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The Hotel kitchen is an absolute disaster, courtesy of the King of Hell himself.
Vegetable scraps stuck to the tile underneath, smearing color across the floor like a demented painting. Water overflows from the sink, dripping along the cupboards below. The fridge beeps at him over and over, practically begging for him to finally close the damn door.
Lucifer, frankly, is not having a great time.
The Hotel’s grand re-opening had all hands on deck. The main problem was that his hands were far more inexperienced compared to everyone else’s. As the rest of the staff dealt with the public directly, Lucifer was banished to the kitchen to handle refreshments. Which maybe was just a nicer way to say they needed him out of everyone’s hair.
He wasn’t the only one ostracized, surely. He had an inkling that Alastor had locked himself in the nearest office, sparing time to come out just to stare down sinners and spread his general broody energy around the lobby like a disease. At least Lucifer was being helpful.
“Dad, can you pass me the bread there?”
Lucifer drops the container in his hand, something full of — coffee? Tea? He didn’t even remember — as he whirls around to face Charlie’s anticipating look as she peeks into the kitchen.
“Yes!” Lucifer assures, a little too loudly. “Yup, yup, lemme just…ah…”
Charlie smiles, stressed, but forgiving. “It’s behind you.”
“Right!” With a swipe, he snatches the loaf off the counter and passes it to Charlie. “Need anything else? Have you eaten? Char-char, you look tired, I can whip you up a sandwich or something—“
“No, no, don’t worry, Dad,” Charlie interrupts, balancing the bread in hand as she carefully makes her way out the door. “It’s okay! Keep doing what you’re doing!”
Her bright demeanor disappears, along with all of the sunshine and positivity in the room. Lucifer sighs, because frankly, he’s not even really sure what he’s doing.
With a grumble, Lucifer begins to pour the tea-coffee- whatever into small disposable cups, lining them along the counter like ducks in a row. He’s run ragged, he knows it, feeling the wisps of disheveled hair tickling the back of his neck. He’d shed his hat and jacket a while ago, leaving himself exposed in a wrinkled vest with a prominent mustard stain on the front from when he was putting together mini sandwiches.
Maybe it was best he stayed out of sight.
He turns to the sink, dumping the empty pot into a large stack of dishes. Niffty was going to have a field day with it all. He sniffs, moving to begin plating everything, before a trace of something familiar hits his nose.
He stops. Sniffs again. The smell is unmistakable—some type of incense, warm and cloyingly sweet—and he stops to look around the kitchen. Nothing had been left on. The oven is blissfully empty. Lucifer hums, sticking his head in the pantry and sniffing again, but the smell is gone, replaced with the general stale stench of old food.
“Oh, God. I’m going insane,” he bemoans, yanking himself out of the pantry. He runs a clawed hand across his face, trying and failing to brush away his latest sleep-deprivation. Maybe he needed food? Maybe a nap? Probably a nap.
Before he’s able to shift his attention back to the task at hand, the smell hits again, stronger this time, accompanied with a strange burning sensation climbing up his legs.
He yelps and hops back, but there’s nothing in the kitchen causing the tingle on his skin. He shifts and reverses, his hip hitting the counter and making him stumble, and he begins to recognize a yellow-orange sigil slowly etching itself into the linoleum.
His mind stutters as the heat crawls all the way to his face, persistent and intrusive. It’s too late for him to scream when the ground opens up and swallows him whole.
“Oh, fuck, my back…”
Lucifer’s eyes slowly open, faced with an unfamiliar sky and an oppressive heat that’s far too unconventional compared to Hell’s environment.
He’s laid out on his back, limbs spread and crooked, like he’d been dropped from a height with no regard for his bones. A searing ache climbs up his spine; god, he really was getting old.
He lifts himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his face before finally taking a good look at his surroundings. It’s very dark, dots of light circling him on top of half-melted candles. The horizon holds a craggy silhouette of mountains and trees, framed by the softened blue hue of moonlight.
Moonlight. He’s not in Hell anymore, he’s on Earth.
“D…Dad? Dad!”
Charlie’s voice rings out, panicky and stricken, and it yanks Lucifer away from his thoughts as he jumps into action. He finds her on the floor only a few feet away, hunched in the dirt, barely visible through the shadows. He can see the faint outline of her horns and the anxious flick of her tail. She peers up at him through watery eyes, shaking hands supporting her as she lifts uneasily off the ground. “Dad!”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay…” Lucifer bends down, his focus solely on comforting his daughter. She careens into him, folding herself into his arms, and Lucifer holds on tight as a rage begins to swallow his fear.
