Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was back.

For the first time in almost a hundred years, he stood in his clearing holding Lucifer’s hand. The soft moss under his feet squelched with water, and the rain continued to patter against the umbrella, drowning out the sound of the rest of the world. A small breeze made the leaves rustle and a few raindrops sprinkle over his skin. It made him shiver.

He breathed deeper through his nose, feeling the scent of wet mud, briny swamp water, and a tinge of salt enter his lungs and surround his hammering heart. The dark trees surrounding them were mostly illuminated by the still-open portal behind them. However, with his enhanced, demonic vision, he could still see better than when he’d been there last.

Not that he needed to see. He knew his way around well enough to do it blind.

At least, he used to. A lot could’ve happened in a hundred years, and from the rapid, technological development after the wars, he couldn’t help but feel a little worried that the world he once knew was very different from how he remembered it. That didn’t stop the calm that washed over him by being in his spot, though. The real one.

No, their spot, he thought as he felt Lucifer adjust his grip on his hand.

“Not to ruin the moment,” Lucifer murmured from beside him, “but I think maybe you should be the one to carry the umbrella.”

Alastor glanced down at him, seeing him stretching his hand as far up as he could just to get the umbrella high enough to cover them both. He took it wordlessly, watching as his husband turned to the portal, waving at the people grinning at them from the other side.

“Have fun!” Charlie said, followed by a chorus of well-wishes from the rest of them.

“We will,” Lucifer replied gently, letting the portal close. The world around them became bathed in shadow.  “At least, I hope we will,” Lucifer added with a slight grimace. His eyes were glowing, making it easy to see how he took in their surroundings. “You know, since it’s been a while since we were here last,” he said, voicing Alastor’s own concerns. “I’m sure it’s not that different, right? At least not out here. The city, though…”

“Are you still nervous?” Alastor asked, making Lucifer laugh nervously.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, a tight grin stretching across his lips. “I just don’t want this to somehow backfire spectacularly.”

“Is there a reason it would?”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “Possibly,” he admitted. “Also, maybe not. How does it feel to be back?” he asked before Alastor could keep questioning him.

“Strange,” Alastor said, because yeah, it was strange. Another breeze made him tighten his grip on the umbrella to keep it from flying out of his hand. “Good,” he added when he felt it wasn’t enough. “Terrifying.”

Lucifer hummed quietly, squeezing his hand. “I agree,” he said. “It’s bringing back a lot of memories, too,” he muttered. “Like laying right over there with my guts spilling out of me.”

“It wasn’t that dramatic,” Alastor argued, looking at the spot Lucifer was talking about. The one close to the river where he’d held him and tried his best to keep from losing his mind (though, in hindsight he probably already had, by then). “There were no guts.”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure there were,” Lucifer retorted playfully.

“How much did you drink?” Alastor questioned, making Lucifer bark out a laugh.

“Not enough to lose my memory,” he huffed. “Fine, there weren’t any guts, but I was actively bleeding out for about an hour before you left.”

“That I can mostly agree with,” Alastor said, not caring to mention Lucifer had been faking that, too. “Now, where are we going?”

Lucifer stayed quiet for a moment, looking like he was either not completely sure, or just contemplating how to reveal where they were staying. It made a tiny flicker of suspicion enter Alastor’s mind, making him narrow his eyes at his partner. The suspicion grew bigger when Lucifer looked up at him, eyes shimmering with a certain intensity that could only be from yet another surprise Lucifer had planned for him.

“Why don’t you find out?” Lucifer asked, confirming Alastor’s suspicion.

Alastor stared at him for a long moment, before he hesitantly turned to the forest around them. He tried to reorient himself, bringing back memories of how to traverse the bayou the best way to get to where he knew they were heading. The rain continued to tap against the fabric of the umbrella in his hand as he took a step forwards, feeling Lucifer follow him.

The moss sloshed under their shoes as they made their way towards the treeline. If they’d been at the hotel, it would’ve been in the direction of where his bed was. Not seeing it made him feel a slight desperation hit him at the same time as another round of hesitation. He wanted to go where he knew they were heading, yet he was afraid of what he would find.

He saw the path he’d walked a million times before. Well, barely. It was overgrown and difficult to make out in the dark, even with the enhanced vision. He stepped carefully, avoiding roots and tufts of grass that hadn’t been there before. It would take some time getting used to the differences in terrain, but not a lot.

He felt Lucifer stumble behind him and paused for long enough for his husband to regain his footing, before he kept walking. Lucifer mumbled something about being a little more drunk than he thought, but Alastor had a feeling it was more than that. The nerves made his hand tremble faintly in Alastor’s hold. He’d definitely done something. Alastor knew it would be special, but from how much Lucifer was freaking out, he couldn’t help but worry that he’d done something too over the top. Still, the more he thought about it, the more he felt confident that he’d done something perfect. He’d planned that entire day down into the smallest details, even getting damned forest spirits from the time they’d been on Earth last to help out with the wedding. He’d reunited him with his mother, for crying out loud. He’d brought him back to Earth! To Earth! And they walked closer to what had to be the last surprise for the night, which Alastor became more and more certain about what was the closer they got.

The umbrella scraped against the branches. It almost got stuck in some twigs or leaves for every new step he took. It started to get on his nerves if he was being honest.

“Do we need the umbrella, or was it just to spare the outfits?” Alastor asked, slowing to a stop when the fabric hooked itself on yet another branch.

Lucifer shrugged. “I didn’t know if you cared about the rain or not,” he answered simply. “I can get rid of it if you want.”

Alastor let go of Lucifer’s hand and closed the annoying thing, feeling the heavy drops of water drip into his hair as he handed it over to Lucifer. His husband grabbed it and let it vanish out of existence, before he turned his face up into the air, squinting against the rain. Alastor snorted at him. It made Lucifer giggle, too, before he sucked in a deep breath and let it out as a joyful sigh. Alastor reached over and cradled Lucifer’s face, feeling the wet skin under his fingers. Lucifer continued to grin at him as Alastor leaned down, capturing his lips with his own. He felt Lucifer’s hand brush against the side of his face. The faint taste of blood and rainwater made him hum.

“Are you stalling?” Lucifer muttered against his lips.

“A little bit,” Alastor replied.

Lucifer pulled back, that gentle smile back on his face as he combed his fingers through Alastor’s hair. Alastor leaned into the touch.

“You know what it is, don’t you?” Lucifer asked quietly.

“I have a hunch,” Alastor replied, feeling Lucifer’s hand settle on his shoulder. “I just don’t know what to expect.”

“We wrecked the entire thing and built a small castle,” Lucifer said, clearly trying his best to sound as serious as he could.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Alastor deadpanned.

“You’ll just have to find out, then,” Lucifer prompted, grinning slyly. “I’m really happy with how it turned out.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t been to Earth?”

“No, but I got some pictures,” Lucifer explained, patting his shoulder. “I want to say you’ll love it, but you know… I can’t really tell for sure until you actually see it for yourself.”

“Well, the other surprises went well, so this could either make it or ruin it completely,” Alastor said, grinning evilly. “No pressure.”

“Fuck you. I’m already nervous enough about this,” Lucifer grumbled, moving out of Alastor’s hold.

Alastor hummed, knowing for a fact that there was just about nothing that could ruin it other than actually finding a castle where there once was a house. He decided not to think about it too much as he slipped his hand back into Lucifer’s and tugged him along toward their destination.

“Then I believe we should get this little trip over… with?” He stopped, feeling his ears snap to attention and turn to the left. He turned his head to look into the darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but he thought he’d heard something. It almost sounded like a whimper. “Did you hear that?”

Lucifer frowned, turning to follow his gaze. “No?”

They stood there, silently. Listening. Alastor couldn’t hear anything other than the rain hitting the ground, the leaves on the trees rustling and the faint sound of the trickling river in the distance. He breathed in the air around him, trying to use his sense of smell only to be met with the same, earthly scent he’d smelled earlier. It was too unfamiliar yet familiar to be able to discern anything special.

“Can you still hear it?” Lucifer whispered.

“Not if you keep talking,” Alastor replied dryly. Lucifer fell silent, giving his hand a squeeze. They waited for another couple of minutes before Alastor sighed. “Must’ve been the wind,” he muttered. Still, he continued to stare into the treeline just to see if maybe he could see anything. When he felt like he’d been standing there for long enough, he narrowed his eyes and kept walking, pulling Lucifer with him.

“Are you sure?” Lucifer asked when he apparently felt like he could speak again. “I mean, if we’re not alone out here—”

“Who would be outside in the bayou while it’s raining other than animals?” Alastor asked as he stepped over a particularly big root. He stopped and let Lucifer lean on his hand while he made his way over it, too.

“Other than a cannibalistic serial killer and his trusty, devilishly handsome sidekick?” Lucifer retorted as Alastor rolled his eyes and kept walking. “I mean, we can’t be the only ones who enjoyed running around in the bayou.” He looked over his shoulder at the trees. “If the city has gotten a lot bigger, why wouldn’t people enjoy getting away from it for a while?”

“In the middle of the night?” Alastor questioned doubtfully. When Lucifer shrugged a shoulder, he sighed. “We’re in a pretty deserted part of the bayou,” he muttered. “And it sounded more like a whimper than anything else. If some fool walked out here in the middle of the night and got attacked by an alligator, then that’s on them.”

“I’m kinda curious now, actually,” Lucifer muttered, continuing to look over his shoulder. “Though, I guess we can go check it out in the morning.”

“You want to go running around the bayou looking for a dead body?” Alastor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer glanced up at him. “Sure? I mean, I remember it being quite fun when we were here last.”

“Last time we were here, we were the ones killing people,” Alastor said. The rain had soaked through his jacket and he could feel his hair flatten against his skull. It was a strange, yet familiar feeling. One that he’d missed quite a bit, if he was being honest. He knew it wasn’t great to walk around in the rain when he’d been alive—especially not with the potential for pneumonia and dying, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable. The smells, the sounds. A hidden beauty not too many people cared to experience.

“More you than me,” Lucifer huffed as he slipped on a particularly muddy spot on the ground. Alastor caught him easily. He looked just as soaked as Alastor did as he wiped a hand over his face to get rid of the worst of the water. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in action, again, to be honest.”

Alastor stumbled to a halt. “What?”

“Look,” Lucifer said as he took the lead, pulling Alastor with him. “Last time I watched you skin someone alive was during the war. It’s been a while.”

“You’re fine with me killing humans?” Alastor asked incredulously.

It was Lucifer’s time to stop. He turned to look at him. “Since when did I mind you killing humans?”

And, yeah, true, Alastor thought. They wouldn’t be standing right there in the bayou—married, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Lucifer had literally joined him on his serial killing and helped him cover up his murders. Him suddenly having a change of heart for humans in general clearly hadn’t changed, even if his thoughts on sinners had.

“Wouldn’t Heaven be mad if I did?”

“Wouldn’t all killers be eradicated if they did?”

“But we’re demons?” Alastor said.

Lucifer’s lips split into a sharp grin. “Yes? Do you think I’m the only demon who’s ever killed someone on Earth?” Alastor stared at him. “The assassins primarily kill humans. Other demons who go to Earth kill humans for fun. Then there’re the humans who make deals and break them. They end up dead, too.” When Alastor still didn’t answer, Lucifer tilted his head. “Hell, even angels have killed humans, so if they cared about it, they’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?” Lucifer took a small step closer to him. “So, if you’re up for it—”

“Yes,” Alastor cut him off. His heart was speeding up, again. He’d sometimes dreamed about getting back to Earth, wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t die so soon. He’d probably keep killing people (and get caught without his ‘devilishly handsome sidekick’ by his side). “Yes, I am,” he repeated, because damn it if he hadn’t missed the thrill of hunting down someone.

“Hope you don’t mind some company,” Lucifer muttered mischievously, letting Alastor pull him into another kiss. Alastor couldn’t help the way his heart skipped in his chest. He’d almost thought that becoming a ruler of Hell would snuff his chances at ever actually doing something he loved, yet here his husband was, telling him he could just go ahead and do more or less whatever he pleased. It made him love him all the more, somehow.

Lucifer wrapped his arms around his waist. “I really don’t care who you kill,” he said when Alastor pulled back. “They’re just going to Heaven or Hell, anyway. As long as you don’t destroy their souls, I’m fine with it.”

“I don’t kill just anyone,” Alastor reminded him.

“I know,” Lucifer said. “Even better.” He pulled Alastor a little closer and took a small step back. It forced Alastor to follow him, which he quickly realised was just a slow dance. “To spend one night with you,” he sung quietly, the faint sound of a saxophone in the background where it echoed through the trees and mixed with the patter of rain. “In our old rendezvous,” he continued sweetly, smiling up at Alastor when he followed Lucifer’s lead. “And reminisce with you, that’s my desire.”

He swayed to the music, and Alastor leaned down, pressing his forehead against his. Water dripped down his nose and ran down from his temples as he listened to his husband’s voice fill the air around them.

“To meet where gypsies play, down in that dim café,” Lucifer continued, keeping up his small sway. Alastor couldn’t stop staring at the glowing, red eyes gazing up at him. “And dance ‘till the break of day, that’s my desire.”

Alastor ran his hand up from Lucifer’s shoulder and let it rest against the junction between his jaw and his neck, careful not to restrict his ability to sing. He just felt like he had to hold onto him. Not cradle him, per se, but—okay maybe a little bit. He really enjoyed the gentle dance, which was barely anything other than moving around in a small circle on the narrow path. He guessed he couldn’t complain about the furby and the duck not being able to dance properly when this was all it took to capture his attention to this extent.

“We’ll sip a little glass of wine,” Lucifer sung. “I’ll gaze into your eyes divine.” He grinned, pupils widening a little as his eyes flickered back and forth, taking in the sight of Alastor’s eyes before they snapped down to his lips. “I’ll feel the touch of your lips pressing on mine,” he muttered hoarsely, before his eyes once again found Alastor’s. “To hear you whisper low, just when it’s time to go,” he smiled, eyes crinkling, “Cherie, I love you so,” he whispered quietly. “You’re my desire.”

He closed his eyes. Alastor still stared at him, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of his jaw while the music continued to play around them.  

“To hear you whisper low, just when it’s time to go,” Lucifer repeated as his eyes fluttered open, again. “Cherie, I love you so, you’re my desire.” He pushed himself up on his toes so his lips were brushing against Alastor’s. “You’re my desire,” he finished gently, the smooth jazz fading out and getting exchanged with the sound of pure rain as he pressed their lips together a little more firmly.

“I love you so,” Alastor whispered when Lucifer lowered himself back down.

“I love you, too,” he murmured, eyes sparkling as he let go of Alastor’s waist and grabbed both his hands. He walked backwards, pulling him with him. The fact that he wasn’t stumbling at all made Alastor wonder if maybe his husband enjoyed letting him think he was helping him out with the terrain. Lucifer could apparently see his suspicion, grinning wryly as he continued to lead him up the path.

Alastor walked a little faster so they could walk side by side, instead. Lucifer let go of one of his hands and intertwined their fingers, bumping his shoulder against Alastor’s arm. Alastor felt the song get stuck in his head. He hummed the melody quietly as they continued their walk through the bayou. Lucifer tapped the beat with his pinkie finger against Alastor’s skin.

They were getting closer, Alastor realised after a while, having felt himself getting lost in everything from the sound of the bayou, to the smell, to the song, to the way his husband was holding his hand, and just the thought of actually being back on Earth. If he’d thought getting married felt surreal, then being back in his bayou was completely unbelievable. It felt like he was dreaming. For a moment, he thought he was, but then he felt another tap of Lucifer’s pinkie against the back of his hand, grounding him enough to make him realise it was real.

They paused when they heard a rustling in the distance. Both stared into the dark where the sound had come from, Alastor feeling the same unease he’d felt when he thought he’d heard someone whimpering.

A deer stepped out from behind a tree, staring at them. They stared back for a moment, before Lucifer snorted. The doe’s ears flicked at the sound, but it didn’t move.

“Hello,” Lucifer greeted it quietly. It didn’t say anything back, but Alastor could almost feel its curiosity. Maybe he actually could? He tried to focus on it. It spiked as the doe took another few steps toward them. Was this what Lucifer had meant back at the palace?

The doe flinched, looking over its shoulder before it ran off into the trees. Alastor could feel its warning, but he was currently the second most dangerous creature around, which meant there wasn’t really anything that could harm him. The weird interaction still made him wonder what was out there, though. Unless the doe just tried to be a little extra careful.

He didn’t know why he was thinking about it. Usually, he’d probably hunt the deer, himself. He guessed that was the closest he could get to cannibalism on Earth, at least. Not that he felt like running after the deer at that moment, though. He still had his husband’s hand in his, and he’d had a fantastic day. He could probably go for a hunt some other time.

Lucifer continued to pull him along the path, and not too long after, Alastor spotted a light through the trees. A soft, warm glow. Right where his old house used to be. It confirmed his hunch that Lucifer had planned on having them stay where it was. He didn’t know what he’d done to make it happen. If the house was still in use, he would’ve had to buy it. If not, and the house had been left to the elements for the past hundred years, he didn’t have too high hopes that there was much left of it.

When he got closer, he could make out the shape of it. It looked exactly the same as when he’d left it the night he’d died. Actually, when he got even closer, and he could see more of it, he realised it looked exactly the same. Down to every plank, every window, every light. Everything looked like it had been paused in time until he could return to it.

They came to a stop in front of the stairs up to the porch. Alastor placed a hand on the railing, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. When he glanced at Lucifer, his husband looked at him softly and pulled something out of his pocket. He held it out for Alastor, who took it and almost lost it from the very familiar weight in his hand. He stared at it, realising it was his old key.

“No one’s lived here, since,” Lucifer muttered. “It was nothing more than a shell of what it once was when I got someone to start rebuilding it,” he continued, waiting for Alastor to step up onto the porch. “I think we managed to get everything as close as possible to the original. The foundation is the same, but it needed some repairs and some updates, so to speak, so it should hold for a really long time. We tried to reuse as much of your house as possible, but there was so much of it that was gone that we had to build most of it from scratch.”

Alastor stepped up the stairs, feeling the solid wood under his soaked shoes. Even the way the wood creaked sounded the same. He felt like he was back in 1933 as he walked over the porch and over to the door. He noticed a couple of chairs sitting side by side overlooking the bayou. The light from the window made them seem like the perfect place to sit on a clear evening with a friend and chat about nothing in particular, maybe with a glass of rye or maybe even wine.

“I took some creative liberties with a couple of things,” Lucifer said, clearly having noticed Alastor’s focus. “The rest should be almost a complete replica of how I remember it.”

Alastor blinked at him, not really comprehending that his husband had somehow managed to remember the house down to how the fucking floorboards creaked.

“How?” Alastor croaked.

Lucifer smiled at him. “Every moment with you is worth remembering,” he said. Alastor raised his eyebrows in astonishment. It made Lucifer snicker. “This place became important to me, too. I wanted it to be as close as possible to the old one.”

Alastor huffed and turned to the door. He hesitated before he put the key in the keyhole and twisted it. It didn’t budge. He turned to Lucifer. Lucifer just tilted his head and blinked slowly. Alastor grabbed the doorhandle and pulled it firmly towards him while he twisted the key. It turned easily.

“How the actual fuck did you—You never unlocked the door!” Alastor exclaimed as he pulled the key back out of the keyhole.

“Observation,” Lucifer said.

“Observation my ass,” Alastor scoffed as he pushed the door open. He let his eyes roam the entrée. Everything still looked exactly the same, except the coats and jackets hanging on the coat rack. They looked a lot more modern, and there were clearly two different sizes. Another one of Lucifer’s ‘creative liberties’ he guessed. He stepped a little farther into the room, looking at the dark, wooden shoe rack with an assortment of different shoes (also more modern and two different sizes).

He opened the door to the next room and looked at the dimly lit room on the other side. There was a small lamp on the windowsill that had been the source of the soft glow through the window. It made it easier to see the rest of the interior. The same, low bookshelf stood under the closest window to his left. The L-shaped couch in the corner of the room under the other two windows in the room—one on the short end, the other beside the first on the long end. A gramophone player stood in the corner by the couch. A piano stood between the door to his old bedroom and the door to the bathroom where his own used to stand.

“Is it…?” Alastor asked.

“No, but we could move it back here if you want to,” Lucifer said from behind him. “It’s up to you.”

The two of them stepped farther into the room. Lucifer looked around like he was seeing it for the first time, too. Alastor realised it was, other than from the pictures he mentioned.

“Did you recreate everything?” Alastor asked as he went over to the bookshelf, crouched down and looked at the books. All of them were the same as the ones that had once been there. Most of them even looked worn.

“Well, most of it,” Lucifer said. “Not the things we managed to track down,” he explained as he went over to the piano. He ran his hand over the wood, opened the fallboard and played a couple of chords. When he noticed Alastor staring at him, he pointed at the coffee table in front of the couch. “One of the things they apparently took. It should be yours.”

Alastor stood up and strolled over to it. He ran his hands over the smooth surface, checking it for the marks he knew should be there. Every stain was the same. Some new ones seemed to have been added to it, but other than that, it looked well taken care of.

“Should I ask where you found it?” he muttered, picking at one of the few knife wounds the table had from times when he’d been a bit too careless placing his knife down on it.

“I think it was in some old lady’s house or something,” Lucifer said while walking over to the gramophone. “Her parents bought it in the early thirties, and then she kept it until now. They bought this one, too,” he added, pointing to the gramophone player.

Alastor joined him, checking the old record player over. He’d gotten it through his work at the radio station, as well as quite a few of the records he had. Not many people had one back in the early thirties. At least not one that could play actual vinyl records.

“It looks flawless,” Alastor muttered.

“I checked over every single thing we found and restored it to the best of my ability, which, you know…” He trailed off with a shrug. “I’m pretty good at fixing things.”

“Indeed,” Alastor said thoughtfully. He continued to walk around, checking the few paintings on the wall over the piano. “Are these also the same ones?”

“One of them,” Lucifer said.

“And the carpets?” Alastor continued to question.

“All new.”

“Hmm.” Alastor kept moving through the house, ending up in the kitchen. He turned on the overhead light, blinking a couple of times to get used to the sudden brightness. The table stood in the middle of the room like it had never left. He pursed his lips and glanced at the fridge. It looked the same, but it felt more modern in a way. He was about to open it when Lucifer rushed over and blocked him. Alastor stared at him. “What?”

Lucifer grinned sheepishly as he cleared his throat. “I just have a small thing for tomorrow in there,” he explained.

“Seriously, how many damned surprises did you plan?” Alastor asked again, because he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that Lucifer kept bringing up something new.

“This should be the last one,” Lucifer said, patting the fridge door awkwardly. “I think. I actually don’t know.”

“So, you can recreate my entire house from memory, but you can’t remember your own surprises?” Alastor questioned, making Lucifer’s sheepish grin turn into a grimace.

“Uhm.”

“Who built it, anyway?” Alastor asked, finally starting to get over the initial shock of being back in his house. He started going through the cupboards and the drawers instead, finding everything he would ever need to cook whatever he wanted. He gave Lucifer a few glances before opening anything, just to make sure he was allowed and wouldn’t end up stumbling over another surprise.

“Well, Stolas and the assassins were quite helpful tracking down the old furniture and such, and then I got some of Ozzie’s succubi and some of the imps from our staff to help rebuild it. Everything went through me, though. Every decision, every plan. Everything is also updated to the latest technology just to keep it from burning down when we’re not around.”

“Are you planning on coming here often?” Alastor asked, closing another cupboard.

“As often as you’d like,” Lucifer replied as he stepped over to the window and gazed out into the darkness. “I was thinking we could use it as a vacation home.”

Alastor huffed in disbelief, before he stepped over to him. Lucifer turned to look at him as he approached. He still had that hint of concern in his eyes, like he was still a little afraid of Alastor hating the house and everything in it. Alastor didn’t, of course. He loved it.

“Splendid idea, love,” he said, seeing the relief in his partner’s eyes. “It’s perfect.”

“You haven’t even seen everything, yet,” Lucifer scoffed.

“Why don’t you show me around, then?” Alastor asked, offering him his hand.

Lucifer glanced at it and smiled, grabbed it and pulled him with him out of the kitchen. He paused by the door to the guest bedroom right outside the kitchen and pushed it open. He started talking about what was new and what was old, like the dresser, before they moved to the next room. Lucifer skipped the door to the basement and went straight for the bathroom, instead, showing off the heated floors and the standing mirror (which they both grimaced at given their soaked-through appearances).

At one point, Alastor had been more busy staring at Lucifer than whatever it was he was showing him. He never let go of Alastor’s hand as he showed him every detail he’d made sure to add, which would probably drive someone else completely mad, but Alastor couldn’t help but feel like he was falling in love all over again. It had been an emotionally tiring day. Damn, it had been a lot of emotions ever since he woke up, yet, here he was, staring at his husband and just listening to his voice as he babbled and rambled on about everything from wooden floorboards to metal pipes, feeling his heart beat a little faster whenever Lucifer grinned proudly at him.

Was it possible to fall in love with someone twice?

Lucifer escorted him out of the bathroom and over to the master bedroom door. He waited, glancing from the door and over to Alastor and back. He gave him an expectant look, clearly wanting Alastor to open it himself. Alastor did and found the room looking like expected. Just like normal, except for a basket filled with a bottle of red wine, a bottle of champagne and two glasses sitting on the bedside table closest to the door. Other than that, the bed under the window looked the same (and was the same, except for the mattress and the duvets/pillows), the drawer and the mirror looked the same, as well as the wardrobe propped up against the far wall.

Lucifer pulled him with him over to the basket. He picked up the wine, checking the label while Alastor started wondering once again how Lucifer had somehow managed to remember how every little nook and cranny looked.

“Did you snoop around while you were here?” Alastor asked, feeling Lucifer’s hand tense up.

“I didn’t exactly go through every cupboard,” Lucifer said, placing the wine bottle back in the basket. “But I mean, you were busy for hours at a time down in the basement, and I got a little bored so I wandered around a bit,” he admitted. “Or slithered, so you wouldn’t hear me.”

“That explains how you knew what the underside of the sink looked like,” Alastor drawled, making Lucifer chuckle. “Who gave us the basket?”

“Looks like it’s from Stolas,” Lucifer said, handing Alastor the small card with the prince’s swirly handwriting. It was just a short note saying he hoped they enjoyed the house and the drinks, which, yeah, Alastor definitely didn’t mind the house, and the drinks was a nice, little gift. “Don’t know if I’m up for even more wine tonight, but I mean, we’re staying here for a few days.” He glanced at Alastor. “If you want to.”

Alastor huffed. “Are you kidding me? Of course, I want to!” He placed the card back in the basket and pulled Lucifer close to him until they were standing chest to chest. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against his forehead, before he met his eyes. “You’ve done so much for me. I don’t know how I can possibly make it up to you.” He wasn’t just talking about that day, but also just in general. Lucifer had always tried his best at helping him out with everything from just having someone to talk to, to helping him kill someone.

Lucifer stared at him, breathing becoming a little shaky. “You already have,” he whispered, echoing himself from earlier.

“I really haven’t,” Alastor argued, because what had he ever done? He’d made life difficult for them both. He’d shared just about nothing about himself during the first year they’d known each other, making it just about impossible for them to find each other in Hell when Alastor died (which had been made even more difficult because of Lilith). He’d refused to talk to him properly until he was literally dying from Adam’s energy and Lucifer had finally confronted him about it and recognised him. Not to mention the whole thing that happened while they tried to stop the war and him refusing to accept his feelings, and thus trying to push Lucifer away whichever way he could come up with. Lucifer never deserved that, and while Alastor had come around and stopped trying to push him away in the end, that still didn’t change how Lucifer had kept respecting his boundaries every second they’d been together. Ever since Earth, even (except the snooping around his house, but that had made it possible to recreate his damned house, which was yet another thing to add to the list of things that Alastor felt he had to make up for somehow).

Lucifer looked down at the bowtie around Alastor’s neck and reached up. He smiled sadly when he squeezed it, seeing the water drip out of the fabric. He moved his hands so one of them rested on Alastor’s chest, the other sliding up to his neck.

“I don’t think you understand,” he started, voice rough. He swallowed thickly as he glanced up at him through his lashes, before he looked away again. “I was depressed. Really depressed.” He took a small breath, fiddling with one of the buttons on Alastor’s jacket. “I felt completely empty for more than six thousand years, and the only thing that made me happy was my daughter.” His voice trembled. “That… She was the only one for a long time. And then I didn’t have her, either. I kept distancing myself from everyone I knew and cared about just to spare them from my fucking mood, and so I had no one for thousands of years.”

Lucifer hadn’t really opened up about his struggles, before. Sometimes, late at night, but nothing more than a brief mention, or in a surface-level way where he never got into the details. He’d told Alastor about how he’d made him happy again—quite a few times just that day, even. It was something he told him quite regularly.

“I don’t know if you know what that feels like,” Lucifer muttered. “Not the amount of time, at least. Imagine feeling nothing for your entire lifetime, and then multiply it by, like, forty-six or something,” he huffed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Alastor tightened his hold on his waist. “And while I felt nothing, I also cared about nothing,” he continued quietly. “I couldn’t care less about Heaven coming down and exterminating sinners. I lost thousands of my subjects. I let thousands of souls die permanently, and I felt nothing,” he hissed. “I only wanted my daughter safe. That was all I ever wanted and was willing to fight for.”

Alastor could feel him shake in his arms, but he didn’t know if he should just hug him a little closer or let him speak. He pulled him closer, moving his hand up to the back of Lucifer’s head, fingers running through his wet hair. Lucifer melted into the hug with a shudder as he buried his face in his chest.

“And then I found you,” he murmured, voice muffled. “And you made me feel, again,” he added after a short pause. “You really did bring me out of that damned, empty void I couldn’t get out of on my own. You made it possible for me to understand what I was doing wrong, and to start working against it. You made it possible for me to accept the shame I felt for letting Hell get run deeper into the ground and for the amount of people I could’ve prevented from getting wiped out of existence. You made it possible for me to change my views on those I perceived as awful, and prevent more of them from being eviscerated.” He sucked in another shaky breath, burying his face deeper into Alastor’s chest. “I don’t want you to think I fell for you just because you helped me so damned much back then. You were always my friend, first and foremost. You always will be. I appreciate you more than you probably know. And this?” He pulled back, gesturing to the house around him before he stared up at him with glossy eyes. “This is the least I could do to make it up to you, for making everything else possible. I’m not doing all these surprises as a wedding gift. It’s a thank you gift for all you’ve ever done for me, for Hell, for Charlie… Everyone.” He sniffled and grinned a wobbly grin. “So, I don’t want to hear anything about making it up to me.”

Alastor stared at him, before he slowly lowered his head so he could knock their foreheads together. He blinked a few times, trying to come up with something to say, but words failed him. At least anything emotional, because he wasn’t kidding when he said it’d been a very emotional day and he felt completely drained.  

“Should we call it even, then?” he asked instead, making Lucifer snort.

“Sure,” he said, the wobbly grin turning more mischievous. “But just know I’ll never feel like I’ve made it up to you, so you’ll just have to live with a few surprises every now and again.”

“Well, I believe that goes both ways,” Alastor retorted. “If I’ll ever come up with anything even remotely close to recreating my house, reuniting me with my mother, somehow managing to create a wedding that I didn’t know I wanted.” He closed his eyes and lowered his voice. “You’re incredible, you know?”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Lucifer rasped, before he leaned up and kissed the corner of Alastor’s mouth. “Thank you for listening to me ramble.”

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” Alastor asked softly.

Lucifer sighed. “I do. I really do, but I think you know how hard it is to open up about some things, right? Especially things we’re ashamed of,” he added. Alastor knew it too well, actually. “But I’ll probably get better at talking about it one day. It’s still a bit fresh.”

“We can only get better at this communication-thing, right?” Alastor huffed.

Lucifer snickered. “Well, I fucking hope so, or else we’re completely fucked. I don’t think Rosie would appreciate us showing up on her doorstep every week just because we couldn’t just talk about things.” He grinned up at him. “If someone deserves something for helping us out, it’s her, don’t you think?”

“Probably,” Alastor agreed, leaning back a bit. “We’ll have to bring her here, one day, too.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Lucifer nodded, his grin becoming something much gentler. “You know you can talk to me, too, right? I know you hate talking about your emotions and so on, but if you ever need to vent about whatever, you know where I am.”

Alastor gave him a short nod. “I do…” He hesitated looking away for a moment as the same restrictiveness of said emotions made it difficult to open up. “I’ll try,” he promised.

Lucifer smiled at him, giving him a gentle squeeze before he let him go. “Well, that’s all I ask.” He grabbed Alastor’s hands and moved backwards towards the door. “Ready to check out the basement?”

“Lead the way,” Alastor huffed, feeling the relief of not having to open up quite yet. He knew he would, eventually. He just didn’t know what to say about it, yet. He’d said some things, but not a lot, and while he wasn’t scared of talking to Lucifer about it (anymore), he felt the slight fear of what would happen to himself if he did. He trusted Lucifer enough to know he’d never tell it to anyone else, which was a trait he previously had only seen in Rosie. Especially living in Hell. Well, he had a feeling the rest of their friends knew how to keep their mouth shut about some things, too, but they lacked the comfort he felt with Lucifer and Rosie.

Lucifer pulled him back into the living room and over to the door to the basement, before he opened it up with a flourish. Alastor looked down into the dark, before he glanced at Lucifer.

“I remembered you telling me about wanting to keep me down here, so…”

“So?” Alastor pressed, making Lucifer giggle and step down the narrow staircase and into the basement below. Alastor followed him, seeing the room light up as Lucifer flipped the light switch. He expected to see the regular, concrete basement that he’d cut up multiple people in.

Well, it didn’t look like pure concrete anymore. A white, tiled floor stretched from wall to wall with a small drain in the corner. The walls were still concrete, but darker. There was what looked like a pressure washer leaning against a stainless-steel table. An operation table with leather straps stood in the middle of the room.

“You sick bastard,” Alastor uttered in pure disbelief. “You made me a damned torture chamber?”

“It gets better,” Lucifer stated, strolling over to the operation table and jumped onto it, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. He nodded at a closet in one of the corners. “Why don’t you open that closet over there?”

Alastor stared at him for a moment longer before he moved over to the closet while giving Lucifer a few uncertain glances. When he got over to it, he paused with his hands on the handles, before he pulled it open.

“What the fuck,” he breathed when he saw the assortment of different knives, surgical equipment, and whatever else he could possibly need. “You’ve got to be joking,” he said as he picked up the old-school bone saw.

“I thought you’d like to have some better options than what you did back then,” Lucifer replied.

Alastor placed the saw back in its place, before his eyes landed on what looked like a box of paper. When he looked closer, he realised it was butcher paper. He straightened his back and closed the doors slowly.

He didn’t know what to feel about it. On one hand, the fact that Lucifer had literally made him a place where he could torture people felt incredibly strange, yet right. Then there was the other part of him that screamed at him that this was wrong, somehow.

He turned to look at Lucifer who was kicking his feet and watching him intently. “Why?”

“Because you love it,” Lucifer said simply. “It’s your escape, I guess. Cutting people up gives you some sort of relief—dad knows I should know, and while I know it’s probably strange with everything we’ve been through, and Charlie most likely not being on board with this, at all, and with all the speeches about being worth following and all that…” Lucifer shrugged. “It was something you enjoyed doing, and I thought I’d give you the option to get back into it if you wanted to.”

Alastor walked over to him. He stepped between his legs and grabbed his face, staring deeply into his eyes. He was looking for any sign of it being a joke. A prank. Anything. But the red eyes gazing back at him held nothing but love, adoration, amusement and truth.

“You’re insane,” was all he managed to say.

“And crazy. And foolish. And a complete nitwit. And probably a little unhinged. Incredibly, stupidly, idiotically in love with a cannibalistic serial killer,” Lucifer listed off playfully. “I realised a long time ago that I could either try and discourage you from continuing with your old ways, or—” Lucifer’s grin turned dangerous. “—I could give you the means to keep going. I mean, it was quite an easy decision, really—”

Alastor smashed their lips together. He felt Lucifer snicker against him as he pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. Alastor’s heart pounded in his chest as he felt Lucifer’s hands curl into his jacket and hair. He was still kicking his feet like he didn’t have a single care in the world, and not like he’d just given Alastor a way to keep doing something he loved. Something that he’d thought he’d have to give up after getting associated with the hotel and becoming the Prince Consort of Hell.

It wasn’t often Lucifer showed his more devilish tendencies. It was quite rare, actually. But sometimes? Sometimes he showed his true colours, and Alastor felt that same, strange interest he’d felt for him since that first kill that he’d helped him with.

“It’s also demon proof,” Lucifer muttered against Alastor’s lips when he pulled back.

Alastor froze. “Do you have a particular one in mind?”

Lucifer’s grin turned impossibly sharper, teeth nicking Alastor’s bottom lip. “Possibly,” he said, brushing his lip against the tiny drop of blood. “But I mean. It’s up to you who you’d like to bring down here.”

“Please tell me you didn’t make it impossible for you to escape from here, too,” Alastor grumbled, feeling the implication of what Lucifer had said earlier about remembering what Alastor had planned, once. Lucifer didn’t say anything. “Lucifer,” Alastor hissed.

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m kidding. I needed some safety in case someone manages to get lose and try to trap us down here.” He paused, leaning back and glancing at the leather straps. “Well, mostly kidding. I laced the leather with angelic metal wire.”

“I feel like that’s going to backfire on us,” Alastor admitted, feeling his attention get pulled back to Lucifer’s lip where he’d smeared Alastor’s blood across it. Alastor licked his own lip, tasting the iron.

“It has some extra safety features built into it,” Lucifer told him. “If you know about it, then you’ll get out. If not, then… well,” he muttered with another shrug. “I’ll show you later,” he promised, making Alastor huff and pull him back into a kiss, mostly just to get rid of the blood. Lucifer wasn’t difficult to ask, of course, grinning into it. “You’re still soaked,” he said.

“So are you,” Alastor said as he ran his fingers up into Lucifer’s hair, minding the crown still on his head. He pulled gently at the wet strands, making them stand out in every direction.

“Oh, come on,” Lucifer scoffed, shooting his hand forward to ruffle Alastor’s bangs in retaliation. It made Alastor take a step back and lean away from him. Lucifer giggled and slipped off of the table. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, stepped over to the staircase and waited for Alastor to walk up in front of him.

“After you,” Alastor said.

“I’m turning the lights off,” Lucifer retorted.

“Certainly, I could pull off such a difficult task, too, don’t you think?”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “What are you planning?”

“What makes you think I’m planning something?”

Lucifer glanced at the light switch, before his eyes met Alastor’s. He squinted suspiciously at him as be backed away from him and into the staircase, moving slowly as he made his way backwards up the stairs, eyes not leaving Alastor’s for a second.

“I’m feeling the trust,” Alastor said sarcastically as he strolled over to the switch and turned off the lights, bathing them both in complete darkness. He could feel his shadows stretch out around him. Lucifer glowed faintly as he kept backing up the stairs. It made him grin, which made Lucifer narrow his eyes further, which again made Alastor chortle darkly.

“Fuck!” Lucifer yelped when the floor opened up under him and swallowed him up.

Alastor continued to snicker to himself as he made his way up the stairs and out into the living room. He closed the door behind him and looked around the room, taking in the calming light from the little lamp in the window, listening to the gentle trickle of water going down the gutters and the water droplets pattering against the glass whenever they were caught in the wind. He took a deep breath, feeling like he was back home. Not that Hell wasn’t his home, but there was just something so calming about being back where he’d lived. He’d always felt safe, there, in that house. Well, after his father died, but after that, it had become his safe-haven. A place he could relax away from the rest of the world. Him and his bayou.

He sighed and closed his eyes, letting the feeling of being back wash over him. He knew they wouldn’t stay there forever, of course. But, if Lucifer had truly meant to use it as a vacation home, he had a feeling it wouldn’t take long for them to be back. He still felt a slight apprehension at the thought of going into the city and seeing the changes—there had to be a lot of them after so many years, but he’d enjoy learning what his city had become either way, even if it wouldn’t be exactly the same. Hopefully, they’d be able to find some spots that had stayed untouched.

It even smelled the same, Alastor thought as he breathed in through his nose and opened his eyes again. He smiled to himself as he stepped over to the bathroom and to the dresser. He pulled open the drawer in the middle and found it filled with soft towels. He pulled out two of them and closed the drawer, before he let Lucifer back out of his void. His husband staggered a little as he found his footing.

“And you call me untrustworthy,” Lucifer scoffed. Alastor threw one of the towels in his face, almost knocking the crown off of his head. He heard the snake hiss at the sudden attack. “Seriously?” Lucifer exclaimed and pulled the towel off.

“Thought you’d like to dry yourself off,” Alastor said as he let his own crown vanish like he’d done earlier. He felt particularly pleased about the ease of which he could make it melt into his void.

Lucifer pursed his lips. “I could just dry myself up instantly,” he said.

“What’s the fun in that?” Alastor retorted and stepped into Lucifer’s personal space as he draped his own towel around his shoulders. Lucifer looked unconcerned about the close proximity. “I’d think being back on Earth would make you want to do things the more human way.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything the ‘human way’ whenever I’ve been here,” Lucifer admitted.

“That explains a lot, actually,” Alastor huffed, reaching over to start undoing Lucifer’s bowtie. Lucifer waited patiently until he managed to undo the knot and pulled it from around his neck. He placed it on the side of the sink, the soaked fabric hanging heavily over the edge of it. Alastor reached back up and tapped the crown. Lucifer let it pop out of existence in a flash of light. Alastor took the towel from his hands and threw it over his head.

“Hey,” Lucifer grumbled.

Alastor said nothing as he started to rub the towel over his head. He hummed a small tune. It made Lucifer fall silent and lean heavily into the touch.

“There are some perks to doing things like this, aren’t there?” Alastor said, continuing the massage. Lucifer mumbled something incoherent.

“I’m drying the clothes the demonic way, though,” he said a little louder, pointing at him sluggishly. “You’re really good at this,” he added, leaning a little harder against him. It made Alastor move backwards and let go of him, making Lucifer stumble forwards with a curse. He managed to keep himself from faceplanting into the floor, at least. Alastor chuckled and started undoing his own bowtie while Lucifer pulled the towel out of his face. “There was a chance I would return the favour, but now I’m not so sure,” he said as he continued where Alastor had left off.

“Who said I wanted you to?” Alastor retorted, pulling the bowtie from his neck and placing it beside Lucifer’s.

“Just a hunch,” Lucifer replied with a smirk. Because, yeah, Alastor probably would’ve enjoyed it. Lucifer had this awfully nice scratching technique that kept making him want to rub his head against him like a damned animal. It hadn’t happened, yet. But maybe…?

Alastor didn’t answer him, instead giving him a look as he unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off, careful to hold the towel in place as he did. He glanced at Lucifer with a raised eyebrow. Lucifer huffed and stepped over to him, before he wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. Alastor felt a comfortable warmth spread through him, and a moment later, he felt completely dry, sans his head.

“Thank you,” he muttered, thinking Lucifer would let him go. When he didn’t, he looked down, finding him gazing up at him with an affectionate shimmer in his eyes. “What?”

“Just trying to come to terms with being stuck with you for the rest of eternity,” Lucifer mumbled.

“Yes, you look particularly plagued by that thought,” Alastor retorted sarcastically, seeing Lucifer’s smile widen.

Lucifer grabbed Alastor’s towel and tugged it away from his shoulders, before he flung it up and onto Alastor’s head. It draped itself awkwardly over his ears and hung like a veil down over his shoulders. He blinked, unimpressed as Lucifer snickered.

“You look a bit like a nun,” he commented.

Alastor rolled his eyes and put his hands together in a mock-prayer, keeping the jacket between them. “You’ve already seen me in a nun costume,” he retorted. “This doesn’t even come close.”

“Not with that attitude,” Lucifer huffed, placing his own hands outside Alastor’s. “Use some imagination, will you?”

“You’re using enough imagination for the both of us,” Alastor said dryly. Lucifer smiled sheepishly, and Alastor shook his head at his antics, grabbed one of his hands and pulled him with him out of the bathroom and into the living room, and then right into his old bedroom where he went over to the wardrobe and opened it. He paused at the amount of clothes already in there. “A garment bag would be nice,” he muttered.

“Oh, right,” Lucifer said. A moment later he was holding two of them, handing one to Alastor. “I’m surprised you haven’t taken the towel off, yet.”

Alastor’s ear flickered backwards and towards him, making the towel flop around. “It’s comfortable,” Alastor admitted quietly as he started putting the jacket away. Lucifer followed his example, getting his own jacket off. “Are you planning any more surprises for the night?”

“Why? Are you planning on calling it a night, already?” Lucifer smirked.

Alastor shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I slept about two hours, total, last night. Probably less.” He was definitely starting to feel the day’s events starting to weigh on his eyelids, at least. He’d either fall asleep immediately, or lay awake for hours trying to process the entire day. “So, unless you have some other ideas…”

“Not really,” Lucifer admitted, another smile playing on his lips as he glanced up. He looked away. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat, sounding like he was trying to get rid of the amusement in his voice. “I was thinking of enjoying some music, but I’m not opposed to going straight to bed, either.”

Alastor thought it over as he slipped his shoes off and got the cufflinks out of his cuffs. He placed the cufflinks on the dresser. A yawn forced itself out of him, making his eyes water. He blinked a few times, before he turned to Lucifer. His husband was smiling knowingly at him.

“Bed it is,” Lucifer said before Alastor could say anything. “We’ll take the music and drinks tomorrow instead,” he promised. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Thank you,” Alastor muttered, pulling out one of the drawers and found some dark red pyjamas. He pulled them out and placed them on top of the dresser, before he started unbuttoning his shirt. Lucifer just hummed gently as he got a black t-shirt and some blue joggers out of the same drawer, and moved over to the bed.

They got changed, Alastor yawning more often than not, annoyingly enough. The dark room didn’t make it much better, and the towel was comfortable enough that he definitely could’ve fallen asleep with it on. He still had to dry his hair, and the slight itch he got from the rainwater made the pressure extra enjoyable.

“Hey,” Lucifer muttered when Alastor started to dry his hair. Alastor glanced at him, furrowing his brow when Lucifer coaxed him closer. He stepped over to him and lowered his head, letting his husband take over.

Alastor was used to Lucifer’s scratches, but he hadn’t expected the towel and wet hair to add something a little extra to it. He’d thought the urge to rub his head against him had been strong, before, but he’d clearly been mistaken as he ended up pushing forwards until Lucifer had to take a few steps back, only to get his legs caught on the edge of the bed. He let out a yelp as he fell onto the mattress. Alastor followed him down, continuing to try and get him to keep going with the scratching. When Lucifer didn’t, he grumbled, rubbing his head hard against his hands. Lucifer let out a startled laugh and continued to giggle as he finally kept going. Alastor was more or less laying on top of him, at that point.

“If I knew you enjoyed getting your ears rubbed this much, I would’ve done it more often,” Lucifer huffed, really digging his nails into the soft fur-like hairs at the base of Alastor’s ear.

“Shut up,” Alastor groaned, feeling a little embarrassed at his own reaction. He felt Lucifer cradle his head in his arms, holding him still as he got more systematic with it, rubbing small circles into his scalp. Alastor hid his face in Lucifer’s chest and wrapped his arms around his waist, sighing contentedly.

Lucifer continued to chortle, stopping the massage for a moment to lean down and press a small peck to the top of his head before he kept going. Alastor felt himself start to drift off, his breathing becoming more laboured as he struggled to stay awake. It didn’t help when Lucifer pulled him farther onto the bed until he could get the covers over them both. When he was satisfied, he turned his attention back to drying Alastor’s hair. Alastor heard him yawn, too, which made him nuzzle his face a little firmer into the soft t-shirt.

He was halfway into dreamland when he felt Lucifer remove the towel and heard him throw it on the floor. A moment later, his fingers combed through his hair, nails tracing wavy patterns over his scalp. It didn’t help with the sleepiness.

“Just go to sleep, dear,” Lucifer whispered to him, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Alastor’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Alastor really tried to tell him goodnight, but it came out as an incomprehensible mumble. A moment later, the darkness pulled him into its gentle clutches. He’d thought he would end up thinking a lot more about the day, but apparently not. He was too exhausted to think, and just letting himself drift off and sleep felt like the best option. So, he didn’t fight it when he felt his shadows pull him in with the gentle hum of Lucifer’s voice lulling him to sleep.

Chapter Text

Lucifer sucked in a breath as he woke up, before he let it out slowly. He felt something wrapped around his waist, and it took him a short moment to realise what it was. It made him smile and snuggle a little closer to where Alastor was holding onto him, head pressed into his side and snoring quietly. A gentle buzz from his static accompanied the sound.

Lucifer sighed happily, feeling himself drift back into sleep. Well, until the memories of the day before slammed back into his mind like a runaway truck on an icy road.

He’d gotten married last night, hadn’t he? He’d gotten married to Alastor.

He almost thought he’d dreamt it until he opened his eyes and looked around the unfamiliar, yet familiar room. He knew that place. He hadn’t been there since the 1930s, but he was back. He was back in New Orleans. On Earth. In Alastor’s house that he’d gotten remade as close to the original as he could get it (except the basement, but he didn’t think that had been too big of a change, anyway. From Alastor’s reaction, he hadn’t minded it, at least).

Lucifer felt himself grin at the thought of the previous day. He’d barely been able to sleep the night before the wedding, and ended up waking up earlier than he’d wanted to. The stress and nerves had made it impossible to go back to sleep, and in the end, he’d just gotten out of bed and hurried down to the throne room to start getting it ready for the day. It had taken some energy to turn the huge room into a bayou, but it was definitely worth it.

What had been more worrying had been the fireflies. He’d heard about forest spirits before, and while he hadn’t wanted to open a portal to Earth without Alastor there, he’d ended up doing it anyway. He never went through it while gathering the spirits (who recognised him, it seemed, from their curiosity and the way they landed on him like they used to), and they’d truly made the room stand out more than it already did. He knew Alastor would love it, but that didn’t stop the worry that his partner might’ve wanted to back out of the wedding altogether. It hadn’t been a completely unfounded concern.

Lucifer winced at the phantom stress that hit him when he thought back to when Niffty had come sprinting up to him and told him Alastor wanted to call of the wedding. He hadn’t been able to see the guests where they were bathed in shadow, but he’d heard their mutterings at the news. Rosie and Charlie had hurried over to him before the three of them went over to the doors. Rosie had wanted to go talk to Alastor about it, but Lucifer felt like he should probably be the one to hear what was going on—only to discover Rosalie had it under control.

Alastor’s mother was another thing he’d worried about. He still felt guilty for not filling Alastor in on bringing his mother into the mix. He didn’t know how he’d react, and he could only be thankful Rosalie had refused to let him go through with not letting them meet until Alastor was walking down the aisle. She’d barely had time to get there in time given the portals opening the same day, and from what she’d told him later during the reception, she’d almost missed the entire wedding because of the chaos at the travel station. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Alastor had a bit of an ‘episode’, she wouldn’t have made it there before Alastor was down the aisle.

But, while Lucifer had been stressing out from the moment he’d woken up to the moment Alastor was back on Earth, he’d also enjoyed himself immensely, especially seeing Alastor’s reaction to his surprises, as well as just watching him have fun. It had been an emotional day for the both of them, and he could only imagine how his husband (his fucking husband!!) had struggled with those pesky feelings he hated so much. Well, had hated, at least. Lucifer knew he still didn’t enjoy emotions, but over the years, he seemed to have started to mind them less and less. Sometimes he could get a bit overwhelmed, and Lucifer always made sure to give him some space if that happened.

Lucifer looked down at his husband. He never got the chance to pull the curtains in front of the window before he fell asleep, and while it had rained for most of the night, golden sunlight illuminated the room. It made everything look dreamlike, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that Alastor was holding onto his waist, Lucifer would probably think he was still sleeping.

He really wanted to stay right where he was, but he had a plan for the morning. He grabbed Alastor’s wrist and carefully unhooked his claws from where they’d gotten stuck in his t-shirt, before he sat up and scooted away from him. He placed the hand back down and took a moment to take in the sight of his partner where he was sleeping with a soft smile on his face. Lucifer’s heart swelled, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his cheeks. Alastor would kill him if he ever called him adorable to his face, but come on. It made him want to dive right back down and scoop him into a tight hug.

But, no. He had a mission, and he’d gone through a lot just to try and get everything he needed for it. Or, he’d gotten the assassins to go through a lot just to try and get everything he needed. He’d paid them well for it, at least. After their first job for him, getting the piano and the cookbook and the knife, they’d been a lot more willing to work for him. He knew it was because he overpaid them like crazy, but it got the job done and that’s all that mattered to him. It was worth it.

He didn’t bother trying to move out of the bed, instead teleporting himself right out into the living room. He looked around, grinning at how great of a job the builders had done to recreate the house. The little lamp in the window still glowed, and Lucifer snapped his fingers to turn it off. He stepped into the kitchen and cracked his knuckles, before he started on the task at hand. He got out a frying pan, as well as a bowl, a couple of measures and a whisp. He gathered up the ingredients he needed, placing them all on the counter.

He sang quietly to himself as he measured up all he needed, before he stepped over to the fridge and got out the most important ingredient of them all, and went back to the bowl. He mixed together the ingredients, taking great care putting the bowl into the fridge to swell. He got out a cutting board and a knife, grinning to himself as he got out an onion and started cutting it into tiny pieces.

The memory of Alastor trying to teach him how to cut onions the day they both died came back to him. It had been in that very kitchen. Well, the old one, but still. It was in the exact same spot, and the table had been the same. It had been such a nice day, even if he’d been trying his best not to stress out about Heaven’s eviction notice. Their last day together before getting separated and kept apart for more than ninety years.

Lucifer’s vision went a little blurry. He blamed the onions as he scraped them into the frying pan with some butter. He cleared his throat as he turned on the heat, opting for humming instead of singing until his heart stopped being a little bitch. He focused on frying the onions and the butter, careful not to burn them. When they looked glossy, he went over to the fridge and got the rest of the batter out, placing it on the counter. He put the onion-butter mix into the bowl, mixing it together. He grimaced at the batter as he got out a plate and placed it beside the stove. He just hoped Alastor wouldn’t hate it.

He pushed down the worry, deciding that he’d love it like he’d loved everything else he’d done. It didn’t really work, feeling it in his gut as he continued to hum.

It didn’t take that long to finish Alastor’s breakfast, and while he knew he could’ve probably made it look a lot prettier and garnish it with a bunch of different things, he had no idea how. Instead, he used some syrup and drizzled it over the plate.

He made some coffee and got himself an apple from the fridge, placing it beside the plate and the two coffee cups on a tray, as well as some cutlery. He took a deep, calming breath as he picked the tray up and brought it out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom. He held it in one hand as he reached for the doorhandle and pushed the door open. He froze and stared.

“Mornin’,” Alastor greeted him.

Lucifer slammed the door shut, almost dropping the tray. He felt his face flush as he stared at the breakfast he’d made for him. It didn’t look adequate in its presentation compared to—Lucifer glanced at the door behind him, clenching his jaw as he tried to get his head to stop showing him his husband with his shirt unbuttoned, bathed in golden light and grinning at him like he hung the moon. The chest fluff, man. Just… Damn.

How could he give someone looking that close to godly something looking this… sad?

“Fuck,” Lucifer hissed, before he made up his mind and teleported into the room and onto the floor beside the bed, trying to build up the fucking courage to face such beauty, and peeked his head over the edge, just far enough to be able to see Alastor’s unimpressed and quite irritated expression. He placed the tray down and rested his hands on the mattress, curling his fingers into the covers.

Alastor’s eyes finally fell to him, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Oh,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” Lucifer squeaked, feeling his face burn. “I made you breakfast,” he added, because he had nothing else to say at that moment. He could feel his pupils dilate the longer he looked at Alastor. He looked like he was made of literal gold in the sunlight. It made Lucifer realise he hadn’t actually seen true sunlight since he’d been to Earth last. There definitely had to be something magical about it (to be honest, Lucifer loved looking at his partner no matter what, but he hadn’t seen him in sunlight before. Not with his new look, at least).

“Did you?” Alastor asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Lucifer blinked away the initial shock of seeing his husband with his chest bare, his hair standing every direction and the sun making him look absolutely stunning. His heart was hammering in his chest as he grinned up at him, still feeling the warmth covering his cheeks.

“I did!” he exclaimed as he reached down and got the tray. He got up from his little hiding spot and shuffled onto the bed. He handed the tray over to Alastor.

“Chocolate pancakes?” Alastor asked while Lucifer snatched the apple from the tray.

“Hah, no,” Lucifer scoffed, rolling the apple from one hand to the other. “Definitely not.” Alastor narrowed his eyes, making Lucifer grin a little wider. “They’re blood pancakes.”

Alastor balked at him. “They’re what, now?”

“Blood pancakes,” Lucifer repeated. “I was looking up recipes I could make for you and found this.” He gestured to the pancakes stacked neatly on the plate with a drizzle of syrup over them, as well as a couple of pieces of raw venison on the side. He still regretted not making it look nicer, but it was too late, now. “It’s apparently a Sami-Norwegian traditional dish.” Alastor continued to stare at him, before he glanced down at the dark brown pancakes. “They used to make them with reindeer blood, but nowadays it’s easier to use swine, apparently.”

“Let me guess,” Alastor muttered. “You used deer blood?”

“No.”

Alastor’s eyes snapped back up to him. “What… what did you use?” Lucifer bit his lip and looked down at the apple in his hand. “Lucifer.”

“Hmm?”

“What blood did you use?”

Lucifer swallowed thickly, gaze shifting from the apple and up to Alastor’s intense stare, before they fell to the pancakes. “Human,” he admitted quietly.

“You—” Alastor cut himself off. “What?” he blurted out, eyes wide. “How the hell did you get a hold of human blood?!”

“Well, you see,” Lucifer started, keeping his eyes trained on the apple. “Apparently, they have these things called blood banks?”

“You stole blood from a hospital?” Alastor hissed.

“It’s one of the types they aren’t using that often,” Lucifer said with a shrug. “And I wasn’t the one who broke into the hospital to get it.”

Alastor ran a hand through his hair and glanced at him. “The assassins?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer confirmed.

Alastor let out a long sigh. “I can’t even be mad,” he muttered as he picked up the cutlery. “You’re a moron, you know that, right?”

“You keep reminding me, so yeah,” Lucifer replied with a nod.

“How do you even come up with this shit?” Alastor grumbled as he started to cut into the stack. Lucifer shrugged again. “What blood type is it?”

“You once told me to be more positive…” Lucifer said, thinking back to the moment right after they’d figured out their differences and ran off to try and stop a war.

“So, you got B-positive?” Alastor asked dryly.

“Yeah.”

Alastor stared at him. “Why are you like this?”

“A better question is why you like me when I’m like this,” Lucifer retorted, grinning cheekily and taking a bite of his apple, enjoying the crunch. He hadn’t had a proper Earth apple in years, and it definitely tasted much better than whatever they had in Hell.

“Right,” Alastor grumbled, dipping the piece of pancake in the syrup. He stared at it, clearly hesitating.

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want it,” Lucifer muttered.

“I’m just worried about your cooking skills,” Alastor said leaning over and sniffing the food. He gave Lucifer one more glance before he took a bite. Lucifer waited patiently for his reaction. Alastor hummed thoughtfully. “You can barely even taste the blood.”

“Oh,” Lucifer said. “Do you want me to get the rest of it? There was a bit more than I needed, so I just…” He was about to move out of the bed to go and get it when Alastor placed a hand on his knee, stopping him.

“I never said it wasn’t good,” Alastor huffed, cutting off another piece. His smile turned sly as he turned to Lucifer. “Do you want to try it?”

“I’ve got an apple,” Lucifer said quickly.  Alastor raised an eyebrow and held the piece up for him. Lucifer stared at it, feeling the slight dread in his gut. He’d never actually tasted human blood before, and while it wasn’t actually cannibalism for him, it still felt wrong as fuck. Alastor still held it up for him, and Lucifer sighed. “Fine,” he muttered, letting his husband feed him.

It really wasn’t that bad, Lucifer found. He’d expect it to taste a lot more like blood, but the onion and butter definitely gave it a richer flavour. If he didn’t think about where it came from, it was quite nice, actually.

“Well?”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “I’m getting better at this cooking-thing,” he joked. He picked up his coffee mug from the tray and took a sip of the steaming beverage. “I can still get you more of that blood, though.” He bit down on the apple, keeping it in his mouth as he slipped out of the bed, placing the mug on the nightstand. He picked up the towel from the floor and threw it over his shoulder on his way out of the room, giving Alastor a playful look before he went out into the living room. He ripped off a piece of the apple and hummed as he deposited the towel in the bathroom. He continued to hum happily as he went into the kitchen, finishing his apple and throwing away the apple core in the trash.

He found a white, porcelain creamer and placed it on the counter, before he got the blood bag from the fridge. He filled the creamer, spilling a little blood on the counter when he tried to stop the flow. He grimaced, wiping it off with his finger. It didn’t do much, and it only made him realise it wasn’t the only drop of blood on the counter from his earlier cooking. It looked like a proper crime scene.

“I should probably fix this,” he muttered to himself, waving a hand at the blood, seeing it vanish. He still had a lot to clean up, but it looked a lot better than it had. He smiled to himself as he picked up the creamer.

He turned around and was about to go back into the bedroom when he heard a knock on the window behind him.

He froze. They weren’t expecting anyone, and he highly doubted Alastor had taken a trip outside.

Lucifer gulped. He didn’t dare turn around, because he was currently not looking very human, and if there were anyone outside, they had to be human. He clenched his jaw and felt his face change, as well the rest of him. He got himself a proper nose, ears and let his eyes turn blue, before he let his skin turn peachy.

He turned around slowly, seeing a person stand with his hands against the glass, staring at him. Lucifer felt his heart drop at the sight of the police officer. The man smiled kindly at him, nodding in the direction of the door. Lucifer couldn’t move, staring at the human outside.

The officer moved away from the window and looked like he was talking to someone else on the porch.

Lucifer blinked hard as he finally got himself to take a step forward. He swallowed hard as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Another officer was looking around into the bayou with his hands on his hips, waiting.

“Shit,” Lucifer hissed. The officer turned to look at the window, spotting him. He waved at Lucifer, and Lucifer forced himself to grin and wave back as he hurried over to the door to the entrée. He almost stumbled over the doorstep. His hand was on the door when he realised his feet were bare, and definitely not human. He winced, changing them to fit the rest of his disguise. He made sure his teeth were flat before he finally opened the door. “Good morning, officers,” he greeted the two of them, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Good morning,” the one who’d been peeking at him through the window said kindly. “I’m Detective Hensley with the New Orleans Police Department. This is my colleague, Officer Pierce.”

“Hi,” Officer Pierce said. Lucifer nodded at him.

“I’m sorry for the early visit, Mr…?” Detective Hensley paused, raising an eyebrow.

“Morn,” Lucifer said, trying to remember what name the house was registered on. He had no idea what he’d called himself in the paperwork, and even if it wasn’t that important. He could always ‘persuade’ them into thinking it was the right name, anyway.

“Well, then, Mr. Morn. We heard someone was moving in here and wanted to inform you about the current situation in the bayou,” Detective Hensley informed him.  

Lucifer frowned. “Current situation?” 

“There’s been a few murders around here for the last couple of years, and we just wanted to make sure you were safe,” Detective Hensley replied. “Just keep your doors locked at night, as well as your windows. Do you have a security monitor installed?”

“Oh,” Lucifer muttered, looking around. “I’m not sure. I’ll get right on that. We’re not staying here for long, you see.” He grinned awkwardly. “My husband and I got here just last night. It’s our honeymoon.”

“Oh, I see,” Detective Hensley said with a kind smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Lucifer replied.

“I’m surprised you decided to spend your honeymoon out here,” Officer Pierce said, glancing around. “It’s not the most romantic spot.”

“He grew up here, so I thought he’d like to come back,” Lucifer told them.

“No one’s lived here for decades,” Officer Pierce stated, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, someone has,” Lucifer said.

“Yes, someone has,” Officer Pierce agreed. Lucifer could see Detective Hensley give his colleague a curious look and decided he should probably get these people out of there.

“Was that all?” he asked, smiling at them.

The two cops stared at him, blinking in confusion, like they expected him to have more questions or at least be a little bit more worried about the killer apparently still on the loose.

“Uhm, I guess?” Detective Hensley muttered. “Sorry again for disturbing you this early in the morning, sir. We thought it would be best if we got here as early as possible, just in case you decide to take a walk in the bayou. Can’t be too careful, you know?”

“I appreciate it,” Lucifer said, getting a little worried about Alastor ending up coming to check on him. He didn’t know how the cops would react to a tall deer-man walking around, and while he could quite easily make them forget about it, he’d rather they just didn’t see him at all.

“Whatchu got there, Mr. Morn?” Officer Pierce inquired.

Lucifer looked down, seeing the creamer filled with human blood. The drop he’d spilled and wiped up with his finger had smeared across the white porcelain and looked quite bad if he said so himself. At least when he was talking to a couple of cops.

He grimaced. “I, uhm… I cut my finger making breakfast for my husband,” he lied, hoping they wouldn’t want to help him out with it. “I forgot to put a Band-Aid on,” he explained lamely, hoping they wouldn’t actually question it.

“And what are you making for your husband this morning?” Officer Pierce continued to question.

Lucifer felt his heart speed up. “Pancakes?”

“Any special pancakes he enjoys?” the officer asked.

“The regular ones?” Lucifer replied. “I was just getting him more syrup when you came knocking.”

“Lucifer?” Alastor asked from the bedroom.

“I’ll be right there with you, love,” Lucifer yelled back, feeling like he wanted to throw up. He mentally begged Alastor to stay where he was. “Just someone at the door.” He turned back to the cops. “Sorry, I don’t want to leave him waiting for too long. This is just regular old syrup. You can leave.”

“Oh, okay,” Officer Pierce said. “Have a nice day, sir.” The officer turned on his heels and stepped down from the porch.

Detective Hensley stared after him. “Okay?” he muttered, turning back to Lucifer. “Again, sorry for disturbing you. If you see anything suspicious out here, please give us a call,” he said, handing Lucifer a small card. Lucifer took it from him, looking at the number.

“I will,” he promised, having no intention of actually calling the guy.

“Well, I’ll get going,” the detective said awkwardly, before taking a step away from the door. “I hope you enjoy your stay, here.”

“We will.” Lucifer nodded.

The detective nodded back, giving him a mock-salute before hurrying after the officer. Lucifer saw the police cruiser in the driveway and waited until he saw them get in the car and drive off before he closed the door slowly. His hands were shaking as he made his way back into the living room and into the bedroom. Alastor stared at him as he entered. He placed the tray down on the end of the bed, before he got up and walked over to him.

“What happened?” Alastor asked, placing his hands on Lucifer’s shoulders. The worried look in his eyes made Lucifer sigh.

“I was holding a creamer full of stolen, human blood while talking to the police,” Lucifer said, feeling the relief wash over him now that he knew the cops had left.

“The what?”

“Apparently there’s been a few murders around here these last couple of years,” Lucifer said. The adrenaline still coursed through his veins. “They were here to warn us about it and told us to call them if we saw something suspicious.” He felt a grin spread across his face as he held up the business card. Alastor glanced at it, and Lucifer let it burst into flames. “Don’t think we need this, do we?”

Alastor huffed out a laugh, still looking a little worried about him (or possibly about the police showing up). Lucifer decided he didn’t care to see it at that moment, so he smiled reassuringly and handed him the creamer filled with blood. Alastor took it from him and grabbed his hand. Lucifer giggled as he presented his index finger that was still covered in blood, letting his husband lick it clean, before Alastor pulled him back over to the bed.

“You had me worried, there, for a second,” Alastor muttered as he sat back down and picked the tray back up. He poured some of the blood over the pancakes while Lucifer grabbed his coffee from the nightstand. He sipped to it, wrinkling his nose at the lukewarm liquid. He glared at the mug until it steamed.

“I’m fine,” Lucifer huffed. “I just didn’t expect coming face to face with the police less than twelve hours after coming back to Earth,” he muttered. “It’s actually really stupid, since I could’ve just made them go away, too.” He sat cross-legged on top of the sheets, pushing his hair behind his ear.

“Well, at least we know what I heard last night,” Alastor muttered as he continued on his pancakes. He looked pleased with the additional blood.

Lucifer paused. “You think it was the killer?”

“Or their victim,” Alastor said. “Sounded like someone dying.”

“You would know,” Lucifer retorted, sipping to the now-hot coffee. He wondered why everything on Earth tasted so much better than anything he could get a hold of in Hell. Alastor glanced at him, making him shrug. “You would. And I think you’re actually really proud of that fact.”

“True,” Alastor hummed. “It’s been a while since I saw you looking human,” he said after a short moment of silence.

Lucifer smirked. “Like what you see?”

“I certainly don’t mind it,” he replied, which was probably the closest thing Lucifer could get to a proper compliment. You know, except being called beautiful or pretty or whatever else Alastor usually never called him unless he forgot himself. “I guess human disguises are a must while we’re here.”

“Don’t think a lot of people would be too happy seeing two demons walking around town, at least,” Lucifer agreed.

Alastor nodded and looked up at him. He placed his cutlery down and held his hand out for Lucifer to take. Lucifer, who’d been cradling his mug and enjoying the heat, let go of the mug with one hand and grabbed Alastor’s hand. He sipped to his coffee and intertwined their fingers.

“What are you doing?” Alastor asked.

“I’m holding your hand,” Lucifer replied.

“You’re not going to help me out?”

Lucifer frowned, glancing down at the hand holding onto his. He looked back up at Alastor. “What do you mean?”

“A human disguise?” Alastor prompted, wiggling his fingers to make Lucifer let go of him. He didn’t.

Lucifer squinted at him. “You already have one,” he informed him, which was news to Alastor, apparently, given the way his eyes widened. “You’ve had it since I made you look human the first time. Back when I first recognised you?”

Alastor sucked in a sharp breath, before he let it out slowly. “Are you telling me I’ve been able to change my appearance this entire time?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Lucifer said. “But if you want me to do it for you—”

“Just tell me how,” Alastor grumbled, pushing the tray out of the way so he could mirror Lucifer’s cross-legged sit. He offered Lucifer his other hand, which he took happily after putting his mug down.

“We don’t have to hold hands, you know?” Lucifer said.

“Shut up,” Alastor growled.

Lucifer snorted, squeezing his hands before he started explaining how to do it. He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face as he saw Alastor close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, again, they were brown and human-like. The sight of them made him shuffle a little closer. He told Alastor to keep going, and not too long after, the human he’d met a hundred years earlier sat in front of him. Lucifer brought his hands up to his lips, kissing them chastely.

“Hello, there,” he said, making Alastor roll his eyes. He didn’t move away, though.

“Hi,” he muttered, before he let go of Lucifer’s hands and spread his fingers, looking at the extra finger on each hand. “Well, isn’t this strange,” he said, curling his fingers. The snake around his ring finger seemed curious, too, as it started moving over to the new pinkie. “I forgot what it’s like.”

“The feet are the strangest, in my opinion,” Lucifer muttered, stretching one of his legs out and wiggled his toes. “How humans don’t fall straight on their faces is a mystery.”

“Not really,” Alastor said dryly. “If you ask someone, I think they’d be more impressed if they knew you were usually walking around on what’re essentially stilts.”

Lucifer hummed. “I’ve got better balance than most.”

“You’re the literal devil,” Alastor drawled.

“Well, either way.” Lucifer grinned, leaning back on his hands. “It’s nice to see you, again, Al.”

Alastor glanced at him before he looked away with a slight blush on his cheeks. He cleared his throat before he picked up the tray and finally got to finish his breakfast.

Lucifer watched him, wondering what they were going to do that day. They could stay at the house and do nothing, but he had a feeling Alastor wouldn’t mind taking a trip to check out his old home town. Lucifer knew it had grown a lot since last time they were there, but at least it gave them something to explore.

“Is there anything you want to do today?” he asked. “The weather looks pretty good.”

“It does,” Alastor agreed as he looked out of the window. “I guess we could use the day to explore?”

“Reading my mind,” Lucifer muttered with a grin, scooting over to him. Alastor watched him curiously as Lucifer reached up and adjusted his glasses, before combing a hand through his hair. He couldn’t help the grin as his husband closed his eyes at the touch. “I heard it’s pretty well-preserved,” he said, referring to the city. It made Alastor sigh and meet his eyes.

“I just hope the restaurant is still there,” he admitted, and Lucifer couldn’t help but agree. “It’s one of the things I’ve missed, I believe.”

“Maybe we have to recreate it in Hell?” Lucifer asked. Alastor huffed, but Lucifer wasn’t joking. He stared at him, waiting for Alastor to realise it. His husband blinked at him.

“You’re serious?”

“It would be pretty easy to do.”

Alastor grabbed the hand resting on his cheek and kissed Lucifer’s palm. “I think I’d like that,” he said. “At least, if the one we used to go to isn’t there anymore.”

“Could be fun to have it in Hell, anyway.” Lucifer shrugged, smiling as he felt Alastor’s thumb run over his skin. “But I guess it’s more special to let it stay on Earth,” he mumbled. He tilted his head and pursed his lips in thought. The chance that the restaurant had gone bankrupt or been whisked away in the hundred years they’d been gone was pretty high. But there was still a chance it was right where it had once been. “If it’s still there, we could always curse it.”

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“So people won’t try and get rid of it someday,” Lucifer said. “It would be stuck in time, in a way. I might not be able to save it from a catastrophe, but at least I can discourage humans who’d like to get rid of it. If you’d like me to, of course.”

Alastor nodded. “If it’s still there, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of letting it stay there for as long as you’re able to.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Lucifer said quietly, squeezing Alastor’s hand gently. “Do you want to help me clean the kitchen?”

“What?”

Lucifer glanced at the tray with the bloody plate and the empty mug beside it. “You know me,” he grumbled. “I’m not great at cooking things without making a mess, and I do think it would be best to clean before we go so things don’t get… crusty.” He nodded at the already coagulating blood.

Alastor hummed and picked up the creamer. “You’re actually going to make me clean the kitchen?” He smiled evilly as he took a sip right from the small jug. That manipulative bastard.

“You can watch, too, if that’s what you want?” Lucifer suggested, watching as Alastor licked his red lips. “Or stay here and drink blood, you fucking vampire,” he scoffed at him. He tried to let go of Alastor’s hand, but Alastor held him back. He adjusted his hold on Lucifer and placed the creamer back on the tray, before he motioned for him to hand him his mug. Lucifer stared at him for long enough that Alastor rolled his eyes and used his shadows to make the mug go from where it had been sitting next to him, and over to the tray.

“Come along,” Alastor said as he picked up the tray with his free hand and pulled Lucifer with him out of bed.

Lucifer went willingly. He couldn’t help but stare at him where he was balancing the tray with one hand, and giving him a couple of glances over his shoulder, smiling knowingly. Lucifer knew Alastor felt him watching him as they made their way out from the bedroom and into the kitchen. Not that Alastor pointed it out, though.

“I thought you said you’d made a mess?” Alastor said once they entered the kitchen.

“What?” Lucifer said eloquently, blinking sluggishly before looking at the counter where he’d left everything out. “Oh, right,” he muttered, remembering that he’d gotten rid of the blood before getting interrupted by the police. “I got rid of the worst of it.”

“Well, then,” Alastor said, placing the tray down on the counter with the rest of the things that needed to be cleaned. He picked up the creamer, again. “I guess I’ll have to dispose of the rest of it.”

“I guess you do,” Lucifer replied dryly as Alastor let go of his hand and went over to lean against the table, sipping to the blood. “You really enjoy that shit, don’t you?”

