Archive of Our Own ^beta

This is getting ridiculous.

Ever since they rebuilt the hotel and Lucifer moved in, it seems like he and Charlie barely spend any time together. He had thought that with his offer to help, and his subsequent proximity, they would grow closer, get to know each other better, catch up! Or at least meet to discuss plans for how to move forward. But to his chagrin, the one Charlie goes to with her ideas for the hotel is Alastor. It makes sense in a way. Alastor is the host of the hotel and, as much as he hates to admit it, he has been working with Charlie on this project since before Lucifer reentered her life.

Lucifer watches Alastor from across the room. Charlie has him engaged in yet another conversation about her newest redemption activity for the residents of the hotel. Well… it’s more of a one-sided conversation as Charlie is excitedly monologuing at Alastor while he politely ‘listens’ (if you can call staring at someone with a placid ‘smile’ on your face ‘listening’). Charlie keeps waving her hands around enthusiastically, nearly hitting Alastor a few times as he strategically sidesteps away from her to avoid a collision. Lucifer heaves an aggravated sigh as he watches them. Hunched over, he sits at the bar, chin resting on one hand, a glass of wine occupying the other. He usually doesn’t drink this early in the morning, but Charlie had been it for almost an hour already and he’d needed something to take the edge off his mood.

Alastor spots him watching them and grabs Charlie’s hands in his, smiling brightly as he gives her his approval and words of encouragement. Then he looks past her directly at Lucifer and sneers. Lucifer snarls in response and grips the wine glass so hard the stem breaks in half and wine spills over the bar top and down his front, staining his white suit. Husk, watching this whole interaction, just rolls his eyes at the situation and grumbles something that sounds a lot like ‘idiot’, sharing a pointed look with Angel on his way to grab a rag from the back.

Alastor leans in closer to Charlie to continue talking and Lucifer abruptly stands. His eyes are still locked with Alastor’s while he starts to stomp walk over there. However, before he can make it even halfway across the room Charlie squeals in delight and wraps her arms around Alastor, squeezing tight. Lucifer’s stomach lurches, jealousy bubbling up like fire and he moves faster across the room, balling his hands into fists as he goes. He expects to see Alastor’s mocking stare. Instead, he’s met with a blank expression and before he can even process what that could possibly mean, he senses it—angelic energy. He slows his pace, confused.

“Oh! Sorry, Al! I forgot you don’t like hugs.” Charlie sheepishly steps back, curling into herself a bit as she apologetically looks up at him. It takes Alastor several seconds to respond.

“…quite alright, dear,” he huffs out, uncharacteristically strained, and then continues, “Now then, I have some things to attend to.” And like that, Alastor dissipates into shadows. Charlie runs off to fill Vaggie in on the new idea, skipping and twirling up the stairs, and Lucifer is left alone, mid-stride, covered in wine, and thoroughly confused.

What the hell was that?

Lucifer decides to reflect on what just happened in the comfort of his own room. He portals himself there, too emotionally drained to go on foot and risk interacting with others along the way. As soon as he’s inside he undoes his stained jacket and throws it on the couch along with his hat and cane. He clasps his hands behind his back and paces the length of his room as he thinks. Alastor had been mocking him, as usual. That was normal. Charlie had hugged Alastor (don’t think about that too deeply, she’s like that with everyone!) and he had stiffened up. Well, that could be normal, too. The Radio Demon did not appear to enjoy physical contact with anyone (unless it pissed a certain king of Hell off). Alastor’s smile was always present, perfectly curated, and unwavering. Yet earlier his expression was… almost a grimace. And that was definitely not normal. Then there was the sudden surge of angelic energy. Where the hell had that come from? It disappeared as soon as Alastor had, which was even more confusing. How the fuck was the Radio Demon able to possess such holy energy without it eating away at him? What was Lucifer missing here?

He was suddenly exhausted and he had a headache. This was too much thinking after an early morning of interacting with the rest of the hotel inhabitants. He could continue his theories later. For now, he laid down on the couch and drifted to sleep.

_______________

Hours later, just before dinner, Lucifer awoke with a start. His heart was racing and there were fresh tear tracks staining his face. ‘Great, another nightmare.’ Like always, they started with a happy family and ended with Lilith leaving him and Charlie being disappointed in him. This time it hit a little too close to home with images of Alastor’s smiling face and Charlie’s exuberant one. They had skipped off into the distance with one another, leaving him even further behind, laughing (probably at him, the horridly pathetic being that he is).

