Chapter Text
Shadows always followed Lucifer. At the start of creation: the shadows of the other angels and their spears at his back. In the early morning after a night with Lilith: tendrils of shadow snaking in between opaque scars on his back, wings, and hands reminding him of what he had done. In the afternoon during his meetings with Heaven: daggers in Adam’s stare caused shadows to snake up the back of his neck. In the evening: shadows snaked into his dreams, wrapping around his throat and squeezing hard, cutting off his air.
Tonight was one of those nights. Lucifer shot up in bed, fully extending his wings in his panic. Old wounds burned with heavenly fire, setting his golden blood aflame in his veins. Lucifer pressed his hands into his face, desperately trying to calm his breathing and willing the lights on in his room. A sob escaped his lips as the fire burned through his back.
Even though it had been a millenia since the fall, Lucifer relived it in his dreams with all the same pain. Of course his wings and hands wouldn’t fully burn while he was sleeping despite it feeling like it. He had explained it to Lilith once. He remembered telling her that it felt like each individual feather on his six wings were on fire, like that fateful day from the past. A burning sensation would start at the tip of each individual feather and then travel upwards. The feeling raced until it scorched his back and ran through his soul. These dreams caused him to rarely sleep when he first got to hell.
Eventually, when Charlie was born, the dreams faded into the night. However, the shadows found other ways to reach him. After Lilth left, they returned to his dreams, but with a vengeance escaping into the real world: panic, depression, anxiety to name a few. The intrusive thoughts sent him spiraling for weeks.
The shadows dragged him away from Charlie, making him unable to face his daughter. The shadows of the day had gotten better after he moved into the hotel, only coming for him every few months, but the shadows in his dreams? They were persistent. Not quelling for anyone. Well, that was a lie. There was someone who could quell them. He just didn’t like to admit it.
Lucifer groaned as his breathing slowed. He was going to have to sit up another night in the lounge. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Snapping on his normal outfit, he headed down to the Hotel staff lounge. Maybe Husk was still there and I can grab a drink, Lucifer mused.
The lounge was empty when Lucifer got there. The bar was unattended, radio turned off, and a jigsaw puzzle was half finished on one of the tables. Lucifer eyed one the books he had been reading on one of the coffee tables, but moved towards the bar instead. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, but ultimately ended up taking the whole bottle with him back to the couch. He was going to need more than one drink tonight. He would repay Husk for the bottle eventually, probably by getting one from Earth somehow. Lucifer’s eyes flicked back to the book he was reading after taking a large swig of whiskey.
He settled into the couch, his century old bones relaxing into the plush cushions. He shifted around a bit to get fully comfortable and then started reading.
After a few minutes, Lucifer felt the shadows creeping up his neck. He shuddered. The quiet in the lobby was starting to get to him. He turned on the radio and just barely turned it up. That radio demon isn’t on tonight, Lucifer thought while sighing. He secretly wished Bambi was on tonight.
The King of Hell had made it a habit to come to the lobby and listen to his show when the shadows would come for him. He was only mildly disappointed that this wasn’t the case tonight. Instead, he got to listen to whatever trash radio VoxTech had created to stop the Radio Demon from broadcasting so often. Lucifer knew that the deer demon could simply override the air waves whenever he pleased, but Lucifer assumed he didn’t really care. The listener numbers must be pretty bad for that show.
After what seemed like a few hours in the lobby, when in reality it was only thirty minutes, Lucifer started to feel the familiar pinpricks of static on the back of his neck. The Radio Demon is here. Lucifer heard the crackle of static and felt the shadows in the room come up to release Alastor in all his tacky glory.
“Before you even start, I’m not in the mood,” Lucifer said while not taking the eyes off his book
“Can’t sleep again? Your Majesty,” the Radio crackle of Alastor’s voice fizzed in front of him.
Lucifer sighed and looked up at the demon before him. Alastor’s head was turned to the side almost like a dog looking in lopsided confusion at its owner. Except Alastor wore the same shit-eating grin he always did.
“Yes. Shouldn’t you be sleeping or broadcasting or doing anything that isn’t here, Bellhop?” Lucifer threw the insult at him despite him feeling his bones ache with exhaustion.
“You very well know, Your Majesty, that I do not sleep that often. I felt someone playing the radio in the lounge.” Alastor grinned at the King of Hell. “So I thought I might as well see who was up at this absolutely ghoulish hour.”
Lucifer gave him a once over with his eyes while trying to think about a retort, but in the end he just crumbled. The exhaustion prickled at the back of his eyes. This was the third night in a row he hadn’t slept. “Sorry, Alastor. I needed background noise tonight.”
He watched as Alastor flinched–shocked, by the candor if not by the devil using his name. Lucifer heard the small amount of feedback scratching at his ears, but he was too bone tired to react to it.
“Well, at least listen to something good,” Alastor said as he pointed his cane to the radio. The radio sparked a few black and green shadows, and it started playing jazz. “I plan on staying up for a while and reading a book myself. Feel free to continue on with your business.”
Lucifer blinked. Of course, this wasn’t the first time Lucifer and Alastor had sat in complete silence, simply doing other things. Lucifer had actually gotten used to the damn deer and their quiet time spent together in the late hours of the night.
It had started before the battle with Vox when Lucifer had moved into the hotel. The two of them were normally not consumed by sleep late at night, but the late-night visits increased in number after the battle. Lucifer needed someone to remind him he wasn’t still trapped in a box draining his lifeforce straight out of him.
