Archive of Our Own

Two months passed, he was thirteen and everything continued on like normal. They did throw him a birthday party, he’d give them that much. More of a get together for family and friends, but hey there was a cake.

He opened presents with strangers, a lot of football jerseys and a football to throw around with the family. His case worker Lauren had been there, she was the only one who gave him a new sketchbook.

Lauren had pulled him aside and they talked, well Lauren talked, and Takuma listened. Pretty much how everything would go down, when the adoption court date was.

He shrugged and nodded when appropriate and the day ended, and the days blurred together.

He didn’t play piano anymore.

He didn’t draw.

The white throw blanket Lucifer had given him stayed shoved under his bed, next to the messenger bag with the manatee plush. He hadn’t looked at them in weeks. He was too angry. Too hurt. The anger felt safer than the ache.

He was supposed to be adopted.

He was supposed to be home.

Instead, he was trapped in a picture-perfect house with cold, polished floors and stiff smiles that cracked too easily. His new foster parents were a military couple stationed in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. On paper, it probably looked like a stable household—structure, resources, order. In reality, it was a minefield.

The wife was tight-lipped and exhausted. Not cruel, but always on edge, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Still, she always tried to find something they could do together, she took him out for ice cream, planned a trip to the aquarium and they went on walks together, asked him questions to give him the chance to open up.

He didn’t hate her, but he hated having to try at all.

The husband was... worse.

He treated Takuma like a recruit, not a child. He tried to get Takuma into football. Told him to stand up straighter, as though Takuma didn’t already hold himself to a ridiculous standard. Called him "son" with a tone that suggested it was a test.

Takuma always seemed to fail at every time.

He refused to cut his hair, something about looking like a girl and not a boy, which fuck off, Angel Dust could wipe the floor with his ass. Takuma refused to join the football team, he liked not having brain damage, thanks. He refused to speak unless spoken to, because honestly this guy was fucking annoying, and Takuma was tired of pleasing others. When the man suggested military school after the adoption went through, Takuma finally snapped:

"You can fucking try. See how well that works."

From that moment on, the man stopped trying to hide his contempt.

Takuma didn’t care. He went to school, came home, ate the food he was told to eat. He took the antidepressants in front of them and then spit them out and flushed them later, because fuck you he’d feel however he wanted to feel. He showed up to therapy and said what the therapist wanted to hear.

He waited and waited for someone to come for him.

Lucifer had promised. If the family backed out, he’d come. If they didn’t want him, he’d be adopted by someone who did.

But no one came.

So, Takuma stopped waiting.

Two months into his own personal Hell, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling while muffled voices rose from the kitchen below. Arguing. He didn’t need to strain to listen—they didn’t hide their arguments.

"He's not right," the man hissed.

"He's been through a lot—"

"He's dangerous. You didn't see the way he looked at me today. That kid's already killed someone. I can see it in his eyes. He's a fucking psycho."

A long pause.

"We were lied to. He doesn’t need a home. He needs a goddamn psych ward."

Takuma didn’t cry, worse things had been said about him, to him. At this point maybe it was all true. No reason to cry over the truth.

He rolled onto his side and waited until the lights downstairs went out. When the house was still and the husband was snoring, Takuma got up and made no sound as he dressed quickly. He grabbed his schoolbag and dumped everything out, he rolled his clothes tight to fit enough in and went about grabbing all his essentials like toothbrush, his switchblade, and water bottle. He went into their garage and stole matches, a lighter, flashlight and Firestarter. He saw some of those dehydrated meals and grabbed several. When he went back into his room, he pulled out cash he still had tucked away from before and made sure he was ready to disappear.

He forgoes the purple chucks in favor of his best running shoes, layers up his clothes for warmth.

Also, his magic phone. It couldn’t call the people he wanted, but he never had to charge it, it was waterproof and fall proof. The GPS was going to be a fucking God send.

At the last second, he ducked under the bed and pulled out the messenger bag. The plush manatee and white blanket stared back at him. He brought the blanket to his face and breathed in. His chest squeezed tight at the scent of fresh apples and his eyes felt hot.

He stood there in the silence, breathing in the only comfort he’d ever really known. Before he shoved the blanket and plush into his messenger back and slung it over his shoulders.

The last thing he did was grab his barely used sketchbook and dump it into his trashcan. For some reason, that both felt really good and made his stomach nauseous.

Then he opened the window, climbed onto the roof, and dropped into the backyard without a sound. He put in the closest national forest nearby and started walking.

No one wanted him.

No one was coming.

And Takuma was done hoping for someone to want him, when not even demons wanted to keep his soul.

Two months have passed, a birthday was missed, and Alastor wasn’t any closer to his goal.

All legitimate avenues didn’t work, and he did test them. The spells, runes and arcane would glow and then fizzle out like electricity going through mangled wires. Alastor never heard nor saw Lucifer whenever this happened, but he surely knew the Radio Demon hadn’t given up.

He couldn’t even be bothered to punish his mere servant for trying to disobey his commands, pathetic.

Still, small miracles were not to be frowned upon, if one was inclined to frown.

Alastor only made minimal appearances around the hotel, Charlie had tasked him to put all his time into working on this project of theirs. Vaggie and the others, not counting Angel, were not in the know.

Angel Dust was just as invested and though he was busy with work, he subtly asked around, and Alastor made it very clear to be as vague about this as possible. None of them needed those Vees smelling blood in the water. Angel had agreed and so far, Valentino hadn’t noticed anything enough to report back to Vox. Because that was just what Alastor needed, that blasted idiot sniffing around and finding out about Takuma.

Two months now of no knowledge if Takuma was alright, if he was well cared for. Lucifer should have at least vetted this couple himself to make sure they were a good fit, but you couldn’t expect miracles from the most hated creature in the world.

Alastor sat in his chair and his head fell into his open hands, a bottle of bourbon half gone on the table beside him.

In between this project, he’d updated the library with detective stories, drivel he’d never bothered with before now, something he checked through to see if it would entertain his little detective. He had vegetarian snacks tucked away in his drawers instead of just his dried demon fingers, separated of course. His fainting chair had a little plush he’d picked up in Cannibal town someone had made of the Radio Demon himself, he wondered if Takuma would laugh at it and like it more than his manatee plush. He’d found jasmine scent hair oils to help his curls calm, something he suspected would please the boy to no end along with a soft bristled brush and comb set to help tame the curls.

He knew this was horribly sentimental, a weakness if anyone caught on. But fuck it, if Carmilla Carmine could adopt her blasted daughters, Alastor could have a son.

He’d had the shrine painting framed and cast a protection spell so it would never be damaged or fade, he had it hanging in his suite. Charlie hadn’t argued about it, her eyes had just softened, and she said it was where it belonged.

Alastor claws had itched to poke out Lucifer’s face in the picture, but he’d left it alone. That should be Takuma’s choice, because he was going to give him the choice.

… In hindsight yes, he did understand what Lucifer meant. Alastor knew very well how a deal went, and amendments were useful. But it still took Takuma’s choice away. The mortal should have had the choice to say he didn’t want them, not the other way around. His heartbroken by more of humanity. The problem with Lucifer was not his pride, it was his depression and anxiety. He allowed his emotions to speak for everyone else and still believed he was giving everyone their free well.

A part of Alastor did ache for the King, eight months of constant contact and four of those with constant attention, he’d liked it, he’d liked the King of Hell’s pull, temptation.

But not more than he cared for Takuma. If he learned nothing else from his Maman, he could say with confidence he learned to never choose a man over a child. His Maman had always chosen him over the men around her, despite how it would have made her life easier to find a better husband, if they didn’t want her mixed race son they couldn’t have her. And it would be so easy to fall for the King.

Lucifer would need to earn Takuma’s forgiveness first, as it is not something Alastor was willing to give without a price.

Alastor sighed and pulled back from his thoughts to have another finger of bourbon, when there was banging at his door.

“Smiles! Open up!” Angel exclaimed, sounding as though he was banging on the door with all his fists.

Alastor raised a brow and fixed his clothes sans his jacket which was on a hook by the door and walked over, he opened it and stepped out of the way for Angel to almost fell face first into his flooring.

“Fuckin’ finally!” Angel exclaimed and righted himself before he turns around on Alastor. “I know how we can get Takuma back!” he grinned with triumph.

Alastor didn’t give a big reaction, they’d been through this for two months, he wasn’t discouraged but he wasn’t a fool either.

“You’ve said that four other times, my dear arachnid.” Alastor reminded him and walked back over to his drink, knowing the handsy demon would follow him.

“Yeah, but this time I know this is gunna work!”

Alastor made a noise in the back of his throat and fixed his drink before turning back to the other man. “Well, go on then, what’s this idea of yours?”

Angel Dust smirked and pulled out his hellsphone and showed Alastor the picture. Three imps and a hellhound with a business to assassinate your enemy still on the living plain.

Alastor’s ear flicked back briefly, glaring at the other. “Need I remind you, I don’t want him dead. He won’t be coming here if he dies.”

Angel made a frustrated sound and waved his arms in the air. “I’m not sayin’ we pay these guys to snub him, I’m sayin’ we pay ‘em ta find him and you grease their palms ta go with them and take back Radio Baby. Maybe eat an adoptive parent ta make ya feel better.”

The thought did make him feel better, eating the family that is.

“And how do they have access to the mortal realm?” Alastor asked, looking down at the phone screen but refusing to touch it, Angel was kind enough to scroll for him.

“Got some Asmodeus crystal they use to go back an’ forth.” Angel explained.

“And this is real.”

“Yup! I asked around, it’s legit, Smiles!”