Lucifer sighed, wiping the remaining wetness from his face with the back of his hand, and stood up. He manifests a clean jacket and puts it on, practicing the box breath Charlie taught everyone earlier in the week. Breathe in-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four, breathe out-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four. And repeat. After a few minutes of breathing, he feels enough like his usual self to leave for the dining room.

‘For fuck’s sake, why am I wallowing in self-pity? I’m the King of Hell!’ Lucifer admonishes himself and, adorning his signature overconfident grin, he steps out into the hallway.

Two floors down, he hears Charlie’s voice from an open doorway. Slowing his pace, he silently stops just outside, barely peeking around the doorframe, listening.

“I’m worried about him, Vaggie.” Charlie says in a hushed tone.

“I know you are, Charlie, but I’m sure he’s fine. He’s just being…Alastor” Vaggie does not sound very convincing.

“He was fighting Adam, though. I’ve seen the videos of their fight. It was so intense! What if he got hurt? What if that’s why it took him so long to come back? What if—”

“Hun,” Vaggie cuts her off, “There would be nothing left if Adam got a direct hit in. Believe me, I know what he was capable of…” The guilt is heavy in her voice.

“Okay,” Charlie whispers, “I just… I can’t lose anyone else. It hurts too much.”

They lean in, wrapping their arms around one another, holding each other close and Lucifer quietly backs away, leaving them to their private moment.

His mind is racing as he continues on to the dining hall. Charlie was worried about that asshole?! Of course she was, she cared about everyone, worthy or not. ‘You’re certainly not worthy and she cares about you’ his mind helpfully provides. Lucifer shakes that thought away and refocuses his attention on Alastor. He was MIA for a while after Extermination Day and only reappeared just as construction on the new hotel was being completed. He could have just been salty about his loss against Adam. It was Lucifer and Charlie who had truly won that battle and Niffty was the one that technically finished Adam off. But if Alastor fought Adam and was hit, then there was a chance that some of Adam’s angelic energy was still present. The holy light that all angels possess is like a poison to the demonic energy that resides within sinners. It’s drawn to the darkness and consumes it, burning it out of existence. Even if there were only traces of it in Alastor’s system, over time it would spread like an infection and slowly burn him to dust from the inside. It would be an excruciating death.

Alastor’s rigidness and blank expression from Charlie’s hug earlier make a hell of a lot more sense now. He’s probably in agony. Lucifer is briefly horrified and then impressed before his brain settles on furious. That fucker. He must have known for weeks now, since the wound wouldn’t have closed on its own (not until all the holy light has been removed). Is he really just going to pretend everything is fine until he burns away? Is asking for help so beneath him that he’d rather die? How dare he make Charlie worry! And Father dubbed Lucifer as the embodiment of Pride? Ludicrous. He hasn’t met Alastor.

Fully enraged at the sheer stubbornness of the Radio Demon, Lucifer stops his descent to the dining room and turns around, going back the way he came. He’s made up his mind. If Alastor is too obstinate to ask for help, then Lucifer will heal him out of spite. For Charlie. He storms up the stairs and through the halls until he reaches the top floor. Where he would normally turn left for his own room, he now turns right (why Charlie thought it was a good idea to put them on the same floor, he’ll never know). Lucifer stomps down the hall until he reaches Alastor’s door. Without knocking, Lucifer rips the door open, snapping the hinges in the process, and marches over the threshold into Alastor’s room. It’s dim except for the soft glow of a reading lamp and now that he’s here, in the dark, Lucifer loses most of his bravado. His anger dissipates into the darkness like it’s been leeched out of him.

He is met with the sight of Alastor sitting at a small table to the left, under the reading light, wearing an irked expression as he holds a book in front of him.

“Please, come in.” Alastor says with a deadpan tone and a flick of his wrist, eyes going from Lucifer to the door haphazardly discarded on the hallway floor.

And just like that Lucifer is full of fury again. The gall of this overlord to have such a flippant attitude towards him, HIM, the King of Hell!