Alastor grinned, red staining his teeth. “I do! You have to give me the recipe for the pancakes, too. They were delightful.”

Lucifer stared at him, perplexed. “Huh. I don’t think you’ve ever just complimented my cooking skills before without giving me some backhanded comment about something I still suck at,” he muttered.

“Like cleaning?” Alastor asked.

“And there it is,” Lucifer grumbled, filling the sink with hot water. “I’ll have you know I’m actually great at cleaning.”

“Without using your powers?” Alastor tilted his head, grinning smugly when Lucifer pursed his lips. “I wonder how you’d do without them, sometimes.” He took another sip.

“I’m not completely useless,” Lucifer argued as he picked up the bowl he’d been using for the batter and placed it the soapy water. “I’d be fine without them.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I’m sure you would.”

Alastor hummed as he pushed off from the table and drank the last of the blood in the creamer. He stepped over to Lucifer and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before placing the empty jug into the water.

“It would only be fair,” he stated as he got a towel out from one of the drawers and started drying off the things Lucifer handed to him. “You got to see me as a weak and powerless human.”

Lucifer snorted as he handed him the clean spatula. “I don’t think you’ve ever been weak, nor powerless for as long as I’ve known you,” he retorted. “I never thought of you like that, at least.” Alastor didn’t say anything. It made Lucifer pause and look at him. “Did you think I did?” Alastor kept his eyes on the spatula he was drying off. “Damn, seriously?” Lucifer said, putting down the frying pan. “You killed people.”

“Did that make me strong, or did it make me weak?” Alastor asked, still refusing to look at him.

“Okay.” Lucifer sighed as he turned to him. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just a question,” Alastor said. “I wouldn’t say killing people to compensate for my own shitty childhood should be considered as strength nor resilience.”

“Well, as long as I helped you out, you only went after assholes with enough sins under their belts to deserve it in some way,” Lucifer said, leaning against the sink. “I don’t know, Al. I don’t think you’d ever hurt someone innocent.”

Alastor gave him a look Lucifer couldn’t quite discern. “What if I did?”

Lucifer stared at him. “I still wouldn’t care, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Alastor hummed, and Lucifer stepped over to him and took the towel from his hands, tossing it on the counter. He grabbed his hands and gazed up at him as he kissed his knuckles. Alastor’s eyes looked distant, but they seemed to sharpen their focus on Lucifer when he grinned. “Look,” he said quietly. “Whatever happened to you during your childhood was never your fault. It also doesn’t make you weak. You found a way to deal with your emotions. Was it ideal? Not really. But if I consider the alternatives and what you had available at the time?” He paused, squeezing Alastor’s hands. “You kept stabbing me whenever you felt things got too emotional. Last night you told me you didn’t feel like it, anymore. I know I could think it’s because you just don’t want to stab me because you don’t want to hurt me, but maybe it’s also got something to do with you getting better at processing whatever you’re feeling?” Lucifer suggested with a tilt of his head. “You don’t get overwhelmed by it, at least. Not as often as before.”

Alastor continued to stare at him, and Lucifer let go of his hands to cradle his face. Alastor brought his own hands up to cover Lucifer’s, before turning his head slightly to kiss his palm, again.

“See? No urge to stab me, right?” Lucifer grinned up at him. “You’ve kissed me twice since entering the kitchen, and I don’t have a knife sticking out of my shoulder.”

“You should see yourself in the mirror,” Alastor replied, voice rough and crackling. Lucifer frowned, trying to feel if he’d gotten stabbed without noticing it. He couldn’t, and the confusion had to be visible on his face, because Alastor leaned down and pressed a kiss to the opposite cheek from before. “Your cheeks look particularly rosy today, love,” he whispered against his skin.

“Oh, you fucking asshole,” Lucifer groaned. Alastor snickered as he let go of him, picking up the towel again. “And here I thought you were being all cute and shit,” he scoffed, moving back to the sink. “Well, I still meant what I said,” he grumbled as he continued to clean.

“I did, too,” Alastor said. “And while I’ve gotten better at dealing with my emotions, it doesn’t change the fact that I still enjoy hurting people,” he admitted, taking the frying pan Lucifer was handing him. “If it’s rooted in my childhood, then so be it. I enjoy killing and torturing people, but not those who are important to me or those who don’t deserve it, as you mentioned.”

“At least you’ve accepted that you have some important people in your life,” Lucifer said, grinning cheekily at him. Alastor rolled his eyes, but looked a little less troubled by the conversation. “And I do mean it. I’ve never found you weak.”

Alastor smiled at him, but stayed silent as he put away the pan. Lucifer took the hint, deciding to get the last of the things cleaned instead of on the fact that Alastor had actually opened up a little more than he usually did.

They finished doing the dishes and went back into the bedroom to get changed for the day. Lucifer had little to no knowledge about what clothes Charlie and Rosie had gone for, but it became apparent they’d ended up with something a lot more modern than what Alastor and he usually wore. Still, Lucifer couldn’t complain, especially seeing his husband in a red shirt with rolled up sleeves and the top button undone.

“Looking good,” he complimented, seeing Alastor glance up from where he was adjusting the sleeve.

“Well, it could do with a waistcoat,” he muttered, eyes narrowing at the sight of Lucifer. “Are you sure that t-shirt isn’t meant for me?”

“Could be?” Lucifer said looking at himself in the mirror. The t-shirt in question was either just too big for him, or meant to be oversized. He had no idea if it looked good with the pleated pants or not, but he found it fancy. Either way it was comfortable in comparison to his usual, royal outfit. “If it’s yours, I’m stealing it.”

“It’s too big.”

“It’s stylish,” Lucifer retorted, seeing the red mark on his cheek. “I probably shouldn’t walk around with blood on my face, though.”

Alastor let out a considering hum as he stepped over to him. “It makes the outfit,” he claimed.

“I’m not so sure about that, to be honest,” Lucifer huffed, before he glanced at Alastor standing behind him in the mirror. The shade was quite close to that of his shirt. “On second thought,” he murmured, seeing his husband grin a little wider. “I just don’t know if I want to have another encounter with the police today,” he admitted, turning to look at him over his shoulder. “So, if you’d like to clean up your mess…”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a mess,” Alastor murmured. Still, he placed a hand under Lucifer’s chin and leaned down to run his tongue over the dried-up blood. “Did you get more of it, by the way?”

“Should be another bag in the fridge,” Lucifer said as Alastor leaned back and used his thumb to rub at where the mark had been, getting rid of the leftovers. He let out a pleased sound, and Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised you don’t want to go get your own.”

“I don’t know if we’ll find someone to kill, today, so it would be nice to have something for tomorrow,” he said. “If you’d like to make me more of those pancakes, of course.”

Lucifer grinned, feeling a spark of pride in his chest. “Maybe you’d like to help me out and make them even better?” he suggested, making Alastor mirror his grin.

“I can certainly try,” he said, letting go of him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yup!” Lucifer twisted around and grabbed Alastor’s hand before he could move away, and dragged him out of the bedroom and back into the living room. “I just remembered another thing,” he told him over his shoulder as he went over to the door to the entrée. He could hear Alastor sigh. “Oh, come on, you’ve enjoyed the surprises so far.”

“I have, but you’re weirdly cheery about this one,” Alastor said as they put their shoes on. Lucifer giggled and opened the door, holding it open for his husband, who let the key to the house appear in his hand. He locked the door and let the key vanish back into his void, before he once again let Lucifer take his hand. He glanced around, taking in the world around them. “What did you get me, this time?”

“You’ll just have to see for yourself,” Lucifer huffed, pulling him with him down from the porch and around to the other side of the house where a narrow path went down to the river. A few bushes hung over the trail, and since Lucifer refused to let go of Alastor’s hand, he could feel the wet leaves brush against his pants. A small dock made for one boat was at the river bed, where said-one-boat bobbed in the water. He could feel Alastor try to slow down, but Lucifer continued to drag him with him. “I mean, we could take the bus or something, but I thought it would be nice to go by boat,” Lucifer said once they were finally down by the dock.

“You’re serious?” Alastor asked, stepping closer to the skiff. Lucifer had once again tried to make it look like the one Alastor had back when he was alive. “Unbelievable,” he muttered as he crouched down and inspected it.

“Just added a newer motor,” Lucifer said as he stepped into the boat. “Other than that, it should be identical.”

Alastor joined him and stepped over to the outboard motor. “Is this electric?”

“It’s quiet, better for the environment, and it’s powered by demonic energy.” Lucifer grinned as he sat down on the seat at the bow. “Perfect for a couple of sketchy guys who’d like to move around the swamps without a sound.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t argue. He sat down on the stern seat and turned to the motor. Lucifer watched him figure out the mechanics of it for a moment, before he closed his eyes and let the sun warm his skin. He turned his head towards it, spawned a pair of sunglasses and put them on. He breathed in and let it out slowly, feeling a sense of calm settle over him.

It felt incredible being back on Earth, back in a boat that looked a lot like the one they’d used a few times back in the 30s, as well as having his husband there with him. He couldn’t describe the sense of serenity and joy bubbling up in him. It made him want to laugh.

The sound of the motor turning on made him open his eyes and get up from his seat. Alastor was already moving to untie the line at the stern, and so Lucifer did the same by the bow, before he put the lines securely in the bottom of the boat. The two of them pushed off from the dock, and Lucifer sat back down on his seat. He continued to watch Alastor until the other looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Having fun?” Lucifer asked back.

“I’m not complaining,” Alastor replied, the round glasses changing to shades instead. “It’s been a while, though.”

“It’s probably like riding a bike,” Lucifer huffed, turned in his seat and laid down with his hands under his head. “I think this was the last surprise, by the way.” He propped his feet up on the gunwale. “I thought it was the pancakes, but nope.”

“Your memory worries me,” Alastor scoffed, turning the handle to make the boat speed up. “It’s incredibly inconsistent.”

“It’s like I just suddenly come up with things and create them and tell you it’s a surprise,” Lucifer retorted, turning his head to grin slyly at him.

“So, you didn’t plan the boat?” Alastor inquired.

“I didn’t plan the boat, no,” Lucifer replied, turning back to look up at the blue sky and the lazy clouds drifting by above. A few birds flew overhead, and he almost wanted to join them. But he’d much rather stay right there in the boat with Alastor and listen to the water slosh and splash against the hull. “But now that I’m here, it’s easier to just create something without having to plan it out too much. Especially something like this.” He used one of his legs to pat the gunwale.

“What else didn’t you plan?” Alastor asked.

“Just this,” Lucifer admitted. “The rest was mostly planned out. Even the flashmob.” He glanced at Alastor. “I wanted to make it as special as possible.”

“I think you managed that quite well,” Alastor said. “I appreciate it.”

Lucifer couldn’t stop the happy giggle that escaped him. “Well, then, Mr. Morningstar. Does that mean my surprises have been satisfactory?”

“Well, what do you think?” Alastor replied with a giggle of his own.

“I think I’d like to hear you say it,” Lucifer retorted, looking over at him. Alastor was sitting with his head tilted and grinning. The sunglasses made it just about impossible to see his eyes, but he could feel him stare at him.

“I thought I told you, already?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

Alastor barked out a laugh. “With a memory like yours, I suppose I should’ve expected it.”

“What if you simply never told me and I never had an opportunity to remember it?” Lucifer said.

“Or, what if you remember it but just want me to tell you, again?” Alastor’s grin sharpened. Lucifer continued to look at him expectantly. “You did not forget your heartfelt speech about me not owing you anything, last night,” Alastor stated. Lucifer hadn’t, of course, but he continued to stare.

“You might have to remind me,” he drawled playfully.

“Well, then, oh devil of mine,” Alastor said. “Allow me to remind you that you told me that every moment with me was worth remembering. I must say I’m quite disappointed that you forgot.”

Lucifer grimaced and cleared his throat. “I think I suddenly remember something about you loving them and me having outdone myself,” he muttered.

“That’s better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucifer huffed. “Let a guy fish for compliments once in a while.”

“And chance the possibility of you letting it go to your head? I think not.” Alastor leaned back as he moved them around a more overgrown part of the river. “You’re proud enough as it is.”

“I don’t think I’m able to have too much pride,” Lucifer mused.

“Well, in that case, I think your surprises have been incredible,” Alastor said. It definitely hit Lucifer right in his ego, which he tried to hide. He got one of his hands out from under his head and reached out to Alastor, who chortled as he stretched forwards and took it. “Even the unplanned ones.”

Lucifer grinned at him and squeezed his hand, before he let go, bringing his hand back under his head as he sighed contentedly. “If there’s anything you’d like that I don’t come up with myself, feel free to ask,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Maybe I’ll be able to create it myself, too,” Alastor replied. “If you’d like to teach me some of your creation skills.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Splendid. Maybe I can create some new ways to torture the damned?”

“Of course you’d be using it for evil,” Lucifer said gruffly, glancing over at his husband. The two of them snickered as they continued their trip through the bayou.

Lucifer listened to the sound of the birds singing and the alligators grumbling, combining with the soft music from Alastor. He let his fingers dip into the water, feeling the cool liquid move around his hand and create waves. Blades of grass and some algae stuck to his skin, but he let the water rinse it off again.

They ended up in a wider part of the river, and soon the sound of a couple of engines could be heard. The two of them glanced towards where the sound was coming from, and saw two airboats come towards them at full speed. They slowed down a little when they spotted the skiff, and Lucifer hummed as he saw them filled with people. He remembered reading something about New Orleans ending up as quite the tourist attraction, but he hadn’t thought he’d end up seeing it all the way out in the swamps.

He waved at the people in the airboats, and most of them waved back as they passed them. Lucifer knew they most likely wouldn’t get into the part of the bayou where the house was, since it was pretty far into a much more cluttered and overgrown area, but he still felt a little uneasy knowing that the tourism had ended up this far out.

“Tourists?” Alastor asked as they watched the two airboats speed up again and disappear around a bend in the river.

“Seems like it,” Lucifer replied thoughtfully. “Well, I guess it should be expected. There’s going to be a lot of them in the city, too.”

Alastor hummed, clearly not sounding too fond of that idea. Still, Lucifer had a feeling that as long as the city in itself hadn’t changed too much, Alastor wouldn’t care too much about the tourists. They’d be able to walk around and explore either way, and probably find places where they’d been before.

They met another couple of airboats and some fishermen who greeted them on their way past. Lucifer forgot how friendly humans tended to be, even to strangers. Well, some. It depended a lot on where on Earth you ended up. Even the amount of personal space someone was used to, varied.

The Mississippi river went all the way into the city, and the closer they got, the more traffic there was. Lucifer sat up after they hit another round of waves. He glanced at Alastor, trying to see his reaction to the amount of people. It was difficult with the sunglasses, but he could see a certain tension in his shoulders. He wanted to reassure him that it wouldn’t be too bad, but he had no idea how it looked other than doing a quick internet search. Still, he gave Alastor an excited grin, hoping to give him some encouragement being faced with a world that had rapidly changed during the last hundred years since they’d been there last.

Lucifer wasn’t that surprised by humans and their ability to evolve and develop over time. Every time he’d gone to Earth after it had been created, there was always something new and exciting to see. Everything got bigger and better for each visit. Communication, travel, globalisation. It all came from humans and their curiosity and motivation to create something to make life easier.

They got closer to the city centre, entering an even busier part of the river. ‘Miraculously’ they managed to find a spot to moor the skiff between a couple of other boats, and Lucifer picked up the line and jumped ashore. He secured the line and watched Alastor turn the motor off and turn to him. He put the keys in his pockets and walked over to Lucifer, who offered his hand and helped him up on the dock.

The two of them looked around where they stood, taking in the amount of people. Everything looked busier than Lucifer remembered. It also felt bigger than it had been, which wasn’t that surprising, really. He just hoped they’d be able to find the parts they both knew.

“Welcome back,” Lucifer said.

Alastor tightened his hold on his hand.

Chapter Text

New Orleans wasn’t like Alastor had imagined. He knew it would be different, but the more the two of them strolled through the streets and explored both old and new spots, he realised it wasn’t that far from how it had been. At least, not the parts he’d grown up with. The newer areas weren’t something he found himself caring much about, since they hadn’t even existed when he was in the city last. However, seeing the French Quarter, Uptown, the Garden District and the other more central districts in the area having stayed mostly the same (if only in layout, buildings and such), calmed his worry enough that he started enjoying himself quite a lot.

He could do without the tourists, though. That was probably the thing that saddened him the most, seeing how many tourist shops had been put up in the French Quarter, having taken over some of the clubs and bars he’d once been to. Treme was another district he couldn’t help but feel like should’ve been preserved better than it had. Especially since it had such a big part to play in the origins of Jazz.

He knew there would be changes. He was prepared for it to be much worse, and thus, he definitely found that he couldn’t complain. Not at all, actually. He was having more fun than he thought he would, and reminiscing about his life on Earth and all the shit the two of them did during their first year together made it a pleasant experience all things considered. It hadn’t been all torture and murder during those days, even if that was how Lucifer usually showed up.

He realised he’d never actually asked how Lucifer knew when he planned a new kill, and when he asked, Lucifer didn’t give him a proper answer, which made Alastor believe he didn’t have a clue himself. Some things were meant to remain a mystery, he guessed.

They walked down Dauphine Street when Lucifer came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the sidewalk, making a few people grumble as they made their way around the two of them.

“What are you—?”

Alastor didn’t get to finish his question before Lucifer tugged him with him over to one of the buildings. He barely had time to look at the name of the establishment before they were through the doors and inside a room filled with taxidermized animal heads, a display with different animal body parts and even animal foetuses for sale.

“Really?” Alastor asked Lucifer who grinned up at him. “The Museum of Death?”

“They’ve got things from serial killers,” Lucifer said as he stepped past a few people and over to the girl behind the counter. “Hello,” he greeted her with more enthusiasm than he probably should. “Two tickets, please.”

Alastor let Lucifer handle the payment as he inspected the items in the giftshop. He looked at a couple of t-shirts before his gaze landed on a rack with different cards. Some of them seemed to depict simple sketches of famous, American serial killers. He scanned over the different faces, not really recognising any of them until he saw a very familiar face.

“Find something interesting?” Lucifer asked as he stepped over to him with the two tickets. He’d pushed his sunglasses up, letting them rest on the top of his head. Alastor didn’t say a word as he turned the rack so Lucifer could see what he’d found. “No fucking way,” he breathed and picked the card out of the rack. “They really captured your likeness.” He held the card up to compare it to the real thing. “You usually smile a bit more than this, though.”

“They must’ve used one of the pictures of me from the radio station as a reference,” Alastor muttered as he took the card from Lucifer. “They should’ve added a small devil on my shoulder.”

Lucifer grinned devilishly, glanced over his shoulder as if to see if anyone were looking, before he snapped his fingers. Alastor saw the image on the card change from a sketch of Alastor with a pretty calm smile, to giving him a much more menacing grin, as well as a small, cartoonish Lucifer sitting on his shoulder.

“Something like that?” Lucifer asked, making Alastor grin at him, mirroring the one on the card.

“Something like that, indeed,” Alastor replied, letting the card slip into his void. He had a feeling no one would care if one of them went missing. “Are we checking out the rest of the museum, or are we staying in the giftshop?”

Lucifer scoffed and nodded at him to follow, before the two of them stepped through the door to the rest of the museum. Alastor didn’t know for sure what he expected, but the number of bones and pictures from crime scenes wasn’t really it. He’d thought there’d be less animals, at least. He’d probably have appreciated it a lot more if there’d been humans on display other than a few shrunken heads and such. For someone else, it might’ve been more intense, but he couldn’t say he was too impressed.

They stepped past a man who gave the two of them a curious look, and Alastor stared back at him until he seemed to get uncomfortable and moved away from them. He walked around, glancing at the art and letters from different serial killers. He paused by the Thanatron, a machine used to let patients kill themselves. He couldn’t help but feel it was quite unimpressive. A push of a button to end someone’s suffering, and the doctor who’d given them the option hadn’t even pushed it himself.

“Hey, Al,” Lucifer piped up from somewhere on the other side of the room. Alastor turned to look at him, seeing him standing with his hand behind his back, looking at some pictures. “Come look at this.”

“What did you find?” Alastor asked as he walked over to him. “Oh,” he said once he realised what his husband was looking at.

“I remember that guy,” Lucifer muttered at the picture. “I thought we got rid of him?”

“We threw most of him to the alligators,” Alastor said, leaning closer to inspect the old crime scene photo from 1932. He definitely recognised his own handywork. The neat cuts and the missing pieces. He’d almost died while trying to kill him. If it hadn’t been for Lucifer, he’d have arrived in Hell a lot sooner. “I guess they weren’t too hungry that day. He must’ve drifted ashore.”

“Strange,” Lucifer muttered. “I usually tried to make sure they wouldn’t reappear.”

That was strange, Alastor thought, until he looked down and saw that the body had been found in 1933, not too long after their last day on Earth. “Seems like Heaven cut off your influence.”

“Shit,” Lucifer hissed. “That means the rest of them might’ve been found, too.” He frowned at the wall, placing his hands on his hips as he scanned the rest of the pictures. There were a few others that the two of them had been behind, but none of their bigger kills. It felt like the entire wall was missing huge pieces of their history. “It says it’s a cold case,” Lucifer pointed out, which yeah, it did.

“Well, if the body reappeared after we died, I guess they couldn’t place it,” Alastor said as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Which is also strange, because it’s clearly my MO.”

“I can’t see any other ones from our time,” Lucifer hummed. “Oh, well. Maybe they’ve got a museum just for you, since you’re from here?” he asked, and Alastor had a feeling they definitely didn’t.

Lucifer seemed to understand how unlikely it sounded, but he shrugged with a cheeky smile on his lips before he started moving away from the wall. Alastor tilted his head at the rest of the pictures. It was just a bunch of cold cases, and quite a few of them were his own doing. Some were even from before he met Lucifer.

Much more interesting than the push of a button, he thought to himself as he followed his husband through the rest of the exhibits. It wasn’t the biggest museum, and it certainly didn’t have anything specific to Alastor’s own kills except for the few pictures that had never been connected to him for whatever reason. It felt like there should’ve been a lot more specific to him, given that they had his face plastered on a card out in the giftshop, but he guessed they just hadn’t gotten his things after he died. His furniture had been sold, at least.

The thought irritated him, even if he knew he couldn’t exactly expect the world to leave his things alone. They’d still been useable, and certainly those who enjoyed the morbidity of owning something from a known serial killer were interested in getting their hands on them. The assassins managing to track down some of them was also quite impressive.

Lucifer waved at the girl behind the counter, who barely even looked at them as they left.

“Well, that was underwhelming,” Alastor said once they were back outside. He offered his arm to Lucifer who placed his hand in the crook of his elbow and put his sunglasses back in place.

“I really thought they’d have more things related to your crimes,” Lucifer admitted as they started walking down the street. “The card was fun, though. And the few pictures they had, even if they didn’t know it was your doing.”

“Our doing,” Alastor corrected him, making Lucifer giggle. “Should we go and check the restaurant while we’re in the area?”

“Lead the way.”

Alastor hummed a little tune as they walked. He felt himself moving slower than he usually did. He dreaded the thought of the restaurant being gone. The worst thing he could possibly imagine was if that had been changed into a damned tourist shop, too. It would be worse than if the building had just ceased to exist, in Alastor’s opinion. Had it become another type of shop, he might be okay with it if it still kept its origin to some extent. It could be anything from keeping the piano on display to just a few pictures from its glory days.

Lucifer noticed his lack of speed, but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he babbled about anything he seemed to come up with, like the times he’d apparently tried to find Alastor in the city, or what he’d done to get the police off of their backs whenever they’d killed someone in a less-than-ideal way that would’ve gotten them caught within a couple of days at the most if it hadn’t been for Lucifer’s interference. Alastor found himself focusing on his stories instead of on where they were heading, and it wasn’t until Lucifer slowed down further that he realised they’d reached their destination.

“It looks awfully closed down,” Alastor muttered, glancing at the dead-looking windows. There was clearly no one there, and it made his heart sink in his chest.

“Or closed for the day,” Lucifer replied, pulling Alastor with him over to the restaurant. He let go once they got closer, skipping up the steps to look at the note hanging on the other side of the door. “Yup, just for the day,” he informed Alastor before he looked in through the windows. “Hey, come check this out! It looks almost exactly the same!”

“What?” Alastor said, hurrying up after him. He noticed the note with the opening times, seeing it was closed most days a week but that it was supposed to be open the next day. He saw Lucifer grin up at him, nodding for him to take a closer look. Alastor did, using his hands to block out the light so he could see through the windows. The sight that met him made his heart speed up. It really did look mostly the same, except a few changes or upgrades to the bar and the scene having more modern-looking equipment. Other than that, it looked quite similar to how the two had left it the last time they were there. “Would you look at that,” Alastor said quietly, feeling the hope of maybe getting to experience the restaurant once again. “Does it say anything about reserving a table?”

“Not really,” Lucifer replied from where he had his face pressed against the glass. “Looks like it’s one of those places that stayed hidden.” He turned to Alastor with an excited glimmer in his eye. “I guess we’ll have to come back tomorrow, if you’re up for it.”

Alastor was definitely up for it. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said as he gave the closed restaurant one last look and stepped back onto the street. Lucifer joined him, and the two of them ended up hovering, not entirely sure what to do next. “That leaves the question of where we’re having dinner, tonight.”

“Good point,” Lucifer muttered, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Alastor watched as he searched for something, before his face lit up and he turned the screen towards him. “What about on a paddle steamer?” he asked.

“It looks like the most tourist-trappy place you could find,” Alastor scoffed.

“It could give us some insight on what’s been going on here since we were here last,” Lucifer offered, before he scrolled down a little bit more. “They have dinner reservation for 7:45,” he continued, before he paused. “Oh, fuck.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “What? No available tables?”

“No, not that,” Lucifer huffed and turned the screen towards him, again. “It’s only for people between the ages of two and ninety-nine.”

Alastor breathed in deeply, feeling a mix of anger and amusement as he let it out slowly, contemplating if he should call his husband an idiot, or if he should just join in on the idiocy. The longer he took to answer, the wider and more shit-eating Lucifer’s grin became.

“Well, if you’re feeling rebellious,” he grumbled.

“They’re serving a variety of creole dishes,” Lucifer informed him, which did sound inviting if Alastor was being honest.

Lucifer continued to fill him in on the different things the cruise offered as they started moving, again. Alastor listened to him. Well, he mostly listened but found himself getting caught up in the feeling of being back in his home town. He could do without the cars, too, he found, but he truly was pleasantly surprised by the state of it. From what Lucifer had told him throughout the day, there’d been some efforts to preserve the core of the city, and that was about all he could have hoped for when it came to it. From what he’d heard from other sinners, the cities of the world had generally changed a lot from what they once were because of globalisation, the wars, and so on. Not that New Orleans hadn’t changed, too, but again, it felt a lot like what it had, except for a few modernisations of the core, as well as how it had expanded.

They turned down a street, and Alastor had to stop and stare at the familiar streetcar driving past them. Lucifer glanced at him curiously, before he followed his gaze and saw what Alastor was looking at.

“Oh, my fucking dad,” Lucifer blurted out. “They’re still around?!”

“Apparently,” Alastor said as he saw the St. Charles streetcar turn the corner and disappear. He would be lying if he didn’t feel at least a little bit ecstatic about it. He had no idea if they were the same or just a replica, but just seeing one of the green streetcars gave him an intense sense of nostalgia.

Lucifer put his phone away and grabbed his hand, before he tugged him with him. “We have to check it out!” he exclaimed as they hurried down the street. “There’s a stop around here, somewhere, isn’t there?”

“We’re not going to make it before it leaves,” Alastor pointed out, only to see the world around him change in an instant. “Unless we teleport,” he added dryly, sending his smirking husband a glare.

“I didn’t want to miss it,” he said where the two of them stood at the next stop of the St. Charles line, seeing the streetcar come rumbling towards them.

Alastor felt himself huff at the sight of it. He’d never really cared much about the streetcars, other than that they’d been useful. The ones the two of them had used hadn’t arrived in New Orleans before the middle of the twenties, and while he’d found them mildly interesting the first couple of weeks, they hadn’t been much more than a mode of transportation. He’d used them a few times to get to the radio station if he got to the city by boat, but other than that, he preferred walking.

Now, however, seeing a blast from the past, he almost felt a little emotional about it. The excitement didn’t die down when he realised it was one of the actual streetcars he’d used back in the thirties. It sounded exactly the same as it slowed to a stop beside them. The doors flipped open and Lucifer dragged him aboard, greeting the driver and showing him his phone. The man gave them a nod, and Lucifer continued to tug him farther into the vehicle. The wooden seats were just like Alastor remembered them. The only difference was the information displays and the automated announcements, but other than that, it was the same.

Lucifer flipped one of the reversible seats and sat down, letting Alastor sit down in front of him. The streetcar was put into motion.

“I forgot how noisy they are,” Lucifer said as he leaned out of the window and looked around. Alastor agreed with that, especially with the extra sensitive hearing he’d gained since he died. “But damn, it’s like I’m back,” he muttered.

Alastor watched him for a moment. “We’ll be going past my old workplace,” he said, seeing his partner freeze. He’d never told Lucifer where he worked when he was alive, and while the two of them were back in Hell, he’d only told him about his profession. Where he’d worked in New Orleans had never come up. “If you’d like, we could check it out?”

Lucifer pushed his sunglasses up so he could look at him properly. It made Alastor smile a little wider. Lucifer’s eyes practically sparkled.

“Of course, I want to!” he huffed. “The amount of secrecy around it made me curious as fuck.” He slid his foot over to Alastor’s, tapping the tip of his shoe against his. Alastor lifted his toes up, and Lucifer wasted no time, doing the same, ending up with the two of them resting the tips of their shoes together. “I didn’t want to ask about it in case you didn’t want me to know,” Lucifer admitted.

“I didn’t want you to know at the time, but I believe you figured out I was a radio host pretty quickly after our reunion,” Alastor said, letting his voice crackle with a grin.

“A bit difficult to miss, yeah.” Lucifer tilted his head playfully. “Well, then, Radio Demon. Where are we going?”

“To Loyola University,” Alastor stated.

“The university?” Lucifer questioned.

“Indeed,” Alastor confirmed. “I was studying there at the time when the first radio station was established in 1922,” he told him. “I helped them out with the technical bits at first, but then I got to join in on a segment and apparently they enjoyed my personality enough to let me start hosting.” Lucifer leaned forward in his seat. His eyes were locked onto him as he listened. “I had to adopt the transatlantic accent, of course, but it was definitely a small price to pay to be able to be a radio host.” He sighed, gazing out on the buildings moving by outside the streetcar. “We moved to the Roosevelt Hotel in 1932, but I didn’t get to host there for long before my inevitable end.”

“How dramatic,” Lucifer commented dryly.

“It was, actually,” Alastor retorted. “I died after having killed my best friend. I’d say that deserves some drama.”

“I’m sure you would.” Lucifer grinned at him, pushing his feet against Alastor’s. Alastor pushed back.

“The new studio was close to that death museum, actually.”

“Fuck, if it’s still a hotel, we could’ve stayed there for the night!” Lucifer groaned, leaning back against his seat.

“I prefer the house,” Alastor informed him with a smile. “And besides, it would just feel like being back at work, I think.”

“I’d still like to check it out, to be honest,” Lucifer grumbled. “It’s just fun to see what you did when I wasn’t around.” He pursed his lips, glancing at Alastor. “It’s also nice to get to know more about you.”

“You know a lot, already,” Alastor said.

“But not everything,” Lucifer argued. “Well, I don’t need to know everything,” he muttered with a grimace. “Either way, your life on Earth has always been a mystery to me, and you’ve never really told me much about it after we found each other again, either. As I said, I still don’t even know what your last name was.”

“Unless you read it somewhere, I’ll never tell you, either,” Alastor huffed, smirking. “And besides, I have a better one, now, don’t you think?”

Lucifer’s cheeks grew pinkish. “I believe you do,” he mumbled. “But please tell me more about your life as a radio host, at least, because it’s really interesting to hear about your human life,” he said as the streetcar came to a stop and a few more people got on.

And Alastor did. Lucifer asked about everything from the more technical parts of an old-school radio transmitter from the twenties, to what Alastor usually talked about during his show. The two of them got off the streetcar outside Loyola University, and continued their conversation as they strolled over towards Marquette Hall, the main building where the radio station had been in one of the classrooms. A few students wandered around the area, some giving them curious looks as they made their way into the building.

Alastor continued to explain how the radio station had gotten upgraded and moved to Bobet Hall just behind Marquette Hall during 1929. He’d had a lot of fun talking about the stock market crash at the end of that year, which the other hosts had been less happy to talk about. It had impacted everyone, of course, but he hadn’t really cared too much about it, instead finding it rather amusing how the entire world had been affected. The Great Depression that followed might not have cause too many casualties, so to speak, but he had enjoyed blowing it out of proportions (much to the annoyance of his cohosts).

Lucifer nodded along to his story, looking like he was enjoying every second as he listened. Alastor decided they may as well take a walk around campus and check out both new and old buildings. He felt Lucifer’s shadow’s hand hold onto his own shadow’s as they explored the area. Lucifer’s curiosity never seemed to dwindle, which Alastor certainly didn’t mind. He didn’t know he’d enjoy sharing this much about his life on Earth. Lucifer’s wonder-filled eyes also made him enjoy it all the more.

After their little campus tour, they ended up back in one of the streetcars and headed back towards the French Quarter. They decided it would be better to stay in the area while they waited for the cruise.

It had been a great day, already, Alastor thought as they made their way down the narrow streets. He’d been quite sceptical about it, at first, but now he couldn’t help but be excited. It felt right being there with Lucifer, and somehow even better knowing that they could come back whenever they wanted. Alastor had started seeing Hell as his home, but it would never be what New Orleans was. Making it his vacation home felt like absolute perfection. It made it possible for him to be home no matter if he was in Hell or on Earth.

The thought made him sneakily grab Lucifer’s hand. He didn’t know if it was because of the gratitude he felt towards his husband for making it happen and wanting Lucifer to know it, or if it was because of the rush of emotions that coursed though him, making him feel like holding onto something. Probably a bit of both, as well as a bunch of other reasons, most of them boiling down to just wanting to hold his hand. The reason behind it wasn’t that important, and with how Lucifer adjusted his hold so he could intertwine their fingers, he didn’t mind the closeness. Alastor usually minded displaying affection in public, but not there on Earth. It was their place, and he could do whatever he wanted, there. If that was holding his husband’s hand, then so be it.

“We still have some time to kill before we have to get to the boat,” Lucifer said as they walked down another street. “Is there anything you’d like to check out before we go?”

Alastor hummed as he looked around, eyes landing on one of the many voodoo shops in the area. “Why don’t we go in there?” he asked, pointing at the shop.

“Sure,” Lucifer agreed as they got closer to it. “Anything special you need?”

“Not really, but maybe I’ll find something I can use.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Not that voodoo magic is more effective or stronger than demonic—especially now, but I’ve always dabbled, you know,” he said, making Lucifer nod.

They stepped into the small shop and Alastor let his glasses turn transparent, again while Lucifer pushed his up on his head.

It felt quite cluttered. There were a bunch of different tools for ritualistic purposes. Voodoo dolls and gris-gris bags were strung up above the counter in the back of the room. Shelves were filled with artifacts, like statues of the different deities and loa, or amulets, necklaces and masks. Most of the items had intricate Veve symbols carved into them that also represented the loa. A sign hung behind the counter with prices for different services like blessings and readings. Other than that, there were racks and shelves filled with everything from herbs, roots and potions, to candles, to tarot cards, bones and shells, as well as pendulums.

Alastor grinned to himself as he looked around at the colourful display.

There were a few other people in the store, including the vendor. She welcomed them as they moved farther inside. However, her greeting stuttered to a stop and her eyes widened the longer she looked at them. She gripped the countertop hard enough to make her knuckles turn white.

The other people noticed her reaction, too. They turned to the two of them, staring at them suspiciously. Lucifer just greeted them all with a kind smile, while Alastor started looking at the shelves. He let his shadow keep an eye on the humans, which was why he wasn’t surprised when the vendor stood right beside him and cleared her throat.

“You’re not welcome here, spirits,” she spat. Alastor had to bite back a laugh as he continued to check out the artifacts.

“We’re not here to cause trouble,” he told her pleasantly as he picked up a small statue. He turned it over in his hand. He could feel the vendor glare at him, clearly trying to intimidate him. “We’re on vacation.”

The woman looked like she didn’t know for sure what to do with that information. “Are…are you possessing them?”

Alastor turned to look at Lucifer, grinning sweetly. “Are we possessing someone, darling?”

“Nope,” he huffed. “Just looking around, checking out the place. It’s been a while since we were in the city, madam,” he explained with another kind grin. “We’re not malevolent if that’s what you think. We’re not exactly spirits, either.”

“We’re also from quite a different religion,” Alastor added, not really knowing if he was allowed to give out the information of who they really were. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind if the lack of attempts at shutting him up was any indication. “Though, I’ve always been fascinated by voodoo.”

“Oh,” the vendor muttered.

“Oh, damn,” Lucifer exclaimed and stepped past the two of them. The vendor looked like she wanted to stop him, but didn’t quite know how with the apparent realisation of what she was dealing with. He picked up one of the small glass vials from one of the shelves and held it up to show her. “Is this a real love potion?”

“Are you planning on using it on anyone?” Alastor questioned with a tilt of his head.

Lucifer snorted and placed it back on the shelf. “A potion is all well and good, but the effect usually doesn’t last too long,” he stated, picking up another one. “Or it’s not strong enough to do much.” He glanced at the vendor. She glared at him, which made the other people in the shop look even more suspicious. Lucifer grinned, teeth looking like they were getting a little sharper. “I could make it a proper love potion.”

Alastor hummed darkly. “As much as I love a good deal, I think we should respect the craftmanship that goes into making these things.”

“Oh, I’m respecting it,” Lucifer said, raising his hands placatingly. “I’m just saying it would be the equivalent of giving someone some herbal tea when they’re sick. It’s not a huge effect, but it’s there. It’s probably some of the stronger magic that can be created by humans that isn’t just purely scientific.” He gave the vendor an apologetic look. “I’m not helping with the sales, am I?”

“Not particularly,” the vendor replied gruffly. She seemed to understand that they weren’t actually there to do anything to the people or to the shop, so she shuffled back over to the counter. “Just don’t leave any of that nasty energy you’ve got on any of my things,” she muttered.

Alastor gave her a courteous nod. “Noted,” he said.

The other people in the shop made their way out, whispering to each other and glancing at them over their shoulders before they disappeared off into the early evening. Alastor had a feeling they were tourists, but possibly more spiritually interested than a lot of the others they’d passed by that day. He didn’t know if their reactions were because of the vendor’s initial response to them or if was because of the demonic energy wafting off of the two of them.

He glanced at the gris-gris bags hanging beside the voodoo dolls over the counter, before his eyes landed on the sign. He grinned a little wider.

“Would it be possible for you to make me a custom gris-gris?” he asked the vendor, who apparently had decided to adopt the suspicion from the people who’d just left.

“Why?”

“Because I’d like one.” Alastor grinned. “We’ll pay, of course.”

The vendor stared at him, before her eyes flickered to where Lucifer was still checking out the different potions. She sighed and scratched her temple as she turned back to him.

“What type of gris-gris?” she asked.

Alastor hummed. “One of love, I suppose.”

The vendor’s eyes widened, once again snapping over to Lucifer and back to him. “Is it for…?”

“Yes,” Alastor confirmed, trying to stop himself from feeling uncomfortable talking about his relationship with a stranger. “Not because of any struggle in our relationship. It’s more of a gris-gris of appreciation, if you know what I mean?”

“I do,” the vendor mumbled, still glancing over to Lucifer from time to time, who’d ended up moving over to the roots and herbs. “I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. It’s not often I come across demons in love.”

Alastor watched as she got out a small, red piece of cloth and started placing different things on top of it. “Has it happened before?” he asked curiously.

“Well, I haven’t come across someone in an actual relationship, but you aren’t the first demons I’ve met,” she told him as she put some rosemary onto the cloth. Alastor smiled to himself. “You are by far the easiest to sense, though.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, making her look away from her work for a moment. He gestured to the cloth. “Could you walk me through the process? It’s been a while since I made one myself. I might want to make more on my own, someday.”

“You do voodoo?” she asked. The confusion was clear on her face.

“I quite enjoyed it when I was alive,” Alastor admitted. “Then it became a part of my own magic when I died.”

She blinked at him. “You… when you—you were human once?”

“Don’t give her an existential crisis,” Lucifer warned from where he was inspecting the tarot cards. He was clearly listening in on their conversation.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alastor replied. He had a massive amount of respect for voodoo priestesses, and trying to make her mad was the last thing he wanted. He turned back to her. “Better not think too much about it. Just tell me what you’re using, instead.”

“Right,” she spluttered, shaking her head as if to get rid of her own thoughts. She held the bag open and started going through everything she’d already put in it, telling him the meaning behind each item. He asked her to switch out a few of them just to make the bag better represent what he felt for his husband. When she was done finding all the items he’d like, she tied up the bag and dabbed it with some oil. “There you go,” she said, handing it to him.

Alastor took it, feeling the weight of it as he looked it over. It was radiating appreciation and love, just like he’d wanted. It was perfect.

“Wonderful,” he told her. “How much?”

“It’s on the house,” she replied.

“What?”

The vendor raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s on the house,” she repeated. “I don’t want whatever money you have. Just take it and go.”

“Are you sure?” Alastor asked.

“Absolutely. Demonic energy is tiring, and having it in my shop is a no,” she grumbled. “Even if it’s in the form of money,” she added, placing her hands on her hips.

“Well, then I’d like to thank you some other way,” Alastor said. “Expect some new customers for the next few days.” When the suspicion came back, he added, “Humans, of course. I’ll just give them a slight push in the direction of your shop.”

“Thanks,” the woman said dryly.

“You’re welcome,” Alastor replied before he turned to Lucifer. “Lucifer,” he said, smirking when he heard the vendor gasp behind him. “I’ve got something for you.”

Lucifer perked up from where he was reading an old-looking book, pretending not to have listened to the two of them while he was waiting. “You do?”

Again, Alastor knew for a fact that his husband knew exactly what he was getting, but he decided to play along. “I do,” he said while walking over to him. “Here.”

Lucifer stared at the gris-gris bag for a moment before he took it. “Wow,” he muttered. “I can actually feel it.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Alastor said as he started moving towards the door. He gave the vendor one last grin before he stepped out of the shop. Lucifer followed him, eyes still trained on the bag as he turned it over in his hands. “It’s customised with you in mind,” he explained, glancing at the darkening sky. “I thought, since I’m not the best at showing you my appreciation I could give you something that would make you feel it.”

“You softie,” Lucifer teased, making Alastor roll his eyes. “I love it. Thank you.” He somehow managed to fit the hand-sized bag into his pocket. “I’ll keep this with me everywhere I go,” he promised, using his now-free hand to find Alastor’s. Alastor squeezed his hand, not feeling like he could say anything without it coming out as static.

The two of them strolled down Toulouse Street on their way to the cruise (Alastor kept his promise of pushing the people they passed towards the voodoo shop). The boat was leaving in not too long, and so they decided to get there a little earlier than strictly necessary. The paddle steamer was covered in lights when they arrived, and they seemed to get brighter for every minute as the evening got darker. It made it stand out from the rest of the boats in the harbour (well, it already did with its classic design and the huge paddle in the back, but the lights made it look extra magical).

It didn’t take them long to get onboard and find a nice spot on the top deck. They stood side by side, leaning against the railing as the steam engine started up and the boat departed from the wharf. The sounds of the whistles and the bells made another round of nostalgia rush through Alastor as he looked at the city he spent his childhood and life in. His smile softened when he felt Lucifer move a little closer to him and hum a gentle melody. Alastor recognised it as La vie en Rose. It was barely loud enough to be heard over the chuffing of the steam engine.

He moved his arm until his hand brushed against the side of Lucifer’s arm. Lucifer hooked his pinkie finger around Alastor’s. The snake slithered from her spot on his ring finger and over to where their hands were connected.

“Did you name her?” Lucifer asked him after she’d started to curl up around their fingers. Alastor thought it looked like she was watching the city with them, but he couldn’t be sure. Snakes weren’t exactly known for their eyesight or hearing. It was a magical creature, however, and she had heard his question during the wedding when he asked her if she was okay with her new name.

“Louisa,” he said, feeling the snake’s attention shift to him.

“What a beautiful name,” Lucifer complimented, smiling knowingly. Louisa wiggled happily where she sat.

They could hear the music start up on the other end of the boat, and some announcement from the captain. They didn’t listen too closely, instead enjoying the view and the sound of smooth jazz drifting over to them. Alastor closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the wind playing with his hair. He couldn’t remember having gone on any of the steam paddlers back when he was alive, but he couldn’t say he regretted the choice, even if it was definitely a tourist trap like most of the other things he’d seen around the French Quarter that day.

“How does it feel being back?” Lucifer asked after a while.

“Better than I expected,” Alastor admitted, letting the snake go back to his ring finger before he turned around and leaned his back against the railing instead. “I’m actually quite surprised they managed to keep the city core so unchanged. I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories of how Earth has changed after the second world war?”

“I have, yeah,” Lucifer mumbled. “I was just worried they’d gotten rid of most of the places we frequented, but it seems they’ve survived for now.” He smiled up at him, the lights making his eyes sparkle. It was unusual seeing the blue irises. Another thing to feel nostalgic about, Alastor thought. It wasn’t that he missed them, per se, but they’d been a part of the beginning of their journey together, and while they still looked slightly off, they were still pretty. “You’re okay with the honeymoon location, then?”

“It’s the perfect choice,” Alastor replied. “I’m having a great time.”

“Even if you weren’t really prepared for a honeymoon?” Lucifer muttered.

Alastor tilted his head. “Were you worried I wouldn’t want to go?” Lucifer shrugged and looked away from him. “I know our friends have a tendency to be a bit vulgar with their suggestions and their implications,” Alastor said quietly, thinking back to the time before the wedding when most of their friends had quite a lot of fun imagining their honeymoon for some reason. “And I’ve been thinking about what a traditional honeymoon usually entails, myself, a few times,” he confessed, making Lucifer glance back up at him. “I always reached the same conclusion that we’re not what you would call a traditional couple.” He sighed. “And so, I realised pretty early on that if we ever did go on a honeymoon, it wouldn’t be much different than going on a vacation trip somewhere.”

“Just a little more special treatment, I’d say,” Lucifer huffed. “Don’t expect breakfast in bed if we ever go on a regular trip, somewhere.”

“Hmm, somehow I feel like you’d end up getting me breakfast in bed, anyway,” Alastor mused quietly, making Lucifer grumble something under his breath. He leaned down and kissed his temple, making his husband turn to him, again. His eyes kept glittering with adoration. With the lights from the city as his backdrop, and the reflection of them in the water, Alastor felt his heart skip a beat. He kept forgetting just how much Lucifer cared about him, and all his partner had to do to remind him was to give him such a simple look. It was sickeningly sweet, and he loved it more and more every time it happened. “You’re spoiling me,” he grumbled.

“You’re worth it,” Lucifer murmured.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Now, who’s being a softie,” Alastor said, making Lucifer chuckle.

“Shut up,” he huffed and leaned a little closer to him. “You love the attention.”

Alastor couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t. Instead, he moved back around so the two of them were standing, leaning against the railing with their arms flush against each other, gazing out at the world around them. The first few stars could be seen glimmering above, joining in with the city lights. He could see Lucifer look up at them in his peripheral. It made him wonder how many of them his husband had put there. Quite a few, he imagined.

The time of their dinner reservation came, and the two of them made their way into the dining area and found a table. The food in itself wasn’t bad, and eating some of the more traditional creole dishes on Earth and not in Hell felt oddly more satisfying than he thought it would. He guessed it mixed with the feeling of being in New Orleans, and the smell of it all. As well as having good company and listening to good music.

They ended up on the deck where the live jazz band played. Lucifer muttered something about stealing the show, but Alastor told him he’d rather do that the next day when they got back to the restaurant. Lucifer seemed to agree, but that didn’t stop him from pulling him into a dance. It gave them a bit of an audience, anyway, which Alastor found he didn’t mind much. Until someone tried to film it. Lucifer noticed it, too, and promptly made the phone short circuit, much to the tourist’s frustration.

Other than that, the cruise was a lot of fun. They ended up back against the railing while they waited for the boat to dock, again. When it did, they made their way back onto dry land, and ended up once again wandering the streets. It had gone completely dark by then, and the only light was from the streetlights, the bars and other establishments. They stayed clear of Bourbon Street, the noise from the amount of people there making them want to find a much less wild place to get a drink. They ended up in a much calmer part of the city, not too far from where they’d moored the boat.

There weren’t that many people there. A few couples who seemed to be locals, as well as a group of friends chatting in one of the booths. The bartender gave them a nod in greeting when they entered. Alastor found them a seat while Lucifer ordered them a couple of drinks. He sat down and waited for his husband to return, looking around. It was a newer bar, from what he could tell. He couldn’t remember being there before, at least. Not that he was in too many of the bars when he’d been alive. He mostly went to Mimzy’s club or some of the sketchier bars in the area closer to where he’d usually brought his victims. This one looked old enough to be from when he’d been alive, but he had no idea if it was or not.

“Here you go,” Lucifer said, placing a glass of rye down in front of him. He was also holding a bottle of whiskey he placed on the table before he slid into the booth in front of him. “Earth has such weak alcohol, so I thought I’d just buy some extra while I was at it,” he said, sipping to his own glass.

“It can’t be that weak,” Alastor said, remembering how drunk he could get during his time as a human. He hadn’t really felt much of a difference since he got to Hell.

“Oh, it is,” Lucifer assured him. “It tastes the same, but it doesn’t have as much of an effect on us demons unless we drink a lot of it,” he muttered. “You should’ve seen the looks I got whenever I waited for our targets to arrive and I had this insane line-up of glasses in front of me.” He grinned cheekily. “I wasn’t even tipsy,” he huffed.

“Were you trying to get drunk?” Alastor asked, sipping to his drink. It tasted much of the same, like Lucifer said.

“No, but sometimes I waited for hours, and I had nothing to do so I just kept ordering drinks. Some of the bartenders looked a bit concerned.” Lucifer snickered. “I think they thought I was going through a rough breakup or something. I guess I looked sad enough at the time,” he said thoughtfully, the mischievous glint in his eye making Alastor wonder how many of the bartenders had given him free drinks just to try and console him a bit.

“If I had known you were bored, I’d have joined you,” Alastor said, folding his hands and resting his chin on them.

“That wouldn’t exactly make people approach me, though,” Lucifer pointed out. “I’d love to have you there, of course, but, well…” He trailed off.

Alastor smirked. “I gave you performance anxiety.”

“Will you shut up about the performance anxiety?!” Lucifer snapped playfully, not able to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I do not have performance anxiety, and you know it!”

“So, you wouldn’t be a spluttering mess if I was there?” Alastor teased him, tilting his head. Lucifer stared at him for a moment, before he grimaced. “I actually do miss it. It wasn’t helpful, but it was quite cute.”

Lucifer pursed his lips, cheeks going red. “It was fucking embarrassing,” he grumbled.

“And incredibly entertaining when it didn’t end up with us almost getting caught,” Alastor retorted.

“That happened once.”

Alastor let out a sound of doubt, tilting his head the other way. “I remember it happening at least twice.”

“Yeah, right,” Lucifer scoffed, taking a good swig of his glass. “Well, I grew out of it eventually.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Lucifer snickered, grinning at him. “It hasn’t happened for a long time.” Alastor was about to point out another, quite recent time, but Lucifer cut him off. “Shut it. That wasn’t the same. Not exactly, at least. It doesn’t fucking matter. You don’t make me nervous, anymore.”

“I made you nervous?” Alastor grinned evilly when Lucifer realised what he’d said. “Were you trying to impress me, back then?”

“I was trying to look somewhat competent,” Lucifer tried to explain, not really managing to make it sound true. “I told you I was good at luring and tempting people.”

“Yes, and you did get them into the bayou, so I knew you had some talent,” Alastor said. “And whenever I followed behind you and you didn’t know I was there, you also seemed to be in control.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “Though, when you noticed me, you lost all sense of what you were doing.” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that not performance anxiety?”

“How’s the drink?” Lucifer asked.

“Subtle,” Alastor commented dryly, picking up the glass and taking a sip. “You’re right about the taste.”

“Right? I mean, most of the food is better on Earth, but at least the alcohol is mostly the same,” Lucifer said before going off on a bit of a rant about the things he’d love to do with Hell’s cuisine. Alastor had to admit it was quite fun to listen to his husband ramble with such a genuine interest in the future of their realm, all the way down to what food they had, and what could possibly grow down in the different rings. He couldn’t help but feel he’d been the reason for Lucifer’s sudden interest in cooking, after giving him that damned recipe book. It made him remember the apron Lucifer had given him, once, with the “Don’t Kiss the Cook Chef, You Might Get Stabbed” slogan printed on it. He wondered if maybe he could give Lucifer a similar one.

As they sat there, the bar got steadily more filled up with people. Lucifer had gotten them a bottle of wine to share after they’d gotten through the whiskey. He’d been right about the amount of alcohol needed to start feeling it, too. Alastor felt completely sober even after drinking more than what he usually needed to feel close to blackout drunk. It was almost a little disappointing if it weren’t for the fact that they got to try out quite a few drinks. The bartender still gave them some strange looks when Lucifer added a fifth bottle to the others on their table.

Not too long after that, a man caught Alastor’s attention. He strolled into the bar and went straight over to the counter, ordering a beer. The way he carried himself reminded Alastor about the countless others he’d killed. Lucifer noticed him, too. He leaned a little forward so he could talk to Alastor without being overheard.

“Do you feel it?” he asked.

“Feel it?” Alastor questioned, glancing at him.

“His sins?” Lucifer clarified with a sharklike grin. “He’s oozing with it.”

Alastor stared at him. “You can feel their sins?”

“How do you think I knew what you were back then?” Lucifer said. “Or how to find the right people? Your descriptions weren’t all that good.”

“Or you just didn’t listen,” Alastor retorted.

“Well, either way, it’s another reason why I always found sinners so awful to be around. At least, the worst ones,” he added quickly as he stared at the guy. “What do you think? Do you want to give him a shot?”

Alastor hadn’t actually thought they would end up killing anyone that evening. He didn’t think they’d find anyone, even if the entire city was filled with more people than he could remember there being. However, the longer he stared at the guy by the bar, the more he felt that old, familiar spark of bloodthirst wake up in him.

Alastor felt Lucifer’s finger against his chin, turning his head so he looked at him. “Don’t lose control,” he warned quietly, before he wiped his thumb across the corner of Alastor’s mouth and showed him the blood he’d scooped up. Alastor furrowed his brow, realising his teeth had grown sharper. He’d managed to nick himself.

“Shit,” Alastor hissed, licking the blood away from his lip as he let his teeth flatten again. He felt a surge of adrenaline course through him—no, wait. It was Lucifer’s powers, he realised. He wasn’t used to them, yet. He felt his hands tremble like they’d done in the beginning when he first felt Lucifer’s energy blend with his own.

He felt Lucifer’s hands grab his. The warmth of them helped him ground him.

“Do you want me to dial it down a bit?” Lucifer asked gently.

“No, just let me get used to it,” Alastor grumbled.

Lucifer nodded. “I guess this means you would like to use up some energy?” he asked when Alastor’s hands stopped shaking.

“I believe so,” Alastor huffed, making Lucifer grin, teeth looking sharp, again. “Are you going to be able to convince him to take a walk, or do I have to watch you ruin our chances?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and got up from his seat, chugged the last bourbon in his glass and placed the glass down, uttering a quiet “watch and learn,” before he stepped over to the bar and sat down beside their target, leaving one seat between them. Lucifer nodded at the bartender, who seemed really hesitant giving him another drink. He placed a beer down in front of Lucifer, who looked a little displeased about the choice of drink. He’d probably ordered something else, Alastor realised, only for the bartender to give him something less strong.

Lucifer didn’t let that stop him from taking a sip, though, as he leaned against the bar. Alastor couldn’t hear what they were talking about over the sound of chatter from the rest of the humans around him, but he could more or less see Lucifer turn up the temptation. It almost worked a little too well, as a few others looked over, as well. He downed the rest of his own bourbon and watched as the man at the bar gave Lucifer a quick once-over. Alastor huffed at the ease of which his husband gained attention from the human. He’d clearly done it quite a few times, but again, what should he expect from the original tempter?

Their conversation continued, Lucifer laughing pleasantly every once in a while. He’d turned so he could lean back against the bar and let his eyes wander around the room, landing on Alastor sitting alone in their booth. Lucifer’s eyes snapped to the door and back to Alastor, and Alastor took the hint, getting up from his seat and moving to the exit. He stepped outside into the warm night air, seeing a few couples walking down the sidewalk. He made his way around the corner and into the alley behind the bar where he leaned against the wall and waited. His shadow grinned excitedly at him.

He picked at his nails, listening close, trying to hear when Lucifer and the man would appear. He could hear Lucifer’s footsteps not too long after, accompanied by some he didn’t recognise. He kept his eyes on his nails, feeling how strange it felt to not have claws, for once.

Lucifer and the guy came strolling into the alley and passed him. Alastor noticed Lucifer’s shadow move over and grab onto Alastor’s and pull it along. He had to stop himself from grinning as he pushed off from the wall and started following, making sure to stay far enough away from them to stay mostly out of sight. Lucifer’s shadow pointed at him, before it gestured to his shadow, and Alastor wasted no time letting his void consume him so he could follow them unnoticed.

Lucifer stopped in front of a coffee shop and motioned for the guy to wait, before he went inside and came back out with two cardboard coffee cups. He handed one to the guy before the two of them kept walking. Alastor followed until they got to the boat. He let his shadow carry him past them and into the boat, where he discarded the keys to the motor below one of the floor boards. Lucifer stepped into the boat a moment later, the guy following close behind.

Alastor’s shadow pointed at the floorboard with the keys, and Lucifer immediately went to get them like he’d placed them there himself. A moment later, Lucifer got the engine running, and their target untied the lines and helped guide the boat out from between the others.

When they were out in the open, Lucifer turned the boat in the direction of the bayou, before he let the boat speed up. Alastor listened to their conversation, but tuned it out when it wasn’t really that interesting. Lucifer clearly made himself sound completely clueless about the other’s intentions where they drove down the Mississippi River. Alastor was a bit surprised Lucifer actually knew how to drive the boat.

Lucifer sped up considerably when they got farther away from the city. He was still sipping to his coffee. It didn’t take too long to get to a quite remote area of the bayou and Lucifer slowed them down again to be able to navigate the overgrown river. He continued to chat to the target, still sounding completely oblivious.

A beep came from the motor, making the two of them pause and turn to look at the engine. Lucifer frowned when the boat started to slow down further. He glanced at their target before he turned his back to him to look at the motor.

“Damn it,” he hissed. “It’s out of power.”

“I tried to tell you those electric outboard motors fucking suck,” the guy said.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t like I could change it right then and there,” Lucifer shot back. “It doesn’t really matter. We’re almost at the house.” He looked at their target with an apologetic grin. “If you don’t mind a little walk, of course. We can just tie it up, here, and I’ll come back for it in the morning.”

“Don’t you have oars?” the guy asked.

“Nope, sorry. I thought I could trust this piece of shit.” Lucifer punched the motor. “Apparently not.”

“How far is it?”

“Shouldn’t take us more than half an hour or so,” Lucifer said as he got up and stepped past the guy, before he grabbed the line in the front and jumped over to the shore. He pulled the boat closer until their target could get out. Lucifer hummed to himself as he handed his coffee over to him, before he tied up the boat to a tree. “There. That should hold for the night,” he muttered, taking back his cup. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” their target said, sounding a little distant. “After you.”

Lucifer didn’t say anything as he started to walk through the trees. Alastor got back out of his shadow and out of the boat once they were out of sight. He checked the line just to make sure Lucifer had secured it well enough, before he moved after the two of them. He could hear Lucifer continue to chat with the guy, which made it easier to follow them. Not that he needed to hear them. Their footprints looked as clear as day with his demonic vision.

He felt the same bloodthirst bubble up in him as he followed them. He moved a little faster, getting one of his knives out of his void. He gripped the handle tightly as he moved in a wide berth around Lucifer and the guy, before he ended up leaning against a tree. He waited patiently for them to get closer. He felt his grin widen and his teeth sharpen as he stood there, another rush of Lucifer’s powers making a shiver go down his spine.

It had been so long, and all he could think about was cutting, slicing, biting, eating, gnawing—He blinked, grimacing at the way his nails had buried themselves into his palms. He focused on getting them back to a more human length and turned back to listening to Lucifer and his victim. They were almost by the tree.

The moment Lucifer stepped past him, Alastor jumped out of his hiding spot, coming face to face with the human. The look of shock on his face made the bloodlust spike, and he brought the knife down towards his victim, mostly just to get a good slice in before he inevitably ran away.

So, the thing was, he didn’t get a good slice in. Instead, he felt the guy block the incoming knife and give him a hard shove backwards. Alastor barely had time to register that he was falling and twisted around to catch himself, only come face to face with a small pond. He cursed internally as he fell straight into the water and felt himself get completely submerged. He lost his grip on the knife in his rush to get back up to the surface.

Once he broke the surface, he grabbed onto the tufts of grass on the edge of the pond and pulled his upper body up, only to pause when he saw Lucifer stand right beside him, his back turned to him, still sipping to the coffee he’d bought. He was watching their target run away from them.

Alastor cleared his throat and held his hand out, expecting Lucifer to help him out of the pond. His husband switched hands on the cup and grabbed his hand without looking at him, continuing to stare after the human while sipping calmly to the coffee. Alastor thought he would pull him out, but the longer he waited, the more he realised Lucifer was just holding his hand. He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face and pushing his glasses back into place. He glared after his escaping victim and rested his head in the hand not currently holding onto Lucifer’s.

“We’re out of practice,” Lucifer muttered.

“Shut up,” Alastor grumbled.  

“Do you want to see me hit him with this?” Lucifer asked, finally looking down at him and wiggling the cardboard cup in his hand.

Alastor glared at him, before he glanced back at the retreating human. “Yeah, sure,” he said gruffly.

Lucifer grinned, pulled his arm back and threw the cup after the guy, letting it shoot through the air at an impossible speed. They could barely see the guy anymore, but they could hear the impact of the cup. It sounded like a shot being fired, and the guy went down. Alastor wasn’t entirely sure where Lucifer had hit, but with the speed he’d hit their victim with, he had a feeling he’d gotten injured enough that it would be easier to follow. Or he was dead.

“He’s probably just knocked out,” Lucifer said, placing his now-free hand on his hip.

“Probably,” Alastor scoffed before he looked at where their joined hands. “Are you just going to stand there and hold my hand, or are you going to help me out of this damned pond?” he asked.

Lucifer huffed. “I was wondering why you wanted to hold my hand so badly.”

“No, you weren’t,” Alastor argued, feeling Lucifer pull him out of the water easily and help him back onto his feet. Swamp water flowed down his legs, dripping down on the ground as he stood. “You knew exactly what you were doing,” he said.

“Possibly,” Lucifer said with another sly glint in his eye. “Oh, he’s back up.”

Alastor looked up at where their victim stumbled back on his feet and continued to run. He sighed, letting his shadow retrieve his knife from the bottom of the pond. It deposited it back in his hand. Alastor twirled it expertly before he started to walk after the guy, pulling Lucifer along with him.

“Do you want to fuck him a little?” Lucifer asked.

“Fuck with, you—okay,” Alastor cut himself off, turning to look at his husband. “What are you thinking?”

Lucifer grinned at him, his irises flashing red. “I was thinking of getting rid of some demonic energy,” he said. “Not much, just a couple of teleports here and there to mess with him.”

Alastor considered it before he looked down at his knife. “If I want to get back into this, I feel like I have to do it the good old way,” he muttered. “The human way.”

“Okay,” Lucifer said with a nod. “I’ll follow your lead, then.”

Alastor squeezed his hand once before letting him go, feeling the anger dwindle down and get changed out with anticipation as they moved a little faster. They didn’t know how long it would take before the guy got too tired to run and started to hide, instead, but Alastor didn’t mind. It felt nice to just get back into the stalking. He used the time to explore the powers that kept overwhelming him, getting them properly under control while he had time for it.

Lucifer followed him like a shadow the entire way, staying quiet and silent. Sometimes he felt him tap his shoulder and point at something, like when they passed the completely destroyed cup. Other than that, he just followed, moving silently enough that Alastor almost had to turn around to check that he was there.

He slowed to a stop when the heard the sound of breathing. He narrowed his eyes, looking around as he tried to locate the sound. Someone was breathing through their teeth. It sounded pained, Alastor thought as he felt his eyes land on a pretty big tree. He felt his smile widen as he nodded at Lucifer to help check it out.

Lucifer gave him a wild grin as he hurried past him and over to the tree. He lowered himself slightly as he moved, making his way around the trunk before he paused, straightened back up and fixed himself up a bit, before he stepped calmly around the rest of the trunk and out of sight.

Alastor could hear their victim yelp out a curse and scramble to his feet. He emerged from behind the tree and continued to sprint off into the night. Lucifer followed after him a moment later with his hands on his hips. He looked just as excited to be back as Alastor felt. His heart stuttered in his chest as he watched his husband’s calm expression.

Lucifer glanced at him. “I think I crushed his shoulder,” he said, making Alastor blink at him. “Ready to keep going?”

“Absolutely,” Alastor replied, but instead of following after their victim, he stepped right over to Lucifer, leaned down and placed a kiss to his forehead. He felt Lucifer’s hand land on his waist, a warmth spreading from the contact. He felt himself dry up from his little dip in the pond, and pulled away, taking in Lucifer’s mischievous smirk.

“Sorry for not helping you out, back there,” he said.

“I forgive you,” Alastor replied, grabbing the hand at his waist. Lucifer’s eyes widened a little when Alastor grinned and kissed his knuckles. He adjusted his grip on his husband’s hand and pulled him along after guy they were tracking.

Lucifer ended up walking beside him instead of behind him, this time. They continued to move silently as they followed the footprints. It didn’t take nearly as long to get to him, this time. They found him leaned against a tree, clutching his shoulder. Alastor paused, seeing the strange illumination coming from him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and Lucifer seemed to know what he’d seen.

“I forgot about phones,” he muttered. “Give me a moment, love.” Lucifer let go of Alastor’s hand and popped out of sight, before he reappeared right beside the guy. “I’ll take that,” he said, before he slammed the guy’s head against the tree trunk and grabbed the phone out of his hand. The guy got stunned for a good minute while Lucifer stepped away from him and fiddled with the phone. “Well, that’s not good,” he muttered.

The human seemed to get back to his senses, and in one swift move, he launched himself after the phone, only for Lucifer to twirl out of the way and slam a leg into his back, sending him sprawling onto the mossy ground.

“You should run,” Lucifer told the human, sounding a little distracted. “If you want to keep living for a while longer, that is.”

That seemed to do the trick, and the guy got back on his feet, unsteadily, before he hurried off through the trees. Alastor stepped up to Lucifer, seeing what he was working on.

“What did he do?”

“He sent a message to someone,” Lucifer grumbled. “I’m surprised he didn’t just call the police, to be honest.”

“What if he did?” Alastor asked, seeing Lucifer go out of the message app and into some list of numbers.

“What’s the emergency number?” Lucifer asked.

“There’s an emergency number?”

Lucifer gave him a look, before he shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered. “No one’s been called since earlier this evening. Looks like the same guy he texted.”

“What are we going to do about it?” Alastor asked, feeling his initial excitement dampen. He could still see the guy stagger through the terrain.

“Well, I’ll just make this phone unusable, and if something happens, we’ll deal with it,” Lucifer said as he made the screen flicker and go black. It looked like it started to steam, accompanied by a strange hiss. Lucifer crushed it in his hand for good measure, before he let it vanish out of existence. “Other than that, I’m good to keep going.”

Alastor hummed, grabbed Lucifer’s hand, again, before the two of them strolled after the guy. They could still see him, and Alastor decided it was probably time to end it. The cup had done enough damage to make it a short hunt, but that was okay. It didn’t change the fact that he was back in his bayou, actually hunting a human for the first time in almost a hundred years. He felt the same, enhanced bloodlust as before make his eyes glow green. His grin was wide and his teeth sharp as they got closer to the whining man in front of them.

“Hold him, will you, darling?” Alastor asked Lucifer, who gave him a wicked grin and hurried over to where the human was now sobbing. He couldn’t stop the deranged giggle that escaped him as he watched Lucifer grab the back of the man’s shirt and pull him backwards, letting him fall to the ground. He gripped his shoulders, making their victim scream, before he pulled him up and placed him on his back so he could watch Alastor approach. “Greetings,” he said.

“What the fuck!?” the human cried, trying to get out of Lucifer’s grip. Lucifer didn’t budge. “Get the fuck off of me!”

“Oh, I’ve missed this,” Alastor said as he stepped over to them. “The thrill of the hunt,” he continued as he crouched down in front of him. “The screams. The fear,” he sang. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

The human stared at him like he was crazy. “No, I don’t,” he spat.

“Oh, you do,” Lucifer murmured sweetly into his ear. “You know it so well.”

“You’re fucking insane!” the man yelled, struggling against Lucifer’s grip.

Alastor chortled darkly. “Not really,” he said, placing the tip of the blade under the man’s chin, making him stop struggling. “We just know you better than you think.”

“Fuck off,” the man sneered.

“Relax,” Lucifer huffed. “We’re just letting you avoid jail,” he said. The words hit their mark. The guy started to breathe faster. “That comes at a price, though.”

“You’re actually going to kill me?” he snarled.

“Yes,” Alastor told him pleasantly as he pushed the knife through his skin, creating a shallow cut. It made the man grunt in pain. “You can thank us later.”

And so, the bayou was filled with the echo of screams and cries as Alastor went to work. It had been so long that he’d been worried he wouldn’t remember his old art, but the more he cut, the more he felt like he was falling back into old habits. It didn’t take long before he felt himself get lost in it, like he usually did. That strange serenity and calm that washed over him made him hum a little tune as he carved off pieces of meat and propped them into his mouth. He heard Lucifer clear his throat, bringing him back out of that calm state.

Lucifer shook his head a little, and Alastor remembered that his own powers were fused with Lucifer’s at that moment, which meant he could very well end up accidentally empowering the guy he was killing. That wouldn’t do, so he refrained from actually singing, instead letting his internal radio fill his mind as he kept going. There were quite a few things he had to get used to after marrying the devil himself. One of them seemed to be not singing to dying humans just in case they ended up in the same state as him when they went to Hell. Stuck in a constant empowerment, and stronger than the other sinners.

Still, it wasn’t like Lucifer had given him more than a fraction of his actual powers, and he doubted that whatever empowerment he was able to give would be as strong as his husband’s. It would maybe be at the level of Lilith’s empowerments, and probably not even that. He hadn’t exactly had time to test it out, yet.

He made a mental note of trying to empower Rosie when he got back to Hell, just so he could see where he was on the empowerment scale, if he was on it at all. Chances were that he couldn’t empower a single soul, and if that was the case, he’d definitely go back to humming whenever he found himself hunting someone. Still, it should be fine as long as he didn’t sing to the victim, but rather himself or to Lucifer from what they knew about empowerment. Though, he also understood why Lucifer felt like being a bit extra careful until they knew for sure.

When their victim lost consciousness, Alastor slit his throat and stood up, his bloodthirst satiated. Lucifer let the body drop to the ground and stretched his arms above his head. Alastor could hear his spine crack from where he stood. He offered Lucifer his hand, and helped him back on his feet.

“Are we feeding the rest of him to the alligators?” Lucifer asked.

Alastor wasn’t really listening, seeing his husband covered in blood from top to bottom and grinning up at him like they were about to feed the pigeons in a park, somewhere. He ran his finger across the blood on the knife, before he reached over and drew a small smiley face on Lucifer’s t-shirt—in one of the spots that weren’t covered in red, already, of course.

Lucifer watched him do it, before he glanced back up at Alastor, eyes glimmering with amusement. Alastor used the knife to tilt Lucifer’s head up, before he leaned down and kissed him. He could feel Lucifer chortle against his lips, as well as his hand sliding up into his hair and curling into the strands at the back of his head. Alastor lowered his knife and let it vanish into his void, before cupping his husband’s chin, feeling the smooth skin under his fingers.

He did have a plan to push Lucifer into some water just to get some sort of revenge after not helping him out of the pond, but that would ruin the artwork that covered his husband. He could do it some other day when Lucifer least expected it, but at the moment, he didn’t have the heart.

He felt Lucifer trace his tongue across his lips, and it made Alastor pull him a little closer, deepening the kiss.

Making out with his husband beside a corpse with the two of them covered in blood felt just about perfect, in Alastor’s opinion. A great end to a great day.

He pulled back, humming gently as he let music spill out into reality. He placed his forehead against Lucifer’s, seeing how his partner stared at him intently. Anticipation, Alastor thought as he placed a chaste kiss to his husband’s nose. It made Lucifer giggle.

“Let’s get lost,” Alastor sang quietly, “lost in each other’s arms.” He felt Lucifer’s other arm snake around his waist. “Let’s get lost, let them send out alarms.” He started to sway to the soft violins echoing through the trees. Lucifer followed his lead as they moved across the forest floor. “And though they’ll think us rather rude, let’s tell the world we’re in that crazy mood.”

Lucifer snorted. Alastor kept going.

“Let’s defrost, in a romantic mist,”

“Let’s get crossed, off everybody’s list,”

“To celebrate the night we found each other,”

“Darling, let’s get lost.”

Lucifer was humming along at that point, letting himself be led around. They almost stumbled over the body, making the two of them snicker as they held onto each other to keep from falling. Lucifer pressed a kiss to Alastor’s jaw when they found their footing.

“Let’s get crossed, off everybody’s list,” Alastor repeated gently.

“To celebrate the night we found each other,” Lucifer sang back, just as softly, grinning up at him with that damned love only he could show him.

“Darling, let’s get lost,” they finished in unison.

Alastor gave Lucifer another kiss before he leaned back. He let the music keep playing in the background as they continued their little dance.

“I’ve missed this,” Lucifer admitted.

“I can tell,” Alastor replied quietly. “You look particularly stunning covered in blood.”

Lucifer scoffed, before his eyes widened. “Did you kiss me just to get me to taste human blood?”

“You ate blood pancakes made of human blood just this morning,” Alastor pointed out dryly. He grinned devilishly. “And you did seem to enjoy it quite a bit.” Both the kiss and the pancakes, actually, Alastor thought to himself.

“Damn it,” Lucifer muttered, making Alastor chuckle. “You’re a really bad influence on me, you know that, right?”

“Says the devil, himself,” Alastor retorted. “And yes, I am. I’m quite proud of it, too, if I’m being honest.”

“I’m sure you are,” Lucifer huffed, letting go of him. “Now, are we getting rid of this tripping hazard, or are we leaving him here to the birds?”

“The alligators might appreciate him more,” Alastor said as he grabbed the body by what was left of his shoulders, while Lucifer stepped over to his legs.

They lifted him up with ease and started moving over to the river running not too far away from where they were. When they got to the riverbed, they scanned the water for alligators. There were definitely a few of them hidden right below the surface, and Alastor nodded towards one of them. Lucifer nodded back in understanding, and the two of them tossed the body into the water. The alligator struck immediately, before it brought the body with it. Another couple of alligators followed the first one, grabbing onto the body and ripping it apart.

“It’s good to be back,” Alastor said, placing his hands on his hips. Lucifer mirrored his stance, nodding in agreement. “Though, it feels a bit surreal,” he admitted after a moment of silence.