Alastor did not believe in hope, but he felt something very close to it rise up in his tainted essence. “It wouldn’t hurt to have discussion with these imps.” Alastor agreed and put his drink down, walking over to grab his coat.

“They’re kind’ve expensive, I got some cash in case we need more.” Angel said, following the other out and waited while he shut and warded his door.

Alastor waved his hand, his grin big and pleased. “No need, Angel, I may not have a King’s fortune, but I am quite well off. Come, my good fellow! Takuma awaits!” he said and summoned his cane and started walking.

Alastor was somewhat thankful Charlie was busy in Heaven at this juncture. While he had agreed to her help, a large part of him wanted to be the hero in this venture. He wanted to see Takuma’s face when he realized Alastor came back for him, he didn’t want to share that moment with anyone else.

Angel Dust followed behind him as they exited the elevator, and his cane clicked on the broken ugly tiles as they walked to the door with I.M.P written on the front.

He didn’t bother knocking, pushing the door open and assessing those around him.

The place wasn’t much to talk about, the occupants were indeed imps and a hellhound young woman behind a large desk.

“Greetings my gentle fellows!” Alastor called out and four heads swiveled to him.

Alastor’s grin widened in satisfaction when he noticed they did recognize him—

“Holy shit, that’s Angel Dust!”

Angel came to stand beside him, and by the multi-eyed side eye he was giving Alastor, he knew what that did to his ego.

This project was making certain demons too comfortable around him.

The taller of the imps came over, looking between the two demons warily and spoke up. “We usually get newer sinners in here, someone with a grudge, what the fuck does two old fucks like you want?”

Alastor has never tried imp, but he wasn’t opposed to grilling up a few steaks.

Angel spoke first. “We ain’t lookin’ for a hit, we’re lookin’ for somebody we cares about.”

The imp woman frowned at them both. ‘Like Blitz said, ya’ll’ve been around a while, anybody you knew’d be either here or upstairs.”

Angel pulled up his hellsphone and showed a picture of Takuma, the sight of made Alastor’s dead heart squeeze in his chest. “This is the kiddo we’re lookin’ for. He’s very important ta us.”

Blitz looked at the picture and then at Alastor. “You’re the Radio Demon, I’ve heard you’re a fucking asswipe, and a cannibal. What do you want with a kid?” he asked, his tone defensive and angry.

Angel looked between them, and he met Alastor’s eye, “Ya gotta give ‘em somethin’ Smiles.”

Alastor didn’t sigh, but it was almost a sure thing, instead he pulled his cane under his arm and with a flourish of his other claw, a framed hand drawn picture of himself and Takuma appeared, colored with care and one Takuma had given him, saying it was so he had something of the two without having to worry about a camera.

Alastor held the frame gently and lowered his claw for the group to see. “I’d appreciate discretion here, as my enemies would love nothing more than to find out about him, but he is my child. He was taken from me two months ago, I’ve been looking for a way to get him back.” He explained.

The group took at the framed picture and Blitz’s countenance changed as he looked from the picture to Alastor and a quick cut to the young hellhound who met his stare with one of her own.

Blitz sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck, yeah alright, I’ll get the shithead back for you.”

Alastor’s eyes turned black. “His name is Takuma, you will be respectful to my child.”

Angel cleared his throat. “He’s a little sensitive right now, kid means a lot ta him.”

The other imp stepped forward. “Do you know where we can find him?”

Angel frowned. “Not really, but I have his phone numba, can ya trace it?” he asked.

Blitz sighed. “Yeah, Moxxie’ll be able to find him for you. We’ll portal to wherever he is and bring him back.”

“I’ll be coming with you.” Alastor stated.

“The fuck you will!”

The imp woman came up between then, hands up. “What Blitz means is, its not a good idea fer a demon ta come through with us.”

Alastor tensed but kept himself composed. “What was your name, my dear?”

“Millie.” She supplied it with a smile.

“Millie, a pleasure to meet you, quite a pleasure. Let me be frank, I will be there when you find him, and I will be bringing my son home with me.”

Blitz growled out. “Hey, you need us, don’t think you can just make demands—”

Angel crossed his arms. “We’ll pay ya double and I’ll add a few autographs in fa free.”

The group of hellborn’s eyes went wide and immediately the tune changed, Moxxie grabbed the phone number and went to work, the hellhound gave Angel a marker and glossy pictures of the spider to sign.

Almost there, my darling, just hold on.

The imps worked relatively quick in the knowledge of double pay coming their way.

Alastor sat prim and proper on the couch in the lobby, Angel less so proper but at least he kept to his side. The Radio Demon maintained his composure, he declined a half-hearted offer of water from Loona and continued to wait patiently.

The patience he exuded was not how he felt inside.

“Sir, it looks like the we’re dropping into the middle of a forest.”

Blitz shrugged and did something unsavory to the crystal on his wrist. “Let’s just get this over with so we can get the fucking money.”

Alastor stood from the couch and walked over when the portal opened. He felt Angel follow him. “Ina forest? What the Hell is he doin’ in the woods in winter for fuck’s sake?” the Spider hissed.

“He ran away.” Alastor answered and followed the imps and hellhound through the portal.

They were immediately drenched in icy rain, Millie flicked on a flashlight and the air was frigid enough to see one’s breath. Alastor could only think of Takuma out in this, hoping he was somewhere out of the rain, a tent if he could have managed to steal one. His ears flicked back at the thought of his boy shivering in this cold, alone and—

“Damn, there’s no way we find someone in this.” Blitz groused.

Alastor turned his head to glare over his shoulder. “If you want your money, you’ll do your job.” He hissed through static.

Moxxie handed Blitz a flashlight and turned on his own. “The last location isn’t far from here, sir. If we’re quick we should be able to find him, hopefully somewhere safe and dry.” He worried.

Loona sniffed the air. “Hey, what does he smell like?” she asked.

Alastor blinked and spoke. “Jasmine and citrus.”

Loona sniffed around again, moved towards the hill. “I think I smell him close by, if we go this way—”

Suddenly something heavy rolled down the hill, crashing into the dirt ahead of them. All flashlights swiveled towards the moving lump, but Alastor didn’t need the light to see clearly.

He watched Takuma gasp for breath from his rough landing, shivering in the cold frigid rain, his glasses were cracked on one lens and despite the rain, blood came down his temple in a heavy flow. Takuma winced but turned on his back, scrambling away from the hill as something came down behind him.

The mountain lion stalked up on its prey, yellow eyes glowing in the light. The cat’s breath spread out like fire.

Takuma gasped and scrambled away more, a whimper of fear escaped his lips.

Alastor saw red.

His body grew and his frame turned massive, yet he moved through the forest without a sound and came to hover above Takuma protectively. The cat startled and its hackles raised at Alastor, seeing itself out matched by a bigger enemy, not weak prey.

Alastor could appreciate another predator, animals only doing what they needed to for survival. But unfortunately, this cat had picked the wrong meal.

One giant claw scooped up Takuma and brought him close to his chest, the other snapped out and grabbed the lion. The cat yowled and screamed, biting at his hand and drawing blood. Alastor felt nothing but the shivering boy curled against his chest as he brought the cat to his gaping jaw and bit it in half, the rest of its body went limp before he devoured the beast in another bite.

“Holy fucking shit.” Blitz said in the quiet rain, watching as lightning cracked through the sky, illuminating Alastor’s monstrous form before he shrunk down and cradled the boy close to his chest.

Alastor stalked back over to the imps, vaguely he noted Loona come back down the hill with something over her shoulder. “Open the portal now.”

Blitz moved quickly and the portal opened behind them, Alastor rushed past to go through first.

Angel Dust looked over when they came through and when he saw Takuma he made a mournful sound. “Aw shit, kid.” He whispered.

Alastor pulled his boy closer, assessing the damage. Takuma was icy to the touch, blood streaming from a wound on his head and his lips were turning blue. Panic ran through the Radio Demon and without a word his shadow dumped the money on the desk, and he disappeared into the shadows.

The moment Alastor arrived back in his suite, he didn’t waste a second.

He placed Takuma gently on the fainting couch near the fire, snapping his fingers to ignite the hearth into a roaring blaze. The room warmed quickly, but it wasn’t enough.

Without hesitation, Alastor knelt beside the couch and the boy, his movements uncharacteristically brisk as he carefully peeled off the soaked, muddied clothes. He laid each piece aside with silent reverence, then summoned a towel from the nearby armoire and began patting his boy down, brisk but gentle.

Takuma let out a soft noise of discomfort when Alastor reached his head. The Radio Demon paused, eyes narrowing at the blood seeping from the wound at his temple.

“Shh, it’s alright now, I’ve got you.” He murmured.

His shadow appeared at his side with the first aid kit he kept—because Charlie insisted every room should have one—and he went to work. He pulled out the antiseptic, cotton, and bandages and with slow care, he cleaned the cut. Takuma stirred weakly and whimpered, but Alastor’s voice, low and soothing, coaxed him back into stillness.

He dressed the wound carefully, wrapping the bandage around Takuma’s head with gentle claws that minutes ago tore a creature in half. Then, reaching into a drawer in his vanity, he pulled out the pajamas made for Takuma over the summer, along with underwear and socks.

Alastor dressed him with care, as if afraid the boy might shatter under his hands. He then bundled him tightly into the thickest wool blanket he owned. He had to leave his side for a moment to change his own clothes and towel off his own hair and ears. Once he finished and was dressed in his own nightclothes, Alastor returned and scooped his boy up into his arms and cradled him close.

The fire crackled and popped, the only other sound was Takuma worrying labored breaths. Those soon calmed as warmth finally sunk into his skin and bones, the mortal’s brow smoothing out in his sleep.

