Chapter Text
‘And we’re doing it with a smile!’
Lucifer bristles as the Radio Demon emerges out of the shadows beside Charlie who, to his absolute dismay, launches herself at Alastor with a relieved gasp of ‘Oh Al!’ He grimaces at the burst of radio static that accompanies the sudden touch and group hug, but relishes in Alastor’s uncomfortable aura. It brings a sardonic smile to his face, one that blooms to genuine compassion as Charlie waltzes by, Vaggie by her side.
He watches as everyone’s eyes are guided to the newly renovated hotel, mostly all his work of course. His gaze flits between everyone’s eyes, from Charlie’s wide, saccharine contemplation to the bartending sinner’s neutral yet approving observation. The sin of Pride himself feels his chest puff up, leaning on his apple staff with an expression of benevolence. Not just for his hard work, for their hard work. For Charlie’s.
She’s his little girl, alright.
After a long moment of gazing adoringly at the new hotel, Charlie leads the way inside. Lucifer is happy to accompany her, marching alongside Vaggie as the rest of the staff follow in suite. He hears the spider and cat sinner speaking earnestly about how much better the hotel looks with the addition of their blood, sweat and tears (and maybe just a little bit of angelic ichor to fill in the cracks. Not his, obviously!)
Taking a seat by the bar, he watches his daughter and her girlfriend share a small moment of intimacy, their foreheads touching as Charlie clearly bites back a choked sob- for her fallen friend. There’s a large, debonair portrait of Sir Pentious in the lounge, one that Lucifer and Charlie carefully crafted together with their magic combined. ‘Regal and prepared for anything’, Charlie had said with a waver in her voice that broke his heart.
The same one she’s clearly using with her girlfriend at the moment, but just for her. He respects his daughter’s privacy with her significant other and turns toward the bar, blinking back a proud tear at just how strong Charlie is.
She always had been, but now he’s glad to find her surrounded by people who think the same. Like her... girl. Friend.
Oh his Father, he really needs to learn names.
But before his thought can go any further, he feels a divine tug from deep within his soul. It startles him, makes him close his eyes and grip against the bar with his claws- when had they come out? Digging into the wood which peels away so easily for him, like clay under his touch.
Before he can register just what the fuck that meant, a small voice peeps up from his right.
“Uh, you okay there, big daddy?”
The spider guy. Father, these names keep escaping him. He goes to answer as he steadies his footing- opening his eyes to see everyone staring in his general direction.
“I- yeah? Wow you are all looking at. Me. Uh.”
Realisation hits him that he’s gone almost full demonic in appearance, his horns and wings released, eyes alight with red and gold. The smell of sulphur surrounds him, and small glints of yellow lightning trickle off his skin, infecting the bar’s wooden wound with angelic presence. Immediately he snaps himself back to his normal, giving all the eyes an uneasy smile.
“Don’t worry, just had a tier two Dad moment, y’know? Seeing my little girl being taken care of by- V- Charlie's girlfriend! I gotta uh- take a quick call.”
He portals out, but not before meeting the eyes of Alastor. Lucifer makes sure that the last thing the Radio Demon sees is his middle finger before he teleports out of existence.
-
“What was that about?” Charlie asks Vaggie, coming to peer over the damage to the bar. Husk and Angel Dust study the now crushed surface of the once smooth wood, the tingles of angelic electric seeming to spark and lash out at anyone who came close enough.
“I dunno babe,” Vaggie says honestly. “But uh. How are we gonna fix this? Alastor?”
The Radio Demon straightens his posture; never to be caught slacking. But taking a devastating hit from the First Man certainly had some side effects- one being absolute unfiltered agony. Luckily, he’s a master at masking in every degree, though the idea of using what little power he had left to fix the bar has him internally grimacing.
Still, now all eyes are on him, and he has the perfect excuse.
