Chapter Text
Stage 1: Denial
Thinking back, his lieutenant was oddly somber the day before the fight with Charlie and her crew.
“I heard a story, sir.”
“What is it, danger-tits? Make it quick.” Adam snapped. He had no time for dawdling. The battle was near, and it was only out of respect that he decided to lend her an ear.
Relationships are messy, in every universe. Before this, Adam would describe them as comrades and best buddies. The type that would insult one another, yet somehow always stuck together in the end—since everyone else in heaven was high on sugar and hyper-fixated in rainbows and unicorns. The ‘insults’ were mostly Adam’s, but he made damn sure no one would hear his gratitude while they’re still alive.
His insecurities tend to show up in the cruelest mask, testing the ones around him and especially the ones he loved—but perhaps it was precisely because he hadn’t yet realized how much she was worth to him that they were still peas in a pod.
But would it have gone another way if she were to never die?
“Once upon a time,” Lute started. “There was a girl who loved the sun. She admired its glow, its radiance, for it was everything she was not.”
Adam snickered. “Poetic, eh?”
Lute elbowed him in the ribs. “Listen. The sun never cast her a glance, but she wanted his gaze, even at the cost of her own life.” She paused. “So she built a pair of wax wings from feathers. Yet they burned away when she got too close to the sun. But in the last moments of her death—the sun finally looked at her, and she died with a smile.”
Adam grunted. “That’s so fucking dumb. And selfish.”
Though the rest of her face remained stoic, Lute raised her brows. “Selfish? That’s rare coming from you, sir.”
“Duh.” Adam said between gulps of devouring a rib. “That bitch’s used her own death to make the sun to glance at her out of pity. Who is this fucking ‘sun’ anyway? He better have the looks to pull such a pathetic bitch.”
“...pathetic.” Her lips quirked upwards. “Yes, perhaps she is pathetic, sir.”
“So who is this mysterious guy? Ugh, I bet he’s a drummer.” Adam grunted. “Fuck me and my life, you are not trading your life for another man, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Adam was joking. So was Lute. But he soon realized that their lies held truth.
In this universe, Nifty’s blade came from the front.
“Adam!”
Adam closed his eyes, awaiting for his demise.
Fuck fuck fuck y’all should be worshiping me I hate women and I hate men and I hate everyone!
There was this gut-twisting sound of a blade churning in flesh. But it was not his.
“!” Adam opened his eyes.
“Sir…” Lute collapsed. Her stomach was stabbed twenty-ish times. “You…are…my…light (sun), Adam…”
Shit! Adam scrambled towards her and patted her face. “Liuentenant?”
No reply. She was smiling, like a porcelain doll. She never smiled like this. Relief. Like everything was fine.
“Danger-tits?” A hint of terror crept into his tone. “Wake up, bitch. It’s not funny.”
She will get up the next second and scare me, will she? But Lute was never one to pull pranks. He knew full well that the chances of that were near zero.
“...Lute?” A twinge of anger before it quickly faded back into denial. “What the fuck! Wake up! You promised!”
He was like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Get your exorcist team and get the fuck out of here! Kindly.” Lucifer’s scream above him was muffled.
He (Lucifer) always had to ruin things for him, hadn't he?
Cradling his lieutenant's body, he called for the exorcists to retreat.
He felt her weight in his arms for the first time. Light. Like a feather. It gave him an illusion that if he exerted just one more ounce of strength, she’d melt into a pool of gold.
She couldn’t die. She must live.
***
Two days later…
Adam clumsily placed her hands so that they were crossed in front of her lifeless chest.
Then he watched as the last of her was burnt to ashes on the pyre.
He could feel the heat lunging him in waves.
Was this how she felt around him?
It hurts.
Adam plucked the black exorcist halo from the table next to him and fit it snugly over his wrist.
TBC.