Work Text:
Time, like all things, goes by in Hell.
Humans thought they had decoded the meaning and relativity of time, where it stays linear on Earth and then warps among the cosmos, among the furthest lying star — In Hell, that is also true. Time, from the lips of its Sinners, is a blurred edge and is a caveat of their punishments. And for two weeks Alastor has felt that time has passed in the blink of an eye, but also that the seconds, hours, and days have not moved at all, as if either velocity could coexist at the same moment. Like he could walk between intervals of time and nothing outside of his physical space would stay still. Like the Morning Star curled up in six soft wings, who had not moved and had not awoken yet.
Alastor has always been a patient man though, he would not leave his King’s side whether Heaven decided to descend onto them with war or not for Vox’s transgressions. However, his patience has never been this tested before, fraying the simple line into a weakening thread, and it’s not like Lilith left a manual on the care of Fallen Angels freshly fallen. No, she hadn’t at all. The demon would just have to continue waiting in passing and warping of time.
While Alastor waits, he lets his mind wander to that night of the falling star. There were four truths that were of the utmost importance, everything in between them was a miniscule piece of the whole picture. One, Vox had used Lucifer’s power to attack Heaven and destroyed their defenses with only one shot. Two, Alastor was free of chains, a deal cashed in and the restraints of his power broken. Three, Charlie Morningstar had not cared about her father’s injuries and had not come to see him in recovery. And four, Rosie was right.
Rosie had been and will always continue to be right. She was not mad at Alastor, annoyed maybe and surprised definitely. She very much respected him and delighted in his presence, so she did not stay upset for long. Yet, Alastor had not cared to hear what she said about their broken deal, he had only heard the second part.
“You spend too much time talking about everything he does and you freely touch him, not like you do with others. You choose to do that and it is not out of necessity…”
As the words replay in his mind, over and over again, he does what she accuses him of and reaches out a hand toward the charred, ombre black one with sharply pointed claws glossy like polished obsidian. Alastor lightly pushes his fingers between Lucifer's, taking note of the missing, signature wedding band as their hands finally slot together. A perfect fit. The large hand of a King’s executioner and the small hand of the King.
“If you dare to wake soon, your Highness,” Alastor breaks the silence, “I will still keep my promise. With this hand in yours, I’ll wield the sword you make me.”
Alastor stupidly and hopefully waits for a reply. He only sees the fall of Lucifer’s chest, soft and steady. His ears turn down, flat against his head, and only squeezes the King’s soft hand in his. The moment terrifies the Overlord as he is once left in the silence of approaching morning where his thoughts roam free. There is something about watching and holding a fallen angel who carries so much burden that it would make any Sinner stop and pledge their loyalty for eternity. Alastor dangerously wonders if this is the peace and beauty she saw in Eden and in Hell that made her fall with the angel all that time ago. And somewhere in that mind, the demon hears himself ask if he would also fall with Lucifer? He answers himself with no hesitation. He would, because there is no Hell, no purpose, without his King.
A knock on the door echoes through the room, bringing Alastor out of his wandering thoughts. Time had passed again and the morning’s bright red sunlight now filters through the cracks and gaps between the drawn curtains signifying a new dawn. Sliding his hand out of Lucifer’s, Alastor stands and treads to the door as another round of knocks sound against the door.
Vaggi stands in the doorway with a tray of breakfast for the Overlord and to his surprise, Charlie stands a little ways away with her arms wrapped around herself and with her head tilted down to avoid his withering gaze.
“My, my, what a surprise,” Alastor purrs out, his words laced with a sharpness that Charlie knew was for her.
“We brought you breakfast and were wondering if there was any progress with the King,” Vaggi held out the tray and passed it to Alastor. He takes it with careful hands and sets it on a table inside the room, not even giving the meal a glance. Vaggi had the understanding to not enter the room as he turned his back to her, but Charlie had finally moved and stood next to her girlfriend. She tried to step across the threshold, but Vaggi grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Not yet,” Vaggi shook her head at Charlie and released her arm. Alastor was back to the doorway and just looked the Princess up and down.