“As much as I’d love to fix the mess Charlie’s father made, my dear, this has angelic properties. I couldn’t fix it even if I tried. No, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask the Devil himself to fix his mistakes- hard concept, I know. But I have faith in Charlie’s abilities to talk him into mending his... physical fumble.”
“Oh!” Charlie seems caught off-guard by Alastor’s subtle notion, which is perfectly planned on his part. She immediately pulls out her phone but seems to halter before she presses ‘call’.
“Oh but... didn’t he say he had a phone call? ... Who’d be calling dad? Oh my gosh Vaggie do you think it’s Mom?!”
“Woah, hey-” Vaggie attempts to calm down Charlie who’s currently beginning to hyperventilate, but Alastor, who feels the need to investigate Lucifer’s ‘phone call’ himself, insists that he be the one to go find the King. He’s met with a suspicious look from Vaggie, but she can hardly fight him on this when she has Charlie to calm down.
Husk catches his eye, then immediately drops it to start making a drink for himself and Angel Dust. He’s noticed it as well, then. Perhaps it’s less of camaraderie and more knowing what the tail-end of a leash looks like. Husk is on his own green, heavy chain, after all. And Alastor...
Well, he’s still figuring how to free himself from his own shackles.
Still, with the current hotel staff busy, Alastor finds he has enough strength to slip into the shadows up to his floor in the hotel. One now he seems to begrudgingly share with the King of Hell himself. Catching himself slouching after the effort of traversing through shadow, he rights himself and wonders to Lucifer’s door.
And it’s as tacky as he thought it would be. A door coloured as a circus tent, with lavish stairs and tawdry barriers. Alastor can’t help but sneer; how the Devil himself could be so obtrusive and dull is something to be studied- but not by himself. No, he has better things to do than critique Lucifer’s tastes in decor- like eavesdropping on a potentially hot topic from Heaven to Hell.
He doubts Lucifer has enough tact to soundproof his room, and so he leans in toward the gaudy door, ears pricked to full attention.
-
Lucifer portals directly into his new room, unfazed by the notable absence of any furniture. He hasn’t had a chance to make his room his very own, aside from the exterior and doorway of course. He has creative liberties, and he intends to use them! When there’s not a terrifying phone call he has to take.
Divinity tugs at him again and he cringes with a far-too-heavy sigh, taking out his phone- and making it disappear. Instead, what appears is a blue portal, sent from Heaven. The only direct link seraphims have to one another. Lucifer can already tell it isn’t Sera, she hasn’t spoken to him in eons and would probably keep it that way. From the insistence of the Divine Calling, he knows it has to be Gabriel or Raphael.
Or both, as two figures come into view of the portal.
Shit.
“Are you alone?” Gabriel asks with scrutiny, while Raphael seems about ready to tear out his throat. He should have seen this coming, in all honesty, but Lucifer isn’t the type to actually think about actions and their consequences- which coincidentally is why he’s down in hell in the first place. He stops himself from worrying his lip, anxiety creeping up his spine.
“You know, every time you ask that, I give the same answer, which is kinda sorta the definition of insanity-”
“Shut up, Lucifer!” Raphael bristles, which takes the topic of conversation away from Gabriel. At least Lucifer can handle Raphael better, the bastard’s short fuse made him obscenely easy to fire up. “Your daughter has made a severe fucking error in judgement. Leading an army against the exorcists? Giving them angelic weapons? Do you have any idea how much shit you and her are in right now?”
Despite the tension rising in his shoulders, Lucifer forces himself to shrug and smile dozily. “Nope! And it can’t be that bad, neither you two are down here.”
Raphael exclaims and gestures furiously at Lucifer to Gabriel, who takes his own turn to clear his throat. If the both are here, Lucifer knows all too well that something big is going down up there. They’d never come down to hell, of course, it’s beneath them, but there’s clearly apprehension in their expressions, no matter how pressed Raphael seems to always be.
“You know why we do not venture down to you, Lucifer,” Gabriel murmurs. “And that is not the topic of our meeting. Sera is in a meeting, otherwise she would be present as well.”