There’s a rustle off to his left. Lucifer’s head snaps in an instant and he finally takes notice of shifting figures within the trees.
They’re cloaked, almost anomalous, moving forward bit by bit. His eyes flick downwards, where he also notices the faint figure of a goat slumped in the dirt, an intricate golden knife poking out from its back.
He looks to the ground beneath them, recognizing the pentagram carved and painted below his feet.
“Ugh, not again,” Lucifer groans, annoyance quickly displacing the anger in his tone. Charlie blinks, surprised by his outburst as she slowly sits up. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”
“Our savior!” A voice calls from the trees. The cloaked figures all begin to raise their hands, bursting into a chant of ancient tongue that Lucifer hadn’t heard in ages.
“Haven’t seen you lot since the 1900s,” Lucifer drily remarks as he and Charlie unsteadily rise to their feet.
“Our prayers are answered! Our calls are heed!” In a wave of motion, the figures drop to the dirt in full bows.
“…oh,” Charlie squeaks, her voice shrinking as she realizes. “We’ve been summoned?”
“We’ve been summoned,” Lucifer echoes. He glances down at his…less-than-stellar appearance of disheveled clothing and mismatched socks. To his credit, his wings and horns have sprouted, and he can feel the end of his tail curl along the ground. He quickly rights himself; if they were going to be dragged to the human world for ridiculous reasons, he could at least see the positive side of it all.
“Oh, oh, oh ! Charlie! This is your first summoning!”
“Dad, no,” Charlie groans, brushing a shy hand against wayward bangs.
“This is a big moment!” Lucifer hops forward, addressing the crowd of cultists surrounding them. “Does anyone have a camera?! I need a photo!”
“Dad, no!”
“Ugh, fine, fine. I’ll make a manuscript later.” Lucifer waves a hand before winking in her direction. “Ok, duckling, watch this. First step for a summoning is the address.”
He flicks his wrists, erupting a swirling beam of fire as his wings lift him into the air. The cultists gasp and shiver amongst each other, glistening eyes peeking out from under their hoods as Lucifer raises his hands, holding two pristine fireballs in his palms. “Humans! You have summoned the wrath of Lucifer and his kin. Speak your request succinctly or I will lay waste upon your land!” His voice booms across the forest, shaking the trees.
With a wide grin, his voice reverts as he turns back to Charlie. “See what I did there?”
Charlie offers an unsteady smile and a thumbs-up.
It takes a second of whispering and murmuring through the cult. Eventually, an unlucky member is shoved out of the trees, falling to its knees in front of Lucifer’s display. The human bows, its entire form shaking in the dirt. “Our Reverence, we ask for your divine intervention in the government makings of our society!”
There’s a pause. Lucifer drops his hands, extinguishing the fireballs and dropping back to the ground with a huff. “Again? I thought you humans would be doing something different by now?!”
The cultist jolts, taken aback. “We apologize, Our King, we weren’t aware of any request being repeated—“
“Of course it has!” Lucifer bellows, sticking up a hand to count off on his fingers. “1546, 1637, 1703, the 1800s four separate times —“
“Oh, I remember you leaving for one of those,” Charlie pipes up. “That governor you had to kill but he ended up getting kicked by a horse!”
“That’s the one. And, jeez, don’t even get me started on 1912—“
“If it’s any consolation,” the cultist interrupts. “All we ask is for involvement in removing a mayoral candidate—“
“Yup, of course, sure, another mayor!” Lucifer throws up his hands in frustration as Charlie tilts her head in consideration. “Why is it never anything fun with you people? Like, I dunno…making a second sun? Bringing the stars into the atmosphere? Hell, I could probably wake Cthulhu up from the depths of the sea if I find the right people—“
“Dad.” Charlie slinks forward, stopping his rant with a light touch to his shoulder. “Maybe we should still try to help them.”
Lucifer frowns deeply at that. “No, hon, the government meddling stuff is too much work for your first summon! There’s paperwork and possessions to carry out—“
“I wouldn’t want to do that,” Charlie insists. “I’ll just do what I’ve been doing.”
She moves forward, hands withdrawing into a nervous clasp at her chest. “Um, hiii everyone! All of you, uh, in the trees there. I’m, uh…Princess Charlie—“
“Remember your titles, sweetie,” Lucifer interjects.
“Oh, right.” Charlie straightens up, determination crossing her face. “Princess Charlie, Harbinger of Destruction, Next in Line for the Throne of Hell…ah, how do you do?”
A rolling murmur runs through the crowd as they fall into bows once more. The cultist at the front peers back, whispers furiously, then huffs and continues. “Lovely to have you, Your Hellness. Will you be able to assist in removing the candidate and solving our town’s corruption?”