“Alastor, is there any news about my dad? Has he woken up yet? Is he healing?” Charlie rambled on before she finally met the demon’s eyes.
“Two weeks.” Was all that Alastor said in the flattest and calmest voice he could manage.
Charlie blinked slowly in response. “What?”
“It took you two weeks to come see and ask about your father. His own flesh and blood,” he replied with a type of calmness that put Vaggi on edge and made Charlie take a small step away from the door, out of the looming shadow of the demon in front of her.
“I - well, you see - the hotel has been -” Charlie stuttered out, her hands nervously twisted together.
“No,” Alastor snapped his hand up to stop her, “there is no excuse for you to have not cared. You ignored him after the battle. You sent someone else after three days following the battle, knowing he was injured, just to ask if he was awake. You took two weeks to finally do it yourself.”
He pauses to breathe and collect the anger in his chest that is daring to crawl out of his throat. Lucifer would for sure, not be happy, if Alastor attacked the Princess even in his defense.
“The King of Hell was captured and tortured and used because of you, because he loves you so much. He has never loved anything more, other than Lilith, who he fell out of grace for. Then she leaves. Then you leave,” Alastor stares at her wide red eyes, the same eyes her father has, “His own flesh and blood, his own heart and soul, does not even bother to check on him. If I could shame you, I would. But this is Hell and this is as low as it gets.”
Alastor sees the moment of realization hit her when she hugs herself tighter and the tears gather on her lower lashes. Vaggi puts an arm around the Princess’ shoulders gently, not speaking. They all were toeing an invisible fragile line, the line being Lucifer. Even Alastor knew not to step over that line, so he ended the conversation at the point they were at.
“Now. I will let you know when the King wakes up and is ready for visitors.”
Vaggi nods to the demon. She leads a sniffling Charlie away and Alastor shuts the door.
He falls back against the door with a thud and tries to take a deep breath in. The shadow on the floor slinks his way and wraps its smokey tendrils around Alastor’s leg, hugging him and trying to give him some comfort.
Alastor caves in later that day when the sunlight starts to dip down towards the horizon, waiting for the red to descend into a violet dusk. He brings a piano into Lucifer’s room. It is a beautiful, old upright piano that is pressed against the wall, cozily set between shelves of tools and rubber ducks. The demon removes his coat and tie, throwing them carelessly at the end of the King’s bed before returning to the instrument. When he sits down on the piano bench, Alastor picks up one of the rubber ducks on the shelf next to him and smiles. Coincidentally, the pitch black color for its plastic body and the glowing green details of a large smile and eyes, looks an awful lot like his shadow. The shadow is back on the floor with a huge grin and nodding frantically to the duck in the demon’s hand. So, Alastor sighs and places the duck on top of the piano, right in front of his eyes, much to the shadow’s approval.
The Overlord starts with a small warm up to get into the groove of things. His long fingers splay across the keys in major and minor cords. He leans left and right letting his hands jump over each other to reach high and low octaves. Then it's a soft, slow jazz piece that works its way into an up beat, fun dancing song. Then, when that tones down back into a comforting slow lullaby, it turns solemn and yearning. The piano’s keys are weeping as Alastor's hands run across them, as he tells the instrument about the heartache and the torture of caring for Lucifer so deeply while trying to ignore and squash those feelings so they don’t lead to heart break — yet, failing miserably. The piano listens and the piano answers. It plays melodies of Alastor’s grief and love and loyalty, even that sharp anger for a certain someone. The piano keeps coaxing him into spilling his secrets and Alastor is so wrapped up in his mind that he does not hear the rustling of blankets. He does not hear the soft call of his name. He does not miss the fluffing of six large wings.
He does not hear the angel slink up behind him.
