wanted before it left her mouth.
Lucifer smiled before turning back to Reginald. “You are lucky my Father doesn’t permit us to kill humans”
Without giving Reginald any time to respond, he threw him across the room and into a cabinet. Glass and wood shattered around his form as the trophies and curios of his travels crashed onto each other, leaving a pile of unrecognizable debris. The children watched and waited for him to get up, to demand they remember their training and charge full force at the assailant, but he just laid there, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only sign he still lived.
“Now, children,” Lucifer put his hands together. “I admit it has been eons since I answered a prayer, but I believe it would be best if I got you away from here before your father wakes and calls his harem of lawyers.”
Lucifer sauntered away, but the Hargeeves siblings continued to stand there, staring.
He poked his head back in. “Come on, Four. I told you to pack a bag, so you at least should be ready to go.”
“You brought him here,” One snapped.
“This is our chance, One,” Four yelled back. “I am not going back to that crypt.”
“W-w-we n-n-n-need–”
“Two’s right,” the Seven said. “We need to bring Mom and Pogo with us.”
“Actually,” Lucifer turned to find the ape that greeted him at the door, clad in a suit that rivaled his own, at the doorway. “I don’t believe it is my place to go.”
“I was meaning to ask, but when did my Father create talking monkeys?”
“A lab created me, not any higher power.” The ape grinned. “And Children, I believe that now is an opportunity.”
“You don’t honestly think we should go with him?” One said.
“I do,” Pogo replied. “I have been complicit in Sir Reginald’s plan for too long, blinded by all he did for me over the years. Children, go with Mr. Morningstar. Find a home, a life beyond this place.”
“Pogo,” Seven said, tears welling in her eyes.
“I will stay. When the police arrive, I will tell them everything that has occurred in this house, and you will never have to worry again. If I can follow, I will follow, but I don’t want any of you worrying about me.” He turned his head to shout into the hall. “Grace! The children are going on a long term mission. Could you help me grab their birth certificates and paperwork?”
“Right away, Pogo.”
Heels, presumably those of a woman called Grace, clicked their way down the hall then up the stairs. Pogo turned back to the children. “I’ll be able to stall her for a few minutes. You best be gone before I come downstairs again.”
Pogo gave one last look at the children before going to follow Grace.
“Tragic,” Lucifer deadpanned as he turned back to the kids. “I cannot stress this enough. I don’t know how long Reginald will be out, so pack your bags.”
All the children bolted out of the room and Lucifer sighed in relief. This may not be going as smoothly as he anticipated, but he would be out of here in a few minutes.
A laughter echoed through the room. Lucifer looked over to see Five leaning back in his chair, feet on the table, laughing at the whole situation. Beside him, hands in his lap, sat Six
“You honestly expect me to believe this?” Five said with a smirk.
“I beg your pardon?”
Five looked over at Six. “You all know what this is, too, don’t you? It’s a test of loyalty.”
Lucifer set his jaw. “What is it you truly desire?”
“To time travel back and kill Reginald before he was born,” Five said without hesitation. “You don’t need your mind powers to draw that out of me.”
“I won’t make you go,” Lucifer said calmly. “My big thing is free will for all humanity. You, Six–any of you can stay.”
“I’m going,” Six said quietly.
Five eyed his brother. “Then what are you doing here?”
“I don’t have anything I want to take with me.”
“Got them!” All turned to see Seven entering the room with a pillowcase in one hand and a violin case in the other.
“I told you to back, spawn,” Lucifer snapped.
Seven looked at what she held. “I have my meds, my toothbrush, and my violin and bow.”
“What about your clothes?” Lucifer said.
“I don’t like my clothes.” Seven said.
“Got my kn-n-n-ives,” Two said as he entered the room, followed by One and Three. All of them wore domino masks.
“What’s with the masks?”
“We told Mom we’re going on a mission,” Three said. “If we aren’t wearing them, she’ll think we’re sneaking out and try to stop us. We grabbed you guys’, too.” She tossed domino masks to Five and Six.
“Well, let's hope Four at least has some sense when it comes to–”
Four came running into the room, arms filled with antique valuables ranging from a diamond encrusted box under his pit to a medieval mace.
“Come on, guys. Take shit! We’re going on the run, anyway.”
“Alright, just grab anything, then!” Lucifer yelled. “Then out and to the limo, all of you.”
“Race you!” Four yelled.
All but Five rushed out the door.
“Last chance.”
Five smirked and said “I’m just giving them a head start” before disappearing in a flash of blue.