Alastor brushed back the damp curls from Takuma’s forehead. “You’re safe now, my darling,” he murmured. “You’re home.”

Takuma stirred.

He didn’t wake with a start—he hadn’t the energy for it. He came to slowly, like sinking upward through water. Warmth was the first thing he registered—thick and surrounding, with the faintest weight of a wool blanket across his body. The second thing was pain. His limbs ached, stiff and sore, his head throbbed with a dull, persistent sting. Every muscle in his body felt pulled tight, then wrung out.

His eyes fluttered open. A dim firelight flickered on the ceiling. The scent of smoke and lavender-scented cleaning oil filled his nose.

Where was he? Not the forest. Not the house.

His brain kicked in slowly. He was warm. Dry. He wasn’t dead. The blanket was soft. His skin didn’t hurt anymore. Something clean was wrapped around his head.

A shadow shifted in his periphery, and Takuma tensed—but the warmth didn’t recede. In fact, it deepened.

He looked up and Alastor was watching him.

The Radio Demon had him curled on his lap, cross-legged, pajama-clad, with his sleeves rolled to the elbow and his hair slightly curled at the edges. His eyes—red, round, glowing warm and fixed on Takuma like the boy was the most important thing he’d ever seen.

"Good morning, my darling boy," Alastor said softly, his grin calm and real and not too big. “Welcome back.”

Takuma blinked at him. A whirl of emotions rose in his chest—relief, confusion, disbelief, hurt. For a second, he couldn’t speak, and his throat closed up.

Alastor reached forward and brushed a curl from Takuma’s forehead, careful not to touch the bandage. “I was terribly worried. But you're safe now. You’re home.”

Takuma’s fingers curled into the blanket, his eyes burned, and his heart twisted.

Because how could this be real?

How could Alastor say those things when two months ago, he wouldn’t even take his soul? Wouldn’t keep him, wouldn’t stay. And now—here he was. Gentle. Soft. Loving.

He didn’t know what to believe.

Alastor slowly moved, slipping his arms beneath Takuma and lifting him easily, shifting him to lay on the couch and Takuma didn’t resist. He was too tired.

“I’ll run you a bath,” Alastor said gently. “Warm water will help with the aches.”

Takuma didn’t answer.

He just stared ahead, hollow and silent, caught in the tangled knots of grief and longing and betrayal and need. Because he’d spent two weeks in the woods thinking he would never know this again and now he wasn’t sure if he could forgive it.

The fire crackled softly. Somewhere in the distance, Takuma could hear the water start to run.

He tried to breathe slowly. Count the sounds. The popping logs. The rushing water. Alastor’s gentle footsteps, but his chest felt tight. His breath started to go shallow. Not fast—he wasn’t panicking—But his body was warning him. A low hum beneath his ribs, a storm gathering behind his eyes.

Should he lash out? Should he cry? Should he scream?

He didn’t know. He didn’t have the strength.

He sank further into the blanket, letting the warmth of the fire press against his sore bones, letting the heat blur the edges of his thoughts. This had to be a dream. Maybe he’d died out there, maybe this was what dying looked like. A warm couch. A familiar voice. The illusion of safety.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until Alastor returned and knelt beside him, brushing soft fingers beneath his eyes.

“Shh,” the demon murmured, voice like a song on old vinyl, hushed and crackling. “You’re alright now. I’ve got you.”

Takuma flinched at the touch, but didn’t pull away, Alastor’s hands were warm.

More tears slid down Takuma’s cheeks, hot and confused and aching, he sniffled and blinked slowly.

Alastor leaned in, pressing a kiss to Takuma’s damp curls. “You’re safe, darling. You’re home.”

He kissed his curls again, kissed his forehead, his eyelids and then his nose. Each one felt like a promise, like an apology. Takuma shook but still didn’t speak and Alastor didn’t ask him to.

He just held him close again, letting the silence stretch and letting it be enough.

Eventually, Alastor’s arms shifted again, this time with more purpose. He rose slowly, cradling Takuma close to his chest.

“Come now, darling,” he murmured. “Let’s get you clean. The bath is ready.”

Takuma didn’t move, he was limp in Alastor’s arms as they crossed the suite to the adjoining washroom. The warmth of the steam hit him before they reached the tub. It smelled faintly of lavender and something sweet.

Alastor crouched beside the tub and looked down at him with gentle concern.

“Do you need help undressing?” he asked softly.

Takuma’s throat tightened, his body ached. He didn’t know what to say though, didn’t know how to form the words. He made a small noise in his throat—a whimper, pained and unsure.

That was all Alastor needed.

He moved gently, efficiently, undoing the buttons of the pajama top, easing the boy’s arms free. Then the pants, slow and careful. Alastor looked away politely where needed, preserving Takuma’s dignity even now.

The moment his skin was bare, the cool air pricked his goosebumps—but Alastor guided him into the bath with utmost care, one hand supporting his back, the other steadying his arm.

Takuma lowered into the hot water and nearly gasped. It hurt at first—stinging at every sore point—but then it eased.

Alastor conjured a chair beside the tub and sat, stayed.

He adjusted his sleeves and reached for a basin, a cloth, and a small bottle of shampoo.

Claws combed through his curls, untangling knots matted with mud. Water ran pink where the blood still clung near the wound. But Alastor went slow with his claws soothing, never pulling or rushing with intent to caused pain.

He worked around the bandage with practiced hands, refreshing the cloth often.

Takuma didn’t speak the entire time, but the tears didn’t stop, and Alastor’s hands never faltered. He hummed under his breath—an old tune, something sweet, maybe a lullaby.

And Takuma, small and hurting and overwhelmed, sat in the warmth and cried while Alastor cared for him like he was something sacred.

Alastor gently helped Takuma out of the bath, careful of the boy’s healing wound and fragile limbs. He wrapped him in a thick towel, patting him dry with slow, deliberate tenderness. Takuma didn’t speak but he let himself be moved like a doll, blinking slowly, chest rising in shallow, quiet breaths.

Alastor dried him fully, then helped him into a fresh set of warm pajamas, another set from the summer. As if Alastor had never stopped believing he’d wear them again.

Then, without hesitation, Alastor scooped him up once more and carried him back to the fainting couch in front of the fire.

The flames were low but steady now, casting golden light across the plush carpet and warm velvet upholstery. Alastor sat beside him, adjusting Takuma’s weight until he rested half in his lap.

“I’m going to change the bandage now,” Alastor said softly, voice near a whisper.

Takuma didn’t respond, his eyes were glassy, unfocused but he didn’t resist.

With careful fingers, Alastor unwound the soaked bandage and replaced it with a clean, dry one. Then, setting aside the supplies, he reached for the comb and the oils he had bought months ago.

“This may tug a little,” he warned gently, but Takuma didn’t flinch. He merely blinked again, silent tears still slipping down his cheeks.

Alastor worked in silence at first, combing out the matted curls, the tangles from the woods. The jasmine oil coated his gloveless claws, and the scent slowly filled the room—familiar and warm.

“You’re in shock, my dear,” Alastor murmured, finally breaking the silence again. “That’s alright. You’ve been through too much, all at once.”

He reached forward to brush Takuma’s damp hair from his brow and kissed his temple gently.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. Just rest. I’m here.”

Takuma’s breath caught slightly, but he didn’t speak.

Alastor continued in the same soothing tone. “You don’t have to go anywhere. I’ve arranged everything so you can stay here with me.”

The comb stilled briefly, then resumed.

“I looked for a way back to you every day. Every waking moment. I’ve never stopped.”

He tilted Takuma’s chin slightly, so their eyes met.

“And I swear on every soul I’ve ever owned—I will never let you be taken from me again.”

Takuma didn’t answer. But he didn’t look away either, the blue of his eyes dimmed and gray. Alastor brought their foreheads together and breathed in and out, relieved, that was enough for now.

Takuma wasn’t sure when he’d passed back out, but when he woke Alastor wasn’t holding him this time.

His body ached from head to toe, but he was warm—comfortably warm, the kind of warmth that wrapped around his bones. His muscles throbbed, joints sore from cold and bruises. A soft blanket pressed around him, tucked in at the edges, and the smell of jasmine and firewood hung faintly in the air.

There was a voice at the door—hushed, familiar.

Takuma stirred, the blanket slipping off his shoulder. He winced and let out a faint grunt of pain, instinctively trying to sit up.

“Takuma?”

Alastor was at his side in an instant, sitting beside him on the bed with his eyes wide and searching.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, then more urgently, “Where does it hurt? How’s your head? Tell me, darling.”

Takuma blinked at him, his brain still catching up. Everything ached, his throat felt raw and he didn’t even know what to say.

Behind Alastor, another figure appeared, arms full—Angel Dust.

He held Takuma’s familiar messenger bag, his worn backpack, and a plastic grocery bag.

“Hey, kiddo,” Angel said gently. “We grabbed your stuff. The imps even ran to the store. Got you some medicine—‘cause they don’t have that shit in the Pride Ring—and a few painkillers.”

Alastor didn’t turn around. “Thank you. Leave it on the desk,” he said shortly, all formal crispness and no warmth. Then he turned back to Takuma with terrifying softness. “Do you need water? I can get tea if that’s easier to drink—”

Takuma’s voice rasped out, barely above a whisper.

“Angel… I missed you.”

Angel blinked.

Alastor froze.

The spider demon stepped closer, grin softening. “Aw, kid… I missed you too.”

Alastor’s eye twitched. But when Takuma’s hand reached toward Angel, Alastor moved aside without protesting.

Angel sat gently beside him on the bed, careful of the blankets and the bruises. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around Takuma in a soft hug, brushing one hand through curls. “You scared the hell outta me, sweetheart,” he whispered. “No more runnin’ away, just stick with us and we’ll take care of ya.”