“Well, you never thought you’d be able to go back,” Lucifer said, letting Alastor take his hand as they moved away from the shore and started making their way back to where they’d moored the boat.

“You didn’t, either,” Alastor pointed out.

“Yeah, but at some point, I might’ve been able to sneak back.” He sighed, glancing up at Alastor. “If the war hadn’t happened now, then it would’ve happened in the future. It was inevitable, I think. Especially while Sera and Michael were in charge.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, now, does it?” Alastor asked. “We stopped it before they destroyed our realm, and we’re able to walk around on Earth without someone trying to kick us out. I’d say that’s more important than wondering what would happen if we didn’t make it.”

“It is,” Lucifer agreed. “It just makes me appreciate you even more, I think. The thought of not having you beside me…” he fell silent, swallowing thickly. “I’m just grateful to have you here, and to be able to bring you back to where we met and wherever else I’d like to show you someday. We could explore the entire Earth, and we probably will, you know? Not within the first year, but some day in the distant future, we’ve probably mapped out this entire planet.” He smiled. “I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone other than you.”

“I’ll be looking forward to our future adventures, then,” Alastor muttered, mind filling with images of the two of them in different parts of the world, most likely killing people along the way.

Lucifer beamed at him as they kept walking through the bayou.

It didn’t take them too long to find the boat. Alastor got in and caught the keys Lucifer tossed at him, before he turned the motor back on. He moved back over to the bow and gave Lucifer a hand after his husband had untied the line, and helped him into the boat. Lucifer settled down on the bow seat again, while Alastor moved back to the motor and put it in gear. They moved silently down the river, Lucifer leaning back and looking up at the stars above.

“There’s another thing I want to show you someday,” Lucifer said after a while.

“The stars?” Alastor asked.

“Yeah,” Lucifer replied. “One day.” He looked over at Alastor with a soft smile on his lips. “If you’re up for it.”

“I don’t think I’d mind,” Alastor said, glancing up at the twinkling stars above. It looked like it would be a nice day the next day, too. Still, the thought of being up there in space, flying around on a guided tour made him feel incredibly small for some reason. An awe filled him at the thought of exploring a place he’d never thought he’d be able to see. A place no one thought they would be able to see until long after his death.

They continued the ride in silence, both having a lot to think about, it seemed. Lucifer looked lost in the stars, and Alastor was still trying to wrap his mind around everything from his relationship, to being back on Earth, to being the Prince Consort of Hell of all things, and yeah, it would take some time until he let himself accept that it was reality and not some strange dream he could wake up from at any moment.

Alastor got the line in the back ready as they got to the small dock by the house. Lucifer picked up the one at the bow and jumped out of the boat, securing it in the front while Alastor tied the line in the back and turned off the engine. He let Lucifer pull him back on land, and the two of them made their way up to the house. Alastor unlocked the door and let Lucifer step inside, first, before his husband hurried off to the bedroom and grabbed the bottle of champagne that Stolas had given them. Alastor went into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of champagne glasses, before he went back to Lucifer, who’d slumped down on the couch and was opening the bottle while he waited for him to join him.

Alastor sat down beside him, chuckling when Lucifer popped the cork and filled their glasses. He placed the bottle on the table in front of them, and Alastor let his shadow stretch out to turn on some music on the gramophone. A crackling melody filled the room as Alastor took the glass Lucifer was handing him. He held it up, letting Lucifer clink their glasses together.

“To us,” he said.

“And to the first day of the rest of our existence,” Lucifer said.

They took a sip. Lucifer spawned a couple of candles on the table to make it a little extra cozy.

They spent the rest of the night planning the next day, knowing they would end up going back into the city. They had a restaurant to visit, and more places to explore, of course. Alastor felt himself start drifting off some time in the early morning, which ended up with the two of them migrating to the bedroom. It had been a long day, and the next would be just as filled with things they wanted to check out and do.

Lucifer got rid of the blood, and soon enough, the two of them were snuggled up in bed and out like lights.

Alastor started out with his regular dream of falling, but this time, he felt himself fly among the stars. He smiled in his sleep. 

I had to draw it XD

Chapter Text

“Oh, look!” Lucifer exclaimed, pulling Alastor with him into yet another shop. He could hear him grumble behind him, but he didn’t care. He’d spotted the best of what New Orleans had to offer.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alastor huffed.

“No, I’m getting it,” Lucifer said. “Look at it!”

“I am.”

“You’re clearly not appreciating the craftmanship,” Lucifer said as he picked up the rubber duck with the most adorable, fucked up design Lucifer had ever seen.  Well, he’d made worse, but at least it was cute. A voodoo doll rubber duck full of needles. He should’ve thought of that himself. Humans and their imagination. Damn.

“It’s clearly mass-produced, you moron,” Alastor replied, picking it out of his hand to look at it more thoroughly. “Made in China,” he read out, and handed it back to him.

“I’m still getting it,” Lucifer stated, hurrying over towards the guy behind the counter, before he got caught up in a pile of other rubber ducks with various designs.

“You could just make your own,” Alastor said as he walked over to a bunch of costumes hanging on the walls. “They’d be infinitely better than this shit.”

“I could give them as souvenirs to the others,” Lucifer said, pretending to not have heard him as he picked up a few other ducks that he thought would fit for the rest of them. “I mean, I feel like we need to give them something from Earth, at the very least. They deserve it.” He looked over to where Alastor was wrinkling his nose at the sight of a serial killer costume. “I’m sure your mother would love to get something from New Orleans, right?”

Alastor actually seemed to think about it, before he sighed. “Fine, but not from this shop,” he grumbled, flicking his finger at a hockey mask hard enough to break the plastic. “Come along,” he said, grabbing Lucifer’s arm and pulling him towards the exit.

“What about the ducks?” Lucifer asked, trying not to drop the ones he was holding. It was a bit difficult when Alastor was tugging at his arm, but he was managing well enough. “I can’t just bring them out of the—”

Alastor let the ducks fall into his void. “Now, let’s go.”

Lucifer glanced at the vendor who had his nose too far into a comic book to actually notice them. He didn’t even look up when the two of them left the store. Lucifer gave Alastor an unimpressed glance before he got his sunglasses back out of where they’d been hanging off the collar of his t-shirt and put them on.

“I’m surprised you’d actually steal them,” he said.

“Well, I certainly won’t let you pay for something not worth the money,” Alastor retorted. “And besides, how is this worse than my other crimes?”

“You’ve got a point,” Lucifer admitted as he grabbed onto Alastor’s offered arm.

The two of them had stayed in the house for most of the morning, Alastor joining Lucifer in making breakfast—well, brunch, technically. They’d slept in after going to bed late at night after their little excursion. Lucifer definitely didn’t mind, enjoying the lazy morning. They’d left in the afternoon, and had ended walking around some of the other districts that they hadn’t had the time to explore the day before. They wanted to go to their restaurant in the evening, which was how they ended up killing time by going through a bunch of different shops and checking out the merchandise. The ducks had been the first thing they found that was actually of interest. Lucifer’s, at least.

“What about an antique shop?” Lucifer suggested while they strolled through the streets. They passed by a park. Alastor looked like he was miles away as he stared at the gates to the park, before he turned them around. Lucifer let himself be pulled along through the gates, wondering what made him want to enter it. Maybe it had been another special place Alastor frequented while he was still human? Lucifer had enjoyed all the other spots he’d gotten to see. Especially the university given its significance to what had made Alastor end up as the Radio Demon. “I mean, there might be some of your things in there, right?”

“I’d say it’s pretty unlikely,” Alastor muttered, looking around with a slight furrow to his brow. Lucifer glanced around, trying to figure out what they were doing in there. Clearly not just taking a nice, little walk. “But it’s probably the best option if I want to find anything worth gifting.”

“It would be fun if we found something of yours, though,” Lucifer said as Alastor started leading him down another, slightly more uneven path away from the main one. The trees blocked out most of the view of the rest of the park, but it looked quite idyllic, anyway. Private in a sense. “There’s got to be some things left to…find.”

He trailed off as the trees spread out a bit more, revealing a lagoon. A park bench stood down by the water.

“Fucking hell, Al,” Lucifer breathed as he felt Alastor pull him towards the water. It was filled with ducks, as well as a few swans and geese.

“Better than the rubber ones, aren’t they?” Alastor asked as they got closer. Lucifer hadn’t seen a real duck for such a long time, and just hearing the gentle quacks almost made him tear up. It took all his willpower not to rush over to say hi.

Alastor led him over to the bench and sat down, before he spawned a package of frozen peas. He handed it silently to Lucifer, who couldn’t stop staring at him.

“You,” he said, because he couldn’t say anything else.

“Yes?” Alastor said with such a smug grin that Lucifer gave him the finger as he turned to the ducks and the other fowl in the lagoon. His husband’s smile only widened at the reaction.

“I hate you,” Lucifer said gruffly as he opened the bag of peas. The birds stared at them with interest. Some of them started moving closer, and Lucifer felt his heart melt at the sight of their curious eyes. “Hello,” he greeted them sweetly as he sat down in the grass with his legs crossed. A few ducks greeted him back, and he couldn’t keep the grin off of his face as he tossed a few peas into the water.

The ducks immediately swam over to them, bills splashing as they ate the food. It gained the attention of the rest of the birds, and soon enough he was getting swarmed by them all. He giggled as a few ducks got out of the water and stepped over to him, trying to get to the bag. He let them eat out of his hand. His eyes landed on some fuzzy shapes following after one of the ducks.

“Al!” Lucifer squeaked, pointing excitedly at the ducklings. “Look!”

“I see them,” Alastor told him calmly from where he sat, one leg crossed over the other as he watched Lucifer and the birds.

“Hi, there,” Lucifer said, voice high pitched as he put his hand down and let one of the ducklings take a pea. Another couple came waddling over. “Can I hold you?” he asked quietly to one of them. “You’re the most adorable things in the universe.” The duckling stepped into his hand, and he had to stop himself from squealing at the feeling of cold, webbed feet against his skin. He brought it up to his face. “Thank you,” he whispered ecstatically, cupping his hands under it so it could lay down. “I wish I could keep you,” he muttered, pushing the duckling a little sideways so it was laying in one hand, instead. He picked up a couple of peas and offered them to the tiny creature. “But animals don’t go to Hell, I’m afraid,” he told it.

“Do we have Hellducks?” Alastor asked from the bench.

“No,” Lucifer replied dejectedly. “I don’t think you’d like to stay at the palace if we did.” He could hear Alastor hum in agreement. He turned back to the duckling. “Thank you for letting me hold you,” he said as he carefully let it back down on the grass. It jumped off, chirping as it got back to its mother. Lucifer made sure to give her some extra peas just to thank her for not attacking him.

A couple of geese came strolling over to him, too. He giggled as they tried to get to the bag.

“You’ll get some if you don’t swarm me,” he told them, and the geese took a couple of steps back. “There you go,” he said, giving them a handful each. He breathed deeply and let it out slowly, enjoying the feeling of the sun warming his skin and listening to the birds chattering around him. He turned around to grin at Alastor. “Do you want to say hi?” he asked.

“No,” Alastor said curtly.

“Not even to the ducklings?” Lucifer pressed, tilting his head. “There’s a really nice one over here,” he said, pointing at the one he’d just been holding.

“I’m good,” Alastor replied. “You have fun.”

Lucifer turned to the mother duck. “He’s just a bit shy. He’s not used to cute things,” he told her. “Do you think I can introduce one of your kids to him?”

“There’s no need for that,” Alastor said.

Lucifer ignored him. “He’s being polite,” he told the duck. One of the ducklings stepped up to him. “Oh, a brave soul has offered to meet the deer!” Lucifer exclaimed happily, letting the little duckling step into his hand and settle down. He gave it a pea before he got up from his spot on the ground, careful so he didn’t end up stepping on any of the birds. They followed after him as he went over to the bench. “Hey,” Lucifer said to Alastor, who just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Hi,” Alastor said back.

The duckling squeaked in greeting, making Lucifer feel like he was dying of just pure love for the little creature.

“Hold your hands out,” Lucifer told Alastor.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh, come on,” Lucifer huffed as he sat down beside his husband. “Just hold it for a second. It’s really soft.”

“No, thanks.”

“It won’t bite,” Lucifer said.

Alastor stared at him incredulously. “You really think I’m afraid of it biting me?”

“Why else wouldn’t you want to hold it?” Lucifer asked. “Unless it’s because you’re afraid of it changing your view on cute things. I mean, it’s definitely a possibility, but hey? It could be worth it?”

“Would it make you happy if I held it?” Alastor asked hesitantly.

“I would be even happier if I could take a picture of you holding it,” Lucifer admitted. “But I won’t. If you hold it, I promise it stays between us.”

Alastor sighed and held his hands out. Lucifer beamed at him and let the duckling stomp over to Alastor and settle down. It snuggled into his hands, and Lucifer tried to save the image of his husband holding a tiny fluffball to his memory. He really wanted to take a picture just so he could keep it in his wallet or on his desk. Lucifer handed the little duckling a pea, before he turned back to the other birds that had ended up standing around, waiting for him to drop more snacks.

He continued to feed them, keeping an eye on Alastor in his peripheral. His partner had settled his hands in his lap and was petting the tiny bird gently with his thumb. Lucifer didn’t point it out, instead focusing back on the rest of them.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Lucifer said softly after a moment of silence. He watched the swans come strolling gracefully after the rest of the birds. He tossed some peas over to them, too.

“I thought you’d enjoy it,” Alastor said quietly. Lucifer glanced at him, before his gaze fell to the duckling still cradled in his hands. It had fallen asleep. “I didn’t come here too often, but every once in a while, I stopped by. It’s not as crowded as the other places people normally feed the ducks.”

“It’s amazing,” Lucifer muttered. “Really.”

“It’s not so bad,” Alastor replied, running his thumb over the duckling’s back when it let out a small squeak. Lucifer felt his heart swell at the sight. He didn’t comment on it, though, afraid Alastor would end up handing him the duckling back.

“It’s perfect, actually,” Lucifer said, smiling at him.

Alastor didn’t answer. It made him huff as he turned back to the birds. They were still staring at him with anticipation. A few of them let out a couple of quacks. The swans stepped a little closer. They were quite polite where they stood behind the rest, bending their necks shyly as they waited for him to give them more peas. He poured some into his hand and handed them over to the swans, who stretched over the rest of the birds to pick the food out of his hand.

“This is a really big bag of peas,” he muttered. It didn’t feel like it had gotten any emptier, and he was pretty sure he’d given the birds more than whatever could be kept in the bag.

“It’s bottomless,” Alastor said.

Lucifer turned to look at him. “Did you create it?”

Alastor nodded. The duckling in his hands woke up, and Lucifer reached over to give it another pea. It yawned, before it took the treat and got up. It turned around a bit, only to settle back down. It curled up with its head under its wing, and Lucifer supressed the urge to coo at it. At both the duckling and his husband if he was being completely honest.

“Hmm,” Lucifer said, getting Alastor’s attention. “How do you think the water is?”

“You’re not actually going for a swim, are you?” Alastor questioned.

Lucifer got up from his seat and looked around to make sure no one were watching them before he used his powers to shapeshift into a duck. The birds stared at him in astonishment. Alastor stared at him with something more akin to annoyance. Lucifer winked at him before he waddled over to the water and stepped into it. The other birds followed after him, except the mother duck and the ducklings who stayed right by Alastor’s side.

Lucifer swam farther out onto the lake, enjoying the warm water as he paddled around. The other birds continued to follow him around as he explored the lagoon. He dove down under the surface just to bob right back up because of the air trapped under his feathers. He shook off the water as he looked around, seeing quite a few people by another part of the lake. It probably wasn’t a great idea to go over to them, so he stayed close enough for Alastor to see him as he continued to swim.

He didn’t stay there for too long, knowing they had a restaurant to get to. The fact that Alastor had brought him there still made his heart feel extra warm, though. He had no idea how someone could be so terrible with emotional things, yet so incredibly sweet and thoughtful at the same time. He wouldn’t mention it to Alastor, of course, but the appreciation and love he felt for him kept growing for every moment they spent together. No matter what they did.

He watched as Alastor brought the duckling up to his face and muttered something to it, waking it up. A moment later, he smiled gently before he picked up a pea from the bag and gave it to the bird, and placed it back together with the rest of its family. He got up from his seat on the bench and got the bag, before he let it vanish into his void. He waited patiently for Lucifer to return.

The mother duck chattered to him as he passed her and the rest of the ducklings, telling him he’d found a good one. Lucifer agreed as he heard the duckling Alastor had been holding squeaked and chirped about how cool the scary human was, much to the annoyance of his siblings. Lucifer went over to Alastor and changed back into his more human form, putting his sunglasses back on.

“Refreshing?” Alastor asked as he offered him his arm.

“Absolutely delightful,” Lucifer said, looping his arm around his before they started to move towards the path, again. “The duckling thought you were cool, btw.”

“Yes, he told me,” Alastor admitted. “You weren’t kidding when you said I would be able to understand them.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Though, I thought it wouldn’t feel like an instinct.”

“You thought they would just suddenly start speaking English?” Lucifer asked.

“No, I don’t know,” Alastor huffed. “I just thought I would hear it as words, not actually just feel their intentions.”

“It’s really strange in the beginning, I can imagine,” Lucifer said as they moved back between the trees. He glanced around. “Do you think we can come back here before we go back to Hell?”

“When are we leaving?”

Lucifer shrugged. “We still have that meeting with Heaven about the opening of the portals, and I know it’s something we have to do before it becomes more chaotic than it already is.” He sighed. “I’m sure there’s quite a few things we have to take care of and change about it.”

“Are you thinking of going back tomorrow, then?” Alastor asked as they made it back out onto the main path.

“Tomorrow evening, maybe,” Lucifer muttered. “Then we could have the meeting the day after. I don’t know. I could always call Charlie and ask her how it’s going.”

He had sent her a few texts during their stay, just to say that everything was going well and that they were having a great time. He’d even sent her a couple of pictures of the house and of the boat. Alastor had agreed to a picture, too, surprisingly enough. She hadn’t told him anything about the state of Hell, though, which was either really concerning, or relieving, depending on if his daughter would actually tell him if something wasn’t going too great or not, or if she wanted to try and fix it herself.

Lucifer landed on concerning and fished his phone out from his pocket. He found Charlie’s number and hesitated. He could just call her and ask her how she was doing, but it felt like it would come off as him not trusting her with the responsibilities of ruling Hell while he was out of town.

“Leave her be,” Alastor said. “She’s doing fine, I’m sure.”

“I know she is,” Lucifer muttered, deciding to send her a text instead. He wrote to her that they would be back the next evening and that he hoped everything was going well, before he closed his phone and placed it back in his pocket. “I just worry, you know? What if something happens and I can’t get there in time?”

“She can take care of herself,” Alastor assured him. “She’s pretty good at fighting.”

“I wish she didn’t have to be,” Lucifer said.

“Well, she is, and she’ll only get better. I think it’s great that she doesn’t let everyone step all over her, anymore.” Alastor stated with a pleasant smile on his lips, like he was especially proud of that fact. “I’ve been there since the beginning of the hotel. She’s gained a lot of respect these last few years that I don’t think she would’ve gotten if it weren’t for her stepping up like she has. She’s doing great on her own.”

“You’re right,” Lucifer said. “Of course you are.” He walked a little closer to him. “But that doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“I don’t think parents are capable of not always being slightly concerned for their spawn,” Alastor scoffed. “Except those who probably shouldn’t be parents in the first place,” he added quietly. Lucifer had a feeling he was talking from experience, but he didn’t push. He didn’t want to make him shut him out if he tried.

Instead, he said, “Even if some don’t care much about their children, others might. The family you choose is better, was it?” Alastor seemed to recognise his own words being used against him if the eye-roll was any indication. It made Lucifer snicker.

They walked out of the park and headed for the restaurant. The sun was still out and about, but moving steadily towards the horizon. It would start getting dark in a few hours, Lucifer thought as they made their way across the street and down an alley. He hoped the sky would stay clear of clouds so he could keep looking at the stars when they came out. He’d really missed those shimmering, little lights, and he wanted to be able to see them as much as he could while they were there. He wondered if the two of them could go stargazing that evening. Maybe bring that bottle of wine they got from Stolas into the bayou and find a nice spot. A midnight picnic felt like a fun idea.

They turned the last corner and saw the restaurant. It still didn’t look too busy, but Lucifer thought it was still early for a dinner, anyway. They wanted to spend some time there, that evening, so they’d decided to get there before the worst rush.

Alastor opened the door for him, and Lucifer stepped inside, feeling like he’d gone back in time. It looked incredibly similar to what it had looked like back in the 30s. Alastor walked up behind him and glanced around, a grin spreading across his cheeks.

The stage still looked the same with a piano and instruments ready to be used. There were a few people on it getting ready to play. Other than that, the restaurant was mostly empty. A couple sat in the far corner, and a young woman stood behind the counter. She smiled at them when she noticed them.

“Welcome,” she said kindly as she stepped around the counter and picked up a couple of menus. “Table for two?”

“Yes,” Lucifer confirmed with a nod. “We actually have a favourite spot if you don’t mind?”

She blinked at him. “Oh,” she said. “You do?” She glanced between them, her smile turning strained. “I don’t remember seeing you here before.”

“It’s been a long time,” Alastor said casually, still looking around.

“Do you own the place?” Lucifer asked her.

“Yeah, it’s been in my family for generations,” she said. “The restaurant has been around since the end of nineteenth century. It was supposedly quite popular with some of the locals, here, back in the day, but not so much anymore,” she told them. “There’ve been so many new restaurants popping up all over New Orleans. Nowadays, it’s mostly the older generations that come here, but even they tend to go elsewhere.”

“What a shame,” Lucifer muttered. “We always found this place quite special.”

“Well, if I don’t get more customers, soon, I might have to close it down. I’ve been forced to keep it closed most days because I don’t have enough money to run it through the week.”

Lucifer almost gave her a suitcase filled with as much money as she needed to keep it going for the rest of her life, and for generations to come, but he knew that would be a bit too weird. He decided he could curse it, too, but that also felt a bit wrong. The best thing would be to get more people to go there.

“Are you working on the side, then?” Alastor asked.

She nodded. “I have no other choice if I want to keep it. It’s a special place for me, too. I grew up with it.”

“So, if you could choose, you’d work in the restaurant, fulltime?” Lucifer asked.

“Of course!” she said. “I love it, but without the customers, I don’t know how long it’s going to last before I’d have to sell it. Worst case would be if it ends up in the hands of the family that owns all those tourist shops around here. They wouldn’t let this place stay like it is.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucifer assured her. “I think it’s going to get more popular pretty soon.” He’d promised Alastor that he wouldn’t let the restaurant be turned into some damned tourist shop, and he’d keep that promise, no matter what.

“Uhm, okay?” She glanced between them, again, before she grimaced. “Shit, sorry. You didn’t come here for a sob story. Where was that table you wanted?”

Lucifer smiled at her before he nodded for her to follow them to a secluded table a little farther into the room. He sat down on the bench while Alastor took the chair. She grinned as she placed the menus down in front of them.

“Excellent choice,” she said, a strange look in her eye that Lucifer couldn’t decipher. “Just yell for me whenever you’ve decided what you want. The band should start playing in not too long.”

They thanked her and picked up the menus. Lucifer flipped through the pages, trying to figure out what he wanted. He could feel the owner glance at them every few minutes. He wondered if it was because she was waiting for them to find something they wanted, or if there was some other reason for it. Alastor seemed to pick up on it, too.

“So,” Alastor muttered. “What are you planning to do to save this place?

“Everything I can, to be honest,” Lucifer replied. “I just don’t think she’ll feel like she can keep it without the customers, though. I could give her a billion dollars and she’d still most likely feel like she would have to sell it just because it’s not popular enough.” He glanced at her over the edge of his menu. She’d ended up staring emptily into the air while she waited for them.

“Popularity, then?” Alastor asked.

“Do you want to help me out?” Lucifer grinned.

“What do you have in mind?”

“A good mix of two great performers and some demonic influence should be enough for the time being, I’d say,” Lucifer stated, seeing his husband smirk.

“That can be arranged,” he replied. “After dinner, though. I’m starving.”

Lucifer chuckled as he turned his attention back to the menu and found himself something he’d like to try. The dishes looked like they were mostly the same, but some additions had been added or removed since they were there last. He asked Alastor if he’d decided on what he wanted, before he whistled for the owner, who seemed to startle out of her distant state. She twirled around to look at them, before she hurried over and picked out her notepad.

“Have you decided on what you want, gentlemen?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said before he told her their orders. She wrote it down quickly and was off to the kitchen. She returned to them with two glasses and a bottle of wine a moment later. “Sorry, can I ask you something?” Lucifer asked her once she was done pouring the wine.

“Sure,” she said as she placed the bottle down on the table. “What’s up?”

“I just wondered if you could tell us a bit more about the restaurant,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “You said it’s been here for generations, right?”

“Oh,” she said. “Yeah. Well, I don’t know how much there is to tell, to be honest. My great-great grandparents got it up and running. My family has tried to keep it as close to what it looked like in the beginning, only making sure to upgrade the electicity and such to keep it from burning down by accident.” She glanced at the stage where the small group was still setting up. “We upgraded the sound system a few years ago, too, hoping it would get us more customers, but nope.”

“What about the piano?” Lucifer asked, feeling Alastor stare at him.

“It’s been here since the beginning,” she said. “It’s the heart and soul of this place. We’ve been getting it tuned and fixed up every six months or so. It’s old, but it has its charm.” She smiled at them. “I’m sure you’ve heard it in action if you’ve been here before.”

“You could say that,” Lucifer replied, meeting Alastor’s eyes. His partner looked like he was seconds away from sneaking off in his shadow to go check it out. Lucifer turned back to the owner. “Would you mind if we go check it out while we wait?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Just don’t disturb the band. They’re the only ones willing to play, here,” she muttered before she smiled at them and went back behind the counter.

“Go on,” Lucifer said to Alastor, who was out of his chair before he was done talking. Lucifer got up from his seat and went after him. He greeted the band, who looked a little confused about the two of them being on stage. “Sorry, we’re just checking out the piano,” Lucifer told them before he moved over to where Alastor was looking at the instrument he’d learned to play on. He had to admit it was quite fun seeing the old thing again.

Alastor ran a hand over the keys and played a couple of chords. Lucifer recognised it as the first song they’d ever played together, just slower.

“I hear music when I look at you,” Lucifer sang quietly, making Alastor chuckle as he kept playing. The band gave them some curious glances. Lucifer didn’t really care. “A beautiful theme of every dream I ever knew,” he continued.

Alastor stared up at him. “Deep down in my heart, I hear it play,” he sang, taking over for Lucifer. It made Lucifer’s heart speed up a little. “I feel it start, and then melt away.”

The two of them started snickering. Alastor stopped playing, turning back to inspect the piano. He got up from his seat and moved around it. Lucifer watched him for a moment before he looked at the band members. The five of them immediately looked away from them like they hadn’t just been staring. The saxophone player cleared his throat awkwardly.

“We’ll leave you alone in a moment,” Lucifer said apologetically. “We’re just reliving the past a bit.”

The bassist smiled at them. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You’ve got some insane vocals.”

“Thank you!” Lucifer grinned at the compliment.

“He’s gifted with the voice of an angel,” Alastor piped in. Lucifer could hear the underlying irritation of that statement. However, for someone who didn’t know he meant it literally, it just sounded like someone who adored their partner’s voice.

“You’re both really good,” the bassist said as she got her contrabass up and started tuning it. “Really.”

Alastor looked like he definitely didn’t mind the praise. “Well, we both do enjoy a good song every now and then,” he said as he stepped over to Lucifer. “He’s more artistically gifted with that damned voice of his, but we can both put on quite a show, can’t we darling?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely,” Lucifer agreed. He glanced over to their table, seeing the owner of the restaurant grin at them and place down their plates. “Woops, seems like our food is ready,” he said as he made his way back off of the stage. “Nice meeting you,” he said over his shoulder.

Alastor gave them a grin before he followed Lucifer.

“Nice people,” Lucifer said as he sat back down on the bench seat. He took a sip of his wine, once again wishing it was just a little bit stronger.

“I still can’t believe they managed to keep the piano in such good condition,” Alastor muttered as he took bite of his steak. “It’s truly a nice instrument. Well-crafted.”

“Everything was made to last back then, wasn’t it?” Lucifer asked.

“Of course,” Alastor huffed. “None of this new and mass-produced shit that breaks after a day. The world has truly lost all sense and meaning. Back then you bought quality. Now ‘quality’ seems to last about a day more than whatever cheap thing you buy. Such a sad development, I must say.”

“There has to be some people left that wants to make quality items, right? Instruments, for sure,” Lucifer pondered while cutting off a piece of the fish he’d ordered. “

“Most likely some mass-produced versions of those, now, too,” Alastor replied. “Technology hasn’t been kind to the crafts. Everything is about money, not too much about creation in itself.”

“Sad, indeed,” Lucifer said.

A few more people entered the restaurant, but even though it started getting late and people would be looking around for somewhere to eat, it never filled up. Lucifer would’ve thought there’d be at least a few tourists that wanted to check out a more local spot, but apparently, they were trapped in the more popular places. It was a shame, really.

The band started playing not too much later, and Lucifer once again felt like he’d ended up going back in time. If he didn’t think about the way the rest of the guests were all wearing much more modern clothes, he’d probably have thought he’d ended up in a bubble forgotten by time itself. It felt magical in a way that couldn’t be explained properly by words. A different type of magic that could only be achieved by a century going by.

He sipped to his wine as he swayed a little to the music. “You know,” he said after a moment. “I think I would feel a little bad if I gave them food poisoning this time.”

“So, you did make them sick, last time?” Alastor retorted, before he paused. “Well, I knew it when I figured out who you are, but really. I couldn’t tell for sure at the time.”

“Well, I wanted to hear you play,” Lucifer said with a cheeky grin. “We couldn’t exactly take the stage without them gone, now, could we?”

“I guess not,” Alastor muttered.

“I still want to sing, tonight, though.” Lucifer looked over to the stage. The band didn’t have a singer, which made it easier to fit them in without giving some of them a sudden upset stomach. He glanced at Alastor. “So,” he said, smirking. “Do you sing?”

Alastor smirked back. “I do.”

Lucifer grinned devilishly. He looked at the bassist, seeing her frown a little before her eyes went to the two microphones placed on the side of the stage. She then turned to look at him, and a moment later, she nodded at him as if to get him to join them on stage. Lucifer nodded back, before he got up and held his hand out for Alastor to take. Alastor did, letting Lucifer guide him over to the stage. They jogged up the stairs.

“Do you mind if we join you?” Lucifer asked the band, making the bassist grin. The other band members looked a lot more confused and a little apprehensive, much like what had happened the last time Lucifer was there, but it didn’t take long before they gestured for them to join them.

Alastor glanced at the pianist, and Lucifer had a feeling he’d like to play the piano, again. However, Lucifer wanted him singing with him, this time, so he pulled out the two vintage-looking microphones that he realised was actually pretty new, but just had that vintage look, and shoved one of them into Alastor’s hands. His husband grabbed it and adjusted it expertly so it fit his height. Lucifer did the same, making his slightly shorter, earning himself an amused glance from Alastor. He poked his tongue out at him, making him snicker.

The people in the restaurant stared at them with various amounts of confusion. Some even looked a little annoyed by the fact that they’d just gone straight up on stage and clearly intended to sing. Well, Lucifer guessed it was quite weird when people weren’t used to it. In Hell, the spontaneous singing was just a part of life. Well, afterlife. It depended on the demon, technically.

Anyway, Lucifer couldn’t care less about the audience. He was there to enjoy a song with his husband, and that was what he was going to do. He had a feeling the people in the restaurant wouldn’t mind too much when they actually got going.

Lucifer gave Alastor a gentle look. “Birds flying high, you know how I feel,” he sang and the restaurant went completely silent. “Sun in the sky, you know how I feel.” Alastor grinned at him. “Breeze driftin’ on by, you know how I feel.” He grabbed onto the microphone stand and watched as the eyes of the other people in the room glued themselves to him. “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life—” The bassist came in with a deep note, and he knew the rest of them had caught on. “—for me.” He paused, grinning to him self as he felt the music around him go quiet again. “And I’m feeling good.”

The music surged around them, and Lucifer couldn’t help but chuckle at the way the audience seemed to get hooked. “I’m feeling good,” he drawled, listening to the melody play around him.

“Fish in the sea,” Alastor took over when the music lulled. “You know how I feel.” He stepped closer to Lucifer, bringing the microphone with him. “River running free, you know how I feel.” He walked past Lucifer to his other side, leaning into his space with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “Blossom on a tree, you know how I feel.” Lucifer wanted to say that he did, but he couldn’t get himself to interrupt. “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me.” Alastor placed a finger under Lucifer’s chin to tilt his head up. “And I’m feeling good.”

Lucifer giggled when Alastor poked his nose and leaned back out of his personal space.

“Dragonfly out in the sun,” Lucifer sang. “You know what I mean, don’t you know.”

“Butterflies all havin’ fun,” Alastor shot back. “You know what I mean.”

“Sleep in peace when the day is done, that’s what I mean,” Lucifer took over, again, really wanting to pull his husband into a dance.

“And this old world,” Alastor sang.

“Is the new world,” Lucifer sang.

“And a bold world,” Alastor ended the back-and-forth between them.

“For me,” they sang in unison before Lucifer belted it out once more.

He grabbed Alastor and brought him into a dance while the music continued to play. They left their microphones behind, spinning around on stage. Lucifer watched as more people entered the restaurant through the corner of his eye. He had to admit it felt a bit like cheating using his demonic powers to make the music louder on the outside, while also turning his temptation up to max just to get people to want to go there, but they needed the customers, and Lucifer knew the end result would be the same either way. It was a nice place, and not too many people knew about it.

He saw someone bring out their phone to film, much like they’d done on the boat, but this time he let them. He saw Alastor grimace a bit at being filmed, but he seemed to come to the same conclusion that they needed to spread the word, somehow. So, to distract him, Lucifer brought him back to the microphones.

“Stars when you shine, you know how I feel,” he sang, focusing all his attention on Alastor.

Alastor took the hint. “Scent of the pine, you know how I feel,” he sang back, once again starting that back-and-forth between them.

“Oh, freedom is mine,” Lucifer belted out, closing his eyes for a moment, before he glanced at his husband, again. “And you know how I feel.”

Alastor leaned closer. “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life.”

Lucifer grinned, doing the same as the melody started to build. “It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life.”

“It’s a new dawn!” they sang. “It’s a new day! It’s a new life! It’s a new life, for me!” They leaned their backs against each other. Lucifer felt the energy around them surge as they reached the peak of their performance. “And I’m feeling good!” They heard the audience whoop as the song calmed down again, and Lucifer opened his eyes to see that the restaurant was almost filled up. Most of the people were just watching them and filming, but it seemed like a lot of them were also just waiting for the owner to get them a table.

“I’m feeling good,” Lucifer sang as he leaned heavier against Alastor, feeling his husband meet him. “I feel so good,” he continued, glancing over his shoulder and seeing Alastor’s eyes locked onto him. “I feel so good,” he finished with the most devilish grin he could muster. Alastor grinned back just as evilly, clearly having fun as he leaned around and pressed a kiss to Lucifer’s temple. Lucifer laughed as the music faded out, and the restaurant guests started to applaud.

Lucifer gave them a short bow, before he winked at the band members who looked like they were having the time of their lives. They were all grinning from ear to ear as they glanced at each other, starting up another song. Lucifer saw the owner giving him another one of those looks he couldn’t quite decipher, but he was brought out of his thoughts by feeling Alastor nudge him.

He turned to look at him, and heard him humming to the music. It distracted Lucifer enough to forget about the strange looks he got, and he let his husband take his hand and twirl him into a small dip, before he helped him back on his feet. It made Lucifer grin wildly as he listened to Alastor’s song to him. He felt like he was getting mesmerized as he heard his voice fill the air around him and let himself be pulled around on stage. Alastor even let his voice crackle every now and again just to emphasize moments in the song, much to the audience and band’s astonishment, and his own amusement.

It was the start of a great evening. The owner only came over, once, to ask if they were done with their table, since they were at capacity and there were still people coming. Apparently, someone streamed their performance, and it had made a lot of people—especially young people, surprisingly enough, show up to watch.

Lucifer had asked her if she could give them their wine glasses, at least, which she’d agreed to, as long as they were careful not to spill any. Lucifer had promised and made sure to place their glasses out of the way so there wouldn’t be any accidents. He ended up getting a stool to keep them on.

The evening continued on. He didn’t know how many songs they’d gone through, but it seemed like all of them were enjoying themselves. Some couples danced in front of the stage. The owner kept hurrying around with the food, clearly a bit overworked. The pianist had ended up helping her out as her waiter while Alastor took care of the piano, which he could see his husband clearly didn’t mind from the way his fingers ran over the keys with a bit more flourish than strictly necessary.

Lucifer couldn’t stop smiling as he felt like he was getting close to his limit for the evening. He caught Alastor’s eye, holding up his index finger to signal to him that he was on his last number, and Alastor gave him a quick nod before he changed the melody to something light-hearted and playful. The others followed his example.

“No one to talk with,” Lucifer sang as he walked around the stage, pretending to look like he was all alone. “All by myself.” He saw Alastor shake his head at his antics. “No one to walk with, but I’m happy on the shelf,” Lucifer continued as he turned around in a small spin and faced Alastor with a shamelessly love-filled gaze. “Ain’t misbehavin’,” he sang to him. “I’m savin’ my love for you.”

Alastor grinned at him as the saxophone and the trumpet took over for a second.

“I know for certain the one I love.” Lucifer stepped closer to him until he was leaning against the piano. “I’m through with flirtin’, it’s just you I’m thinkin’ of.” He saw Alastor sway to the song and close his eyes as he continued to play. “Ain’t misbehavin’, I’m savin’ my love for you.” Lucifer sang as the trumpet and the saxophone once again played a short intermission.

“Like Jack Horner in the corner,” Lucifer continued. “Don’t go nowhere, what do I care?” He motioned for Alastor to give him some space on the piano stool and slumped down beside him. He leaned his back against him, careful not to make it more difficult for him to play. “Your kisses are worth waitin’ for.” He rested the back of his head on Alastor’s shoulder hearing his husband snicker. “Believe me.”

He sat back up straight. “I don’t stay out late, don’t care to go,” he sang gently, seeing that more people had ended up on the dancefloor. “I’m home about eight—” He turned back to Alastor with a smirk. “—Just me and my radio,” he sang, seeing Alastor glance at him through the corner of his eye. “Ain’t misbehavin’, savin’ my love for you.” Alastor bumped him with his shoulder, and Lucifer got back up from his seat as the music got more intense.

The trumpets and the saxophone took over as Lucifer once again moved around the stage. “In the corner.” His voice mixed with the rest of the melody. “Don’t go nowhere, what do I care?” He let his eyes fall shut as he let the sound of music fill him. It almost felt as nice as flying. “Your kisses are worth waiting for, believe me.”

“I don’t stay up late,” he sang as the rest of the melody quieted down, again, “don’t care to go.”  He ended up back at the front of the stage. “I’m home about eight, just me and my radio.” He swayed to the music. “Ain’t misbehavin’, savin’ my love for you,” he sang as the instruments surged around him, before he finished, “Ain’t misbehavin’, savin’ my love for you.”

The song ended as he heard Alastor play a few more chords on the piano before he let the melody end. Lucifer gave the audience another bow while he waited for Alastor to join him. “Don’t die in the next week, please,” Lucifer told the them, who looked taken aback by the cryptic message. He heard Alastor scoff behind him, but he just turned around to smile at him. He pulled him down by the collar and kissed his cheek, before he let him go with a wink.

The two of them went over to the rest of the band, telling them how great of a time they’d had. The band members told them they’d been enjoying their ‘little’ jam, too. Lucifer thanked them for letting them join, before they said their goodbyes and he grabbed Alastor’s hand, bringing him back down from the stage. The people seemed to have appreciated their performance, too, if their grins were anything to go by.

They stepped over to the counter where the owner was taking care of someone paying. Lucifer adjusted his hold on Alastor’s hand while they waited for the couple to move away. Alastor squeezed his hand as they stepped over to her.

“Damn,” the owner said, grinning so wide it looked like it hurt. “This is insane,” she told them.

“Almost like a demonic miracle,” Alastor muttered dryly, making Lucifer nudge him. “I’m happy to see it get the attention it deserves, though.”

“All thanks to you two,” the owner said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people in here before.”

“Yeah, well,” Lucifer huffed, hesitating a little. “I have seen it like this once before.”

“Must’ve been a while ago, then,” the owner said, before she paused, glancing between them. “Actually, you two remind me of a story my grandmother told me, once.”

“Do we?” Alastor asked.

“Yeah,” she replied as she looked over at the table the two of them had been sitting at earlier that evening. “Apparently, there were these two guys back in the thirties that stole the show after two of the band members got food poisoning. They sat at that table of yours,” she told them. “They sang all night. It was a proper party, according to granny.”

“How fun,” Alastor said, intertwining his fingers with Lucifer’s.

“Yeah, one of them was one of the locals that had grown up with the restaurant, apparently. His friend was new, though.” She paused, grimacing. “She never saw them again, after that night. One of them turned out to be that damned serial killer. The Bayou Killer or whatever it was he was called. No one knew who the other guy was. Granny suspected a lover or something given how close they seemed.”

“Husband, I think,” Lucifer said without thinking, making Alastor glare at him. The owner blinked at him, before she glanced between them. “I’m just kidding,” he hurried to add, feeling the awkward tension in the air around him. “Uhm, yeah, we should probably pay.”

She continued to stare at him for a moment, before she cleared her throat. “No need,” she said. “You’ve already made this place busier than it has been in a hundred years. It’s on the house.”

“I insist,” Lucifer said, getting out his wallet and sliding a few $100 bills across the counter. He saw Alastor narrow his eyes at the amount of money, but he ignored him. “Really, it’s the least I can do. You need it more than we do, for sure. We just want this place to stay open for as long as possible.”

“Oh,” the owner muttered. “Thank you,” she said as she took the bills. “I can’t thank you enough, to be honest. If people keep coming here after tonight, I might not have to close down, after all.” She grinned at them. “You might’ve just saved this place.”

“Well, we didn’t want it to close down, either,” he said before he lowered his voice and leaned in cryptically. “It’s where my husband, here, took me on our first date.”

The owner grinned. “Aw, how nice. You’re both very welcome back whenever you want.”

“Let’s hope it won’t take another hundred years,” Alastor said with a grin sharper than strictly necessary to get the point across. The woman’s eyes widened as Alastor turned to Lucifer. “Right, Lucifer?”

“Yeah, absolutely, Mr. Bayou Killer,” he replied. He turned to the owner who’d taken a small step away from them. “At least, I didn’t have to give anyone food poisoning, this time,” he told her cheerfully with a wink, before he giggled and pulled Alastor with him. She looked like she couldn’t decide if they were serious or not as she watched them move towards the entrance. Lucifer waved at her over his shoulder, and Alastor grinned at her one last time as they left.

Lucifer held the door open for Alastor, and a moment later, they were back out on the dark streets and walking hand in hand down the sidewalk as they giggled and snickered. Lucifer felt absolutely giddy where he walked, bumping into Alastor. The thrill of performing, as well as potentially ruining their cover was coursing through him. He felt like he was soaring, which made it all the better when Alastor tugged him into an alley and slammed him against the wall, pressing their lips together.

It was pretty much exactly what Lucifer had secretly hoped for the last time they’d left the restaurant side by side, full of adrenaline and joy after another successful show and the first time he’d heard Alastor sing properly, voice melting seamlessly with his own.

Well, okay, to be fair, he hadn’t known for sure that he’d wanted it, but that hadn’t stopped his imagination from playing with the thought after their actual first kiss. The number of “what if” scenarios his mind had played for him, playing with what would’ve happened if he’d actually ended up kissing him right after they’d been at the restaurant instead of right after he’d gotten stabbed, was quite a few.

He sighed contentedly into the kiss as he curled his fingers into Alastor’s collar. He’d wanted to kiss him properly on stage, too, but he hadn’t known if Alastor would’ve been okay with that, so he’d settled for a quick peck on his cheek, instead. This was worth the wait, though. Amusement bubbled up in his mind accompanied by a faint melody as he let his husband kiss him.

Definitely worth the wait, indeed.

Alastor pulled away, grinning at him. “I love you,” he rasped. Lucifer felt his heart stutter in his chest as he reached up and pushed a stray lock of hair out of Alastor’s face, before he let his hand slide down until it rested against his cheek.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, pulling him in for another kiss.

“Ahem,” someone said, making the two of them freeze. They turned slowly to see who was talking to them, and Lucifer felt his heart speed up. “Sorry to disturb you at such an intimate moment, but we have a few questions,” said Detective Hensley. Officer Pierce stood by his side, eyes widening when he recognised Lucifer.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Morn,” he grumbled, clearly not happy to see him. “And husband, I presume?”

“Detective Hensley,” Lucifer greeted with a nod. “Officer Pierce.”

“Ah, the officers at our door yesterday morning,” Alastor said as he moved away from Lucifer, letting him push himself away from the wall. “Good to meet you.”

“Yeah, well,” the detective muttered. “As I said, we have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind coming with us down to the station.”

“We’re a bit busy,” Lucifer said.

The detective sighed. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” Lucifer narrowed his eyes, glancing between the two of them. “You’re both suspects of a disappearance that happened last night.”

Lucifer was about to say something when the officer’s eyes landed on Alastor. “What are you smiling about?” Officer Pierce asked.

“He’s got resting smug-face,” Lucifer brushed him off. “Don’t mind him.”

“He’s got resting— what?” the officer blurted out.

“It’s a medical condition, I’m afraid,” Alastor said smugly, which didn’t really help calm the police down.

“And I mean, you can’t just bring us in,” Lucifer scoffed. He placed his hands on his hips. The movement made the officer tense up. “We haven’t done anything.”

“I’m sorry, sirs, but we have a witness saying they saw you with the missing person last night,” Detective Hensley said as he took a step forward. “You might’ve been the last people to see him, so we’re detaining you for the time being.”

“Can we say no?” Lucifer asked.

“Nope,” Officer Pierce said bluntly.

“Ah, I see,” Lucifer muttered. “Well, then.”

He grabbed Alastor’s arm and pulled him with him into a sprint. He could hear the police yelling out for them to stop, but Lucifer had no intention to get detained that night. In hindsight, he could probably have just talked himself out of the situation with a bit of demonic energy to help him out, but this was a lot more fun.

He giggled as the two of them ran out of the alley and down the sidewalk. The officer was hot on their tails, but while Lucifer was short, he was fast as fuck when he wanted to be. He was a fallen angel, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t like he could be caught, anyway. Nothing of what he did on Earth would have much of a consequence for him. Not unless it got him in trouble with Heaven, which wouldn’t happen unless he destroyed someone’s soul, or ended up revealing his true self to the entire world and ended up creating mass-hysteria of some sort. Humans nowadays didn’t seem to care much about celestial or demonic beings roaming around them. Usually, they just blamed it on science and called it a day, which was great.

“Down here,” Alastor called out, taking the lead and tugging Lucifer into another alley. They stopped momentarily to check if the coast was clear on the other side of the building, before they heard the two cops behind them, again, and kept running.

They hurried across the street. Lucifer almost stumbled on the curb, but Alastor steadied him and continued to pull him along. They weaved through the people in the streets.

A couple of guys seemed to understand that they were running away from the cops. They jumped out in front of them, forcing Alastor to let go of Lucifer. Lucifer didn’t hesitate as he slammed into the guy in front of him. He fell, and Lucifer jumped over him, cackling as he landed gracefully and kept sprinting. Alastor had gotten around the other guy and caught up with him a moment later.

Lucifer met his gaze, seeing the wild glee in them. It made him grin like a madman as he felt Alastor’s hand grab his. They turned down street after street until they ended up in Bourbon Street. It was filled to the brim with people partying and enjoying themselves. Lucifer thought it was the perfect place to lose their chasers, and brought Alastor into the crowd. They had to slow down, walking calmly through the mass of people like they belonged there.

“Do you think we lost them?” Lucifer asked, only to have to jump sideways as another officer he didn’t know, came rushing at him. “Oh, fuck!” he yelped when he noticed that there were actually a lot more of them than he first thought. All of them were trying to get to them.

“Apparently not,” Alastor said dryly as he dragged him back out of the crowd and down another, narrow street.

They skidded around a corner. Lucifer almost ran straight into a metal pole, once again forcing him to let go of Alastor. He ended up running in the middle of the street, making sure to keep Alastor in his peripheral. He noticed a police cruiser turning down the street in front of them. The sirens blared as the car sped up. He grinned, whistling for Alastor to join him down another street.

Alastor made his way between the parked cars lining the street and followed him. They could hear the car turning to follow them.

“This wasn’t how I imagined this day would go,” Lucifer admitted as they moved out of the way of an incoming car. The police cruiser was forced to stop, having no way to get past it.

“Do you think it was because of the phone?” Alastor asked.

Lucifer saw a few officers run out in front of them. “Fuck!” he exclaimed as the two of them were forced to turn around. The police that had been in the cruiser were already out, trying to cut them off.

Lucifer looked around and saw an open shop. He grinned as he grabbed onto Alastor’s wrist and ran for it. They heard a chorus of curses and demands from the police as they rushed in through the door.

“We can’t get through here, you idiot!” Alastor yelled at him as the two of them stumbled over a bunch of merchandise and crashed through a small opening into the back of the shop. He found a narrow staircase leading up to the next floor and pulled Alastor with him.

An older man stood at the top of the stairs. He blinked at them in confusion, and Lucifer realised he was blocking their path.

“Move!” he shouted, making the man’s eyes widen. He didn’t move, however, so Lucifer let go of Alastor and grabbed the man by the shoulders, pushing him to the floor as gently as he could. He could hear him moan in pain, but he was too busy finding a way to escape to care. He saw Alastor jump over the old man.

“Over here!” Alastor said, rushing over to a couple of double-doors leading to a balcony. He burst through them and stopped.

Lucifer ran after him and understood why. The balcony wasn’t huge, and there wasn’t really a place to go from there except up onto the roof. With no other options available, and the sound of people chasing them, Lucifer tapped Alastor’s shoulder to make him see where he was going, before he leaped up onto the railing and then up onto the roof from there. Alastor clearly had no intentions of jumping anywhere and vanished into his shadow before he reappeared beside Lucifer.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him which only made Alastor shrug. They made their way across the roof until they got to the gap between the building they were standing on and the next. It wasn’t a huge jump, and Lucifer leaped across the gap easily before he saw Alastor do the same. They continued like that down the block until they reached the next street. Lucifer felt Alastor grab onto him, before he felt himself get covered in the cool sensation of his shadow. When they got back out, they were down on street-level.

They couldn’t see the cops, so they ended up jogging calmly over to the other side of the street and down the sidewalk, before they moved into an alley and through a courtyard, ran up a small set of stairs and through an arched passageway through the buildings and into another street. When they still couldn’t see the cops, they crossed the street and slowed down to a walk, instead. Lucifer’s heart was racing.

“To answer your question,” Lucifer said as they walked hand-in-hand. “There’s a chance it was the phone.”

“They’re not going to find the body, right?” Alastor asked.

“Parts of him, if anything,” Lucifer muttered. “But unless Heaven cuts me off, again, the body should be gone and forgotten about.”

“But not the person, it seems,” Alastor grumbled.

“It’s a new era,” Lucifer argued. “It takes a bit of time to figure out all the little things I need to do to make all traces disappear.” He looked around the mostly empty street and saw a group of people walking on what looked like a guided tour. Lucifer hummed quietly. “That looks promising.”

“What?”

Lucifer didn’t answer as he dragged Alastor with him towards the group. They ended up walking in the back, listening to the humans mutter something about ghosts, especially some ghost boys in one of the hotels they’d apparently just visited. Lucifer knew it was pure bullshit, since ghost wasn’t a thing. Usually, it was just demons having some fun and creating chaos. He would admit messing with humans could be incredibly fun. The look of confusion on their faces was always worth it. Forest spirits were probably the closest thing you could get to actual ghosts, though.

The group strolled through the streets, the guide telling them about the different houses and buildings they passed, before they ended up in the mouth of a very familiar alley. He felt Alastor’s hand tighten its grip.

“And this, my friends,” the guide started, gesturing to the alley where Lucifer helped Alastor kill someone for the first time, “is one of the few known places in the city where we know the serial killer known as ‘The Bayou Killer’, killed one of his victims.”

“I thought you said you handled it?” Alastor hissed down at Lucifer.

“Well, it didn’t get you caught,” Lucifer argued back. “And I don’t know how they figured it out. I was really thorough with the cover-up.”

“According to the police reports, there was a missing person’s case from nineteen-thirty-two. Charles Moreau disappeared without a trace one night. He was last seen by his friends in this very alley.” The guide glanced at his watch, before he huffed a laugh. “The hundred-year anniversary of his disappearance was just a couple of days ago, actually,” he told them, making Lucifer look up at Alastor with a grin.

“Freaky,” one of the other humans muttered, looking like she was particularly unsettled by that information.

“Moreau’s friends were at first thought to be behind his disappearance, but a year later, the remains of Moreau mysteriously washed ashore a little ways down the river,” the guide continued his story. “Which is how they found out it had been the work of one of the most notorious serial killers in America.”

“Debatable,” one of the other tourists said, making his friends snicker.

Lucifer could feel the irritation roll off of Alastor, so he leaned a little against him to try and make him calm down. At least the guide seemed to appreciate Alastor’s work.

“The Bayou Killer was a cannibal, and from the wounds found on what was left of Moreau, there were pieces missing from him that looked like someone had cut them off with a knife.” The guide placed his hands on his hips as he looked around the alley. “From what we know, he was on his way home after a night out on the town and met his friends here. This could very well be where he was killed.” The guide’s eyes landed on Alastor and Lucifer. “Oh, uhm. Did you join the group—”

“We’ve been here from the start of your tour,” Lucifer said with a grin.

“You’ve been here from the start of my tour,” the guide agreed with a nod before he frowned in confusion. “Where was I?” He looked at the alley, again. “Oh, right.”

Alastor hummed. “Interesting trick.”

“Very useful,” Lucifer agreed.

“But you didn’t think to use it on the police.”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “You said I should do things the human way,” he pointed out.

“Getting arrested wasn’t part of that suggestion,” Alastor scoffed, making Lucifer giggle. It made Alastor snort, too.

“We were getting detained,” Lucifer corrected him.

“And then arrested,” Alastor said. “There’s no way in Hell they wouldn’t end up arresting us if they have a witness who recognised us from that bar.”

“It was probably the fucking bartender,” Lucifer muttered.

“Hey!” someone shouted, and the two of them flinched and spun around, seeing Detective Hensley and another, unknown officer come sprinting at them.

“Well, your plan worked for half an hour,” Alastor drawled.

“Shut up,” Lucifer retorted as he pulled Alastor with him away from the group.

“Stop them!” the detective screamed at the tourists in the group.

Lucifer felt someone’s arm try and grab his shoulder, but it went straight through him. He grinned to himself as the chase started up again. Alastor once again took the lead, bringing him down streets and through alleys and passageways, before they ended up jumping straight into one of the streetcars that was about to leave the station.

That turned out to be a horrible idea as the streetcar driver decided that he didn’t want to bring them anywhere. He then decided it was a good idea to lock them in, which Lucifer wasn’t too happy about, so he pushed the doors back open himself, much to the driver’s astonishment, before the two of them continued to run.

They ran down the sidewalk of one of the busier streets. As they passed another passageway, a cop came sprinting out of it, trying to grab onto Lucifer, who easily dodged him. Lucifer dragged Alastor into the street, manoeuvring them around the cars.

He didn’t see one of the incoming busses before it would’ve been too late if it hadn’t been for Alastor making them slip into his shadow and back out on the other side of the vehicle. Lucifer had just enough time to see the cop that had tried to tackle them stand with his hands on his head in shock, looking like he thought they’d been flattened, before Alastor continued to drag him with him into the Lower Garden District.

He didn’t know how long they’d been running for when they finally ended up slowing down. They made their way into a tight passage between two buildings where they ended up leaning against the wall, giggling and snickering. Lucifer tried to stop, but it only made him laugh harder as he glanced at Alastor.

“Fucking hell,” he tittered. “That was close.”

“How did you not see the bus?” Alastor asked incredulously.

“I was too busy pulling you away from the fucking truck,” Lucifer retorted. They snorted, leaning against each other. “Damn,” he breathed. “They’re probably still on our tail. We should probably get out of here before they find—”

“Hands where I can see them!”

“—us,” Lucifer finished dryly as he raised his hands slowly. Alastor did the same. They turned to look at yet another police officer. He looked a little younger than the ones that had showed up at his door. He was breathing hard like he’d been running around after them since early on, and holding what looked like a fancy-looking gun Lucifer had never seen before. “Good evening,” Lucifer said with an impish grin.

“Way to go, Andy!” another officer shouted as she came up beside the one threatening them with the strange gun. Lucifer contemplated their chances of backing away and getting out on the other side of the passage when he heard more people come running, blocking their escape.

“You’ve got nowhere to go,” Andy told the two of them where they stood, ignoring the praise from his colleague. Lucifer wanted to argue, but Alastor cleared his throat to stop him. “Get down on the ground. I don’t want this to escalate more than it already has.”

“Well, we’re not the ones holding the gun, here, officer,” Lucifer said smartly, which made him narrow his eyes. “I think you should lower your weapon and let us go.”

Lucifer grinned a little wider when the guy started to lower his weapon, much to the other officer’s surprise. She didn’t hesitate bringing out her own, strange-looking gun and pointed it at them. That seemed to bring the first one out of his persuaded state as he lifted his gun back up.

“Down on the ground!” she yelled, taking another step forward. “Now!”

“Or what?” Lucifer asked. “You kill us?”

She seemed confused by that, eyes going down to the gun in her hand. “This is a taser, sir,” she explained. “Don’t force me to use it.”

Lucifer leaned closer to Alastor. “What the fuck is a taser?”

“I have no idea,” Alastor admitted.

“Just get down,” Andy repeated gruffly, taking a step closer to them.

Lucifer could hear the ones trying to sneak up behind them. He sighed and rolled his eyes, before he very clearly and slowly put his hands behind his back. He glanced over his shoulder and met Detective Hensley’s eyes.

“Don’t bother with the tackle,” he told him, wiggling his hands to make the detective understand that he wasn’t going to run off.

Alastor looked especially annoyed as he followed Lucifer’s example, letting the officer who first showed up put handcuffs on him. Detective Hensley did the same for Lucifer, before the tasers were put away properly and they were escorted out of the passage where a lot more cops were waiting for them while the detective read them their rights.

“Great work, Greene,” one of the older cops told Andy before he turned to Lucifer and Alastor. “You gave us quite the scare with that bus, gentlemen.”

“Anything to make you fuck off,” Lucifer drawled, making the older cop chuckle. “We almost got away, though. You have to give us that.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that,” the guy agreed. “Good thing I have such good officers on our team. You’ll get to hitch a ride with Detective Greene, here, down to the station.” He patted the young detective’s shoulder. “Don’t lose them,” he warned Detective Greene, before he stepped away from them and over to some other people.

“Surprisingly many detectives for a missing person’s case,” Alastor muttered as he was moved towards one of the police cruisers.

“Does it have anything to do with the thing about people dying in the bayou?” Lucifer asked Detective Hensley, who was pushing Lucifer after Alastor and Detective Greene. Hensley said nothing. “Ah, okay. So, you think we killed all of them,” Lucifer said before he turned to Alastor. “This is definitely not how I thought we’d spend our last evening in New Orleans.”

“Not the best way to end the honeymoon, no,” Alastor replied as Detective Greene opened the backdoor on the driver’s side and let him get in, helping him with the seatbelt. Lucifer was brought over on the other side and climbed in, getting the same seatbelt help. The door shut behind him, leaving the two of them alone in the car. They could see the detectives talk to each other outside, a few others joining them. “I’ve managed to avoid arrest for so long, only to be taken down by a damned phone,” Alastor grumbled to himself.

“It’ll be a good story, though,” Lucifer tried, shutting up when Alastor glared at him.

“Well, then. How do you suggest we get out of this pickle?” he asked. Lucifer could hear the anger, and while he knew it would be extremely easy to get out of the situation, as well as the fact that an arrest wasn’t the end of the world, he decided they could have some fun with it.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lucifer asked him mischievously, trying to reassure his husband that everything would be perfectly fine.

“Rarely,” Alastor replied dryly.

“Come here,” Lucifer muttered with a grin. “Boop my nose.”

Alastor stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Just do it,” Lucifer pressed.

“My hands are tied behind my back,” Alastor argued.

“Oh, come on! Use your nose. You’ve kissed me a bunch of times. You’re not afraid of getting all up in my face, are you?” Lucifer huffed when Alastor still wasn’t moving closer to him. “Fine. I’m sorry I got us arrested.”

“That’s better,” Alastor growled before he moved over and pressed a chaste kiss to Lucifer’s nose.

There was a bright flash, and instead of his human-looking husband sitting beside him, there was now a stag. The handcuffs fell off, allowing its legs to move back in place instead of being contorted unnaturally behind its back. The antlers scraped against the roof of the car, ripping up the fabric. Wide eyes met Lucifer’s.

“You’re okay,” Lucifer said calmly, getting his own handcuffs off. Alastor grunted, and started to kick the seat in front of him. The seatbelt was still on, too, which probably didn’t help. “You’re fine, love. You’re good.” Lucifer grabbed onto his face, holding him still until Alastor stopped squirming. “Just a new disguise for you, okay?”

Alastor stared at him like he wanted to say it was a completely unnecessary disguise to have. Especially in that situation.

“Just stay calm, okay? Trust me?” Lucifer asked. The deer relaxed and nodded. Lucifer grinned and pressed a gentle kiss to his muzzle, before he winked at him an turned himself into a duck for the second time that day. He stepped out of the seatbelt and back into the handcuffs and heard Alastor groan. Lucifer decided it was a groan of amusement and not because he thought the plan was probably the worst plan in the history of escape plans.

They waited patiently for the detective to return. Alastor kept closing his eyes and squinting, before glancing at the window where the cops were still talking outside. Lucifer wiggled his tailfeathers in anticipation. Alastor looked down at his left front leg, moving it back and forth like he was looking for something. Lucifer guessed he was trying to find out what had happened to Lousia. He tried to give him a gentle coo to let him know the snake was fine, but it was cut off by the driver’s side door opening, and Detective Greene getting in.

He shut the door behind him and sighed. “Okay, guys,” he said as he put on his seatbelt. “I’m going to drive you down to the station, and then we’ll get all of this sorted out.” He reached up and adjusted the mirror so he could see the two of them in the backseat. His hand stilled as his eyes met Lucifer’s.

“Quack,” Lucifer said.

Detective Greene dove for the car door, struggled with the doorhandle to get it open, tried to leave the car only to get stuck in the seat belt, which made him curse and frantically try and get to the release button. It clicked as it released, and he scrambled out and fell to the ground before he managed to slam the door shut.

“What the fuck?!” they heard him scream from outside. “What the fuck is that?!” he continued. Lucifer could se a bunch of the other officers come running over to him. “What!?”

Some of the other cops tried to look through the tinted windows. Lucifer let his demonic powers stretch out across the street so it covered everyone in the area, including everyone standing by. He smiled to himself as he felt their minds.

The door to the passenger side opened. Officer Pierce poked his head in, before he immediately slammed the door shut and moved away. The rest of the cops kept walking around the car like they didn’t know what to do about the situation. Lucifer made sure they all thought they’d captured a couple of humans, only to realise they’d been chasing down two animals the entire night, instead.

Lucifer snickered, glancing up at Alastor who looked like he was starting to enjoy it more and more the longer the police seemed to struggle. He chirped up at his husband, who glanced down at him. It was incredibly strange seeing him grin without actually having upper, front teeth. It looked weirdly cute.

The two front doors of the car opened up, again, and Detective Greene calmly sat back down in the driver’s seat. He pointedly did not look in the mirror, instead staring straight ahead while he got in and got his seatbelt back on, and closed the door without making too much noise. The other officer was another one they hadn’t met properly, before. It was the same one who tried to tackle Lucifer before they almost got hit by the bus.

He looked incredibly nervous where he sat and put on his seatbelt.

“Just keep calm, Winston,” Detective Greene said quietly.  

“I can’t do birds, dude,” Winston replied, voice trembling. “Why the fuck did they make me ride with you?”

“Because you’re afraid of birds,” Greene grumbled as he started the car, finally looking up to make sure the sound of the engine didn’t startle the two animals. “We’ll just get them to the bayou, open the door and let them run off wherever the hell they want. You’ll be fine.”

“Fuck,” Winston hissed, gripping the edge of his seat.

The car started moving. Lucifer stumbled a bit, making him yelp. The humans startled.

“Why did it have to be a bird,” Winston kept whining. “They’re so fucking disgusting.”

Well, Lucifer felt incredibly offended by that. He could see Alastor give him a look as if to tell him to not do something stupid.

Lucifer ignored him, stepped back out of his handcuffs and flew into the front of the car, landing on the dashboard. The two officers screamed, Detective Greene slamming his foot on the breaks as well as the gas pedal, making the car screech to a halt and jump forwards, before killing the engine.

“Get the fucking bird!” Greene yelled at Winston, who was trying his best despite gagging and squealing as he tried to grab onto Lucifer, who definitely wasn’t making it any easier as he snapped and hissed at the poor guy. “For fuck’s sake, just grab it, man!”

Winston finally managed to grab onto Lucifer by the neck, before he pulled him into his lap and opened the door so he could escape. Lucifer had no intentions of leaving Alastor behind in the car, so he simply sat down on the officer’s lap.

“No, no, no,” Winston moaned as he tried to forcefully push Lucifer out of the open door. Lucifer didn’t budge. “You’re free to go,” the guy coaxed him, trying to sound sweet, but Lucifer didn’t care.

The moment Winston let go of him, he simply turned around and stepped onto the centre console. He saw Detective Greene open the window on his side, before he slowly reached over to Lucifer. Lucifer knew what he was trying to do, but he didn’t stop him. Instead, he let the detective grab onto him and fling him out of the window. Lucifer did a quick loop and flew right around to the other side of the car and into the still open door on Winston’s side. The two cops screamed again, and Lucifer decided they’d learned their lesson (whatever that lesson was), so he went back into the backseat and settled down next to Alastor, who gave him an unimpressed look.

“Just fucking drive,” Winston bit out through gritted teeth as he slammed the door shut, again.

Detective Greene didn’t say a word as he got the car rolling, again. Lucifer watched them for a moment before he snuggled up against the stag beside him. Alastor wiggled a little in his seat, kicking the backrest on the one in front of him, making the detective grumble something as he brought the car out of the city.

“Maybe they’re friends?” Winston said after a while of tense silence.

“It’s a bird and a fucking deer, Winston,” Detective Greene said.

“Yeah, but look at them.” He looked at them. “I really don’t think ducks usually hang around deer, do they? They look like friends.”

The detective scoffed. “Maybe they’re married.”

Lucifer chirped in confirmation, but the only reaction he got was from Winston who tensed up, looking like he expected Lucifer to come flying at him, again.

“Well, we all thought they were two married dudes for some reason,” Winston muttered. “The weird guy in the bayou and his husband, right?”

“It doesn’t add up,” Detective Greene said. “I chased those two guys through the entire city. I had them, Winston. I know I did. I got them into the car, and then they were gone.”

“We had to stop the chase because of the animals, remember?” Winston replied quietly. “They got into a restaurant? We caught them and got them into the cruiser.”

“Then why the fuck would we put handcuffs on them?” Detective Greene hissed, nodding towards the handcuffs laying on Lucifer’s seat. “And why the fuck did get them into a car, anyway? People usually just shoot the damned deer and get it over with!” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It could’ve been them, man.”

“I know.”

“They live in the fucking bayou,” Detective Greene continued. “They were seen with the fucking guy who disappeared last night. At least the fucking short guy.” He let out another sigh as he rested his elbow on the windowsill. “And then they show up in a fucking restaurant the next day, doing a musical number?”

“We don’t know if they’re behind it,” Winston said. “The friend never said much other than that he got a cryptic message from the guy.”

“And that’s another thing,” Detective Greene replied. “He’s never let anyone send a text before. Why would he do it, now?”

Winston shrugged. “For all we know, he’s not actually missing. He could’ve just joined that bayou guy and had some fun, you know? We don’t have a body.”

“We should go talk to them, again,” the detective muttered. “After we get rid of these damned animals,” he added, glancing at Lucifer in the mirror.

Lucifer was getting invested. He tilted his head, seeing Alastor having closed his eyes. His ears were still flickering, which made Lucifer think he was listening in, too. They definitely had to start thinking about phones if they wanted to keep doing this.

“Did Dylan say anything about how long their honeymoon was going to be?” Winston asked. “They could’ve left, already.”

“They ran away, remember?” the detective huffed. “It’s not like they’re going to go back to the house, now, right? They should still be in the city.”

“Nah, I think they probably went back to their house. Why would they stay in the city if we’re looking for them? They clearly had no interest in coming back to the station, at least.”

“This case is giving me a fucking headache,” the detective grumbled. He hesitated for a moment before he glanced at the other. “Do you think they’d be more cooperative if we don’t bring them in?”

“You sound like you’re getting desperate,” Winston huffed.

“I am desperate,” Detective Greene retorted. “We need information and those two fuckers might’ve had some. They might not be the ones who got him, but they might’ve been able to tell us something about where they saw him, last.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, before he steered the car away from the main road and onto a side road. The cruiser dipped and shook as they drove down the gravel road. Lucifer saw there was another car following them. He got up from where he’d been laying pressed against Alastor’s side, before he tried to look out of the rear window. He couldn’t, so he ended up settling back down, again. “Do we have his number or something?”

“Nope. Dylan said Cameron started acting weird, so he just gave the guy his card and left,” Winston said with a sigh. “Fuck this case, man.”

“Two fucking years of this shit,” Detective Greene scoffed. “And we’re still completely lost.”

Winston stayed quiet for a moment. “I don’t think they had anything to do with it.”

“You don’t?”

“No. That house has been broken down for decades and it’s only been finished for the last few weeks or so, according to the others.” Winston furrowed his brow. “They’ve just been waiting for the owners to move in so they could tell them about being careful out there. Those two guys have got nothing to do with the other ones, at least. They just got here a few days ago.”

Detective Greene seemed to deflate. “You’re probably right,” he muttered. “But why would they run?”

“Maybe they just didn’t want to get arrested on their honeymoon?” Winston looked out of the window. “I know my wife wouldn’t be too happy if that happened to us, at least.”

“I’ll probably go and have a chat with them tomorrow morning, just in case they have some information on the missing guy,” the detective muttered. “If they want to talk to me, at least.”

“It’s not really your responsibility, though,” Winston said. Lucifer tilted his head at that. “You’re just a trainee. If someone’s going to talk to them, it would be one of us others.” He sighed. “Look, I know you want to prove yourself on this case, but seriously. You need to calm down. Don’t risk your job just because you decided to be reckless.”

“I won’t,” Detective Greene said, sounding like he didn’t really mean it.

They drove down the bumpy road in silence until the detective slowed the car to a stop. He put on the parking brake and turned off the car, before he got his seatbelt off and stepped outside. Winston gave the two animals in the backseat one last glance before he followed after his colleague and closed the door.

Alastor and Lucifer waited for the backdoors to open, but it didn’t happen. Lucifer tried to figure out if the car following them had stopped, too, but he couldn’t see anything. He got his answer when the door on his side finally opened and Detective Henley looked down at him. Apparently, another couple of cops had joined them.

“Hello, there, little guy,” the detective said. “Aren’t you a pretty one?” Lucifer felt weirdly flattered by the praise. “Come on, out with you.”

Lucifer glanced up at Alastor, who looked like he was very done being stuck sitting at such a weird angle, so he gave his husband one last chirp before he waddled over to the open door. Detective Henley watched him with an amused smile before he looked over at Winston and Detective Greene.

“What the fuck?” Winston exclaimed as Lucifer jumped out of the car and beat his wings to land softly on the ground. Lucifer quacked at the guy. Detective Greene didn’t look any less surprised by the ease of which Detective Henley got him out of the car.

“Sometimes you just have to be polite, you know?” Detective Henley said.

“It’s a bird, Dylan,” Officer Pierce, whom Lucifer hadn’t seen standing by the trunk of the car, said.

“Birds have feelings, too, Pierce,” the detective huffed. “Now, get your hands out of your damned pockets and help me get the deer out. Some idiot decided it would be fun to put the seatbelt on him.”

“He was human when I put it on,” Detective Greene stated.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Officer Pierce said as he walked over to open the door on Alastor’s side. Lucifer hurried after him. “How the fuck did you even get it in here, Andy?”

“He was human!” Detective Greene repeated.

Lucifer murmured as he waited for the officer to start getting his husband out of the car. Officer Pierce didn’t look like he wanted to have him there, so he tried to move him with his foot. Lucifer growled at him.

“Winston,” Officer Pierce said. “Get the bird out of the way.”

“I’m not touching that damned demon duck again, man,” Winston replied gruffly. “No fucking chance.”

“It’s not a demon duck. It’s a regular duck,” Officer Pierce said.

“He was also human,” Detective Greene mumbled as he walked over to Detective Henley to give him a hand with the seatbelt.

“Shut up, Andy,” Winston said as he moved over to the cruiser. He walked over to Lucifer and tried to shoo him away from the car. Lucifer wasn’t having it and started trying to bite him. The man yelped and jumped out of the way. Lucifer ran after him making him scream and run away. Lucifer kept chasing him around the narrow road. “Get this fucking demon piece of shit away from me!” Winston shrieked, stumbling over a rock and landing hard on the gravel road. He groaned and pushed himself up on his hands and knees.

“You’ve faced down criminals with guns, Detective Brooks!” Detective Henley yelled at him. “Pull yourself together or go wait in the other cruiser. Or, even better, keep that duck out of the way while the rest of us try and get this deer out!”

“I got it,” Detective Greene said from inside the car, apparently getting the seatbelt loosened. It got Lucifer’s attention for long enough to start waddling back to the car. He wiggled his tailfeathers excitedly as he watched Officer Pierce grab Alastor and start pulling him out, while Detective Henley made sure to keep the antlers from getting stuck.

“Damned deer,” Officer Pierce grumbled, only for Alastor to give him a hard kick in the leg. The officer cried out, which then made Alastor kick more, trying to get his hands off of him.

“Shit!” Winston yelped, rushing over to try and help.

“Let go of him!” Detective Henley ordered, making the two cops move away. Alastor backed out of the car, still kicking after the guy. Lucifer whistled at his husband, and he immediately calmed down. “Just leave him alone. We’ll get his head out.”

“You okay, Cameron?” Winston asked Officer Pierce. “You took a few hits, there.”

“Nothing’s broken, at least,” Officer Pierce grumbled as he limped away from the car.

Detective Greene came around the car and opened the driver’s side door, grabbing the antlers and helping getting them out from the frame. Once free, Alastor huffed sharply and backed away from the car. Lucifer could see he was getting used to being an actual deer, having to move on four legs instead of two. He seemed to get used to it quickly enough, however, and after a moment, he got his head down to Lucifer’s level. Lucifer went over to him, chirping and whistling as he nuzzled his bill against Alastor’s muzzle.

“I told you they were friends,” Winston said, only for Officer Pierce roll his eyes.