“Well, that’s…a hefty ask.” Charlie brings her clasped hands to her face, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “How about we discuss goals and see where that takes us? What’s your main motivation for removing this candidate? How many of you want him gone?”
After a beat, the cultist’s eyes shift towards Lucifer. Lucifer’s proud gaze immediately sours, his eyes blazing, and the cultist moves to answer. “Ah…we were hoping your power could handle the bigger goals—“
“You need to consider your own power! Inside of you!” Charlie declares, shifting to the middle of the pentagram. “Everyone circle up! We’re going to discuss strengths and weaknesses of you all as individuals and as a group!”
The cultists shuffle into place, crawling out from the depths of the trees like ants from a hill.
“Ooh! Bonding activity!” Lucifer claps excitedly at the prospect of finally seeing his daughter’s plans in action. “Should I just watch? Or, oh, should I stand over here or over here —“
“Where you are is good, Dad,” Charlie assures, her shy smile broadening. “I could use your moral support.”
One of the cultists shifts forward, posture dipped into one of unhappiness at the current development. “If we may request, could we possibly have our true leader help us in our endeavors? Someone with…sufficient power?”
Silence. An owl hoots in the far distance.
Lucifer hums before snapping his fingers and incinerating the argumentative cultist in one motion. The rest of the group doesn’t react, immediately focusing all their attention on Charlie.
Lucifer claps his hands together, finger still smoking. “Okay! Char-char, take it away!”
An hour passes. The moon shifts overhead, moving the sky color along with it. Lucifer squints at its position, trying — failing — to tell the time. He’d been out of practice with Earthly customs and the universe’s wonders. As much as studying the moon felt like visiting an old friend, there’s a deep profound pain in his chest at the sight, something he wants to keep unexplored.
Regardless, there’s not much nighttime left. He idly wonders how the Hotel is doing without them.
“Okay!” Charlie’s bright and eager voice rings out like birdsong. “So why do you feel your fellow cultists don’t appreciate you for you ?”
The cultist in question sobs into a handkerchief, flanked by two other concerned members who try in vain to console them. “M-my qualities as an individual involve emotional connection and I’ve never had it!”
“Good, good! Release those feelings!” Charlie assures as the cultist group claps politely. “Now what do we say to that?”
“We acknowledge your concerns,” the group responds in perfect unison.
“Wow, you guys are good at that!”
“Char-char.” Lucifer creeps forward, gently tugging her back. “We’re going to have to head back before sunlight hits.”
“Aw, but they were going to show me their living quarters! I proposed bunk beds to really show involvement and trust—“
Lucifer chuckles, gesturing to the pentagram below them. “Won’t happen, duckling. This tethers us to the spot.”
“Oh.” Charlie’s demeanor begins to wilt. “Right. I…kinda forgot that they trapped us.”
“It’s why I tend to make these things quick,” Lucifer sighs, before rushing to clarify. “But you did good! Look, they don’t even need our help anymore! They’re gonna stage a coup all on their own!”
The cult begins to gather, trading pitchforks and torches amidst hugs and emotional outlets. A group huddles on one end, crying shamelessly into each other’s arms. Another group trades weapons back and forth, laughter singing out amidst their people. It’s, well…it’s about as tight-knit as a devil-worshipping cult could be, but Lucifer’s seen his fair share of them through the years; they tended to work in quiet resentment against the world rather than legitimate teamwork.
(Frankly, he’d never understand the point of them.)
“You did that!” Lucifer chimes, shaking Charlie’s shoulder as she giggles. “Good job, kiddo, you nailed your first summoning, and I think it’s about time we head home.”
He claps his hands, alerting the cultists. His wings spread, casting shadows among the flickering flames of their torches. “Now! I assume your needs have been met accordingly?”
“Oh, yes, Our Lord, we are forever in your debt.” One of the cultists assures as the rest sink into bows. One cultist scurries forward with a book in hand, releasing a guttural chant and spilling a mysterious substance over the pentagram.
The etched lines fizzle, sparking as they fade into the ground. Lucifer sighs as he feels the weight of the invisible tether release from his limbs. Charlie jumps at the feeling, but doesn’t comment.
Their goodbyes are swift. Lucifer scoops Charlie close, her arms wrapping tentatively around his neck as he lifts them both into the air with a powerful flap of his wings. They ascend into the depths of the sky; the chill of the night air hits Lucifer’s face, and he relishes it for a second before changing course and flying above the trees.