Lucifer sighed and continued reading his book, sinking further and further into the cushions below him. The King of Hell felt the music winding around him, moving in between the opaque scars of his wings and hands, snaking up the back of his neck, and finally wrapping around his neck in a protective way. The notes chased the shadows away, replacing the darkness with black music notes outlined in a green hue. Lucifer felt himself relaxing as if the music was lulling him into a trance. His eyes blinked sleepily at his book before slipping closed, his breaths evening out.
~~~
Alastor watched as the little devil succumbed to sleep, book falling on his stomach as his head sank to the side. The devil himself must have been too tired to feel the gaze of the demon. Alastor narrowed his eyes at the thought of the King of Hell leaving himself open to someone he clearly hated, but then again, Alastor would never dare hurt him nor would the devil ever think of hurting him. The hatred the radio demon held for the devil himself had slowly faded into curiosity. At least, that's what Alastor thought the feeling was. He wasn’t entirely sure himself. This wasn’t the first time Alastor had played a little trick with the music, letting the notes come alive and attend to Lucifer in whatever way the angel needed. They always seemed to follow Alastor's unspoken desire to help the king.
Alastor sighed. Lucifer drove him mad with snarky comments and a prideful attitude around the others. The only thing that started to change his thoughts about the king of hell was these late night quiet reading sessions where the devil’s mask would finally come off. His cracks were noticeable, and after a few late night meet ups, Alastor had begun to notice them around the others. He would never say it to his face, but the radio demon noticed when the shorter man was going through a hard time.
Sometimes Alastor wondered if the devil could see his own. Night terrors sometimes plagued him as well. They didn’t occur as much as the King’s, but they were still very prominent. The devil would always bring him warm tea on those nights, clearly seeing something Alastor needed. The two would never bring up what happened late at night. There was never a thank you between them, only a silent nod.
While Alastor was lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice his shadow sneak away and return with a blanket from his room. His eyes refocused as he watched his shadow place the blanket over Lucifer. Alastor narrowed his eyes. Shadow Alastor noticed and gave him a pathetic look before disappearing.
Most of the time when the King of Hell fell asleep on the sofa late at night, Alastor simply left him. His shadow would normally bring him a blanket covered in ducks down from the devil’s room. This time, his shadow brought one of his own. It left an interesting feeling in his chest to see the king curled into his blanket. As if sensing what his Shadow wanted, or perhaps what he really wanted, Alastor stood up and brushed his hands down his pants to fix them.
“Very well, we will take him upstairs,” Alastor said as his radio filter dropped.
Alastor’s shadow jumped to attention with a smile and a pep in his step. Alastor did not enjoy touching people, especially ones that he was…confused about.
Alastor’s smile tightened as he lifted the King of Hell into his arms. His shadow placed Lucifer’s book on the table. Alastor froze as the devil shifted, his head nuzzling into Alastor’s chest. The radio demon had to stop himself from letting out a ring of feedback.
A burn formed in his chest from the movement. Its fire started to fill his hollow chest with something. He wasn’t sure if he liked it. The sensation only grew as the original sin nuzzled further into Alastors’ shirt, sighing happily. His shadow opened up a portal and Alastor stepped in, noticing his smile had gone soft. He truly was confused.
Alastor appeared inside the devil’s room. Thousands upon thousands of rubber ducks lined the walls, and he sneered. Alastor had only been here a few times. Mostly on missions to see if Lucifer was alive by the request of Charlie, but he had never been inside. The decorations were so gaudy but so hauntingly Lucifer’s. Alastor’s shadow pulled back the sheets on the devil’s bed, and Alastor himself placed the sleeping devil upon the sheets. His long claws gently gripped the end of Lucifer’s sheets and comforters and pulled them up. He watched as the little king nuzzled into the covers involuntarily. Alastor was about to turn and leave when he heard a quiet…
“Thank you, Al…as…tor…” with a heavy yawn after, horns making themselves aware and slowly slinking back into his form.
Alastor froze, smile falling slightly. The devil was awake, and he likely had been the entire time the radio demon carried him here. Did he dare say anything? He should just leave. Ignore whatever was brewing in his chest and move on with his life. Alastor saw his shadow whimper. Fine…
“Sleep well…Lucifer,” Alastor said, something unspoken hanging with his words. The radio demon turned and snapped, turning on the radio in the devils room. Light jazz started to fill the room just like it did in the lobby, and Alastor once again returned to the shadows of his room.
~~~
Lucifer blinked his eyes open. Alastor said goodnight? That wasn’t like him. Wait, where was he? He was in his room? Not the living room? Alastor carried him here? The radio demon carried him here? Sure, they had their moments, Lucifer normally falling asleep on the couch. But, BUT! He always woke up the next morning or after a few hours on the couch. Alastor would always be gone! Bambi didn’t have the nerve to carry him up here or even the care to! Surely he must be trying to get at him in some way with this. There was no way this was genuine! But what if it was… Oh but what if it was?
A golden blush fell lightly over Lucifer’s checks. NO. NO. NO. This was wrong. But, it wasn’t like Alastor wasn’t totally ugly. No, he was much more than that. The perfectly trimmed appearance offered a certain air to him, but the tells of how the radio demon actually felt were more than intoxicating. The way his ears twitched at certain things Lucifer said.mThe way Alastor’s eyes softened even for just a second when Lucifer showed his exhaustion.
Lucifer caught himself. Alastor hated him, but his actions tonight certainly didn't show that. Lucifer pulled himself from his thoughts for a second to hear the music Alastor had put on. A familiar burning was in Lucifer’s chest when he heard the soft jazz over the radio. Maybe Alastor did really care under his murderous intent. However, the King of Hell was way too tired and comfortable to continue the laps his mind was running. He closed his eyes and fell peacefully back asleep, warmed by the comfort and safety he felt in his chest. Green and black notes danced over Lucifer’s scars as the king slept until morning.