“Names!” Lucifer said once the private jet reached cruising altitude. “As someone who chose his own name, I can tell you that this–along with rebellion–is the most crucial part of distancing yourself from a deadbeat dad.”
“We have names,” said One.
“Numbers are not names,” Lucifer said.
“What if I want my name to be Five?” Five said, crossing his arms and snickering.
“Then you can teleport off this plane right now,” Lucifer snapped.
Five moved abruptly in his chair. His siblings all grabbed for their seatbelts and moved to leap towards him.
Five scoffed. “How dumb do you think I am?”
“Screw you,” said Two.
“What could you have done to stop me? Throw a knife?”
“Knife throwing. Mmm. You will get along with Mazikeen well.”
One eyed Lucifer for a moment. “Is that your…partner?”
He shrugged. “From time to time.”
One didn’t know what to make of that.
“Since you are One, care to lead your siblings into independence?”
One crossed his arms. “I just came to keep them safe. We’ll be back with Dad and back to business in a few months.”
Lucifer nodded. “Reverse order then.” He looked around the room for a second. “You’re Seven, right?”
Seven tensed at the sudden attention.
“What’s your name?”
“I…I don’t need a name.”
“Needing and wanting are two different things, Dear.” He leaned in “Tell me, what is it you truly desire?”
Seven’s lip quivered for a moment, as though she was trying to resist his pull. “To finally be comfortable in my skin, and know who I am.”
“If you aren’t living as yourself, then you’re a liar, and there’s nothing I could hate more than a liar. I ask again: what is your name?”
“V-Vanya.”
“Are you sure?”
She swallowed.
“You’ve called yourself something before, haven’t you?”
She shifted. “We all have. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything, child. Who you are in private may be your truest self. One more time, your name, what is it?”
“Viktor,” Seven said under her breath.
“Yes!’ Lucifer smiled. “Viktor! A perfect name. Victory over your father, over life, over everything.”
“And like Viktor Tretiakov, the violinist. I play. It’s the one thing I’m good at, I think.”
“I’m more of a piano man myself, despite the song about my alleged trip to Georgia may indicate, but I am sure, with a proper tutor, you could be better than Niccolò Paganini.”
Viktor stared up at Lucifer, wide eyes welling with tears, and, for a moment, Lucifer understood how his Father must have felt after creating Amenadiel.
“I’ll need to get you to my tailor,” he said. He saw Viktor relax his shoulders, perhaps for the first time in his life, and knew then that he couldn’t let this one go.
He broke away. He still had six other children he would have to deal with.
“You, of course, don’t have to know what to call yourselves now. Feel free to brainstorm on the flight to L.A.”
“We’re going to L.A.?” Three said with excitement.
Lucifer blinked. “I didn’t tell you where we were going, and you got on a plane with me anyway?”
She shrugged.
Lucifer rubbed the bridge of his nose. This would be a long flight.
When the plane landed, all but Five and One had their names.
“Would you like to share why you still want to be called a number?”
“It’s a manipulation tactic,” Five spat. “You take us in, you give us names, but the moment we’re comfortable you’ll do exactly what Reginald did and make us your soldiers. Only now, we’re loyal to you.”
Lucifer nodded before turning to One. “And you?”
“It’s what Dad calls us.” One said.
Lucifer sighed. “Well, you can both change your minds at any time.”
“Now, spawns,” Lucifer said as the children rested in the sitting room of one of the finest hotels in L.A. While he would’ve purchased the finest accommodations for himself on any excursion to earth, today he actually needed the suit due to its half a dozen beds. “This is just a temporary arrangement while I figure out where to put you. I know, I know, but however pleasant you may seem, seven children does not align with my plans of lasciviousness— assuming my brother even allows me to stay up topside when he learns of my interference.”
“Topside?” One asked.
“On Earth.”
“So you mean to tell us you’re an alien?” Five said.
“Angel, actually.”
“What’s an angel?” Allison asked.
“Aside from me, they’re a bunch of pretentious assholes who do nothing but look down on humanity. However, if anyone mentions them, assume they’re referring to beings of absolute good.”
“You don’t have to tell us about controlling the narrative, Lucifer.” Viktor said as he sat down on the couch and tucked his arms and legs into the blanket “After all, the papers say that Reginald is an eccentric but otherwise decent guy.”
Lucifer hung his head for a moment, hit once again by how bad this bunch had had it. “Yes, I suppose it does, doesn’t it?”
“If they’re such assholes, then why do people even keep them around?” Five asked.
“They’re all up in the Silver City, and anyone who gets there obviously loves them. As for why they’re so well liked, it’s because of a gross misinterpretation of events.”