‘Bullshit,’ Lucifer thinks but doesn’t voice.
“Your daughter killed the first man,” Gabriel starts, and Lucifer immediately goes to protest and defend his daughter.
“Like Hell she did!”
“The final blow doesn’t matter, Lucifer!” Raphael hisses. “Sinner, Overlord, your daughter, you, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is she is the sole reason that the First Man is dead. Truly dead.”
“Didn’t seem to matter to you when other men were truly dead- oh, wait, no, you call it exorcising. Or exterminating.” Lucifer ruefully eyes his fellow seraphims. “Why does it matter that a winner won’t ever be coming back, when there’s plenty of sinners that got dealt the same hand?”
“You are the one who agreed to the Exorcisms in the first place! You have no say in this, Demon!”
That makes him cringe, gripping his apple staff tightly beneath his hands. Of course, he’s at fault. He allowed it to happen for thousands of years, his hypocritical words wouldn’t get him anywhere with his angelic brothers.
“Exorcisms or no,” Gabriel cautiously ventures forward with hopes of no more interruptions, “This changes everything. Your daughter has changed everything.”
“And that’s not a good thing?” Lucifer raises a brow, subtly enjoying the way Raphael is fuming beside Gabriel.
“No.”
Gabriel changes the scenery to the Garden, something that makes Lucifer cringe outwardly. He hasn’t laid eyes on it in years, but it looks the same. So heavenly, so divine, something to be shared with the world, not hidden and kept dormant, secret to all but a few chosen ones. The grass is just as lush as he remembers, and even through the portal he can smell eucalyptus trees always in full bloom.
He almost didn’t notice his hand reaching toward the portal, before a golden shackle snaps into reality, keeping his palm fixed firmly away from the Garden. He tests it tentatively, but it still has no give, no matter how much he’d previously tried to break them. His shackles, his punishment. Lucifer exhales and drops his hands, shackles disappearing as quickly as they had come into sight.
There must be a point that Gabriel intends to make that requires shock value; he has always been dramatic.
“The birthplace of sin,” he says as if on cue, and Lucifer huffs, folding his arms.
“I’d prefer to call it the birthplace of free will, but you call it whatever you want, Gabe.”
“Your lackadaisical attitude is partly why you’re in Hell in the first place.” Gabriel coldly remarks, and Lucifer feels a shudder ripple from his shoulders down into his kept wings. “I’ve brought you here to remember what you did, the consequences of your actions, and what the future will bring. Your daughter, Charlotte-” it takes his entire will not to correct Gabriel to ‘Charlie’- “Has committed a crime against Heaven, against the Speaker, against Father himself. And on the other side of the coin... she’s proven that Redemption is possible.”
Lucifer’s heart stalls for a moment before he gazes up at Gabriel who now has his full attention.
“There’s a redeemed sinner that has joined us- a Sir Pentious?” Gabriel looks to Raphael who nods quickly. “None of us knew this possible.”
“Haha! Yes! Oh my Stars I have to tell Charlie, she’s going to be so-” Lucifer is cut off by a shake of his proverbial and very physical chain, one that Raphael has suddenly tightened around his neck. His eyes narrow at the action, but Raphael remains unmoved by his hard stare.
“You will tell her nothing.” Gabriel warns. “We are leaving it to Sera to deal with, so I expect Charlotte will hear some positive news in the upcoming weeks. You are who we need to speak to on the matters of her punishment.”
Lucifer’s eyes widen and he snarls, losing his normal facade and flares up in all his demonic glory, fire igniting in his irises at the mere mention of anything being done to his daughter. Her! Who’d saved all her friends, changed his mind about redemption, put her own life at risk to stop the inhumane executions he had allowed in the first place.
No one is going to punish Charlie while he’s around, certainly not those that were involved in his fall from Heaven.