“Yes! I will!” Lucifer bellows, holding his head high, hands on his hips as he takes another step into the depths of Alastor’s space. Alastor’s eye twitches, irritated smile shifting into something more dangerous.

“And did you need something…sire?” The way Alastor tacks on the address at the end, as an afterthought, makes Lucifer grind his teeth. ‘Remember why you’re here, Lucifer. For Charlie.’

“As a matter of fact I do. I heard about you’re tussle with Adam before I arrived at the battle and—” Before Lucifer can finish his sentence Alastor jolts to his feet, chair propelled backward and clattering to the floor with a loud CLACK!

“LEAVE.” Alastor snarls, dials appearing in his eyes briefly as radio static crackles violently around them. It’s the most out of control Lucifer has ever seen him and he fleetingly wonders if the sudden movement hurt. Lucifer swiftly pushes that thought as far away as it can go because what the fuck. He takes another step forward and growls.

“Listen,” he starts, tone stern, “I know you’re hurt. I can feel the angelic energy radiating off of you. If you just let me heal—”

“GET. OUT.” Alastor punctuates each word as he turns towards him, the static screeching, his antlers beginning to grow.

“Oh, you insufferable, infuriating, obstinate, DEER,” Lucifer retaliates, rolling his eyes and heaving a loud, exasperated sigh, “Why are you so determined to DIE? Hmm? Because that’s what will happen if you don’t DO ANYTHING. The holy light will consume you—your demonic energy, your memories, your soul. It will burn everything you have from the inside out until there’s nothing left but dust. You’ll never heal unless I remove it from you.” Alastor, sufficiently placated now that reality is setting in (or so Lucifer hopes), averts his eyes to stare at the fallen door once again.

“I have been managing perfectly fine on my own.” He spits out unconvincingly. Lucifer barks out a laugh.

“Ha! Oh yes… splendid. Can’t even accept a hug from my daughter without flinching away in pain. Yes, you’ve got it under control.” He flashes Alastor the ‘a-okay’ hand gesture and purses his lips together in a sarcastic display.

Alastor bristles, but remains silent.

“Great, so we’re in agreement, then.” Lucifer’s tone is stony, but inside he feels that familiar thrill, the one he only gets when trading insults with Alastor. ‘Not the time’ Lucifer tells himself and steps closer, so he’s directly in front of Alastor. They don’t speak, eyes locked, staring at each other. A silent conversation passes between them, neither moving except for the barely audible inhales and exhales dispersing in the dim light.

Then Lucifer flicks his gaze down, glancing at Alastor’s chest, where he knows the gash Adam made is still raw and open (he can clearly feel the angelic energy coursing from it for fuck’s sake). Carefully, slowly, Lucifer reaches out to touch, but just before his hand makes contact Alastor’s snaps up and grips his forearm tight enough to draw a wince from Lucifer if he’d let it. Alastor’s feral smile doesn’t fluctuate, but Lucifer knows he’s calculating. He sees the way Alastor’s eyes sharpen their focus on him, looking at his outstretched arm while his eyes remain locked with Lucifer’s, refusing to cede control. Stubbornly, defiantly, Lucifer pushes his arm forward despite Alastor’s deathgrip and Alastor squeezes harder. This time Lucifer does wince, just a tiny bit, and Alastor, predator that he is, notices, wicked smile growing even wider.

Fuck this guy, seriously.

When Lucifer’s hand finally reaches Alastor’s chest, fingers splayed out and palm flat against the area of greatest angelic energy, Alastor flinches. An imperceptible movement to anyone else, but oh does Lucifer relish in it, flashing Alastor a devilish grin of his own in response. ‘Gotcha, bastard.' Alastor’s eye twitches and narrows, smile turning into a full-blown sneer and Lucifer can feel the air in the room turn cold. Ah, well, time to finish what he started then.

It’s surprising that despite all Lucifer’s time in Hell he hasn’t lost his connection to his angelic power. Case in point, he brings forth the holy light like it’s nothing, pulling it from his core and pushing it out through his hand on Alastor’s chest. He pushes the energy through the layers of Alastor’s clothing and into his wound, forcing a hiss out of the Radio Demon as the static around them grows louder. He concentrates on wrapping tendrils of his own energy around Adam’s residual, intermixing them together, before slowly pulling both back into himself. Lucifer could stop there, his paternal obligation to Charlie fulfilled (after all, Alastor will no longer succumb to the holy light coursing within him and will heal on his own now that it’s out of his system). But there’s something in the way Alastor is frozen, still gripping his arm, holding his breath, that causes Lucifer to pause. ‘He’s waiting.’