Lucifer nodded for Alastor to follow him, before he turned on his heels and flapped his wings, took a few steps and let himself go airborne. He flew over the cops and saw Alastor look after him for a moment before he took a few staggering steps, still getting used to the new way of walking, before he finally seemed to get the hang of it and shot forwards, straight towards where Officer Pierce and Winston were standing. The two cops yelped and jumped out of the way as Alastor stormed into the treeline after Lucifer. Lucifer circled around a few trees just so he could end up beside his husband, again. He glanced back one last time, seeing Detective Greene standing at the edge of the forest, looking after them.

Lucifer wondered if the guy would actually show up the next day, or if he’d end up leaving them alone. He had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t the last time he’d see the detective, at least.

He focused on following Alastor through the bayou, seeing him skip through the trees like it was nothing. Lucifer weaved between the trunks just to be able to slow down enough for him not to fly away from his husband. He found it almost a little relaxing and exhilarating watching him run at full speed towards an area they knew a little bit better.

Lucifer swooped down and kicked Alastor’s antler, making Alastor stumble. He didn’t fall, but shook his head and scoffed, trying to jump up and bite him. Lucifer dodged easily and snickered as the two of them continued to move.

It didn’t take long before even Lucifer started to recognise where they were. They weren’t too far from the clearing, and the moment they breached the treeline and got into the open space filled with fireflies, Alastor changed back into his human form. He struggled to stay on his feet with the amount of speed he’d changed with, and Lucifer used the opportunity to barrel into him as he changed back, too, sending them both crashing down against one of the trees.

They were cackling where they were laying, Lucifer sprawled on top of Alastor, hugging his waist tightly. The entire situation had been incredibly stupid, but it had worked. Lucifer took that as a win, and while it would’ve been a lot easier to just get the police to back off immediately, this was infinitely more entertaining.

He met Alastor’s sharklike grin. A few fireflies buzzed around them, landing on them as Lucifer pushed himself up and captured Alastor’s lips. He felt Alastor bring his hand up and cup his chin. Lucifer couldn’t stop smiling.

The honeymoon had been nothing like he expected. He’d enjoyed himself immensely, of course. Everything from the wedding and up until that moment had been perfect—even getting momentarily arrested for something they had definitely done, but apparently, might have gotten away with. He didn’t want it to end. He could just stay under that tree kissing his husband for the rest of eternity for all he cared. He loved being there in his arms. He loved him more than most. His partner in crime, dance partner, duet partner. His best friend. Fuck, he loved him.

Lucifer didn’t know what the future would bring, but he knew for a fact he didn’t care as long as he had Alastor by his side.

They were them.

Just them.

…

“AAH! Fuck! What the fuck?!”

“That’s for getting me arrested, turning me into a deer and getting me stuck in a fucking cop car.”

“Yeah, okay, I deserved that one. Shit, I forgot what getting stabbed feels like.”

“I guess it was time for a reminder, then.”

“Damn it.”

Chapter Text

The portal opened in the middle of the lobby. Charlie looked up from where she’d been talking to one of the new arrivals. She squealed as she got up from her seat and rushed over to the golden gateway to Earth. She was running on the spot with excitement as she waited for the two newlyweds to come back from their honeymoon.

Lucifer stepped through the portal a moment later. He was still wearing his human disguise, and while Charlie would recognise him no matter what he looked like, she was still a little surprised by it. Especially the blue eyes that landed on her.

“Charlie!” he exclaimed, rushing over to her and pulling her into a tight hug. She clung to him, letting him bring her into a little happy-dance before he let her go. He grinned up at her as his human features melted away into his regular, demonic look.

“How was it?” Charlie asked him. “Did you have fun? Did Al enjoy the house?”

“Let him answer, will ya?” Angel Dust said from where he was sitting at the bar. Husk was leaning on the counter beside him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie waved him off. She was about to continue with the interrogation when she spotted Alastor come through the portal, too. It closed behind him.

“Oh, damn,” Angel Dust muttered. “No wonder he fell for him.”

Alastor was also still in his human disguise, and while Charlie had seen a couple of pictures of them from their trip, she hadn’t seen the real deal. Brown hair and brown eyes with round glasses resting on the bridge of his nose instead his usual monocle.

Charlie immediately ran over to him and brought him into a tight hug, too. “Hi, Al,” she greeted him.

“Hello, Charlie,” he replied, hugging her back.

She could hear Angel Dust let out a disappointed sigh, and when she let go of her new dad, she saw him back to his regular, old demonic self. Except the clothes. He was still wearing a regular shirt which was also almost a bit unnerving when she wasn’t used to it.

“We come bearing gifts,” Lucifer declared with a grin.

“They’re dreadful,” Alastor muttered to Charlie. “And not in a good way.” He paused, before he grinned a little wider. “His gifts, at least.” He held open his hand, and a second later, a golden necklace hung from his fingers. A tiny pendant shaped like a trident hung from the chain.

Charlie gasped, taking the offered necklace from him. “Oh my God, Al! Thank you so much!” She went in for another, crushing hug.

“It’s a matching pair,” Alastor told her, holding up another one made of silver. The pendant looked a lot like Vaggie’s spear. “Speak of the devil,” he said as Vaggie stepped out of the elevator together with Niffty.

Charlie squeaked as she ran over to Vaggie and brought her over so she could receive her own necklace. “Look!” she exclaimed, pointing at the necklace Alastor was holding while holding up her own. “They match!” Her eyes were tearing up a bit.

“It’s up to you who would like to wear which one,” Alastor said as he changed his grip on the chain so he could drop it into Vaggie’s hand. “I hope you like them.”

“I love them!” Charlie said, beaming at him.

“They’re gorgeous,” Vaggie muttered. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome!” Alastor grinned, before he left the two of them and stepped over to the bar. Charlie watched him get out a sixpack of beer for Husk, and a gun for Angel Dust of all things.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was handing a rubber duck that looked like a maid to Niffty, who in return climbed him like a tree and slapped the most vile-looking crown Charlie had ever seen on his head. Cockroaches, dead rats, spiderweb and actual spiders were neatly placed to create what Niffty apparently deemed a masterpiece. Lucifer looked more grossed out, but he thanked her all the same.

Niffty sprinted over to Alastor to show him the duck, before she gave him a crown, too. It looked equally—if not more disgusting than the one she’d given Lucifer. Alastor gave her a dagger, which she immediately started running around with, looking for roaches.

“Do you want this one?” Vaggie asked quietly, holding her necklace up to Charlie. Charlie grinned at her and nodded and held her hair out of the way, letting her wife secure it around her neck. When she was done, Charlie did the same to Vaggie, hanging the necklace around her neck before she kissed her cheek.

“Hey,” Lucifer said from beside them, making them jump. “Here you go!” he said proudly, holding up a couple of rubber ducks. They were horrible quality, Charlie noted, especially in comparison to the ones her dad usually made. The one he gave to Charlie looked like a dragon. “It reminded me of Dazzle,” Lucifer told her.

“Thanks, dad,” Charlie said hoarsely. She was genuinely moved by the gift.

“And this is for you, Vaggie,” he said, giving Vaggie one that looked like an angel. She looked less happy about the awfully crafted duck, but she still thanked him. He grinned at them and hurried over to where Husk and Angel Dust were chatting to Alastor.

The two of them made their way after him and leaned against the bar while Husk got Lucifer and Alastor a drink each.

“So, how was it?” Charlie asked. “Did you have fun?”

“Your father got us arrested,” Alastor drawled.

Oh, fuck, Charlie thought as Lucifer spit out his drink. 

Chapter Text

Exhausted.

Lucifer felt exhausted. It wasn’t the first time, by far, but it had been a while since he felt like he could fall asleep on a couch and stay asleep for at least a week. Actually, it wouldn’t be surprising if he ended up frolicking around in dreamland for the next year, if he got the chance. The worst part about it wasn’t even that he wasn’t getting sleep. He slept fine (if you didn’t count the frequent nightmares that still plagued him ever since the war. Those were also fun).

The problem was, instead, that his days were filled with absolute chaos. He’d gotten home from his honeymoon with Alastor, and while Charlie had managed to keep Hell mostly under control for those three days, the situation between Heaven and Hell kept escalating. Now, there wasn’t a chance of another war. No, no. Not at all. It was just the simple act of letting demons go on short trips to Heaven that was the problem.

Demons, as one knows, don’t have rules. They live as freely as they please, do as much damage as they want, and love breaking rules whenever they come across them. Which was why demons who wanted redemption would have to go through an extensive rehabilitation program at one of Charlie’s hotels before they could be allowed into Heaven. The trouble of letting regular demons, both sinners, hellborn and fallen angels (not so much the fallen angels), go on short trips, became imminent the moment Lucifer got back from Earth. While Heaven had law enforcement, they weren’t used to the onslaught of different things demons were willing to do while they were visiting.

So, while they were working out the kinks of a contract that would make everything work a lot smoother (by essentially binding demons temporarily by Heaven’s rules while in Heaven, and somehow punish them if they did something they weren’t allowed to do by sending them back to Hell, or right into some sort of holding cell while they waited for someone to have time to kick them out- through a portal, not just through the old method of falling), Lucifer had his days filled with meetings, phone calls, quick trips between Heaven and Hell, as well as just trips between the rings in general.

Every. Single. Day. Since he’d come back. It started with the first, proper meeting the day after they’d come back to Hell, and after that, it was like a bomb went off. There was no easing him into it. It was like every single more or less important demon in Hell, as well as every single angel in Heaven decided that they needed to talk to him immediately.

And truth be told, it wasn’t just Lucifer who was struggling. Alastor had a lot to do, too, but he’d said he could take care of the opposite problem of angels and winners coming to Hell—only for them to vanish without a trace. He was working closely with both the hotels, the angel representatives as well as the overlords and the sins just to figure out how to stop demons from kidnapping the poor souls who decided to take a weekend trip to Hell. Which, to be fair, was one of the stranger things people from Heaven were willing to do. Lucifer had a feeling it was because of some fascination with his realm, and the freedom people had, there. However, with angels and winners not being well enough informed about the actual dangers of going to a place with no rules, it made them more susceptible to getting tricked into doing things they shouldn’t, and ending up in places they couldn’t get out of without some help.

In comparison to Heaven, Hell didn’t have law enforcement in the sense that they would have someone stopping people from kidnapping someone or trying to find them, and thus, trying to find the souls that had gotten lost became a job for the higher-ups. Alastor had even gone so far as to hire the damned assassins just to help them out with finding the angels, as well as working closely with the overlords and sins who had a much better overview of their districts and their rings.

Which meant that both Alastor and Lucifer had their days filled with the most annoying and irritating meetings they’d ever had, mostly because they both ended up so dammed disappointed and frustrated with the rest of demon kind who just decided to give them more work than necessary. Lucifer had been afraid of this happening, and he’d been right about it, too. He tried so hard to not blame the demons as a whole, but for fuck’s sake, it was literally the only thing he heard about day in and day out.

And on top of that, there was a gala dinner at Stolas’ palace coming up, which was the first time there would be both demons and angels attending a more formal party together that wasn’t a wedding. Lucifer knew he would have to attend. He’d told Alastor he didn’t have to join him if he’d rather do something else, but his husband had apparently decided to be supportive (or had some other ulterior motives), and had told him he’d accompany him to the dinner. Which, yeah, actually made Lucifer look more forward to it. He hoped it would be somewhat of a break from their regular, chaotic schedule.

Lucifer sighed as he hung up his phone after yet another call from Emily about yet another problematic situation in Heaven that apparently couldn’t wait for a day. The gala dinner was the next evening, and while he had been looking forward to it, the more he thought about sitting in a room filled with a bunch of other people felt like the actual worst thing he could be doing. Especially when all he did, lately, was sit in rooms with people all day, every day. The same people, even. It wasn’t like it had been a while since he saw them. No, he’d seen at least twenty of them in the past twenty-four hours and he had literally no desire to see them again.

He walked through the entrance doors to the palace, trying to figure out what to do about the new situation where the heavenly guards had too many people to try and detain and no great way to get them all out at once, once they wanted to get them removed. They’d had to somehow stuff them all inside Hell’s new embassy in Heaven, which wasn’t working too well when all of them were demons and none of them liked being stuck in places for a longer amount of time. He really didn’t want to go up there that day to try and shove them all through a portal, even if that was probably the easiest solution.

He was the king. Having to go up to Heaven to deal with a problem that was such an incredibly trivial one felt like a waste of his time and power. He’d wanted to have the angels kick the demons out if they caused trouble, but because they’d used Hell’s embassy in Heaven to store the bastards, they couldn’t get them to come back out and through the portals. Not without the embassy kicking them out, and that was another difficult task to do, apparently. Lucifer didn’t really give a shit about whatever they did to push them into the hands of the guards. They’d broken the rules of travelling there, and they should face the consequences instead of trying to claim that they had rights they didn’t have. Not while in another realm with a completely different form of government.

He was really contemplating going there just to get them out, and he probably would have if it weren’t for the fact that he had other things to attend to. He’d asked Emily if she was willing to let them stay in the embassy for the time being, until after the gala, but she’d been a bit unsure about it. There wasn’t a lot of space in the embassy, and the more people who got shoved in there by the heavenly guards, the more likely it was that it would end up being a lot more chaos trying to get them all out again.

He let out another sigh as he sent a message to Charlie, asking her if she had any idea what they could do, or if she had time to look into the issue. He knew she had more than enough on her plate with the number of hotels and just having a lot to do with the rehabilitation programs, but he had no other choice at that point. She was talented getting other demons to listen to her, and she had the means of fixing this particular problem. She worked great with Emily, too, which was a bonus.

“Do you have a moment?”

Lucifer grimaced as he looked up at his husband who’d apparently come sneaking up behind him while he was busy with his phone. “That very much depends,” he replied as they continued through the palace, side by side. Alastor looked as exhausted as himself, which wasn’t great. If the both of them ended up collapsing from sheer exhaustion, the problem with the demons of Hell ruining the peace in Heaven would only get worse, as well as combine with the problem of missing souls in Hell.

Alastor hummed. “Well, I’ve got a bit of a situation.”

Lucifer sighed yet again. It felt like it was the only thing he did, lately. “What happened?”

“Well, nothing in particular,” Alastor said, which Lucifer found too good to be true. “We’re just having some trouble finding this very particular winner, and to be honest, we don’t know if she’s still alive or not.”

Lucifer came to a halt. Alastor stopped with him, turning to look at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lucifer grumbled.

“I’m afraid not,” Alastor muttered. “I was wondering if you have a moment to help me check Limbo. I’m guessing she’d be at level one for regeneration.”

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he let it back out. “If she is, then there’s not really any need to go look for her,” he replied. “She’ll regenerate in Heaven, somewhere, and she’ll be fine. All we can hope for is that she tells us about it when she does, so we don’t have to look for her anymore.”

“Well, that gives me some time to spare,” Alastor said with a relieved grin. “She was the last one on my list.”

“Lucky you,” Lucifer scoffed as he started walking again. He realised he had no idea where he was heading and stopped again. “What the fuck am I doing?” he mumbled to himself. He combed a hand through his hair and let it rest at his nape. “Really! Where the fuck am I even going, right now?”

Alastor tilted his head and looked in the direction of where he’d been heading, before he turned back to Lucifer. “You need a break.”

“I need a vacation,” Lucifer corrected him with a huff. “But I already had a vacation five weeks ago, and taking another one when everything is going to shit wouldn’t be a too popular decision.” He regarded Alastor with a tired look. “I just wish this shit would calm down. I don’t know how to make them all stop being idiots.”

Alastor took a few steps closer to him. “Well, not everyone,” he said as he placed a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “Some demons have been reported to try and actually help them out up there.”

“Really?” Lucifer said doubtfully. He hadn’t heard anything about it.

“Yes,” Alastor confirmed, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Lucifer appreciated the comfort. “I heard it from Charlie this morning when I went to help her out with a couple of the guests at the hotel. They wanted to go check out Heaven before they decided if they wanted to get redeemed, and apparently came across some demons trying to harass someone while they were there.”

Lucifer stared at him. “Too bad there aren’t too many of those,” he muttered, placing his hand over Alastor’s.

“We’ll find a solution,” Alastor assured him with a gentle grin. “Until then, I believe we’ll just have to live with the bad reputation.”

Lucifer huffed. “As per usual.” He moved his hand enough to be able to kiss Alastor’s knuckles, before he gave his hand one last pat and let him go. “At least we’re used to it.”

The sound of his phone going off made him grumble and pick it out of his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID and wanted nothing more than to hang up immediately. He barely had time to answer before Leviathan’s incredibly annoying voice came through the speakers and asked him if he could take a quick trip to Envy. Lucifer was moments away from telling him to go fuck himself, but Alastor snatched the phone out of his hands.

“He’s busy,” Alastor said into the microphone and hung up, handing the phone back to Lucifer.

“Am I?” Lucifer asked, only for Alastor to hum in confirmation and start pushing him in the direction of the library. Lucifer didn’t feel like he had time for it, but the moment he tried to move out of Alastor’s hold, a shadow tentacle wrapped itself around his waist and frogmarched him down the hall. “Al,” Lucifer said, trying half-heartedly to get rid of the tendril.

Alastor walked calmly beside him with his hands behind his back. His grin widened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Al,” Lucifer tried again.

“Lucifer,” Alastor replied curtly as they turned the corner.

“I don’t have time for this,” Lucifer stated, still not actually trying to get out of the shadow’s hold. “I mean it. I’ve got a meeting with Satan in an hour.”

“I’ll get Nix to cancel it,” Alastor said as they continued to move through the palace. Lucifer was about to keep arguing when the same, damned circus ringtone blasted from his speakers.

He saw the irritation on Alastor’s face when he answered. “Hello?” he asked grumpily.

“Hello, Your Majesty. I was wondering if you’d be up for an interview—” the voice of Katie Killjoy said cheerily.

He hung up. “How the fuck did they get my number?” he snarled, hurrying to block the number. Alastor brought him around another corner and up a narrow flight of stairs. He almost stumbled on the steps, but Alastor’s shadow steadied him the entire way up. “I swear. If one more motherfucker calls me right now, I’m smashing this phone to—” the phone went off in his hand, and he immediately answered it and pressed it to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?!” he snapped.

“Oh! Uhm, I just…”

Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath when he realised who it was. “Oh, fu-sh—Rosalie! I’m so sorry—”

Alastor picked the phone out of his hands again. “Let me, dear,” he said and held it up to his ear. “Hello, Manman,” Alastor greeted sweetly. Lucifer smiled apologetically up at him as his husband slowed down their brisk walk towards the library. “No, he’s alright. He’s just stressed,” he muttered, pausing and listening to his mother talking. “That would be lovely, but I’m afraid we’re still trying to get a grip on this demon situation. Though, I’ll come for a visit in a few days if I get the chance.”

“Tell her I’m sorry,” Lucifer whisper-yelled up at him. “And that I’d love to come for a visit, too, if I have time for it.”

“I’ll bring him,” Alastor said, clearly not planning on leaving him in Hell no matter what he had to do. He smiled a little to himself as they walked down the gallery overlooking one of the bigger rooms. It was more of a ballroom for small parties and such, but it was rarely used. “Yes, I’ll tell him to stop being an idiot and take a break once in a while.”

“She didn’t say that,” Lucifer huffed.

“She did,” Alastor said. He paused, turning back to his conversation. “What was that?” His expression turned a little sour. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him as they turned down a narrow corridor. “Yes, yes, my apologies. I’ll tell him when I hang up.” There was another pause. Alastor pursed his lips before he turned to Lucifer. “She said I had to tell you she didn’t call you an idiot.”

“Thought so.” Lucifer grinned, which turned strained when he felt the tentacle wrapped around his waist tighten its hold on him to the point where he couldn’t breathe properly.

“Yes, I’ll see you in a few days,” Alastor finished, before he gave Lucifer a quick glance through the corner of his eye and cleared his throat. “I love you, too,” he mumbled. Lucifer couldn’t help the smug grin that spread across his face. “Bye.” Alastor hung up. “Shut up,” he said and crushed the phone in his hands and tossed the remains over his shoulder.

That wiped the smug grin off of Lucifer’s face. “Oh, come on!” he complained with a wheeze, the tentacle not letting up on the pressure. “I needed that!”

“No, you didn’t,” Alastor scoffed as they arrived at the door to the library. He opened it and went inside, bringing Lucifer with him. “What you need is a proper day of relaxation so you don’t end up yelling at the guests tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t going to yell at the guests tomorrow,” Lucifer grumbled as Alastor brought him over to the couch.

“You just yelled at my mother,” Alastor pointed out, making Lucifer splutter out another string of words that didn’t make much sense and certainly didn’t help. He stopped when Alastor gave him a stern look. “We’ve been in the same state before, and you know that doesn’t end well,” Alastor said as he more or less placed Lucifer down on the couch, holding him there with his shadow and giving him a look as if asking him if he was going to stay put or run away.

Lucifer grumbled as he brought his legs up onto the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know,” he uttered grumpily.

The tentacle let go of him and Alastor moved around the couch so he was behind him, before he placed his hands on either side of Lucifer’s temples and tilted his head backwards. He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, before he let go of him and stepped over to the bookshelf. Lucifer kept his head resting on the backrest, watching his husband move around upside down.

“Is there anything you’d like to read?” Alastor asked as he browsed the shelves.

“Not really,” Lucifer muttered, eyes following his partner as he stepped over to another shelf and picked out a book. “I can barely keep my eyes open, if I’m being honest. If I try to read something…” he trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t think I’d be up for it.”

Alastor turned the book around in his hand and read the back of it, before he tilted his head and put it back. He picked out another one and did the same with that; reading the back and putting it in the shelf, again. Lucifer felt himself calm down slightly as he watched him, especially when he started humming a little tune. It made Lucifer smile.

“You’re going to get neck pain if you keep looking at me like that,” Alastor said as he let his shadow bring out a book from one of the higher shelves. He let it drop into his hands and turned it around in his hands. “Hmm, this one’s odd.”

“Is it?” Lucifer asked, before he noticed what book he was holding. “Oh.”

Alastor stayed quiet for a moment before he turned around to look at him. “Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

“Well, I could, but I would be lying,” Lucifer replied with a warm smile. He watched as Alastor kept staring at him before he glanced back down at the book in his hands. He stepped slowly over to the couch and around it, before he sat down on the edge of the seat. Lucifer straightened back up, turned so he was facing him and rested his hands in his lap.

Alastor glanced at him before he looked back at the book in his hands. “Am I going to find anything inside it?”

“Possibly a bad drawing,” Lucifer said softly.

Alastor huffed, running a finger along the edges of the cover before he flipped it open. Lucifer felt the smile spread across his cheeks as his husband read the little note at the beginning of the book.

“And my horrible attempt at writing,” he added quietly as Alastor flipped the page carefully. “I never got the hang of it.”

Alastor just hummed distractedly as he kept reading. Lucifer leaned sideways against the back of the couch as he observed him. If it had been a few years earlier, he’d have been a nervous wreck at that point. And waiting for rejection, of course.

“You really wrote me an entire book about what you like about me?” Alastor asked as he finally looked up at Lucifer.

“No, I ran out of nice things to say after a few pages,” he replied as he rested his head in his hand. “So, I went with all the things I hate about you, instead.” He smirked. “That’s the rest of it.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at him, but turned back to the book in his hands and flipped the page, continuing to skim through. Lucifer kept watching him, seeing him fight the grin that apparently wanted to spread across his cheeks. He seemed to get stuck at some parts, slowing his reading before he kept going. He paused when he flipped the page and saw the first drawing. Lucifer’s grin widened as he scooted a little closer.

“…I thought you said the rest of it was filled with all the things you hate about me?” Alastor said as he showed him the page of a silhouetted drawing of him. Lucifer had used a lot of time on it.

“I never said I wrote all the things I hate about you,” he replied. When a confused wrinkle formed on Alastor’s brow, he smiled. “I hated how pretty you looked from that angle,” Lucifer explained in a soft murmur.

Alastor slammed the book shut. “Lucifer.”

“Al.”

“You can’t just—” Alastor cut himself off with a grumble. He stared down at the book before he sighed and opened it back up. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“I clearly hate you quite a lot, too,” Lucifer said, gesturing to the book.

Alastor said nothing as he tilted his head forwards enough so that his hair fell in front of his face. It hadn’t taken long for Lucifer to understand that he did it whenever he blushed, and with that thought in mind, he chortled gently and moved just a little bit closer. He was still giving him space, though. He didn’t want to overwhelm him, especially not when he was faced with a lot of raw emotions in the form of drawings.

Lucifer had used so much time on that book. He’d had to make sure that Alastor didn’t find it while he was working on it, which was a difficult task in itself. He’d actually started on it before he watched Alastor get hit in the face by the bouquet at Charlie and Vaggie’s wedding. Every single page had another angle, another situation, another expression. Every drawing was completely unique, and while some were mostly just quick sketches, some were also painted.

Alastor stopped at one of the painted ones, tracing the lines carefully. “This is from…” he trailed off, before he brushed his hair out of his face to look at Lucifer (and Lucifer decided he had another drawing to draw that he would have to sneak into the book, somehow).

Lucifer glanced at the painting. “Yeah,” he muttered. “The time I saved you from those arrows. You looked particularly shitty.”

Alastor snorted, before his smile fell slightly as he looked back at the painting. “It’s the moment I decided I wanted to try,” he replied quietly. Lucifer felt his heart stutter in his chest as he looked at him. He didn’t know what to say. He’d never asked him when he’d ended up accepting his feelings or why. He’s always loved that moment because it was the first time Alastor had called him ‘love’. It had been the moment they truly got together, and thus it had seared itself into Lucifer’s memory to the point where he could see every detail and every smear of grime and dirt on his partner’s face when he closed his eyes. At the time, all Lucifer had thought about was keeping him safe, but after that? Well... “I saw you shielding me from those damned arrows and I couldn’t find a single reason why I shouldn’t just go for it.”

Lucifer’s heart kept stumbling and stuttering in his chest as he stared at him. “I never knew,” he mumbled as he glanced down at the page. “I thought it was from bringing you on that little rollercoaster ride over in the lava caves.”

“Your flying is good, but not that good,” Alastor said as he turned the page, again. “Almost, though,” he added under his breath so Lucifer could barely hear him.

Lucifer pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. Alastor kept going through the book, pausing at every other picture. Especially the ones Lucifer got really happy with. The ones that had that extra, little spark of something that Lucifer knew was just from pure love for his husband. It had been there for a long time.

Alastor got through the entire book and flipped to the last page. He snorted at the bad drawing at the end of Lucifer down on one knee holding a ring. Lucifer remembered drawing it after finishing the book. He’d contemplated drawing it much better, but because of their history of shitty drawings, he felt it needed the same shitty feel to it as the ones they kept giving each other, also after they got engaged and also just these last few weeks of married life. It was a nice way to communicate or give each other a small reminder that they were thinking of each other. It was sappy as fuck, but Lucifer loved it.

“When did you finish this?” Alastor asked as he closed the book. The carefully painted, golden letters at the back of it simply said “For Al,” which was apparently what got Alastor to realise what it was. Either that, or it was the front of the book with its intricate, engraved radio, gilded with gold. It was a bit on the nose, Lucifer realised.

“About a year before I first asked you to marry me,” Lucifer admitted. He held his hand out for the book and Alastor handed it to him.

“And how long has it been in here?” Alastor continued.

“Just as long,” Lucifer replied as he started to flip through the pages.

Alastor stared at him. “Did you seriously just wait for me to find it?”

“I didn’t think it would take this long, if I’m being honest, and then I forgot I put it in here,” he confessed as he gave Alastor the book back. “It would’ve been a much better way to actually propose to you, but yeah… I think I was a little stressed when I put it here, so I just shoved it into the shelf and hoped you would find it one day.” He tilted his head a bit. “And then you got a face full of flowers, and I decided I didn’t want to wait until you found it, just in case you wanted to, you know, get married.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “We were rarely at the palace back then,” he said as he got up from his seat. “The chances of me finding it would’ve been quite low. Unless you brought me here and guided me to it.”

“Well, it’s yours to keep if you want it,” Lucifer muttered as Alastor walked back over to the shelf and let his shadow swallow the book, travel up onto the highest shelf and let the book reappear in the corner.

“Unless this is only your library, I’d like to keep it in here,” Alastor said as he turned around with a sly grin. Lucifer shrugged and hugged his knees a little tighter.

It felt strange knowing he’d actually found the book. It probably felt more special getting it now that they were actually married, instead of earlier when the two of them were still relatively new to their relationship and Lucifer wasn’t sure if Alastor even wanted to get married in the first place. This way it felt more like a proper tribute to him. Something that his husband could appreciate more, now, without the emotional uncertainty ruining it for him.

Alastor hummed as he walked back over to the couch and leaned over the back of it. “Thank you,” he said. Lucifer smiled at him with the most love-filled smile he could muster. He could see the way Alastor wanted to roll his eyes. “I have a suggestion.”

“Suggest away,” Lucifer said.

“We were supposed to have that spa day, but then we never got the chance because of that idiotic situation with Mammon,” Alastor grumbled, looking like he actually thought it had been a proper shame that they hadn’t gotten to do the spa day they’d planned mostly just for fun. It had started out as a joke, to be honest, and suddenly they found themselves out in the city on a small shopping spree. It hadn’t even started as a spa-day-shopping-spree, but rather Lucifer wanting to build a small bookshelf he could hang on the wall and needing materials (he’d felt it was more fun to build it properly instead of just doing it the easy way). They’d just ended up going into a beauty shop where they’d gotten way more things than they strictly needed, and then they’d never had time to use it because of Mammon being, as Alastor mentioned, an idiot.

“I think I know where you’re going with this,” Lucifer said, leaning sideways until he was sitting against the backrest, face inches away from his husband’s.

“Are you in?” Alastor murmured.

Lucifer grinned sharply. “Lead the way.”

Alastor dipped forwards, closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together as his shadow consumed them and brought them out of the room. They sped through the palace and up to their wing.

Lucifer had moved rooms after they’d gotten married, deciding that having his new husband where his old wife once slept felt a bit too strange.

It ended up with the two of them creating something together, with Alastor’s bayou integrated into the bedroom, as well as just having a bunch of apple décor hidden into the details. Half the room looked like a regular bedroom with a mix between their two styles (so, basically Alastor’s more vintage-looking furniture and Lucifer’s circus décor- which Alastor still wasn’t happy about), and the other half being another bayou with a few apple trees sprinkled in here and there.

Lucifer felt himself emerge from Alastor’s shadow, only for his husband to grip his arm and spin him into a dance. Lucifer snickered as Alastor brought him around and the scratchy sound of music filled the air around them. It was quite the upbeat tune, and Lucifer kept giggling as his husband dipped him low, before bringing him back up. Alastor pressed a quick peck to his cheek and let go of him, before he stepped into the bathroom. Lucifer unbuttoned his jacket and slipped it off, throwing it on the bed. He got his bowtie off and placed it with the jacket and rolled up his sleeves, before he slipped off his boots.

With that done, he stretched his hands above his head, feeling like he was already much calmer than he’d been in days. He’d somehow almost forgotten about the intense stress he’d been under for the last few weeks, and while there was this thought in the back of his mind that people were probably trying to get a hold of him, he knew Alastor was right about him needing a break. If only to be able to think clearly.

That reminded him about the meeting he was supposed to have with Satan, and he hurried over to the door and snapped his fingers. He opened the door and waited, before he saw one from the palace staff come hurrying around the corner. He was a little surprised it wasn’t Nix.

“Hi, Suzie,” Lucifer greeted the young imp. “Could you get Nix to cancel my meeting with Satan? I’m taking the rest of the day off, so if someone comes knocking, tell them I’ll be available again tomorrow before the party.” He paused, before he changed his mind. “Actually, tell them to fuck off until after the party.”

“Nix is on vacation, Your Majesty,” Suzie said, and Lucifer felt surprised that he hadn’t noticed.

“Oh,” he said. “Then get one of the others. Unless you want to try and talk to him, but he can be a bit explosive when he gets mad,” he informed her with a sheepish smile. It was the understatement of the millennia. Satan had never liked Lucifer, especially when he was the one who’d been taking care of Hell while Lucifer was off doing… other things, only for Lucifer to come back and suddenly take the throne seriously. To say Satan wasn’t happy about it was, well… He would be even more unhappy with Lucifer cancelling on him last minute. “On second thought, get one of the others to do it.”

Suzie blinked at him. “Okay?” she drawled. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

“Fantastic,” Lucifer said with a grin and went back into his room when she gave him a nod and hurried down the hallway. He came face to face with Alastor when he turned around, making Lucifer jump a little. He’d taken off his coat and shoes, and rolled up his pant cuffs until they were right below his knees. He held a foot basin filled with towels and other things they’d bought. “Got everything?”

“Indeed,” Alastor replied.

Lucifer reached up and tapped his nose before moving past him and into the bayou. Alastor followed after him until they got to a particularly dark part of the woods. It wasn’t that far away from the main room, but far enough that no one would think anyone would hide a room in there. Which, of course, they had.

Lucifer went past one of the apple trees, snatching an apple from one of the branches and biting into it. He rounded another tree, finding the dark, mahogany door leading into their special place. No one knew about the room except for the two of them, which was great when you wanted to hide from your responsibilities. Or a mad sin who wanted to break you in half for cancelling a meeting at short notice.

He opened the door as he took another bite of his apple and held it open for Alastor so he could bring the things into the hidden living room, before following him and closing the door behind him. The small living room wasn’t huge, but it was a good substitute for the small sitting areas they had in their suites at the hotel. A couch stood in front of a grand fireplace. A coffee table was placed between the fireplace and the couch. A corner cabinet stood in the far corner, filled with different glasses and some drinks. Lucifer had created a fridge in the bottom part of it just to keep their beverages cool.

A wine rack was placed under the shelf Lucifer had built, which housed a few books the two of them had been reading. They’d ended up picking out a couple of the books from the library only to bring them back to the little living room away from the rest of Hell, just to read them with the gramophone player crackling in the background while sharing a bottle of wine after a long day.

Lucifer went straight over to the cabinet while he finished his apple and let the core vanish out of existence. “Anything you want, tonight?”

“Nothing in particular,” Alastor said while placing down the things he’d been holding on the table. “Surprise me.”

Lucifer hummed as he took out a couple of wine glasses and got one of the more expensive wines from the wine rack. He went back to the couch and placed the glasses down, before he walked over to the fireplace. He gave the hearth a glance, and it burst into flames. A couple of candles stood on the top of the fireplace, and Lucifer quickly lit them up, too, and stepped back over to the couch where he slumped down beside Alastor.

He opened the wine bottle by jabbing his claw into the cork and pulling it out. He poured it into the glasses and slid one of them over to Alastor, who’d taken out the towels. He rolled one up and handed it to Lucifer, who placed it around his shoulders and let it heat up with his powers. It felt delightful, and he ended up leaning back against the couch with his eyes closed, sighing.

“Enjoying yourself?” Alastor asked him as he got the gramophone player going with a snap of his fingers.

“Yeah, thanks,” Lucifer muttered. “Much better than sitting in a meeting.”

Alastor huffed and picked up a towel of his own, placing it around his shoulders. He grabbed the nail file and leaned back in his seat. Lucifer glanced at him, seeing the snake around his finger turn to look at the file with interest. Alastor let Louisa inspect it, before he started filing his claws to sharpen them.

Lucifer had to admit seeing the two of them get along was really sweet. He’d been worried that Alastor would hate having a living creature wrapped around his finger, at first. He almost made a regular snake ring for him, instead, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to give him something extra special. The tiny snake had been born from his halo, and had been hiding in his hair for a few weeks before the wedding.

The two of them had apparently bonded pretty quickly. Especially when Alastor truly got to experience what the little snake could do. She was a proper power house when she needed to be. The memory of Alastor crashing through the doors to the library just to tell him excitedly about how the snake had eaten someone still made Lucifer smile. Of course, it wasn’t the only thing she could do, and he was looking forward to when Alastor figured out the rest of it.

Lucifer picked up the foot basin and placed it on the floor in front of him, before letting it fill with warm water. He’d been walking around every single day for weeks, and while his feet couldn’t really ache, it was nice to let his hooves soak so he could give them a proper pedicure.

He took a sip of his wine and felt a shift in the atmosphere beside him. He didn’t even need to turn his head to know who was sitting beside him on the armrest. Especially not when he saw the small shadow moving between Alastor and him and up onto the backrest.

“Seems we have company,” Lucifer said, making Alastor glance over to the duck sitting on the backrest between the two of them.

“Seems we do,” he replied. “I thought they were supposed to be at the hotel?”

The furby sitting beside Lucifer laughed and moved back and forth in a little dance.

Lucifer turned to it. “You shut up or I’ll throw you in the fire,” he warned it. “This is our spot, not yours.”

“It knows you’d never do that,” Alastor muttered as he turned his attention back to his fingers.

“I can still teleport it somewhere it can’t escape from on its own,” Lucifer stated, before he felt something slap the back of his head. “I won’t,” he promised the rubbed duck who’d apparently hit him with one of its shadow tentacles. He could’ve sworn it grinned a little wider at him. “You’re not the one who had to listen to that damned thing,” he said to Alastor, who just kept filing his nails. “I just can’t deal with it right now.”

“Da-noh-lah, me no-may-may u-nye,” the furby said.

“Thank you,” Lucifer replied, seeing Alastor give him the side-eye. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alastor muttered as he reached over to the table and picked up his wine glass. “I’m just surprised you actually know what it says.”

“Of course, I do,” Lucifer huffed. “Dad knows I had enough time on my hands to learn it through all the sleepless nights it gave me,” he grumbled. “It was an okay conversation partner, though. Kept the time moving faster than if I just had to listen to it laugh non-stop.”

“I believe I should apologise,” Alastor said, sipping to his wine.

Lucifer frowned. “Why?”

“Well, you didn’t really need less sleep during that time.” Alastor glanced at him. “It was completely deliberate. Furbies are notorious for being chatty at night.”

Lucifer looked at the furby. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway, Al,” he said. “This guy gave me someone to talk to, at least.” He grinned at him. “It became my friend after a while, actually.”

Alastor still looked a little sceptical and apologetic, and Lucifer sighed. “Face mask?” he offered, picking up the face mask bottle and waving it front of Alastor. His husband put down his wine and Lucifer did the same. Alastor got a hair tie out of his void and pulled as much as he could of his hair into a ponytail. Lucifer only saw him do it every once in a while, and he had to stop himself from shuffling closer and kiss him. He created some rubber-duck-yellow barrettes. “Might want to get more of it out of the way,” he said, offering the clips.

Alastor glanced at them, before he scooted closer to him and brought his legs up into the couch, crossing them as he faced Lucifer. He did no move towards the barrettes.

“Hold them, at least,” Lucifer huffed, handing Alastor the hair clips. He only kept one of them as he brushed his fingers against Alastor’s bangs. He combed through it, pulling it back and out of his face, before securing the locks of hair with the pin. Alastor handed him another one, which he used to secure the bangs a little better. After that, he tried to push the hair at the side of his face out of the way—the parts that didn’t reach the ponytail, and secured them, as well.

When he was done getting Alastor’s hair out of his face, he took a second to admire him, because of course he did, before he picked up the bottle from the table, again. He opened the lid and squeezed out some of it and started applying it to his husband’s face. The cold, white goop made Alastor wrinkle his nose.

“You know,” Lucifer said as he got more of the face mask liquid on his fingers and smeared it over Alastor’s forehead and temple, and down over his cheeks. “You could put your hair up more often.”

“Really?” Alastor asked, cracking one of his eyes open to look at him. “You don’t find it strange?”

“I think it looks really good on you,” Lucifer muttered. Alastor hummed quietly in contemplation as Lucifer finished getting the face mask on him. He got rid of what was left on his fingers by smearing it across his own cheek. “Could you help me, too?” he asked Alastor, who opened his eyes properly, and picked the bottle out of his hands. He brushed a stray hair out of his face, before he gave him the same treatment Lucifer had given him.

“I’ll consider it,” Alastor said after a moment. “Maybe here at the palace. I don’t know about outside.”

“Sure, wherever you’d like. It looks sporty,” Lucifer said.

“Sporty?” Alastor asked incredulously.

“I couldn’t come up with a better description,” Lucifer admitted, making Alastor snort. “Handsome?” he tried instead. “Nice? Pretty? Strange but eye-catching? Beautiful?” He opened his eye to see his husband’s reaction, noticing his clenched jaw. “And that’s just when you don’t have your hair up.”

“Shut up,” Alastor grumbled, making Lucifer snicker.

“Let me admire you, man,” he huffed back. “I think you enjoy it a little bit, at least,” he added with a smirk. When Alastor’s smile wobbled, Lucifer grinned wider. “I see you smiling.”

“I always smile, you nitwit.”

“I know it when it’s a real one.”

“Do you, now?” Alastor tilted his head, grinning and clearly showing off his sharp teeth in warning.

“I’ve known you for a while,” Lucifer pointed out, feeling his fingers sticking together a bit from the face mask. He waited for Alastor to finish covering his face before he bent down and washed the excess goop off of his hands with the water from his foot bath. Alastor dried his off on his towel, instead. “Did you get the cucumber?”

“I did not,” Alastor said. “But I have a knife.”

Lucifer chuckled as he let a cucumber spawn in his hand and handed it over to Alastor, who got a knife out of his void and started cutting up the green vegetable into thin slices. He ate one of them before he handed Lucifer a couple. Lucifer leaned back and put them over his eyes, sighing contentedly as he felt the mask start to dry up. He could hear Alastor keep chewing down on a few more slices.

“You’re eating the spa equipment,” Lucifer drawled.  

“Well, I didn’t have time for lunch, today,” Alastor replied as he chewed.

Lucifer lifted up one of his cucumber eye-patches to look at him. Most of the vegetable was gone by then. “Do you want me to get you something?”

“Why don’t you go and get both of us something? I’ve got a feeling you didn’t eat much today, either,” Alastor said as he placed two of his slices over his eyes, and leaned back against the couch as he crossed one leg over the other, foot bouncing to the music.

“Give me a moment, then,” Lucifer said and got up. He stepped out of the basin and opened a portal to their kitchen while getting the cucumbers off of his eyes. He stepped through and went over to the fridge and opened it. “Anything you’d like?”

“Do we have any fingers left?”

“Uhm.” Lucifer looked around, pushing a couple of containers of leftover dinner away. “Yes.” He picked the bowl of fingers up, before he eyed the dinner. “We have some leftovers from a couple of days ago, too.”

“The gumbo?” Alastor asked.

“Yeah?”

“Bring it.”

Lucifer picked up the containers and placed the bowl of fingers on top, before he went over to one of the drawers and got them a couple of forks. He made his way back through the portal and over to the couch, again, letting the portal close behind him. He sat down and used his powers to warm up the food in the containers, before he handed one of them, plus the bowl, over to Alastor.

“We really need to get better at having proper lunch,” Lucifer said gruffly as he popped the lid and stirred the food around.

“It’s starting to feel a lot like it was back then,” Alastor replied through a mouthful. He was eating a finger like a breadstick on the side.

Lucifer had to agree. Right after the empowerment, the two of them had been too busy to do much more than run around and try to prevent the war from starting. They’d barely had time to do anything, like having a regular eating schedule or just getting enough sleep in general. With the portals open and all the things going on with the demons causing havoc, it had started to feel eerily similar to back before the war.

“It is,” Lucifer muttered. “At least it feels slightly easier to put everything on hold, this time.”

“Absolutely,” Alastor agreed. “But I feel like you’d be at that meeting with Satan if I hadn’t intervened.”

“And I’d still have a phone,” Lucifer said dryly, giving him a look.

“A necessary sacrifice for some peace and quiet, don’t you think?” Alastor asked, taking a sip of his wine. He wrinkled his nose. “That face mask smells awful, I must say.”

“Yeah, probably some weird chemicals in it,” Lucifer said as he took another bite of his leftover dinner. “How long was it supposed to stay on?”

“I can’t imagine more than half an hour or so. I don’t know,” he hummed. “Do we have any news on the contracts?”

Lucifer sighed. “Not really. Finding a proper standard for them is going to take a while, and I don’t think we’re any closer to deciding what to do with the demons, yet.”

“I still say sending them back via Limbo would be the best option,” Alastor stated. “A punishment as well as a way back to Hell.”

“They wouldn’t remember it,” Lucifer muttered. “It’s why they can be sent back there, time and time again, without getting out any faster. They just forget how to do it.”

“How convenient,” Alastor replied as he finished his dinner and picked up the bowl of fingers. “And you still think just sending them back to Hell is too little of a punishment?”

“Would they learn if they just got sent back?” Lucifer questioned.

“Take away their right to go there,” Alastor said as he placed the cucumber slices back over his eyes and nibbled on one of the fingers. “The consequences have to be bad enough for them not to want to get in trouble.”

Lucifer sighed. “For how long, though? Eternity seems too harsh, but anything else wouldn’t have as much of an impact on them. Not for eternal beings.”

“Have them do something to unlock the possibility to go back,” Alastor suggested. “We take away their freedom to travel, and to get it back, they have to show they won’t just go straight back to vandalism and kidnapping.”

“Easily faked, though, isn’t it?” Lucifer asked, making Alastor grimace.

“Death, then,” Alastor said.

“Ah, yes, people would love that,” Lucifer drawled. “Execution for painting a dick on a wall.” He could see Alastor smile a little wider at the thought. “People wouldn’t believe it until the first one died.”

“It would take some time before someone understood it was from the vandalism. We could add it to the contract, but there are certainly quite a few who can’t read, down here,” Alastor huffed. “Uninformed execution. I mean, it would be quite a lot of fun to watch, I’m not going to lie.”

Lucifer snorted as he placed his own container down on the table and leaned back. He saw Alastor get Louisa to swap hands, before he offered his hand to Lucifer. Lucifer took it, feeling his husband intertwine their fingers. He got a little closer to him and put the cucumber slices back over his eyes with his free hand, before he yawned and rested his head on the backrest.

“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, feeling like he was about to fall asleep. He could hear Alastor hum quietly. He wanted to remind him about getting the face masks off in case they dozed off, but he couldn’t get himself to say anything. He felt so utterly exhausted after the previous weeks with things constantly going on around him, and right then, sitting there and holding his husband’s hand, he felt himself lose the fight against the darkness at the edge of his consciousness. He could only hope Alastor would wake him up when they had to get the masks off.

Lucifer woke up with Alastor’s head on his shoulder and still holding his hand. He tried to open his eyes, only to find the cucumbers still there, so he reached up and picked them off of his face. He cracked his eyes open, staring at the dried-up slices blearily, blinking sluggishly before tossing them on the table. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but the face mask felt like it had gotten fused to his skin, and he’d much rather go to sleep without feeling like his entire face had been covered in plastic.

He yawned, deciding to close his eyes for just a little while longer, resting his head against Alastor’s. It made his husband wake up, too, apparently. Alastor stirred, breathed in before he let it back out in a content sigh and melted against Lucifer’s side. Lucifer watched him reach up and get his own cucumber slices off of his eyes before eating them.

“We forgot to take the masks off,” Alastor murmured groggily. He found the edge of the mask and tried to pull it off, only to pause. Lucifer felt him tense up as his movement got more frantic. “Lucifer.”

“What?” Lucifer asked, feeling Alastor let go of his hand before pushing himself up. Alastor’s hands were moving around the edges of the mask—which had turned clear during their sleep, Lucifer noted, as if trying to find a place where he could get his finger under it to pull it off. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t get it off,” Alastor said.

Lucifer tried to frown, but his own mask stopped him. “What?”

“I can’t get it off,” Alastor repeated with a hiss.

Lucifer reached up to try it himself, getting his claws hooked at the edges of his own mask and pulling, only to feel his skin get pulled with it. He trailed a finger along the edge of it, but he found nowhere where he could somehow sneak his finger under the mask. He even tried up by his eyes, but once again, his skin wanted to join the mask.

“What the fuck?” Lucifer said, gaze landing on the bottle. He reached for it as he saw Alastor start ripping a little more harshly. He heard something snap, and paused in his reach to see blood pour down from Alastor’s forehead where his claws had apparently sunk into his own skin and managed to get the top of the mask off… And bringing the skin with it. “Oh, my fucking dad…” Lucifer uttered breathlessly, completely forgetting about the bottle as he met Alastor’s wide eyes. “Did you just…?”

“What kind of face mask is this?” Alastor asked while the blood kept running down over his nose and the sides of his face. It seemed to slow down at least a little bit, but not enough.

“You’re not healing,” Lucifer said instead of answering, feeling like that was a much more dire thing to point out. Alastor’s eyes widened further as he pressed his hands against the ripped flesh, trying to stem the bleeding. It worked a little bit, but it still kept coming.

Lucifer picked up the bottle and read the back of it, eyes skimming over the text. “It says it’ll dry in about ten to thirty minutes,” he muttered. “How long did we—” he cut himself off as he saw the next words following the drying time. “…It will cure in twenty-four hours?” he said, turning the bottle around. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Alastor asked.

“Uhm,” Lucifer said smartly, holding the front of the bottle up so Alastor could read it.

“Wood glue?!” he exclaimed incredulously as he grabbed the bottle out of his hands. The lack of pressure on his forehead made more blood run down his face. “Are you kidding me?!”

“Now with even better demon-proofing,” Lucifer recalled sheepishly, earning himself a seething glare. “Sorry.”

“How in the ever-living fuck did you mix up a face mask bottle with wood glue?” Alastor snarled, chucking the bottle right back at Lucifer, who caught it, only for it to almost slip out of his hands. He swallowed thickly as he glanced over his shoulder at the shelf he’d built. He’d wondered why the glue had smelled so nicely.

“They looked similar,” Lucifer said lamely.

“Oh, did they?” Alastor said pleasantly, smile turning extra sharp even if the mask—well, glue, hindered him from letting it widen much more than his natural smile.

Lucifer didn’t answer as he glanced down at the bottle in his hands, reading the ingredients list. He felt like he needed to figure out why Alastor couldn’t heal himself. While he read, he moved his other hand up to his face, feeling the glue under his fingers. He tried to use his powers to remove it, but it didn’t work, worryingly enough.

He found the reason a moment later. Apparently, the only way to make demons unable to break something was to put some angelic solution in it. That still didn’t tell him why Alastor was unable to heal the part of his skin that hadn’t been in contact with the glue, though.

“It’s filled with angelic dust or something,” Lucifer informed Alastor, who looked like he wanted to rip his head off of his shoulders. “Yeah, this is really bad,” he muttered as he got up from his seat. “Maybe we’ll be able to wash it off?”

Alastor growled as he stood, moving right over to the door and opening it, nodding for Lucifer to join him. Lucifer grinned apologetically on his way past him, before the two of them hurried through the bayou and back to their bedroom. Lucifer glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand and stopped dead in his tracks. His heart sped up.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” Alastor snapped as he walked around him and to the bathroom door.

“It’s past 4pm,” he said, turning to look at Alastor. “The gala is in less than an hour. We overslept!”

Alastor stared at him, then at the clock, and then down at his own, bloody hands, before once again meeting Lucifer’s eyes.

The two of them launched themselves forward and into the bathroom. They rushed over to the sink, turning the tap. Lucifer didn’t bother waiting for it to get warm, instead plunging his hands into the stream of water before splashing his face. It did nothing. He got some soap and tried to rub it onto the glue. Still nothing. He quickly rinsed the soap off.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck,” Lucifer swore as he tried to use his claws to pick at the glue, but when he did, he only felt the skin underneath tug painfully.

It took him a moment to realise Alastor wasn’t frantically trying to get his own glue mask off. He slowed his frantic picking, glancing over at his husband in the mirror and seeing him stare intensely at himself. To Lucifer’s horror, Alastor reached up to where he’d managed to rip his skin just moments earlier.

“No,” Lucifer said.

“Yes,” Alastor replied. “I’m not showing up to that damned gala looking like this.”

“You’re not ripping your face off!” Lucifer exclaimed.

“It’s better than the alternative!” Alastor crackled back.

Lucifer latched onto his arm, stopping him from being able to do more damage. “It’s not worth it! I have the same fucking shit on my face! We’ll match!”

Alastor turned to glare at him. “There’s cute couple matching, and then there’s dumbass couple matching!” he sneered. “I’d rather die and get redeemed again than be the latter!”

Lucifer spluttered, not sure how to respond to that.

“Trust me, I will rip my face off and then yours, just so we won’t end up showing ourselves in public with this—” he gestured to his face, “—smeared all over our faces.”

Lucifer grimaced. “We’ll be wearing our skulls out in the open,” he pointed out.

Alastor didn’t answer. Instead, his hands shot forwards and grabbed onto the edges of where the glue was stuck to Lucifer’s face. Lucifer only had the chance to think it was going to hurt before Alastor tugged hard.

It was over before he could react. He stood there, seeing the golden blood dripping from what had to be—

He was pretty sure he was in shock. He was pretty sure Alastor was also in a similar state of shock at what he’d just done, especially when his husband glanced down at the glue-covered piece of skin in his hands. His eyes widened, but only for a moment before Lucifer noticed a determined glint in his eyes. Not a second later, Alastor threw Lucifer’s skin on the counter and grabbed his own face.

And just like that, the two of them stood there, dripping gold and red down on the tiled floor, skulls out in the open.

“This is so much better,” Lucifer said sarcastically as he saw Alastor’s eyes glance down at the skin in his hands. Lucifer glanced at himself in the mirror. He stepped a little closer, seeing the gold continue to drip from the ragged edges of what was left.

“Ouch,” Alastor said.

“What the fuck did you expect?” Lucifer scoffed, looking at his skull for the first time. He got his towel from around his shoulders and wetted it, before gently dabbing away the blood from the white bone. It felt a little futile with how his skin just kept bleeding, but it made him able to actually feel out what was going on with the no-regeneration thing.

He used one of his fingers and ran it along his forehead. He would have narrowed his eyes but there was nothing hiding his eyes. “I can actually feel the damned angel shit,” Lucifer grumbled. “It must’ve seeped through everything and cured during the night.”

“And how do we get it out of our skulls?” Alastor asked, tossing his own face together with Lucifer’s.

“I have no idea,” Lucifer admitted, trying to scrape his nail over his skull to get rid of it. “We don’t really have time to figure it out, either.”

Alastor hissed something through his teeth and got his own towel from around his shoulders, cleaning the blood from his skull. It seemed like it had started to clot around the edges of his face, which Lucifer found slightly relieving. He wouldn’t bleed out from a missing face, but at least it wouldn’t end up with the two of them dripping blood all over the place.

Lucifer willed his blood to clot a little faster, and soon enough, the only thing that could be seen was a ragged, golden edge around his face. He almost considered using a knife or a scalpel just to even out the line a bit, but he decided he didn’t have time for it.

Still, he couldn’t say it looked better than just keeping their faces. It looked stupidly goofy with their eyes still in their sockets.

“We have to get changed,” Alastor said as he put the towel down, apparently happy with how he’d managed to stop his own bleeding. He washed his hands and made his way back out of the bathroom.

Lucifer stared after him, before he turned back to see himself in the mirror. He rinsed off his hands, as well, before he closed the tap and followed Alastor. He’d barely gotten out of the bathroom before a black garment bag came flying at him. He caught it easily enough. However, since he had no eyelids, he couldn’t close his eyes to stop the bag from flopping right into them.

“Damn it,” he grumbled as he got the urge to rub his eye, only to pause right before his hand touched his eyeball. “Fuck,” he added as he put the bag down on the bed and opened it, seeing his red jacket. He really hoped he wouldn’t end up bleeding all over it.

He got it out of the bag and started getting changed. It didn’t take him too long, but his rapidly drying eyes made his already building frustration much worse. He caught himself trying to scratch at the itchiness multiple times just while buttoning up his shirt and securing the bowtie around his neck.

“How do I look?” Alastor asked as he stepped out of their walk-in closet.

“Like a googly-eyed doofus,” Lucifer replied, pulling his jacket on. “If I don’t take your head into consideration? Perfect.”

Alastor grumbled as he reached up and got the barrettes out of his hair, letting his bangs back down. He dragged a hand through it, fixing the slight curl it had from being held down the entire night. He then got the hair tie out and stepped back into the bathroom.

Lucifer got the fine chains secured across his chest before he fixed his bowtie and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. They were really getting pressed on time if they wanted to get there before people started getting mad at them.

Actually, most likely people were already pissed off at them, because Lucifer hadn’t been able to answer his phone since the day before. He grimaced (internally) at the thought as he pulled his shoes on and stepped over to the door, waiting for Alastor to join him.

“Ready?” Lucifer asked when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Let’s go,” Alastor grumbled.

Lucifer opened the door for him.

Someone screamed. Alastor and Lucifer jumped.

“What the fuck?!” Suzie cried out, taking a couple of steps back.

Lucifer shrugged. “Tiny accident.”

“Tiny,” Alastor mocked him with a scoff. Lucifer slapped his arm.

“Is the limo ready?” Lucifer asked Suzie, who seemed to try her best to pull herself together. She grimaced as she glanced between the two of them, before she nodded. “Wonderful,” Lucifer told her before the two of them pushed past her and hurried down the hallway.

At one point, Lucifer just opened a portal to the entrance, letting Alastor get through it before he closed it, again. The guards standing there startled into attention, only to start staring at them in horror as they moved over to the door and out of the palace. The limousine stood there waiting for them, and they hurried down the stairs, seeing Nix open the door for them.

“I thought you were on vacation?” Lucifer asked as Alastor got into the limousine before him.

“My last day was yesterday,” Nix said, completely unfazed by the sight of them. “I heard you took some time off, too, sir?”

“Well, you see how well that went,” Lucifer grumbled before crawling into the car and sitting down next to Alastor. The door slammed closed behind him, and he let out a long sigh as the car started moving. “Fucking Hell,” he muttered, rubbing a finger at the bone under his eyes as if that would help with the itchiness. “I’m going fucking crazy.” He spawned a small bottle of eyedrops and leaned his head back and let a couple of drops hit his eyes. He handed the bottle over to Alastor.

Alastor stared at it, eyes moving from them and to Lucifer, before they gave him a once-over.

“What?” Lucifer asked, feeling like this was about to take a turn for the worse.

“We do look like complete fools,” Alastor said.

“Yeah?” Lucifer replied, crossing one leg over the other. “And what do you reckon we do about it?”

“Do they irritate you?” Alastor asked instead of answering.

“Do what irritate me?” Lucifer asked.

“Your eyes.”

There was an intensity in Alastor’s gaze that he didn’t like, and he started to realise what his husband wanted to do.

“No,” Lucifer said. “Nope, no. No way. What the fuck—no. You’re not actually considering—?”

“I am,” Alastor cut him off, scooting a little closer to him.

“You’re not ripping my eyes out, too,” Lucifer said. Alastor reached up. It looked particularly unnerving with the intense stare and lack of skin. “Stop it,” he said.

“I’ll owe you one,” Alastor said.

Lucifer stared at him (to be honest he couldn’t actually do anything other than stare at that moment). “One is way too little. You already owe me at least three just from ripping my face off.”

“Six, then,” Alastor proposed.

Lucifer mulled it over. “Seven and a cuddle session, and we’ve got a deal.”

“Splendid,” Alastor said. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He reached up, settling his hand close to Lucifer’s eyes. “Try not to bleed.”

“You know, you’re pretty fucked—”

Lucifer didn’t actually finish that sentence, since he had more than enough to focus on, like not bleeding all over himself. He continued to grumble and swear while Alastor finished his work.

Becoming blind was incredibly disorienting. It took him a moment to remember that he had to keep his eyes from regenerating, too. He felt Alastor hold his head still, before something clacked against his forehead.

“Did you just kiss my forehead?” he asked.

“It’s a bit difficult to kiss someone without lips, isn’t it?” Alastor replied. Lucifer felt him move away from him and heard him grunt in pain a moment later.

“What did you do with them, anyway?” Lucifer asked after a moment, bringing his hand up to check out the damage to his eye sockets. At least they weren’t itching anymore, which was a relief. “Just so I don’t slip on—Al… Please tell me you didn’t eat them.” The silence was all he needed to understand that was exactly what he’d done. “Oh, you disgusting fucking bastard,” he huffed.  

“I only ate my own,” Alastor replied, clearly still chewing.

“That’s not any better!” Lucifer exclaimed.

“I kept yours for later,” Alastor continued.

“Alastor.”

“We’re here, sirs,” Nix said from up front, making Lucifer freeze as the car rolled to a stop.

“This is your fault for mixing up the bottles,” Alastor said as he moved closer to Lucifer. Lucifer grumbled, since he couldn’t really argue with that. If he hadn’t, they wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

“Well, I didn’t feel the need to rip my own face off because of it,” Lucifer said gruffly.

He could hear Alastor pause beside him. “Thank you for doing it, anyway,” he murmured close to Lucifer’s ear, before he felt his skull knock against his own’s temple.

Lucifer had no idea how to stay mad at him, so he leaned against his husband with a sigh. “Of course,” he muttered. “Just next time—”

“Next time?”

“—If something similarly stupid happens, I decide what we do.”

Alastor hesitated, before he huffed. “Fine. As long as it’s not an incredibly idiotic idea.”

“Says you,” Lucifer scoffed as the door opened. “Showtime,” he said, moving away from Alastor.

“Need a hand, sir?” Nix asked.

“Eyes would be nice,” he said dryly as he got out of the car. A hush went through the crowd when he straightened his back. “How late are we?”

“About twenty minutes,” Nix informed him. “You’re the last ones to arrive.”

“Well, then,” Lucifer said and turned around and reached into the car. “Can you find my hand, Al?”

“I’m behind you,” Alastor said from behind him.

“Oh.” Lucifer turned around and tried to find him. He guessed Alastor had just gotten out with his shadow, which was definitely the best option. “Where’s your arm, then?”

“Here,” Alastor huffed and grabbed onto Lucifer’s shoulder, before he trailed his hand down his arm and grabbed his wrist, guiding Lucifer’s hand so he could hold onto the crook of his elbow.

“If you go straight, you’ll find the stairs, Your Majesties,” Nix informed them, before he slammed the door shut behind them. “Good luck, sirs. I’ll be back to collect you, later.”

“Thanks,” Lucifer muttered. The crowd of reporters and others was completely silent until the limousine started back up and drove away. After that, someone stuttered out something. The guy clearly had problems figuring out what to ask, and Lucifer didn’t care what it was. “Come on,” he huffed, feeling Alastor start walking forwards.

“This is so much better,” he told him.

“How the fuck is this better?” Lucifer scoffed. He sighed as they moved towards the stairs. “Well, at least we know more or less where we’re going—FUCK!”

His foot got caught on the first step, and he felt Alastor struggle to keep him on his feet. He was pulled back up. His husband sounded like he was trying his best not to start snickering.

“Shut it,” Lucifer hissed as the two of them carefully made their way up the stairs.

“I didn’t say anything,” Alastor said, voice trembling with supressed amusement.

The two of them staggered when there weren’t any more steps left. They’d both tried to keep going up. It was a shorter staircase than the one at their own palace, Lucifer remembered.

They grumbled as they moved through the doors. They stopped walking right after entering.

“Where are we going?” Alastor asked.

“It’s been a while since I was here last,” Lucifer replied. “Straight, I think?”

They walked straight into a wall.

“This is going to be a long night,” Alastor grumbled as he turned them around.

They followed the wall as they made their way through Stolas’ palace. It took them a great deal longer to get to the ballroom that what would’ve been necessary, but they got there in the end after running into yet another wall, a pillar, broke three vases and stumbled over an imp. Lucifer heard the voices from the other guests get louder from where they were gathered, until they were right by the door. He had a feeling it was open given the way everyone fell quiet.

“What the fuck?!” Stolas exclaimed.

“A long night, indeed,” Lucifer muttered.

At least he didn’t have to see them, Lucifer thought as the two of them joined the rest.

This comic has been done for months XD

Chapter Text

It went like always. He was in a room filled with thick fog, trying to orient himself to no avail. He knew he had to find Lucifer somehow, but he never did. He sometimes heard him, other times he didn’t. It was just how it went. He had to look for him, find him, hold onto him, because he knew what would happen next.

He never stayed in that room filled with thick, white fog. No, Alastor wasn’t supposed to be there. He wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t meant to have seen it in his entire existence, yet he knew he’d been there, and he knew he shouldn’t have been. He should’ve stayed back in the pit. Back in the darkness. His void. His shadows. Not there. Not in Heaven’s womb.

God knew it, and for that reason, he kicked Alastor out, time and time again.

The image of a cherub—a lamb with a kind and terrifying smile, was all he saw before the floor vanished from under his feet, and he was falling.

Falling down through a space where no one, not even the angels, could go. Or, rather, should go.  

And that damned smile—that damned kind and understanding and dangerous smile was there. Right up there in the clouds above him which were getting farther and farther away for every single second Alastor was falling.

He was falling.

And he wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He never could. Someone had stolen his voice. He didn’t know who, and he didn’t know how, but they had. He made no sound as he fell. All he could do was reach out and hope he’d catch onto something. In some ways, he knew he would, eventually. He knew what was supposed to happen.

He was supposed to fall, and a burning comet would catch him. The comet would smile at him, so happy to see him, as if wanting to rescue him.

The comet didn’t know it was falling, too.

And there it was, falling towards him from above.

He wanted to tell it. He wanted to yell at it that this wouldn’t end in nothing but a pain more intense than anything the two of them had ever experienced. They were both falling to their eternal damnation, and it would haunt them until the end of time itself. It would destroy them. Change them. Every inch of them would be different.

The comet held onto him for dear life, like it wanted to protect him. Alastor couldn’t be protected. Nothing would protect him from the impact. Nothing would protect him from the burning. The seething pain. Agony in every cell of his body. He wouldn’t die, but he would wish for the sweet relief of the eternal darkness that soothed his bones with its chill temperature.

But Alastor never experienced the impact again after the first time. He was living in a loop. The fear kept coming back to him. He knew what it would feel like if he did land. It had become a part of him. The knowledge of what falling felt like.

A racing heart. Stomach dropping. Chest constricting. Disorientation. Nausea. Wind making it impossible to hear a thing. Hair in his eyes. Dry mouth. Flailing limbs. Desperation to catch onto something. Fear. The inevitable ground getting closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Alastor knew what falling felt like.

A rush. An excitement. Adrenaline pumping through him. A beaming, love-filled grin. Arrows falling like rain. Red eyes crinkling at the corners. The same eyes trailing after someone running away. Red splattered across light skin. A deranged creature unlike anyone else. Interesting. A comet shooting through the sky at the speed of light. The taste of sweet apples.

The comet whispered to him. It didn’t always do that, but sometimes it did. This was one of those times. Alastor didn’t know what it said. It had the voice of an angel. Smooth and calm. Gentle. Sometimes it sang to him. It soothed him and calmed him down. It brushed his hair out of his eyes and he leaned into its touch. He usually hated being touched, but the comet was safe. It wanted nothing but to protect him. Break his fall.

The comet was falling, too.

Alastor gritted his teeth, feeling his heart speed up, again. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what it was, but something wasn’t like it was supposed to be. Something was different. He didn’t like it. He never liked falling, but there was something else in the waves of existence at that moment. He didn’t know what it was. It took a hold of his frequency and it ripped at it. It sunk its claws into his flesh and pulled him away from the comet’s gentle embrace.

Alastor wasn’t falling. He was standing, surrounded by darkness. The claws were still there, burying into his skin and trying to attach themselves to him. They wanted to ruin him. They wanted him gone.

No.

They wanted him for themselves.

Three of them. There were three of them. He hated them all. He’d thought he could trust them, but no. He never could. He should’ve known. He should have seen it coming from the moment he first met them. Their hollow praise rang in his ears. Their laughter mocked him. He could hear his own join their choir. A part of them, they’d said. Their equal.

But Alastor was not their equal. He’d been stronger than them since he first died. A force to be reckoned with. He didn’t fear them. He never had. Not really.

A deep voice hissed in his ear, telling him about a crown. A promise to rule. To be king. To stand beside someone he’d once trusted. Someone he’d respected. A knife protruded from his shoulder. He couldn’t feel it. No, he felt hands against his cheek. It made him want to get away. He was tied with his hands behind his back. His ankle was broken. He knew it.

He had nowhere to go.

The hands slid down to his throat and wrapped themselves around his neck. They squeezed, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. More hands settled on his shoulders, holding him still. Someone grabbed his ears and—

Alastor’s eyes shot open. His heart was hammering in his chest, and all he could feel was hands. It made his skin crawl. He shuddered and sat up, trying to figure out where he was. He blinked, looking at his bayou, and the rest of the room, and the nightstand with the watch, and Lucifer curled up with his hand around Alastor’s waist.

His breath got caught in his throat, and he quickly got rid of Lucifer’s arm, before he scooted over to the edge of the bed. Another shiver went down his spine. It made him grit his teeth and cover his eyes with his hands, pushing his palms into his eye sockets.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting on the bedside. He needed to calm down but all he felt was those damned hands on his skin.

“Nightmare?” Lucifer asked quietly from behind him.

Alastor didn’t answer. It wasn’t unusual for him to have nightmares, but it was always the same. He couldn’t understand what had suddenly changed. He always fell, but he felt like something had tugged him out of the free-fall. He’d never been afraid of the Vees, and given that most of them were dead and one of them stuck in Limbo for the foreseeable future, he hadn’t been worried about meeting them again for quite some time. Not that he was worried about that, either. He couldn’t care less about the three of them. He could even order them around, now, which he thought would be quite a lot of fun. He knew he was going to face Vox again, one day, when he had time to enjoy it.

“Hey,” Lucifer muttered, a slight worry in his voice. Alastor could feel him reach for him, and all he could feel was hands restricting his airways and holding him down.

“Don’t,” he rasped. Lucifer paused and shuffled a little farther away from him.

“Sorry,” he said. “Do you want me to leave you alone, or do you want to talk about it, or just sit there for a bit? I can shut up, too, if you want me to.”

The rambling felt oddly comforting to Alastor. He just couldn’t deal with getting too close to anyone at that moment.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, before he rested his hands on the edge of the mattress. Lucifer stayed quiet behind him, waiting for him to respond. Alastor felt completely on edge and didn’t know what to do to calm down, which just made it more frustrating. He tried to focus on feeling like he wasn’t back there in that room. That damned laughter.

“I can leave, too—”

“No,” Alastor interrupted him. “No, it’s fine. Just don’t…” He trailed off, feeling another shudder wash over him. Lucifer was one of the few people he was comfortable with being close to him. He normally didn’t mind his touch, but with the dream still fresh in his mind, everything felt uncomfortable.

Lucifer hummed quietly. Alastor could feel him move a little farther away from him. It made him want to tell him not to, but he couldn’t.

“I’m guessing this is something other than the regular one,” Lucifer said.

Alastor picked at the bedsheets. A few fireflies buzzed quietly over in the bayou, blinking gently. It felt serene and calm, yet Alastor’s heart kept racing. Something felt wrong in a way he couldn’t describe. A disturbance in the force, so to speak.

“Something like that,” Alastor muttered. He let out a soft breath before he finally turned to look at Lucifer. He was sitting curled up with his arms resting on his knees, watching him. He gave him a gentle smile before he scooted backwards until he sat against the headboard and patted the spot beside him in invitation. Alastor looked at his hand and back up at him, before he shuffled over and brought his legs back up into the bed. Lucifer let his hand rest between them, but Alastor didn’t take it. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t be,” Lucifer replied. The hand stayed between them. “I’ve had my fair share of nightmares throughout history.”

“I keep forgetting how old you are,” Alastor admitted, making Lucifer snicker.

“An ancient being with issues,” he huffed, red eyes crinkling at the corners. Alastor’s heart slowed down. “And a lot of strange stories, I guess.”

Alastor stared at him, tilting his head. “How accurate is the bible?” he inquired, feeling his interest pique. He’d never really thought about it, before. Or, when he did, there’d never been a good moment to ask him about it.

“Fairly inaccurate,” Lucifer said with a grin. “I did show Jesus the world, but mostly because he seemed like he needed a break. I mean, forty days without food is fucking awful, and come on, you’ve met our dad. I thought he could at least get a distraction from it all.” He picked up a piece of fluff from his pants and flicked it off the bed. “We all need a break from time to time, as you know.”

Alastor grimaced, the memory of their last “break”, which hadn’t been entirely successful. It had been rather painful, actually, and quite idiotic. He could still feel his skull itch from time to time due to the residue of the damned wood glue. The gala had been an experience, to say the least. Stolas had sent them home pretty quickly, which gave them a little more time to figure out how to get their faces back in place before duty called. Still, there had been a few days before they looked somewhat like themselves again.  

“Well, I’m surprised you felt the need to give him a break, of all people,” Alastor muttered, crossing his legs. “You’re not great at figuring out your own limits, either, exactly.”

“It’s easier to notice it for others than admitting you need a break yourself,” Lucifer replied quietly. “And I had a lot of free time on my hands back then. I sure wasn’t doing much for Hell, at least. Now, I just feel like I have to do as much as I can to make up for it, and taking breaks feels…” He trailed off with a shrug.

“Undeserved,” Alastor finished for him.

“Yeah,” Lucifer breathed. He glanced down at his hand on the mattress between them. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he murmured after a moment of silence. Alastor knew what he was talking about. He glanced down at the hand. He wanted to grab it, but his own hand refused to reach out.

“Not particularly,” Alastor replied, before he sighed, gaze falling to the little snake around his finger. She stayed perfectly still, as if she knew he didn’t want something sliding across his skin. However, Alastor didn’t feel like he would mind her moving, either. “I don’t know how to describe it,” he admitted, offering his right hand for the snake to climb onto. She hesitated, tongue flickering curiously, before she loosened her grip on his finger and made her way up into his hand. It made his heart calm down further. “I think I dreamt about the Vees.”

“Eugh,” Lucifer said. It made a tiny spark of amusement flash in Alastor’s chest. “That damned pimp licked my cheek right after the TV killed Lilith.”

Alastor turned to look at him. “He what?”

Lucifer huffed. “It made me want to rip my own skin off.” He grimaced, probably because of recent events.

Alastor stared at him. “That’s close to it,” he muttered, making Lucifer glance at him.

“Really?”

“Maybe not that extreme, but it’s similar,” he mumbled. Lousia curled up in his hand and looked up at him as if she was listening, too. “I believe I can only describe it as an intense urge to get away from it. A discomfort or disgust, almost.” Lucifer took his hand back. Alastor wanted to tell him not to. He sighed. “I usually don’t feel like that with you.”

“But the dream…?” Lucifer didn’t have to finish his question. Alastor gave him a short nod, before he turned back to the snake. “I see,” he muttered.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I just—” Alastor shrugged, trying to find the right word, “—can’t. I’ve never been good with intimacy, anyway, but you’ve made me enjoy it more than I thought I would.” He wiggled his finger in front of the snake. She wiggled back. “Don’t,” he warned when he heard Lucifer was about to let out some annoying sound of adoration.

He could hear his husband bite back the noise. “Hh-okay,” Lucifer deflated, a gentle grin still on his face. His eyes landed on the snake in Alastor’s hand. “But you don’t feel the same thing with animals?”

“Animals usually don’t have hands,” Alastor replied curtly, running a finger over the miniature scales on Louisa’s back. He started feeling like he’d calmed down enough to go back to sleep. He yawned, grimacing at the thought of ending up back in a free-fall. Lucifer usually stopped the recurring nightmare from escalating just by giving him something to hold on to. Or it was just the knowledge that he had him with him that helped. Either way, it had been a while since he’d been without that grounding sensation. It made him contemplate going back to sleep at all. “I don’t know if I should chance going back to sleep,” he told Lucifer.

“It’s one in the morning,” Lucifer said quietly.

“Let me rephrase,” Alastor grumbled, letting Lousia move back around his ring finger. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.” He clenched his jaw, feeling the hesitation of admitting why he wouldn’t. “I’ve grown accustomed to…” he started, cleared his throat, before he turned to Lucifer, hoping he would get it. Lucifer’s understanding smile was all he needed to see.