Lucifer watched as the spawns all took spots on the couch and floor, looking up at Lucifer expectantly.
Lucifer couldn’t remember the last time someone wanted his side of the story.
Lucifer sat down on the table so that all could see him. “Well, I suppose I should start from the beginning. In the beginning, there was only my father and my mother: God and Goddess.”
The Hargreaves children all gathered around, rapt in attention at the first story they’d heard that wasn’t a blatant boast or drab literature to analyze. One by one, each of the Hargreaves children drifted off to sleep on the sofa and floor.
“You did the right thing getting them out of the situation,” said Carol, the CPS woman. She was a lithe blonde woman in a navy pantsuit that was disheveled enough to make her seem both approachable and professional. “While taking them across state lines does get into a more dubious area of the law.”
“Which is exactly why I called the moment I could assure the children were safe.”
“That is exactly why we exist,” she said with a smile.
“Perfect,” Lucifer clapped. “The little urchins are in the 14th floor suite. We can grab them, and they can be off to their new home.”
“Yes, while going into foster care is always a hard experience, it is for the best in situations like these.”
“I had a rough experience with my own father. Too many siblings, blatant favoritism, you’ve probably seen a dozen stories like mine.”
“Seeing them split up must be especially hard for you then.”
“Yes, well,” Lucifer stopped just short of the elevator. “I’m sorry. What was that about them being split up?”
“Foster homes have a maximum of five children, including the foster parent’s own children. What’s most likely going to happen is a split of three-two-two, though the courts may want to place Viktor in a house specializing in LGBT youth.”
Lucifer chuckled. “There must be an option for an exception. I can sponsor some house they could all go to.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Morningstar. We’re a government agency, not a charity.”
“I get that but…I had an opportunity to grab Klaus and go, but he refused to take it if it meant leaving behind his siblings. I told him he would get to grow up with his siblings and shook on it–and I do not renege on deals.”
Carol went silent for a moment, but Lucifer could tell it was with heartbreak and not consideration.
Lucifer couldn’t understand the feeling coming over him. This was meant to be a simple deal. Get some kids out of an exploitative situation then revel in debauchery until Amenediel caught him. He shouldn’t be so concerned, so attached after less than a day with the urchins.
“What about adoption?”
“I have seen a lot of cases, and the fact is that fewer than 10% of teenagers get adopted.”
“I meant me.”
“That is not a good idea.”
“If you don’t want them together, then what is your purpose?” he snapped.
Carol’s demeanor shifted. “I am here to keep the children safe, to ensure that they get to grow up with safety and normalcy.”
“I can do that,” Lucifer said with an almost believable smile. “I wear Armani suits and drive a Corvette, so I can obviously afford a couple nannies.”
“Being a parent goes beyond that. A nanny offers child care and may be considered part of the family, but they are still there because they’re getting paid. The care they give is not a replacement for parental care and guidance, and, frankly, what I’ve seen today doesn’t exactly make me think you’re a good influence.”
“I could be a good influence on the children.”
“Sir…do you actually own a house?”
Lucifer hesitated. “I’ve never been anywhere long enough to need one.”
“Sir, children need stability. I appreciate the sentiment, but adoption is a long and arduous process, and, right now, you wouldn’t even pass the home evaluation.”
Lucifer pulled out his phone.
“Sir, what are you–”
“What if I had a character witness?”
“Character witnesses can help, but who are calling?”
Lucifer brought the phone to his ear. “A former governor.” “A former governor?”
“Don’t want to call the current one. I might need that favor later if taking them across state lines becomes an issue.”
“I still need to take them for the time being.”
Lucifer smiled. “Sorry to waste your time, but I guarantee that they won’t be there for more than a week.”
Five was a runner, disappearing with Ben and Viktor from the back of the car on the way to their foster home, and it wasn’t until the media was obsessing over the shocking truth of Reginald Hargreaves that he reappeared.
The others didn’t bode much better. Klaus would wake up screaming from the ghosts and take almost half an hour to be comforted to sleep. One was defensive and refused to listen to even his siblings. Diego threw a knife at One for being so pompous and ended up leaving a hole in the house’s drywall. Allison “asked” for a credit card and went to explore L.A.
When Lucifer Morningstar, well connected with old money, came swooping in with money in all the right places, the state was happy to be rid of them.
(He almost wished it hadn’t been that easy to begin with. Then maybe Reginald couldn’t have used the same method to get them in the first place.)
“Right!” Lucifer said as they entered the penthouse he had purchased fully furnished. “Sorry about the false start, but this is where you will be staying the next few years.”