Takuma nodded against his shoulder, still mute, but at least the tears had stopped.

Alastor stood behind them, hands clenched tight, jaw ticking. But he stayed silent.

Angel gave Takuma a soft squeeze, brushing his hair gently as he leaned back. “You’ve been outta it, sweetheart. We were all worried sick—me, Charlie, and even this grumpy bastard.” He nodded toward Alastor, who stood frozen like a statue behind them. “Charlie’s in Heaven right now, threatenin’ angels or some shit.”

Takuma didn’t speak. He just looked at Angel with wide, watery eyes.

“I brought your phone,” Angel added, reaching into the grocery bag and pulling out a pristine magic device. “Still works, thought you’d want it.”

Takuma’s hand trembled as he took it.

“And I got these,” Angel continued, lifting a small bottle of pills. “Some painkillers and cold meds. You feelin’ achy? Want somethin’ for the pain?”

Before Takuma could even nod, Alastor cleared his throat loudly.

“That’s quite enough excitement for now,” he announced with a crisp edge. “Takuma needs rest. And food.”

Angel looked back at him, smirking. “Alright, alright, don’t twist your bowtie. I’ll come back later, kiddo.”

Takuma’s face fell a little. He clutched the phone to his chest.

Angel noticed and softened. He leaned in for another quick hug. “I’ll be back soon, promise. Just gotta let the Diva Demon here do his thing.”

Alastor waited until Angel left, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

He turned to Takuma, and just like flipping a switch, all stiffness melted away. His hands were gentle as he helped the boy recline again, fluffing the pillows behind him.

“There we are. Let’s get some food into you.” With a snap of his fingers, a tray appeared beside the bed, steam rising from a bowl of chicken soup. A glass of water and a small cloth-wrapped packet of pills sat next to it.

Alastor placed the tray carefully across Takuma’s lap. “Eat slowly. Small sips. We’ll take care of the pain after, alright?”

Takuma didn’t answer but he didn’t pull away either.

Alastor sat beside him, watching his every move like a hawk. “When you feel stronger,” he said softly, “we’ll go to the library. I found a rather absurd mystery novel that I think you’ll enjoy tearing apart. And afterward, if you’re up for it, I’ll show you the art supplies I stocked. And the new brush for your curls.”

Takuma stared at the soup. His lips trembled, but he still didn’t speak.

Alastor didn’t rush him.

“Everything is ready for you now,” he added quietly. “You never have to leave this suite if you don’t want to. You’ll stay with me. Forever.”

Takuma ate the soup in silence, each spoonful shaky in his hand, but he got through it. Alastor helped him take the painkillers, offering water in an old glass cup. The medicine dulled the ache in his limbs, but it couldn’t touch the burn growing beneath his skin.

The more present he became, the more the anger set in. He’d been thrown away, again. But now Alastor was here, acting like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t refused him, like he hadn’t let him go.

Takuma felt his jaw clench. If he talked back now—if he let all of this come out—Alastor would get tired of him. Just like the others. Just like the family. Just like Lucifer.

He wanted to prove it.

“You really think soup and fancy pajamas fixes this?” he muttered, voice hoarse. “You show up now and act like you care.”

Alastor didn’t flinch. If anything, he looked relieved.

“There he is,” he murmured with a smile, brushing a curl back from Takuma’s forehead. “I was wondering when my little menace would wake up.”

Takuma scowled. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The boy glared, testing the edge. “I’m not the same anymore. I’m not going to be sweet and quiet and polite so you’ll like me.”

Alastor laughed—actually laughed. “Darling, I prefer you like this. Angry. Spiteful. Full of fire. I don’t want a polite child—I want you. All of you. Brat and all.”

Takuma’s breath caught in his throat.

“You can throw every tantrum you like,” Alastor continued, tucking the blanket tighter around him. “I’ve got all the time in the world to earn your trust back. And I will. Because you’re mine. And I’m never letting you go again.”

Takuma stared, jaw trembling.

“I’ll spoil you so thoroughly, it’ll reach your soul and rot that goodness right out,” Alastor whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. “And when you finally die of old age—because that’s the only way I’ll ever let you go—I’ll be right there waiting to spoil you as a sinner too.”

The anger in Takuma’s chest twisted and suddenly he was moving, clinging to Alastor, face buried in his chest, his body shaking with emotion he couldn’t name.

Alastor held him close, rubbing slow circles against his back, whispering: “There we are… I’ve got you now.”

It was sometime later when everything started to go to shit again.

Alastor’s ear twitched as Vaggie’s grating voice came calling from the lobby.

He glanced toward the door, clearly annoyed. His fingers drummed against the armrest before he looked at Takuma again, now bundled up and lying tucked under thick blankets.

“Vaggie’s calling a meeting. I imagine she’s in need of my services,” he said reluctantly. “I won’t be long. When I return, we can play a board game or read together, whichever you’d like.”

To his surprise, Takuma stirred more than expected.

“I want to see Charlie.”

Alastor froze. “Absolutely not. You’re still recovering. You need rest, hydration, and warmth—not social calls.”

Takuma narrowed his eyes. “You get to go wherever you want.”

Alastor’s brow arched and walked over to tuck him back in. “Yes, because I am not concussed, hypothermic, or recovering from an animal attack.”

He leaned over, brushing his fingers through Takuma’s curls. “Stay put, when I return, I’ll read a book, any book you like.”

With a kiss to the forehead, he whispered, “I’ll be back soon, darling. Be good.”

And then he disappeared into his shadows. Takuma lay in bed for all of three seconds before pushing the blanket down, rubbing at where Alastor had laid his kiss, feeling annoyed at how warm it made him.

Get a grip!

Then he grumbled and pushed himself back up. “Yeah, fuck that and your rules.”

Slowly, stubbornly, he sat up, wobbling as he swung his legs over the side. His head throbbed, his limbs protested but none of that mattered. Because he was going to do what he wanted, even if it hurt.

His body was just exhausted, nothing that he couldn’t handle, and a limp from busting his knee when he rolled down that hill. Alastor didn’t need to know about that, though. He did decide against the stairs and went towards the rickety elevator. Takuma leaned against the wall and closed his eyes against the headache, a part of him—a very small part of him—thought Alastor might not have been wrong about staying in bed.

When the ding of the reached floor went off, it made Takuma wince in pain before he pushed himself up right. That same small part of him also wished very much for someone with a top hat to be on the other side of the opening doors, to look at him with love and care and a cheesy smile with open arms, to smell apples and something burnt.

No one was there though, and Takuma felt stupid for the hundredth time in so many weeks believing he’d be around to comfort him, when he’d left him alone like every other adult who’d made promises of family and affection.

Takuma sniffed and discreetly wiped his eyes, squinting to try and see. His glasses were still shattered in one lens and Alastor’s magic wasn’t really the fixing type for something so small and delicate.

When he limped out of the elevator, he took note that he’d pressed the wrong button and was on the wrong floor. He groans and turned to go back inside the death trap when he heard crying.

That was Charlie.

Takuma quickly turned and held his hand to the wall, following the sound of Charlie’s cries as he quickly limped to find her.

When he came to her door, he heard Alastor now too.

“Oh, fuck you, Alastor! All you do is stand there, smiling while you watch us struggle and fail!” Charlie exclaimed.

“I don’t know how you can enjoy all this suffering so much.”

Alastor’s more sinister laugh came through clearly as he replied. “Just because you see a smile, don’t think you know what’s going on underneath.”

“A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you’re the one in control.”

“But I’m not,” Charlie lamented. “I’m the farthest thing from in control.”

She ranted more about someone lying to her, about Heaven’s refusal to listen about the hotel working and Adam bringing exorcists to the hotel.

“I know something you don’t know~” Alastor said in song.

Ugh, he’s so corny.

Takuma listened as Alastor went on and felt dread pooling in his stomach, he may be a little kid, but he’d been around enough nasty adults to know when someone was being played.

“How? I’ll do anything.” Charlie begged.

“Anything? Then, let’s make a deal!”

What?!

Takuma almost fell over trying to get to the door, he stopped when he heard Alastor wasn’t going for a soul deal.

“I won’t hurt anyone for you.”

“Who’s asking! One favor, at a time of my choosing, where you harm no one. In return, I tell you what I know. Do we have a deal?” Alastor asked.

“Deal.”

“Charlie no!” Takuma yelped and fell through the door when it opened with a thud. “Oh, fuck.” He whimpered and pushed himself up.

“Takuma?!” two voices rang out and footsteps came towards him.

It was Charlie who picked him up, he could tell by her scent and warmth as she hugged him close. “Oh, Takuma, I was worried I’d never get to see you again.” She cried and squeezed him just a bit too tight, making him yelped in pain.

“Oh no! You’re hurt.” She gasped and pulled back to look him over, she was blurry but whole and her touch was soft and gentle.

“I’m okay, just sore and banged up.” He assured her and stood with her help.

“You’re favoring that left knee of yours, is it upsetting you?” Alastor asked gently, suddenly there and close as he bent down to pull up Takuma’s pantleg and check his knee, gentle claws pressing around it and making Takuma suck in a breath.

“J-just bruised, its no big deal.”

Alastor ignored his protests as he picked up Takuma and held him upon his hip like a toddler. “I told you to stay in bed.” He lectured.

Alastor turned to Charlie and held out his hand. “Why don’t we finish what we started, hm? Then I can put our precious little eavesdropper back to bed where he can recover, warm and safe.”

Takuma growled and threw himself forward to grab his hand. “Yeah, deal, I owe you a favor for that information!” he exclaimed and shook the hand, causing the room to ignite in a blast of green, making him wince and close his eyes.

