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Lucifer lay next to you on his king sized bed, you had bandaged and put medicine on his wounds as gently as you could, internally cringing whenever you heard the weak whimpers he was clearly trying to hide with grimaces. You couldn’t imagine the pain he was in. and everyone just…walked away from him. Even his own daughter. You were left to help him limp to the hotel, him trying to downplay the clear agony he was in, failing to laugh away the pain.
You could see him struggling to take deep breaths, the wounds clearly making any movement hell for him. You had your arm gently around him at his request, trying your best to avoid any of his more major wounds. You had surrounded him with his rubber ducks and as gently as you could put him in his favourite big sweater. You wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible after….everything he went through, especially as everyone else left him to his own devices even after seeing him in that state. How could even Charlie see her own father like that and help her friend instead? Vaggi could’ve easily helped Emily.
Lucifer must have sensed your tenseness, and he quietly whispered your name.
“Hey, its fine…really…they had other things to worry about…”
“Emily, maybe!!” You sat up on the bed, trying not to jostle him too much, “One of them could’ve helped Emily, Alastor…Charlie especially should’ve helped you!! After everything you did for her…”
“…I just messed stuff up constantly. And she’s going through a lot. She had a right to be mad at me.” He gently squeezed your hand, looking down at it with sad eyes.
“No, you didn’t! you couldn’t’ve known Vox was aware that you couldn’t hurt him. Damn, he would’ve been pissing himself if he didn’t know…You were literally just tortured, don’t blame yourself!”
“Well, “tortured” is a strong word…”
You gave him a look.
“…Heh, maybe not that strong a word…”
“I’m giving Charlie a piece of my mind later. You did nothing but support her when she messed up, and she couldn’t even give you the most basic courtesy back…” You put your hand gently on his chest.
“You really don’t need to. She was stressed…”
“And you were tortured!! Stress shouldn’t make you suddenly blind to your father bleeding and struggling to move in front of you. If Charlie was in that position, wouldn’t you risk everything to help her??”
“…Yeah…”
You sat up against the pillows, shifting both of you so his head was on your chest. “I’m sorry this is all happening to you…”
“It’s fine, really…I’ve been through worse…” He coughed, golden blood spattering onto your shirt. “Sorry…”
You just hugged him, trying to help ease his breathing. “Talking about this is just making me mad. Anything I can do for you?”
“Are you…any good at making pancakes?” He looked up at you with a weak smile.