“Kicking us out for our 18th birthday?” Five scoffed. “Of course you are.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be here in five years. You are welcome to call me wherever I am.”
“There are phones in Hell?” he said.
“I’m not going back to Hell,” Lucifer said as he took in what he’d actually purchased. He would have to take his personal effects out of storage (and maybe a museum or two) to make it his own, but the penthouse allowed him to have his area with the spawn’s rooms down the hall with its own common area.
“You’re staying here to raise us?” Viktor said smally but hopefully.
“No, I’m staying on Earth for me, but you have given me the excuse to buy a house rather than hotel hop. Now shoo and claim your rooms.”
The children went running, but Viktor stayed behind.
“You’re going to end up with the smallest room, you know.”
Viktor looked at his feet for a moment. Viktor likely mastered the art of hiding their face with their hair in their previous life, but the buzz cut made that impossible now.
Viktor slowly put out his arms and walked towards Lucifer. Lucifer froze as Viktor wrapped his arms around Lucifer, almost too light for him to feel.
“Thank you,” Viktor whispered, and Lucifer felt that same gushing feeling he did on the plane.
“One tells me that he finally decided on a name now that this looks like a permanent thing.”
“Yes. He settled on the name Luther,” Lucifer grinned, still looking at his book to create an air on nonchalance as Five spoke. “Thank Dad. I heard from your sister that it was between that and Gunther, and I was seriously reconsidering my ‘humans should make their own choices’ rule.”
“I decided on a name.”
Lucifer put his book aside. “I am all ears.”
“I’m not telling you,” Five said, crossing his arms and not completely looking at Lucifer. “I just want you to know that I chose one and you can’t know it.”
Lucifer smiled, glad he decided to keep Five.
February 1994
It could have been a wonderfully drunken evening of pleasant debauchery at his new nightclub had it not been for another one of his brother’s celestial interruptions.
“Brother,” Amenadiel said as he followed behind Lucifer through the night club crowd. “I allowed you to have this den of sin for the past few months to placate you, but Father has begun to take notice. In you, in your little cabal–”
“Cabal,” Lucifer grinned, grabbing a scotch the bartender made when he saw him coming. “Well, if a group of twelve year old septuplets counts as a Cabal, then wait until Father hears about the disciples.”
“You can’t hide your guiltiness with humor, Luci.”
“Guilt? I have no guilt about rescuing the urchins. Six years to get them out of the house is a blip in my eternal existence. You know what? Knowing dear ol’ Dad doesn’t approve makes me like them more. Who knows, maybe we can form a real cabal, maybe even get matching tattoos if we can find a mortal needle that can pierce me.”
Amenadiel closed the gap between himself and Lucifer. “You will return to Hell by the end of this week.”
“I can’t. Don’t you understand that?”
“I don’t see why not,” Amenadiel scoffed. “Your wings work just fine.”
Lucifer attempted to contort his arms around his back to rub some salve on the cauterized wounds. He had no idea how well the stuff would work on his celestial form, but anything was worth a go at this point.
“Luce?”
He froze. Allison. Of course it would be Allison. She and Klaus were the only ones who ever came into his room, and that was mostly to steal his clothes and call it borrowing.
“What is it girl,” he said, double checking that the door was locked.
“The boys are hogging the restrooms. Can I shower in yours?”
“Clearly ocupado.”
Lucifer heard the bed shift as Allison sat down on it. Despite being almost half a year since escaping that place, the children still kept to a nigh military schedule. The only thing that had actually changed is that they now showered and bathed at their own pace rather than scrubbing down in two efficient minutes.
He sighed and grabbed his robe. “I’ll be out in a–agh!”
“Lucifer!”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Just pulled wrong.” He closed his robe and made to slip past Allison. “Have a wonderful–”
Allison grabbed for his hand and ended up with her hand around his wrist, pulling at his robe sleeve. Lucifer winced at the rubbing of fabric on his wounds.
“You’re not okay.” Allison said. “Let me help you.”
Lucifer grimaced. “Truly, no need to–”
“You told us you never lie!”
Lucifer stood petrified for a moment. She was right. He’d prided himself on always telling the truth, ardently fighting the image as the Deceiver and Prince of Lies.
But he couldn’t impose this on someone so young.
She sighed and let go. “I shouldn’t let all that hero training still get to me.”
“No, no,” Lucifer waved a hand “I…I supposed you’ve experienced more graphic things than this because of Reginald.
Slowly, he turned away from Allison and let his robe drop so that his back was laid bare.
He expected a gasp or maybe even a scream, but nothing ever came.
Allison’s hands hovered above his wounds, tickling the fine hairs on his back. She swallowed. “I heard a rumor that it didn't hurt so much.”