Two small and warm arms wrap under Alastor’s and tighten across his chest, the melody tapers off and Alastor snaps his head up. Those large deer ears twitch back to hear a soft sigh. Lucifer has his head of golden fluff pressed between the demon’s shoulder blades. Lucifer is awake.
“Enough of that,” Lucifer commands softly. Alastor can’t respond, he can’t find the right words. He does not move either.
“I heard you the entire time. I wanted so desperately to emerge and answer you, but something kept trying to keep me under. The music,” Lucifer pauses to rest his chin on Alastor’s shoulder, tilting his head to the demon’s neck and finding he fits perfectly in that space, “The music pulled me away from the darkness and I somehow knew it was you.”
Alastor sighed, finally letting go of the breath he was holding. He was afraid to turn around and dare interrupt Lucifer’s hold, as if a small movement would cast him away.
“Alastor, feared Overlord and most powerful Sinner, you are the only one to ever make me a deal with the utmost sincerity and loyalty in mind. And because I’m feeling generous, I’ll throw in a bonus from me. Once the deal is made, I will tell you a secret that no one knows. Not even the other Sins, not Charlie, and not even the Queen,” Lucifer speaks.
“Lucifer, my sire, you should know something before you choose to accept this deal. I am selfish and I don’t want anything from you,” Alastor trails off and looks down at his hands. The words he is about to confess to his King are words he never thought would leave his lips. “I don’t want anything from you because what I want is you. You infuriate me. You are the King of Hell and I am just one Sinner of millions, yet you have treated me as an equal. You are the only person who does not touch me and you are the only person I want to touch.”
Dusk had fully descended. The violet color of the sky and the soft glow of Heaven and Hell’s moon flood through the window. In response, the room lights with a dim red blaze of the fireplace on the far wall. This moment between Dawn and Dusk would stay with both of them for the rest of their time in Hell. It mattered not if Lucifer the Morning Star rejected the Radio Demon because this moment of words spoken was etched into their hearts as permanent as words carved into stone. These truths would lie with them even if they went their separate ways, but Alastor, the devoted one, could not look either way.
“I know.”
Two gentle words. It took two gentle words for Alastor to finally turn his head to the side and look at his King. He peered into Lucifer’s deep red eyes full of acceptance and something akin to excitement. Then Lucifer reached up with his obsidian tipped claws and firmly grasped the Sinner’s jaw.
“I’ll give you one chance to rescind your offer. This pact will bind us, our path forward will be forged by our blood. I can not offer you domestic and peace. I will be rash and my anger will slip. My tongue will be sharp and wicked. However, I can offer my respect, loyalty, and protection,” Lucifer’s gaze is burning into Alastor.
The Overlord responds, “I am the only one who will want your sharp tongue with its wicked words and I will be the one to give your anger a host. I want no path forward if it does not end with us. I want no bond unless it is you and we are bound by your blood for the rest of our time in this crimson land. Without you, there is no purpose.”
Without asking for a final chance to back away, Lucifer pulls Alastor’s lips to his own. The white wings on Lucifer’s back spring wide and then wrap around the two, encasing them in a space of golden light and red lines weaving between their chests. Alastor grabs the front of Lucifer’s ridiculous sweater and presses himself closer to his King. The fallen angel has stupidly soft lips that fit perfectly against the demon’s and the realization has Alastor growling. And much to his disapproval Lucifer pulls back. Lucifer pushes his forehead against Alastor’s. He lets his sharp horns rest against the demon’s antlers.
“Vox was wrong. I can harm Sinners. Rules and punishments always have loopholes. Closed doors exist for a reason and what I do behind them is my secret,” Lucifer whispers and then opens his eyes to find a smirking Overlord chuckling. “I can harm Sinners, but I can’t kill them.”
“I see. Quite the predicament, Sire,” Alastor laughs.
Lucifer smiles back.
“Forever?” The King whispers.
“Forever.” The Executioner whispers back.
These were the things said between the bringing of Dawn and the descending of Dusk. He asked and someone answered back. Now they could both pass through the warping of time together.