Alastor’s eyes are feral as Lucifer meets them again and he hates how he has to look up at him, but then he sees it—a flash of panic. Lucifer smirks while he pushes his angelic energy back through his hand to finish closing the wound on Alastor’s chest. Alastor practically vibrates with outrage. Lucifer can barely contain his delight as he removes his hand from Alastor’s chest, twisting it out of his grip and taking a step back. He rubs his arm nonchalantly and glances back at Alastor, who is seething.

“You bastard—” Alastor starts, but Lucifer cuts him off.

“I know you would heal on your own, but with the way you were begging me to continue with your eyes,” Lucifer drops his chin so he can look at Alastor from under hooded eyelids. He flashes Alastor a smirk and finishes in a sultry tone, “I just couldn’t resist.”

Alastor’s reaction is perfect. Radio static surges again, roaring and echoing in the room, almost loud enough to rupture his eardrums. Alastor’s eye twitches and his teeth clench so hard Lucifer can hear the grind over the static. It fills Lucifer with glee and he has a sudden realization: nothing he has ever experienced in his eons of life compares to the thrill of getting Alastor to break his composure. Just as suddenly as the thought enters his mind, he blanches (an accomplishment given how pale he is naturally).

“Aha-ha,” Lucifer laughs self-consciously, shoulders hunching forward and hands wringing together. “Well then I’m just going to…” he trails off. The awkward silence stretches on for a few seconds before Lucifer abruptly rips a portal open and bolts through.

_______________

Lucifer unceremoniously falls into the dining room from the ceiling. Limbs flailing to brace for impact, he lands on the ground with an ‘oompf’. Sitting up and rubbing his forehead, which had definitely not smacked clean against the floor tile, Lucifer notices the group standing next to him.

“Dad?” Charlie drops down to his side, “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey Char Char!” Lucifer jumps to his feet, fists on his hips in feigned poise. “Just thought I’d pop down for dinner! You know, ‘hang’ with the ‘gang’.” He makes air quotes to spotlight his use of ‘slang’ words, and smiles brightly at her, praying to Father that she buys the act.

“Ooo-kaay…” Charlie replies slowly, climbing to her feet and giving Lucifer a quizzical look. “Well, dinner’s almost ready, we’re just talking while we wait.” With that, she turns back to the group and rejoins the conversation. There is probably something to note about the way no one else had been fazed by Lucifer’s unconventional entrance, but Lucifer lets it go in favor of standing awkwardly on the outskirts of the conversation, a passive participant.

He lets his mind wander back to Alastor. The panic in his eyes as he realized Lucifer was going to heal him fully was…unexpected. He had, of course, expected Alastor to be upset at receiving more help than they had silently agreed upon (that man has a stubborn penchant for self-reliance), but why that fleeting look of anxiety? Did he think Lucifer had changed his mind and was going to kill him? But if he had thought that, he would have put distance between them the moment Lucifer removed the last bit of Adam’s holy light. So why had he stood so still after the initial healing, only to panic moments later? All Lucifer had done at that time was look up at him—

It’s at that moment that Alastor appears in the doorway of the dining hall, materializing from shadow.

“Hi, Al!” Charlie turns away from the group for a moment to greet him with a wave and he nods at her, smiling. Then his head snaps to Lucifer on the other side of the group and he makes a beeline to him. Lucifer can’t help the way his stomach flip-flops in anticipation. Alastor stops a foot in front of him and bends at the waist to meet him at eye level.

“Your Majesty.” Alastor practically purrs, flashing Lucifer a sharp grin. He snaps back up to full height and feigns nonchalance as he turns a shoulder away, bringing his hand up to inspect his nails as he continues speaking, “Fancy seeing you here. Funny… with the speed at which you fled, I would have expected you to be cowering in your room, ruminating in solitude, as is your proclivity.”

’Fuck.' So Alastor had noticed his sudden self-consciousness before. Well, two could play at that game.