“Mind your tongue,” Lucifer hisses. “And know you’ll do no such thing. You can punish me for eternity, for being the first to sin, but I won’t let you touch Charlie. I won’t even let you within a lightyear of her. She’s done nothing wrong, all she did was help her people, our people, defend themselves. That’s more than I’ve ever done for them.”
“That is precisely my point,” Gabriel points out, unphased by Lucifer’s transformation, though he does give Raphael a small sideways glance. The chain tightens once again, cutting into Lucifer’s neck. Golden ichor drips from the wound, but Lucifer isn’t deterred.
“You have always done nothing, which is what we wanted. This is your divine punishment, powerless to stop those whom you’d gifted that wonderful free will to. But your daughter, she has free will and no chains to bind her. She’s visited Heaven once, and after that, she challenged the exorcist army and won. We have you on a tight leash, but what do we do about her?”
“What do you want?” Lucifer spits, the tips of his hooves sparking with bloody flames.
Gabriel adjusts himself, nodding to Raphael to loosen the chain around the King of Hell’s neck. Lucifer huffs out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’s holding, slowly returning to his usual, more demure looking self. He wipes his neck of ambrosia, shaking it from his fingers. Gabriel and Raphael glance at each other before peering back into the portal, down at Lucifer.
“Absolution.”
“No.” Lucifer’s eyes grow fiery.
“You have no say in the matter.”
“I have say because she’s my fucking daughter,” Lucifer seethes, the chains reappearing around his wrists. His wings flutter him above the floor, closer to the portal, where the chain around his neck has formed once again. “And if anyone dares to come with the intention of divine deliverance, even you two, there isn’t a chain long enough or strong enough that’ll stop me from tearing everyone apart to keep her safe.”
He rises closer to the portal, his wings beating behind him so forcefully he can see his updraft breeze past Gabriel and Raphael’s hair. A fourth chain appears around his waist, his teeth fully bared at the seraphims in front of him. He’s so close to the portal he can smell the everlasting morning dew on the Garden’s grass. Tastes nectar from the ever-blooming flowers of all kinds, hears the soft thrum of insect songs that pierce the deathly silence from his outburst.
He’s bleeding from all points of contact of the shackles, but he doesn’t waver, doesn’t falter.
‘I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything.’
A brief moment of silence falls over the two seraphims before Gabriel purses his lips, and Raphael shifts his weight.
“That isn’t up to you. As one of Heaven’s highest order, I am taking full jurisdiction of Charlotte Morningstar’s trial, and presenting the case to our fellow Thrones and Dominons.” Gabriel words cut coldly across Lucifer’s soul. It sounds far too similar to his own Fall. “The Cherubim have already been informed; they leave it to us to decide how best to diplomatically resolve this conflict.”
“Of course, they don’t want blood on their hands.” Lucifer scorns.
“The ultimate decision lays therein with me.” Gabriel frowns. “Charlotte’s trial will be held without her presence in a matter of weeks. For now, Sera has to decide the fate of the redeemed sinner, which takes priority. I will call upon you again once we have decided a suitable punishment for your daughter.”
“No- fuck- you- No!”
Lucifer in vain attempts to break the veil, but the portal has already disappeared, as have his chains. Instead he flies toward nothing in his empty room. Everything demonic in his appearance wilts away, and his wings weakly pulsate downward until his knees touch the carpet. A heaviness settles inside his chest, as well as a deep, unsettling sense of dread.
He sits for a moment on his knees before he stands up, leaning heavily on his cane as he magics the room to how he wants- what's comfortable to him. Duck decor pops into existence, flashes of baby pink and warm yellows blend seamlessly in his new room, which he has decided will exist on a plane by itself with no need to hold anything back. Stairs emerge and seem to go up to an impossible floor from the exterior of the building, the comforting sound of running water from a pond he’d made above cooling his hot mind.
That encounter had been less than pleasant, and not one he’d ever expected. Charlie had done something amazing, but now they’re thinking of punishment? Over Adam?