When the lights dissipated, Takuma could feel the quiet rage spilling off of Alastor, but he spoke his secret as agreed. When he was done explaining how to kill an angel, Vaggie burst in the room.

Alastor didn’t leave just yet, but Takuma kept quiet this time as Alastor interrupted Charlie and Vaggie’s argument.

“Wait! What is Takuma doing here?! This hotel is about to be the most dangerous place in Hell!” Vaggie yelled. “And why are you holding him?” she demanded to know, pointing at Alastor.

Alastor cupped the back of Takuma’s head and brought their faces together, rubbing his cheek against Takuma’s. “He was in danger, I went and got him. I’ve decided being a parent is something I’m quite fond of, with such a perfect child as Takuma.” He crooned.

Wow, laying it on a little thick there.

Vaggie was so thrown off by this that she had to leave it alone for now, turning to Charlie. “Please tell me you didn’t make a deal with him!”

Charlie frowned. “I was going to but—”

Takuma cleared his throat. “That uh, that would have been me. I may have been a bit impulsive and got in between them.”

Vaggie rounded on him so fast, Takuma shrank into Alastor’s side in fear. “Getting in between them doesn’t mean selling your soul!”

Alastor chuckled and rubbed at Takuma’s back in comfort. “He’s kept his soul, I have no want to own my child in such a way.”

“Now, my dear Charlie, before we make our way to Cannibal Town. Why don’t you explain to our dearest Vaggie what her job is, and I’ll put our precious mortal down for his nap.” Alastor advised and didn’t wait for an answer as he vanished into his shadows with Takuma in tow.

When they reappeared in his suite, Takuma thought he’d be tossed onto the bed and yelled at, or maybe Alastor would seethe and rant his regrets for bringing him here.

Instead, Alastor walked quietly over to his bed, setting Takuma down with the same level of care he’s shown since Takuma got here. He had him drink some water before tucking him back into bed and turning to grab a little doll that looked like it was supposed to be Alastor, it was hard to tell without glasses though.

“Aren’t you angry at me?” Takuma asked quietly, waiting for that shoe to drop.

“Oh, I’m ridiculously angry right now.” Alastor replied and sat beside him on the bed. “But I also know you did it out of both a sense of loyalty to Charlie and a need to piss me off. While I am livid by your interference, I can live with the fact you foiled a long-hatched plan of mine so easily, to be honest I’m a bit proud! Less so when I know it was from a place of heroics and self-sacrifice. Considering I’m trying to turn you towards the path of evil, that is the wrong direction I wanted you to go.” He explained at length and reached out to gently rub at the space between Takuma’s brows, where tension had built from trying to see without his glasses.

Takuma melted just a little, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something to ease his headaches and closed his eyes. Alastor hummed that lullaby again, running a clawed thumb over his brow with just the right amount of pressure to pull at the sting of his strained eyes.

“Now, about our deal.” Alastor purred and leaned down over Takuma’s prone form.

Takuma hummed sleepily, pulled into a sense of security so deep that he couldn’t feel the rage building around him, because Alastor didn’t direct it at his child.

“From now on, Takuma. You will never involve yourself in one of my dealings with other demons or adults, ever again. Is that understood?” he asked.

Takuma blinked awake just enough to nodded his understanding, the deal fulfilled around them as exhaustion took hold of Takuma again.

“That’s a good boy.” Alastor cooed and planted a kiss on his cheek before wrapping him up and standing from the bed.

“Sleep tight my darling. I’ll be back soon.” He whispered and turned out the lights, letting the fire be the only flicker in the room to keep it warm and cozy for his little mortal.

The next few weeks went by in nothing more than sleeping, eating, and being bored out of his mind.

“Alastor, if you make me play Mahjong one more time, I’m going to throw myself into your fireplace.” Takuma threatened when Alastor brought out the pieces for the fourth night in a row.

“Our fireplace, darling.” The Radio Demon corrected and continued to set up the pieces. “We’re tied so far, I think I feel my luck changing.” He teased.

Takuma flopped back onto the fainting couch, glaring at the ceiling. He was at least glad Charlie had taken his glasses and got them fixed.

“I’m so bored, Alastor!” he exclaimed and pulled at his curls. “Three and a half weeks ago, I was hiking through national forest and living off the land. Now I’m lazing around in your—”

“Our.”

“Ugh, our room all day. I’ve read all the books you’ve brought me.”

“Hm, yes you do have a knack for fast reading. I hadn’t anticipated that.” Alastor agreed as he started setting up his mahjong pieces without a care.

“Meanwhile, Charlie and the others are getting ready to fight literal Heaven from destroying the hotel and killing all of us. I’m fine now, I can help!”

Alastor didn’t even look up, this argument was something on repeat between the two of them for quite some time now. “Grab your pieces, darling.” He said instead.

Takuma looked up and glared at him, grabbing a throw pillow and making good on its name.

One of Alastor’s tendrils grabbed the pillow midair and set it back down. Alastor finally looked up at his annoyed little mortal. “Careful not to start something you’re not willing to finish.”

Takuma continued to glare. “Oh yeah? What’re you going to do about it?” he taunted.

The Radio Demon stared him down for a solid five minutes, but Takuma refused to squirm. Alastor wouldn’t hurt him, he knew that much. These last few weeks of one on one time had definitely proven that Alastor had no intention of losing interest or letting him go. No amount of whining, arguing, yelling or tantrums thrown seemed to shake Alastor from his resolve, in fact it just made him all the more gleeful that Takuma was being less than good.

He watched Alastor finally stand from his armchair and walk around the coffee table to come and sit behind him. Takuma blinked in confusion and looked up at him upside down.

Alastor’s sharp grin became soft and pleased, his claws gentle checking his head as he always did multiple times a day, before suddenly grabbing him under his arms and yanking him into his lap. Once there, those deadly claws glided gently over ribs and poked his belly, making him yelp and twist to get free, no fucking way was he getting tickled by a demon.

“H-hey! Stop it!” he squealed and tried to grab at Alastor’s wrists, but nothing was stopping the older man and soon Takuma couldn’t hold back his peels of laughter, a snort came out as well as he flailed about and tried to break free.

“No more please!” he begged and tried to crawl away, only to be pulled back in again.

When tears stained his cheeks, Alastor finally stopped and used a handkerchief to wipe his face. The demon pulled him close for a hug, Takuma limp in his arms as he tried to catch his breath.

“No more talks about the extermination, I’ll not hear another word about you being involved in any of it.” Alastor ordered, petting the boy’s curls back into place.

Takuma panted into his shoulder and let himself be manhandled around and his glasses fixed. “That wasn’t fair.” He accused.

Alastor shrugged and rubbed their noses together. “When did I ever say I was fair?” he teased.

But Takuma wasn’t done with this just yet. “But what if… what if you die?” he asked, his voice small and fear crawling up his throat.

“My dear boy! Have a bit more faith in me, no one has been able to take me out yet and no first man will get the chance!” Alastor cheered.

“Why, we’ll be done with this by dinner, and I’ll have a nice angelic steak. Oh, I hear if a mortal drinks angelic blood you turn immortal, maybe its something to try!” Alastor pondered and pulled Takuma more comfortably into his lap.

“Well, if you’re so put off by mahjong, I suppose we’ll just read a book together.” He hummed and summoned one of the Sherlock Holmes books.

Takuma sighed in defeat and leaned back against Alastor. This was more of a win than he’d let on, Alastor never picked Sherlock Holmes unless he was admitting a small amount of defeat himself.

“The Speckled Band? We’ve read this one, can’t we read the Hound of the Baskervilles?” He asked.

Alastor sighed and the book changed. “They shoot the dog, correct?”

“Yeah, at the end.”

“Good.”

They cuddled on the couch for a while, reading silently but together. Alastor was a skimmer, and Takuma read fast so there was no need to ask for the page to be turned. But Takuma was barely reading, off in his own emotions and head today.

He missed Lucifer more and more every day. When Alastor wasn’t in the room, he pulled the apple scented blanket out and wrapped himself in it. He knew it wasn’t helping, Lucifer probably forgot all about him. But Takuma hadn’t forgotten him, the one person who’d changed his world and made all this possible. He had to have liked him, even for just a little while. Takuma just wanted him to come back and hug him and tell him how much he missed him too.

Alastor sighed again and closed the book, Takuma blinked back to the present as he was shifted like he weighed nothing, turned around and brought to eye level with the demon. “You’re more melancholy than usual. Care to share with the class?”

Takuma looked away, embarrassed and ashamed. Alastor was taking care of him, being everything he needed and more. Yet all Takuma could think about was Lucifer.

“Come now, I won’t be offended, tell me what’s on your mind.” Alastor insisted and tried to catch his eye.

Takuma frowned and tried to squirm free, but that only compelled Alastor to chuckle. “You know how I feel about the silent treatment.”

Takuma gave in and sighed. “I miss Lucifer.” He answered and bit his lip.

Alastor’s eyes widened briefly before allowing Takuma to sit in his lap. “I know, darling,” he murmured. “I… suppose his presence was tolerable, and the absence is noted.”

Takuma had to smirk at that. “Wow, coming from you, that’s huge. You must have really liked him trying to kiss you all the time.”

“I—that is to say—you brat!” Alastor screeched and tickled the boy mercilessly.

Takuma laughed and begged for him to stop, “You said you wouldn’t be offended!” he cried.

The demon huffed and released him onto the couch. “I am not offended, bratty behavior is met with extreme prejudice.”

Takuma chuckled and crawled over to put his head in Alastor’s lap, immediately claws were petting his hair.

“I just… miss him so much.”