The world distorted around Lucifer’s ears but nothing changed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but this is my mark to bear.”
“Did your father take your wings because you helped us?”
Lucifer chuckled. “No, child. I…you could say I gave up my wings.”
“You gave them up?” Allison said. She knew he only ever told the truth, but with how immaculately groomed he kept them, it didn’t sound believable.
“No wings, no Hell,” he said simply. “Not like I need to fly across the world for dinner or suits with all the options in L.A.”
Allison nodded weakly.
“Cheer up, Alli. This just means more guaranteed years of me.” Lucifer grabbed the robe and turned to go back into the restroom to escape the conversation, only to have Allison follow.
“Sorry, Allison. While I normally welcome guests in here, I do have an age requirement.”
Allison stayed quiet and grabbed the burn cream that still rested on the counter.
Lucifer sighed and turned around. As it felt Allison’s slim fingers gloss globs of relief over his flayed parts, he couldn’t help but wonder how these children managed to wrap him around their fingers.
March 1994
“Mr. Morningstar,” Principal Jeffers said from across her desk.
“The one and only,” he said, one leg resting on his other knee as he sat back in his chair.
“I understand that their circumstances are difficult. Switching schools midyear is difficult on any child, having to go through foster care and adoption only adds to that, but I do believe that it is your job as their legal guardian to put them on the right path.”
“I’m letting them discover who they are. I believe that’s the best any parent can do.”
“It is when ‘learning who they are’ doesn’t involve Diego getting into fights and Klaus being caught smoking the devil’s lettuce.”
Lucifer snickered, eliciting a scornful look from Jeffers.
“Sorry. ‘Devil's lettuce’ always gets to me.”
Jeffers rolled her eyes. “Mr. Morningstar, the fact is that, if things continue down the route they are now, only half of your children will graduate.”
Lucifer felt a twinge of fear in his chest but repressed it. Sure, the kids were living with him, but it’s not like he was their father. They didn’t exactly sit down for family dinners and whatnot.
“Lucifer,” Jeffers said, and he could tell using his real name made her uncomfortable. “These children may have come from a traumatic place, but I don’t believe their trauma should define them. I will avoid calling the police this once on the condition that your children see a counselor.”
Lucifer scoffed. “Therapy?”
“Whatever your belief on counseling is, I am giving you an ultimatum. Therapy or juvie.”
July 1994
Lucifer called in the right favors to ensure a closed court. The last thing the urchins needed was a hundred microphones shoved in their faces at whatever the verdict was. Instead he, always prepared for any outcome, had both champagne and scotch in his limo outside. He could hope Reginald would get life without parole, but that Robert Kardashian put forward a great argument: he was strict, but only to foster their potential, and he never laid a finger on any of them.
(That didn’t mean the children weren’t scarred in other ways. As though having numbers and not names meant nothing.)
Each of the urchins had been interviewed by kindly officers over the course of several days, ecruing 5-7 hours of stories and answers each.
He watched as Reginald and his lawyer were brought in, each wearing a nice suit, followed by Pogo and his attorney that Lucifer had found him at the urchins’ insistence.
Pogo being here today was a formality more than anything. He’d accepted the plea deal. Testify against Reginald, and receive minimum sentencing on 7 accounts of kidnapping.
14 years.
“All rise,” the bailiff said as the Hon. Judge Tucker entered the room. 4 judges had to recuse themselves from the case because, well, everyone knows the old joke about the Devil and lawyers.
Lucifer and the seven urchins sat along with the rest of the rest of the courtroom as the judge perched himself at the stand and began the legal rigmarole leading up to the verdict.
Lucifer paid little mind to it. Whatever the judge said, Lucifer could ensure just punishment.
“We the people of the jury find Reginald Hargreeves guilty on all accounts.”
The judge nodded and examined Reginald for only a moment. “Based on the accounts heard over the course of this trial, it is my opinion that the defendant is not only an unfit parent but an apathetic man with a history of violence. For this reason I will be imposing the maximum sentencing for child trafficking including the coercion of mothers, child abuse, but by providing the robot known as Mom to caretake the children, I do not see enough evidence to give anything above the minimum sentencing for child neglect. Therefore, I hereby sentence Reginald Hargreeves to 70 years in federal prison. This court is adjourned.”
Lucifer and the urchins let out a collective breath. Without fully registering what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around the nearest kid, Viktor, and did an awkward almost-hug.
Viktor was tearing up. It was over. Sure, the eight of them thought it was over almost a year ago, but none of them had any idea of the weight they carried around at the mere idea that Reginald could get off scot free.