He lands them on a mountaintop, slowly aiming them on top of a cliffside with enough room for his spell. Charlie hops from his hold, moving to the edge and staring out into the landscape below as Lucifer quickly marks a few sigils into the dirt.
“Careful with the rocks,” he idly calls, brushing his hands against each other in a puff of dust. “They might fall if you move too quick.”
“The human realm is so pretty. ”
Charlie’s voice is thick with appreciation. Lucifer smiles, approaching her side and following her gaze to the endless expanse. The trees sway in the wind, forming waves of motion throughout the forest. The clouds shift and meld into one another, sweeping across the moon like curtains on a window. There’s the unending pull and push of a water’s tide somewhere in the distance.
Charlie points towards it with barely restrained excitement. “Is that the ocean? ”
“Oh, no, close. It’s just a lake,” Lucifer replies. “The ocean’s a bit farther from here. Come on, let’s get into the circle I’ve made. This spell shouldn’t take long.”
“Oh. Okay.” Charlie’s hand drops, an undercurrent of disappointment in her tone.
Lucifer pauses. Ever since he’d made it a point to be a part of Charlie’s life again, he’d sworn to himself he’d pay better attention to her tells, to her needs and dreams and hopes. He considers her voice, the longing look she gives towards the realm before them, and bites at his lip before coming to a hasty conclusion.
“Wanna check it out?”
“Wha—really?” She straightens, but her smile wanes. “But…I don’t know. The rest of the Hotel might need us. We kinda…just disappeared on them.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Lucifer says with potentially misplaced confidence. “They’ve been working that place for a while now! They should be okay without us for ten more minutes, right?”
“What if someone else sees us?”
“Char-char, humans are very good at making things up.” Lucifer opens his arms; Charlie grins and leans into him, wrapping her arms around his neck once more. “They really like creating myths and legends about things they don’t understand.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
“Oh, it is.”
With a push, he hops off the cliffside, and directs them straight to the lakeshore.
He lands them with a bit less fanfare, withdrawing his wings once his feet hit the sand. Charlie stumbles out of his hold, toeing off her shoes and making a beeline for the water. A sharp yelp of surprise escapes her once she hits it, her tall form jumping and splashing lakewater onto her pants. “Ah! It’s cold.”
“That’s how it is here!” Lucifer laughs, before yanking off his boots and joining her.
He dives in a bit farther than her, the water lifting and coursing up to his thighs. The chill shakes him, latching onto his nerves and bones and soul, and he embraces it whole-heartedly as he dips his hands in and splashes a full handful in Charlie’s direction.
“Dad!” Charlie laughs, shielding her face. She wades closer; the water doesn’t reach as high as it does for him, but she shivers anyway. “I don’t remember it b-being so cold.”
“When you last visited, we were in a warm climate,” Lucifer explains. He still remembers it; Charlie had been a toddler then, and Lilith was….still around. The soft heat of that day, its sleepy warmth and comforting air, is only a blip in his memory now.
It was fine. However cold this memory would be, he’d cherish it.
Charlie digs along the lakeshore bed, her sleeves pushed haphazardly to her elbows and tinged with water. She lifts up a handful of striped rocks, clattering them in her palms like marbles. “Look how smooth these are!”
“Oh! Watch this.”
Lucifer plucks one from her pile before rearing his arm back and releasing it in one fluid straight motion. The rock skips, one, two, three times along the water before sinking with a satisfying plop below the surface.
Charlie gasps, mesmerized. “Teach me! Teach me!”
Lucifer does.
The two of them get lost in the lesson. Charlie’s rocks sink one after the other, and she huffs in frustration before scooping more out of the water to try again. Lucifer adjusts her grip, directs her throw, swings her arm in the proper arcs. The moon shifts farther, the sky beginning to lighten and paint itself with red and yellow undertones.
Charlie’s rock soars before skipping twice and splashing harshly into the water.
“Ah! I did it!” Charlie kicks, sending a spray of water into the air. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Lucifer laughs, carefully withdrawing himself from the lake. His pant legs sag with weight, cold and sticky against his skin, and his hooves leave deep imprints in the sand. “Alright. We should head back before that sun comes up.”
“Okay.” Charlie sighs, giving one last celebratory kick and splash before following him out. She slows, her shoes swinging in her grip as she points behind Lucifer. “Dad, look!”
Lucifer turns. A small feathery animal waddles in their direction, and it takes him a second to find the strength to react before the animal moves forward with a soft quack.
“That’s a duck, right?” Charlie’s voice is low with astonishment. Lucifer can’t help the wide smile across his face, tugging at his cheeks so much, it almost hurts. “It’s adorable!”