“I know, but the deal is still in effect, and he can’t go against it. And I won’t let you go again.”

Takuma groaned and turned so he could look up at Alastor. “But they said they didn’t want me!”

Alastor fixed Takuma’s nightshirt from riding up. “They said that, exactly?”

Takuma rolled his eyes. “Being called a psycho and them saying I should be a psych ward heavily implies it, plus saying they were gunna call my case worker.”

The Radio Demon’s eyes went black, and his form went rigid. “They called you what?”

Takuma shrugged. “The husband implied that I was probably going to kill them, that I’d killed before and that I didn’t need a family, I needed to be locked up.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Alastor seethed, the shadows starting to collect around them, green magic pushing up all around.

“But you can’t go to the human realm.” Takuma reminded him, unbothered by his display, still laying half in his lap.

Alastor’s animal sounds started to come through, Takuma sighed and pushed himself up to hug him, resting his chin against the demon’s chest so he could look at him. “It’s fine, people have said worse things about me.”

“That is never fine.” Alastor argued, curling around him. “I’ll make them pay, anyone who’s hurt you, I’ll feast on their organs and broadcast their screams to their families.”

Takuma shouldn’t feel so warm about his words, that should be concerning. “It doesn’t matter now, I’m here, I’m safe.”

Alastor seems to very reluctantly pull himself back together and buried his face in soft curls.  “Understand that, going forward, anyone who disrespects you, disrespects me. I will not be stopped from enacting consequences for such things. And you will not be able to stop me.” He warned, his voice was still sharp and angry.

“Even if I ask nicely?” Takuma hedged and yelped when the arms around him tighten just a tad too much.

“No.” Alastor hissed before releasing his hold and kissing the top of his boy’s head as an apology.

Takuma stayed quiet, thinking it better not to bring up Lucifer anymore and just soak up Alastor’s attention before he had to leave again to work on whatever they were doing.

He just hoped whatever it was, it worked.

Rosie was not stupid, she may play ditsy well, but she knew when something was up, and black sockets were set on Alastor.

Sure, nothing had changed in the way he to acted around everyone, including herself. His love of cruelty and enjoyment for torment was still the same. The only reason he’d come to her for this little job, was due to a favor he owed long ago. And this in with the princess was exactly what she wanted, and he knew that.

But when her wall clock chimed, when he checked his watch and stood, bidding her goodbye, she saw the little shift in his smile before his shadows took him away.

“So, Alastor. I didn’t think you were interested in takin’ a lover.” She teased one day.

Alastor stopped short for a moment, his expression confused even with that wide smile. “I’m not particularly in the market for one, no.” he replied as his tendrils moved things about.

“Oh? Then why the sappy face everyday at twelve? Like ya got a lunch date with a sweetie.” She probed.

Alastor was an expert in hiding his every move, but you didn’t get to become an Overlord of an entire township by not catching on to things.

“I do not have anyone I’m sweet on, my dear. I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re on about.”

Rosie would have dropped it for now, waited until Alastor had a bit of drink in him to loosen his tongue by a small margin. But then she watched his ears swivel, as though someone called to him, yet no one around them had.

Alastor excused himself suddenly and disappeared, but Rosie would not be taken for a fool. She walked by the hotel’s residence, no one but Husk paid her any attention, but he always kept his mouth shut and Rosie followed Alastor’s scent to his suite.

Of course, the door had wards and ways to keep someone like her out, but she had known Alastor for a very long time and could manipulate them if she tried hard enough, which is exactly what she did and broke through the wards and opened the door.

There in the middle of the room before Alastor, was a human child. Soft well-maintained curls, bright blue eyes behind round wire framed glasses on a face with high cheek bones yet soft features. A bit banged up on his cute little head and some bruises fading to green but healthy otherwise.

But what was cinching this in for her was how Alastor reacted immediately.

The boy had a glass of water in his hands when she burst through the door. He yelped in surprise as the shadows swallowed him up and his water spilled where he once was. Alastor stalked towards her with obvious malice.

“Oh, my stars, you’re a daddy?!”

Alastor ears were flat against his skull. “No, I’m fattening the boy up to eat him!” he exclaimed.

The bathroom door creaked open, and the boy peaked out. “Um, I’m pretty sure Charlie wouldn’t like that.”

Alastor growled. “Takuma, when I hide you, you are meant to stay hidden.”

Takuma shrank back a little, because that was a correction. “Sorry…”

Rosie cooed but didn’t move from her spot, seeing how Alastor was wholly ready to rip her apart if she took one step towards the tiny thing. “Don’t be mean ta him, Alastor. I’m not gunna hurt ya precious boy. Aww, let me meet him!”

Alastor shoulders sagged just a tad, and she immediately pranced over and pulled the boy out of the bathroom. “Oh, he’s beautiful Alastor. I didn’t think you had a parental bone in your body! Is he half demon from a tryst? Did you get him in a deal you made? Give me the details!”

Takuma winced at her touch and Alastor was immediately in between them, picking up the boy as though he was a toddler and not half grown.

Alastor checked him over, careful claws and gentle looks shared for a brief moment before he straightened and angled himself in front of Rosie and Takuma behind him on his hip.

My stars, I never could have imagined.

“Rosie, this is my son, Takuma.” He introduced and Rosie caught the way Takuma looked up at him, the big starry eyes and blush.

“Takuma, this is Rosie, Overlord and Mayor of Cannibal Town.”

Rosie didn’t have to bow here like she did with Charlie, no need to butter the boy up unless it was to bake.

“Hello dear, you’re beautiful. I’d think you were a doll if you didn’t smell delicious.” She greeted him.

Takuma scrunched up his face but gave a polite. “It’s nice to meet you, Rosie.”

Both Overlord’s chuckled at the exchange and the tension seemed to bleed away. Without anymore fanfare, both demons took seats in the armchairs and Alastor kept Takuma in his lap.

Protective thing, aren’t ya?

“Is he why you were gone for seven years?” Rosie asked, watching with mirth as the boy bristled.

“Do I look seven? I’m thirteen!”

Rosie laughed behind her hand. “Oh, but he’s so small Alastor, he needs ta eat more. Does he get enough demon meat? Or is he just drinking blood right now?”

Takuma went green and Alastor laughed while rubbing his back in soothing motions. “He’s a vegetarian I’m afraid, I’ve had to research the right protein for a growing boy. He’s a bit sensitive about meat right now, though I believe it’s just a phase.”

Takuma looked so shocked by this turn of events he couldn’t react other than take the coddling by Alastor.

“… Can I have my water now?”

Alastor snapped his fingers and fresh glass of water was in hand that he turned over to Takuma. “My apologies, darling.”

“Why do you keep grabbing the giant glasses? I’ve seen the normal sized ones, I know you have them!”

Alastor’s glee was obvious as he put his chin on top of the Takuma’s head. “You look tiny compared, I can’t resist.”

Rosie spoke up to bring the conversation back on track. “So, you called him your son. You’ve never been interested in children, yet here you are a doting daddy. Spill dear.”

Alastor sighed. “Nothing so dramatic, Rosie dear. He needed me and I decided he was mine, I’ve been raising him for a year now almost.”

“So, adoption then, that makes sense. You’ve kept this very quiet, I imagine he doesn’t come with ways to protect himself?”

Alastor shook his head and watched Takuma put his glass down on the coffee table before settling back into his lap, obviously put out that he had to sit here but smart enough to realize why. “He’s entirely human, I was traveling between the mortal realm and here so he wouldn’t be in Hell, but things changed, and I will not be allowing him to wander far from my side.”

“It’s really great to be talked about like I’m not here.” Takuma grumped, arms crossed.

Rosie chuckled. “He’s got spunk.” She praised.

Alastor’s grin was full of pride. “Yes, doesn’t he? I’m raising him to be absolutely rotten. He’s a good boy you see, so I’d hate to see him go to Heaven, such wasted potential, when he could be a menace with me.”

Rosie laughed and agreed. “You with a real partner in crime, that’ll be a sight!”

Alastor nodded and fixed Takuma’s vest and pulled him from his slouched position. “He’ll be perfect, but until then I shall spoil him and tend to him.”

Rosie hummed and her smile went a little wrong. “This is a big secret, I am afraid it’ll cost ya.”

Alastor hummed, unperturbed, because he knew this the moment Rosie barged in.

Takuma looked upset by this and at once turned to look at Alastor. “I’m sorry, this my fault—”

Alastor hushed him and cradled his face. “Nonsense, I knew the risks. I’m the adult here, you are not responsible for relying on me.” He corrected gently.

Takuma’s look didn’t seem to agree with Alastor’s statement, and he turned to Rosie, whose grin grew wider at the thought of a little Alastor pleading with her, however magic clammed down over Takuma mouth, his yelp was muffled as he grabbed at his face, a bit panicked the poor thing.

Alastor shushed him again, gently carding claws with curls and murmured softly into Takuma’s ear until the boy calmed down again and the band disappeared.

“We made that deal, darling, and you can’t go against it. Don’t try that again, I do hate to see you in distress.” Alastor admonished and kissed the boy’s forehead.

Takuma’s face was still a bit panicked, so Alastor was more inclined to finish up this social call. “Another favor for your silence?” he asked Rosie.

Rosie nodded and held out her hand. “Same parameters as before, Alastor.”

They shook quickly, their magic making the room shake for a moment before receding. Rosie had got more than she thought she would have out of this venture and was pleased, so she stood to make her way out.

“When all this nasty business is said and done, bring the little one over to my emporium. We’ll sit and have some tea, he’s such a lovely thing!” she called out and left.

Alastor made sure the door was locked behind her before he focused on Takuma who was in the middle of a panic attack.