“Ha!” Lucifer laughs with mock joviality, “You expect wrong! I merely gave you time to contemplate your inner strife at facing the reality of needing to be healed—”

Lucifer relishes in the fury that engulfs Alastor as he surges forward, bending to gather the front of Lucifer’s jacket in his fist and pull him close, static so thick in the air he can almost feel the weight of it.

“Ah, so feeling much better I see!” Lucifer doesn’t even flinch.

“You arrogant, impudent devil—”

“Aha! Yes, that’s me,” Lucifer interjects.

“The absolute audacity to completely sidestep our agreement. A total disregard for my boundaries—”

“That’s rich,” Lucifer interjects again, rolling his eyes. “Seeing as you’re not respecting mine right now,” he mumbles under his breath.

“FUCK you,” Alastor retorts, but he releases Lucifer and stands up straight again, just to look down at him peevishly.

“You know if you weren’t so stupidly obstinate and had just asked for my help in the beginning, maybe you wouldn’t have almost died, asshole.” Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest and stares back at Alastor, petulant frown affixed to his face. Alastor, ever the one to hate showing any form of weakness, bristles at the announcement of his near-death to the group, who have been very invested in their bickering since Alastor arrived.

“Al! You almost died?!” Charlie brings her hands up to cover her mouth, whispering, “I didn’t know you were hurt that badly…” Alastor ignores her.

“I didn’t ask you to ‘save me’,” He bites out at Lucifer, not needing to use air quotes to stress the last two words.

“And I did anyway!” Lucifer shouts back, exasperated. He throws his hands up in the air and huffs out an annoyed, “So you’re welcome!”

“Alright, divorced dads!” Angel Dust chimes in from the group that is openly staring at the pair. “Honestly, the constant bickering is getting kinda old. I mean come on, just shut up and kiss already. Zeesh!”

All at once, Lucifer turns a violent shade of gold, Alastor pales, and Vaggie, Husk, and Cherri simultaneously turn away to hide a snort of laughter.

“Ooookaaaay.” Charlie draws out, surveying the situation, wide-eyed and drained. She observes her dad and Alastor, who are still staring at one another. Except now, instead of the uncanny sparkle in their eyes from before (when they were arguing), Lucifer looks mortified and Alastor is wearing an expression of abject horror. Charlie takes a breath and steps forward, placing a hand on each of their shoulders before either of them can escape.

“This has been…” she pauses as she struggles to find the right words. “A lot,” she finishes after failing to come up with anything else.

“Alastor,” she continues sternly and Lucifer perks up at the admonishing tone, “I wish you would have told us you were hurt. It’s been months. We could have helped!” Before Alastor can respond, she turns towards Lucifer.

“And Dad!” She frowns at him and it’s Alastor’s turn to look smug. “Thank you for healing Alastor, but you really didn’t need to talk to him that way.”

“Wha— But, Charlie, I— HE—” Lucifer looks affronted as he points at Alastor, sputtering and fumbling over his words.

“Dad!” She gives him a stern look and he shrinks back.

“Fine.” He grumbles, pouting and, under his breath, adds, “Next time I’ll just let him die.”

But Charlie hears him and whines out a frustrated ‘Daaad’ in response. Alastor is chuckling now, smile back to its usual Cheshire Cat quality. Charlie releases their shoulders as the chef pops their head in to announce dinner is ready and everyone makes their way to their seats, except two.

“After you, sir.” Alastor gestures towards the table with blatantly sarcastic courteousness.

“Oh no, please. I insist.” Lucifer gestures right back, flashing Alastor a smile that’s all teeth.

Charlie rolls her eyes at their display. But as she takes a seat next to Vaggie at the dinner table she smiles. It has been so long since she’s seen her dad with such vitality. He’s been listless since Lilith left, or has it been even longer than that? Whatever the case, it has been too long since he’s had that spark in his eyes. She’s happy he found his fire again. Why the fuck it’s from throwing insults back and forth with the Radio Demon of all people, Charlie will never understand. But she is happy for him.

Glancing to her left, Charlie lets out a groan as she stares at the two in question, who have finally reached the table and are now in a shoulder-to-shoulder brute-force power struggle for the remaining open seat next to her. She drops her forehead to the table.

Seriously, this is getting ridiculous.