“Yeah, me too,” he admitted gently. “Makes me feel like I’ve got you, you know?” he told him. “That I’m not still trying to catch up to you.”

Alastor knew that, just like he knew Lucifer knew what Alastor’s nightmare usually was about. They’d talked about it a few times before, especially in the beginning when they sometimes woke up clinging to each other like they were afraid they’d get separated from each other, again. It had been frustrating, but definitely better than not having his partner there with him.

Lucifer’s eyes landed back on the snake. “I can try something, if you’d like?”

“What?”

Lucifer’s grin turned a little mischievous as he gave him a wink. A bright flash followed, and in Lucifer’s place sat a duck. Alastor had seen that duck a few times before, but he’d never really thought much about what the form could be used for (other than scare cops, he guessed). He knew exactly what his husband was trying to do, and he couldn’t help but feel it might work, as stupid of an idea as it was.

“You’re serious?” Alastor asked dryly. Lucifer nodded, taking a tentative step forward, curling his neck shyly. Alastor stared at him for a moment longer, before he reached out hesitantly. He scooped the duck up into his hands, and weirdly enough, it didn’t feel like he wanted to throw him across the room.

Lucifer kicked his feet a little, as if trying to stand on something, so Alastor untangled his legs and pulled them up to his chest. He let Lucifer down on his knees, feeling his husband struggle with his balance for a moment, before he let out a gentle whistle.

Alastor grinned at him. “Hi,” he said back. Lucifer wiggled his tailfeathers happily, before he carefully stretched his neck forwards. Alastor met him halfway, feeling Lucifer’s bill against his forehead. It moved up to Alastor’s hair, and Alastor couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him when he felt gentle tugs and nips against his scalp as if Lucifer was preening him. “Stop it,” Alastor huffed.

Lucifer stopped immediately, letting out a gentle murmur as if to apologise. Alastor rolled his eyes and poked the tip of his bill, before he ran his finger over the soft feathers on top of his head, smoothing down the ones sticking out a bit in the back. Lucifer leaned into the touch, letting out another gentle whistle, which roughly translated to, “Who needs an emotional support animal when you have a husband.”

Alastor almost wanted to point out that in many cases, people’s husbands didn’t have the ability to turn into animals, but he didn’t. Instead, he hummed and brought Lucifer down from where he stood on his knees and onto the mattress, before he shuffled down and placed his head back on the pillow. Lucifer stood beside him, staring at him. Alastor got comfortable and lifted his arm in invitation, and Lucifer didn’t hesitate waddling over and under his arm, snuggling close to him. He continued to murmur and chirp as he stretched his neck to give Alastor another round of what had to be the duck-equivalent of kisses to his chin, while Alastor wrapped his arm around him and pulled the covers over the two of them.

Lucifer nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Alastor could feel him breathing in his arms, and it made him relax enough that it didn’t take long before he felt himself drift off. It felt safe having him there, even though it wasn’t exactly the same as being wrapped in his arms (which was another thing Alastor generally didn’t like thinking about, because it brought a bunch of other feelings he didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about).

“It feels exactly the same,” Alastor huffed.

Lucifer bit him.

Vox shot up from where he’d been lying on the floor. His breath was coming in short puffs, and the more he looked around, the more disoriented he felt. He barely recognised where he was. It looked like he was in his tower in the living room, but run down and on the verge of collapse. His screens were gone, he realised. Someone must’ve gotten in and raided him while he was…

Where, exactly?

He couldn’t remember dying. He couldn’t remember much of anything, actually. It looked like he’d been gone for a long time if the state of his home was anything to go by. It felt completely vacant. It felt empty. Nothing like it had been. Nothing like he remembered it.

He got to his feet, turning around and taking in the vacant space. He tried to feel out the radio waves around him, but it felt strange. Different somehow. There was something else on it, now. No, not something else. It was the same as before, just something stronger. It felt like a stifling blanket.

He frowned, trying to remember what he’d been doing moments before. Hadn’t there been a war? Had he won? No, he hadn’t. He knew he hadn’t. He just didn’t know exactly what happened. Had Heaven won? That felt more likely given the state of his tower, at least.

Lilith, that damned bitch. He should never have trusted her. She’d promised him they would win. She’d told him he could have Hell if he helped him. He’d gathered her soldiers, and then she’d been mad when she figured out that he’d made deals with them instead of recruiting them in other ways.

She’d killed Velvette.

Fuck. God fucking damn it.

Vox curled his hands into fists, electricity sparkling and crackling around them. She’d killed her. He’d seen it while he watched his minions fight in the war. His soldiers. There’d definitely been a war, and he’d been fighting in it. They all had, except Valentino. He was supposed to keep an eye on Alastor—

A memory flashed through his mind. Alastor and Lucifer. Arrows hailing down around them. The king shielding the Radio Demon, taking hit after hit, not knowing that he was shielding Vox, too. He’d been too focused on Alastor.

They were supposed to be in his fucking basement, bleeding out, and instead, they’d been right there on the battle field. Valentino had failed keeping them in the tower, and he’d had to fight against Alastor, who’d managed to knock his knife out of his hands before Lucifer showed up to shield Alastor from the damned arrows.

The two of them had crashed into each other, making out right-fucking-in front of him. The damned King of Hell had somehow gotten Alastor to kiss him. Vox had tried the same thing, only to end up with a broken screen. And not only had Lucifer kissed the guy; Alastor had fucking reciprocated it! And kissed him again, right after!

Vox felt his blood boil as the need to find them rushed through him. They’d been in the middle of the battlefield last time he saw them. They had to still be there. He couldn’t remember how he got to the tower, but he was sure as fuck not going to let Lucifer-fucking-Morningstar steal his Alastor. They weren’t fucking compatible. Not like Alastor was with Vox. The two of them were meant to be. He just had to make Alastor realise it, first. If he wanted Vox to defeat the king, then so be it. He would kill him, no fucking problem.

He marched over to the balcony doors and used his energy to try and get the shields up. They scraped and groaned as they retracted themselves slowly. Vox glared at the slow motion, and didn’t wait for them to retract completely before he stalked outside onto the balcony.

He was prepared for chaos. He was prepared to see broken buildings, dead bodies, angels swooping down from above and an open portal in the middle of the pentagram over the city. Instead, the sight that met him was of a thriving city he barely recognised. Everything looked brand new, if not a few years old. People were walking down on the street of the Entertainment District, chatting and laughing as they walked hand in hand under the red moonlight. They looked strangely peaceful. It was nothing like what he was used to.

What. The. Fuck.

He growled as he looked in the direction of the fucking hotel that Lucifer’s little brat had started. He couldn’t really see it from there, so he let himself get transformed into an electric current and zapped himself into the nearby power cable. He flashed through the city as fast as he could, only to screech to a halt when he saw the news playing on a TV in one of the stores. He paused, watching the footage. He wasn’t actually sure what he was looking at, at first. A couple of royals with skulls for heads. Not really something he thought would catch his attention, until he realised that he knew the hair attached to one of the skulls.

He flashed out of the television and grabbed someone on their way past the shop with the TV-screens. The demon screamed. Vox couldn’t give less of a shit if he tried. He needed answers.

“What the fuck happened?!” he snarled at the demon, who continued to scream. “Fucking answer me, you piece of shit! What happened to the war?”

The demon—a sinner with the head of a lobster, tried to get out of his grip, but Vox had no intentions of letting go until he knew why the fuck Alastor was on TV with his damned skull out and wearing what looked like a royal uniform. He was wearing a damned crown, too, for Christ’s sake!

Oh, and the war. He needed to know about that, too.

“Let go of me, you fucking maniac!” the lobster yelled, trying to hit him. Vox caught his hand and twisted it until he heard bones snap. It only made the lobster scream louder.

“Answer me and I won’t fucking destroy you!” Vox threatened, seeing the lobster start crying. He really didn’t have time for it. He started considering going to the hotel, again, when the demon seemed to come to his senses.

“The war’s been over for years, man!” he snivelled. Vox tightened his grip on his arm, making the lobster whine.

“How long?”

“Eight years!”

“Eight years!?” Vox roared, electric sparks flying. The TVs in the shop flickered. “I can’t have been gone for fucking eight years!”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you need to let fucking go before I hurt you!” the lobster warned, which he clearly wouldn’t be capable of. Vox might’ve lost his deals, but he was still strong. Much stronger than a random—

The demon kicked him in the nuts.

Vox felt like he short circuited for a good minute, which was more than enough time for the lobster to get his arm free and start running away. Vox contemplated running after him, but his pride had just gotten a pretty decent kick, so he decided not to. It was a decision. Really. It had nothing to do with the fact that he felt like he couldn’t walk.

He turned back to the TVs in the shop once he felt like the worst of the pain subsided. The picture of Alastor and who had to be Lucifer (also lacking a face), stood side by side in front of a limousine. Had the two of them gotten their faces damaged during the war? Was it some kind of masquerade ball or something?

“Awh, fuck-nuts.”

Vox knew that voice. He spun around, seeing Valentino’s favourite porn star standing there, staring at him. He didn’t look afraid, just annoyed to see him more than anything. He was clearly alone, too, and while he’d gotten out of his master’s hold, he wouldn’t be a match for Vox.

“You,” Vox spat, stomping closer to him. “Where is he?”

“Val’s dead,” Angel Dust informed him with a smirk.

“Not him,” Vox hissed, before he pointed at the TVs where the segment about whatever the fuck was going on with Alastor and the king was still playing, this time switching to another picture where they looked relatively normal, except for Alastor still wearing that damned crown. “Him.” He paused, the sinner’s words sinking in. “Wait, what do you mean Valentino’s dead?”

Angel Dust shrugged as he started moving past him like he didn’t have a care in the world. He pulled out his phone and started texting someone. A moment later, he held up his phone and took a selfie. Vox could clearly see himself in the background of the picture.

Valentino was dead? No, he couldn’t be. He was supposed to keep an eye on Alastor and the king. He couldn’t be—

“I’m sure you’ll find Prince Creepy-Face in the palace,” Angel Dust said offhandedly over his shoulder as he continued down the sidewalk. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” he added, before laughing to himself.

Prince?!

Vox had no idea what was going on. Valentino was apparently dead, which explained why Alastor and Lucifer had gotten out of the tower. The demons of Hell either seemed to not know who Vox was, or they clearly didn’t fear him for some reason. People couldn’t have forgotten about him that quickly, could they?

Eight years. He’d been gone for eight years, and if Angel Dust was right, Alastor had ended up becoming a prince. Through marriage to the devil, if what he’d seen on the screen was true.

Vox went back into the TVs and let himself shoot across the city, heading for the palace, this time. He’d never been there. Lucifer wasn’t someone he’d ever really thought much about except for after finding out that his stupid daughter had somehow convinced Alastor to help her out with her fucking hotel. Even then, he hadn’t really cared much about the king. He’d never been of importance.

And then he started showing up side by side with Alastor. His Alastor. Vox had known him for longer. They’d been a thing. At least, almost a thing, if it hadn’t been for the damned Radio Demon playing hard to get.

Vox felt his electricity surge as he kept going, making the lights in the city flicker. He sped up. They must’ve killed Valentino, too. He’d thought they’d just snuck out of the building, but apparently, they’d been on a revenge mission after they got out. Vox had killed Lilith and Valentino had stabbed Lucifer. That had to be the reason they’d gone back for him.

He’d lost them both, Vox thought as he continued towards the palace. He’d lost both of his friends, all because he trusted that damned witch. Alastor had told him she didn’t keep her promises. Vox hadn’t listened, and now he was the only one left of the Vees. His mighty imperium had fallen.

At least Lilith was dead.

He reached the edge of the city and tried to figure out if he could get into the palace by using his powers. There had to be some sort of power cord up to the building, right? Surely, they weren’t without electricity?

He found the line a moment later and flashed through it and into the building. He ended up in a TV that was still on. He wasted no time jumping out of it, only to be met with a couple of imps.

The imps screamed, the girl falling out of the couch she’d been sitting on, while the guy lost his bowl of popcorn with how hard he jumped. They looked quite young. Siblings most likely. Vox didn’t care. He needed to find Alastor, and if he was somewhere in the castle, then he’d find him. He wouldn’t let a couple of imps stand in his way.

The girl was hyperventilating. The boy held onto her as if trying to keep her calm. He looked moments away from attacking their intruder. Vox wouldn’t mind a fight, actually, but he had other things to attend to.

“Where is he?” Vox demanded, taking a step closer to them. They cowered where they sat.

“Where’s who?” the boy asked.

“Alastor,” Vox clarified. “Where is he?”

The girl looked like she was getting a little more confident. “You can ask for an audience with the prince in the morning,” she stated.

Vox grinned. “Do I look like I’d like to wait until morning to talk to my damned friend?”

“You’re not his friend—” the girl started, but the boy interrupted her.

“It’s not worth it, Suzie,” he muttered. He glared at Vox. “You’re the TV Demon, right?”

A slight sense of relief washed through Vox. At least people hadn’t forgotten about him completely. The lobster must’ve been new to Hell.

“I am,” Vox said, puffing his chest out. He took another step closer to them. “Tell me where he is, kid.”

“He’s in his quarters, I believe,” the boy answered.

“Desmond,” Suzie hissed.

Desmond ignored her. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to disturb him, though.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Vox replied dryly. He couldn’t care less about what the fuck Alastor was doing. “Where are his quarters, exactly?”

“He’s going to kill you for telling him,” Suzie warned her brother.

Desmond hesitated at that, before he looked down at his sister. “If that keeps you safe, then I don’t fucking care.” He turned back to Vox. “It’s in the east wing. Top floor.” He started breathing a bit heavier, like he was forcing himself to continue. “It looks different than the rest of the palace. You can’t miss it.”

“Fucking Christ,” Suzie muttered under her breath.

“Thank you kindly,” Vox grinned as he walked out of the small TV room and into the dark hallway. He wasn’t entirely sure exactly where he was, so instead, he started heading east. Well, where he thought east might be, at least.

While he walked, he started taking in the hallways around him. There were a lot of red and gold, for sure, with hints of black and green here and there, like Alastor had wanted to add his own little touch. There were a bunch of paintings hanging on the walls, mostly of the king and his brat, as well as a few of Lilith. The first one that truly caught his attention was a group painting of Lucifer, Charlie and Alastor, though. The princess was grinning from ear to ear sitting on a chair in front of Lucifer and Alastor, who both looked surprisingly happy to be there. Vox didn’t know if he’d ever seen the Radio Demon with such a content smile before. It stung. It truly did.

He gritted his teeth as he kept walking, making his way closer to where the imp had told him he’d find him.

The only reason Alastor would smile like that in a picture was if the artist faked it, Vox thought, before he once again stopped in front of another painting. This time it was of just Lucifer and Alastor, and it looked a lot more like one of those regular royal paintings. Alastor was still grinning (there wasn’t actually a need to specify it, but just the way he was smiling was getting on Vox’s nerves), but with a certain pride in it. His hand was resting on Lucifer’s shoulder, and Vox felt another sting in his chest.

He sneered at the picture, before he continued to walk. The closer he got to the east wing, the more paintings there were of the two of them. There weren’t a lot, of course, but quite a few. The thing that surprised Vox the most was probably the fact that Alastor didn’t actually look like a proper prince in any of them. Well, the first two he’d seen, but other than that, it looked like he was just the plain, old Radio Demon.

Except his smile. That fucking smile. He looked smug as shit and like he was enjoying the attention from the king. It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. The Radio Demon cared about no one. If he actually cared about anyone, it was Vox. The two of them had been inseparable since they met, and then Vox had tried to make a move, only for Alastor to start a fight.

The thought made him growl as he found the stairs up to the next floor. He walked faster as he continued to make his way up. He knew he had to be in the east wing when he started to see a different design to the décor. Everything looked a bit less “royal,” and a lot more “antique Earth.”  He also noted that there were quite a few ducks hidden around, as well as apples.

He found another set of stairs and hurried up, until he found what had to be the top floor. It felt like a maze as he made his way through the corridors. He checked a few doors along the way, finding nothing of interest except a furby collection that would haunt his dreams for a long time. The rest was just closets, and a workshop and some other uninteresting things.

He came to a stop by a quite wide hallway. It wasn’t that long, but at the end of it, there was a door. A pretty big door with an apple and deer antlers carved into the dark wood. Vox already knew it had to be the place he was looking for.

He stomped towards it as he started muttering. “I can’t fucking believe you got married to the king of Hell. I can’t fucking believe it. You were mine,” he snarled as he got closer. “Like Hell you don’t want fucking power. You just thought I wouldn’t be able to kill the fucking king,” he continued, stopping in front of the door. For a second, he almost thought he should knock, but immediately discarded that idea. He leaned back and let his powers crackle and spark as he kicked the door in. It slammed open hard enough to make it fall halfway off of its hinges. It hung awkwardly on the bottom hinge while Vox marched into the room, ready to start yelling.  

On the bed, Alastor scrambled up into a sitting position. His eyes landed on Vox. Vox stared back at him and the… duck he was holding? It squawked at the sudden wake-up call, before it started struggling against Alastor’s hold. Alastor glanced down at the bird, before he opened his arms and let it fall inelegantly down on the bed beside him. The duck let out a string of hisses while it righted itself and got to its feet, before it, too, turned to look at Vox.

Everything Vox had been going to say vanished out of his head.

“Well, that explains it,” Alastor drawled, making the duck look at him. He leaned back on his arms. His hair was mussed and he was wearing pyjamas. It made Vox realise he’d never seen Alastor in anything other than that damned coat. And here he was, looking completely relaxed and unconcerned in bed holding a fucking duck.

“Why the fuck do you have a duck?” Was apparently the first thing Vox decided to ask.

“Good to see you too, old pal,” Alastor said, grin widening. “How was your time in—”

“Quack,” the duck interrupted, making Alastor glance down at it.

“Oh, right. Never mind,” he huffed. He turned back to Vox, who still had no idea what the fuck was going on. “What are you doing here, Vox?”

“Did the king make you share a bed with a fucking bird?” Vox continued, because for some reason, it felt like the last thing Alastor would do on his own. Alastor just smiled a little wider. “Where is the little shit, anyway? Shouldn’t he be here with you?”

“He’s giving me some space,” Alastor said. The duck murmured, but it still looked pretty agitated by the rude awakening. “You never seemed to understand that concept.”

“Fuck you, you damned—”

The duck hissed, making Vox glare at it. It waddled a couple of steps closer, fluffing up its feathers like it was ready for a fight.

“Not yet,” Alastor said, and the duck calmed down. It glanced at him, before it made its way back to him. It chirped at him, and Alastor scoffed. “Of course he’s not leaving.” Vox stared between the two of them. The duck let out another string of grunts and chatters, glancing at him over its shoulder. “Well, in that case, we might as well have some fun with him while he’s here.”

Vox had a feeling Alastor wasn’t talking about fun of the sexual kind. He felt his heart speed up when a pressure settled over the room.

“You got married to the fucking king,” Vox spat.

Alastor tilted his head. “Are you here to congratulate me?”

“You got fucking married.”

“Astute observation.”

Vox felt himself wanting to buffer, but he managed to keep it mostly under control. “Wh-h-at does he have that I don’t?!” he exclaimed, taking a step farther into the room. Alastor continued to look unbothered. “You know I would fuck you better than that short failure of a—”

“Quack.”

Alastor held up a hand in front of the duck. “Not yet, dear.”

“It could be us living in this fucking palace, Al,” Vox said. “You could’ve just waited until I killed the king, and then we’d rule this entire, fucking realm.” He grinned wider when Alastor tilted his head in consideration. “I’d never let you sleep alone with a fucking fowl. You’d warm my bed every fucking night, and we’d—”

Alastor held up his hand, again, this time to make Vox stop talking. The pressure in the room seemed to get heavier. Tenser. Vox didn’t know what was going on with him. He felt like he was moments away from getting crushed, or something.

“I’m good,” Alastor said. “I’ve got no plans on getting a divorce any time soon, at least.”

The duck chirped, and Alastor picked it up and placed it in his lap. Vox got some strange associations to “The Godfather” when he started petting it.

“You’d be a king,” Vox hissed, taking another step forward. “But you just had to go fuck the one already in power, you fucking power whore. I heard you’re a prince, nothing more.”

Alastor sighed and rolled his eyes. Vox could see the duck look like it was trying its best to get out of Alastor’s hold. In a sneaky way, at least, which was another incredibly strange thing to say.

“You’re never going to get it, are you?” Alastor muttered. “You also seem to have forgotten our little talk on the battlefield. I don’t know if that’s just an aftereffect or something, but it doesn’t matter. Let me tell you this once and for all, Vox. I’m taken, and I do not plan on switching him out any time soon.” He picked up the duck and placed it beside him on the bed before he removed his covers and got out. “You see,” he started, arching his back until it cracked. “If I did marry you, I might’ve gotten a title, but it wouldn’t make me more powerful. Not that I truly care about power, of course.”

“Excuse me?” Vox grumbled.

“You’d keep it all to yourself,” Alastor stated with a grin. The duck ruffled its feathers, again, before it stepped over to the edge of the bed. “Now? Well…” He placed his hands behind his back like a fucking general. In some ways he almost looked the part, even with his messy hair and pyjamas. “He’s been very generous about sharing.”

The pressure in the room went beyond crushing and Vox felt himself get cut off from the radio waves, rendering him mostly useless. Alastor had tuned in on his frequency. He was blocking him, he realised. He had no chance of getting out through any electrical devices, at least.

Vox’s heart pounded in his chest, which felt like it was constricting from the amount of tension surrounding him. Pure power. He’d never felt anything like it before, and it was coming from Alastor. He’d never been that strong. Never. This was something else entirely, and Vox realised that not only was he fucked, he was royally fucked—pun not intended (well, maybe a little).

He took a couple of steps backwards. Alastor tilted his head. The duck quacked.

“I don’t think I’ll join the hunt, today,” Alastor said, actually sounding a bit down about it for whatever reason. That made the duck look at him and let out another murmur. “Oh, what a splendid idea!” He chortled darkly and looked at his left hand. “I’m sure she’d enjoy it.”

“What the fuck?” Vox breathed, eyes landing on the tiny snake wrapped around Alastor’s ring finger. It took him a moment to realise it was moving.

Alastor looked at Vox. “I’ll give you a head-start.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” The room filled with shadows, slowly stretching out from the Radio Demon standing there. There was a flash of green, and Alastor stood inches away from him, nose almost touching his screen, eyes turned to radio dials tick-tick-ticking as his grin split his face, blood dripping down his chin. Vox glanced up to see a crown on his head, ruby eyes staring down at him. An intense sense of dread and horror slammed into him at the sight of it. “Run.”

Vox turned on his heels and sprinted out through the broken door and down the hallway. He could hear Alastor’s cackling echo through the palace, mixing with the sound of his own shoes hitting the polished floors.

He slid around the corner, slammed into the wall and kept going.

He had to find a way out.

The terror kept coursing through him as he skidded around another corner, before he desperately tried to find the stairs. The damned palace was a maze. Especially this particular wing, it seemed. Trying to find anything—even a window, felt just about impossible.

Speakers sparked to life overhead, and Vox gritted his teeth as Alastor’s familiar voice blared through the palace. “Greetings, everyone,” he said. Vox kept running. “Dreadfully sorry for waking you up at this hour of the night, but we have a bit of an intruder-situation. If you see him, let him run. We’ll take care of it.”

Vox wondered if Alastor had woken up Lucifer. He’d said the king had given him some space, but he didn’t know what that entailed. It could be anything from being in another room to being in a different place in Hell. Knowing Alastor, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be satisfied with ‘space’ unless the other was in another realm entirely.

Unless he wasn’t talking about the king when he said ‘we’.

He stumbled through another, tighter corridor when he noticed something up ahead.

A window!

He ran faster. It would hurt like an absolute bitch, but if it got him out of there, he didn’t care if he got crushed falling from the fourth floor. He just had to get out. The intense fear was still there. He couldn’t understand why. He felt so incredibly pathetic. It was fucking Alastor. He’d never feared him before. Not like this. It felt completely debilitating in a way. Like all he could think about was getting away. Getting out. Out, out, out!

“Fuck!” He croaked, trying to get rid of the pressure in his chest. He realised it wasn’t just the room that had felt tension-filled. It was the entire, damned palace. Either that, or it was just him. “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!”

He crashed into the window sill, trying to figure out how to open the damned thing. He tried crushing it with his elbow, fist, kicking it, throwing a vase through it, but it didn’t as much as crack. He cursed, trying to kick it again.

“It’s not going to work,” Alastor said from right beside him. Vox yelped, stumbling backwards and away from him. “Though, I’m not going to stop you from trying.”

“Fuck you!” Vox spat. “Why don’t you just finish me off if you’re so strong, now?”

“I could,” Alastor admitted, leaning against the wall beside the window, arms over his chest. “But I’m not in the mood.”

Vox gaped at him, before he felt himself smirk. “So, you do care about me,” he replied smugly, only for Alastor to scoff.

“Not at all, I’m afraid.” He grinned, eyes falling to something behind Vox. Vox didn’t dare turn around. “You’re awfully stationary for someone being chased,” Alastor mused.

“You just said you weren’t in the mood to kill me,” Vox huffed, feeling slightly less afraid of the Radio Demon.

Alastor’s grin turned dangerous, eyes once again flickering to something behind him. “I never said I was the one doing the chasing.”

Vox finally turned around. His eyes landed on the duck coming running at him. It seemed to notice its cover having been blown and started chattering and hissing as it got closer.

Vox barked out a laugh and turned back to Alastor. “You’ve got to be fucking joking,” he giggled. Alastor looked dead-serious where he stood. Vox felt himself hesitate. “Right?”

“Are you sure you want to find out?” Alastor questioned with a tilt of his head. He glanced back down to where the duck was approaching, waddling as fast as it could. “It’s getting closer.”

“I’m not afraid of a fucking duck,” Vox huffed.

Alastor blinked sluggishly at him. “Maybe you should be?”

Vox felt his heart start speeding up, again. He looked back at the duck, before he turned to Alastor, gave him one last confused glance, and started moving again. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the duck reach Alastor. It stopped by his side, and Alastor reached down and scratched the top of its head. Vox felt even more confused, until Alastor noticed him staring.

“It’s probably not the duck you need to be worried about,” Alastor yelled after him as Vox turned down another corridor.

Fuck. He had to be talking about Lucifer, then. The king was looking for him, too. That was the only explanation. There were no one else he could think of that would actually be hunting him. The bastard had literally told the staff to stay away from him if they saw him.

He found the stairs. Thank fuck, he found the stairs. He hurried down as far as they let him. He tried to remember the paintings and what order they’d been in, but his mind felt fuzzy with the pressure and tension still hanging over him. He couldn’t concentrate for long enough to actually think. That’s all he needed to do. Think. Where was he? Where was the entrance? Were there other, hidden entrances?

He gritted his teeth as he kept going. Whenever he saw a window, he tried to break it. He checked every door he could, but all of them were either locked, or they were just different rooms.

Vox snarled as he slammed yet another door shut. Another supply closet. Who the actual fuck needed that many supply closets? For fuck’s sake! It made no sense to him. It shouldn’t be that hard to find a way down to the exit. Or just getting out in general.

Another set of stairs met him when he opened the next door, and he immediately rushed down the steps as far as they would go. He found the main floor with its grand hallways, and started running as fast as he could towards where he hoped the main entrance was.

He felt like he was being watched. Most likely, he was. It made sense. He wouldn’t be able to see if Alastor was following him. The corridors and hallways were all bathed in darkness. The only thing he could really see was from the light of his own screen. Not that he needed the light. Demons had excellent night-vision, but that didn’t change that Alastor could blend into the shadows if he wanted to. Normally, he’d be able to sense him because of his signal, but the asshole had blocked him from using those, so the only way he would know was if he actually managed to spot him.

He staggered to a halt when he finally saw the grand entrance doors. “Yes!” he cried out raising his fist into the air. He grinned to himself as he jogged towards the doors. Sweet, sweet freedom, here he come.

He glanced around, trying to see if he could see anyone, like a red-eyed shadow or a small king, before he hurried over to the doors. They loomed over him. It felt strangely intimidating, actually. He grabbed the doorhandles and tried to pull them open.

They didn’t budge.

He tugged at them, again. They almost felt like they were a part of the fucking wall. There was no give. No movement. He couldn’t get them open.

“Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-fucking shit!” he chanted, trying to kick at the doors. The sound of the impact boomed through the hall. It made him tense up and look over his shoulder. He hoped it didn’t give away his location to the king.

“Quack.”

Vox screamed and jumped sideways, seeing the fucking duck standing right beside him. He almost expected it to grow into some huge beast that would eat him alive, or something. But the duck stood there, staring at him. It made Vox realise they didn’t actually have ducks in Hell. This one looked exactly like something he’d find on Earth. Had Lucifer given Alastor an Earth duck?

“I can’t believe he got me thinking you’re actually dangerous,” Vox grumbled. He kicked at it, and the bird hissed and dodged him. “Un-fucking-believable.” He turned back to the doors and tried once more to open them, before he turned down to look at the duck. It was still watching him curiously. He sighed, let go of the doorhandles and took a couple of steps away from the doors. The duck followed. “Fuck off,” Vox told it.

“It’s getting awfully close,” Alastor said as he emerged from the shadows under one of the windows beside the doors. The red light from them made him look extra dangerous where he stood. There was a different aura to him, Vox realised. It was like he could actually see the power wafting off of him.

“I’m not scared of the stupid duck, you fucking asshole!” Vox exclaimed.

The duck murmured and grumbled.

Alastor hummed. “He likes looking harmless.”

“I’m not fucking falling for that shit,” Vox hissed.

“Your funeral,” Alastor said, waving him off uninterestedly. The duck stepped over to him, quacking excitedly. Alastor grinned a little wider before he turned to Vox. “Look, I’ll open one entrance to the palace. If you can find it, I’ll let you leave.” He picked up the duck and tucked it under his arm. “If you get caught…” he trailed off, a clear warning in his voice.

“Your duck bites me?” Vox asked dryly.

Alastor shrugged. “I don’t know what they’ll do if they get to you.”

“They?” Vox questioned.

Alastor ignored him. “I’ll release him after you’re out of sight,” he said, pointing to the duck, before he took a step closer to Vox and waved at him as if trying to shoo him away. “Chop-chop. I don’t have all night. I’ve got a meeting in the morning.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Vox grumbled as he hurried back where he came from. He got around the corner before there was another flash of green, and Alastor stood right in front of him, again. The proximity forced Vox to throw himself backwards so he didn’t end up walking right into him (or get caught by the snapping duck). He just managed to stay on his feet.

“Oh, and Vox?” Alastor said, grinning at him like he was enjoying himself immensely. “Do try not to get caught. I’d like to kill you myself, and I can’t promise that you won’t die if they catch you.”

Vox stared at him, feeling another rush of fear wash over him as Alastor laughed darkly and vanished back into the shadows. He could feel his screen glitch as he started looking around for the fucking duck. Alastor must’ve released it the moment he vanished.

He tried listening to the area around him. If Lucifer truly was around, then he would definitely fucking kill him for entering the palace uninvited. The memory of the battle was hazy, but still, seeing the king get hit with hundreds—if not thousands, of arrows and then a fucking spear without batting an eye, did make an impression on him, for sure. The guy was the most powerful being in Hell, and he’d given some of it to Alastor. Quite a lot of it, too, if the pressure he’d been feeling was right.

The sound of webbed feet slapping against the polished floor made him hiss out another string of curses. He knew Alastor had to be bullshitting, but he was also right about Vox not wanting to take the chance. If he was right, then he didn’t want to find out through getting bit.

He had to find the exit. If there actually was one. Vox didn’t know if he’d been joking or not, but if he wasn’t, Vox was willing to try and find it. There had to be somewhere to go. The problem was if the exit was hidden, like a hidden passage that led out of the palace, or if it was just an unassuming door somewhere. He almost wanted to ask. He still felt like he was being watched, so he knew Alastor was still around.

Another problem with trying to find a door or hidden entrance was that it could be literally anywhere. They were in Hell, and for someone as powerful as Lucifer or Alastor (damn, he hated that), making a portal wasn’t a big task. It would probably be easy. So, Vox couldn’t just walk around down there. He’d have to check every single door in the palace, and he had to do it without getting caught by Lucifer or the duck.

Yes, he really didn’t want to know what would happen if the duck actually fucking touched him.

Vox grumbled to himself as he tried to figure out the best route. He didn’t know the palace. He didn’t know the layout, and so he had no idea where the best place to start would be. He could start from the top, or he middle, or from the basement. Putting it in the basement felt too easy, putting it at the top would also be pretty stupid. It would have to be somewhere he wouldn’t think to look. Somewhere he wouldn’t just randomly stumble upon.

Of course, unless Alastor was a piece of shit and reopened the main entrance after he left.

“I fucking hate you,” Vox told the shadows as he turned a corner and went back in the direction of the foyer. “So fucking much,” he added for good measure.

It didn’t take him long to get back to the huge doors, and when he tried to open them, he felt them give a little. It gave him hope until he realised it was a trick. He could hear the lock resist his efforts.

“I really fucking hate you,” Vox deadpanned as he let go of the doorhandles and placed his hands on his hips. If he had his powers, he’d just leave, or start at the top and work his way down. He couldn’t do that, now, though. Or, he could, but it would take all night.

He turned around and saw the duck stand in the middle between the two staircases leading up to the next floor. He felt himself jump at the sight of it, which didn’t help with his mood. He gave it the middle finger as he walked towards the stairs. It tried to cut him off. He couldn’t give a shit at that point, so he just continued to walk. That is, until it actually got within reach and it tried to bite him.

He skipped over its sad attempt at catching him, before he snickered at it and jogged up the stairs.

“You’re not getting me that easy, bitch!” he yelled down at it and started strolling through the palace again. He decided to go for a top-down approach, which meant he head to find a way up to the top, first. The longer he looked, the more frustrated he got.

He checked a few doors along the way, finally finding a more secluded staircase and started walking up it. He grumbled at the lack of an elevator when he’d gone up three floors and saw there were still more to go. He’d thought the palace only had four floors, but there he was, still going.

It was actually quite ridiculous how long this staircase was. Like, it felt like it never ended, almost. Like it kept looping over and over and…

Vox stopped at the next door and walked out into the exact same hallway he’d been in before.

“You motherfucker!” he screamed, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Quack,” the duck said where it stood, waiting for him.

“Your owner is a little bitch,” Vox spat at it, as he started walking, again. He could hear it following him. “Like, really. A real piece of shit. You hear that, Al? You fucking suck!” It felt like the shadows were chuckling. “And your duck is annoying!”

The duck scoffed.

“You fucking heard me,” Vox grumbled as he started opening random doors. None of them seemed to lead anywhere important, and while he knew Alastor could’ve just picked a completely random door, he felt like it had to look somewhat significant. Either that, or it was the most inconspicuous door in the entire palace. “You could at least give me a—” he shut up, freezing.

The sound of footsteps could be heard from the adjacent hallway in front of him. Heels or hooves, Vox wasn’t sure. They clicked against the floor and got closer. Who they belonged to didn’t seem to be in a hurry, at least. Slow and steady, almost like someone out on a midnight stroll.

It had to be Lucifer. It couldn’t be anyone else. Everyone else was supposed to stay away.

Vox waited. He knew he should run, but he needed to verify that it was actually the king. If it was just an imp, or even Alastor, he could relax. If it was Lucifer, then he was probably fucked no matter what he did, anyway.

He waited.

The footsteps stopped.

Lucifer did not walk around the corner.

No.

Vox felt himself his heart start racing in his chest as he watched the massive snake move past the corridor he was standing in. It was gigantic. It took up most of the space. Just the belly of the beast had to reach up to Vox’s shoulders. Its scales scraped against the floor as it slithered slowly across Vox’s field of vision.

They.

That’s what Alastor had meant. The duck and the fucking snake. The snake he’d had around his finger. Now that he thought back to it, he hadn’t seen anything around Alastor’s finger since he was in the bedroom, and it made him realise it was likely the same one.

And if it was Alastor’s snake, then he definitely didn’t want to get caught by it.

“Quack.”

“Fuck you!” Vox squealed as he saw the snake pause.

The sound of the snake’s hiss vibrated through the floor, and Vox scrambled away as he saw the beast’s snout come back around the corner. He continued to scream as he heard the scales scrape like sawblades against the tiles and walls as it crawled at an insane speed.

The duck just stepped aside as the snake sped past it, and Vox almost wanted to yell at it, but he couldn’t get himself to do anything other than run at that point. He couldn’t let it get to him. He had to move. He had to run. He had to find a place to hide. He had to get out. He had to find the exit. The snake would devour him, he knew it.

The snake hissed as Vox ran straight over the walkway between the grand staircases down to the main entrance, and into the next wing of the palace. His shoes barely had any grip on the damned floor, and every single time he tried to go around a corner, he felt himself slip. It forced him to slow down as he made his way through the corridors and the hallways. He could feel the snake gaining on him as he sprinted down a longer corridor. It was faster than him, somehow.

He grabbed everything he could see. Vases, paintings, decorations. He threw them at the serpent, but he quickly realised it was futile as it continued its chase. He got a glimpse of the giant when he threw another vase at it. It got crushed against the snake’s snout, and it only made it hiss louder.

“Fuck!” Vox whined as he grabbed onto a tapestry and tugged it down. He tossed it behind him, seeing it land and cover the snake’s eyes. He let out a small victory yell, before he realised it hadn’t actually slowed the snake down much. Its tongue was flickering, and Vox remembered that snakes had horrible eyesight and usually went by smell. “Damn it!” he exclaimed, focusing back on running.

He skidded around a corner and slammed into the wall. He pushed off from it just seconds before the snake came crashing into the wall right behind him, maw open and ready to eat him. Vox sped up, wishing his shoes weren’t this fucking slippery. He wasn’t used to running. He never needed to run in Hell. He walked around because he had just about nothing to be afraid of.

Not anymore, apparently.

Vox gritted his teeth as he continued to run through the palace. He saw some stairs up to the next floor and rushed over to them, before taking the steps two at the time to get to the top. The snake was on his heels, but it was slowed down slightly by his change in direction. Vox took the opportunity to run away into the next hallway. He started checking doors. Most of them were locked, except for one. He pulled it open and quietly closed it behind him. Vibrations and smell. Snakes could smell and feel.

He stayed silent, holding the doorhandle tightly just in case the snake somehow knew how to open doors.

“Hiding, Vox?” Alastor’s voice said from behind him.

“Shut it!” Vox hissed, still holding the doorhandle. “Shut up you piece of fucking—”

Scales scraped across the outside of the door and Vox snapped his mouth shut. He grimaced at the sound of it, and tried to stop himself from whimpering at the intense fear he felt. He’d never felt this useless before, and while he really wanted to get out, he was still no closer to finding the damned exit.

“If I knew it was this easy to mess with you, I’d have done it ages ago,” Alastor mused. Vox turned to glare at him, seeing that he was sitting in a couch. It was a library. Not a big one. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and Alastor sipped to a cup of what looked like tea. The duck sat beside him with its eyes closed like it was sleeping. The only light came from the fire.

“Fuck you,” Vox snapped.

The duck whistled gently.

“I know,” Alastor replied quietly. “He is a vulgar one.” He took another sip of his teacup.

Vox stared between the two of them. The Duck continued to whistle and chirp sleepily.

“What happened?” he found himself asking, and Alastor paused in his sip, before he placed the cup down on the saucer in his other hand. “With the war?” he added, because he never had to chance to find out properly. He just knew he’d been gone for eight years and had no recollection of ever leaving the battlefield.

“We stopped it,” Alastor said simply.

“You and…?”

“Lucifer, yes, indeed.” Alastor reached over and petted the duck beside him. “Stopped the war, saved the realm from certain doom and managed to rebuild everything.” The Radio Demon grinned pleasantly. “We made it better than it was, and created a connection with Heaven.”

“Just the two of you?” Vox said doubtfully.

“Well, we certainly made it happen,” Alastor said, picking up his cup, again. “I killed the seraph,” he informed him.

“You killed her?” Vox blurted out incredulously, letting go of the doorhandle. He took a step closer to the two of them. He almost felt like sitting down to have a chat. Alastor nodded and Vox whistled. “Damn.”

The prince tilted his head. “Now, is that really what you want to ask me about?” he asked.

Vox’s eyes fell to the duck lying beside him. It had opened its eyes and looked at him. There was something about it he couldn’t explain. Something he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Why would he give you a duck?”

“Same reason he gave me a snake,” Alastor replied.

Vox frowned. “Wedding gift?” he questioned. He hadn’t seen a ring on Alastor’s hand. Not currently, either.

“In a way,” Alastor said and turned to the duck, who cooed quietly. “You think he’s been in here for long enough?

“What?” Vox said. A blinding flash later, and he stood right in front of the snake. “Oh, fuck.” He felt himself freeze in place as it raised itself up, towering above him. The low, rumbling hiss from the creature made his legs feel like they wanted to give out from under him.

A shadow caught his attention where it moved past him. Alastor emerged from it and placed his hands behind his back. The snake tilted its head and glanced down at him, clearly recognizing him. It lowered its head, letting Alastor pet it. The head alone was bigger than the demon beside it.

“Did the noisy picture box hide from you?” he asked it, and the snake leaned into his touch. “Well, we can’t have that, now, can we?” The snake shook its head, and Vox took a careful step away from them. “I know. He’s such a coward, isn’t he? Yes, he is,” Alastor cooed. “Are you going to kill him?” Vox swallowed thickly as he met Alastor’s eyes. “Then go get him.”

Vox turned, squawked at the sight of the duck standing behind him, jumped over it, and once again ran for his damned life. An unholy screech from behind him made it turn into a full-on sprint down the hallway. His heart hammered in his chest. His breath came in short, panicked inhales as he tried to come up with some sort of game plan. He had nothing. There was nothing he could do as he once again heard the terrifying scales against the floor. He tried to open a couple of doors, but Alastor must’ve locked them. Every single one of them.

Except the exit.

If there was one.

He was fucked, wasn’t he?

The thought made his screen glitch. He ran faster. He was on the third floor. There were clearly towers but if each one of them had the same looping staircase, then there was no need to check them. Alastor had said he wanted him out sooner rather than later, which meant he couldn’t have hidden the exit as well as Vox first thought. Not if he wanted to kill him, himself.

He turned the corner and found a hallway with a bunch of curtains covering the walls. Vox glanced over his shoulder. He could hear the snake still hot on his heels. Could he hide from it, after all? It was a chance he felt like he had to take if he wanted to be able to check out each door. He would have to do it quietly without the snake following him.

With his mind made up, he slipped behind one of the curtains and waited. The sound of the sawblade-scales came closer. And closer. And closer. And then they were right there, beside him. They slowed to a stop. A pause. A hesitation, before it slowly started crawling, again. Vox held his breath. He could feel the side of the serpent brush against the curtain he was hiding behind. It almost made him short circuit, but he managed to stay still. He had to. It was the only way he could possibly find the way out alive.

He chanced a peek out from behind the curtain, seeing the massive snake continue around the corner. He waited until the last bit of the tail was gone before he slipped out, and hurried in the opposite direction. He needed to get up one more floor if he wanted to make sure Alastor hadn’t hidden the exit up there.

He walked as quietly as he could, once again regretting his shoe choice. The heels kept clicking against the floor, and every click made him tense up further. He tried to move his weight over on his toes, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The taps still echoed through the hallways.

It took him a while, but eventually, he found the stairs up to the fourth floor. He grinned as he snuck up the steps. He kept glancing behind him in case the snake decided to come out from one of the hallways and take up the chase. He turned around and came face to face with the duck.

“Make one fucking sound and I’ll break your neck,” Vox hissed quietly at it.

The duck said nothing, but it still tried to block him from going upstairs. Every time he tried, it ran in front of him and cut him off. It tried to bite him, and Vox was slowly but surely starting to think it was the stupidest creature to ever exist. Why the fuck wouldn’t it—

He bit his tongue as he heard the serpent come from the hallway at the end of the walkway. It had gotten up to the next floor. It was waiting for him.

Vox took a step back down from where he’d been standing at the top steps. He didn’t expect the duck to try and jump him. He yelped as he leaned back and out of its way. He lost his balance. His foot slipped on the edge of the step. He tumbled down the stairs. The side of his screen hit the floor, and he felt it crack. He groaned, sitting up from where he’d landed, only to see the snake come out from the hallway he’d heard it from.

It paused at the top of the stairs where the duck stood. It quacked, as if letting the other animal know where Vox was. The snake’s giant head turned slowly. Its eyes locked onto Vox on the floor.

The beast screeched, launching forward and down the stairs, jaw unhinged and fangs ready to sink into his flesh.

Vox felt a little dizzy as he stumbled to his feet. “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-shit-fucking fuck—” he chanted as he sprinted.  

He gave up on the top floor. Unless both animals were trying to block him from going there for a reason, of course. Fuck, that was probably what they were doing. He needed to go and check those damned doors.

He managed to find another way back to the stairs without being caught by the snake. He skipped up the steps and hurried in where the snake had emerged from not too much earlier, and found himself back in Lucifer and Alastor’s wing of the palace. He glared at the pictures as he ran by, seeing Alastor’s eyes follow him. It made him realise Alastor was still right there. He’d most likely been following him that entire time.

“If you want to kill me yourself, why don’t you let me the fuck out!?” he yelled, only for his foot to get caught in one of the shadows, sending him sprawling to the floor. He landed with a grunt and slid a few feet before he came to a stop. His head was killing him. The pressure added with the injury that wouldn’t heal was pretty concerning, actually. He needed to be able to fix himself before he got more damaged. “Fuck,” he snarled, placing a hand against the side of his head. He looked up only to be met by the sight of a pair of hooves.

Alastor’s hooves.

“Letting you out would be too boring,” Alastor said with a grin. He was standing with his hands behind his back, staring down at him. “Don’t you agree?”

Vox said nothing. If their situations were swapped, he’d find it hilarious to see Alastor or Lucifer run for their lives being hunted down by a fucking snake (and a duck for some fucking reason). He pushed himself up into a sitting position and glanced up at Alastor. He couldn’t hear the snake so he guessed it had lost his scent for now. It would be the perfect time to go check out some doors.

“At least tell me if it’s up here or not,” Vox grumbled as he got to his feet.

“No,” Alastor said.

Vox frowned. “No, it’s not here, or no, you’re not gonna tell me?” Alastor grinned mischievously, making Vox roll his eyes. “Of fucking course,” he muttered under his breath as he started walking over to the first door he saw. He tried the doorhandle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Fucking asshole,” he continued, moving over to the next door. He could hear Alastor follow him. “Leave me the fuck alone, you prick.”

“No,” Alastor repeated.

Vox continued to grumble and growl as he moved over to the next door. “When the fuck did you become the fucking prince, anyway?” he asked after the fifth locked door. He glanced over his shoulder at his rival.

“About three months ago or so,” Alastor said.

Vox stopped dead in his tracks and twisted around to stare at him. “I’m sorry, what?” he snapped, making Alastor grin wider. “You fucking what?”

Alastor shrugged. “Three months. We both expected you to crash the wedding, but you never showed up.” He pursed his lips as he kept following Vox down the hallway. “I was almost disappointed. Killing you on my wedding day would’ve been quite spectacular.”

“I’m sure it would,” Vox scoffed, checking yet another door. It was getting fucking repetitive and he wasn’t even through half of the hallway. “Seriously, though. Is it up here, or are you just fucking with me?”

“What do you think?” Alastor asked cryptically as they finally moved into another hallway. It was a gallery overlooking a small ballroom. Vox considered jumping just so he’d get out of the damned situation. Regenerating would almost be faster than just walking around checking random doors.

“I don’t fucking know!” Vox exclaimed, throwing his hands out in agitation. “At least give me a fucking hint!”

The sound of scales made him tense up and look around. He couldn’t see the snake, but he could definitely hear it. It was close. Really close. Like it was—

He leaped sideways just managing to get out of the way from the snake’s striking mouth. Its teeth lodged into the wall where he’d been standing just a moment earlier.

It had come from the gallery below the one Alastor and Vox had been standing in. It had climbed up while he wasn’t looking and tried to catch him. Vox’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to figure out the best way to escape. The snake was stuck to the wall, trying to rip its teeth loose. He saw how it had curled itself over the railing.

Vox gave Alastor one more glance before he jumped up on the snake’s back, shoes sliding on the metallic surface of the snake’s scales. His foot slipped, and he screamed as he fell, landing with a grunt. It took him about two milliseconds to realise he wasn’t behind the railing, and that there was quite the drop down to the ballroom floor below him. He tried to dig his claws into the snake’s skin, but they just scraped against the surface uselessly as he started to slide down. He tried to lean inward so he could use the snake’s body as a slide down to the floor below, and it seemed to be working until he felt it move the tail-end out from the third floor. It was trying to move up to the fourth floor, again, and Vox realised too late that he wouldn’t be able to reach the third floor before it did.

The tail fell away from the railing, and Vox wrapped himself around it to the best of his ability, still feeling himself slide. The tail swung like a pendulum as the snake crawled up, before it flicked him right down into the gallery at the second floor, where he crashed right into the wall.

He groaned, feeling that the break in his screen had gotten worse. It took him a moment to reorient himself, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay there for long. The snake would come back. Not to mention Alastor. He probably didn’t know where he’d gone.

Vox got up shakily, keeping a hand to his sparking head as he started hurrying down the gallery. If the top of the building wasn’t the right choice, then he could try the bottom. It had to be in the basement.  It had to.

He limped through the palace, trying to find the way down to the basement. The sound of webbed feet made him cringe and look over his shoulder at where the duck was waddling after him.

“Fuck off!” Vox hissed, trying to stay quiet. The duck hissed back and sped up, making Vox grimace and limp faster. He had no idea if he’d get out of this shit or not. If the fucking duck gave him away again, he’d fucking kill it. He should just kill it, right now, but because he didn’t know for sure if it wasn’t equally as dangerous as the snake, he didn’t want to take the chance. Hadn’t Alastor said the duck and the snake had been a part of the same gift or something? Maybe they were both trying to protect him?

Vox continued to open random doors until he found the stairs down to the main floor and hurried down. He couldn’t believe the two of them had been married for just three months. It made no sense to him. He’d seen the two of them making out right in front of him. Why wouldn’t Lucifer just order Alastor to become his? He wouldn’t have had a choice! Three fucking months!

Vox growled to himself as he started looking for the stairs to the basement. The slapping feet still followed him.

“Do you know where the basement is?” he asked, and the duck paused, quacking, before it followed him, again. “Stupid, fucking bird,” he mumbled, turning back to the task at hand. It couldn’t be that difficult to find, right? There had to be some stairs somewhere, right? Why they decided to create different stairs around the entire palace instead of just having one was incredibly annoying. Well, they were in Hell, so he guessed there had to be something to be mad about while living in a fucking palace.

He sighed, looking around. He glanced at the paintings, once again seeing the royal family, and every other picture of Alastor added in every now and again. Three months. Could he have stopped it if he got there in time? Could he have made Alastor change his mind about marrying the king?

Another one of those damned pictures with the two of them made him stop and stare. They were staring at each other with so much devotion and adoration he once again wanted to believe it was just because of the damned painter. But then his mind brought him the memory of that day on the battlefield. The kiss. The way they’d looked at each other like they knew each other on a deeper level than Alastor had ever let Vox get to know him. The way they’d gazed into each other’s eyes like it had been just the two of them.

The duck grunted, but Vox didn’t say a word as he kept going. He walked down another corridor before he saw the door he’d come through earlier after getting into the palace through the TV. He grinned to himself. Maybe Alastor had figured out where he’d entered and decided to let him go out the same way?

He grabbed the handle and tried to open the door, but once again he found himself with a door he was unable to open. He cursed and rested his head against the wood, before he pulled his arm back and hit it as hard as he could. Pain shot through his knuckles, but he didn’t care. He was so fucking done with this. He just wanted to get out.

He pushed off from the door and looked around, trying to figure out where the fuck that damned basement was. He growled as he started to walk, only to stop and turn back around at the sight of the head of the snake moving around the corner up-ahead.

“Nope,” Vox said, before hurrying back where he came from. He couldn’t really see the duck, which was strange. He’d thought it would be following him, again. Just like the snake apparently was. Fucking animals. Why the fuck couldn’t Alastor just kill him and get it over with?

The snake hadn’t seen him, Vox realised as he made his way quietly down another corridor. It moved slowly like it was tracking him, though. It probably was. If he could only find the damned basement—

Stairs! Leading down! Fucking finally!

He glanced over his shoulder, trying to spot the snake. He couldn’t, so he rushed over and descended into the basement below. The worst part about the basement would probably be that there weren’t any places to get back out unless he managed to trick his hunters. The duck seemed to know exactly where he was at any given moment, and it could potentially give him away if he didn’t get out.

He stepped down into the basement. He frowned, seeing a long corridor with doors. It felt strangely empty as he made his way down the line, checking each and every one of them. None of the ones in the first corridor seemed to be open, so he turned the corner and continued down the next row. That is, until he heard the sound of metal scraping against tiles, and he started speeding up his door checking.

“Damn it-damn it- damn it,” he hissed, until his eyes landed on a door at the end of the corridor. It looked different. It blended in with the rest of the doors, but there was something about it that made him gravitate towards it. “There,” he said to himself. “It has to be.”

A loud screech made Vox start running towards the door. He could hear the snake follow after him. It was like he could feel it breathing down his neck as he tried his best to reach the door at the end of the corridor. He realised it was a dead end when he got closer. If the last door wasn’t the one leading out of the palace, then he was dead.

The snake snapped at his heels, and Vox dove for the doorhandle and ripped the door open before he tried to enter the room, only to be stopped by a bunch of… rubber ducks? For fuck’s sake.

Vox crawled over the heap, trying to push the ducks away enough to be able to close the door behind him. He managed to turn around and grab the doorhandle. He got eye contact with the fucking snake just as he managed to slam the door shut, bathing him in complete darkness.

He was panting hard as he moved backwards until he was over the pile of ducks and rolled down on the other side. He tried to look around, but he couldn’t see a thing. It was pitch black in there. Even his screen barely penetrated the darkness. He had no idea where “there” was, either, but he could feel his screen start to mend itself.

He was out of the palace.

He’d found the exit.

Wherever it had led to.

He took a few more steps away from the duck-pile and continued to try and see. He could feel his powers start to return to him, and the intense pressure from Alastor’s powers was gone. He felt like he could think again.

He sucked in a deep breath before he let it out slowly, letting himself calm down for a moment. He’d lived. He got out.

The air around him started vibrating. He frowned, looking around in confusion.

“Why do I hear boss music?”

The door slammed open behind him, making Vox jump and spin around. He could just see the outline of the duck-pile. He almost thought it was Alastor who’d found him, but a moment later, the rubber ducks started to move. A flash of bright, red light followed, parting the pile like the fucking red sea, and at the other end stood the duck. It stood there menacingly, bathed in the red light from where the power keeping the path clear for it slithered and snaked like shadow-like tentacles. A few golden streaks mixed in with the rest of it, making it look like flames moving in slow-motion.

“What the fuck,” Vox said as the duck’s eyes glowed red. “I got out!” he tried. “You can’t fucking get me!”

The duck stepped through the glowing pathway. Vox stumbled backwards. He fell and started crawling as the duck started to change its shape until it became more human-like. No, demonic. No, angelic. Six wings stretched out from the person stalking towards him, and Vox realised who’d been following him. He’d been worried about Lucifer finding him. He’d always known.

The king glowed in the dark, making it easy to see his grim expression.

He likes looking harmless.

There was nothing harmless about the king in that moment.

“Vox,” Lucifer said, voice echoing through the empty space. “We meet again.”

“Lucifer,” Vox spat. “Tired of waddling around?”

“I do enjoy a good waddle, but I felt like having a chat.” Lucifer folded his wings behind his back, letting them vanish out of reality. “I mean, last time we met, you tried to kill my husband.” Vox gritted his teeth and tried to get up. “Stay down.” Lucifer’s voice forced him back down. Another round of fear rushed through him.

“And I killed your wife,” Vox said with a grin, trying (and failing) to hide his terror. Reminding the king about killing his wife probably wasn’t the best idea, but he felt like it was worth a shot. He was dead, anyway.

“She got better,” Lucifer said.

Vox stared at him. “What?”

“She’s still around,” Lucifer clarified. The smirk on his lips was extra smug, and Vox felt like hitting him. Or stabbing him. Or slicing his throat like he’d done with Lilith. Apparently, it hadn’t worked as well as Vox had hoped. “I’m not here to talk about that, though.” Lucifer stepped around him, circling him. Vox’s eyes landed on the open passage back into the palace. Lucifer noticed it. “You’re free to try, but I’d advice against it,” he whispered from right beside him.

“Then what are you here to talk about?” Vox asked, taking the bait.

Lucifer hummed quietly. “I’m here to talk about the fact that you broke into my palace, threatened two of my younger staff members, broke into my room, as well as breaking a bunch of shit, like, I don’t know, family paintings?” Vox grimaced. Lucifer stepped around until he stood in front of him. “I’d like to know why.”

“What?”

“Why did you do it?” Lucifer asked, placing his hands on his hips. “It’s probably the stupidest thing someone’s ever done, to be honest.” He paused, looking like he was contemplating something before he added, “I did have fun seeing you squeal, though.”

Vox stared at him, feeling the initial horror of realising the duck had been Lucifer the entire time, die down. “What?” he repeated, because really, he was starting to wonder what he’d been doing, himself.

Lucifer huffed, clearly unimpressed, which grated on Vox’s nerves, but he didn’t dare say another word in case the king decided to actually kill him. He tilted his head in consideration. “Was it because of Al?”

Vox blinked. Of course, it had been because of Alastor. Why else would he storm the palace? He’d been thinking about the damned kiss on the battle field, and the fact that they’d just teleported—wait, he hadn’t been teleported anywhere, actually. He’d been gone for eight years. Something else had happened in that fight.

“Did you kill me?” Vox asked instead of answering. Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been gone for eight years. Did you kill me?”

“I removed you,” Lucifer replied simply. “You were getting on my nerves and getting a lot of demons killed in a time when we needed people to stay alive.” He grinned harshly. “And I didn’t appreciate that.” He chuckled darkly and took another step forwards. “Not one bit. So, if you value your fucking life,” his voice was sweet, but his eyes flared with barely-contained fire, “you tell me why the hell you decided that breaking into my damned home was a good idea!” he snarled, making Vox flinch.

Vox glared up at him. He wanted to get back up, but Lucifer’s order stopped him. He couldn’t move.

“Because you’re a pathetic excuse of a king,” Vox started, seeing the corner of Lucifer’s mouth twitch upwards in amusement. It made Vox’s blood boil. “Because you don’t deserve to rule. You shouldn’t be king. You’re nothing. You’ve never cared about us sinners. You shouldn’t be allowed to be the one in charge of us.”

“And you think you’d be a better fit, is that right?” Lucifer asked calmly. Vox didn’t answer. “You think you’d be a better choice?” He leaned down until he was at Vox’s height. “Let me tell you something, Vox. The few demons that were left after your frankly idiotic decision to make them mindless soldiers were far fewer than all the ones you recruited. A king puts his people’s lives above his own, and from what I’ve seen of you, you do the opposite. You never fought in the war. You fought against the ones trying to stop it.” Lucifer sighed. “I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea, but I can’t say I’m surprised, either, from what I’ve heard about you.”

“Fuck you,” Vox growled.

“You can do better than that,” Lucifer said.

“You’re not better than me,” Vox spat. “You let millions of sinners die to Heaven’s exterminations.”

Lucifer grinned. “Better,” he said. “Now, I’ve already dealt with that and I’ll be trying to make up for it for the rest of eternity,” he said offhandedly. His grin widened. “What are you going to do to make up for the souls you got destroyed?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Vox hissed. “I tried to win the war for us, and I was doing it! They sacrificed their lives for the greater good!”

“No, you sacrificed their lives without their consent,” Lucifer corrected him.

“They were my souls—”

Lucifer’s eyes flared red, his horns grew out from his forehead and his halo slithered up one of them until it hovered above him. A flame burst into existence in the middle of the circle the halo created. It happened in such a short amount of time that Vox couldn’t finish his sentence before he felt the king’s hand around his throat.

“I don’t give a shit!” Lucifer roared loud enough to make Vox wince at the power behind it. He could feel himself start to tremble. The hand around his throat tightened its hold and lifted him up, before it slammed him down on his back and kept him there. Vox choked and grabbed onto Lucifer’s arm. “I don’t care about the fucking deals you had with them,” Lucifer sneered. “What I care about is you using souls in a fight they had no chance of winning! You think exterminations were bad? You let thousands, if not millions of demons run into danger without a single thought only to get slaughtered immediately. As a fucking overlord, you have responsibility over your souls, and since I have the overall responsibility of all demons, they are also my souls. You and your dumbass fucking friends weren’t winning a war. You were actively making it easier for Heaven to get the upper hand!” The hand tightened further. Vox couldn’t breathe. “We were not going to win the war, because it wasn’t possible to win the war.” He stated, before he started grinning the most terrifying grin Vox had seen. “No, you betrayed your own fucking people. You’re a traitor, Vox. And you did the outstanding move of walking right into the hands of the one person in this realm who has both the incentive and the means to get rid of you once and for all.”

Vox tried to speak, but the hold was too tight on his throat to let him. Lucifer seemed to notice and loosened his grip enough to let him talk.

“Why do you suddenly care?” Vox gasped.

“Oh, lots of reasons,” Lucifer said conversationally. “You know, first of all, letting Heaven win would be extremely bad for all demons, don’t you agree?” Vox glared at him, but yeah, Heaven winning would be really bad. It would be the end of demons, himself included. “Regular demons didn’t have a way into Heaven. It would need more energy than there is in the realm to get through a small group of them, let alone millions. A riot wouldn’t work. We’re down here for a reason,” Lucifer informed him, and if that was the case, then yeah, Vox had been played big-time by the fucking queen. He gritted his teeth at the thought. Lucifer grinned wider. “As for me suddenly caring about sinners, what do you think happened?”

“You fucked one,” Vox rasped. The hand around his throat tightened again.

“I fell in love with one,” Lucifer corrected him. “Or two, if I add my ex-wife,” he added. “That’s the reason you’re really here, isn’t it, Vox? You could’ve stayed in the shadows without being seen for a long time, and yet, here you are. Driven by your own rush to get revenge on what we did or didn’t do. Your assumptions brought you to the palace. Your possessiveness made it incredibly easy to get to you. Your own impulsiveness is your downfall.” Lucifer huffed. “Fitting, really,” he said.

The shadows beside Lucifer bubbled up and revealed Alastor. The Radio Demon smiled pleasantly down at his husband.

“Having fun?” he asked, making Lucifer’s eyes dim and go back to their regular look. He retracted his horns—the snake joining them back down, and the flame vanished.

“Oh, I love hunting traitors in the middle of the night,” Lucifer said and turned back to Vox. “Stay,” he ordered, the words feeling like they settled over him like a blanket that was too heavy to remove. He let go of Vox’s throat and stood. “Do you want to kill him, now, or do you want to wait?”

Alastor hummed thoughtfully. “It feels too soon. Letting him run around the palace isn’t nearly enough of a punishment for almost getting our realm destroyed.”

The king pursed his lips. “What about letting him stay in a failed sensory deprivation department?” Alastor raised an eyebrow at him. Vox did, too. “The one that had to be shut down because of the mental trauma those who ended up in it experienced?” Lucifer added slyly.

Alastor’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, yes. That could be a fitting place to keep him until I have time to take care of him,” he agreed. “Will he have some companions during his stay?”

Lucifer mirrored Alastor’s grin and glanced over to the pile of ducks. “Well, I think he really enjoys ducks,” he said. Alastor giggled making the king give him a soft look. Vox gulped and Lucifer glanced at him. “Some tend to bite,” he informed him before he started to move back towards the entrance. “Enjoy yourself, Vox. We’ll meet again, one day.”

Alastor stayed by Vox’s side. Vox stared at him, seeing the dopey smile on his face as he watched his retreating husband. The fucking paintings weren’t exaggerating. He looked completely lost for the king. There was no denying it.

“I’ve known you for longer,” Vox snarled. “We were friends for a long, fucking time, and you decided to go for the fucking fun-sized, embarrassment of a king.”

Alastor looked down at him. “Who said I met you first?”

Vox frowned. “What?”

“I’ve known him for longer,” Alastor informed him. Vox had been so sure the two of them had only gotten together after their introduction at the brat’s hotel. “I met him while I was still alive.” Vox’s eyes widened at that. Alastor’s expression grew distant. “You became somewhat of a poor substitute for a while, I believe. I missed my friend, and while you’re nothing like him, it was enough for the time being.” His eyes met Vox’s. Vox felt a shiver run down his spine. The disgust in them made his heart thud in his chest. “Then you decided to ignore my boundaries, and I realised you’d never even come close to what I’d had with him. I don’t respect you, Vox, but I respect him for all the shit he’s been through and all he’s done to fix his mistakes.” He tilted his head slightly. “You said you wanted to be king, yet you have none of the qualities needed to rule. Lucifer does. I hope that thought drives you mad while you’re stuck in here.”

“Is that why you married him? Because you respect him?” Vox asked, trying to fight against the order Lucifer had given him.

Alastor scoffed. “Heavens, no,” he said, waving him off. Vox furrowed his brow. “I married him because we respect each other. That, and because I love him more than anyone else in this universe.”

“This universe?”

Alastor ignored him. “He’s been dear to me ever since I met him. Of course, it took some time to realise that, but when I did, I understood I’d never be able to settle for anyone else.” He smirked. “Especially not someone who wanted me as nothing but a bed-warmer,” he sneered, making Vox grimace. “You never had to worry about competing against him, Vox.” He leaned down until his face was inches away from Vox’s. “You were never an option.”

With that, Alastor vanished into his shadow and reappeared outside of the room Vox was still stuck in. A moment later, the door slammed shut, leaving him with nothing but the light from his own screen.

Lucifer stood leaning against the wall. It had been quite the night. He’d woken up when Alastor moved away from him after his nightmare. He’d woken up again when Vox stormed in through the door, and he’d ended up running around the palace and terrorising a TV screen. Quite the night, indeed.

Louisa had settled herself around Lucifer’s shoulders, waiting for Alastor to return from his talk with his former friend. Lucifer always wondered what had happened between them. Alastor never really told him much about it, but Lucifer had pieced together a few things, at the very least. Broken trust and respect.

Alastor appeared from his shadow a moment later and closed the door. Lucifer let Louisa slither down from  his shoulders and shrink into the ring-sized snake she usually was, before he handed it silently over to Alastor, who let the snake settle around his finger, again.

“Do you have the key?” Alastor asked.

“No key needed,” Lucifer replied, snapping his fingers. The door vanished. Alastor huffed. “How’re you feel—”

Lips pressed gently against his own. Alastor placed a hand against his cheek, thumb running gently over his cheekbone. It didn’t last long. A quick kiss, but with Alastor’s words from earlier ringing in his head, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel the way his heart swelled. He gazed up at his husband, seeing his eyes glimmer.

“I’m still glad you found me that night,” Alastor muttered, letting go of his cheek.

Lucifer couldn’t help but grin up at him. “What a difference a day makes,” he sang quietly. “Twenty-four little hours.” Alastor rolled his eyes, but the amusement in them still shone through. Lucifer wanted to grab his hand, but he still wasn’t entirely sure if he should. Alastor might’ve kissed him, but that didn’t change the fact that his husband hadn’t been comfortable enough to grab it earlier. So, instead, he decided to just try and find other ways to show him exactly how much he loved him. “Brought the sun and the flowers,” he continued to sing, letting the familiar, crystal rose pop into existence. Alastor scoffed at him, but Lucifer just offered it to him with a wink. Alastor took it and placed it in his hair. “Where there used to be rain.”

The two of them started to make their way back towards their room. Alastor kept his hands behind his back as they made their way up the stairs. Lucifer jumped up on the railing, walking beside him as he kept singing.

“My yesterday was blue, dear.” He walked steadily, seeing Alastor keep an eye on him, as if he was ready to catch him in case he slipped or stumbled. Lucifer had no intentions of falling. “Today I’m part of you, dear,” he continued as they reached the main floor. He jumped down, landing gracefully. “My lonely nights are through, dear.” He walked backwards, letting his thumb run across where Alastor’s ring sat snugly around his finger. “Since you said you were mine.”

Lucifer yelped when Alastor rushed forwards and wrapped his arms around him. They fell right into Alastor’s shadow, and a moment later, they were back in their bedroom. Lucifer had fixed the door before he chased down Vox, so the two of them were shut off from the rest of the palace. Just them.

Surprisingly, Alastor kept holding onto him, and Lucifer hesitantly wrapped his arms around Alastor’s waist, giving him enough time to pull away if he didn’t want him to. But Alastor stood there, smiling down at him with his arms resting around Lucifer’s shoulders. Lucifer couldn’t help but stare.

“What a difference a day makes,” he sang almost inaudibly. It sounded more like a mutter than a melody at that point. “There’s a rainbow before me.” Alastor hummed with him. “Skies above can’t be stormy, since that moment of bliss, that thrilling kiss.” Lucifer grinned up at him, trying to convey just how much he loved him. He was pretty sure Alastor already knew, but he wanted him to understand it all the way down to his core. If Lucifer could’ve somehow showed him what he felt for him—well it would probably end with a stab, because if felt overwhelming even to him. “It’s Hell when you find romance on your menu.” Alastor giggled, clearly resonating with the change in lyrics. “What a difference a day made,” Lucifer murmured, tilting his head a little as he gazed up at him. “And the difference was you.”

“You do know how to serenade someone, love,” Alastor muttered, leaning down and pressing another chaste kiss to Lucifer’s forehead.

“Well, you make me want to sing at very particular moments,” Lucifer admitted, feeling Alastor move them towards the bed. Lucifer went willingly. It had been a long night, and they actually did have a meeting in the morning. If they were late, the other sins would just have to excuse them. Intruders at the palace hadn’t happened like this since the time someone tried to kidnap Charlie, and those had been dealt with quickly and sufficiently. “I guess I should put up the shields, again,” Lucifer muttered as Alastor got out of his hold. He sat down on the edge of the bed while Alastor went around to his side and got back under the covers. “People are usually too scared to try and infiltrate the palace, so I thought it wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Well, most people aren’t jealous TVs,” Alastor grumbled.

“True,” Lucifer huffed. “So, you think I should just leave it?”

“I highly doubt anyone else is going to try it,” his husband replied. He stared at Lucifer expectantly. “Are you just going to sit there?”

Lucifer blinked at him in confusion, before he realised what they’d been doing before Vox showed up. He smiled and turned into a duck, again. He waddled towards him, only to be stopped by a finger to his chest feathers. He looked down at the hand, before he met Alastor’s unimpressed look.

“What?” he quacked. “Do you want me to turn into something else?”

“Yourself, perhaps?” Alastor suggested quietly. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Lucifer was currently a bird, he would’ve blushed. Which was why he waited a little longer than strictly necessary to change back into his regular shape. Apparently, it didn’t matter, since he could still feel the warmth in his cheeks as he smiled down at his husband and moved under the covers. “Now, come on. I’d like to get some sleep.”

“You’re sure?” Lucifer asked.

“Absolutely,” Alastor huffed, opening his arms in invitation. “Having you hunt down and terrorise my rival truly helped with my mood.”

Lucifer smirked. “So, it has nothing to do with you wanting to give him an extra, little ‘fuck you’ for being a possessive ass?”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to question me, right now?” Alastor asked with a grin that told Lucifer that he’d kick him out of the room if he continued to tease him.

Lucifer pursed his lips, contemplating his options. “No, not really. I’ll shut up.”

“Good,” Alastor said.

“Great.” Lucifer huffed and got under the covers, shuffling closer to him.

“Fantastic.” Alastor said and wrapped him up in his arms again.

Lucifer hesitated once again with hugging Alastor back. “You’re completely---”

“Yes,” Alastor cut him off, grabbed his arm and settled it over his torso. Lucifer let out a startled, little laugh, before he pulled Alastor closer and snuggled up against his chest. “Now, shut up and go to sleep. I’m fine.”

“You know,” Lucifer muttered against him. “Saying you’re fine after having a shitty nightmare and then having the person from your nightmare come crashing though the door and into your room, only to chase the guy down and kick him into a closed down department of Limbo doesn’t sound too truthful.”

“Well, does he have any way of escape?” Alastor asked him.

“Not to my knowledge,” Lucifer said.

“So, the chance of him showing up, again, are small?”

“As close to zero as it gets,” Lucifer mumbled and yawned. “That department only has one door, the rest of it is basically endless. It’ll take an eternity before he would stumble across it, and if he has any braincells at all, he should stay put exactly where he is.”

Alastor stayed quiet for a moment. “You ordered him to stay.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Chapter Text

Alastor sighed as he saw Lucifer squirm in the seat beside him. The meeting with the sins had been taking longer than expected. Not only had there been some struggles with more of the sinners in the other rings, but the angels-in-hell situation had peaked during the last few days. It left them all with a lot to do, and a lot to discuss, which meant long meetings had become the standard. Again.

Lucifer tapped the armrest with his fingers. His leg bounced in agitation, and he looked more tense than Alastor had seen him in months. It didn’t help that it was Belphegor speaking. The sheep drawled and droned, and for each word spoken, the rest of the sins (except Lucifer) looked like they were all about to nod off at any second.

“Hey, Bel?” Lucifer spoke up after a particularly long and complicated sentence. Everyone turned to look at him. Belphegor raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need a break.” He got up. Alastor noticed that he was trembling ever so slightly. “Feel free to continue, or wait for me, I don’t know. I’ll be back in a moment.”

With that, he stepped away from the table and out of the room. They all stared after him, before they turned to Alastor.

“What was that about?” Beelzebub muttered. The other sins shrugged and looked at each other in confusion. Lucifer tended to be pretty good at staying in meetings like this, but something seemed wrong.  

Alastor sighed again. “I’ll go check on him,” he said as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood, following his husband out of the room. He closed the door behind him and tried to figure out where Lucifer had gone off to. It didn’t take him long to find him. He was leaning against a window sill, hugging himself tightly and staring off into the distance. “What’s going on?” Alastor asked, stepping over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Lucifer flinched. It wasn’t a reaction Alastor was used to from him, so he removed his hand quickly, only for Lucifer to turn to him. He reached out and grabbed his hand. He visibly relaxed, even if his grip was quite tight.

“Someone’s been trying to summon me since this morning,” Lucifer grumbled, interlacing their fingers and giving Alastor’s hand a squeeze. “It’s incredibly annoying, and while people usually give up after a while, these shits have been incredibly persistent.”

Alastor stared at him. “Summoning you?”

“Summoning me, yeah,” Lucifer scoffed. “It happens every once in a while, but after I got banned from Earth, it cut off the connection for summoners to summon me, too. And now that the connection is open, again, I’ve started feeling it, again.”

“People on Earth are trying to summon you, right now?” Alastor asked.

“They are, yeah,” Lucifer said, lifting up his free hand. Alastor could see the slight tremors in it. “They’ve been trying for hours.” He scowled at the trembling hand. “It’s pissing me off to the point where I’m actually considering taking a trip just to make them fuck off. It feels like being poked with a fucking stick.”

Alastor hummed in thought. He’d never been summoned before, and while he didn’t know the mechanics of it, he wondered what it was like. He’d heard some stories from some of the other higher-ranking demons about dealmaking on Earth, which wasn’t something the sinner demons had ever been able to do given the circumstances.

“Do you think I’d be able to go in your place?” Alastor asked, making Lucifer glance at him. “I mean, I don’t know how it works, but I do share some of your powers.” To illustrate his point, he created a small, red rose. He placed it in Lucifer’s hair, making his husband huff. “Maybe I’ll be able to intercept the signal, somehow?”