“Breathe with me, I want you to name five things from each of your senses, can you do that for me, darling?” he soothed making sure to mimic breathing for Takuma to follow along with.

“I hear the radio,” Takuma gasped out and grabbed Alastor’s claws, which curled around his hands. “I feel your gloves,” he went on his tone shaky but made himself open his eyes. “I see your ears.” He added and Alastor smiled for him and his ear swiveled.

“I smell your cologne.” He went on and added quickly. “The water always has a sulfur taste to it.”

“We’re in Hell, no spring water here I’m afraid.”

They sat in silence for a time, Takuma calming down and Alastor holding his hands still while rubbing circles into the back of them.

“That hurt.” Takuma hiccuped.

Alastor brought their foreheads together. “That is the price of a deal made, it isn’t like the one you made with Lucifer. True deals are only meant to be pleasant for the one receiving the benefits.” He explained gently and added with some conviction, “I want you to remember this, the next time you feel inclined to give yourself up for someone else’s desperation.”

“Would you like to take a nap? I’m sure that was a bit too much excitement for your tired frame.” He offered.

But Takuma shook his head, “I don’t need to pass out every time I have a panic attack. I used to get them all the time in a new school. I’d hide in the bathroom until I had it under control and then go back to class.”

Alastor couldn’t fathom how someone who looked so fragile and broken a moment ago could say he did that alone several times a day and never had someone to hold him and sooth him through it. That feral part of his mind reared up loudly and he could only pull Takuma close as he tried to calm himself down.

Mine. You are mine. I’ll protect you, I’ll nurture you. Mine.

Small fingers reached up and touched his ears, making him blink out of his stupor to look at Takuma in surprise.

The boy looked back and blushed. “Is this not, okay? You always pet my hair when I’m freaking out, so I thought—”

Alastor chuckled and nuzzled into Takuma’s space, feeling the animal inside him calm breathing in his child’s scent. “It’s fine if you touch my ears, you’re the only one with permission to do so.” He replied.

Takuma looked like he wanted to say something more, but the look turned shy and guarded, and Alastor had learned in these last few weeks was the guard was there when he felt unsure and scared, so he left it be and continued to smother him in affection for a bit longer, before he’d have to return to the job at hand and leave him alone for a few more hours.

Another day passed and Charlie came through Alastor’s door bearing gifts, food and sodas to spend an hour with Takuma. The hotel was a mess of training, stockpiling weapons and fortifying all doors and windows. But she and Alastor agreed that this wasn’t something Takuma should see or be involved in.

Charlie felt bad though, about making Takuma feel like a prisoner in Alastor’s room. She’d argued a little about it with Alastor, who hadn’t felt a bit of guilt. She’d pointed out he could stay in her room too, a change of scenery, especially since she had an actual window to look out of. Alastor didn’t budge and when she pushed too hard, he’d drawn a line stating Takuma wasn’t going anywhere Alastor couldn’t or wasn’t able to grab if there was trouble.

Charlie had to back off for now, and she both felt frustrated but also a little happy.

Despite what everyone thought, she knew Alastor wasn’t here for any good reason, and now she knew it wasn’t even his choice to be here. But the more he spent time with Takuma, the better he seemed to be as a person.

Sure, you should want to change for yourself, people shouldn’t change for others. But this was Alastor becoming a dad, he looked at Takuma like he was something to protect. He softened his edges for Takuma where normally he’d laugh at you if you got too close and cut yourself.

Alastor could believe what he wanted about redemption, but if Takuma went to Heaven when he died, Charlie would make sure Alastor got to join him. She’d argue that his love and fatherly affection showed real change and a step toward redeeming his soul.

“Hi Charlie.” Takuma greeted her, and Charlie pulled herself to the present.

“Hi sweetie! I brought some stuff for you!” She cheered and revealed a sketchbook and pens.

Takuma didn’t react how she expected him to though, no quiet excitement or eager thank yous. He still took the gift and helped her with the food and drinks, moving towards the sitting area and putting everything on the coffee table.

“You haven’t been to the art room, Alastor said you weren’t up for it, so I thought I’d bring you some to use here.” Charlie pushed and took a seat next to him.

Takuma nodded along and smiled. “Yeah, sounds great, thanks.” He replied and flopped the gift onto the coffee table.

Charlie frowned but continued on, bringing something else. “And since Alastor is being a jerk, I brought my laptop, and I have a bunch of movies we can watch together!”

Takuma did perk up at that and leaned close to see what she had, Charlie grinned and set the laptop on his lap, telling him to pick while she got the blankets and pillows. She went over to Alastor’s bed that now had stuffed toys and soft blankets scattered around it—

Don’t you dare tell me Alastor isn’t becoming a better person because of Takuma! This was once a bachelor’s room and now there’s kids’ stuff everywhere. He’s an adorable dad!

She grabbed the softer blankets and a few pillows before coming back over and wrapping them both up together. “Oh, Brother Bear! I haven’t seen this one yet, but the bears look so cute!”

By the time the movie ended, Takuma was really happy to see Alastor materialize back into the room.

“His brother died and h-his other brother almost killed him! And Koda’s moooom.” Charlie wailed and hugged Takuma tight.

“You’re my Koda, TK, I love you!” She cried and her grip grew tighter, making Takuma wince and look to Alastor for help.

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes and stepped in like a savior with flair. “Now, my dear, don’t you think it’s high time we considered ordering dinner for the hotel? We wouldn’t want a mutiny on our hands.”

Charlie sniffled and eased her grip, and Takuma looked noticeably less blue. “Oh, yeah. It’s getting close to that time. I’ll order pizza.”

She turned toward her baby brother with a gentle smile. “Veggie pizza for you, right?”

“Yes, please,” Takuma said with a small smile

Charlie beamed and gave him another quick squeeze before grabbing the laptop. “Alastor, Takuma gets to eat downstairs with the rest of us. He’s not your prisoner,” she teased over her shoulder as she left, shutting the door before he could retort.

Takuma watched Alastor’s ears twitch—he was beginning to recognize that subtle tic. It meant the demon wanted to throw an eldritch fit but was trying very hard not to.

“You look like you bit a lemon.” He taunted.

Alastor turned his red eyes on him with mock severity, scanning him head to toe. “And you, my darling, look as though you’ve just tumbled out of a haystack. I may have allowed you to sleep in—yes, yes, and Angel delivered breakfast—but why, pray tell, is your hair a catastrophe?”

Takuma flushed and pulled the blanket over his head. “I just didn’t feel like doing it.”

Alastor’s grin grew impossibly wide, full of knowing mischief. “Ohhh? Were you waiting for me to pamper you?”

“… No.” he grumped and pulled the blanket tighter.

Alastor laughed outright and snapped his fingers, the jasmine oils on the coffee table and the brushes in hand. “Truly, you are the most spoiled of little gremlins. Now, up with you. Sit straight. Off with the blanket. You know this takes time, especially since you refuse to wear the bonnet.”

“I don’t need a bonnet!”

More laughter—warm, amused, and unbothered. Alastor removed his shoes, jacket, and gloves with practiced ease, letting his shadows collect and tidy them away. He rolled up his sleeves and settled behind Takuma, cross-legged on the couch, pulling the boy gently into his lap and tugging the blanket from his head.

“You have hair much like my Maman’s,” he mused. “A glorious crown of curls that demands both respect and maintenance. And yes, she insisted on a bonnet. I expect you to follow suit.”

As Alastor worked, carefully oiling and detangling each curl, he felt the tension bleeding from Takuma’s small frame. Despite the fuss and grumbles, the boy leaned into his touch, relaxed.

“If you needed my help,” Alastor murmured, “all you had to do was call for me.”

The boy was quiet as he worked, he did enjoy this little moment they shared.

“You’re busy, I can’t pull you away whenever I want.” Takuma mumbled.

Alastor gently tilted his chin back, so their eyes met. His smile softened, just slightly.

“Darling, I insist that you bother me. Be as demanding and incorrigible as you please. I will always oblige.”

Takuma looked a little lost at his words before forcing his head away and looking forward. “Are you going to finish more hair or not?”

Alastor chuckled, his claws returning to their work. “As you wish. Anything for you.”

When the curls were finally tamed, Takuma stubbornly refused to move from his lap. Alastor didn’t push, he simply smiled and pulled him close, arms wrapping around his boy in a gentle hug.

Takuma paced the suite, unable to sit and do nothing with the knowledge everyone in the hotel was trying to keep themselves alive.

He understood they had an advantage now, angelic steel killing the angelic, ironic. But they weren’t an army, even with the cannibals, no one else came to help.

Which was bullshit!

Charlie was trying to stop them all from dying and the rest of the Pride Ring just dips.

Fuck them!

And he was completely useless, locked away in Alastor’s room, just meant to twiddle his thumbs and wait to see if they all survive. Alastor can act as prideful as he wants, Angel Dust made it clear this was bad and to run for the Morningstar estate if things took a bad turn.

Takuma felt sick to his stomach, he’d barely been able to eat dinner with everyone last night. Alastor kept pushing food onto his plate and cracking jokes about being short forever if he didn’t eat. He’d been unable to sleep either, nothing Alastor did made him calm down, so they curled up on the couch and read a book together. He’d told Alastor to just get some sleep, he didn’t need to watch over him, but the demon just reminded that he didn’t need sleep the same way Takuma did and that was that.

Takuma kicked at the couch before sitting down with a slump. He should have felt safe here. Alastor made this place a haven.

But dread only filled him up, a premonition of something bad about to happen, because when you grow up feeling everything around you, you could tell when nothing was right.

Just as his brain went into a spiral of worry, something inside snapped—not a sound, not really. More like a pulse or a tether pulling tight.