The wall to his left becomes rubble in seconds, only the doorway remaining with his comfort colours painting the angelic wood.
What Lucifer doesn’t expect to see is the Radio Demon on the other side of the rubble, stopped in mid action of knocking the door.
Fuck.
-
“Well, sire, that’s certainly a way of inviting one in!” Alastor comments far too cheerfully as he discreetly walks through the ruins of Lucifer’s wall, which makes a dramatic improvement over his current decor. He can’t help but wrinkle his nose at all the... pink. And Ducks.
Suddenly the outside of Lucifer’s room didn’t seem so offensive, if this is what’s inside. He watches the Devil flounder for a moment, looking between the debris and Alastor’s approach, his mouth agape similarly to the aforementioned animal. An entertaining thought of Flounder Lucifer flopping on a plate before him lifts his spirits, even more than hearing a forbidden conversation with two of the highest ranking seraphims in Heaven.
He can’t help but be amused by Lucifer’s deer-in-headlights look, before it changes to one of incredulous rage.
“Y- you were listening?!”
“Quite! You know, for such small stature, you are woefully loud. Be glad it was only me on our shared floor.” Alastor grins, drinking the crestfallen look on Lucifer’s face. The lack of response does surprise him, though the Radio Demon supposes Lucifer has just gone through what sounded like a metaphysical and most draining skirmish with his angelic kin.
“They’re going to punish her. Charlie. Charlie! F-for what? Doing what no one else could? What I couldn’t?!”
Ah, the eruption of turmoil after quite the verbal flog.
“In fairness, they said it was for the death of the First Man. Not that I agree with them, of course!” Alastor takes a moment to pluck a rubber duck off a desk to the right, his claws puncturing it ever so slightly. It brings Lucifer stammering and rescuing said duck from his grasp, looking at the small pinpricks in the rubber. Alastor grins pointedly.
“You heard everything.”
“Indeed, though I had assumed we’d established that.” Alastor motions dismissively. “No matter. What punishment will they bestow upon our dear Charlie?”
Lucifer’s horns emerge for a moment, a snarl on his lips- Alastor simply smiles. Something that clearly makes any fight in Lucifer die out, surprisingly.
“I don’t know. And she’s not yours.” The King of Hell defensively huffs.
“I said ‘our’, sire! My, I believe you’ve overworked your tiny mind with that very important meeting,” Alastor mocks. “Do you need someone to tuck you in after that farce?”
“Offer not accepted, asshole.” Lucifer mumbles, snapping his fingers into more comfortable attire.
Before Alastor can even comment on how rhetorical his question had been, he halters for a moment as he takes in Lucifer’s new appearance. It brings Alastor’s bite down a peg, because he really doesn’t expect to see Lucifer so casual in his presence. Though, he supposes he is in the King’s room. The pink, oversized sweater and black slacks seem befitting for a clown of a King. And on his sleeves, Alastor spies a vertical row of ducklings. The grimace doesn’t show through his mirthful smile.
A quick glance behind him shows the wall has been fixed as well, no more rubble. A pity, Alastor could make use of such a structural weakness. But he supposes he’ll resort to shifting around in the shadows as usual- when he’s feeling better.
The dull ache in his chest from Adam’s wound makes itself known with a resounding throb, and it almost catches Alastor off guard. He doesn’t even have the luxury of leaning on his staff. He’s suddenly overcome with gratitude that Niffty had stabbed the fool of a first man over a dozen times. His staff will be inevitably hard to fix, if it is even possible. He loathes the thought of having to return to his master about anything to do with his deal, but... he may have no choice in the matter.
Alastor will be putting that off for as long as he could, given the circumstances.
“You do not know the punishments Heaven could give? I’d have thought you’d be the expert of such atrocities. Considering.”
“Oh fuck you,” Lucifer strains, launching the abused rubber duck at Alastor’s torso. He politely does not add insult to injury and allows the pathetic toy to beat against his chest before it falls to the ground like a dead weight. And then he steps on it, enjoying Lucifer’s wince.