Lucifer thought about it, frowning a little. “I don’t know if you’d like to go. It’s not that fun. Usually it’s just some sob-story about their lives and not having money and such.” He grimaced. “Or the love shit. Failed romances can be extremely irritating to deal with. At least, for me. I prefer not having to delve into deals with humans that concern free will. Love is one of those.”

“I would certainly like to try,” Alastor said. “Maybe not the romance, but I could get some new souls for my collection. It would be a lot of fun having actual humans instead of just regular, old demons for a change,” he pondered. Lucifer still looked hesitant. “It would also stop you from being summoned.”

“You could’ve led with that,” Lucifer huffed making Alastor chortle and squeeze his hand. He bit his lip, before he met Alastor’s eyes. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he should let him go to Earth alone like that. A serious scrunch to his brow made Alastor regret asking to go in his place. He didn’t know how these things went, and while Lucifer usually let him do quite a few things by himself if he wanted to, the hesitation this time had to be because of something special. “I’d like to go with you the first time, but the situation, here, is too urgent to postpone,” he muttered. “Do you think you’ll be okay on your own?”

Alastor almost hesitated, himself, but he knew it would probably be better to take care of the summon and let Lucifer focus on the situation in Hell. “I’ll be perfectly fine,” he waved him off. His heart beat a little faster at the thought of actually going to Earth, though. It was one of those things he generally wanted to be a bit prepared for. “And if I don’t show up, you’ll find me, won’t you?”

“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to go rescue you,” Lucifer grumbled, before he fell silent. His eyes scanned Alastor’s face, before he took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “Fine.” He let go of Alastor’s hand. “I trust you. You’ll be fine.” It sounded more like he was reassuring himself rather than Alastor. “I just have to make a couple of adjustments to this, I guess,” he muttered as he covered the ring around his finger with his hand. Tendrils of golden light flickered over his skin, and a moment later, Alastor felt something poke his very soul. He almost reached for it, but Lucifer grabbed his arm, stopping him. “This is very fucking important, okay?” he said seriously. “If you get stuck, trapped, or otherwise incapacitated, tell me.”

“Tell you?” Alastor asked. Lucifer held his gaze while he reached over to his ring. He tapped the ruby on it, and Alastor’s ears twitched at the sound of a loud beep. The corner of Lucifer’s mouth tugged upwards as he continued to tap the ruby. Each tap was immediately followed by another loud noise. It took Alastor a moment to realise what was going on. “You know morse code?” he asked, feeling a little baffled.

“You do, too, right?” Lucifer asked, stopping the beeps. He reached over and took Alastor’s left hand, before he wiggled his finger in front of Louisa. He pressed a finger down on her head, and a moment later, he took Alastor’s other hand. “Did you get the frequency?”

“I—yes,” Alastor muttered, before he placed a finger on his little companion’s head. Lucifer’s ring lit up. “That’s certainly going to be annoying,” he said.

“We’ll fix it later,” Lucifer said. “The point is that I’ll actually be able to communicate with you.” He spawned a thin vial and handed it to Alastor. “Take this just in case.”

Alastor lifted it up and looked at the clear liquid. “What is it?”

“Hydrogen peroxide,” Lucifer said.

“Hydrogen—Why?” Alastor stuttered, feeling like he regretted his decision more and more. The amount of safety equipment Lucifer clearly wanted to give him made him start to realise that this could potentially be really dangerous.

“Well, if the rings don’t work, then I’d prefer it if you get away in other ways, and humans do love using blood to make summoning circles. If they trap you, you might be able to use that vial to get away.” Lucifer tapped his chest. “Keep it on your person, not in your void. Some of them are able to cut off your powers, too, if you’re really unlucky.”

“Right,” Alastor muttered, feeling his heart speed up further as he slipped the vial into his inner pocket. “And how do I get back if I need to get out?”

“When a deal is done, you get teleported back,” Lucifer said. “If you don’t make a deal, you can use the summoning circle.” He still looked hesitant, but a small smile still tugged on his lips. “And if you do get stuck, just tell me, and I’ll be right there.” He brought Alastor’s hands up and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

Alastor was a little taken aback by the amount of worry in his husband’s voice. “A couple of humans won’t be a problem,” he said.

“Yeah, but sometimes there’re quite a few more than a couple,” Lucifer muttered under his breath. Alastor felt another poke. Lucifer looked like he felt it, too. He guessed he’d just shared the signal or whatever it was that made them able to get pulled to Earth of all places. “Well, anyway,” Lucifer said, glancing at the door to the meeting room, before he turned back to Alastor. “You’ll be fine,” he repeated. “Just, if something happens that just makes your skin crawl, or if they try to do some other shit, just get out of there.” He grimaced. “Unless you’re trapped, then I’ll come get you,” he added.

“You should get back to the meeting,” Alastor said, making Lucifer purse his lips. “I’ll tell you all about it when I’m back,” he promised, leaning down and placing a kiss at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth.

“Please do,” Lucifer said with a nod and gave him one more look, before he let go of Alastor’s hands. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You’re acting like a worried parent,” Alastor said.

“I am a parent, and I’m also worried,” Lucifer replied, placing his hands behind his back as if to keep himself from grabbing onto Alastor again. “But yeah, just be careful.” His eyes widened slightly before he let another vial appear in his hand. This one was slightly bigger. “In case of a salt circle,” he said and handed it over to Alastor. Alastor dutifully placed it beside the other in his inner pocket. “Now you can leave.”

“Nothing else you feel I should bring?” Alastor asked, hoping he sounded amused enough to gloss over the fact that he was stalling a bit.

Lucifer shook his head with a shy smile. “Just the knowledge that I’ll be there if you need me, partner,” he said, before he blew Alastor a kiss and started moving backwards towards the meeting room. “Have some fun too, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.” Alastor grinned. He waited until Lucifer grinned back, before he felt the jab in his soul and hung on to it. He let it pull him away from Hell, and away from the hallway where his husband clearly wanted to see him off before returning to his meeting.

It felt strange. It was similar to how Lucifer usually teleported them around. However, with this, he had to cling onto the metaphorical stick that kept poking him to be able to get through on the other side. It took more effort than he thought it would, but soon enough, he appeared in a burst of black and green flames.

He blinked a few times, taking in the room around him. It wasn’t huge, but it was spacey enough. The walls were painted with pentagrams, tall candlesticks and torches were the only light sources, and the floor he was standing on was splattered with blood. A few lamb carcasses were flung in a heap in the corner behind a small group of humans crouching in front of him. There were about ten of them. One kneeled in front of the rest, facing Alastor. Everyone was wearing deep red cloaks, the backs embroidered with upside down crosses.

“Interesting,” Alastor said, making the people flinch and look up at him. He glanced down at the summoning circle. They’d made it out of blood. It made him feel extra thankful for his husband’s worry and foresight. Or experience, actually. He had no idea how many of these things Lucifer had gone to.

“It—you’re—oh my fucking Satan,” the priestess in front stammered.

“Not quite,” Alastor said, feeling a little extra amused.

“It worked!” she blurted out. Her face was hidden in the shadow of her hood. The rest of them also looked up, and a few gasps could be heard. One of them fell right back down in a bow, muttering something. “It’s real!” she continued, before she seemed to realise what she was saying. “I mean, of course it’s real.” She bowed down in front of Alastor. “Oh, our Lord. We are but worthless humans in your presence. Thank you for taking your time to visit.”

Alastor stared at her. “Well, you were incredibly persistent.”

“I apologise, sire,” she said. “Please, punish us for the interruption. We didn’t mean to annoy you.”

“I’m not the one you tried to summon,” Alastor said.

The priestess paused and looked up at him. “What?”

“You tried to summon the devil, right?” Alastor asked, tilting his head curiously. She nodded. “That’s not me. I’m the Radio Demon, dear. The devil was in a meeting.”

“The Radio—I’m sorry, I’m not following. What?” The priestess glanced at the others as if trying to figure out what to do. “Uhm,” she muttered, before turning around to look at Alastor again. “But the devil is real? Satan exists, right?”

Alastor found himself with the opportunity of the millennia. He grinned widely. “Of course, he’s real. However, he’s below me in the hierarchy.”

The priestess’ eyes widened, and the rest of the group murmured and whispered among themselves. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m his boss,” Alastor said, which wasn’t even a lie. Satan was below him, given his new status as Prince Consort of Hell. One could also argue Lucifer was under Alastor’s control, even if that was a bit more on the ‘Husband rights’ sort of thing. Lucifer rarely argued with him, at least. “He’s my follower like all the other demons in Hell.” Now he was stretching it, but the priestess of the group of cultists seemed to believe him. “You should worship me, not him.”

The priestess and the rest of the group balked at him. “What?”

Alastor sighed dramatically, before he reached out a hand to check if the summoning circle would keep him trapped or not. His hand met nothing but air, and he couldn’t help but huff at the lack of preparations, given who they were trying to summon. He guessed they didn’t think it would actually work, or they didn’t know about trapping a demon.

Or maybe he simply couldn’t be trapped by human magic. It did occur to him, but then he wasn’t entirely sure why Lucifer would give him a way out of the potential trap. He’d either been trapped, himself, once, or he’d heard about it happening to other demons. He guessed he’d have to ask him about it when he got back.

Either way, he knew he didn’t have to worry about these people. They worshipped the devil (or technically Satan, but that didn’t matter. They’d somehow managed to confuse the two of them into the same person), and because of that, he had a feeling they wouldn’t be a threat. Not that humans were much of a threat to him. Not to any demon, to be honest. Unless they were hunters, then they could do some damage.

He walked out of the summoning circle. The humans gasped, once again bowing down as if they were worried he would kill them if they didn’t. Alastor had no such intentions. He was mostly just curious about being summoned. Well, he hadn’t really been summoned, but still. It was interesting.

“Well, seeing as I’m the ruler of Hell, I’d say you should follow me instead of the giant lizard,” Alastor told them while walking around the little room. He glanced around at the carcasses. “Am I right?”

“You…” The priestess trailed off and looked up at him from under the hood. He could barely make out her eyes. “You’re the ruler of Hell?”

“Why, yes!” Alastor grinned, placing his hands behind his back and letting his crown take shape on his head. He watched the humans shuffle uncomfortably. “The little storybook you people follow barely has any truth to it,” he continued, walking over to one of the candles. He chuckled to himself as he let it change colour until it was flickering green. The rest of the flames in the room followed suit. “Unless the bible has been discarded since last time I was here?”

“No, no,” the priestess muttered. “It’s still in use.” She looked like she had no idea what to do with herself, or how to handle the situation. “I’m sorry. Look, we clearly had no idea we were following the wrong person. Please, sire, let us make it right.” She bowed her head again. “Tell us how you want us to worship you, and we will learn. We will give you our souls and be your devoted followers until the end.”

Alastor stared at her. “You’ll just give me your souls, just like that?” he asked. “No deals? No agreements?”

“We are devoted to the ruler of Hell, sire. We will follow you for as long as you let us.” The others murmured their agreements, except for one who sounded a lot more doubtful if they actually wanted to change their subject of worship. Alastor didn’t really care. It felt extremely strange that someone would just change their views so incredibly fast, but he wouldn’t complain. “So, please, let us give our souls to you as a way of showing our undying devotion.”

Alastor had no idea how that would work other than actually making deals. He didn’t want them to know that, though. He stepped over to the carcasses and grinned to himself, before he leaned down and ripped off a piece of flesh.

“Let’s wait with the souls for a while,” he said. The humans glanced at each other. “I don’t want your souls unless I know you’re truly devoted to me.” He held up the piece of lamb. “First of all, I don’t do lamb sacrifices. I prefer humans.”

“Oh, fuck,” someone hissed.

The priestess swallowed thickly as she watched Alastor bite down on the flesh. “Right,” she muttered. If it hadn’t been for the hood, Alastor had a feeling she’d be looking a little extra green.

“You sound hesitant,” Alastor said, making her clear her throat awkwardly. “You don’t seem as devoted to me as you first seemed,” he stated, stepping away from the carcasses.

“We—well, it’s not exactly easy to find someone to actually—”

“Really?” Alastor cut her off, letting shadows stretch through the room. The group of humans bowed down, more or less laying down on the floor, as if they were trying to hide. One of them sounded like he was getting sick, heaving and trembling. “I’d say there’s at least ten here who would happily die for me.” No one said a word. “No? What about a deal.”

The priestess looked up at him. He could see the white in her crazed eyes. “What kind of deal?”

Alastor chuckled, making the guy who was dry-heaving let out a terrified sob. “Whoever volunteers for a sacrifice will be rewarded with whatever you want in Hell.” He didn’t really know if he had that kind of power, but he wanted to see how far these people would go for him. “Or, let’s say a soul for a sacrifice. Bring me people to kill, and I’ll take a soul in return.”

“How’s that fair?” someone cried, but the priestess shushed them.

“I’ve already promised you our souls, but we want to show you our devotion without killing people.”

“That’s the only way I want to be worshipped,” Alastor replied wistfully. “Too bad. I was looking forward to a meal, today.” He sighed and stepped over to the summoning circle. He stepped into it. “If that’s all, I’ll be going—”

“Wait!” The priestess got up from her spot on the floor. “Wait. I’ll—I can sacrifice myself. Please, oh Lord, I want to give my life and soul to you.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re the one in charge, here, right?”

“I am,” she confirmed, bowing her head. “Please, take my life. I want to show you how much your visit has meant to me.”

Alastor pursed his lips. “No,” he said.

“No?” the priestess scoffed. “Why?”

“Because killing you would end up killing your new religion before it even started,” Alastor drawled. “I’d rather you go and spread the word.” He stepped over to her and held his hand out for her to shake. “I’ll give you the power to convince people to either join you or die by my hands, and you’ll give me your soul in return,” he offered with a grin. “Deal?”

She hesitated, before she got her hood off from her head. Alastor smiled a little wider. She’d painted her face with blood, too, for the occasion. She stared at the hand. A determined wrinkle settled on her brow before she reached out and shook his hand. He let the power flow through her. The candles and torches flared, leaving burn marks on the ceiling. The room was bathed in red and green, and Alastor felt a chain settle around the human’s throat. His eyes and the stitches covering him glowed green, illuminating her fear-filled face.

It only took a moment before the candles died down again. Alastor let the shadows vanish as he let go of her hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he told her, seeing her staring at her own hand in something between amazement and horror. “Do summon me again when you have a proper sacrifice for me. Not those damned lambs.”

“Yes, sire,” the priestess said distantly. She blinked a few times, before she curled her hand into a fist. She turned around to look at the guy snivelling on the ground. “You,” she said, making him look up at her with wide eyes. “Will you be the first sacrifice to show our devotion and loyalty to our new saviour?”

Alastor stared at her, before he glanced at the guy who got up. Damn, he thought as the human nodded and stepped closer to him. Well, Lucifer would probably not be too happy about the free will aspect of this, but Alastor found it incredibly entertaining. Oh, the opportunities were endless. And to think, him being worshipped by humans! He’d been nothing but a sinner, but here he was, actual people bowing down and devoting themselves to him. He’d read about cults before, but he’d never imagined anything like this.

“Please make it quick,” the sacrifice pleaded. He was trembling, and Alastor felt his thirst for blood spark to life. His teeth got sharper as he stepped closer. He glanced over at the priestess, who’s eyes were trained on him. It gave him an idea, and he created a ritualistic dagger. The blade was made of gold, and the handle was made of a deer antler.

“Why don’t you do it?” he told the leader and handed her the dagger.

“Me?!” she exclaimed, taking a step back. “I can’t just—I mean—No!” Alastor kept offering her the dagger. “I thought you wanted to do it yourself?”

“It would defeat the purpose of a sacrifice, wouldn’t it?” he pointed out, making the leader grimace. She let out a defeated sigh and took the dagger. “It’ll be worth it.”

“I fucking hope so,” she grumbled and stepped over to the sacrifice. “I’m sorry, Greg.”

“I’ll be fine,” Greg said, sniffling and drying his eyes. “I’ll be with our Lord.”

Alastor grinned. “In a way. You’ll have your own afterlife, and when I need you, you’ll be there for me. I don’t want someone to follow me around twenty-four-seven,” he told them pleasantly. Wouldn’t that be awful, he thought. He already had one moron following him around. He didn’t need another. Especially if there ended up becoming more of them.

The leader stepped closer to the sacrifice. Alastor grinned to himself as she placed the dagger against Greg’s chest, before she hesitated and lifted it up to under his chin. She cleared her throat and glanced over to Alastor.

“I don’t know how—What should I…?” She pulled her hand away from the sacrifice, holding he knife awkwardly, and Alastor sighed.

“I usually prefer a slow kill,” he muttered as he stepped over to the two of them. He tilted his head as he looked at the guy. “But I believe you’d prefer a quick and painless one, if I’m not mistaken?”

“You’d be correct,” she mumbled.

Alastor hummed and reached up until his claw settled under the sacrifice’s chin, forcing him to expose his throat. “I’d say cutting his throat would be the best option,” he told the priestess. “It’s quick and easy. It doesn’t need as much strength as going through the ribs to get to his heart,” Alastor explained. He glanced down at her. “Just be sure to cut as deep as you can so you sever the arteries.”

“Right,” she said hesitantly, letting Alastor remove his finger before she placed the dagger against the sacrifice’s throat. “So, just…?”

“Just cut it, indeed,” Alastor prompted. “Think of it as skinning an animal.” Greg didn’t look like he enjoyed that comparison. The priestess didn’t seem to notice. “Or cutting a turkey on thanksgiving.”

“Fuck,” she whined and slit Greg’s throat. Blood burst from his neck, spraying the two of them from head to toe. Alastor just closed his eyes with a snicker. The priestess groaned in disgust and horror. Greg was still standing, impressively enough, eyes wide and mouth gaping like a fish, before his eyes rolled back in his skull and he collapsed to the floor. “What the fuck?!” the priestess cried, dropping the dagger.

“Congratulations,” Alastor said, seeing the sacrifice still twitching on the ground. “Next time, I would like a little prayer beforehand, but this will suffice for now,” he told her, watching as the life drained out of Greg’s eyes. The priestess was crying and trying to wipe the blood off of her face. Alastor rolled his eyes and spawned a handkerchief, handing it to her. She was sobbing as she took it from him and started to wipe her eyes. “It’s fascinating how easy it is, isn’t it?” He used his foot to flip the body over its back. “A person can be there one moment and gone the next.”

“Fuck,” she whimpered, sniffling as she continued to wipe her face. “What the fuck have I done?”

“You’ve done exactly what I wanted you to do,” Alastor said, licking his lips and tasting the blood. It made that damned bloodlust flare up. He wanted nothing more than to crouch down and rip off a piece of the body’s flesh, but he held himself back. “You’ll get used to it,” he told her and crouched down, checking for a pulse. When he didn’t find one, he chuckled to himself and let the body sink down into his shadows. He made it look a bit extra, shadow-like hands stretching out from the ground and clawing and dragging the sacrifice with them down into his void. He could hear some of the humans cry behind him from the display. “Eventually, you might even enjoy it,” he said, feeling like she most likely would if she kept doing it. “You’re just helping them cross over faster. He’s probably already in Hell and joining the rest of my legion.”

“You really mean it?” the priestess asked.

“Of course!” Alastor grinned widely, grabbing her shoulders. She was still covered in blood, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be great to walk around looking like that, so he snapped his fingers and let his shadows cover her. The rest of the humans gasped, before a sigh of relief went through the group as the shadows retreated and brought the blood with them. “He’ll be treated with the respect he deserves.” Truth be told, Alastor had little-to-no knowledge about how it worked, but having people who were actually devoted to him in his legion that Lucifer had put him in charge of after becoming his advisor (and then husband), felt better than having people he didn’t know if he could trust. Another idea came to mind, and he smiled at her. “I think I have the perfect job for him, too. He’s not much for violence, it seems, so we might put him in the redemption department.”

“Oh,” the priestess hummed, the tears stopping. She rubbed her wet cheek with the back of her hand. “I think he’d like that.”

“Splendid!” Alastor grinned. “We do need people we can trust for that type of position. I’ll make sure most of you end up there unless you’d rather do something else for me,” he promised, feeling like it would work out pretty well. They’d had so much trouble with regular demons trying to work at the hotels and either not taking the job seriously, or being lying pieces of shit that decided to try and test Alastor’s patience (and Charlie’s, technically, but Alastor was more likely to give them the punishment they deserved for interfering with the redemption programs).

The rest of the humans seemed to like the thought of helping out with redeeming souls, too. The murmurs had a much more positive tone to them, at least. Alastor just had to make sure that Greg was a part of his collection. He couldn’t feel him, yet, which was slightly worrying. He’d ask Lucifer about it if he couldn’t feel him when he got back to Hell.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll take my leave,” Alastor said, stepping over to the summoning circle. “Do remember what I’ve promised you all. I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting,” he said, making the priestess swallow thickly and nod. The rest of the humans bowed down, again, chanting something under their breath that Alastor couldn’t quite catch. It sounded like it was in a different language he didn’t know.

The priestess lowered herself to her knees, joining the chant with her head bowed, hiding her face with the hood, again. Alastor paused, before he huffed and stepped back over to her. She looked up at him, and he bit his thumb, making his dark, almost black blood seep out of the small wound. He grinned and placed his non-bleeding hand under her chin and dragged the blood across her forehead, drawing a cross, mirroring his own mark from where he’d been shot as a human. He found it fitting. “You’re my high priestess,” he said. “You’ll bear my mark on your forehead and your soul.”

She looked completely speechless where she gaped up at him, and he grinned at her, before he licked the blood from his thumb and let go of her. She kept staring at him as he yet again walked over to the summoning circle. He felt the power of it beneath his feet. He tapped into it, using his own energy to open the gateway between the realms. He snickered darkly as he felt the pull of it, and let himself be washed away from Earth in another burst of green and black flames.

It felt a lot easier going back to Hell. He didn’t have to grab onto anything or use much energy at all to get through, which meant the trip took a lot less time, too. He reappeared back in front of the meeting room. He giggled to himself as he hurried over to the closed doors and opened them, only to see it deserted. His grin fell, before he hummed and closed the door, again. He really had to tell Lucifer about his trip. His husband would find it absolutely hilarious.

He let himself drop into his shadow and flash through the palace on the lookout for Lucifer. He checked their little library, first, knowing he sometimes ended up there, before he realised he’d been agitated and annoyed by the incessant prodding and poking from the humans’ trying to summon him. The meeting couldn’t have ended that quickly, so if Alastor knew Lucifer correct, he could possibly be taking a relaxing shower to calm down.

Alastor sped through the palace until he ended up in the bathroom. The shower was definitely running, and he could feel himself grin menacingly as he heard his husband sing to himself. It was some poppy tune. He felt like he’d heard it before quite a few years ago, but he wasn’t sure.  

“You light me up inside, like the 4^th of July,” Lucifer sang absentmindedly. “Whenever you’re around, I always seem to smile,” he continued, while Alastor fell back into his shadows. “And people ask me how, well, you’re the reason why, I’m—” Alastor let his shadow carry him into the shower. “—dancing in the mirror, and singing in the shower.” Alastor emerged from his shadow right behind his husband, seeing him scrubbing his hair. The water hit Alastor, too, making the blood he was covered with, drip down onto the white shower floor and into the drain. “La-da-dee La-da-da—”

“Lucifer!”

“—aAAAH!”

“I’m—stop screaming it’s me,” Alastor scoffed when Lucifer continued with his high-pitched scream. “I’m back.”

“What the fuck are you doing here!?” Lucifer exclaimed.

“I’m here to tell you about the—”

“No, here!” Lucifer cut him off. “In the fucking shower!” he clarified, making Alastor grin. His eyes landed on the blood on his coat. “Oh, you fucking bastard. Get out,” he grumbled. Alastor had no intentions of doing so. Not yet, at least. He had plans.

“Why, I thought you wanted to hear about me being summoned?” Alastor said mock-offendedly. The water from the shower had soaked through his coat and made his bangs plaster themselves over his eyes. He could barely see, to be honest.

“You’re fucking planning something,” Lucifer said, staring at him over his shoulder suspiciously. “Get out.”

“Oh, come on, Snuggle-Bunny McHoney-Pie,” Alastor drawled, feeling he was soaked through enough and wrapped his arms around Lucifer’s shoulders, pressing his bloody chest against his back. “You were worried about me, so I thought I’d get back to you as soon as I could.” He pressed a kiss to his cheek for good measure, making sure to rub the blood in as much as he could.

Lucifer glared at him. “I hate you.”

Alastor chortled and pulled away from him, seeing his husband’s shoulders and upper back covered in blood. A moment later, he found himself teleported outside of the shower. It only made him giggle harder as Lucifer continued to grumble.

“You’re in a good mood,” he pointed out gruffly, making Alastor snort. “How did it go?”

“Absolutely marvellous, darling,” Alastor replied excitedly as he leaned against the sink and ran a hand through his bangs just to get them away from his eyes. “They were worshippers.”

“Worshippers?” Lucifer asked. Alastor could see him try and scrub his cheek clean through the fogged-up glass doors.  

“Devil worshippers, to be exact,” Alastor said. “Cultists.” He snickered to himself. “They were quick to change who they were following when I told them I was one of the rulers of Hell.”

Lucifer paused. “You…” he trailed off, before he barked out a laugh. “Really?”

“Oh, yes, indeed-y!” Alastor confirmed, enjoying his husband’s amusement. “I even got them to sacrifice one of their own for me,” he told him, making Lucifer huff. “I think I finally figured how to deal with our little ‘hotel’ problem. They’re selling their souls to me just because they want good work in Hell, and we need people we can trust working at the hotels.”

“And you think you can trust them?” Lucifer asked.

“If not, I still own their souls,” Alastor replied. “I can make them do whatever I want. Just like our dear Husker. And, of course, Niffty. They seem to have started enjoying their place at the hotel more than I ever could’ve foreseen.” It had been quite annoying when he first found out that Husk had started enjoying being the bartender/receptionist at the hotel, but after a while, and after Alastor had started growing accustomed to his little gang of misfits, he’d realised it was probably a good thing. Especially when it came to advertising for working at the new hotels they’d built. “I’m sure my devoted followers would enjoy it. There aren’t a lot of good jobs for new sinners, as you know.”

“True,” Lucifer agreed thoughtfully, before he used a hand to remove the fog from the glass so he could peek out at him. “If you’re sure, I guess it could work.” He smiled sweetly at Alastor, who grinned cheekily back at him. “You really got them to sacrifice someone for you?”

“I did!” Alastor told him proudly. “I made a deal with the priestess to get me human sacrifices instead of lambs, and she apparently decided she wanted me to be sure of her devotion to me by sacrificing one of her own.” He watched Lucifer raise his eyebrows in surprise. He hesitated for a moment, making Lucifer’s eyes meet his. Alastor looked down. “It wasn’t completely free will from the sacrifice’s side, but he seemed to be more willing when I told him he’d get to work for me.”

“Did you bring him with you?” his husband asked curiously.

“I didn’t want his body to go to waste,” Alastor replied.

Lucifer huffed, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Are you going to quarter him, then?”

“That was the plan, yes,” Alastor admitted, his own curiosity flaring to life. “Why?”

“Well,” Lucifer muttered as he turned off the shower. “Could you get me a towel?”

Alastor pushed off from the sink and went over to the towel rack, picking up Lucifer’s towel. He moved over to his husband, who cracked the door open and took it from his hands. Alastor realised he should probably dry himself up, too, but discarded the idea, knowing he’d just get bloody again while skinning the human he’d brought with him. He ended up back at the sink.

“I was thinking I could work on that morse code system for the rings,” Lucifer said as he stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist. He combed a hand through his wet hair and stepped past Alastor to a pile of clothes he’d gotten ready before his shower. “If you’re going to use the evening quartering some guy, I was thinking I could keep you company, if you’d like?”

“Make an evening out of it, you mean?” Alastor asked.

“I got some new wine Rosie recommended,” Lucifer said with a grin. “She said it worked really well with raw meat. Completely revolutionary, apparently. A must for any cannibal.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell me about it,” Alastor muttered. Lucifer pulled a t-shirt over his head and put on some sweatpants, before he used his towel to make one of those turbans. “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“No,” Lucifer huffed and opened a portal to the kitchen. He nodded for Alastor to join him, and Alastor followed him through the portal. He unbuttoned his coat and shrugged if off, before he tossed it back into the bathroom before Lucifer closed the gateway. He started rolling up his sleeves while his husband got a couple of glasses from one of the cupboards and placed them down on the counter. “She just came by with it while you were busy with the hotel a couple of days ago, and I decided I could wait for the next time we had an opportunity to spend some quality time together.” He let the wine appear in his hand and got the cork out with his claw, before he poured it into the glasses and handed one of them to Alastor. “I just forgot to tell you about it.”

“I see,” Alastor said, looking at the wine in his glass, swirling the liquid gently. He sniffed it, humming pleasantly at the smell, before he took a sip, letting it coat his tongue. Rosie had definitely found something special, he decided, as he felt the taste linger.

“She knows her wine,” Lucifer commented as he sipped to his own glass. He shuffled over a bit and jumped up on the counter, letting his legs dangle. “Am I in the splash sone?” he asked.

“Possibly,” Alastor said, before let the body drop out of his void and land on the kitchen island. The dead eyes that looked back at him made him grin a little wider as he took another sip to the wine. Blood dripped down the side of the table and splattered on the floor. “He did get drained pretty thoroughly, though.”

“I’ll just put up a bit of a shield, just in case, then,” Lucifer muttered, pulling his legs up and crossing them. Alastor could see the air flicker and glimmer between the two of them. It made him huff as he got one of the meat cleavers out from one of the drawers, as well as a knife sharpener. He sharpened the knife expertly. “Is the beeping going to annoy you?” Lucifer asked when he pressed a finger to his ring, making a loud beep ring through Alastor’s ears.

Alastor cringed. “You could make it less loud,” he grumbled, and a moment later, the sound lowered considerably. It didn’t feel grating on his ears like it had, at least. He placed the knife sharpener down beside Lucifer, before he gave his husband a considering look and got a hair tie out of his void. Lucifer noticed it and sipped to his wine with a smile. He didn’t say anything. “Do you need Louisa, too?” Alastor asked while getting most of his hair up in a short ponytail.

“Sure,” Lucifer said and held his hand out. The snake slithered from around Alastor’s finger and over to him, curling up around the finger next to Lucifer’s ring. “Hello,” he greeted the snake gently. Louisa wiggled happily.

Alastor got to work on the body while Lucifer kept working on his morse code system. He took his time, listening to his husband keep humming the song he’d been singing in the shower. It got a bit repetitive after a while, so he let his own music spill out into the air around them. Lucifer scoffed, but didn’t seem to mind it, much. It was an enjoyable afternoon, and after Alastor had gone over to cut up the body more precisely, he felt a new soul join his collection. He grinned to himself, knowing he would have to talk to Charlie about his plan to use the cultists in the other hotels. They were planning on making six extra hotels, and quite a few of them were already done.

He decided to go and get Greg’s soul when he was done with his body.

Lucifer jumped off of the counter and stepped over to him, handing the snake back over, telling him about how to activate the system he’d been working on. It would take more effort and actual power, this time, so if he just accidentally touched Louisa’s head, he wouldn’t send a signal to his husband. Lucifer then helped pack the meat in paper and place the wrapped pieces in the fridge.

With that done, Lucifer tapped Alastor’s shoulder, getting rid of the blood covering him, as well as cleaning up the kitchen with nothing more than a glance. He told him he’d go and get ready for the next meeting he had the next day, and Alastor decided to use the opportunity to find his new soul and introduce him to Charlie and the rest.

He got another coat from his room, before he got his hair out from the ponytail and made sure he looked more representable than he had when he got back from Earth. When he felt ready, he honed in on the new soul in his collection.

It took him less than five minutes, teleporting right to the guy. Greg looked quite different than he had on Earth. A hare, it seemed. He was curled up against a wall, looking completely lost and terrified.

“Ah, there you are,” Alastor said as he stepped over to him. Greg sucked in a sharp breath and looked up at him, eyes widening as he recognised him. “Welcome to Hell.”

“Sire,” Greg breathed, hurrying to bow down in front of him. “You came for me.”

“I did!” Alastor grinned and let his new soul worship him for a moment longer. “Though, there’s no need to kneel, here. Don’t look weak.”

Greg glanced up at him, looking slightly confused before he pushed himself up on his feet. “Sorry, sire.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Alastor told him offhandedly. “Now, do come along. I have the perfect place for you. You’ll love it.”

Greg blinked at him. The fear seemed to dwindle down. Alastor wasn’t used to having people feel safer in his presence, but given his new soul’s usefulness, he didn’t want to ruin it. If the cultists trusted him and respected him, there was less of a chance that they would end up trying to riot or go against the hotel’s purpose.

“So, this is Hell?” Greg asked once they started their walk towards the hotel. The people they passed stared at them. Well, they stared at Alastor. The life as a royal as well as one of Hell’s greatest heroes and all that. He enjoyed the attention, but he did miss seeing them flee. “It’s not what I expected.”

“Ah, yes. The flaming inferno the bible likes to portray it as. Or those awful films you all are so fond of.” Alastor stepped around a body on the ground. Greg grimaced as they passed it. “It’s more about violence than punishment, I’m afraid. Heaven and Hell are nothing more than realms people get sorted into based on their souls and how much they value their freedom in comparison to being at peace.”

“Oh,” Greg muttered.

“The problem is that some people change their minds during their stay, here,” Alastor continued. They weren’t that far from the hotel, thankfully. He just hoped Charlie was free. “Which is why we’re working on getting those souls to Heaven through redemption programs. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Alastor said with a smile as they walked around the last corner towards the outskirts of Pentagram City. He could see the hotel at the top of the hill. “We need people to work at the redemption hotels, and who better than someone I know I can trust?” Alastor said, trying to keep his voice from sounding too fake. He didn’t know if he could trust these sacrificial souls, but he’d give them the benefit of the doubt, at the very least. Greg seemed to gain some extra confidence from Alastor trusting him, so he had a feeling this could go a lot better than he could ever imagine. “I’d say this job is the most important in all of Hell, actually.”

“Really?” Greg sounded hopeful.

“Certainly,” Alastor replied as they stepped closer to the Hazbin Hotel. “I don’t know if you’ll be put in charge just yet, but I’ll introduce you to the princess, and she’ll decide what to do with you.” Greg looked nervous, again, and Alastor supressed the urge to roll his eyes. “You’ll be fine,” he assured him. “She’s probably the kindest soul in all of Hell.”

They walked over to the hotel doors. Alastor stepped inside, hearing how the demons in the lobby fell silent as they turned to look at him and his follower. Greg looked more nervous as he took in the sight of them, probably still not used to the inhuman appearances they all sported. Alastor grinned, spotting Husk by the reception desk. He made his way over, feeling Greg staying as close to him as he could.

“Husker, my good man,” Alastor greeted him, making Husk glare at him.

“What the fuck do you want?” Husk scoffed.

“I need to talk to Charlie. I have a new recruit for the other hotels,” Alastor told him, which actually made Husk look a little more interested. He glanced over at Greg. “Is she free?”

“Al!”

Alastor turned to see Charlie step out of the elevator. She beamed at him as she hurried down the stairs.

“Charlie!” Alastor exclaimed, hurrying over to meet her. He let her bring him into a tight hug. “I think I found the solution to our little hotel problem,” he told her when she let him go.

“You have?” Charlie looked slightly sceptical. “Are you sure?”

“Have some faith in me, will you?” Alastor huffed and turned around to look at Greg. “This is Greg,” he introduced. “Greg, this is Charlie Morningstar, the Princess of Hell, daughter of Lucifer himself.” The way Greg’s eyes widened made him smirk. “She’ll get you all the training you need to work at one of the hotels.”

“Y-Your Highness,” Greg said, bowing his head. Some of the demons snickered. Alastor gave them a warning look, which made them shut up, again. A few of them even got up from their place in the lounge and out of the room, just in case Alastor decided to do something to them for their lack of respect.

“Oh, just Charlie is fine,” Charlie huffed. “I’ll get someone to help you out,” she said, before she grinned at Husk, who looked less than pleased to get the initial introduction task. “Husk, why don’t you show him the ropes?”

Husk sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled, nodding for Greg to follow him for a tour around the hotel. Greg hesitated, but after a quick glance at Alastor, he walked after the cat demon. “Greg, was it?” Husk asked the new sinner as they moved farther into the hotel and away from the two royals.

“You seem really sure about this guy,” Charlie said once they were out of earshot.

“I got him straight from Earth,” Alastor said, making Charlie stare at him. “He arrived a couple of hours ago, or so.”

“What the fuck, Al?” Charlie hissed. “You can’t just kill humans and get their souls to work—”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Alastor cut her off. “He was a sacrifice. Right now, he’s a devoted follower of mine, actually.”

“What?”

Alastor grinned. “Well, your father was being summoned by a few cultists and I took his place. It didn’t take much coaxing to make them change who they were following,” he told her. Charlie looked much less pleased than Lucifer had. Well, Lucifer had looked more amused than anything, though, but his entire view on humans and their place in the universe was a bit more skewed than his daughter’s. “Greg’s been my devoted follower for hours, now.”

Charlie sighed and looked at where Greg and Husk had disappeared off to. “And you’re sure about this?”

Alastor tilted his head. “Not really, but I do believe he’s the best option we have, at the moment,” he said, placing his hands behind his back as he followed Charlie’s gaze. “I promised them that they would be part of the redemption programs for their souls. I own them, which makes it a lot easier to control them, too.” He smiled down at her, seeing her scepticism. “It’s going to be a lot like Husk or Niffty, but with a lot more free will since they actually want to work for me,” he told her.

“I don’t know, Al,” Charlie muttered.

“Why don’t we give them a chance, and if anything, we’ll figure something else out? I really do think this might be the only way we’re going to get someone mildly trustworthy to take care of the other hotels instead of trying to get already-redeemed souls back into Hell to work for us.”

She looked at him, contemplating her options. “Okay,” she said finally. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“We still need others who’ve been here for a while, too, but they might work as guides,” Alastor said. “We’ll just need to teach them and train them what to do.”

“Why does it sound like you think we’re going to have more of them running around?” Charlie said after a moment of silence.

Alastor grinned. 

Chapter Text

“Lord!”

Alastor blinked as the room around him came into view. He didn’t recognise it, but from what he could see, it was the same priestess as the last few times he’d gone to Earth. The plan to use Greg in the hotel had worked exceptionally well (exactly like he’d thought), and his training was coming along nicely. Charlie had wanted to introduce him to the hotel he would be in charge of—the Twilight Hotel, which was one of the six new ones.

“We got a new place to house all our new followers,” the priestess told him excitedly, grinning from ear to ear as she gestured to the rest of the room. She wasn’t wearing the cloak, this time, clearly not thinking of this as one of the official meetings. “No more cramped cellar,” she continued proudly.

The room in itself looked pretty uninteresting, but the sheer size of it made him pause. He’d been summoned a few more times since the first one he’d done for Lucifer, and while he’d noticed that there’d been a couple more cultists every time, he definitely didn’t think there were going to be enough to fill such a big space.

“You summoned me here to show me this?” Alastor asked as he stepped out of the summoning circle and down from the dais at the forefront of the room. It was the size of a proper church, and it made him start wondering how in the world she’d gotten enough money to buy it. “How many new members did you get?”

“Quite a few,” she said, that same, proud smile still on her lips. “You’ll see when we gather everyone for the next sacrifice.”

Alastor hummed quietly, taking in the tall ceiling and the old, wooden structures and pillars going in two straight lines down the middle of the room, almost like they were lining the aisle of a church. The more he looked around, the more he realised it actually looked exactly like an old church. A run-down one, at that. Abandoned, his mind suggested.

“This is a church,” he said, making his way down the aisle (feeling his heart warm at the thought of the last time he walked down an aisle, which wasn’t more than a few months earlier). There wasn’t anything in there, but when he turned around, he saw a huge picture of Jesus hanging on the wall. Alastor scoffed at it. “One of the worse depictions of him I’ve seen,” he muttered, mostly to himself, but the priestess definitely heard it if her existential-crisis-looking stare told him anything. “I’m sure you’ll get rid of that atrocity before you summon me here, again?”

“Oh, absolutely, sire,” the priestess croaked. “I just wanted to show you without the rest of us, here. We’re going to make it more fitting for you. Rebuild and such. It’s not in the best state, yet, but it’s got some great potential.” She waved up at the wooden pillars going from the floor to the roof. “There are some cracks in these, so we’re thinking of trying to get them replaced and paint them. We’ve even hired someone to create something much cooler than a painting for you to keep behind the altar.”

Alastor once again wondered about the amount of money these people had. “Sounds expensive,” he commented, hoping she would tell him more about it.

“Oh, it is,” she muttered. “But you’re worth every cent, Your Highness. With our new members, we’re actually managing to bring in quite a bit of money.” She patted the pillar beside her. “As for the job, itself, we’ve got some members who are construction workers, as well as carpenters, which will help us out in their spare time.”

Alastor looked at her. “How much would you need to get this place up and running before the next ceremony?” he asked her. The grimace she gave him was all he needed to understand it would be a lot more than what they had. He huffed and got one of the suitcases Lucifer liked to hand out to people who usually only needed a fragment of what it housed, out of his void and handed it to her. “Don’t use this for personal gain.”

“What?” She accepted the suitcase and opened it, eyes widening at the amount of money. “What the fuck? You can’t be serious.”

“I see it as an investment,” Alastor told her with a grin. “You’re giving me souls, and for you to be able to do that more efficiently, I’ll give you the means you need.” He looked around at the old, abandoned church. “The more presentable you get this place, the more people might want to join you, too.” He glanced at the suitcase before he met her eyes. “Use the rest of it to convert people.”

“I will, sire,” she said, bowing her head respectfully. “How’re Greg and Josephine doing?”

“They’re doing perfectly well, my dear,” Alastor assured her. “Greg seems to really enjoy his new position, and Josephine is just getting integrated. She’ll get her position in one of the other redemption departments, soon.”

Josephine had been the second human sacrifice. She’d been part of the cult, too, though. Alastor wasn’t sure if the priestess would be able to convince anyone to be a human sacrifice for a cult no one had heard about, but for now it seemed to work well enough. His fridge was filled up nicely with human meat, the hotels felt closer to become ready for opening given the new souls who felt surprisingly trustworthy, and as an added bonus, Lucifer didn’t seem to mind him taking care of the summons. He even seemed to be happy Alastor got rid of the prodding and poking a summon felt like, which made it easier for him to focus on Hell and the problem with the visiting angels disappearing.

“That’s good,” the priestess said, clearly relieved. “It makes killing them feel more justified. They’ve gotten what they wanted.”

“Of course,” Alastor replied. “I’m a man of my word.”

The priestess nodded in understanding, before she offered to show him the rest of the building. It wasn’t that much to it, given its vacant state, but the potential was definitely there. It would also look quite unassuming to people walking by, which was another good thing. The only thing he wasn’t completely sure about was the fact that he didn’t know what happened to the people who vanished without a trace. Well, he knew exactly what happened to them, but the families and friends of those people would be worried, wouldn’t they? Hopefully it wouldn’t become a problem, but just to make sure, he asked the priestess what she told the families.

Her response surprised him to the point he had to stop and stare at her.

“What?” he blurted out.

“They joined the religion as soon as they heard,” she repeated. “I think it was to see what we were doing to people, at first, but then, after our sermon, they seemed to decide to join us properly.” She grinned to herself. “I don’t know what you did to me, but it’s working really well.”

“So, it seems,” Alastor said hesitantly.

Shit.

Okay, he’d definitely overdone the amount of power he’d given her. He glanced down at his own hand, keeping his face neutral as his eyes landed on Louisa. He kept forgetting how powerful he was sometimes. Lucifer’s powers had taken some weeks to get properly used to, but now that it had been a few months, he felt like it had become normal. The problem with that was that he was still dealing with people like he’d done before.

The priestess was a human, and thus had no powers to begin with, which made it even more difficult to give her just enough so she could convince people to join her cult. He’d overdone it. He knew he had. It could potentially go both ways, to be honest. Alastor had a feeling he should be a bit extra careful, just so his cult didn’t end up being the biggest in human history. If she could convince the family and friends of those who were sacrificed to join the cult and not care that their family member got their throat slit during a demonic ritual, then she would be able to convince anyone on Earth to join, which, as mentioned, could become a problem.

Maybe not so much for himself, but they definitely didn’t need to end up getting in Heaven’s bad graces. Again. They’d been there, and now that everything was good between the realms (if you didn’t take the kidnapped angels into account), they couldn’t afford to ruin that because Alastor had been stupid with the amount of power he’d given the high priestess of his cult.

Well, it wasn’t anything he could do about it, now. He would take care of it if it got out of hand. For now, it looked like they weren’t exactly doing much of anything except gathering members and rebuilding the old church they’d somehow been allowed to buy.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” The priestess hurried over to a bag on the floor after they got back to what was actually the chancel. There weren’t that many rooms, so it hadn’t taken too long to get through the entire building. Just four extra rooms. They even had a non-functional pipe organ on the second floor overlooking the rest of the church, which was quite impressive. Alastor almost hoped they would get it up and running. “We got someone to make us some new cloaks,” she said as she pulled out a dark red fabric from the bag and held it up to show him.

Alastor hummed and took it from her. He turned it over in his hands and let it unfold, seeing it was long enough for himself. He flipped it over to check the back of it, seeing golden, embroidered deer antlers going up the shoulders on either side of the spine. They almost looked like wings. It was incredibly well-made, he realised, as he ran a finger over the shimmering thread. Every seam looked impeccable. Between the two antlers rested a small, almost triangular shape. It was his microphone with the words “Cultus Cervi” carefully embroidered inside of it. The Cult of the Deer if his Latin was any good.

“It’s for you,” the priestess said, placing her hand on her hips. “We thought since you’re our sovereign that you’d like one for yourself, too,” she told him. “Ours don’t have the gold, like yours, but it’s of a similar design, at least. We wanted you to stand out from the rest of us.”

“Thank you,” Alastor said, not entirely sure if he would join the cult when it came to wearing a cloak, but when he looked at the hood of it, he realised they’d even made sure to add holes for his ears and antlers. It almost made him laugh, but he managed to supress it. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his cheeks, though. “It looks great,” he told her as he opened the clasp and put it on. It draped itself nicely over his shoulders. The weight of it felt almost comforting. “I think I might wear this, actually,” he muttered to himself, pulling the hood on and making sure to get his ears and antlers through the holes. “Perfect fit!”

“It looks amazing on you, sire!” the priestess complimented with a wide grin of her own. “The rest will definitely respect you even more if you wear it. I know it.”

“I’m sure you do,” Alastor said, letting his shadows cover, it before he let it vanish into his void until he needed it. He had to show Lucifer when he got back. “I’m looking forward to see how all of this looks when everything is fixed.”

“Same,” the priestess huffed. “I can’t wait. Like, literally. The moment you leave, I’m calling in the rest and we’ll clean it up and get it ready for the renovation.” She pursed her lips. “I just wanted your input on some of the ideas we have, first, just in case there’s something you absolutely don’t want.”

“Like anything lamb related,” Alastor said.

“Is it because of sacrificial lambs usually being associated with God or something?” the priestess asked curiously.

“No,” Alastor said, getting a flash from his recurring dream and that damned smile from the lamb in the clouds through his mind. “There’s no connection.”

“Oh,” she muttered. She sounded like she wanted to keep digging, but refrained from it. Smart girl, Alastor thought. “So, any other animal is fine?”

“I’d prefer deer, if you want me to be completely honest,” he said. “A couple of goats, too, maybe, but deer are fine.”

“We’ve bought in a lot of deer skulls and bones we’re going to use while decorating,” she said as the two of them walked up onto the dais and over to the summoning circle. “We even got someone to make tapestries.” The pride was back in her expression. “We want to worship you right.”

“Much appreciated,” Alastor said as he stepped onto the circle. “I’m sure it’ll look splendid when I return.”

“I’ll summon you the moment it’s all done,” the priestess promised, once again bowing her head. “Thank you for taking the trip. I’m sure you’re really busy.”

“Busy enough, at least, but it’s nice with a break every once in a while,” Alastor said, knowing he’d been a lot less involved in the angel situation than he’d been just a few weeks earlier when the demons in Heaven had been more problematic. Lucifer had taken care of that, and now he could focus more on Hell and what it needed to make people stop kidnapping angels all the time. “It’s been nice to see what you plan, at least. I look forward to see it done.”

“Do you want me to summon you before the sacrifice so you can see it?”

Alastor nodded. “That would be lovely,” he said with a grin. “I’d love to see all the little details you humans come up with to show your devotion to me.”

“Then I’ll summon you as soon as it’s all done,” she agreed, before she paused with a tilt of her head. “Unless I summon you before the actual ritual and you can hide around here until it’s showtime?”

“That’s also a possibility,” Alastor said, knowing a longer stay on Earth instead of more frequent ones would be preferrable. Lucifer would probably mind it a lot less if Alastor didn’t go too often, at least. Not that he thought Lucifer would mind either way, of course. His husband seemed to be okay as long as he wasn’t being pestered by the constant prodding for his attention. “I’ll leave that decision to you,” he said, feeling like he should get going. It was meeting day, after all. Well, every day felt like meeting day. They were meeting with Heaven to discuss the issue, and Lucifer had wanted him to be there until the two of them had felt the pull of the summon and Alastor had offered to go just to make them stop. “Adieu,” he said.

The priestess waved excitedly at him as he let the summoning circle bring him back to Hell, and back into the meeting room where he’d been earlier. Lucifer glanced at him as he arrived, before he turned back to where the angels were talking about different solutions they’d come up with for angels and winners travelling to Hell. Emily stopped talking when she noticed him having returned.

“I’m sorry for the interruption. Please continue,” Alastor told her kindly.

“Right,” Emily said, clearing her throat before she continued to talk about a tracking system for the visitors that would hook up to their phones.

Alastor leaned back and listened, until he heard four short beeps, followed by three long ones, and then a short one followed by two long ones. Alastor had to hold back a snort as Lucifer asked him how it went on Earth through their little morse code system. It had become a pretty fun way to communicate during meetings, especially after Lucifer had continued to improve the connection between them to the point where it felt more like background noise for Alastor, and Lucifer’s ring just buzzed instead of lighting up. It was a slow way to talk, but better if they wanted to hold a conversation while they technically had other things to do and other people were present.

Alastor replied to him, tapping Louisa’s head gently. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him when he told him the humans had gotten him a church and a cloak, before his husband said he wanted to see the cloak for himself.

“So, what do you think?” Emily asked, and Alastor remembered that he was still in a meeting. “I’d love some feedback on this, just so we can get this working properly.”

“Wouldn’t they be a bit mad about having their every move tracked?” Lucifer asked, clearly having been able to pick up on something the seraph had mentioned. “Demons would hate that.”

“Winners and angels aren’t exactly opposed to being tracked as long as it’s a safety feature and not just general tracking wherever they go,” Raphael said as he flipped through his papers. “But if you have some better ideas, we’re all ears.”

“What about some sort of panic button?” Alastor asked, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands on his knee. “If something happens, they can just press the button and they get teleported back into Heaven.”

“Well, that works as long as they keep the button in their hand at all times,” Gabriel said. “A visitor ring, maybe?”

“The amount of energy needed to power them would limit how many angels and winners could be in Hell at the same time,” Emily sighed. “It would be a good idea, but after we managed to sort out what to do with the demons in Heaven, they seem to have ended up getting more confident about going on trips to Hell. I don’t know, guys. It just seems like we’re back at square one with this one,” she told them grumpily.

“If only I could create a law for not messing with you guys, but that wouldn’t work,” Lucifer grumbled. “How much energy are we talking when it comes to those panic rings?”

Raphael hummed to himself as he scribbled something on the paper. “Ugh, I hate math,” he muttered, leaning over the table as he continued to calculate. He let a calculator pop into existence a moment later. He glanced up at Emily. “Do we know what happened to Jackson? He’s the one who was in charge of these things.”

Alastor met Lucifer’s eye. Well, they didn’t know what had happened to him after their fall, but before that he’d been an annoying little shit.

“I have no idea,” Emily said as she leaned on the table. “He just vanished right after the war, so I thought maybe he somehow ended up in the middle of the battle trying to look for us or something, but no one have mentioned seeing him.”

“Too bad,” Raphael mumbled as he lined under something he’d written. “Well, if my calculations are correct, the amount of energy we would need is a lot.”

“Fantastic,” Alastor said sarcastically, feeling Lucifer kick his shin under the table. “And exactly how much is ‘a lot,’ if I dare ask?”

“Too much,” Raphael replied curtly.

“Back to the drawing board, I guess,” Lucifer said, resting his head in his hand. He wrote something down in his notebook before he closed it. “We can go for the tracking idea until we figure out something better. If anything, it’ll be a lot easier to find whoever disappears.”

“We’ll come up with something better,” Emily agreed and clapped her hands together. “If that’s all, I’m sure the two of you won’t be too mad if we schedule the next meeting for next week?”

“That sounds good,” Lucifer said, letting his notebook vanish in a puff of gold. “Same time?”

“Yup,” Emily agreed, getting up from her chair. “Thank you for hearing us out.”

“Well, it’s a problem for all of us,” Lucifer huffed and pushed himself away from the table. Alastor got up with the rest of them. “I just hope we can come up with a better system, soon.”

“We’re all trying to come up with something,” Emily replied with a kind smile. “We’ll see what happens.”

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah. We’ll probably keep discussing it until the next meeting,” he said, looking at Alastor, who nodded in agreement. They usually had some conversations and tried to solve the issues that came up while having a drink during quiet evenings, or even while playing a game of chess. “Thank you for coming,” Lucifer said to the angels, who said their goodbyes before they opened a portal and left. Lucifer immediately turned to Alastor the moment it closed. “Show me the cloak,” he said, a strange excitement in his voice.

Alastor giggled and let his shadows settle the cloak back over him. Lucifer let out a quiet ooh, before he grinned. Alastor gave him a little twirl, only to stop with his back to his husband, who immediately stepped closer to check out the embroidery. Alastor could feel his fingers trace over the pattern. It was a feather-light touch.

“That’s some great craftmanship,” Lucifer muttered as his hand settled between Alastor’s shoulder blades where the little microphone was. “Cultus Cervi,” he read quietly. “Has a nice ring to it,” he said.

“They definitely got caught up in my looks more than my title,” Alastor huffed.

“I would, too,” Lucifer said cheekily, making Alastor glance at him over his shoulder and scoff. Lucifer just patted his back with a smirk, before he walked around him and grabbed the edges of the cloak, checking the fabric and the seams. “All jokes aside, though. I mean, it’s a really nice cloak, and you seem to enjoy yourself.”

“I am,” Alastor admitted. “I didn’t know it would this much fun being worshipped like a god.”

Lucifer snorted. “Well, now you know why dad likes it.”

“Well, his followers have been misguided for a long time,” Alastor said. Lucifer gave him an amused look, before he let go of the cloak and let Alastor hide it away in his void, again. “I know you agree.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t,” Lucifer huffed and nodded for him to follow him out of the meeting room. He opened the door for Alastor. “Did they seriously get you a fucking church?”

“They needed a place to house all the new followers,” Alastor said as he stepped outside. He offered his arm to him, and Lucifer rested his hand in the crook of Alastor’s elbow, letting Alastor lead him through the palace towards their wing. “Apparently they’ve gotten quite a few new ones.”

Surprisingly (or maybe not that surprisingly), Lucifer hesitated at that. “How many?” he asked.

“She wouldn’t say,” Alastor replied. “She wanted it to be a surprise for the next sacrificial ritual.”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. “Just be a bit careful with the numbers,” he said. “A small cult isn’t that much of a problem, but the bigger it gets, the more problems it can cause for those who aren’t in it.” Alastor glanced at him. “Christianity wasn’t all fun and games for a long time,” he murmured. “Humans take their religions incredibly seriously.”

“I’m aware,” Alastor muttered. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye on it. For now, it’s mostly just free entertainment, free food, free praise and free labour for the hotels.”

Lucifer looked up at him. The worry in his expression caught Alastor off-guard. “If it does get out of hand, tell me.”

“I’m sure it won’t,” Alastor assured him.

“But if it does,” Lucifer said seriously. “Dad’s still around. I don’t think he would be too happy if he ended up having to share the majority of the humans’ devotion with you,” he muttered. Another flash of a grinning lamb made Alastor swallow. He hadn’t thought about it like that. It wasn’t Heaven, itself, humans tended to worship. That was just the promise they got. In reality, it was God. And if Alastor’s cult ended up getting too big? As in big enough to be one of the main religions on Earth? Well, Alastor had a feeling his existence would be cut short. “He wasn’t too happy when people started worshipping me, at least.”

“I thought he said he wanted you to be in charge of Hell? Why wouldn’t you gain worshippers?” Alastor asked as they walked up the stairs to the fourth floor in their wing.

“Satan gained worshippers for me,” Lucifer corrected him. “He’s the one who went to Earth the most. Satanists, right? Some might worship me more than him, or mistake him for me. Either way, dad wasn’t too happy about it, anyway. He wants the humans to follow him.” He grimaced. “There’s a reason people aren’t worshipping Raphael or Emily, or even Sera when she was still around. They could give them some love, but no one were put above dad. Not until Satan started gaining followers.”

“You really think he would care if I got my own religion?” Alastor asked.

Lucifer shrugged. “From what I know, yeah. I don’t think he’d destroy you for it, but you could get punished. He’s still the Creator. The one in charge of everything.” He sighed. “I just don’t want you to have to face his wrath, if you know what I mean?”

Alastor felt his heart beat a little faster. “I think so,” he muttered. “I’ll make sure to stop it before it comes to that.”

“And if you can’t, I won’t blame you for asking for some assistance.” Lucifer noticed Alastor’s disdain at the mention of asking for help. “Hey,” he said, forcing Alastor to stop walking. “I really mean it. I know you hate admitting that you made a mistake, but in this case, it’s better if you just tell me, okay?” Alastor thought about the priestess and the power he’d given her.

“I’ll tell you if that happens,” he promised, because he knew he would. He knew Lucifer wouldn’t mock him for it, either, even if he probably wanted to. His husband could take things seriously when he wanted to, and if Alastor ever actually admitted that he made a mistake to him, he was likely to drop all he had and come running to help him out with it. “For now, though, it seems fine.”

Lucifer grinned and hugged his arm. “Then I’m happy you’ve found yourself a new hobby,” he said and kissed his shoulder.

The two of them spent the rest of the evening discussing options for the angel situation. Alastor found himself forgetting about the cult for a while, focusing instead on trying to help Lucifer find some sort of solution that would work well for everyone. They did come up with a few options that could technically work, but they weren’t completely sure about them, either, which meant they wrote them down and kept trying.

Alastor actually forgot about the cult for the next week. He had more than enough to do, finding himself at the hotel helping his two sacrifices with their training, as well as helping Charlie with a new surge of redemption-seekers. Greg had been in a great mood and seemed more than willing to learn. Josephine wasn’t as much of a people-person, which ended up with her getting a less people-involved type of job. She seemed happy enough to work in the archives, though, and while Vaggie was technically the person in charge of that, Josephine quickly got the hang of it, which gave Vaggie quite a lot of spare time on her hands to help out with other things.

It wasn’t until Alastor was about to go to bed the day before the next meeting with the angels that the prodding and poking came back. He’d literally just gotten his coat off when he felt it. He could hear Lucifer curse from the bathroom, clearly feeling it, too.

“I’ll go, dear,” Alastor said, picking his coat back up from where he’d placed it on the bed.

“Are you going to stay gone for long?” Lucifer asked, poking his head out from the bathroom.

“Maybe.” Alastor wasn’t sure if this was just the priestess wanting to show him the finished church or if it was the entire ritual, too. “No need to stay up,” he said as he put his coat back on and buttoned it up.

“If you say so,” Lucifer drawled, giving him a small smile before he went back into the bathroom.

Alastor huffed to himself as he accepted the summon, feeling himself get dragged away from Hell. He was looking forward to seeing the church finished, but the lack of time it had taken to finish it up made him wonder if maybe he should expect something else.

“Oh, Lord Satan!” someone said as he appeared inside a summoning circle in a room he had never been in before. It was definitely a basement—or a room in a basement, given the cramped space. The number of candles had to be a serious fire hazard. Fake, human skulls littered the ground, as well as a bunch of chicken bones (clearly from this guy’s lunch).

“Ooh, dear,” Alastor mumbled as he saw the sorry state of the man on the ground. He’d clearly been crying, given his puffy eyes and red face.

“You’re my last hope,” the man said, voice trembling against a wave of emotion. “My girlfriend left me for someone else, and I want her back,” he snivelled, making Alastor grimace. “Please, I’ll give you my soul if you help me—”

“No,” Alastor cut him off.

“What?” the man croaked and looked up at him.

“I’m not in the love business,” Alastor said dryly, placing his hands behind his back. He skipped bed for this? Awful decision, really. He should’ve just ignored it. “She didn’t choose you, so leave her alone. Simple as that.”

“What?” the man repeated, looking more confused for every second.

“I don’t have time for this,” Alastor grumbled. “Don’t summon me again for something as idiotic as a breakup,” he told him, before he let the summoning circle below his feet bring him back to Hell, and back into his bedroom. Lucifer glanced at him from the bed, clearly having decided to sit up and read for a bit.

“That was quick?”

“That wasn’t my cult,” Alastor scoffed as he once again got his coat off. “Some sorry bastard who wanted his girlfriend back after she left him for someone else. Not my problem, so I left,” he said as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“You never know what you get,” Lucifer huffed as he opened his book. “The cult has just been summoning you more often than a lot of other people, I guess. This is why I stopped answering those damned things,” he muttered.

“Yes, the sob-stories,” Alastor said gruffly as he finished changing into his pyjamas and walked over to the bed. “You mentioned.”

“Was he that pathetic?” Lucifer asked amusedly as Alastor climbed in under the covers beside him.

“A snivelling, little slug,” Alastor growled and shuffled closer to Lucifer, who reached down and combed his fingers through Alastor’s hair, scratching that particular spot at the base of his ear that made him relax. “I do hope he doesn’t try again.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill him,” Lucifer muttered as he continued to scratch. Alastor leaned into his touch.

“I didn’t want him to end up in Hell,” Alastor scoffed, making Lucifer chuckle quietly. “Not yet, at least.”

“Right,” Lucifer huffed.

Alastor glanced up at him. “What are you reading?”

Lucifer’s hand stilled against his scalp, before he turned the book around to check the cover. “Some crime thing, I think? A new one,” he muttered. “From a couple of years ago.” His eyes fell to Alastor’s before he smiled gently. “Want me to read for you?”

Alastor’s eyes widened a bit, before snuggled a little closer. “If you please,” he murmured and closed his eyes, feeling Lucifer continue to stroke his hair absentmindedly as his voice filled the air around him. It felt soothing, and soon enough he felt himself start to drift off. Still, his mind kept bringing up the thought of when the new sacrifice would happen. Or just when the church would be done. His curiosity began to annoy him, and while he would have to wait patiently, he still wondered what it would look like when it was all done. He almost contemplated getting Lucifer to open a portal so he could go check it out before he was summoned. He discarded the idea pretty quickly, though. He knew it would be worth the wait.

And worth it, it was.

After another week of just walking around waiting for the priestess to summon him again (and another couple of duds), he finally ended up getting summoned back to the church right after having one of his radio shows. He sighed in relief at the sight of the familiar nave when he got there. It looked a lot more sinister than it had last time.

The priestess stood in front of him, brimming with barely contained excitement.

“My liege!” she greeted, bowing for him. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ve been looking forward to this,” he said as he stepped out of the summoning circle. He glanced around at all the blood red sigils and runes painted directly on the dark walls. The room was lit up by tall candlesticks looking like antlers and chandeliers hanging high above the floor. The wooden pillars had been switched out and decorated with deer ribcages and deer skulls, which definitely was a little overkill. “You’ve been busy,” he stated as he made his way down from the chancel.

Tapestries in dark reds and greens hung on the walls, embroidered with more deer skulls as well as the little microphone-looking shape they’d decorated his cloak with, and pentagrams. A red carpet covered the floor from the entrance doors to the chancel. It all looked in perfect condition and carefully decorated in comparison to the run-down abandoned look it had last time he was there.

“Is it to your liking, sire?” the priestess asked him. “We tried to capture your essence, sort of.”

“It looks fantastic,” he complimented, eyes landing on the pipe organ on the balcony overlooking the rest of the room. “Did you fix the organ, too?”

“Yes,” she said. “I even got someone to play it for the ceremony tonight.” She placed her hands on her hips as she looked around. “It’s going to be quite a few people here, so I decided to leave the pews for some other time.”

Alastor hummed. “How many people exactly?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” the priestess replied. “It’s not going to be filled up completely, of course, but there are more than what would’ve fit in the old place,” she told him. “Do you want a tour and see what we’ve done?”

“Absolutely,” Alastor said, feeling a slight sense of dread flare up in him. He really hoped this wouldn’t get out of hand. “Lead the way.”

The priestess took him around the entire church, showing him every little detail she’d added, like small symbols hidden away in everything from the pillars to the floorboards, and even the candlesticks. Bones and skulls were placed neatly in stacks. There were even a few paintings of him here and there. Someone had even painted a replica of that painting of God reaching and almost touching a human, which was incredibly strange. It also made that new fear of getting punished by the lamb bubble up in him.

They got out onto the balcony where the pipe organ was, which was when his eyes fell on the chancel itself. He hadn’t actually seen it when he got summoned, instead being too busy looking at everything else the priestess had done with the rest of the church to turn around.

He stepped over to the railing. A moment later, he was back in his shadow and flashed through the nave and over to the dais, where he reemerged and stared at what could only be described as a shrine. A stone altar clearly meant for the sacrifices stood behind the summoning circle he’d appeared from. It was surrounded by a circle of ritualistic symbols carved into the stone slab it was standing on. Another tapestry with the same deer skull and pentagrams hung on the side of it. Thick ropes lay neatly on top of the altar stone, already attached to rings at the narrower sides of the altar.

Behind it, there was a sculpture. It stretched all the way up to the ceiling. It looked like it was made of a bunch of sticks, twigs and thin, dead trees to create something that looked like himself. It even had his ears and bowtie. A huge deer skull with black antlers covered the sculpture’s face. A couple of skull piles and more of those deer-antler-looking candlesticks stood beside it, lighting it up from below. It made the branches look like his shadows stretching out from him.

He stepped around the altar to get a better look at it. His heart hammered in his chest as he took in all the small details. They’d even managed to make it look like he was wearing his coat. It looked incredible, and Alastor couldn’t quite believe that someone had actually made it for him.

It also made him realise he was digging himself deeper into this entire situation. It had barely been three weeks since he was summoned for the first time, and they’d already bought an entire church, converted a lot of new people, and made him a huge sculpture. It was getting out of hand, and he knew he should put a stop to it. He really should. Before it had time to become something he had no chance at dealing with alone.

Lucifer told him to tell him if he’d made a mistake, but his mind screamed at him to wait until he knew he wouldn’t be able to fix it on his own.

“Oh, I thought you noticed it when you got here,” the priestess said as she hurried up behind him. “What do you think?”

“It’s incredible,” Alastor admitted. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this entire project,” he told her, walking back over to the altar. He ran a hand over the rough stone.

“As I said, we wanted to make it into something you could be proud of,” the priestess said. She pointed to the carved stone slab the altar was standing on. “We made this little drainage system for the blood. It’ll fill up the symbols on the floor and create a blood circle showing you how much we worship you, before it drains out into a cavern below the church,” she continued. Alastor stared at her in something between dread and awe. These humans were absolutely mad, but their ideas were insane enough to work. “It’s not too much, is it?”

Yes, it was.

“No, it’s perfect,” Alastor said with a grin.

“Thank fuck,” the priestess breathed in relief. “I was a bit worried if I’d overdone it with the stone carvings.” As if that was the only thing that Alastor could think of that was too much.

“The stone carvings makes the entire room, my dear,” he said. It made her grin.

A knock on the door made her smile fall. She checked her watch and sucked in a sharp breath. “Shit, it must be the others,” she muttered. She turned to Alastor with an apologetic look in her eye. “If you want to stay around, feel free to hide in one of the other rooms or something until I call for you.” Alastor huffed and let his shadow envelop him, before he dropped down into it and moved over to the wall behind the statue. “Or do that,” the priestess mumbled under her breath before she glanced back over to where the doors opened to reveal a small group of early arrivals.

Alastor watched from the shadows as more and more people filtered into the room. The priestess hadn’t been lying when she said she’d gotten quite a few new people. All of them were wearing the same red cloak as the one she’d given to him, but without the golden antlers on the back. It didn’t take too long before the room was filled with hooded figures. Well, halfway filled, that is. Most of them gathered in front of the chancel, except for one of them who hurried up to the pipe organ. The priestess got her own hood up after glancing one more time at Alastor’s hiding spot, before she turned to address the room.

“Welcome, everyone!” she said, raising her arms out to her sides as she talked to them. “And thank you to everyone who’s been helping out with our renovations,” she added. “We’re gathered here today to worship our Lord through sacrifice, as well as use this ritual to try out our new place.”

She continued to talk to the rest of the worshippers, before she led them through a prayer in Latin, which Alastor had no idea what meant, but he could feel it. That worried him, slightly, but it also muddled his thoughts with the amount of appreciation he felt from them all. It made him forget the concerns he’d had about the cult getting out of hand, and instead almost hoping it would grow much bigger than it already was. A religion for him. A religion rivalling something that God, himself, had.

He kept listening to her words and feeling like this was exactly what he was supposed to be. The subject of praise and worship. One to be feared and respected and—

Alastor growled, trying to get rid of the thoughts that only kept coming the longer he listened to the people chanting in front of him. He couldn’t let it get to his head. This entire thing could cause some serious problems if he didn’t stop it in time. He should stop it right there. He should stop them. He shouldn’t let them continue to worship him like this. He was a sinner. He wasn’t a god. He was barely even a royal. He was far from the strongest being in existence.

“All bow down for the Radio Demon,” the priestess said.

The pipe organ blared through the church.

Alastor emerged from his shadows, his cloak draped over him. Dark tendrils flared out, turning the flames flickering in the chandeliers and candlesticks green. His bloodlust made his eyes go black. His radio dials ticked in his skull as he saw the group of people bow down on the floor in front of him. One of them was there to die. One of them was there to become his meal; a sacrifice just for him.

For every dark note the pipe organ played, Alastor’s mind felt like it got cut off and muddled more and more. He stared at his worshippers. Blood dripped down his chin.

The priestess told the sacrifice to get up. A man. He reeked of fear and confusion as he stood, taking in the Radio Demon standing there, observing him as static crackled in the air around them. It mixed with the music from the organ, making something that sounded unholy even to Alastor’s own ears.

He blinked, smile falling and eyes going back to normal. He scrunched his eyebrows as he tried to figure out what just happened as he took a few steps back so that the vict—sacrifice could move past him and lay down on the altar. Alastor moved behind the priestess as she stepped over to the man lying on the table. She started tying his arms and legs with the ropes tight enough so he couldn’t get away or fight back. Alastor heard her talking to him, telling him how grateful she was that he’d wanted to be a sacrifice for their Lord. It made him realise this wasn’t just someone who was part of the cult, but someone new. Someone who hadn’t wanted to join them, but had somehow agreed to be a sacrifice.

That explained the confusion, at least.

He took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of him, again. It made him salivate. He could hear his speeding heart. Alastor’s heart was racing, too. He walked over to the other side of the altar, tilting his head as he felt the antlers on his head start to grow. He grinned down at him.

“What’s your name, my good sir?” he asked, voice more scratchy and static-filled than usual.

The man stared at him with wide eyes as Alastor leaned closer. He didn’t seem to be able to answer, mouth opening and closing like a fish on land as his eyes continued to flicker and take in Alastor’s appearance.

“Stephen,” the priestess said.

“Stephen,” Alastor drawled, licking the blood from his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“What the fuck,” Stephen whimpered.

The priestess scoffed. “You said you wanted to be the sacrifice, Stephen. You signed a contract.”

“I didn’t think it was real!” Stephen hissed, struggling against the ropes. Alastor grinned wider. “Get the fuck away from me!”

Alastor cackled. It sounded more like the stuttering of a radio struggling against interfering signals. He moved a little away from the man on the altar, watching him like a predator about to pounce. The priestess got the ceremonial dagger out from her belt and held it up to the green light of the flickering flames, letting the golden metal glint. It looked black.

The priestess addressed the room, again. The Latin rolled off of her tongue as the rest of the assembly joined her prayer. When she was done, she placed the blade against the panicking man’s throat. The rest of the worshippers swayed and continued to chant. It got louder and louder, echoing through the church. It ringed in Alastor’s ears as he watched the knife. It was all he could see.

The dagger cut deep into the man’s throat. Blood burst from the wound before it started dripping down onto the stone slab on the floor. It got caught up in the grooves and went into the circle. Alastor’s heart pounded in his ears as he felt every single ritualistic symbol get filled. It made him grin, again, as he waited for the blood to drain from the sacrifice together with his life.

He almost wanted to eat the guy right then and there, but a small voice in the back of his head told him not to. So, instead, he let his shadows crawl up the sides of the altar. Hands reached out and grabbed the body, pulling it with them down into his void.

The worshippers sang.

Alastor felt the vibrations all the way deep down into his soul where they clawed away any worry or concern he’d had about this cult. He couldn’t wait for it to grow bigger.

“All hail the Radio Demon!” the priestess said.

Alastor grinned wider.

Chapter Text

Lucifer was worried.

Actually, that was an understatement. Lucifer was fucking freaking out and pretending he wasn’t. Something was incredibly wrong. And he wasn’t just saying that because his private fridge, and every other fridge in the palace was filled to the brim with human meat, or because the hotels suddenly was a lot closer to having all the staff they would need for a long time, but because it had happened within three weeks since Alastor came back from Earth with his third sacrifice.

His husband was gone most days of the week, and Lucifer was getting increasingly worried about the state of Alastor’s psyche. He kept brushing it off, saying that he was just getting more staff for the hotels, and that it had nothing to do with the cult in itself. Lucifer had even tried asking him how many people were in it after their initial talk about being careful about the numbers, but Alastor had seemed to get agitated by the mere question. He got defensive, continuing to tell him that he had it all under control and that he wouldn’t let it go too far.

Well, Lucifer was starting to think he’d gotten past the point of no return, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Still, he didn’t know if he should try and ask Alastor about it, like he’d tried a few times already, or if he should just go and ask one of the people he’d gotten sacrificed. Either that, or go to Earth, himself, the next time Alastor got summoned.

He found Alastor in the kitchen after another meeting his husband had avoided by getting summoned. Lucifer had technically just wanted to get some supper after the long day, but when he saw Alastor standing there with the cleaver in his hand, covered in blood, he found his appetite disappear as his worry once again settled in his stomach.

“Hey,” he said quietly, stepping into the kitchen. Alastor didn’t say anything as he brought the cleaver down. The only indication that he’d heard him was a twitch of his ear. “Another sacrifice, huh?”

“What do you want?” Alastor asked, lifting the cleaver again. Lucifer wanted to tell him straight up that he wanted to know what the fuck was going on with the cult, but the cleaver went back down and continued to chop.

“Well, I was thinking of going to New Orleans this weekend?” Lucifer suggested instead. The two of them had gone there quite often after their honeymoon, but mostly just for weekend trips. He wanted to stay there for longer, soon, but he needed the situation with the angels under control first. “It’s been a few weeks since we went there, last, I mean. Could be fun? Find some poor idiot to—”

“I’m busy,” Alastor said curtly, before his shoulders tensed up and his back straightened. His ears flickered slightly, before he glanced down at the cleaver in his hand.