Lucifer watched as an officer led Reginald out of the courtroom via the door in the back.
Lucifer rose. The path would bring Reginald by the children, and there was no way of knowing what final blow he had in store.
Reginald stopped next to the man who had barged in and stolen his Umbrella Academy all those months ago and looked straight past him.
“You six children,”--Reginald looked Viktor in the eyes as he said six– “Have made the unkindest cut upon me, the man who raised and encouraged you your entire lives. If this is how you treat your own father,” He directed his attention to Lucifer “then I pity you, Lucifer. I await the day you realize that the world is better off with the Umbrella Academy as it was.”
Lucifer scanned the urchins idly before turning his attention back to Reginald. “I don’t pity you at all.”
September 1994
When Ben went running down the hall to his bedroom and slammed the door, Lucifer sighed. While the children mostly took care of themselves, having their own separate card for UberEats or whatever restaurant they wished to partake in that night and keeping their own areas clean, Lucifer understood that times like these were still his job.
He made his way down the hall and knocked on Ben’s door.
“Go away.” He yelled.
“That knock was a courtesy,” Lucifer said as he opened the door to find Ben laying on his bed on the brink of tears.
Lucifer walked over and sat on Ben’s bed. “What happened at school today?”
“Nothing.”
“You know how I feel about lies.”
Ben looked at the wall.
Lucifer sighed. “Tell me, Ben, what is it you desire?”
Ben’s lip quivered for a moment as the answer flowed out of him. “I want to be normal.”
“How dull.”
“Not like that,” Ben said. “My siblings aren’t normal, but they still have normal powers.”
“Normal powers,” Lucifer snickered. “As opposed to what? Spitting acid? Summoning a murder of crows?”
“As opposed to…” Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Klaus jokingly called them ‘The Bentacles’ today, and I guess I just realized that I can escape Reginald and the Academy, but I can’t ever escape them.”
“Sorry, did you say ‘Bentacles?’” Lucifer knew the kids had powers, but he never pried about what they each did. They just gradually revealed themselves over the months. If he was being honest, he hadn’t realized Ben’s lack of power displays.
Ben sighed. Lucifer saw something squirming around under Ben’s shirt then, without warning, five tentacles erupted from his stomach, each as thick as a log and over twice the length of Ben.
“That it?” Lucifer said, keeping his voice steady. He knew the only reason he could stay so calm is because he’d seen things like this before, but never outside of Hell.
“I could bring them out more if I thought about it,” Ben said, leaning back so that the tentacles could snake back in. “But it hurts to have them out and…I don’t like what they make me do.”
Lucifer watched as the tips of the tentacles retreated under Ben’s shirt and nodded. “Looks like you keep your tentacles in their own pocket dimension like I do my wings. Truly a feat for an earthly being.”
“I can feel them moving around in there.” Ben said.
Lucifer tried waiting for him to fill the silence on his own before deciding to speak.
“So you got Cthulhu in your chest, I still don’t see the problem.”
“Don’t see the problem? I’m a monster,” Ben cried out, tears beginning to roll down his face. “I’m a monster and I’m going to hurt myself and my siblings and you and I can’t even ask Jennifer to homecoming because these things knot themselves up and remind me of what I am every time I get near her.”
“I think that last one is just cowardice.”
Ben put his head in his hands.
“What? Just ask the girl. If she says no, someone else will come along later.”
“People only work that way for you, Lucifer,” Ben said, muffled by his hands. “The Umbrella Academy debut was just me wishing I could go home while my siblings beat up bank robbers.”
Lucifer thought for a moment. He’d dealt with people with anxiety and self-loathing. If he was being honest, those categories made up some of his best nights– but those nights only happened after he made them feel like they were the most incredible person in the world.
He couldn’t do that with Ben, though. He knew the little spawn well enough to know he would never accept any affirmation he didn’t already believe.
“If I show you something, do you promise not to tell your siblings?”
Ben looked up at Lucifer.
“This is something that I seldom show humans, and, when I do, I typically do it to strike fear into their hearts,” he took a deep breath. “But I am willing to show you because I want you to know that it’s okay that you're a monster…because I am a far worse monster than you could ever be.”
Ben blinked a few times. “Can I know what it is first?”
“My true face. My devil face.”
Ben swallowed. “You can show me.”
Lucifer relaxed and let his true face free with the same ease as releasing his wings. He kept his eyes closed, unable to bring himself to see Ben’s disgust. After a few seconds, he tucked the face away again and opened his eyes, not looking at Ben.
“So yeah,” Lucifer said. “That’s what I actually look like.”