“Just because I had the First Punishment, it doesn’t mean I know what they can do. And I went along with mine willingly, might I add!” The King almost pouts, and Alastor’s grin widens by a margin through interest alone.
“I assume you were under some kind of threat. Surely the first Sinner condemned himself to hell because his kin asked kindly.”
That seems to tear Lucifer up inside, which Alastor delights in. He steps away from the ruined duck and instead inspects the King’s room, taking note of the impossible stair way and pond above his tacky bed.
“They were threatening Lilly. It’s not like I could let anything happen to her.” Lucifer mumbles, picking up a duck that had magicked its way into existence, holding it in his palms. His gaze is stubbornly set on the childish toy, but Alastor doesn’t comment on it, instead invested by newly divulged information on their lustrous and absent queen.
“And now they’re threatening Charlie too. I’d like to see them try, motherduckers.” Lucifer mumbles inanely to himself, and Alastor fights the urge comment on the swear ‘motherduckers’. Pathetic and creative, something he’s come to expect from the King of Hell.
“Well, I assume it’s in our shared interests to keep our darling Charlie safe from harm!” Alastor exclaims, nearly making Lucifer jump out of his skin at the sudden volume. “After all, judging from your... eugh, decor, it’s clear you’re going to be staying here! What better way to look after your dear daughter! And considering I’ve been placed in charge of this illustrious establishment via Charlie’s gentle orders, we have a similar duty in ensuring she sticks around and is safe! Are you familiar with niche partitioning?”
Lucifer eyebrow quirks at the sudden tangent. Of course he wouldn’t understand what Alas, he’ll need to explain.
“For the purpose of elucidation: you are a humble hyena, and I an African Lion. What would we share in common?”
To his credit, Lucifer doesn’t hesitate to answer, despite his furrowing brow. Ah how quickly the King picks up on the subtle jab of Alastor picking the far more powerful predator!
“I mean, everything. Territory, food, water...”
“Precisely! Similarly, we share Charlie and her wonderful hotel in common. While we certainly do not share pleasantries, we occupy the same space- a spatial niche, if you will. You will probably remain here in your little room, and I will be hosting the hotel! Mingling with guests, keeping a careful eye on Charlie.”
Before Lucifer can interrupt Alastor’s bold speech with an air of indignation, Alastor continues.
“Now say those angels come and disrupt our lovely biodiverse habitat. Well, that wouldn’t be any good, would it? With one cog missing, the machine is doomed to fail. It’s in all of our best interests to keep our territory safe, is it not?”
“I don’t like- your explanation, but I get it.” He scowls, causing Alastor’s grin to stretch.
“Excellent. In that case, we will strive to keep Charlie safe! Oh, and don’t worry, sire. I won’t tell a soul. Inciting a panic when the hotel will soon be booming will do none of us any good, haha!”
The radio demon watches blithely as Lucifer’s mouth opens and closes helplessly, watching his expression flicker from confusion to shock to shallow acknowledgement. Oh he’s going to have fun tormenting his King’s small mind during his semi-permanent stay here at the Hotel. Especially considering how easy it is to get some flustered in his own thoughts. Almost piteous.
Almost.
“Okay,” Lucifer says steadily, eyeing the sinner with narrowed eyes. “Don’t mention anything to Charlie either- I'll figure this out, somehow. She doesn’t need extra stress on top of everything.”
‘Is that not what I just said? ’ Alastor thinks to himself bitterly before leaning forward in a mocking bow.
“Of course, sire. Whatever my King commands.”
As quick as he appears, Alastor dematerialises into the shadows and out the door, giddy with forbidden knowledge and the thought of Lucifer in dismay. Though, he has to assume the angels would take precautions if they choose to return to Hell, considering how many of them have been killed.
He’ll keep a shadowy eye on the skies, in any case. Alastor couldn’t have anyone, not even Heaven, tampering with his plans after all.