Takuma jolted from his seat and grabbed his chest, his breath caught in his throat, heart slamming into his ribs as Lucifer’s magic spread through him like wildfire.

“Oh my God.” He murmured, staring at nothing.

The deal was reactivated. The family had finally let him go, gave him up to the state.

That means I have his powers back… that I’m a Morningstar.

“Well, on paper, at least.” He corrected himself, it remained to be seen if Lucifer wanted him still.

But that didn’t matter right now, because the building and the walls around him trembled, enough that it knocked him off balance.

They were going to take the whole hotel out!

Takuma couldn’t sit around anymore, and he wouldn’t.

“I’m not sitting this one out,” he muttered. “I’m done being the kid left behind.”

He ran towards the door when an idea popped into his head and he snapped his fingers, his comfortable clothes changed into something that would be easier to run in, the shoes had a bit of magic in them too, making him faster and take less energy to run fast. With that he was out the door, sprinting towards the stairs and up them.

Takuma’s lungs burned as he tore up the stairwell, legs screaming with each step. The walls rattled from above—flashes of white light cracked through the gaps in the doors. He wished he knew how teleporting worked, but that wasn’t something to worry about now.

He was almost there.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

He reached the final door to the rooftop and hesitated, his hand trembling as he gripped the handle. Voices rang out beyond it—shouts, the telltale pull of Alastor’s magic, he opened the door and peaked outside, saw Alastor up against a big guy with wings, Adam then.

Alastor was holding up well.

Until he wasn’t.

Takuma watched as Alastor’s staff was broken in half, and Adam geared up to end the demon. Terror shot through Takuma and slammed the door open and ran at Alastor as fast as he could.

He lifted his fingers and snapped—the only thought he had was—please be something that could block an attack from Adam.

A searing heat flashed up his arm—and in the next moment, a massive golden shield slammed into existence, strapping itself tight across his forearm.

He thought there was shouting, but he couldn’t make it out, all he knew was he needed to protect.

He slid in front of the blast from—a guitar seriously? The impact knocked the wind from his lungs. His shield sparked against the divine force but held. Light fractured around him like glass, searing his eyes—

Then came the pain.

CRACK.

The shield held. His arm didn’t.

The bone in his forearm snapped like a twig, the shock was so sharp and sudden it didn’t register until he was flying backward, hurtling into Alastor with the force of the blast.

“Takuma!” Alastor shouted, catching him in a blur of green magic and shadow as they crashed together.

And then the rooftop vanished.

The world flipped upside down.

They were falling.

Takuma couldn’t breathe—he was dizzy, pain screaming up his arm. But Alastor’s arms were around him, the familiar hum of his static curling like a cocoon.

Alastor grunted, twisted in the air, and slammed his shoes into the wall of the hotel, slowing their descent in a blur of magic and weak shadows.

They landed hard in the courtyard—Alastor cushioning the blow with a final burst of shadows, shielding Takuma’s body with his own.

Everything went quiet.

Takuma lay there in Alastor’s arms, gasping, the shield still strapped to his broken arm holding it at an awkward angle.

“…That was insanely reckless,” Alastor rasped, voice shaking. “You could’ve been killed.”

Takuma coughed, winced, and looked up at him through bleary eyes. “But I wasn’t.”

Alastor looked at him like he’d never seen anything more maddening—or more beloved.

When Alastor tried to shift, helping him upright, pain ripped through him like lightning. He screamed, a raw animal sound tore from his throat as his body seized up, the scream turning into gasps. His ears rang. Everything spun.

He was going to throw up.

“Takuma—Takuma, darling, look at me—” Alastor’s voice cut through the ringing just enough, more desperate now.

Takuma couldn't move, tried to motion to the shield, and suddenly it vanished from his arm in a flicker of magic. Claws, careful but still too sharp, touched his elbow and shoulder, shifting him gently as Alastor tried to help him sit up.

He whimpered, dizzy and nauseous, bile rising in his throat.

Focus. Just focus.

He blinked hard, tried to breathe through it, and rasped, barely audible:

“…Broke… my arm.”

With strained brightness, Alastor muttered, “Oh, and here I thought screaming in agony was just your new bit.”

Takuma would’ve laughed if he wasn’t seconds from passing out.

Alastor crouched beside him, all his humor vanishing in a blink, not even his ever present grin could hide his panic. “Right. Okay. Up we go, slowly now,” he murmured, voice tighter than he ever let it get. One arm scooped under Takuma’s knees, the other behind his back, avoiding the broken limb completely.

Takuma hissed and clenched his jaw as he was lifted, the world tilting wildly.

“Shhh, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Alastor whispered, mostly for himself.

His eyes darted wildly around the courtyard. The hotel behind them is still under attack, still surrounded by enemies. Heaven’s forces were pushing inward.

“Where—where to—fuck—where do I—” Alastor muttered, not realizing he’d sworn.

Takuma tried to speak but slumped weakly against him, breath shallow and skin cold.

Alastor’s grip tightened.

“Hang on, my boy. We’ll fix this. I swear it.”

Above them beasts in the air roared and flew passed, the battle raged on whether they two were ready or not.

Angel Dust came into view, skidding to a halt with frantic eyes. “Oh, thank fuck he don’t listen worth shit! I thought Radio really was dead.” He panted and turned to shoot his tommy gun at an exorcist.

Takuma watched golden blood splatter in the rubble and asked. “Where’s Charlie?”

Alastor turned and shielded his view of the sky. “Charlie is fighting, everything is going to be fine.”

Angel winced. “I really hate ta ruin your bubble of safety, but if Charlie dies, we’re all dead, including Radio Baby. Smiles, we need ta get back up there, do yous need a hand or three?”

Alastor glared at him. “You can go, I will be taking Takuma somewhere safe.”

Takuma gripped Alastor’s shoulder and forced himself up to see passed him, and he gasped. “Charlie!” he screamed, seeing Adam have her by the throat.

Alastor pulled him down and covered his face, the exorcist surrounding them.

“Dad?”

“Sorry I wasn’t here sooner, sweetie.” Lucifer replied.

Takuma and Alastor turned to watch the King of Hell put Charlie on her feet, the three shared a look and Alastor sighed, vanishing the three of them back to the roof. He staggered when they reappeared, and Takuma touched his face in concern.

Alastor gave him a smile. “Nothing to worry about, darling.” He murmured.

Adam crawled out of the skylight, panting. “Okay seriously, how many more freaks to I have to fight?”

Lucifer chuckled and rolled up his sleeves and walked up to Adam, “Oh I’m the only one that matters,” he growled.

“See, you messed with my daughter, and now I am going to fuck you!”

Takuma scrunched up his face. “Ew.”

“It’s fuck you up, Dad.” Charlie winced.

“Wait, what did I say?” Lucifer asked.

After that it was like watching a toddler try to fight a Canadian goose, painful and you knew how it would end.

Alastor was not in the mood to stick around and watch, Takuma protested but when Adam’s blast hit the hotel, Alastor pulled from an empty cup and had them disappear into the shadows, finding somewhere safe for his boy.

“There now, while the King of Hell has his fun, let me see your arm.” He murmured and removed his own jacket that he used to make a sling for Takuma’s arm.

“He came, he protected Charlie.” Takuma said, smiling.

“Yes, he did manage show up just in the nick of time.”

“The deal reactivated.” Takuma told him.

“I gathered that as well, what with a shield popping into existence.” Alastor replied and picked him back up in a cradle.

Takuma laid his head against Alastor’s shoulder. “You were really cool, with all your tentacles—”

“Tendrils, darling, tendrils.”

Takuma chuckled weakly and his eye lids drooped. “Lucifer looked really cool too.”

The world went dim for a while, a moment of respite from the pain. Takuma wasn’t sure how long he was out of it when he felt hands touching his face.

He blinked awake and saw Charlie with tears in her eyes. “I was so scared you’d gone down with the hotel.” She cried and kissed his forehead.

“Takuma?”

Lucifer.

Alastor still held Takuma close and shifted away from the King of Hell protectively.

Lucifer’s face fell as he came closer, “I felt our deal. I was going to come get you when I finished here. What—how did you?”

Charlie touched her dad’s shoulder. “Alastor went and got him a month ago. It’s a good thing he did—Takuma ran away. He was nearly eaten by a mountain lion.” She explained.

Lucifer’s face was overridden by guilt and fear, he reached out and grabbed Takuma’s face. “No, my boy, you were supposed to be safe.”

Takuma blinked up at him. “They didn’t want me.” He whispered.

Lucifer’s sorrow was etched into the downturn of his mouth, he lifted one hand away from Takuma and snapped his fingers. Golden light flashed and the adoption paperwork floated midair, a second later Lucifer’s name scrawled against it.

“You’ll never know that feeling again, little one, I promise.” He replied and pulled him into a hug.

Alastor panicked and tried to stop him. “Be careful his arm is broken—”

Lucifer gently ran a claw glowing gold over Takuma’s frame, and the boy sagged in his arms as warm healing overtook him, falling like a led weight in water, Lucifer catching him and holding him close.

“I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.” He assured his son.

Alastor bristled. “You say this now, after I saved his life, no thanks to you!”

The argument was loud and scathing, Charlie jumping in to try and calm everyone’s rage.

Takuma felt light and warm, his favorite scent of apples surrounding him. He sighed into Lucifer’s shoulder, used the last of his awareness to wrap his arms around him and whisper, “I missed you, Dad.”

The fighting stopped in an instant, but Takuma didn’t know why, just sank into unconsciousness and blissful sleep.

Lucifer’s voice broke just slightly. “I missed you too, Duckling.”