“Can…can you show me again?”
Lucifer shot his gaze over to Ben. “Excuse me?”
“Only if you want to.”
Lucifer blinked. His face wasn’t something that people wanted to see; it was something they pleaded with his father to forget.
“I didn’t get a good look at it is all.”
Lucifer sat up straight and let the glamor drop again, but this time, he took the opportunity to study Ben’s expressions. Ben was taking the time to study every malformed bump and divot, leaning around to see from every angle.
“You have the same nose,” he said under his breath.
“I haven’t taken the time to notice.”
“Holy shit, your teeth,” Ben said, excitement in his voice.
“What about my teeth?” Lucifer said, suddenly finding himself self conscious about his teeth and not his singed skin and red eyes.
Lucifer flinched as Ben reached out to touch.
“Sorry,” he put his hand away.
Lucifer shoved his face back into the pocket dimension to stay for another eternity or two. “Well…consent is key, look don’t touch, and all that stuff.”
“I can see why you wouldn’t like it,” Ben said, “But I think it looks cool.”
“Well, I’d take your tentacles over my face any day. It’s not like that mug can let me reach something far away like your extra limbs.”
“Yeah, but you could turn heads at Halloween parties with that.”
“I turn heads at every party, Ben.”
January 9, 1995
Luther threw down his backpack then plopped down on the couch next to Lucifer, a look of inexplicable clarity Lucifer had only seen in people who had just received Revelation from his father and those experiencing the perfect shroom trip.
Lucifer sighed, paused whatever police procedural he’s been watching, and turned to Luther.
“Something you’d like to share with the class?”
“I have met the love of my life today.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat.”
“Her name is Sloan. She and her parents moved here over the break. He’s with some plane company—not important—she’s the most incredible girl I’ve ever met.”
“What’s her last name?”
Luther thought for a moment. “I don’t know.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“We just have history together, but she’s seeing if they’ll let her into the cheer team since she cheered at her last school, so I’ll probably see her at football games this year.”
Lucifer ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to crush your dreams, but I will not lie: you might be rushing into things.”
Luther shot up. “What do you know about love? You have a different person in bed every week if not more.”
Luther went to storm off before turning back and grabbing his backpack and ruining the effect.
January 11, 1995
“—and then she told me”—Luther sniffed roughly— “that she told her parents the good news, and they said she couldn’t date until she was sixteen.”
“There there, little urchin,” Lucifer said as Luther’s snot and tears stained the cushions of his Capellini couch, fighting not to say ‘I told you so.’
Luther rolled into his back, exposing his puffy cheeks to Lucifer. “We love each other and we just have to sit there in class and pretend nothing’s wrong every day.”
Lucifer stroked his shoulder. “There are plenty of women out there you can date in the meantime.”
“I’m not like you, Lucifer. I can’t be happy with just anybody.” Luther shot upright. “Maybe we could see each other secretly.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not!”
“Because you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”
He slumped into his hands. “My life is ruined.”
“When’s her birthday?”
Luther thought for a moment.
“Of course you don’t know.”
October 1, 1998
Lucifer’s birthday gifts to his little urchins were practical ones this year.
Luther wished to box professionally, and Allison wished to act professionally, so he got them each a good agent. Viktor got an audition at the Los Angeles Philharmonic.
Five was shoo-in for MIT with his letter of recommendation, Ben would be attending CalTech to do something in entertainment (or comics, he hadn’t decided yet), and neither would have to worry about tuition.
Diego would be attending the police academy, so he received the first year’s rent of his first apartment near the station.
Klaus had less drive than his siblings, so he got the same deal as Diego on the contingency that he figured out what he wanted to do.
The five years were up. Lucifer’s end of the deal was done, and he could now delve into depravity on earth as was always intended…
Well, after they graduated, of course. He wouldn’t dream of kicking the septuplets out of the house. He wasn’t his father, after all.
Lucifer sat on the balcony overlooking the view of L.A. Some days, he did wish he had his wings back so he could get a different angle of the city, but, if given the same unspoken deal again, he would cut them off again without hesitation.
Lucifer took a sip of his brandy and listened to Viktor’s footsteps as he approached as passed into his line of sight to reveal he was wearing a blood red tie that Lucifer recognized as part of the first suit ensemble he’d ever been given. It sharply contrasted with the baggy shirt that hid the shape of his chest.
(Lucifer looked forward to seeing Viktor in a proper set of clothes, sans binder, with the help of a bonus birthday gift of a top surgery scheduled for three weeks.)
“Hey, Luce, do you have a minute?”
“Several,” Lucifer said, taking another sip.