“Oh,” Lucifer muttered, feeling the worry get so much worse than it had been. “Some other time, then.”

“Some other time, yes,” Alastor said thoughtfully, before he placed the cleaver down beside the body. He leaned against the kitchen island, ears flattening against his skull. “I—” he started, like he wanted to apologise or say something else, but cut himself off, sighed and picked the cleaver back up again.

The chopping continued. Lucifer realised the conversation was over.

He let his husband work on quartering the new human corpse and teleported to the hotel, instead. He met Husk and Greg in the lobby. The latter had just finished his training and would be going to the Twilight Hotel whenever they found someone else fitting to manage the hotel who wasn’t a newcomer to Hell.

“Your Majesty,” Husk greeted him dryly. Greg turned to look at Lucifer as he approached, clearly looking like he expected Alastor and not him if the way his excitement dimmed slightly was any indication. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, what gave it away?” Lucifer drawled as he slumped down on one of the bar stools. “The fact that I haven’t slept for five days, or the number of people my husband has gotten killed just to get them to work at the hotel?” He glanced at Greg, who looked a little shocked at that. “Sorry, Greg. You’re doing a great job.”

Husk huffed and handed Lucifer a glass of whiskey. “Seems it’s gotten to his head,” he said dryly.

Lucifer sighed and sipped to his drink. “It might’ve. I’ve tried to ask him about it, but he just ignores me or starts grumbling some nonsense about not trusting his judgement or ability to put a stop to this.” He leaned on the bar top. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

“Well, if I may, sir,” Greg muttered, making Lucifer glance at him. “I’ve talked to a few of the new guys,” he said. He cleared his throat. “He sounds completely different from when I first met him. I always thought he felt safe, but the new ones…” Greg trailed off and pulled his own ear down to fiddle with it nervously. “Well, they say they’re terrified of him. I’ve tried to tell them he’s not that bad when they get to know him a bit better, but they aren’t listening to me. It’s like he’s their worst nightmare.”

“Fuck,” Lucifer said and downed the rest of his drink, before he placed the glass back down on the bar and jumped off of the stool. “Where on Earth is it?” Lucifer asked Greg.

“Portland, Oregon,” Greg said.

“Yeah, I have no idea where that is,” Lucifer grumbled, pulling out his phone and trying to find a map of Earth, before he handed the phone to the sinner. “Could you just find it for me?”

“Uhm, sure?” Greg said hesitantly as he took the phone and started to scroll through the map. He zoomed in on an area, and Lucifer thanked him and got his phone back. “I don’t know where the new place is, though.”

“I’ll find it when I get there,” Lucifer said. He turned to Husk. “If he asks you where I am, lie,” he told him, before he let his appearance turn human, changed his more royal outfit into something more casual, and opened a portal to Earth. The two sinners watched him step through into the cool Portland night. Lucifer looked around quickly, checking if anyone were around. He couldn’t see anyone and let the portal close, before he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and started walking through the streets.  

He had no idea where to even begin to look. He knew the cult had a church somewhere, but he had no idea where the location was. He should probably have asked one of the newest arrivals about where the building was, at the very least. Alastor had just gotten back from there a couple of hours ago, and because of that, Lucifer had a feeling he should’ve waited for at least a day before he went looking. He could even follow Alastor through the summoning circle, but it would be a bit more difficult to hide like that. He just wanted to check that his husband hadn’t lost his mind and somehow ended up in some horrible situation he couldn’t get himself out of.

He hurried across the street and decided to find a place to stay for the night. The last few weeks had been quite difficult given Alastor barely staying in bed for an entire night before he got up and kept doing whatever it was that made him barely able to sleep. It made it almost impossible for Lucifer to get some shut-eye, too, given his damned nightmare only getting worse whenever Alastor wasn’t there beside him. It always ended up with him not being able to catch up to him, which only made it more frustrating, which again ended up with Lucifer not actually sleeping at all, hence the five days without it.

He found some run-down hotel in the middle of the city and hurried inside. The woman behind the reception desk glanced at him and gave him a friendly smile.

“Hello, sir,” she greeted him. “Do you have a reservation?”

“No, sorry,” he replied, leaning against the reception desk. “Do you have any free rooms? I can take anything.”

“I’ll check, just give me a moment,” she told him and turned her attention to the computer screen. Lucifer watched her quietly while he waited. “Looks like we only have a couple of double rooms left, sir,” she informed him.

“Just give me one of them, thank you,” Lucifer said, getting his wallet out of his pocket. He got his card out and waited for her to gesture to the terminal, before he placed the card on top of it. It beeped, and the receptionist handed him the key to his room. “Thanks,” Lucifer said.

“I hope you have a good night, sir,” she told him.

Lucifer smiled at her, before he walked over to the staircase and walked up until he got to the third floor. He walked down the hallway and searched for his room number, feeling like he really wanted to go back to Hell and sleep in his own bed instead of alone on Earth, of all places. He could just get back in the morning and keep looking. But no. He needed this. The worry kept nagging at him to keep trying to ask Alastor about what was going on, so staying away from Hell for a couple of days would be for the best. He didn’t like arguing with his husband, especially not about what he should and shouldn’t do. Like starting a cult.

Lucifer sighed to himself. He didn’t know what to do. He just didn’t want his dad to get involved, somehow. He highly doubted he would, given that this entire situation felt more like an accident than deliberate. His dad would know if it was anything else, and while he never wanted to talk to or see his dad again after the entire war situation, he couldn’t help but feel like a small conversation could be good.

He found his room and got inside and locked the door behind him. He turned on the lights and moved over to the king-sized bed. He sat down at the end of it, before he flopped backwards and buried his face in his hands, before he combed his fingers through his hair as he rode out the wave of frustration that washed over him. He wanted to scream. He almost wanted to cry, too, actually, but that felt a bit much. He would much rather just get this entire shit over and done with so the two of them could go back to focusing on Hell.

He also just missed having his husband beside him. He’d gotten so used to having him there that being without him felt strange and uncomfortable. He missed their late-night conversations and reading sessions, as well as just joking around during meetings. They were supposed to be partners, and now he found himself alone and increasingly more concerned about his partner’s well-being. Cults could be scary if they grew big enough. He’d seen it so many times before. Demons getting worshipped and letting the devotion and praise go to their heads. Cultist had a strange power over the demons they were worshipping. It was almost addictive if there was too much of it. He just hoped that hadn’t happened to Alastor.

Lucifer rested his arm on his chest and raised his left hand over his face to look at the ring on his finger. The piece of Alastor’s antler and the ruby placed neatly in the middle of it. He ran his thumb over the back of it.

“Hey dad?” Lucifer muttered quietly, feeling ashamed at even opening his mouth. “Please don’t be mad at him for this. I know you don’t like cults, but just let me try and fix it before you jump to conclusions and kill him.” He moved his hand so he could look up at the cracked ceiling. The ceiling didn’t answer him, just like he knew his dad wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mind if you just pushed me in the right direction, though,” he added. Still no answer, just like he’d thought. “Thanks, dad,” he grumbled, eyes landing back on the ring.

He lifted his other hand and started fiddling with it. If it got more out of hand and Alastor wasn’t able to listen to him, he would have to find other ways to stop him. If that was cutting off his powers, he would do it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though. It could even make the entire thing worse.

“I just wished you would talk to me about it,” he muttered to the ring. “You don’t have to deal with this alone, you know? I just need you to tell me what I can do to help you.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line, feeling like a proper idiot where he was talking to himself. The ring would be able to send Alastor a message even if he was on Earth and Alastor was in Hell, but he wasn’t sure if he should. He swallowed thickly and pressed his thumb to the ring, letting it send two short signals to Alastor. He paused, staring at it. He could either tell him he would be out for a few days, or he could just send something else.

He went for the first option, sending Alastor a quick message about him not going to be back for a few days because of something he’d talked to the angels about. It felt cryptic and strange (and much longer than it needed to be, which was another sign of lying, but he had a feeling Alastor wouldn’t pick up on it. He was too far gone, it seemed), but the reply he got wasn’t anything other than a short “ok”.

Lucifer bit his lip at that, feeling his teeth pierce through his skin. He let the tiny puncture wounds heal before they could bleed.

“I’ll try and help you out, love,” he said, kissing his ring and closing his eyes. “I’ll be there for you. Just let me figure out how.”

He let his halo spawn. The snake slithered down from his hair and onto the mattress beside him, before it turned back and climbed up his throat and onto his chest, curling up there. It was a poor substitute of having his husband there beside him, but it would have to do for the night. Not that he got much sleep, anyway. He kept thinking about how to find his husband in a pretty big city, as well as how to stop the fucking cult from continuing to dig their claws into him.

The night went by slowly, and soon enough he decided to stop trying to sleep and just get out into the streets to see if he could somehow track down either some of the cult members or the church itself. He could only hope it wouldn’t take as long as he thought it would. If what he’d seen of the number of summons and sacrifices that had happened during the last few weeks, the cult was likely going to have another ritual in a couple of days, or even the next day if it was getting bigger.

He let his halo back up into his hair where it vanished out of reality, before he grabbed the key he’d tossed on the small table in the room, and hurried back out of the hotel. The same woman he’d gotten the room from looked at him curiously as he walked through the lobby and out of the hotel. When he was out in the early morning, he immediately started looking for sketchy-looking people, before he realised that wouldn’t work. Cultists could look like everyday people. They could be everyday people.

He grimaced and came to a stop once he got to the river cutting through the city. He had no idea where to look. Asking people about a fucking cult felt like it wouldn’t work, either, unless he wanted to get arrested. Again.

He leaned against the railing, watching the water. A couple of seagulls eyed him, and he huffed and created some fish he tossed to them. They thanked him as a flock of them noticed him giving the other two food and joined in, screaming at him that they wanted some too. Seagulls were such loudmouths. He told them to shut up or he wouldn’t give them anything, which made them all settle down and float on the water. He threw them all some more fish, before a thought hit him.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a new cult, would you?” Lucifer asked them. A few of them squawked that they hadn’t, others said they didn’t know what a ‘cult’ was. “What about churches? You know, big buildings with crosses on them?” He made his fingers represent a cross, making a couple of the birds shake their heads. “Do you know of some strange people, then?”

The seagulls laughed as they told him all about the strange people they saw, and all the assholes who kept trying to hurt them. Lucifer’s heart twinged at that, so he threw them some extra fish. They did tell him more about some other people that had been popping up around a few places in town. People talking about death and sacrifices. One of the seagulls said it was only one person, but the others said there were more of them.

“Could you show me where those strange people usually go and talk to people?” he asked them, only for the seagulls to say they didn’t know for sure and to talk to the pigeons instead. He thanked them for the information before he thew some more pieces of fish to them and left the riverside, making his way back into the city where he tried to find some more feathered friends.

He found some almost immediately and spawned a small bag of sunflower seeds. He quickly tossed some to the two pigeons strutting around. The moment the sunflower seeds hit the ground, they ran over and started picking them up. A few sparrows joined the feast.

“Could you guys help a fellow bird out?” Lucifer asked the birds, who all looked up at him like they hadn’t expected him to speak to them. “I’m looking for strange people.”

The pigeons chuckled at that, but told him that they saw strange people every day, and that he would have to be more specific. The sparrows didn’t say anything, more interested in the food.

“People talking about death and sacrifices. A cult,” Lucifer clarified, extremely happy it was too early for the humans to go to work. “Or abandoned churches that looks new,” he added just in case they’d seen anything. The pigeons shrugged, but one of the sparrows stared at him, eyes intense. “Do you know anything?” he asked it, and it nodded.

Lucifer let it fly up and settle on his hand. It told him it would show him the way to one of the places he’d seen one of the cult members try and recruit more humans. Lucifer thanked it and gave the birds some more seeds before him and his new friend started moving through the streets of Portland.

The sparrow chatted animatedly to him about the death people and how they sometimes dropped a couple of tasty breadcrumbs while they waited for people they could approach. The conversations they usually had always sounded like complete insanity, and the fact that the people agreed to whatever they were offering made them worried for the people’s survival instincts. It was like they just went for it without a second thought. Lucifer had to agree that it sounded completely wild.

They ended up in an alley. The sparrow told him to wait there until it got a little bit busier and that the strange people would show up when the sun was in the middle of the sky. Lucifer thanked it for the help, and gave it some more seeds, before he let the bag vanish. The bird chirped happily, wishing him good luck before it flew off into the streets. Lucifer waved after it and leaned against the wall of the building beside him.

He was really feeling the lack of sleep, so he closed his eyes and felt himself start to nod off. He felt a rush of air moving past him but it wasn’t moving fast enough. A flash of red, terrified eyes jolted him back awake. That damned, fucking nightmare. It never left him alone when he was by himself. He couldn’t even take a mini nap without feeling like he should be flying faster than he’d ever flown before. He crossed his arms over his chest, basically hugging himself as he looked at the people moving past him. At least the humans had started to walk around a bit more.

The traffic picked up not too long after that, and soon the city was bustling with human activity. People rushed or strolled down the street past his little hideout. They all looked generally uninteresting except a few people here and there who reeked of sin. Still, the only sinner he’d like to see was his own.

The one he knew from before this damned, fucking cult bullshit.

He sighed deeply and checked his phone, seeing it was still too early for the strange people the birds had mentioned to show up. He felt restless, and so he pushed himself away from the wall and decided to take a small walk, if only to try and distract himself for a while. It would’ve been great if someone actually just approached him without him having to wait, so he could find the place and see for himself how bad it had gotten. Well, he would figure it out soon enough, anyway.

A few birds glanced down at him as he passed them. They were following him, he realised after a while, so he stopped and talked to them, if only to get the time to move a little faster. They’d heard about some strange, talking human who knew their language, which was slightly off from the truth. One of them joked about worshipping him, which he told them not to do, given the current situation he was in. He didn’t need a fucking bird cult, even if that would be really cute. Well, he didn’t exactly tell them not to do it. It was more like he told them that they didn’t have to do that, only for them to say they would do it, anyway, for some seeds, at least.

If he dropped them a few seeds, no one would know but him and the birds. He had no intentions of going back to Portland after getting this issue under control, either, so he couldn’t imagine this getting out of hand. Not like what had happened with Alastor’s cult.

When it got closer to noon, he told the birds goodbye and walked back towards the alley the sparrow had told him about. He couldn’t help but feel a little concerned about not spotting the strange death people. If he didn’t, he would have to keep looking. Those damned, negative thoughts started making themselves known, again, too, which was the last thing he wanted. He hadn’t been depressed in years, but he felt like if this shit ended up going straight to Hell (and past it down into the abyss), he didn’t know what would happen. Losing his husband like this felt like one of the most awful ways to lose him. Of course, he could be dead, but at the moment, with his mind most likely muddled and fuzzy with the cult’s devotion to him, Alastor might as well be gone. If Lucifer didn’t manage to get him back…

“Stop it,” Lucifer hissed to himself. “He’ll be fine. He’ll be just fine and you know it, you idiot.” He ran a hand through his hair. “No, I’m not an idiot, I’m just stupid—no, I’m doing my best. I’ll help him out and then we can forget about this stupid, fucking situation. Damned cultists,” he grumbled, pausing when he turned the corner and saw someone in front of the alley he’d been in earlier.

A young woman was talking to someone, giving him a pamphlet or maybe a small brochure, before she turned around and looked through a bunch of bags she had placed behind her. She picked up one of them and handed it to the guy, before she smiled pleasantly and waved at him as he continued down the street. Lucifer paused, slowing down as he realised this had to be one of the strange people the birds had mentioned.

He glanced around, seeing that there weren’t too many others around, so he strolled casually down the street towards the woman handing out bags and pamphlets to strangers. He tried to look inconspicuous as he got closer, pretending to be in his own little world until he got close enough. He made sure to make the “mistake” of making eye contact with her, before he quickly looked away, again.

“Sir!” she said a moment later. Lucifer glanced at her and came to a stop. “Sir, do you have a moment?”

Lucifer looked down at his non-existent watch. “Yeah, looks like it,” he said, before he put his hands in his pockets.

“Splendid!” the woman said, making Lucifer’s heart skip a beat. He’d found one of them, hadn’t he? She said it just like Alastor used to do. “Would you be interested in joining or sacrificing yourself in the name of our lord and saviour, the Radio Demon?”

Lucifer stared at her. She grinned back at him. Lucifer looked at the pamphlets in her hands and the bags behind her, before he looked back up at her.

“I’m sorry, what?” he said, making a glint of confusion flash in her eyes.

“That usually works,” she muttered under her breath, before she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“What?” Lucifer said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said. A car drove past.” He smiled apologetically as he shrugged. “I’m a bit hard of hearing, sometimes.” He wasn’t, but if she literally could just ask people to join her cult… That wasn’t good, actually. That wasn’t good at all. Was this the priestess Alastor had talked about? Had he somehow given her more powers than he’d intended to? “Could you tell me again?”

“Oh! Oh, sure! Sorry, my bad.” She grinned kindly and handed him a pamphlet. “We have this religion. It’s quite new.” Lucifer looked down at the deer on the front and opened it up, nodding along to her words. “We’re worshipping the Radio Demon. Hell’s true ruler.” For fuck’s sake, Lucifer thought, feeling like berating his husband for being an egotistical, little shit. He wouldn’t, though. He was one of the rulers of Hell, but he was still below Lucifer. If this entire thing was a mistake and Alastor just hadn’t dared telling him about it, then he wouldn’t even joke about it, knowing it was one of those things his husband would actually feel bad about. Lucifer didn’t want that. “We’re always looking to recruit new members, but if you want to, we’re also looking for sacrifices. So, if you’re down on your luck, having a bad time, or something like that, our lord will get you a great job the moment you cross over to the other side. It’s our promise to you as the sacrifice, at least. You’ll love it.”

“Well, I’m doing pretty well on the job department, but the religion sounds interesting,” he said.

“Fantastic!” the woman said and gave him a quick once-over, before she reached down and picked up a bag. She held it up to him. “We usually wear these over our clothes when we’re in church.”

Lucifer took the bag and peeked at the dark red fabric inside it. It was the same shade as Alastor’s, but the embroidery was black instead of gold. He tanked her and placed the pamphlet inside the bag.

“No, thank you, sir,” she said. “We’re always looking to get new members and new sacrifices. Every new person is very welcome to join us. We want as many as we can.”

“I see,” Lucifer said. “When’s the next meeting?”

“Tomorrow evening at nine,” she told him, before she gestured to the bag in his hands. “The location is in the pamphlet.”

“Thank you,” Lucifer said, once again glancing down at his ‘watch’. “I have to get going, but I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Absolutely!” she said. “It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Luke,” Lucifer said, holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you Luke,” she said as she took his hand. He almost choked on his own breath when he felt the amount of power she had. He could feel Alastor’s chain around her neck, as well. Oh, his husband had fucked up bad. “I’m Eva.”

“Charmed,” Lucifer said with a charming grin. He was actually panicking a bit, because all he wanted to do was sever the connection this woman had to his husband so she’d lose her powers. But, to respect his husband, he didn’t. Instead, he let go of her and gave her a small wave, before he continued on his way down the street until he was out of sight.

The moment he was around the corner of one of the nearby buildings, he crashed into the wall and stayed there for a moment, bringing his hand up to his forehead as he felt his heart race in his chest. He saw some people give him strange looks, and he decided having a mental breakdown in the middle of the street wasn’t the best idea, so he took a few calming breaths (that didn’t help), and pushed himself off from the wall. He wanted to go back to Hell, but once again he felt like he should just stay right where he was.

He went back to the hotel, deciding he’d rather stay there for the time being and figure out a game plan, or even just try out the cloak. Or, he could check out the fucking church. He doubted anyone would be there until the next day, and if someone showed up, he could always just teleport away before someone saw him.

With the decision made, he hurried back to the hotel to deposit the bag in his room. He greeted the new receptionist with a nod, before he made his way into the staircase and went up to his floor. When he got to his room, he closed and locked his door, before he upturned the bag and let its contents fall down onto the bed. The cloak flopped out, revealing the embroidery on the back of it, as well as the pamphlet.

Lucifer hesitated, before he grabbed the cloak and lifted it up, seeing it was about his height. He draped it over his shoulders and pulled the hood on. It looked fancy enough. If Alastor saw him, he’d probably instantly know who he was if he didn’t just hide his face a bit more. Well, unless his husband was too far gone to notice him at all. It could happen, Lucifer knew.

He sighed and pulled the hood off, looking at himself in the mirror. The exhaustion was visible in his eyes, and he couldn’t help but grimace. If it hadn’t been for the cult making Alastor completely unaware of anything but himself, he’d probably stab him for not sleeping enough. Lucifer could actually tell him that the concern went both ways, knowing none of them had slept well for a few weeks.

He got the cloak off and folded it up, ready for the next day. He picked up the pamphlet and flipped through the three pages, reading everything he could about the cult—well, the ‘religion’ of the Radio Demon. Cultus Cervi. The Cult of the Deer. It had some information about a renovated church with some before and after photos. They made a chill go down his spine as he saw the number of ritualistic symbols and sigils, as well as the huge sculpture standing behind an altar. He knew he had to see it for himself before the ceremony the next day, so he checked the location, found it on his phone and memorised the route, before he opened a window and turned into a small song bird.

He took to the sky, fighting against the wind as he made his way towards the outskirts of the city. It was pretty far, and gave him enough time to start overthinking it all. He could either be lucky and get Alastor to snap out of it with just giving him a hard slap, or he would have to do more than that. He didn’t want it to end up in a fight. There would be a lot of casualties if they did, most likely, especially if Alastor really was in a crazed state. He had a feeling it would end up in a repeat of the fight they had before the war, and with Alastor being way more powerful now than before, he could actually do some damage if he wanted to. Not just mental.

Lucifer spotted the top of the church between the treetops in the big forest outside of the city. He noticed the inverted cross on the spire and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. The fact that not a single person had questioned the huge, ominous church and managed to figure out that it was the reason for the disappearances of quite a few people these last few weeks was incredible.

His mind went back to the woman who’d given him the cloak and remembered the strength she had. If she died while still having those powers, she could potentially cause a lot of trouble in Hell, too. He just hoped she was the only one that had made that type of deal with Alastor, and that she wouldn’t be too pissed off when Lucifer came and cut her off from them.

Because he would. He absolutely would.

He dove down through the branches and weaved through the trees until he got to the dark structure hidden in a clearing. It was big, but not as huge as he’d thought it would be. It would fit nicely inside his throne room, actually. Still, it could house a lot of people, it seemed. He found a small hole he managed to squeeze through, getting into the belltower. From there, he flew down and into the church through an open door into the main room. A few windows let sunlight into the room, casting long shadows. He could barely make out the statue in the chancel.

Lucifer landed on the railing beside the pipe organ. He glanced around, trying to take in all the details. The altar and the statue were the most impressive items in the room, and also the most concerning. Other than that, it looked like a pretty standard, satanic worshipping place. Well, except for the deer bones and skulls, as well as the other deer-like décor.

He flew down into the nave when he spotted something he hadn’t expected. He landed on the floor beside a neat stack of bones. A couple of goat skulls were placed in there, as well, creating a disturbing, yet satisfying pattern in the pile.

Alastor must’ve told them to add them to the rest of it. The thought made his heart warm a little. His husband had thought of him, at least in the beginning. It made him want to help him even more. He wanted this Al back. He wanted his friend and partner who was strangely considerate and wanted him in his life. Not the cold and bloodthirsty Radio Demon. He didn’t mind Alastor’s demonic side, of course, but there had to be a balance to it. He knew his husband wasn’t too keen on being a mindless demon, either, which meant he had to be in some deep shit to let it go this far.

“Huh,” someone said, making Lucifer jump around and stare up at the same woman he’d seen earlier. She stared at him curiously. “How did you get in here, little guy?” she asked him kindly. Lucifer decided to fly away from her. He went straight over to the branches making up the sculpture and landed on one of the small trees. He watched her as she continued to look at him, before she huffed and walked up onto the dais and over to the altar. She placed a small bucket and a paintbrush down on the altar stone, before she rolled up her sleeves and got a book out the backpack she was wearing. She flipped through it before she stopped at a particular page and placed it down on the ground beside what had to be a summoning circle. Lucifer tilted his head as she picked up the bucket and took the lid off, grabbed the brush and crouched down on the floor. She dipped the brush in the dark liquid in the bucket, before she ran it over the symbols already there, clearly freshening up the summoning circle for the next day.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes when he saw her add another circle on the outside of the original one and added a few more symbols between the two circles. He stayed quiet until she finished and placed the lid back onto the bucket and let the paintbrush rest on top of it. She went over to a small pile of skulls and placed the bucket behind it, out of sight, Lucifer realised. She was planning something.

She gave the new summoning circle one more look, before she got her book and her backpack, and moved down from the chancel. She paused and looked up at Lucifer still sitting on the branch.

“I’m sure you’ll get out on your own,” she said to him, before she went back out of the old church.

Lucifer waited until he heard the sound of a car driving off, before he teleported down to the floor, letting himself turn back into his human form. He stepped over to the summoning circle and looked at it. He got out some hydrogen peroxide and put it in his pocket, before he stepped into the circle. He could feel the gateway between the realms and nothing else. It felt like a regular summoning circle, at least. When he tried to check for an invisible wall, he felt nothing but air.

“Weird,” he muttered, before he pursed his lips and looked around, trying to see if there was anything else he felt he should do. Well, other than getting rid of the bucket of blood behind the pile of skulls. He went over to it and snapped his fingers, making it blink out of existence. When that was done, he turned to look at the symbols in the stone slab under the altar. If he read them correctly, they all would affect any demon in its vicinity. He walked over the symbols, letting each one change just enough so they lost their power, before he stopped in front of the sculpture.

He looked up at it as he leaned against the altar. “Is there anything else you need me to do to help you out?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Anything at all?” Of course, he got no answer. It frustrated him, but at least he’d done something to whatever these cultists had created to keep Alastor feel worshipped to the point of getting addicted to it.

Without feeling like he changed the room too much to be noticeable for the rest of the cult members or for Alastor, he teleported back to his hotel room, grabbed his key and ended up taking another stroll through the city. It didn’t feel as fun as running around New Orleans with the police chasing him, or just walking around with Alastor beside him and exploring. He felt like he wouldn’t have minded going to other places in the world, as long as he had his husband with him for it. It felt so empty without it.

He ended up in a restaurant to eat dinner. It felt bland and boring, and he kept looking at the empty seat in front of him, like it would somehow summon Alastor and make him sit down and order some bloody steak, before raising his glass with a smirk and clink it against Lucifer’s own. It made Lucifer hurry to finish his meal and get out of the restaurant, before he headed back to the river.

He ended up sitting on a park bench in a park beside the river. He looked at the clouds rolling in, covering up the blue sky above. A chirp made him look down at a bunch of small birds, mostly sparrows and finches, but a few pigeons and a couple of crows and magpies were with them, too. Lucifer stared at them curiously as the magpies and crows jumped up on the bench beside him. One of them was carrying some shiny candy wrapper which it gave to him.

“Are these offerings?” he asked suspiciously as another one gave him a pretty rock. The little sparrow he talked to earlier that day landed on his shoulder, confirming that it had gathered its friends to show him how much they appreciated him. “Thanks,” he muttered, spawning a bag of sunflower seeds. “At least someone wants to hang out with me,” he grumbled, smiling sadly when the birds all settled around him. He didn’t know why, but he ended up telling them about his problem. How fucking sad could he be sitting there rambling on about his situation to a bunch of birds?

They listened to him, at least. There were no cold shoulders, no defensive yelling, no ignoring him. They just seemed genuinely interested and willing to hear him out. Some even came with a few slightly helpful ideas, which were pretty basic, like giving Alastor something shiny (the crows and magpies loved this idea, saying it was the best way to win someone’s heart), or just having an intervention, which was more or less what Lucifer planned to do. After the ritual the next day, of course, after he saw how bad it had gotten.

When he figured it was time to get back to the hotel, he gave the birds a rubber duck looking like himself, which they seemed very grateful for as a seagull grabbed it and brought it with it somewhere for safekeeping. Lucifer grinned at them and gave them some more food, before he got up from the bench and started heading back to where he was staying. He still ended up wandering around for most of the night until he felt his eyes start to go blurry from the lack of sleep, and finally got back to his hotel room where he collapsed down on the bed and curled up on top of the bedsheets. He hugged one of the pillows close to his chest. He grumbled into it, and while he didn’t think he would be able to sleep, he woke up with a yelp, sitting up abruptly. His breath came in harsh puffs, and he tried his best to calm himself down.

He'd seen Alastor land, that time. He hadn’t been fast enough to get to him before they hit Hell. He’d seen him get crushed against the ground.

Lucifer buried his face in his hands as he groaned, before he realised it had gone dark outside while he’d slept. He rubbed his eyes and got his phone out, before he saw that he was late to the ritual and rolled out of bed, grabbed his cloak and put it on. It would be starting in just a few minutes, so he got his hood up and teleported into the woods surrounding the church.

He lurked in the shadows as he watched a line of people walk down the path and into the church. There were more of them than Lucifer had anticipated. The church would be filled to the brim if all of them got inside.

After waiting a few more minutes, he saw the last person walk down the path. Lucifer emerged from the treeline and went after them, stepping up the few steps up to the doors, and slipped inside. He closed the door behind him. He could hear the other cultist mumble and murmur to each other from the antechamber, and he took a deep breath before he made his way inside the nave of the church.

The room was completely packed. Even when he stood plastered against the wall, he still felt like he was bumping into people. There were too many of them to count from where he stood. If he didn’t stop this cult, they would end up upgrading to an even bigger place, which was really bad. Either that, or he had a feeling it would be more than just one sacrifice per ritual.

He could feel the tension in the room as the woman he’d seen the day before step onto the dais. Lucifer could smell the anticipation and fear around him. It almost made him nauseous. The intensity of it made him shiver and lean against the wall behind him, just to feel a little more grounded. His own worry smouldered and sparked in his gut as the people in the room started to chant. The priestess lifted her arms up like she was soaking in it.

“Welcome brothers and sisters,” Eva greeted them. The room fell quiet. Lucifer swallowed thickly as she started her sermon. She told them about all she’d done for them all, and about all the new members she’d recruited, as well as about the two sacrifices they were going to sacrifice later that evening. Lucifer listened closely to all she had to say, before she led them through a prayer. He kept his mouth shut as he felt the words hit him, a little bit. It was connected to him, too, it seemed. However, Lucifer had been through something similar before and had no intentions of doing it again. So, he pushed down the feeling of being worshipped, while he waited impatiently for the main event.

Apparently, he didn’t have to wait too long. The priestess continued to talk for a little while, but after a short song, she turned her back to them all. The worshippers all dropped to their knees, following the priestess’ lead. Lucifer felt his heart stutter in his chest as he hurried to get down on his own knees. It felt ridiculous, knowing who he was technically bowing down to. He had a good reason for it, of course, but if felt wrong either way.

The pipe organ blared, making Lucifer jump slightly. He’d forgotten about that damned instrument. It only made his heart beat harder. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he watched and listened to the air around him. Fucking Hell, he thought at the sheer amount of energy he got from it. It wasn’t surprising that Alastor had let it go to his head if this was how all the damned rituals went. His husband was sensitive to auditory input. The cult used a lot of it.

He kept his eyes on the chancel where the summoning circle lit up red, before there was a burst of green and black flames, and another hooded figure stood in front of them. Alastor’s ears poked through the top of the hood, just like they had when he’d showed him the day he got that cloak. However, his face was covered in shadow. The only thing he could see was the wide grin and his glowing, red eyes. They looked wrong. They looked like they had a certain madness to them that he’d never seen before. The sound of the organ seemed to make the sclera darken for each note it played.

“My Lord!” the priestess said. “Thank you for coming.”

Lucifer couldn’t take his eyes away from his husband. Every inch of his body felt like it wanted to run up to him and slap some sense into him, but he managed to stop himself as Alastor stepped out of the summoning circle and approached the priestess. He chuckled darkly, excitedly as he helped her back to her feet. Lucifer clenched his jaw. The room continued to vibrate.

Lucifer heard someone mutter something to someone else in front of him. Something about not having believed it when they first got invited to join the cult. Lucifer wondered how many of these people were completely confused about being there. Probably quite a lot if they were there because of the priestess’ ability to convert people with only a word.

The organ played a few more notes before it fell quiet.

“Please rise,” Alastor told the room, and the worshippers stood. Lucifer got up with them, hoping to use his short height to hide behind the rest of them. He felt his breathing pick up speed as he glanced around, waiting for whatever would happen next.

“We have two sacrifices for you tonight,” the priestess told the Radio Demon. “We thought we could make it extra special, today, given how many new souls have joined our religion these last couple of days.”

“Lovely,” Alastor drawled. He sounded tired, Lucifer thought as he watched him.

“But first, another song for you, Your Majesty,” the priestess told him, and the room started to hum a tune, before some started singing.

It hit Lucifer harder than he thought it would, making him feel the tone sink deep into him, like it wanted to take over his mind and soul. He refused to let it, blocking out the sound by focusing all his attention on Alastor instead, seeing his grin widen.

“You spoil me,” his husband said, before the priestess and the rest of the room murmured another prayer and went down on their knees again. Lucifer could see the shadows start stretching across the room and the flames flickering on the candles turned green. He hoped the shadows wouldn’t reach him so Alastor felt him. “Let’s get this ceremony started, shall we?” Alastor said, making the priestess nod and call out a name.

One of the hooded figures in the middle of the room got up and made their way into the aisle where the humans had made enough room for a person to walk. She stepped up to the altar and bowed down for Alastor, before she got up and walked over to the altar, where she laid down. The priestess hurried around and got the ropes on the altar secured around the woman’s limbs, before she got out a dagger. Alastor followed her like her shadow. Lucifer could make out the blood dripping from his lips as she started muttering something. The room joined in, making the words reverberate through the church.

The sacrifice got her throat slit, and the blood started running down the side of the altar and into the symbols on the floor. Alastor’s grin widened, before his eyes narrowed. He blinked a couple of times, before his smile fell. He gritted his teeth, looking like he wasn’t getting as much devotion as he usually did. Lucifer had gotten rid of some of it by changing the engravings. He didn’t know if that was a good thing, anymore.

Alastor’s shadows crawled and clawed their way up the sides of the altar and grabbed onto the body of the first sacrifice, before they vanished, taking the corpse with them. Lucifer knew he would most likely see them again in his fridge or in the freezer the next day.

“What’s this?” Alastor asked, static buzzing and popping in the air around them. “What have you done?”

The priestess looked at him in confusion. “What have I—what?” She glanced at the rest of the assembly before she turned back to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Why don’t I feel it?” Alastor snarled, voice crackling, taking a step closer to the priestess, who took a step backwards. “I’m supposed to feel their blood leave their body, and I can’t.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the priestess tried, making Alastor’s grin widen dangerously as he took another step closer to her.

“Fix it,” he demanded.

“I—I don’t know what’s going on, sire, but I assure you, I haven’t changed anything,” she said.

“Liar,” Alastor snarled. His voice continued to spark. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“I only improved the summoning circle, Your Highness,” she said frantically. “Please! Maybe the sacrifice wasn’t good enough? We still have the other one,” she suggested. Alastor stared at her, radio dials ticking in his eyes.

Lucifer felt his body tingle. He knew the sensation well, and looked down to see Alastor’s shadow clinging to his own. Its expression was desperate as it held on, like it was begging for Lucifer to do something.

It took him a moment to notice that the room had gone deathly quiet. His ring buzzed two short buzzes. After a small pause, there was another three short ones, a quick pause followed by two separate short ones, before there was another longer pause. It ended with one long buzz, one short, two long ones, a quick pause, three long ones, another quick pause, and finished with two short buzzes and a long one.

I S-E-E Y-O-U

Lucifer got eye contact with Alastor’s shadow. It frowned and glanced back at its owner. Lucifer followed its gaze and swallowed as radio dial eyes met his.

Yeah, okay, he was screwed.

Alastor cackled. It sounded like his laughter got cut off with radio interference. Lucifer had never heard it sound like that before.

He blinked as he felt Alastor’s cool shadows swallow him up, and found himself with his husband’s hand around his neck and feet dangling when his eyes shot back open. Lucifer grabbed onto his arm, digging his claws into Alastor’s coat sleeve and into his skin. He gritted his teeth at the lack of air as he glared down at him.

“Oh my, who do we have here?” Alastor sang. Lucifer felt his eyes flare up at the mocking tone. It only made Alastor grin wider. “Lucifer Morningstar!” he exclaimed, making the room gasp. The priestess gaped. “What in the world are you doing here?” The amount of poorly hidden rage made Lucifer sneer at him.

“Put me down,” Lucifer choked out.

“If you insist,” Alastor said. Lucifer expected him to drop him. He did not expect him to bring him over to the altar and force him down on the fucking altar stone. Alastor kept his hand on his throat, keeping him pressed against the rough surface. “Eva,” he said, not looking away from Lucifer for a second, daring him to move. Lucifer was waiting for an opportunity. He didn’t want to hurt anyone in the room, least of all Alastor himself. “It seems we have a new sacrifice,” Alastor told the priestess. “Tie him up, will you?”

The priestess hesitated for a second, before she hurried over to them. Lucifer didn’t dare look away from his husband. He could feel Louisa against his skin, squirming like she was trying to make Alastor stop. He didn’t.

Lucifer felt the priestess grab his arm. He still had his claws buried in Alastor’s skin, and he refused to let go. The woman yelled for someone to help her, and more people rushed over to them and grabbed onto him. Lucifer didn’t move no matter how much the humans tried to force him. Alastor seemed to notice, and before he could react, Alastor’s free hand grabbed onto his left wrist. He twisted hard enough for Lucifer to feel his bones creak. The pain made him try and hold on tighter, only for Alastor to rip his hand away from his arm and bend it up above his head. The humans hurried to tie it down.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lucifer hissed. “You need to stop. It’s a fucking addiction, you moron.” Alastor’s hand tightened around his throat, making him wince. In hindsight, Lucifer should’ve probably informed him of that before Alastor got addicted to the devotion.

Alastor ripped his other hand loose from where it was digging into his arm, before he bent that one over his head, too, letting the humans tie him up. The moment the second arm was secured, Alastor let go of his throat. Lucifer saw him try and go for his legs. He kicked. Alastor grabbed his leg and forced it down.

“Fucking great,” Lucifer rasped as another limb got tied down. He kicked at one of the humans, instead, managing to hit them square in the face. The human died on impact, making the rest of them look down at the corpse with the mangled face before they immediately stepped out of Lucifer’s reach. Alastor saw their hesitation and rolled his eyes. He grabbed Lucier’s free leg and held it down while he tied it with the last rope. “You need to listen to me,” Lucifer continued, hoping to get through to Alastor before he was forced to do something that he didn’t want to do. “You know I can get out of these fucking ropes.”

“You’re not going to,” Alastor told him.

“Of course, I am,” Lucifer growled.

“You could stop me with a single word,” Alastor continued, stepping over to his left side. “You could’ve stopped me before we tied you down, and you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” Lucifer said.  

“Exactly, Your Majesty,” Alastor said mockingly. “Your own morals make you weak. Your obsession with letting people have free will, will be your downfall.”

“If you kill him, you’ll be the one, true ruler of Hell,” the priestess murmured from behind Alastor. “If you kill him, you’ll be the one on top.”

Alastor giggled and draped himself over Lucifer’s stomach. Lucifer watched him carefully as Alastor rested a hand against his cheek. A knife was placed in Alastor’s other hand. Lucifer glanced at it, seeing the golden blade. For a short moment, he almost thought it was an angelic blade, but at a second glance, he realised it was a regular dagger. A ceremonial one, with a deer antler for a handle. Had the cult really messed up Alastor’s mind enough to make him think he’d be able to kill him with that?

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him, scanning his husband’s face. “Are you fucking with me?” he whispered quietly. Alastor didn’t seem to have heard him. He slid the sharp blade against Lucifer’s cheek, letting it break open his skin. Lucifer didn’t let it heal, just in case his husband was confused enough to think the knife he was holding would be able to harm him. “Hey,” he tried again. “Al,” he murmured gently. Alastor’s eyebrows scrunched in a flash of momentary confusion. “Come on. You’re not seriously going to kill me, are you?”

“You’ll be the strongest,” the priestess continued behind him.

“If I sacrifice you, your soul will be mine,” Alastor said, more blood running down from his lips before it dripped down his chin. Lucifer frowned. “I’ll have the King of Hell as my slave.”

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” Lucifer said dryly, before he lowered his voice. “You already have my soul, remember?” he whispered. “You’re my husband. We rule Hell together.” The dagger stilled against his chin. “You know I don’t care if you got into some trouble you can’t get yourself out of. Just let me help you,” Lucifer murmured, eyes locked onto Alastor’s. “We’re partners. Partners help each other out, right?”

“Kill him, oh Lord. Kill him, now,” the priestess whispered. “He won’t be able to stop you.”

“I—” Alastor started, but cut himself off and closed his eyes. He opened them and blinked a couple of times, before his eyes found Lucifer’s. “I can’t think,” he breathed. “I can’t—”

“Sacrifice him,” the priestess said louder.

“Remember the first time I sang to you?” Lucifer asked him softly. “I remember seeing you smile. I think you tried to hide it a bit.”

“Stab him,” the priestess hissed.

“You said I had the voice of an angel,” Lucifer continued, leaning his head against the hand still resting against his cheek. “I sang to you before you stabbed me, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t want to stab you,” Alastor whispered, eyes unblinking.

“I know,” Lucifer said gently. “I keep having nightmares,” he admitted. “I can’t sleep,” he murmured. “I keep seeing you in the distance but I can’t reach you.”

“Finish him, My Liege,” the priestess demanded.

“She’s pretty annoying, isn’t she?” Lucifer asked.

“She worships me,” Alastor said.

“She’s power hungry,” Lucifer retorted. “You’re not. You don’t need it. You didn’t want it, yet you got it anyway.” He nuzzled into Alastor’s hand, placing a chaste kiss against his palm. It made Alastor’s eyes widen, before they flickered to the dagger in his hand, and to the wound on Lucifer’s cheek, before they once again caught Lucifer’s gaze. “Hi,” Lucifer said.

“Hi,” Alastor replied. His thumb ran slowly across Lucifer’s cheekbone.

“I missed you,” Lucifer whispered.

“I—”

“Fucking Christ!” the priestess yelled, grabbed the dagger out of Alastor’s hand before she pushed him towards the summoning circle on the ground. Alastor stumbled into it, and the priestess wasted no time. She slammed the knife into Lucifer’s stomach, before she dove to the floor and dipped her fingers into the blood left in the stone slab, and smeared it across the second, outer ring of the summoning circle. Alastor’s eyes widened. He breathed harshly as he turned to look at Lucifer, before he moved forwards, only to crash right into an invisible wall.

Lucifer stared at him.

Alastor stared back, bringing his hands up. He winced as they came in contact with the trap.

“Fuck,” he hissed before trying to hit the invisible barrier, only for his hand to get knocked back. “No,” he said. “No, no. That’s not…” he trailed off and launched himself into the wall. It didn’t budge. “Fuck.”

The priestess kneeled on the ground. She panted as she looked up at the trapped demon in front of her. She grinned and got up on her feet unsteadily. A deranged chuckle bubbled out of her throat.

“I fucking did it,” she giggled. Alastor’s eyes went from her to Lucifer and down to Lucifer’s stomach. Lucifer followed his gaze, eyes landing on the dagger still stuck in him. “I fucking did it!” she screamed. The assembly murmured among themselves as the priestess continued to laugh to herself. She turned her back to Alastor and moved over to the altar. She grabbed the handle of the dagger and pulled it out, not letting Lucifer have time to react before she drove it back down right into his heart.

“Ouch,” Lucifer said, before he saw the priestess’ confused glare. “I mean, ooh, no! Dang it. You got me.” He cleared his throat, before he let his head lull to the side, catching Alastor’s eye. “My love, I’m sorry. I see the darkness come for me. You must live on without me.” Alastor raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Please, oh darkness, let me see him for one last time before I follow—”

“Will you shut up and die, already?!” the priestess yelled and brought the dagger back out of Lucifer’s chest. It stung a little.

“Oh, sorry,” Lucifer muttered, before he cleared his throat, again. “I see the light fade!” he continued to ramble on. “It’s taking me from this realm and away from—”

The priestess shrieked and slit Lucifer’s throat. Honestly, he should’ve seen that one coming. He gaped, forcing himself to let the wound stay open and bleed (red, not gold), before his eyes locked onto Alastor’s. He grinned sweetly at him, giving him a small wink before he let his body relax and his eyes grow distant and dull.

The priestess huffed as she turned around to face the shocked crowd. They all seemed to hold their breath as she stumbled past where Alastor was still trapped.

“I killed the King of Hell!” she announced, holding the dagger up above her head. Blood dripped down the side of it. “Bow down to me! Worship me!”

Lucifer looked over to Alastor, who met his gaze. A smirk played on his lips as he tilted his head a little. The fact that his eyes were back to normal made Lucifer’s heart jump happily in his chest. He really had missed seeing his husband looking at him like he usually did. That adoration that went so deep that Lucifer felt like he was swimming in it. That, and the mischievous glint in his eyes told Lucifer that Alastor was definitely back to his own mind for the time being.

The cult members continued to murmur and shuffle.

The priestess stared at them.

“We’re not here for you,” some brave soul said.

Alastor grinned wider.

“Oh, really?” the priestess said. “I’m the one who got you here! I’m the High Priestess of this damned religion. I just killed the King of Hell, and you won’t follow me?” She turned around to look at Alastor, who kept his back to her. Lucifer let his eyes grow dull, again, just in case she looked over at him. He let one of his other eyes keep an eye on them all. “What if I make the Radio Demon follow me, instead? What if I kill him?”

Alastor fished something out of his inner coat pocket, looking almost bored at the threat of dying. Oh, sorry, ‘dying’.

Lucifer tapped his thumb gently against his ring.

Short, long, short, short, pause, triple long, pause, short, short, short, long, pause, short.

Alastor’s eyes flashed green as something fizzled. The dagger cut through the air. Alastor’s tentacles shot out from his back and grabbed the priestess’ arm. She sucked in a breath before she cried out when the tentacle snapped her wrist. The knife fell to the ground. More tentacles slithered out of the ground and up her legs, before they wrapped themselves around her body and neck. A harsh tug forced her down on her knees. Alastor put the empty vial back in his pocket and stepped slowly out of the summoning circle, making the rest of the humans gasp. The priestess looked up at him in horror.

Alastor ignored her and stepped right back over to Lucifer. He chuckled amusedly as he rested a hand against Lucifer’s wounded cheek, running his thumb along the thin line.

“That’s the worst death you’ve had ‘till now,” Alastor scoffed.

“I’m out of practice,” Lucifer told him dryly, letting the cuts and wounds heal. “Now get me out of these fucking ropes, or I swear to dad—”

“I fucked up,” Alastor interrupted him.

“Aw, yes. Thank you for telling me,” Lucifer cooed sweetly. “Now, the ropes—”

“I’m sorry,” Alastor continued, quietly.

“I forgive you,” Lucifer replied. “Now, can you untie—”

“I might’ve bit over more than I could chew,” Alastor muttered.

“Okay, fuck you,” Lucifer blurted out. “You’re such an ass,” he continued when his husband grinned smugly down at him. “Fucking— come here,” he hissed, getting the ropes off of his hands. He grabbed onto Alastor’s bowtie and his cheek, pulling him down into a kiss. Alastor snickered against his lips, making Lucifer huff. “Can’t believe you let me untie myself after you tied me up,” he muttered.

“I love you, too,” Alastor whispered in response to his earlier message, and Lucifer completely forgot his train of thought. “I am sorry, dear. I didn’t know how to tell you, and then…”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,” Alastor argued. “I should’ve just asked you for help when you first brought it up.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been nice, but I guess it taught you a lesson not to fuck with cults,” Lucifer told him sternly.

“You were all for it in the beginning,” Alastor pointed out.

“When I thought your cult wouldn’t grow into this shit,” Lucifer retorted, gesturing to the church full of people balking at the two of them, as well as the priestess still stuck in Alastor’s tentacles. Alastor looked like he’d completely forgotten about them. “I should’ve warned you about it, better, too.”

Alastor sighed as he stroked Lucifer’s cheek. “Will you help me out?”

Lucifer stared at him. “If you untie my fucking legs,” he said.

Alastor grimaced. “Sorry.”

He moved over to Lucifer’s legs and got the ropes loosened, before he got his legs free. The moment Lucifer could, he swung his legs over the edge of the altar and jumped down. Without missing a beat, he walked right over to Alastor and pulled him into a tight hug. He felt his husband’s arms around him as he buried his face in his chest.

“I’m sorry, love,” Alastor murmured.

“It’s okay,” Lucifer muttered. “Just felt like you didn’t trust me enough to ask me for help.” Alastor tightened his hold on him. Lucifer gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not blaming you, of course. I’ve been in similar shit before,” he told his husband and tried to pull away enough to look up at him, but Alastor kept him close. “Devotion can do some serious shit with your mind if you let it, and since you’ve never felt it before, it’s not weird that it ended up getting out of hand.”

“It got too big too fast,” Alastor admitted quietly. “It felt like it cut off everything else. All I could hear was their voices.”

“You’re stronger than a regular demon,” Lucifer said and glanced up at him. “That comes with having to be extra careful around humans when giving them power.”

“Do you think your dad will punish me for it?” Alastor asked, barely loud enough for Lucifer to hear it.

Lucifer sighed. “No,” he said. “I don’t think he punishes accidents.”

Alastor breathed out a sigh of relief, before he placed a gentle kiss to the top of Lucifer’s head and let him go. Lucifer grinned softly up at him, grabbed his hands and brought them up to his lips, pecking his knuckles. Alastor’s expression softened at the affection. Lucifer chortled quietly and let go of his hands, before he turned to look at the rest of the humans.

He placed his hands on his hips as he saw the priestess struggle against the tentacles’ hold on her. Alastor stepped up beside him, moving close enough to make their arms brush against each other.

“What should we do with her?” Lucifer asked, stepping closer to her.

“I say we kill her,” Alastor replied, making the priestess’ eyes widen and shift between the two of them.

“Just get rid of her deal, first,” Lucifer muttered, making Alastor sigh. “Come on,” Lucifer prompted him. “Unless you want me to do it for you.”

“Fine,” Alastor grumbled and stepped over to her. He pressed a finger against her forehead. There was a flash of green, and the woman gasped. “There. No more deal. No more powers.”

“Great,” Lucifer said. “Can I do it?”

Alastor turned to look at him. “What?”

“Can I kill her?” Lucifer clarified, walking around the two of them. “She’s kept you away from me for like, three weeks, she tried to kill you, fuck, she even tried to kill me.” Lucifer came to a stop beside him. “I think she needs to understand that messing with the devil isn’t a good idea,” he said, voice distorting more and more for every word he spoke. He let his eyes flash red. A hush went through the crowd. He grinned. The display of hidden power was gone in a blink. “Any last words?” he asked pleasantly.

Her eyes went to Alastor. “How did you get out?”

“Hydrogen peroxide,” Alastor said bluntly.

“Hydrogen—what?” the priestess hissed.

“Hydrogen peroxide,” Alastor repeated and got the empty vial out of his pocket, again. “I always keep it with me in case something like this happens.” He twirled the glass between his fingers. “If the concentration is high enough, it’s an incredibly helpful tool to get out of traps drawn in blood.”

“What the fuck,” the priestess cried.

Lucifer smiled. “I hope you become a maggot,” he said and snapped his fingers.

She burst into flames.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sound of her screams, before he looked at Lucifer. Lucifer glanced at his husband and grinned at him, shrugging cheekily. The rest of the humans in the room fell to their knees.

“Nu-nu-nu-no,” Lucifer snapped at them. He stepped around the burning woman. “Get up.” The humans didn’t. “None of that shit.”

“Satan, sir,” the same guy who’d told the priestess that he wouldn’t follow her said from his place on the floor. “We are still dedicated to follow—”

“I’m not Satan,” Lucifer cut him off.

“What?” the man said, looking up.

“We’re different people,” Lucifer clarified. “I’m the devil, not him. He’s just one of the sins.”

“What?” the man repeated. “But what about…?” He glanced at Alastor.

Lucifer followed his gaze. “What the fuck did you tell them?”

Alastor didn’t meet his eyes. “A lot.”

Lucifer sighed. “Oh, Al,” he muttered, before he turned back to the assembly. “I’m the devil, the Radio Demon, here, is my husband, and Satan was my substitute ruler for a long time. That’s it. I’m not interested in your worship, so go back to being satanists.”

“Lucifer?” Alastor asked, sent the still-burning woman a glare (Lucifer wouldn’t let her die, yet), before he stepped over to him. “What if we keep the cult?”

“Al.”

“I’m serious, dear,” Alastor insisted, placing a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “We still need people at the hotels.”

“We don’t need sacrifices, Al,” Lucifer argued. “And I’d rather not have you end up in this situation again.”

“I’m not talking about recruiting more like how Eva did,” Alastor huffed. “Or sacrificing a bunch of people each week.” He let his gaze wander over the humans. “No more deals. Just a promise that we’ll give them work if they want to work for us. A sacrifice when—and only when we need someone trustworthy.”

Lucifer stared at him for a moment. He hated to admit that the hotels needed these people. While there were some trustworthy people in Hell, they weren’t close to the same level as the cultists (at least the ones who hadn’t just gone for the sacrifice instead of joining the cult, who had been a bit more difficult to work with after they died for obvious reasons). They had quite a few people already, which meant they didn’t need anyone else for the time being. They could wait until the bunch they had was done with their training before they got new ones. It would give the hotels the bare minimum number of people to start with, and then they could add more when they needed- and had people to train them.

“You’re suggesting making them our cult?” Lucifer asked him.

“Indeed,” Alastor replied.

“No more bloody sacrifices?”

Alastor hesitated before he sighed. “No. Instant death. I can always go hunting.”

Lucifer huffed and glanced at the cultists still on the ground. “What do you guys think about this?”

“I mean,” the guy shrugged. “I’ve already been devoted to the both of you, albeit unknowingly mistaking someone else for you, so I’m not going to stop, now,” he said. Lucifer decided to ignore the irony of that statement. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll stay in this religion for the foreseeable future.”

“We’ll only be sacrificing those who wanted to join,” Alastor told them.

“Sounds good,” the man agreed with a grin. The other humans nodded in agreement.

Alastor met Lucifer’s eyes. “What do you think?”

Lucifer grinned. 

(Got a bit tired of trying to go for the show style, so I hope you enjoy something closer to my actual drawing style XD)

Chapter Text

Lucifer pushed around the food on his plate. His chin rested in his hand, and he had to fight against the constant urge to yawn as he continued to listen to Andrealphus and Stella chatter on about whatever the fuck they were talking about. He couldn’t care less about their gossiping, and for a moment he really wondered how he’d even ended up at their end of the table. Well, he knew why. The two Goetia weren’t subtle in their ass-licking when it came to him. They’d clearly decided they wanted to put him with the two of them.

What pissed him off more was the fact that they’d decided to put Alastor at the other end of the insanely long table. It stretched all the way to the other side of the dining hall, which made it impossible for him to have a conversation with his husband. Or, you know, a regular conversation with his husband.

Lucifer’s ring buzzed gently against his skin. The lucky bastard got seated together with Stolas and Vassago, who were probably enjoying their time a lot more than Lucifer was. Even if he knew it was because of some discrimination against his husband given Alastor being a sinner and all, he also knew Alastor would much rather stay with someone they considered their friends instead of the assholes who kept talking shit about everyone and everything who Lucifer was stuck with.

He sighed, continuing to poke at his food. He didn’t feel particularly hungry, and the meal in itself wasn’t something to write home about, so to speak. He could’ve eaten just to get the time to move faster, of course, but instead, he focused on his husband’s words. It was mostly just a few words here and there, commenting on the conversation he was having, telling him about a thought he had for the hotels, or just other, random, little things.

Alastor also hated the food, apparently. Lucifer huffed at the complaints. He didn’t think it was that bad, but from his husband’s perspective, it was apparently awful. He could understand why Alastor didn’t enjoy it, of course. He was the one of them with a much better grasp on anything food-related (even if he did eat people raw if he got the chance). If Alastor said something was awful, then it was.

Still, from where Lucifer sat, he could see Alastor keep eating whatever was on his plate. He guessed eternal hunger did that to a person.

After a particularly annoying round of laughter from the people around him, Lucifer decided he’d had enough. He got up, making everyone shut up and stare at him. Lucifer’s eyes were locked onto the person in front of him on the other end of the table, who barely gave him a glance. In a less-than-ideal way to rebel against the seating arrangements, Lucifer decided to make a scene. In any other formal dinner, he would walk around the table to get over to his husband, but he didn’t give a shit about this one. No one would dare complain, either, which made it even more funny to him to jump up onto the table before making his way down the middle of it. He made sure to avoid the candles and the other demons’ plates while excusing himself and greeting everyone he passed.

He came to a stop in front of his husband, ignoring the surprised looks from Stolas and Vassago. Alastor looked completely unfazed. He just cut off a piece of his steak, stabbed it with his fork and held it up for Lucifer.

“Taste this,” he said amusedly. Lucifer bent down and accepted the offered food. “It’s absolutely horrid.”

Lucifer stared at him, before he looked down at the plate where most of his husband’s food was gone, before he glanced back at Alastor. It really wasn’t strange that he didn’t enjoy it. It wasn’t just worse than Lucifer’s.

“This is poisoned,” he said, loud enough for the entire room to hear him.

Everyone froze.

Alastor stared at him.

“What.”

Lucifer felt rage bubble up in him, but he remained calm. The taste of it was familiar to him given other people thinking poison would be able to kill him, and so, after just getting mild stomach pains from that particular poison, before, he was far from worried about his husband’s well-being.

“You’ll be fine,” Lucifer told Alastor reassuringly, who was slowly putting his cutlery down on the plate and swallowing thickly. He did look like he was moments away from freaking the fuck out, though. “You’ll probably barely even feel it,” he added, making Alastor narrow his eyes doubtfully at him. “It’s not going to kill you, at least,” he finished.

“Well, that’s great,” Alastor said sarcastically.

“I’ve been poisoned before with the same shit,” Lucifer tried. “Got slightly nauseous, but that’s it.”

Stolas cleared his throat, making Lucifer turn to him. “Sorry, Your Majesty,” he said quietly. “But your power level is quite far above the rest of us. A slight nausea for you might be more of a ‘close to dying’ sort of pain for the rest of us.” Lucifer grimaced.

“Fantastic,” Alastor grumbled.

“He has quite a bit of my power, though,” Lucifer pointed out, wiggling his ring finger.

Stolas glanced at Alastor. “Well, depending on the actual poison used, some might be more effective against sinners.” He looked back at Lucifer. “Your powers might reduce the symptoms a little bit, but it also might not.”

Lucifer pursed his lips. He had no idea how good this poison was, or who it was meant for. He just knew it never had that big of an effect on himself. Which also meant that, while he still didn’t believe his husband would have too much trouble getting through it, a certain amount of worry sparked to life in him, which again caused his anger at someone having the audacity to try and poison Alastor while he was in the room to spike.

“What do I do?” Alastor asked, looking a bit more frantic than he had before. “I don’t know if I can throw it back up again,” he said, burying his claws into the wooden table.

Vassago leaned his elbows on the table. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, su Alteza,” he said with a mix of cheekiness and concern. “It’ll come back up if it needs to.”

“Well, that leaves the question,” Lucifer started as he straightened his back and turned to the rest of them. “Who the fuck poisoned my fucking husband?!” he roared, making everyone flinch and look at each other. Lucifer was seething as he turned to one of the servers. “You,” he said, making the imp jump. “Bring me everyone. Every staff member you can fucking find. That’s an order,” he barked, seeing the imp nod and run off to get the rest of them. Lucifer turned back to the rest of the Goetia. “Tell me,” he said with a pleasant grin. “Which one of you idiots is behind this?”

No one said a word.

“Answer me,” he ordered, letting his voice boom through the room. They were trembling. Well, most of them. Not the ones he knew hadn’t done it, like those they considered their friends, of course. Alastor was staring at him with an unreadable expression. He did look a little shaky, but Lucifer had a tiny thought that it was because of the poison and not so much because of Lucifer actually using his powers to get to the bottom of who’d done it. “Well, then,” Lucifer said when no one raised their hand or spoke up. He folded his arms behind his back and waited in silence until the imp came back with quite a few staff members.

He stepped over to the edge of the table and dropped down. He landed gracefully and stalked over to where the staff had lined up in three neat lines. The imp who’d gotten them stood a little to the side and bowed when he approached.

“Is this everyone?” Lucifer asked.

“Everyone I could find, Your Majesty,” the imp told him. “I went through the entire palace. I couldn’t find anyone else.”

Lucifer turned to the staff. “Is anyone missing someone?” he asked them. They looked around at each other, before they shook their heads. “Just to make it clear,” Lucifer continued as he moved slowly in front of the line. “If anyone is hiding something from me, or think they’re going to protect anyone else by lying to me, I’ll find out.” He stopped when he reached the middle. “Who did it?”

Once again, no one said a word or moved.

“If you come forward, I won’t kill you,” he said. “Which one of you poisoned my husband?” None of the kitchen staff said anything. The servers looked around. Some looked more curious than worried.

He felt someone move up behind him.

“I can’t believe you would accuse my staff of poisoning anyone,” Andrealphus said. “Of course, none of them did it, My King. Why would—”

“Shut up,” Lucifer said with a glare, daring him to keep talking. “If you’re not behind it, you’re the one who should be standing here demanding an answer from the people who prepared my husband’s food.” The prince did the wise thing and kept his mouth shut. Lucifer grinned and lowered his voice. “It’s very telling,” he mumbled up at him, making Andrealphus tense up and furrow his brow with a frown.

“Who did it?” Andrealphus demanded from his staff, who all startled at hearing his voice. Lucifer grinned smugly. “You heard our king. If you come forward, your punishment won’t be death.”

One of the kitchen staff raised their hand shakily, much to both Lucifer and Andrealphus’ surprise. Lucifer hadn’t actually thought that anyone would come forward without being ordered to.

“I didn’t do it, Your Highnesses,” the older woman assured them, before she cleared her throat. “But I was the one who prepared the plates. I thought I saw someone in the kitchen earlier. Someone not from the staff,” she said, making Lucifer clench his jaw in irritation. She swallowed thickly.

“Can you describe the person?” Andrealphus asked.

“No, I’m sorry, sire,” she replied, grabbing at her apron. “I couldn’t see them clearly. It was like they weren’t really there. When I got closer, they vanished. I thought it was just my mind playing a trick on me, but now I’m not so sure…” she trailed off and lowered her gaze ashamedly.

“Are you seriously trying to blame a ghost?” Andrealphus blurted out.

“Wait,” Lucifer said and held up a hand before the woman could keep explaining herself. He glanced over at Alastor, who looked like he wanted to get the Hell out of the room, either because of the fact that Lucifer was making a scene about it, or because the poison had started to affect him. Lucifer turned back to the staff member. “What did it feel like?”

“I’m sorry, what?” the woman asked.

“Lucifer,” Alastor said, making Lucifer turn around to look at him, again. He was staring at him, an intense look in his eye. “I think it’s time for us to leave.”

“Give me one more minute,” Lucifer said and looked at the woman. “Humour me,” he told her.

“I don’t—I mean, I’m not sure,” she stuttered, before a hesitant tension settled on her shoulders. “It felt strange. I can’t really describe it. Like some animalistic spirit of some sort.”

“Like a lamb?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Fuck,” Lucifer cursed. “Well, thanks,” he said. “Sorry for the disturbance. You’re free to go, everyone.” He ignored Andrealphus’ confused stare and moved over to where Alastor had gotten out of his seat. “Sorry for this.”

“If it’s punishment for what I did last month, then I can’t really complain, can I?” Alastor muttered, straightening his white jacket. Lucifer noticed the slight tremor in his hands.

The cult was still going strong. Lucifer knew that, of course, since he’d become their second subject of worship. Cultus Cervi et Anatis, which was the new name for it. It had stopped growing, at least. Well, a couple of new members here and there, but nothing like what had happened after Alastor accidentally gave a human more power than any human should have, and the cult grew out of hand before he could get used to the devotion, making it block out everything else and making him hear nothing but the chants and voices of those who worshipped him. Now, however, the cultists only summoned them whenever Lucifer said they needed a new person they could trust, and they made sure not to make too much of a ritual out of it, just so they wouldn’t end doing the same mistake twice. They also ended up with more than one cult leader, making sure to spread the power a bit.

Still, Lucifer had asked his dad to not punish his husband for it, since it had been an accident. The problem was that while he’d promised to stop the cult, he’d ended up letting it stay active, which probably hadn’t gone down too well with his old man.

“I’d think he would try and poison me, too, then,” Lucifer said and gave Stolas and Vassago a small smile. “We’ll see you some other time,” he told them.

“Do tell us how it goes,” Stolas said kindly, before he paused with a considering hum. “I might have something that could help, actually.”

“That would be appreciated,” Alastor muttered with a grimace. “I’m fine, for now, but just in case.”

“I’ll send it over to you the moment I get back home,” Stolas said. “I just have to find it.”

“Sure,” Lucifer said. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Stolas waved him off. “Anything for a friend.” Lucifer grinned at that. “At least you get to leave early from this dreadful dinner.”

“We’ll have to have a dinner with just the four of us,” Lucifer promised and opened a portal back to his palace and let Alastor step through it. “Without the poison,” he added.

“Sounds good,” Stolas said.

Vassago nodded in agreement and glanced at Alastor waiting on the other side of the portal. “I hope it won’t get too bad for you, Alastor,” he told him.

“Thank you,” Alastor drawled, still looking mildly concerned about what might or might not happen during the next few hours. “We’ll see how it goes.”

Lucifer stepped through the portal and gave the two Goetia a wave goodbye, before he let the portal close. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’m getting a headache,” Alastor grumbled and let his crown vanish out of existence. “It’s not so bad, for now, at least,” he added. It didn’t really help with Lucifer’s concern for him. “Do you really think it was your dad?”

“Could just be some asshole who got a hold of some invisibility potion or some shit, too,” Lucifer said. “It doesn’t feel like something my dad would do.” The two of them started walking through the palace and towards their little library. “He prefers smiting people.” Alastor huffed at that. “How I see it,” Lucifer continued, “it could be anyone. It’s not that difficult to get into palaces, and if the one who did it had someone helping them, then it’s even more likely that they just snuck in, poisoned the food and left.”

“Too bad we won’t be able to find whoever did it,” Alastor said. “I’d like to have a bit of a talk with them.”

Lucifer hummed. “Well, I can always make some calls,” he muttered and got his phone out. “Might have to test out the demon proofing in that cellar of yours,” he said, making Alastor grin down at him. Lucifer gave him a mischievous wink, before he sent a message to the assassins asking them if someone else were out there trying to commit regicide. “When you’re not about to have the worst round of food poisoning of your life, of course.” Alastor raised an eyebrow at him. “Potentially,” Lucifer added.

“That remains to be seen,” Alastor muttered as they got to the library. Lucifer agreed with him as he opened the door, letting his husband inside, before he followed him. He got a fire going in the fireplace with a glance, and walked over to the bookshelves. Alastor ended up on the couch, where he loosened the bowtie around his neck and leaned forward so he could rest his head in his hands. “Is this going to happen a lot?” he asked.

Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied truthfully as he walked around to try and find something to read. He couldn’t find anything of interest, so he stepped over to the gramophone player. “Are you in the mood for some music, or would you rather just enjoy the silence for a while?” When Alastor didn’t answer, Lucifer turned around to look at him, seeing his husband trembling and holding his head tightly. “Al?” Lucifer asked, teleporting over to him. “Hey,” he said quietly, crouching down in front of him. Alastor’s ears were flattened back and his eyes were squeezed shut. “How are we doing?”

Alastor breathed out slowly. It turned into a pained groan. “Not great,” he admitted, making Lucifer grimace.

“I’ll ask Stolas about that thing he said he had,” he said, quickly getting his phone out and sending a message to the prince. “Just a headache, or…?”

“Currently, yes,” Alastor said, voice riddled with static. “I’m not dying, am I?” he asked quietly, catching Lucifer off-guard by the softness of it.

“No,” Lucifer whispered, placing a hand on his forearm. “Not while you’ve got my powers to back you up, at least,” he told him while giving him a gentle smile. “You’ll be fine in a day or two.”

“Ugh,” Alastor grumbled, leaning forward until his forehead rested against Lucifer’s. “I think I might just go to bed. It’s late enough,” he murmured.

“I’ll help you out,” Lucifer said as he got to his feet. He held a hand out for Alastor, who accepted the offer and let Lucifer pull him to his feet. “On a scale of one to ripping your own face off…” Lucifer trailed off.

“A six or seven, I’d say,” Alastor replied. Lucifer hummed and opened another portal up to their bedroom. “And getting worse by the minute.”

“I’ll get you some painkillers,” Lucifer said, holding Alastor’s hand and bringing him into their room and over to the bed. “You’ll be fine for a moment, won’t you?”

“I hope so,” Alastor scoffed, starting to undo the buttons on his jacket.

“Great,” Lucifer said, teleporting down to the kitchen.

He hurried to bring his phone out of his pocket, checking the message from Stolas, who said he’d gotten home and was on the lookout for the potion he had. Lucifer replied to it, before he called Nix asking him where the painkillers were. He found them a moment later after a thorough explanation of where they were, before he got a glass of water and brought the package and the glass back into their room.

Alastor still sat on the edge of the bed, eyes closed and brow scrunched, with his jacket laying bunched up behind him. His shirt was still mostly buttoned up, except the top two buttons. He was gripping the bed covers in what looked like a bad attempt at trying to handle the pain.

Lucifer hurried over to him with the pack of painkillers and the water. “Here,” he muttered, letting Alastor take the glass. His husband cracked his eyes open, squinting at him as he sipped to the water. Lucifer got a couple of pills and handed them to Alastor. “I’ll get your pyjamas,” Lucifer said, grabbed Alastor’s jacket and went over to the wardrobe while Alastor propped the pills in his mouth and took a large gulp of water to swallow them down. He deposited the jacket in the garment bag, found the pyjamas and went back to Alastor, placing it on the bed beside him. “Need a hand?” he asked and gestured to the shirt.

Alastor sighed and took another sip. “Please,” he grumbled.

Lucifer smiled at him and held his hand out. Alastor took it with his free hand and let Lucifer take out the cufflink, before he swapped hands on the glass and let him do the same with the other one. Lucifer placed the cufflinks on the nightstand and turned back to him and started unbuttoning his shirt. He made quick work of the buttons, before he helped Alastor get it off, and placed it beside him, before he grabbed the nightshirt and helped him get it on.

“I hate this,” Alastor muttered while Lucifer buttoned it up. “I feel completely useless.”

“It happens,” Lucifer replied.

“It’s not even the worst pain I’ve felt,” Alastor continued. “It’s far from as painful as falling, but I can’t even get my own nightshirt on.” He let out a sharp breath. “It’s ridiculous.”

Lucifer got the last button secured, knelt down on the floor and sat back on his haunches, grabbing one of Alastor’s feet. “Hopefully the painkillers will kick in, soon,” Lucifer said as he wiggled the shoe off. “Maybe you’ll feel better after getting some sleep?”

“I’m starting to feel overheated,” Alastor informed him grumpily, placing a hand against his forehead.

Lucifer got the other shoe off and teleported them into the wardrobe, before he got back up on his feet. “Do you need help with the pants, too, or…?”

“No, I’ll get them, myself,” Alastor said with a sigh. “Thank you.”

He handed Lucifer the empty glass and Lucifer went into the bathroom to refill it. He waited until the water was as cold as he could get it (which, in Hell, was mostly just lukewarm), created some ice cubes, placed them in the glass and went back to his husband, who was pulling the pyjama pants up. Lucifer walked around him and placed the glass on the nightstand. With that done, he started getting out of his own royal uniform.

He paused after getting his t-shirt on, glancing down at the ring around his finger. He looked over his shoulder at where Alastor was climbing under the covers. He hummed thoughtfully.

“You don’t have to join me,” Alastor muttered from the bed while he got comfortable. “It’s still pretty early.”

Lucifer smiled at him. “I was thinking you’d rather not have a nightmare on top of everything else.” Alastor huffed. “I probably won’t go to sleep, just yet, but I’ll stay, at least.” He stepped over to the bed and got under the covers, sitting with his back against the headboard. He got his phone from the nightstand and saw he had a new message from Stolas. Apparently, the prince was out of the potion and needed to make some more of it, and that he would come by the next day with it. Lucifer thanked him, before he checked the news. When he found nothing but the same old shit and gossip, he placed his phone back down and focused back on the ring.

“I can hear you thinking,” Alastor grumbled into his pillow.

Lucifer scoffed. “Sorry, I’ll stop.” Alastor cracked an eye open to look at him, before he squeezed it back shut. Lucifer touched his ring, finding the connection between his powers and Alastor’s and opened it ever so slightly. He could feel it drain him a little more than it had before. “How’s that?” he asked Alastor.

“Thank you,” Alastor sighed in relief and moved his hand so it was lying on the mattress between them. Lucifer smiled and took it, holding it gently and trying not to disturb his husband as he picked up his phone again.

It didn’t take long before he heard Alastor’s breath even out. Lucifer focused back on his phone and read another couple of messages. He checked his schedule for the next few days, seeing that he technically had a few meetings lined up. With one glace down at his husband, he sent the sins a mail that he wouldn’t be attending the one the next day, before he sent a similar mail to the angels about the day after. He didn’t know how long it would take for Alastor to feel better, but he felt like keeping the days open just in case his husband needed him around. He had no idea what to do about Alastor’s schedule, so he just sent Rosie a letter via teleportation, telling her about the situation. He had a feeling she would show up the next day, or maybe the day after at the very least.

He felt Alastor’s hand tighten its hold on him. Lucifer checked the time. A few hours had passed and he felt slightly impressed that it had taken that long for his husband to have some sort of nightmare. Usually, it happened a lot earlier. He guessed he’d just been too exhausted to really dream until then.

Lucifer watched him carefully. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if there was any way he could get him to stop having those damned nightmares. He knew they would most likely calm down more and more for every year that went by, and that, for now, they would just have to deal with it. That didn’t mean he didn’t wish he could stop them from happening altogether, though. He was dealing with the same shit.

He moved over slightly so he could feel Alastor’s forehead. It was burning hot, but at least he wasn’t clammy. Not that Alastor could get clammy, of course. Deer didn’t sweat as far as Lucifer knew. They were also demons, and heat wasn’t something that usually bothered them, much. However…

Lucifer spawned a wet cloth and rolled it up, before he placed it down on Alastor’s forehead. His husband’s tight expression softened, and Lucifer felt himself smile as he combed his fingers through his hair. He found himself wondering what would’ve happened if the two of them hadn’t died during the first year they knew each other. It was a recurring thought for him, of course. Or what would’ve happened if they’d found each other immediately. He had a feeling they would end up dancing around each other for quite a while before they got to the point where they were now, at least.

He yawned and decided to try and get some sleep. If Alastor was lucky, he’d end up sleeping through the night and feel better in the morning. Lucifer hoped so, given how pained he’d looked before he fell asleep.

He changed his grip on Alastor’s hand before he shuffled down under the duvet. He kept watching his husband for a moment longer once he laid down. The scrunched brow was back, and Lucifer could see the way his eyes moved under his eyelids. Dreaming, he thought and ran his thumb across Alastor’s knuckles. It seemed to make him relax a little, so Lucifer kept doing it until he felt himself start to drift off.