The duck quacks again, fluffing out its feathers and bringing its beak down to the water.
Lucifer’s tail flicks behind him, snapping against his heel. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, yup, that’s…that’s a duck. Beautiful lil’ creatures, huh?”
“They really are.”
The duck’s feathers shimmer and flutter before it slowly wobbles into the water, bobbing along in its typical routine. Lucifer watches it go, swallowing against the mixture of pride and grief in his chest.
“...I made them, you know.”
“Really?” Charlie’s tone is wary. She knew her dad was touchy about his past, but her curiosity pushes her forward. “With all those pretty colors? That’s…a really impressive feat, Dad.”
The duck disappears under the water. It erupts back out a moment later, shaking droplets off of its beak.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Lucifer sighs. “They were the thing I was most proud of for a while.”
“What’s the creation you’re proudest of now?”
Lucifer laughs, hooking Charlie into a hug. “You, of course!”
Charlie giggles. They watch the duck a bit longer before fluttering back into the sky with its swaths of brightening light.
Lucifer brings them both back to the Hotel lobby in a flash of light and a flutter of white and red feathers.
The Hotel is in shambles.
Their presence is largely ignored as guests weave through the halls and room, climbing upturned furniture and stepping over messes of discarded food and trash. A missing poster is already swaying on the window, crude drawings of Lucifer and Charlie plastered to its front. A spontaneous fire burns away in the corner.
“Gosh,” Lucifer huffs as Charlie brings a hand to her mouth. “You fall out of the dimension one time…”
“ Charlie!”
Vaggie’s voice filters above the rest and she crashes into Charlie’s arms, nearly knocking the both of them over. Charlie whispers assurances and holds Vaggie close; Lucifer awkwardly folds his arms against himself and gazes around the chaos in the lobby.
“What happened?!” Vaggie gasps as she pulls away, directing them both. “Where did you two go? One second you were next to me and then there was fire or light or something — ”
“Oh, fuck, they’re safe!” Angel is the next to join, Husk directly tailing him as they approach. “Y’all really abandoned us for what?!”
“It’s okay, we’re fine!” Lucifer insists, lifting his hands in an effort to placate. “I am, you know, the Devil . From the Bible. So humans have a bit of a tendency to summon me and, ah, Charlie got a bit roped into it as well…”
“You were in the human realm?!” Angel squeaks as Husk’s mouth drops open and Vaggie shakes her head. “Just…casually? You guys can just go there?”
“It’s technically forbidden for us to,” Charlie fills in uneasily, glancing at her dad, who only offers a similarly shaky smile. “Summoning is out of our control. As you all…saw.”
“Okay. So I gotta worry about you dropping out of our reality. That’s fine, that’s great.” Vaggie’s eye twitches as she steps back, keeping Charlie’s hand tightly gripped in hers. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Alastor tried to take over and uh…”
“He sucks at crowd control.” Husk’s monotone voice chimes in. After a second, the crowd of guests begin to stagger into a group at the foot of the stairs, and Alastor’s shout rises, tinged with the crackling pitch of radio static and a faint tune of circus music.
“Okay! Everyone, stop!” Alastor growls as guests fall over themselves. “You, put out that fire! And you , no eating other guests in the lobby! You, if you start chewing on the floorboards again, I will tear your limbs apart —”
After a few chaotic seconds, Alastor sinks into shadows and reappears directly next to Charlie, his smile manic and his eyes filled with exhaustion. “My dear, where were you?”
Lucifer snorts. Alastor’s head snaps in his direction, as if just realizing he was even there. “Couldn’t handle it, huh? That’s a real shame.”
Alastor sneers, his lips pulling back to display the sharp canines of his teeth. “As a King, you oughta know better than to pull your daughter from her responsibilities.”
“We got summoned,” Charlie hastily fills in. “To the human realm. It was out of our control.”
“Just like this whole fuckin’ crowd,” Angel mutters as a loud crash rings out from the parlor.
The group scatters, jumping into action to begin damage control. Charlie pulls Vaggie along, but stops halfway and quickly reaches into her pocket. “Oh! Before we get into this, I brought you a souvenir!”
Vaggie jumps as Charlie deposits a smooth wet rock into her palm.
“It’s cold,” Vaggie gasps, her thumb swiping against its striated surface. It’s a bit on the weirder side of Charlie’s souvenirs, but she had to admit, it was pretty. “Why is it so cold?”
Charlie laughs, her shoulders lifting. “That’s just how the human realm is!”
(Vaggie remembers. Pain-stakingly so.)
She smiles as Charlie finally turns and delves into the crowd to do what she does best.