Viktor took a deep breath and avoided eye contact for a few seconds.
“Come on, boy! Spit it out.”
“I would like permission to legally change my name.” He sputtered out.
Lucifer took a long swig of his bourbon and sighed. “Viktor not living up to your expectations?”
He shook his head. “It’s not—“
“You’re 18. You don’t need my permission to change it.”
“I know, I know, but… I want to be Viktor Morningstar.”
Lucifer nearly shattered his glass as he flinched but managed to reign in his celestial strength last minute.
“W-why would you ever want to do that?”
“Because… I know you let us all keep Hargeaves because that’s what we were, the Hargreaves, but Reginald isn’t my dad, so why should I have his last name?”
Lucifer nodded absently, noting how he deliberately danced around the implication that Lucifer had replaced him on that podium.
“If that is your choice, then I will see about a lawyer to help you in the process.”
“Sorry, did you not change your name legally?”
“No, I told the state you had no birth certificate and paid a guy to ‘find’ your records, but you’re a real person now, meaning arduous paperwork for someone other than me.” He paused for a moment. “Do…do your other siblings have the same sentiment that you do?”
Viktor nodded. “Maybe not Five and Luther—stubborn as they are—but I think the rest of us want to be the Morningstars, not the Hargreeves.”
Lucifer nodded, something welling behind his eyes that just almost pressed its way out. “Well, I trust you’ll pass the permission onto them as well then.”
“Allison Morningstar,” said Principal Jeffers as Allison crossed the stage and accepted her high school diploma. “Ben Morningstar.”
Lucifer found himself tearing up but couldn’t understand why. They’re 18 now, graduated, and about to go off on their own lives.
“Diego Morningstar.”
His obligation to them had ended, and he was now free to do what he wished.
“Fivell Morningstar.”
“How many kids did that guy have?” He heard the parent beside him mutter.
Lucifer laughed, not at the comment but at the irony of his name. Of course the kid would pick a name that still let him be called Five just to spite him. The laughter only made all his other emotions run more freely from his eyes.
“Klaus Morningstar.”
Lucifer felt pride swell in his chest. He didn’t know if he would hear that one at one point.
“Luther Morningstar.”
Lucifer watched Luther tower over the small woman, and he noticed the camera flash on him. Yes, Lucifer could frame all the photos from today. Those bookshelves were getting a bit boring anyway.
“Viktor Morningstar.”
Lucifer was balling now. Those were his children up there, and he loved them.
May 1999
Keeping the urchins was already turning out to be more involved than he liked.
“Let’s start by asking what you hope to get out of these sessions,” Dr. Linda said, a welcoming smile on her face. Lucifer heard that she was one of the best on the market, but they were all the same, though, as far as Lucifer could tell. Just someone who gave you advice for money.
“I intend on upholding my end of the bargain.”
“And what bargain would that be?”
“The spawns were given the ultimatum of therapy or juvie, but they only agreed under the condition that it’s a two way street. Can’t blame them, honestly. Admittedly, I did delay my end of the bargain for some time, but I am a devil of my word.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t ask a stranger to do something I myself wouldn’t do.”
“You’re not a stranger to them, though. You adopted them. Legally, you are their father.”
“Things have changed over the years,” Lucifer laughed. “ But I am no father.”
“You seem like one to me.”
“Well I’m not.” Lucifer said firmly. “I couldn’t be one even if I wanted to be–not because of impotence, I might add. I can present dozens of testimonies that I am actually quite virile.”
Dr. Martin made a note, carefully avoiding the topic of his sex life for the time being.
“You raised these children for five years and now they’re out of the house. You’re an empty nester.”
Lucifer laughed. “Empty nester? You make me sound like an old woman. This is great! Children out of the house means that I can live life how I want. Orgies, booze, generalized debauchery. It’s why I came to L.A. in the first place.” he waited for Linda to answer but she just sat there. “I mean, I guess they are, in many ways, my children, but I’m not their father, really.”
“You are, though. You took them in and cared for them when no one else would.”
Lucifer smiled stiffly. “I was never meant to be a father. Angels like myself are sterile by design. No mingling or connection like that…” Lucifer felt his chest clinch. “You want a goal for these sessions? Make this feeling go away.”
“Love?”
“Pain!” he snapped. “I am not meant to feel this deeply about humanity. I want it gone.”
“Pain is meant to be felt, Lucifer,” Linda said. “It tells you when something is wrong.”
“Of course something’s wrong. This five year agreement is impeding my ability to function even after it’s ended.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Lucifer.” Linda smiled. “Fatherhood doesn’t end so easily.”