He woke up by Alastor scrambling over him and down on the floor.

Lucifer groaned at the sudden knee to his gut, before he realised what had happened. Suddenly wide awake, he shot up from the bed and out, seeing Alastor on all fours on the floor, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. His body convulsed with a gag, and Lucifer wasted no time grabbing him and helping him into the bathroom and over to the toilet. Alastor collapsed, laying sprawled over the toilet bowl and heaving. He shook violently as spit dripped into the toilet, and Lucifer felt completely helpless standing there. He ended up trying to keep Alastor’s hair out of the way as his husband got rid of whatever was in his stomach.

Another round of tremors ran through Alastor. “That’s not good,” he rasped, making Lucifer glance at the blood-filled goop in the toilet. Alastor breathed heavily as he rested his chin on the toilet seat. “You’re sure I’m not dying?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer muttered. Even if he knew Alastor would be fine, it didn’t get rid of the concern. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Feel awful,” Alastor groaned as another convulsion made its way through him. He spit into the toilet bowl when nothing more came up. “I… I think I’m going to stay here for a while,” he informed Lucifer breathlessly.

“I’ll go grab your water,” Lucifer muttered and let go of Alastor’s hair. He stepped out into their bedroom and got the glass from Alastor’s nightstand. He paused before he grabbed his duvet, too, and brought them back with him into the bathroom. He gave Alastor the glass and draped the duvet over his back. He got a hair tie and combed his fingers through Alastor’s hair, trying to get most of it away from his eyes by tying it back into a ponytail. “Is there anything else you want?” Lucifer asked.

Alastor shook his head. “No.” He gagged and Lucifer took the glass from his hand.

The water came right back up with more blood, and Lucifer bit his lip as he went back into the bedroom to get the wet cloth. It had dried up since he placed it on Alastor’s forehead, so he wetted it in the sink before he got back to him. He was sitting with his eyes closed.

“Here,” Lucifer said, wiping his lips and chin. Alastor barely managed to open his eyes to look at him, looking on the verge of death with how pale he was. “Still feel like you’re going to throw up, or do you want to move a bit?”

“I don’t think I should go back to bed, yet,” Alastor told him quietly. “It feels like my stomach is trying to make a break for it.”

“We can just stay here, too,” Lucifer offered.

“We?” Alastor asked, glancing up at him. “You don’t have to—”

“I’m not leaving you here,” Lucifer interrupted him with a huff. “Come on, Al,” he muttered and packed the duvet tighter around his husband, before he helped him to his feet and over to the wall, where he helped him sit back down. Lucifer placed himself right down beside him with his legs crossed. “I cancelled our meetings for the next couple of days,” he informed him.

“Completely unnecessary,” Alastor scoffed.

“Like you’d end up going to those meetings like this,” Lucifer retorted.

“I’m talking about your meetings,” Alastor grumbled. “You don’t have to stay here and look after me. I can take care of myself.”

Lucifer snorted at that. “When you’re not poisoned, yeah.”

“I’m getting better,” Alastor argued.

“You’re getting worse,” Lucifer said. “You’re shivering, you feel like an electric heater and you can barely stand on your own. Not to mention you almost ended up vomiting all over the bedroom floor. I’m staying home.”

Alastor grumbled something under his breath, before he shuffled a little closer to Lucifer and rested his forehead on his shoulder. Lucifer brought his hand up and brushed his fingers through his husband’s hair, paused to give his ears a couple of scritches, before he continued. Alastor sighed and tugged the duvet tighter around himself.

“How’s the headache?” Lucifer asked.

“Beyond face-ripping pain,” Alastor said dryly. “This helps, though,” he murmured, leaning into Lucifer’s touch. “Takes the focus away from feeling like I’m getting lobotomized.”

Lucifer snickered at that, before he leaned over and pressed a small kiss to the side of Alastor’s head. He almost wished he’d gotten his own duvet, but after a moment, he felt Alastor move closer until he could bring Lucifer into his little cocoon. Lucifer had to fight the urge to coo at him for it, especially when he felt his arms wrap around him.

“Try and get some sleep,” Lucifer whispered, hugging him a little closer just to keep him from slumping down on the floor.

Alastor muttered something unintelligible, but didn’t argue. He nuzzled a little into his shoulder, as if the pressure helped stim the worst of the pain, before he got as comfortable as he could on the tiled floor. Lucifer ended up closing his eyes after a while, trying to think of other things he could do to help. Giving him more power helped a little, but the problem was that it could get too much. Just giving him the little extra boost, earlier, could potentially be damaging, which was why he planned on cutting back on it when Alastor got over the worst of the effects from the poison. He didn’t need him to get power hungry, even if he knew there wasn’t that big of a chance it would happen. He just wanted to be careful with it.

Alastor shook him awake a couple of hours after Lucifer fell asleep. He muttered something about needing some help getting back to the toilet, and Lucifer helped him up and over, where his husband had another round of bloody vomiting. Lucifer got the glass from where he’d put it on the sink and filled it up, before he got Alastor to rinse his mouth.

“Aw,” Alastor groaned disgustedly as he glanced into the toilet bowl.

Lucifer followed his gaze. “What the fuck,” he said. “Is that a fucking hand?”

Sure enough, a severed, half-digested hand bobbed on the surface of the bloody water. The two of them stared at it, and Lucifer felt a strange sense of surrealness wash over him.

“I had lunch with Rosie,” Alastor told him quietly.

“Did you bring her some of our leftover sacrifices?” Lucifer asked.

“We shared an arm.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Lucifer huffed. “I think it’s going to clog the pipes if we try and flush it.”

“Ugh,” Alastor grumbled as he rested his forehead on the toilet seat. “What a waste of human meat.”

“You’ll get more,” Lucifer said, and snapped his fingers to get rid of the hand in the toilet, which wasn’t something he thought he’d thought he would ever have to do. He guessed living with a cannibal created strange situations whenever said cannibal got sick. “How’re you feeling, now?”

“Like I might want to chance going back to bed,” Alastor said tiredly, glancing up at Lucifer.

Lucifer smiled and nodded, reaching down and helping him back up. The two of them made their way into the bedroom, where Lucifer deposited Alastor on the bed before he went back into the bathroom to collect his glass and a new cloth. He also got a bucket and placed it beside Alastor’s side of the bed, just in case he got another urge to throw up and couldn’t get to the bathroom in time.

With that done, the two of them actually managed to get some better sleep than they had. Both were too exhausted to dream, which was wonderful, and when they woke up around noon, Alastor seemed to be getting slightly better. He was still not doing great, but at least he seemed to be able to hold down some water and another couple of painkillers. After another hour waiting for them to work, they got out of bed. Lucifer was starving after not really having eaten anything the day prior, so he decided starting the day with some breakfast would be nice.

He opened a portal to their kitchen, and let Alastor—who was still nicely wrapped up in his duvet, through it. He went right over to the small dining table by the window overlooking the palace gardens, before sitting down and resting his head on the table. Lucifer guessed he was still not doing great, so he let him be while he made himself some food.

“Do you want anything?” he asked.

“No, thanks,” Alastor said, voice muffled from where he was talking into the tabletop.

“Not even some soup or something? I could make something that isn’t so hard on the stomach, if you’d like?”

Alastor hesitated, and Lucifer decided to make something for the both of them, instead, so he got out a big pot, before he started looking for some ingredients in the fridge. He found some chicken and other things needed for chicken and rice soup, which he quickly got to work with making. It didn’t take too long before the smell of it filled the kitchen. Lucifer’s stomach growled.

He let the soup cook while he got them a couple of bowls. He placed them on the counter, filled them with rice and soup, and moved over to where Alastor was still having his face squashed against the table. Lucifer placed his own bowl down on the other side of the table, before he went back to Alastor and placed his bowl down in front of him.

“Here you go,” Lucifer said. Alastor didn’t answer, and for a moment Lucifer wondered if he’d actually just died. He was lying completely still. “Al?”

Alastor let out a quiet bleat, which wasn’t a sound Lucifer heard often. He helped him sit up, only to see a pretty concerning sight, if Lucifer was being honest.

“I think I’ll skip breakfast,” Alastor spluttered wetly as more blood ran down his chin like a fucking waterfall. It kept coming, and Lucifer had to admit his heart sped up considerably at the sight of it. It had apparently been happening for a while, since not only was Alastor’s hair and face covered in it, but so was the table, the duvet and the floor. The longer he sat upright, the more of it ran down his throat, too, and Lucifer had a feeling it would look like a proper murder scene if Alastor opened his arms.

“Yeah,” Lucifer agreed with a squeak, feeling a little lost on what to do. “Are you okay?”

Alastor glared at him, another round of red bubbling out from between his lips. “Do I look okay?” he spat.

“Not particularly, no,” Lucifer admitted. “I don’t—I have no idea what to do, right now,” he said, which seemed to make Alastor start to worry, too. “I’ll call Stolas,” he muttered as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Please do,” Alastor gurgled.

Lucifer grimaced and found Stolas’ contact, pressed it and held his phone up to his ear. He waited until the prince answered before he sat down on top of the table. Alastor closed his eyes again.

“Your Majesty,” Stolas said. “How’s he doing?”

“Not great,” Lucifer replied. “How’s that potion coming along?”

“It should be done in a couple of hours,” Stolar assured him.

“Ah,” Lucifer muttered. “Uhm.” He cleared his throat. “Should I be worried if he just won’t stop vomiting blood, or is that just something that should be expected?”

“I—I’m sorry, what?”

Lucifer didn’t like that. “It looks like he’s bleeding internally,” he informed him. “It’s just blood, nothing else.” The silence on the other end made Lucifer’s heart stutter. He glanced at where Alastor was still sitting with his eyes shut. “Stolas?”

“I’ll try and get this potion done faster,” Stolas said. “I don’t think he’s dying, but it’s slightly concerning that he’s bleeding so much.”

“He’s been vomiting blood all night,” Lucifer muttered.

Stolas went quiet, again, before he sighed. “It must’ve been a deadly dose, then,” he said, making a shiver go down Lucifer’s spine. “I guess most people don’t know about your connection?”

“No,” Lucifer said. “We keep it out of the public eye. Only the people who attended our wedding knows about it, and another few we know are trustworthy.” Lucifer turned to the soup bowl beside him and got a spoonful. He brought it up to his mouth and slurped it up, before he placed the spoon back in the bowl. Alastor raised an eyebrow at him. “I might try and give him a bit more power, just to help him heal.”

“That should work for the time being,” Stolas agreed. “Do be careful, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll only give him enough to help him out a bit. Nothing more,” Lucifer said quietly.

“Good,” Stolas replied. “I’ll see you in not too long, then, Your Highness.”

“Please hurry,” Lucifer told him and hung up, before he placed his phone back in his pocket and turned to Alastor. The blood was still gushing out from between his lips, and he looked like he was struggling to stay awake. Lucifer found their connection, again, and opened it a little bit more, until it looked like the bleeding stopped. “How’s that?”

“Relieving,” Alastor said quietly, licking his lips and pushing another glob of blood out from his mouth. Lucifer almost though it had started up again, but the longer he stared at him, the more he realised it had stopped. “Do you mind cleaning me up?” he asked.

Lucifer jumped off of the table and walked over to him. He cradled his head carefully in his hands, before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting his powers bathe his husband in a warm breeze, before the blood vanished from both Alastor, the table and the floor.

“Thank you, dear,” Alastor murmured and pulled the duvet tighter around himself. He glanced at the bowl of soup. “Do you think I’d be able to keep some of it down?”

“You must be delirious if you actually want something I cooked,” Lucifer said jokingly.

“You’ve gotten much better at it,” Alastor admitted.

“And a compliment,” Lucifer huffed as he jumped back up on the table and picked up Alastor’s bowl. He scooped up some soup and held the spoon up to Alastor. “It’s probably not too hot anymore.”

“I don’t mind,” Alastor said and let Lucifer spoon feed him.

“I told Rosie about you getting poisoned, too,” Lucifer informed him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes by soon. I told her to wait until tomorrow, though, just in case you’d rather just get a bit better before you get smothered.”

Alastor swallowed down another spoonful. “What do you call this, then?”

“Oh, shut your trap,” Lucifer scoffed playfully. It made Alastor grin a little wider, which made him think the worst of it might actually be over, as long as they got the potion from Stolas and Lucifer kept the power connection between them opened as much as he currently had. He didn’t know if he dared open it further, at least. “Does it feel like you’ll be able to keep it down? Do you want more? Something else?”

Alastor chuckled, and the sound made Lucifer’s worry dwindle down into a much more manageable simmer. It also made him think his husband might actually be a bit drunk on the amount of energy he was getting from him, but he preferred that over listening to him gulp up blood. So, he continued to feed him until he was at the bottom of the bowl.

“You’re a marvel, darling,” Alastor told him and rested his head back on the table, looking up at him, this time. Lucifer couldn’t help but grin shyly at that, before he placed the bowl back on the table. He ran a hand through Alastor’s hair. “I’ll just stay here for a bit,” he muttered. “Feel free to finish your own breakfast.”

Lucifer had honestly forgotten about it, so he reached over and grabbed his own bowl and started eating his soup. He heard Alastor sigh contentedly beside him. Lucifer let his legs dangle a little. He didn’t know it would be this fun to take care of someone. Well, ‘fun’ might be a bit of a strong word, but he found himself enjoying it more than he thought it would. It reminded him a bit of when Charlie was young and he took care of her when she got Hell flu.

He heard Alastor’s breathing even out a bit beside him, and he glanced down seeing him having drifted off, again. Lucifer took the opportunity to check his phone and whatever messages he’d gotten. A couple from Charlie wishing Alastor a fast recovery. Emily sent something similar, as well as a new meeting request for the next week instead. He checked his calendar before he accepted it. He got one from Satan, too, which Lucifer accepted quickly and got it out of the way. Vassago had invited the two of them on a new dinner in a couple of weeks, saying he decided to host instead of having Lucifer and Alastor have to think about that, too, with how busy they were.

Surprisingly, he’d actually gotten a message from Andrealphus, saying he was sorry for the poor security during the dinner.

Lucifer scoffed at that, knowing the prince was more likely to send him a message just to stay in his good graces, instead of actually feeling any empathy for what had happened to Alastor. He let that message stay unread for a while longer.

He finished his breakfast and got down from the table. He moved over to the sink and placed the bowls into it, before he got some big food containers to put the rest of the soup in. He put the leftovers into the fridge and did the dishes, cleaned the counter and the table, before he heard a knock on the kitchen door. He turned around and saw Nix stand there with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“Good afternoon, sire,” Nix said quietly with a bow, before he glanced at Alastor. “Is he doing alright?”

“Better now, I think,” Lucifer replied with a sad smile. The palace staff had grown pretty fond of the prince consort. He guessed Alastor was a lot more polite with them than he let on. Lucifer had been slightly worried about it in the beginning, but even the younger staff members often greeted his husband with bright grins. Some of them even showed him their hobbies, and the kids of the staff who’d grown up in the castle often ended up giving him random drawings and paintings, which Alastor apparently had a lot of fun with. Lucifer knew he kept all of them in a secret drawer somewhere.

“Much,” Alastor croaked from the table.

“A little bit,” Lucifer said.

Nix looked relieved. “That’s wonderful,” the old imp said. “Well, Ms Rosie came by with a small ‘get-well-soon’ present and a promise that she would stop by tomorrow evening when His Highness feels a bit better.” He brought out a small basket from behind his back with some salty crackers and other goodies.

Lucifer took it from him. “I’ll have to get her something in return,” he muttered, bringing the basket over to Alastor, who’d managed to push himself up on his elbows to check out the things his friend had brought him. Apparently, there were also a few severed fingers, and from the recent memory of a hand in bloody toilet water, Alastor placed it gingerly back in the basket. Lucifer chuckled, earning himself a dry look.

“We’re expecting Stolas in not too long, too, Nix,” Lucifer told the imp.

“I’ll get the kids to keep an eye on the door, then, Your Majesty.” Nix looked over to Alastor. “Some of them wanted to get you a get-well card, too, but I told them not to disturb you, for now” he told him. Alastor huffed. “You might get them tomorrow. They went to great lengths to make them.”

Lucifer had to look away from his husband so he didn’t end up snickering. He knew Alastor didn’t like admitting that he was surprisingly good with the kids living in the palace. Well, he wasn’t great at it in the beginning, but those stubborn firecrackers didn’t give up until they’d won him over.

“Do tell them that I’ll happily receive them tomorrow, then,” Alastor told Nix, who gave him a quick nod and hurried off to get everything prepared for Stolas’ arrival. Lucifer still kept his back to him. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“I didn’t say anything,” Lucifer said, voice wavering with barely held-back laughter. “What else did Rosie give you?” he asked, deciding to change the subject before his husband got mad at him for finding him oddly adorable.

“Just some teas,” Alastor informed him, pushing the basket over to him.

“Nice,” Lucifer said. “Want me to make you some?”

Alastor thought it over for a moment. “Yes, that would be lovely,” he muttered. “Thank you.”

“Peppermint or lemon?” Lucifer asked.

“Peppermint, I think” Alastor said. “I need to get the taste of stomach acid and blood out of my mouth.”

Lucifer took the tea out of the basket and went over to the counter, again, getting the kettle from the cupboard before he filled it with water. He got two mugs, before he paused and got a third, just in case Stolas ended up staying for a while. He got some apple tea for himself and decided to just bring the kettle and a variety of teabags in case Stolas wanted some.

“Should we take this to the library?” Lucifer asked Alastor, who’d opened the box of salty crackers and was nibbling on one of them. Alastor shrugged. “It’s better than just sitting in the kitchen,” Lucifer added.

“I don’t want to move much in case I get worse,” Alastor said.

“You don’t have to move again if we go to the library,” Lucifer said. “We can just stay there until the evening if you want?”

The kettle whistled, Alastor winced and Lucifer hurried to take it off of the stove. He opened a portal to the library and brought the kettle with him, as well as the tea and the teacups, balancing everything expertly on his arms as he walked through the portal. He managed to get the cups down on the table just before one of them lost its balance. He put the kettle and the tea down, and went back to help Alastor.

Alastor had gotten up from his seat. He swayed a little, and Lucifer hurried over to steady him as he led him back over to the portal and through it. He helped him down on the couch, before he opened the box of peppermint tea and got some out and into a tea strainer, poured the steaming hot water into the cup and placed the strainer into it. He poured some water into his own cup and got a teabag with apple and cinnamon tea out of the box and dipped it in.

Alastor opened the duvet a little just to reveal that he’d brought the crackers. He placed them down on the table, before he scooted back so he could bring his legs up onto the couch. There was a knock on the door, and Lucifer put his teacup down and got up. He opened the door to reveal Nix and Stolas.

“Thanks, Nix,” Lucifer said. The imp bowed his head, before he handed Lucifer a small piece of paper, and hurried off. Lucifer didn’t think much of it as he turned to Stolas. “Thank you for coming.”

“Well, he’s become a friend to me, too, so I believe it’s a nice gesture to help each other out when dealing with assassination attempts,” Stolas said. Lucifer stepped aside to let him in. “I do hope the potion helps.”

“It’s better than using my powers,” Lucifer muttered as he closed the door behind the prince.

“Hello, Alastor,” Stolas greeted the demon on the couch.

“Good afternoon,” Alastor replied pleasantly.

“I got you some tea,” Lucifer said while walking over to the couch. He gestured for Stolas to take a seat in the chair, before he sat down beside Alastor. “I didn’t know which one you prefer, so I just grabbed a few different ones.”

“Thank you,” Stolas said with a gentle smile as he took his seat. He took one of the green teas and poured some water into the empty teacup. “I do hope the potion works even though I had to try and speed up the process.” He waved his hand, and a small vial with a sparkling, purple liquid inside it, appeared. He placed it on the table and pushed it over to Lucifer, who grabbed it and inspected it carefully, before he handed it over to Alastor.

Alastor opened the vial and sniffed it. “Do I just drink all of it?”

“Yes, all of it,” Stolas confirmed as he dipped his teabag in the water. “It might help for a while, but if you feel like you’re starting to get worse, again, I brought an extra you can take. It mostly just reduces the symptoms while your body fights the poison.”

Alastor hummed and drank it like if he was taking a shot. He swallowed it down and wrinkled his nose, before he placed the empty vial down on the table. He coughed, which made him gag, which made Lucifer tense up.

“False alarm,” Alastor reassured him, making Lucifer relax. “Thank you, Stolas.”

“It was the least I could do,” Stolas replied. “I also have news from Blitz about the assassin.”

Alastor and Lucifer perked up at that.

“Oh, do tell,” Alastor said with a sharp grin.

“She’s part of a rebellion, I believe he said,” Stolas told them. “Someone who aren’t too fond of what you’ve done with Heaven and the connection between the two realms.” He sighed and took a sip of the tea. “I don’t know how big it is. It could be bigger than it seems, but for now we only know of a few members. It’s the assassin and her friends.”

“Were all of them in on the attempt?” Lucifer asked as he glanced down at the piece of paper in his hands. He smiled a little when he noticed the glitter, and handed it over to Alastor, who accepted the homemade card. Lucifer got his own teacup and placed the bag down on the saucer. “Or was it just her?”

“I believe there were at least three of them, if Blitz and the others are correct,” Stolas said. “The assassin herself is a chameleon demon, so she can get into most places without being spotted.”

“Great,” Lucifer muttered.

“Exactly,” Stolas said. “She could be a potential threat to all of us royals. The Goetia aren’t as high on the hierarchy as the two of you, and you saw what happened to our dear Alastor, here, after getting poisoned.”

“I don’t really know what I can do about it,” Lucifer admitted and crossed his legs up on the couch. “We’re definitely going to get her and whoever else who’s behind the assassination attempt, and punish them, but I can’t just wipe them out of existence, either.”

“Well, you can,” Alastor muttered, looking up from the glittering card he was reading.

“But it would just make us more unpopular, I think,” Lucifer argued, glancing at him. “I can always shove them into Limbo after you’re done with them, but they’d just get back out again after a while.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Stolas said. “To be honest, I don’t think there’s much any of us can to do make it stop. There’s always going to be people opposed to what we do, no matter how beneficial it is for everyone.” Lucifer nodded in agreement. “I guess we can only do our best.”

“Well, we’re trying, at least,” Lucifer said.

“And truth be told,” Stolas said. “I think people favour you a lot more now than they did just ten years ago. Both of you.” Lucifer smiled a little at that. “You already showed them that you’re willing to die and fall for our realm. I think you’ve earned most of the demons’ respect for that. And of course, the improvements and rebuilding efforts the two of you’ve brought Hell has most of us enjoying our stay here much more than we’ve done for thousands of years, I’d say. We’re not living in fear, anymore, and that’s all thanks to you.”

“We’re not the only ones who fought in the war,” Lucifer pointed out.

“But you’re the ones who ended it,” Stolas retorted with a smile. “Either way, the two of you did a lot for this place, and you’re still working on making it become greater than it was. Most of us demons are happy about that.”

“Well,” Lucifer muttered. “Good to know we’re not completely hopeless.”

Stolas chuckled. “You’re both morons, but you have some good plans.”

“Mostly Al,” Lucifer huffed and nodded to his husband, who nodded along as he kept inspecting the card. Lucifer glanced at him. “How much did they write?”

“A novel,” Alastor said dryly and showed him the incredibly tiny writing that littered the entirety of the card, as well as the back of it. The only part without writing was the front, which had a glittering radio drawn on it—if you didn’t count the ‘Get well soon, Al!!!!’ written in what was clearly a child’s handwriting, of course.

“They spoil you,” Lucifer said.

“The little bastards added glitter just to spite me,” Alastor grumbled and placed the card down on the table. “I’ll be finding glitter everywhere for the next century.” He picked up his tea and a cracker, dipping the cracker in the drink. “What a hellish invention.”

“I was pretty proud of that one,” Lucifer muttered.

“Of course, you’re behind it,” Alastor scoffed and bit down on the cracker.

Stolas smiled. “You’re surprisingly good with kids, it seems.”

Lucifer snickered, making Alastor send him an annoyed glare. “I’m nothing of the sort,” Alastor told Stolas. “I told them to stay away from me the moment I met them. They took it as a damned challenge.” He sighed. “They keep giving me stupid, little drawings, just to try and win me over. It’s not going to work.”

“Worked pretty well when it was me doing it,” Lucifer drawled and took a sip of his tea.

“You’re not a child,” Alastor replied curtly. “And you draw badly on purpose.”

Lucifer grinned cheekily at Stolas. “He keeps telling the kids they’re drawing masterpieces.”

“I’m not. I’m telling them straight up that their skills need to be improved, but they keep insisting that I keep the drawings, anyway.”

“Seems you’re feeling better with how much energy you have to argue with me,” Lucifer said with a smirk, which made Alastor pause.

“Seems you’re right,” he muttered, placing a hand to his forehead. “The headache is almost gone.”

“Most likely a combination of the potion and your powers, Lucifer,” Stolas said. “You might want to keep that connection of yours open until tomorrow, just in case.”

“Yeah, I’ll dial it down gradually, just in case, too,” he muttered.

Stolas nodded and finished his tea. “Good idea,” he said. “Well, I guess I’ll take my leave.” He placed the teacup down on the table and got up, before he spawned a second vial and placed it on the table. “The second one, as promised,” he told them, before he grinned. “Thank you for the tea,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Lucifer replied, smiling back up at him. “Do you want me to show you out?”

“That’s not necessary,” Stolas assured him with a wave of his hand. “Keep an eye on our friend in case he has some reaction to the potion.”

“Reaction?” Alastor questioned.

“Just some side-effects,” Stolas said. “Sleepiness and maybe some dizziness if you’re unlucky. Nothing to worry about.”

“That I can live with,” Alastor replied. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my friend.” He gave the two of them a nod, before he made his way over to the door. Lucifer got up to follow him out of the room, at least. “I’ll keep talking to Blitz about the assassin. If we find her, we’ll get her and whoever else was in on it, to you.”

“Appreciate it,” Lucifer said and opened the door for him. “If there’s anything we can do to pay you back for all of this, just say the word,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stolas said. “Have a nice evening, Your Majesties.”

“You, too,” Lucifer said and waved at him, before he closed the door behind him. He saw Alastor picking the card back up, continuing to read the long letter the kids most likely had gotten either an older sibling to write, or one of their parents. Lucifer could see Alastor start looking a little more bleary-eyed. “I guess I’ll have to find a novel of my own,” Lucifer huffed and stepped over to the bookshelves. Alastor yawned, the potion kicking in, apparently.

“I don’t understand how they manage to write so much extra, completely unnecessary fluff,” he complained as he turned the card over in his hand to read the back of it. “There’s nothing of importance in this entire card. They keep repeating themselves over and over, just using slightly different words.”  

Lucifer chortled as he picked out a book to read. “They just want you to feel appreciated,” he said and walked back over to the couch.  

“It would be enough with the cover,” Alastor said gruffly as Lucifer sat back down beside him. Lucifer shrugged and opened his book on the first page. “What are you reading?”

“You got a lot of energy from that potion, damn,” Lucifer huffed and held up the book so Alastor could read the cover. “Jekyll and Hyde,” he informed his husband, who finally seemed to finish the card and placed it back on the table.

“Would you mind reading for me?” Alastor asked quietly.

“Sure,” Lucifer replied and crossed his legs, again, before he shuffled a little closer to the armrest, placed a pillow in his lap and opened his arm in invitation. Alastor tightened his hold on the duvet, and scooted closer until he could rest his head on Lucifer’s shoulder. Lucifer draped his arm around Alastor’s shoulder, before he slid his hand into his hair, playing with it. “Let’s see…” he murmured as he used his free hand to find the first page, before he started reading out loud.

It didn’t take long before he heard Alastor start snoring slightly, and Lucifer trailed off. He smiled to himself as he started humming a little tune.

“Stars shinin’ bright above you,” he sang quietly, hoping singing for his husband would take care of that last, little headache he probably still had. “Night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you’,” he continued, combing his fingers through his hair gently. “Birds singin’ in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me,” he whispered, before he placed a gentle kiss to the top of Alastor’s head. “I love you.”

Alastor snuggled a little closer to him.

Lucifer smiled and kept reading, finally feeling like the worst of it was over and that he could relax.

Chapter Text

“Good morning, Hell,” Alastor said into his microphone. “Let me start off this broadcast by wishing you all a great war anniversary. Eight years! My, how time flies.” He leaned back in his chair and propped his legs up on the desk in front of him. “I do hope you’re celebrating with your friends and family, or by yourself if you so desire. I would be celebrating with my husband if he actually bothered to show up—”

“Oh, fuck off! I have a lot of shit to do!” Lucifer scoffed as he popped into the radio station in a burst of red and golden smoke.

Alastor huffed. “You had nothing special planned this entire morning, which was why you said yes to join me during the anniversary broadcast in the first place.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and walked over to him. “Well, I got caught up in trying to figure out the schedule for the rest of the day.” He slumped into the ratty, old, office chair that Alastor had in his radio station and rolled closer to him. “I’ve got that whole Hell-tour thing, today, and the parade and everything.”

“And the speech,” Alastor mused, making Lucifer grimace. His husband still hated public speaking, but at least he was getting better at it. “You did write it, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I did,” Lucifer said.

Alastor grinned at him. “You did it just this morning, didn’t you?”

“Wh—What? No! Of course not!” Alastor raised an eyebrow at his high-pitched voice. Lucifer deflated. “I did it right before I got here,” he admitted, eyes landing on the microphone. “Fuck, are we on?”

“We’ve been on the air for a solid three minutes, already, darling,” Alastor said.

“Okay, so to clarify,” Lucifer said after a slightly too long pause, “I had most of it planned out, but I needed to write it down just in case I forgot something.”

“Liar,” Alastor said.

“Look, you try and come up with a speech that fits an eight-year anniversary,” Lucifer grumbled. “It’s too far away from the first anniversary to make it feel fresh, and too close to the tenth anniversary to feel significant.” He sighed and leaned his elbows on the desk. “Bringing in things that’ve happened during the year also feels a bit stupid, since it’s not a new-year’s speech.”

“If I knew you were going to complain about your kingly duties, I wouldn’t have invited you on,” Alastor scoffed playfully, making Lucifer slap his arm gently. “Well, either way, I’m sure our listeners don’t mind hearing your voice.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they love it,” Lucifer replied sarcastically. Alastor tilted his head a little. There were some nerves hidden in the dry retort that he couldn’t place. It could be the public speaking, but for some reason it felt like something else caused it. “Well, don’t mind me, people. Lots to do and little time to do it, you know? What’s on the agenda, today, my dear, amazing, fantastic husband?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!” Alastor smiled as he thought through his planned program for the day. “For the two of us, it’s of course supplying our lovely subjects with some music while they prepare for the rest of the day, with some fun segments scattered in-between. After that, there’s the parade around noon going around the city, which will end in front of the embassy. There will be held a concert with a bunch of your favourite artist, such as the lovely Verosika Mayday and others—”

“—I’ll be holding my speech to open the show,” Lucifer piped in.

“Ah, yes,” Alastor agreed. “I mean, I don’t understand why you don’t just sing instead. It would probably be better than just drawling on about nothing in particular for an hour.”

“It’s not an hour,” Lucifer huffed.

“Oh, right. My apologies. I meant two minutes given how long it took you to write it,” Alastor drawled, making Lucifer narrow his eyes at him. “Now, after the concert, I’m sure there’s going to be a lot of parties all over Pentagram City and the rest of Hell. Of course, the other rings have their own celebrations. I’m sure most of you already know where you’re going, today, but if not, feel free to check out the programs in the other rings, and go have some fun.”

“Lastly, when it gets dark, we’ll continue our new tradition here in Pride, so if you’re in one of the other rings, you’re welcome to come here and check it out,” Lucifer said as music started to drift into the air as Alastor transitioned into the first musical segment of the morning.

“Were you really late because you were writing a speech, or is there something else I should worry about?” Alastor asked after he’d turned off his microphone.

Lucifer smiled, making Alastor know he’d definitely been doing something else than writing a speech. “Charlie wondered if you wanted to help her out a bit with the hotel while I’m on that tour,” his husband said, ignoring the question. “But I mean, you’re free to join me, too, of course. I’m just going to show my face in the other rings and then come back here for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Alastor smirked. “You’ve got something special planned?”

“I got us a table at a restaurant in Gluttony,” Lucifer told him. “I felt like celebrating a bit, today, too. You know, other than making some grand show during the parade.”

Alastor chuckled. It wasn’t just the eighth anniversary for the end of the war with Heaven, or the eighth anniversary for the end of Heaven’s oppression over Hell. It was also the eighth anniversary of when the two of them had truly gotten together, their eighth anniversary of their death, their eighth anniversary for getting redeemed, as well as their eighth anniversary for falling. So, there were quite a few things to celebrate.

“You didn’t get me anything, did you?” Alastor asked.

Lucifer huffed. “No, it’s not even our tenth anniversary. Of course I didn’t get you anything,” he said as he spawned a small bouquet of wilted, magenta-coloured roses and a vinyl record with jazz hits from the fifties. Alastor raised an eyebrow at him as he accepted the gifts, before he placed them on the table beside him. “I don’t need anything in return, of course,” Lucifer said quickly. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly open about actually getting you anything, so—”

“Nonsense,” Alastor said, cutting off Lucifer’s rambling as he got a jar of apple sauce out of his void and handed it over to his husband. “It’s from Earth.”

“Oh,” Lucifer said, taking the jar. He inspected the label and gave Alastor a sly grin. “Did you get the cult to get it for you, or did you get it yourself?”

“I had an agreement with them that they would get me a jar the next time they summoned me,” Alastor explained and motioned for Lucifer to get ready to go live, again. Lucifer nodded and placed the jar on the table beside him, before he reached over and grabbed Alastor’s hand. “And we’re back,” Alastor spoke into his microphone, again. “For our new listeners, you’re listening to the Radio Demon’s special war anniversary morning broadcast, featuring the one and only Lucifer Morningstar. Say hi, darling.”

“Mornin’,” Lucifer drawled.

“As a little treat for our listeners, we got our dear Charlie to send out a request for the amazing demons in Hell, asking them to send us some questions, what their plans are for the anniversary, or whatever their hearts desire,” Alastor said as he saw Lucifer take out his phone. He went into one of the social media apps and found his daughter’s post, and found the comment section. “Did anyone comment on her post?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer said, showing him the thousands of replies. “We won’t be able to get through all of them.”

“Just skip the trolls,” Alastor muttered, looking over Lucifer’s shoulder.

“Which means most of them,” Lucifer scoffed. “We’re in Hell. They’re all trolls.” He paused at one of them, before he huffed. “Well, at least someone’s spending the day with their friends. I guess we’ll see you at the concert, Horse_Gorl69,” Lucifer said, before he continued to scroll through the insane number of criticisms, lewd comments and just some random responses that had nothing to do with the post.

“I believe we’ll have to come up with something else to do during our segments,” Alastor said with a shrug. He’d expected the request to fail, but at least he’d hoped for a couple of good questions to answer. A small voice in the back of his head told him that if Vox had sent the same request to the people of Hell, he’d actually get quite a lot of genuine feedback, which really grated on Alastor’s nerves. That damned TV and it’s fucking hypnotic capabilities. “Of course, if you’d like to tell us something else, or ask us anything, we’ll keep checking the post, so if you’d like to say something, or have us shout out something to someone special, feel free to comment.”

“Oh, here’s a question,” Lucifer said with a smile. “Someone asks how the two of us met.”

“On Earth,” Alastor replied curtly, not really feeling like telling the entirety of Hell about how he met his husband.

Lucifer snorted. “That’s it?”

“I never said I would answer the questions in detail,” Alastor said.

“Alright,” Lucifer huffed and kept scrolling. “So many sexual questions, fucking Christ,” he mumbled as he read through the comments. “I guess I can’t really complain, either. They’re questions, at least.”

“Well, while you scroll, and our listeners come up with better questions than who tops, let’s listen to some music,” Alastor said pleasantly and let his music take over the broadcast and he turned his microphone off. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Lucifer said with a nod, handing the phone over to Alastor, who scrolled through the numerous comments about anything from favourite position to someone straight-up asking them to fuck on the show. He wrinkled his nose and handed the phone back to Lucifer, who took it and continued to search for something more fitting. “I’ll just screenshot the ones we can answer. If we just answer more in-depth, I guess we won’t need too many of them.”

“That very much depends on the question,” Alastor muttered as he glanced out at the city. It glimmered in the early morning, and while it was currently quiet, he knew there would be a lot more life in it just a few hours later. He was actually looking forward to the parade. The previous years, they’d mostly been celebrating the anniversary by letting their subjects do whatever they wanted. The first one had been quite a silent affair, given the freshness of losing so many people. The more years that passed, the more energy it seemed that the population got. This year, they’d decided to go for a carnival, which most of the demons had seemed more than happy about. “I’m not telling our entire story to a bunch of demons,” he said.

“Yeah, well,” Lucifer said as he took a screenshot and moved on to another comment that he seemed okay with answering. “I guess we could talk about our favourite colours for five minutes straight.”

“Demons are surprisingly unimaginative if that’s what they want to know,” Alastor scoffed. “What if we ask them to tell us about what they did during the war?”

“Seeing their friends and family die? I don’t think that’s going to be too well-received,” Lucifer said, pausing at one of the comments and huffing. “Well, someone also wants to know what we did during the war.” Lucifer glanced at him. “Probably not the best idea to mention being half-dead and stuck in your rival’s basement for the majority of it.”

“Fuck you,” Alastor grumbled and picked the phone out of Lucifer’s hand. “You ended up in the same basement.”

“That was my plan from the start,” Lucifer said.

“So, you planned to get stabbed by a moth and get Lilith brutally murdered by a flatscreen TV in the middle of a war?”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “A slight miscalculation on my part.” He cleared his throat and put his legs up on the desk.

“Ah, yes, just a slight one,” Alastor said mockingly. “How did you even get into the tower in the first place?”

“Lilith knew a way in through the sewers,” Lucifer said.

“So, you ended up in the basement,” Alastor said.

“I—well…” Lucifer glanced at him through the corner of his eye, before he looked down at his claws. “That might’ve been a bit bigger of a miscalculation than the plan in general.”

“You had no plan,” Alastor stated.

“Well, I did, but it wasn’t a great one,” Lucifer huffed. “And I mean, we probably should’ve started the search from the bottom and not gone for the top-down approach, like we did.”

“Your hindsight is astonishing,” Alastor said dryly and handed the phone back to Lucifer and picked up his microphone again. “Well, I hope everyone are having a splendid morning with whatever preparations you’re working on,” he said. “We’ll keep our anniversary broadcast going with another question, won’t we, Lucifer?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Lucifer said as he brought up the screenshots he’d taken. “Let’s see,” he muttered. “Do you often go back to the crater you made?”

“Never,” Alastor replied. “It’s not exactly a pleasant reminder.”

“I went a couple of times,” Lucifer admitted making Alastor glance at him. “There’s this perfect outline of my body, there.”

Alastor stared at him. “What?”

“I’m not even kidding,” Lucifer said and pulled up another picture and showed him. Alastor had a bit of trouble looking at it, feeling his heart pick up speed, but his husband wasn’t lying. There was a clear outline of a body, and from the size of it, it was clearly Lucifer. It wasn’t actually a perfect replica, but you could definitely see it. “Call it a morbid fascination, but I couldn’t help but take a picture of it.” He grinned sheepishly at Alastor. “As for how I can stomach going back there in the first place? Well, I’m living in the first one I made, so I guess it’s not too strange for me.” He glanced at the microphone. “Also, the second time I actually wanted to fall, so I don’t think it was that bad in comparison to the first one.”

“You still wake up crying sometimes,” Alastor pointed out.

“So do you, tough guy,” Lucifer retorted with a smirk. “And I never said it wasn’t horrible. Just slightly less horrible because I fell for Hell, for my people and for, well, you.” He smiled softly at him, making Alastor’s heart stutter a little. He already knew why Lucifer didn’t feel like it wasn’t as bad as his first fall, but hearing him say it always made him feel loved in such a weird way. “The pain felt more worth it than being kicked out of my home by my own siblings for giving people free will.”

“Sounds like a better reason to fall, indeed,” Alastor muttered, letting the music take over the broadcast again, before he grabbed Lucifer’s arm and pulled him closer. It made Lucifer giggle and link their arms together, before he let his legs rest on top of Alastor’s, much like he’d done the first time he’d joined in on a broadcast and they accidentally empowered the entirety of Hell. “Why did you go back?” Alastor asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Lucifer mumbled and picked at a loose thread on Alastor’s sleeve. He ran his finger over it, letting in mend itself with the rest of the seam. “I mean, I was curious, I guess? I hadn’t been there since the day we fell, and while I knew you probably didn’t want to go back, I wanted to check it out, just to see the difference, I think. It’s not as big as the one I created myself, but that’s more because of the fact that there wasn’t any liquid sulphur or lava. Just solid ground,” Lucifer said.

“And then? Why did you go back, again?” Alastor asked.

Lucifer chuckled quietly. “Well, I did find that stupid hole in the ground,” he replied. “And I forgot to take a picture of it, so I went back.”

“So, you just went there twice in the same day?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer said. “Had a bit of a breakdown while I was there, left, came back for the picture and called it a day. I don’t know if I’ll go back or not.”

Alastor remembered one of the nights Lucifer had held on tighter than normal while they slept. It had woken him up a bit when he felt it, and while he hadn’t minded it, he’d also gotten a little worried about his then-just-partner. He’d never admitted it, of course, and he’d never told Lucifer about him doing it, either. It was just one of those things. It happened from time to time. Bad days, worse nights. If one of them was struggling, the other would comfort. In the beginning, if they both had trouble sleeping, they usually just ended up getting out of bed and doing other things, like reading books or playing a game of chess. Anything to get their minds off of the fall.

“I don’t think I’d like to go back there, yet,” Alastor admitted. “Not that I remember what it looked like, but just the thought of it makes me…” He clenched his hands into fists, trying to get rid of the sudden feeling of falling. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing on the arm curled around his own. The touch felt grounding enough to calm him down.

“You don’t have to,” Lucifer assured him quietly. “I still don’t know for sure why I went back. Morbid curiosity, as I said. Maybe that, or just some stupid shit like feeling like I wanted to face my fears. Make it feel more real, I think? There’s always that thought in the back of my head that tells me I imagined the whole thing, even if I know it happened.” He sighed. “I don’t know if it helped, or if it made it worse, or if it made it worse and then better. It’s hard to say.”

“Maybe it could help me stop feeling like I’m falling every time someone just mentions it?” Alastor thought out loud, making Lucifer hum. “Make me realise I actually landed and that I’m fine?”

Lucifer’s lips wobbled into a poorly hidden smile. “I think we could both use some fucking therapy, to be honest.”

The two of them glanced at each other before they started cackling.

“Yeah, right,” Alastor said and got his microphone back up. “I’d much rather live with this damned nightmare than ‘talk about it’ with some random demon who doesn’t know anything about what it feels like to fall.”

“Maybe one of the fallen would be up for the task?” Lucifer said.

“You,” Alastor said. “I’d only talk to you.” Lucifer huffed, but let his head bump gently into Alastor’s shoulder, showing him that he understood and supported his decision. “Now, Lucifer,” he said into the microphone with a grin. “How are people doing today? I’m sure someone would like to tell us what they’re up to?”

“Well, someone’s enjoying their morning while listening to smooth jazz and two old fucks chattering about nothing in particular and would like them to actually say something of significance instead of whatever bullshit we’ve been spouting until now,” Lucifer informed Alastor and the rest of the people listening. “Quite a few are sharing their sentiment.”

“Sounds like Susan,” Alastor muttered.

“Susan’s at work,” Lucifer retorted and went back to the social media app to see if someone else had commented after they asked them again. “Other than that, we have someone charging up before they’re going out with their friends. Another one is spending the day alone, but it seems they might end up being kidnapped by another gang saying they shouldn’t be alone on a day we’re celebrating those we lost, and those who’re left.”

“Yes, that’s a great idea!” Alastor grinned. “If you know someone’s alone, go ask them if they want to join. It’s not a big deal, is it? And if they say they want to stay by themselves, let them.”

“Free will and all that,” Lucifer piped in, before he smiled. “Well, it might not be of significance, but at least we have another question we can answer. If we weren’t the rulers of Hell, what would we be doing today?”

“I’d probably be celebrating with my friends,” Alastor pondered, tilting his head a little at the question. If none of them were royals, or even if Lucifer wasn’t a royal, he might never have come to Earth that day, and they might’ve never even met. It was a strange thought. “It really depends on if we’d actually meet if you weren’t the devil. If not, I’d most likely never end up at the hotel in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t be married. That’s for sure.”

“What if we met randomly?” Lucifer asked.

“In Hell?”

“Yes?”

Alastor thought about it for a moment. “I think I’d find you infuriatingly annoying,” he admitted.

“Not even a little bit endearing or interesting?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“That depends on who you would be if you weren’t the devil himself,” Alastor said and felt himself cling onto Lucifer’s arm a little tighter. He would like to believe he’d find Lucifer interesting even if he wasn’t the devil. If he was some strange guy who wanted to join him killing people while in Hell, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be as interesting nor shocking as it had been in the middle of the night in New Orleans. No, if Lucifer had done the same thing while they were both in Hell, he would definitely have taken it as some desperate move from someone who admired him as the Radio Demon. It had happened a couple of times that a demon wanted to try and get closer to him, sometimes in a slightly similar way like what Lucifer had done. They never felt like the right person. “Though, the more I think about it, the more I believe you might be the only person I wouldn’t mind having around, no matter how irritating you get.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Well, I do it on purpose,” he muttered, almost like he definitely wasn’t doing it on purpose, or wasn’t sure if he was annoying Alastor by merely existing sometimes. And of course, sometimes, when his husband got the worst ideas possible, he was incredibly irritating to deal with. However, Alastor would never switch him out for someone else. Lucifer’s awkwardness was a part of his charm in many ways, and while he did things that sometimes annoyed him, the rest of it—the most of it, was just sweet or impressive enough to keep it interesting. Alastor loved him for a reason, and while Lucifer probably had a few times where he doubted that he did (since, let’s be real, Alastor wasn’t always the best at showing how much he enjoyed having him around), he would rather end up gushing to him about his love for him rather than lose him for something as stupid as Lucifer wondering if he loved him or not.

“I know you do,” Alastor decided to say. “Where do you think you’d be if you weren’t the King of Hell?”

“That’s actually a really good question,” Lucifer replied, looking relieved to change the subject. “To be honest, I’d either still be in Heaven, or maybe sitting around in Hell doing whatever the fuck I wanted. No matter how I twist it, I think I’d end up high up in the hierarchy just because of my status before I fell.” He paused, tilting his head from side to side. “What I want to do and what I’d actually do are also most likely widely different from each other.”

“Feeding the birds in one of the parks?” Alastor inquired lightly.

“That’s what I’d like to do, yeah,” Lucifer admitted. “What I’d actually do? Well, either hunt down people for fun—actually, maybe I’d end up joining some assassins. That would’ve been fun.” He grimaced. “Don’t try and assassinate us today, guys,” he said. “Like, really. We just had an attempt on one of our lives, and I’d rather not have to deal with that shit again.”

“What in the world are you talking about you having to deal with it?” Alastor scoffed, thinking back to just a few weeks prior where he’d ended up getting poisoned by an assassin during a dinner at Andrealphus’ palace. “You’re not the one who was literally throwing up your own gut.”

“Well, I got worried,” Lucifer mumbled with a shrug. “And as for today, I feel like people should leave us alone a bit, given how much we’ve done for them.” He glanced at his phone. “That’s another question, actually.” He glanced at Alastor with a slight smirk. “Why don’t you tell us how you ended the war? Apparently, people only know you did it, not so much how you did it.”

“I’d rather not go into details on that one,” Alastor grumbled, feeling the phantom pain of the sword going in through his back and out through his stomach, before seeing it plunge straight into Lucifer’s heart. Well, he hadn’t really seen when it went into his partner, but he’d seen it just moments before Lucifer lost the fight against the blood loss and his damaged heart, slumping forward into Alastor’s arms while Sera told him she’d done the right thing by killing him. The rage he’d felt in that moment had blinded him to the pain, making him able to overpower the seraph and end her life. “Sera killed you. I killed her. Then I died myself.”

“And then we took a nosedive into Hell,” Lucifer commented. “A second fall for me.”

“A second death for me,” Alastor muttered. “Not that I remember much of the first one. The second one was much worse.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to worry about a third,” Lucifer grumbled, clearly a warning to whatever assassins were out and about in the city that day, and who were planning to take a shot at killing them, again. “Seriously, guys. I mean it. If I see a fucking bullet coming towards one of us today, I’m killing you. Immediately and without warning. You’ll cease to exist in the blink of an eye. If you don’t believe me, fuck around and find out.”

“I’ve seen him do it,” Alastor said, hoping that it would make people think Lucifer would actually kill someone completely like that. And, well, the more Alastor thought about it, he didn’t know if Lucifer actually had that sort of power, or if his husband was faking it. The way Lucifer glanced up at him like he wasn’t kidding, however, made a round of reverence wash through him. “It’s quite impressive,” he added, seeing the smirk stretch across Lucifer’s face.

“Of course, some of you don’t actually care if you die for your cause or whatever, but death is but a gentle punishment when you’re trying to assassinate one of the royals,” Lucifer continued. “Don’t make me go for something less pleasant.”

“I think I’d prefer that one, actually,” Alastor admitted, knowing they still had the damned assassin that tried to take him out, still on the loose. He let his music take over once again and checked the clock on the wall behind the two of them. It was getting closer to the middle of the show, and while he wanted to keep broadcasting for much longer, he also knew they had quite a few things to do to get ready for the parade. “Did you finish the masks?” he asked Lucifer.

“Finished them, added glitter—”

“You didn’t.”

“—I didn’t. And then I tried to figure out which one of us should have what ribbons, and I decided red would look best on you, since you don’t actually have that much red on your uniform, and I got black for mine, since that goes with my boots.” He wiggled his feet where they rested on Alastor’s legs. The black boots looked newly polished like they always did. “They look pretty nice, if I do say so myself.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Alastor said, knowing the two of them would probably stand out from the rest. They already did, but his husband was a stickler for being over-the-top when he could, which was equally as fun as it was embarrassing in some instances. “How’s our gameplan, then?”

“Well, as I said, we’ll just finish up here and go straight back to the palace, change, and then Nix will drive us to the beginning of the parade,” Lucifer said, tapping his toes together thoughtfully. “We’ll be quite far in the back, but not last. I don’t know anything about this sort of thing, so I just said yes to whatever Charlie and the rest told us to do.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Alastor muttered. “And then you’re going on that tour after you’ve finished opening the concert?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said with a nod. “Hopefully, it won’t take too long. Did you want to join me?”

“If Charlie asked me to help her out with the hotel, I think I’ll stay with her,” Alastor replied. “You can just come and get me when you’re back, and we’ll have that dinner.”

“Sure.” Lucifer smiled sweetly up at him. “I’m looking forward to dancing with you, today.”

“It’s only been a few days since last time,” Alastor huffed.

“Yeah, but properly,” Lucifer argued. “Don’t get me wrong, I love slow-dancing in the bayou, but there’s something about just putting on a proper show, you know? And you make it extra fun. I don’t know why.”

“Because I’m your designated dance partner,” Alastor said with a grin.

“Or you’re just a good dancer,” Lucifer retorted.

“So, you would place me on the sideline if I wasn’t?” Lucifer pursed his lips, making Alastor snicker. He got his legs off of the desk, letting Lucifer’s legs fall to the floor, too, before he grabbed his husband’s arm and gave him a twirl on the chair, matching the music. “Somehow, I feel like you would have fun trying to teach me if I were horrible at it,” he said as he took Lucifer’s hands and pulled him with him as he pushed away from the desk. Lucifer giggled as Alastor brought him around in a circle.

“You’re going to pull me out of my chair,” Lucifer snickered and tucked his legs around the chair cylinder.  

“And what if I do?” Alastor asked, making Lucifer’s eyes widen slightly and stare at him. Alastor kept spinning him around him. Their eyes were still locked onto each other. Lucifer’s eyes flittered over Alastor’s features.

“What if you do?” Lucifer echoed, making Alastor huff and bring him closer until their knees were sitting flush against each other.

Alastor leaned forward in is seat. Lucifer did the same. The chairs slowed to a stop.

“You’d stumble and fall, most likely,” Alastor murmured at his husband.

“Are you sure about that?” Lucifer rasped, eyes flickering down to Alastor’s lips and back up to his eyes.

Alastor grinned smugly. “I’d make sure of it.”

“Would you, really?” Lucifer smirked, leaning closer.

“Oh, absolutely,” Alastor muttered, letting a couple of his shadows slither up and around the office chair Lucifer was sitting on. “It would be quite easy, actually,” he added when he only had to move slightly forward to press their lips together.

“I’d drag you with me.” The way Lucifer said it made it sound like a warning, which it probably was.

“Good luck with that,” Alastor retorted, tipping Lucifer’s chair over.

He was supposed to go intangible and let Lucifer fall whenever his husband tried to grab onto him. However, somehow, Lucifer managed to grab onto his shoulder anyway, and clung onto his literal essence and tugged him with him down to the floor. It wasn’t that big of a fall, but the shock of Lucifer actually being able to just clutch onto him when Alastor shouldn’t be touchable, made him forget to brace himself for the impact and smack right down onto ground with a hard thud.

Lucifer giggled. Alastor didn’t as he pushed himself up on his elbows. He stared down at Lucifer beside him, who just gave him a cheeky smile and reached up and booped his nose.

“Told you I’d bring you with me down if you tried,” Lucifer said, the smug smirk back on his lips.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Alastor admitted, still feeling a little shocked. He saw Lucifer sit up beside him and get to his feet. “Have you always been able to do that?” he asked and took the hand Lucifer offered him, letting him help him back up.

“Always,” Lucifer confirmed, grabbed Alastor’s chair and rolled it over to him, before he got his own and sat down in it, scooting back over to the desk. “No demon can escape me. Not if I don’t want them to.”

Alastor hummed and pushed his chair over to the desk. “I guess I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he muttered thoughtfully, once again wondering what else his husband could do that he hadn’t told him about. He sat down carefully in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, sending Lucifer a couple of glances. Lucifer was looking at him with a slightly dreamy grin where he was leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his head in his hand. “What?”

“Stab for a kiss?” Lucifer offered, blinking sluggishly.

Alastor stared at him, before he huffed and uncrossed his legs, rolled a little closer to Lucifer and curled a finger under his chin. “Masochist,” he scoffed and pressed their lips together in a short, but sweet kiss.

“That’s your fault,” Lucifer muttered against him.

Alastor huffed. “How is it my fault?”

“Classical conditioning,” Lucifer said.

Alastor rolled his eyes and moved the hand under Lucifer’s chin so he was squeezing his cheeks with his thumb and index finger. “I haven’t stabbed you nearly enough to make you like being stabbed.”

“No, but whenever you do stab me, there’s usually something worth it that follows,” Lucifer said, voice slightly distorted by how Alastor was still pushing his cheeks in. “Gives me something to look forward to.”

“I usually kiss you first,” Alastor pointed out. “Technically, I’d condition you to hate kissing me by stabbing you afterwards.”

“Then I guess I just love kissing you too much to care about the stabs,” Lucifer retorted with a dorky grin that looked extra ridiculous with the squished cheeks. “You’ve been looping the same melody for the past two minutes, by the way,” Lucifer informed him, grin turning mischievous.

Alastor’s eyes widened as he remembered that he was doing an anniversary broadcast. He got his microphone, hit Lucifer between the eyes with it and cleared his throat. Lucifer snickered and got his phone as they continued their show.

The second half went pretty well. They got new questions, better questions and more people sending them small updates on what they were doing and how they were going to spend the day. A lot of them were going to join the parade, which meant it would be quite the crowd, which again made Alastor look forward to seeing all the different masks and costumes the different parade-goers were going to wear. He told his listeners about his curiosity, and soon after, a few of them sent them a few pictures of themselves and their friends all dressed up, or half-dressed (or not dressed at all, which Alastor would never be able to unsee), and of the already gathering groups of people in the city. It would be a proper party, that day. The demons of Hell would make certain of it, and Lucifer and Alastor would try their best to kick it off with a bang. Or a song.

“We’ve got one more song left before wrapping up this anniversary broadcast,” Alastor announced. Lucifer grinned at him before he started humming a quiet melody. Alastor could almost feel the energy from it, knowing exactly what would happen once he got the microphone. He wouldn’t experience it himself, of course, but now that he knew it happened, he’d managed to pick up on the way his heart beat slightly faster. In the beginning, he’d waved it off as nothing but enjoying his husband’s voice, but now he knew it might possibly be himself getting a smidge of empowerment. “We’ll see you out there in the streets,” Alastor said. “Enjoy the show.”

He handed the microphone to Lucifer, who took it and started to hum a little louder. Alastor let his own melody mix with his husband’s drawl. A guitar joined in and Lucifer met Alastor’s gaze with a sly smile.

“I can’t take no more of this,” Lucifer sang. “This nightmare has to end.”  Alastor grinned a little wider as he got to his feet, getting ready to end the broadcast whenever his husband was done with his song. “In this godforsaken place, death would be a welcome friend.”

Alastor leaned on the back of his chair, watching as Lucifer got up from his seat.

“I could pay a crooked guard to kill me, yeah that’s it,” Lucifer sang. “Better that than ten-thousand years, dying slowly bit by bit.”

“All I did was air a few thoughts,”

“Justice here don’t fit the crime,”

“I’ve been broken by the devil,”

“Justice is a waste of time.”

Lucifer met his eyes, a mischievous glint in his eye as he held his hand out for Alastor to take. Alastor did and expected his husband to pull him into a dance, but was quite surprised when Lucifer just gave his hand a squeeze and kept holding it.

“I won’t get to Heaven,” Lucifer sang, before his voice softened. “Why not raise a little Hell?”

Alastor huffed and placed his chin on his free arm where it rested on his chair. The music surged, riffing and getting more forceful as Lucifer’s expression turned more serious. He glanced upwards to the sky where the pentagram hung quietly.

“He’ll see me, but it’s the last time, that filthy scum has got to go” he sang, making Alastor wonder if he was talking about his father or his fight with Michael. The other archangel wasn’t dead like Sera. His body had been picked up after Lucifer broke his neck by the heavenly guards and placed in a holding cell in Heaven. Alastor knew Lucifer wanted to kill him if he got the chance. “By tonight, it will be over, when I strike the final blow.”

Of course, Alastor thought, it could also be just him singing about his fight with Michael during the war. It was difficult to tell. That didn’t change the fact that Lucifer was likely to end up going for an actual final blow if he met Michael again one day. There was a big possibility, at least. The archangel’s soul should be in Limbo, just like Vox’ was (or more like ‘had been’, since Vox was currently stuck in an area outside of regular Limbo with his body. He would remember every second of it).

“No way out, I gotta do this,” Lucifer continued with a slightly more deranged look in his eye. Maybe he was imagining his next meeting with his brother? “Him or me, okay, let’s play.” He glanced at Alastor. “Never killed, but now I have to.” He grinned. “Time to make my brother pay.” He closed his eyes. “I won’t get to Heaven, why not raise a little Hell.” He took a deep breath before he belted out the last line. “No way I’ll see Heaven, so let’s raise a little Hell.” Lucifer giggled to himself as the music continued on for a moment. “We’ll see you all in a moment,” he finished, handing the microphone back to Alastor, who took it and twirled it between his fingers, letting his shadows bring it into his void.

“I see you have quite a few plans for your brother,” Alastor said after ending his broadcast.

Lucifer shrugged and led him around the chair he’d been leaning on, before he opened a portal back to their room in the palace. “If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him,” he said like it wasn’t a big deal, or as if it wouldn’t be some huge battle between the two of them. Lucifer had won while suffering from severe blood loss, but there was no telling what Michael had planned. “I asked Emily if I could just borrow an angelic sword and end him before he comes back from Limbo, but she thought he might end up regenerating since his essence is somewhere else at the moment.”

“Patience, love,” Alastor said quietly as he stepped through the portal, bringing Lucifer with him. Their two uniforms were placed neatly on the bed, their masks on top of them. “From what you’ve told me, he sounds like he’s one to hold a grudge. You’ll get your chance.”

Lucifer smiled sadly. “Not if he’s protected in a holding cell in Heaven,” he muttered. “No way they’re letting me near him.”

“Well, if you asked Emily if you could kill him, I’m not surprised they won’t let you see him,” Alastor huffed as he gave Lucifer’s hand a quick peck and let go of him, walking over to their clothes. “No glitter,” he said with faux disappointment as he picked up the deer-skull mask. Black antlers poked up from the top of it, making it impossible to wear his crown while he wore the mask. Long, red, silk ribbons were attached on each side of the skull, clearly meant to be used to secure the mask. A small homage to their animal forms as well as the stupid incident with the wood glue.

“I can add it if you want me to,” Lucifer said with a smirk. He moved his own goat-skull mask to the side, so he could get to the jacket below it. He unbuttoned his regular white one and got it off, placing it beside the other before he started on his waistcoat. “I probably should’ve made it compatible with your antlers, but I didn’t have time.”

“Did you make these this morning, too?” Alastor asked as he slipped his shoes off and placed the deer mask on the bed. Lucifer turned his back to him, which was answer enough. “So much for having the morning free,” Alastor scoffed as he started getting changed into his white uniform.

“I’ve been busy,” Lucifer tried.

“With what?” Alastor asked.

Lucifer mumbled something under his breath that Alastor didn’t quite catch, before he cleared his throat and spoke up. “It doesn’t matter,” he assured him. “Well, it does, but it doesn’t matter right in this second, but maybe later today.”

“Did you get me something more than just the record and the flowers?” Alastor inquired curiously as he got his jacket on and buttoned it up.

Lucifer chuckled as he glanced at him over his shoulder. “I’m not telling you,” he said and grabbed his mask. He placed it over his face and secured the black, silk ribbons at the back of his head and pushed the mask up so it rested on top of his head, instead. He smiled and stepped over to Alastor and tied his bowtie. “You’ll see. It might be incredibly underwhelming, but it took some effort.”

“But you got me something?” Alastor asked.

“I got all of Hell something,” Lucifer clarified, patting Alastor’s chest once he’d finished fixing the bowtie.

Alastor huffed and tied Lucifer’s. The familiar feeling of his own, old bowtie between his fingers still made his heart skip a beat knowing his husband was still wearing it, even after all these years. His mind gave him the wonderful thought that Lucifer would most likely wear it to the end of time or for eternity. Whatever came first. It made his grin soften at the edges. Lucifer seemed to notice, given how his own expression grew sweeter.

“I can’t wait to see it,” Alastor said and untangled the fringes on Lucifer’s epaulettes. He took a step away from him and gave his husband a once-over. “You look ready for a carnival, darling.”

“I would hope so,” Lucifer replied and picked up Alastor’s mask and handed it to him. “The parade starts in about half an hour, and since we’re going there by car for no other reason than because we have to make a big deal out of everything, for some reason, I think we should get going,” he muttered while Alastor got his own mask secured over his face. He hoped the silk wouldn’t come undone while they were dancing around.

He paused when he got the mask on. “Is this made from a real deer skull?”

“Of course,” Lucifer said and grabbed his arm, pulling him with him out through another portal and into the courtyard where Nix was waiting for them with his arms behind his back. “We have enough deer skulls lying around from all those damned carcasses you get from Phil.”

“What about yours?” Alastor asked and gave Nix a small nod as he opened the door for them. Lucifer got in first, before Alastor climbed in after him.

“The cult,” Lucifer admitted, making Alastor snort. The cult had ended up being surprisingly useful for their everyday needs and other things. Not that they summoned them too often, but Lucifer had a habit of ‘popping by’ on a few occasions just to get something he needed. Either that, or he sent them a letter on what they needed from them, and he would either go to Earth to get it, or Alastor would bring it back with him whenever he was summoned. “I just fixed them up a bit so they fit our faces a bit better,” Lucifer continued once they were inside the limousine. “Your nose made it more difficult.”

“At least I have a nose,” Alastor muttered, making Lucifer glance at him.

“I wasn’t joking,” he said quietly. “It just makes masks more uncomfortable for you because you have something in the way. Makes me have to carve out more and be more aware of where your nose sits to make it fit right.”

Alastor stared at him. “Oh,” he said. “I don’t know why I said it.” He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I guess I thought you were making fun of it.”

“I love your nose,” Lucifer muttered, lifting his hand to tap Alastor’s nose for a second time that day. He looked a little hesitant as he scanned Alastor’s expression. “Do you want me to have a nose?” he asked, barely audible.

Alastor blinked owlishly at him. “What?”

“A nose,” Lucifer said. “Do you prefer me with a nose?”

Alastor felt like he’d fucked up, somehow. He couldn’t care less about Lucifer’s appearance, technically, even though his husband was probably the most beautiful being in the universe (that wasn’t just husband-talk, but rather a fact that very few people would argue with). He’d met Lucifer with a nose, and his human look had a special place in his heart because it felt nostalgic, but he couldn’t say he preferred it. He didn’t care. He just loved him.

He reached over and grabbed Lucifer by the cheeks and pulled him a little closer, forcing him to brace himself on the seat between them. Alastor stared at him, before he leaned down, careful not to knock their masks off, and kissed him between the eyes where a nose would be if he had one. He pulled away and met his husband’s gaze, feeling like he really had to make whatever he said count, because he’d rather not end up in an argument over something as dumb as appearances.

“You are the most beautiful being I know with or without a nose,” Alastor said seriously as he held his husband’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter if you have a nose or not, because it doesn’t change your utter perfection in the face of every other creature I’ve ever met in my entire existence.” He didn’t know if he was overdoing it a bit, but it had been a while since he really opened up about his love for Lucifer, and given their anniversary—their anniversary of eight years together, he felt like going all-out just to make Lucifer stop worrying for the day at the very least. It wasn’t always easy to try and reassure him, but sometimes, gushing worked wonders. “So, no. I don’t prefer you with a nose. I love you just as much with- or without one. I love you, no matter what you look like.”

Lucifer stared at him. His face flushed with gold. Alastor had definitely overdone it, but it was worth it. His husband looked like he wanted to say something, but instead ended up spluttering out something incomprehensible.

Alastor grinned smugly at him. “What was that?”

Lucifer pursed his lips in flustered annoyance. “Shut up.”

“Sounded like something else,” Alastor said, making Lucifer roll his eyes playfully, before his expression turned more serious and almost a little bashful where he looked up at Alastor through his lashes. There was also a hint of awe behind his eyes, if he wasn’t mistaken. “What did you say, love?”

He felt Lucifer’s hand curl around his bowtie and pull him closer until their lips met. It didn’t surprise Alastor at all, of course, so he fought against the grin that wanted to spread across his lips and instead tilted his head slightly and pulled Lucifer closer towards him, deepening the kiss in the process.

“I love you, too,” Lucifer murmured, lips brushing against the corner of Alastor’s mouth. “And also; I fucking hate you, because nothing I say can ever fucking compare. What the fuck was that?” he hissed, pulling away enough to look him in the eyes. “You can’t just say shit like that and expect me to do anything other than want to just…” he trailed off with a grumble. “I forgot my speech. Thanks.”

“You wrote it down,” Alastor said slyly.

“I didn’t write it down,” Lucifer informed him dryly, and Alastor grimaced, before he narrowed his eyes.

“You didn’t actually write anything, did you?”

“Not a word,” Lucifer said, leaned forward and kissed his cheek, before he pulled out of Alastor’s grip. “I’m going for that song idea, instead, I think. Either that, or I’m winging it on the spot. It can’t be that hard.” Lucifer gave him an unimpressed look. “Except now I’m going to be thinking about you and how much I’d rather just spend time with you, today, instead of going on that fucking tour, and ugh.” He sighed deeply and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m fine. You have things to do at the hotel, and I won’t follow you around like a poodle.”

“You’re not getting separation anxiety, too, are you?” Alastor huffed amusedly.

“Oh, come on,” Lucifer scoffed, smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Look, first of all, I don’t have separation anxiety, nor do I have fucking performance anxiety.” He leaned back against the car door to face Alastor better. “I don’t know. I think with the wedding, and just getting closer to our six-month anniversary and it being like the fucking anniversary day for the war, and us, and dying and our redemption and falling and everything. It’s overwhelming me a bit.” He shrugged and looked down at his hands. “Or, maybe not overwhelming me, per se, but rather just…” He sighed again, glancing up at Alastor. “It’s a special day for us, you know?”

Alastor did know, and he definitely understood the sentiment. Before they got married, this anniversary had been the only celebration they really did. The anniversary for when they got together was coincidentally (or maybe not that coincidentally) on the same day as everything else. It made it an easy date to remember, and in the beginning, they usually ended up spending it mostly by each other’s side. The first anniversary had been quite an awful one if you took into consideration that they were still getting over the pain from the fall, while also dealing with the nightmares and the pressure of trying to get Hell back to normal and trying to figure out the connection between the two realms and so on. Now that the realm was doing better than ever, demons were getting ready to celebrate properly, and they had more things to do during the anniversary, it felt like they didn’t have that same chance at staying together like they had.

And of course, as Lucifer mentioned, the fact that they were married, now, also made it extra special. Alastor felt it, too, but he usually didn’t have too much trouble ignoring his urge to pick up his husband and bring him somewhere private where they could do whatever the hell they wanted without people nagging them about whatever problems they had, or what could’ve been done differently when it came to certain things, or just someone straight up thinking that yelling at the two of them would fix something.

So yes, Alastor knew exactly what Lucifer was referring to, and he was definitively thinking the same thing.

“I don’t know,” Lucifer continued quietly. “You have this thing where you can just say something and all I want to do is stay with you. Especially when I have to face a bunch of strangers and talk to them and hope they fucking respond to me somewhat positively.” He tilted his head in contemplation, glancing up at Alastor, again. “You’re safe. You know me. You enjoy my company.” He paused with a cheeky smile. “At least, I hope you enjoy my company.” Alastor raised an eyebrow at him, making Lucifer chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Alastor sighed and placed his hand on the seat between them, palm up. Lucifer gave him a gentle smile and reached over, taking Alastor’s hand.

“We’ll mostly celebrate together, today, anyway, won’t we?” he asked. “You just have that tour, and it won’t take more than a couple of hours, and I’ll be helping Charlie with the hotel in the meantime.” He squeezed Lucifer’s hand. “We’ll be with each other for the rest of it.”

“Yeah,” Lucifer agreed. “It’ll be fun. We’ll be in the procession and have a bit of a performance, and then I’ll start the concert with a song.” He grinned. “You’re singing with me, right?”

“I’d steal the show, darling,” Alastor said with a grin.

“Maybe I want you to?” Lucifer grinned back.

“Sirs?” Nix said from up front, making the two of them look at the little hatch in the wall leading to the driver’s compartment. They could see Nix’s eyes peeking through. “Terribly sorry to interrupt, but we’ve been standing here for ten minutes.”

“What?” Lucifer asked, before he turned to look out of the window at the crowd outside. “Oh fuck.”

“What time is it?” Alastor asked Nix, who checked his watch.

“Twelve,” the imp informed him, making Lucifer and Alastor grimace. The procession was supposed to start right at that moment, and they’d been sitting there lost in their own little world. “Vaggie has been standing outside the limousine for a while, waiting for you.”

“Shit,” Lucifer said, climbing over Alastor, much to Alastor’s dismay. He pushed a button on the door and let the window slowly lower itself and reveal a quite pissed-off-looking Vaggie outside. “Hi, Vaggie,” Lucifer greeted her.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Vaggie grumbled, “what the fuck.”

“We were having a moment,” Lucifer explained, making Alastor scoff. “Sorry. Where do you need us to be? We can make this a bit more dramatic if you want us to.” Alastor glanced at the people standing around, waiting for them. There were quite a lot of cameras, and the demons were trying to look past Vaggie and into the limousine.

“Second to last float,” Vaggie said. “We’ll create a path for you if you want to give them a show.” She sighed in a way that told Alastor that she was moments away from quitting her job as the parade manager, and turned to someone else in the crowd, telling them to give some space for the royals, before she turned back to the two of them. “The floats will start moving when you give me the signal,” she told Lucifer, who gave her a quick nod and moved back out of where he’d more or less been sitting in Alastor’s lap, letting Alastor get the window back up.

“How do you want to do this?” Lucifer asked him.

Alastor chuckled darkly and let his powers surge. Black and green smoke filled the limousine as he grinned and pulled his mask over his face. Lucifer mirrored his grin and pulled his own mask down, music filling the air around them. Alastor let it boom outside of the vehicle, even using some of Lucifer’s powers to make it sound cleaner than his usual, more static-filled sound. He used his shadows to slam the door open, the smoke spilling out of the car. He kept the inside of the limousine bathed in darkness as he got his legs out and stood, letting himself emerge from the shadows. He placed his hands behind his back and took a small step to the side to give room for Lucifer, who stepped out beside him. Alastor could almost hear the demons around them wonder if they’d ended up ripping their faces off, again, but soon they seemed to recognise their masks.

The music continued to play over the crowd, picking up in intensity as they started moving towards the path between the demons. A few security guards were keeping the demons away from them as they walked over towards the second-to-last float in the procession.

Alastor looked around at the demons and noticed how most of them were also wearing masks or wearing face paint and costumes, making him think that the idea of making this a carnival had been a great idea. The demons had clearly engaged with it, at least. It made him think of the Mardi Gras parades back in New Orleans when he was alive. It made him grin to himself as he saw the excited looks on the people around him. Demons loved a good party, and this one spread through the entirety of Hell. It was bound to be well-received.

A couple of kids waved at them. Lucifer waved back, before he grabbed onto Alastor’s arm and brought him into a small dance as they got closer to the float they were going to be using.

It had clearly been designed for the two of them, given the mix of circus décor and more voodoo-inspired details. The golden and red frame with black deer antlers and red apples surrounded the entire float. Green flames burned around it, which would make them look extra eery as they moved around behind them.  

The crowd cheered as they got up onto the float, Lucifer continuing their little dance as the people on the other floats hurried to get ready for their own little numbers. Alastor grinned as he brought Lucifer into a spin, changing the music to something more dramatic and almost gallop-like as he dipped his husband low. He could see Lucifer grin under the mask before starting to sing.

“As a child, you would wait and watch from far away,”

“But you always knew that you’d be the one,”

“To work while they all play.”  

Alastor brought him back up and into a twirl before he let go of him. Lucifer kept going.

“In youth, you’d lay awake at night and scheme,”

“Of all the things that you would change,”

“But it was just a dream.”

The crowd watched them intently. Lucifer met Alastor’s eye through the mask, and Alastor felt the song wash through him, making him know the lyrics like he’d heard it a million times before. He knew the rest of the demons around them knew it, too.

“Here we are, don’t turn away now,” the crowd sang. Lucifer added a small “don’t turn away.” A chill went down Alastor’s spine at the sound of it. All of them. Every single demon attending the parade joined in. He had a feeling Lucifer’s voice spread through the entirety of Hell and that all the demons in the realm sang together. That’s what it felt like, at least. It took Alastor’s breath away.

“We are the warriors that built this town,”

“Here we are, don’t turn away now,”

“We are the warriors that built this town.”

“From dust,” Lucifer took over again, giving Vaggie a nod. The floats started moving and Lucifer turned his attention back to Alastor. He stepped over to him and let Alastor grab him by the waist and swing him around until they were standing chest to chest. “The time will come when you’ll have to rise,” Lucifer continued to sing. “Above the rest, and prove yourself, your spirit never dies.” Alastor brought them around, using his own powers to make the flames swirl with them. “Farewell, I’ve gone to take my throne above, but don’t weep for me, ‘cause this will be the labour of my love.”

Alastor felt another rush of energy pulse through the crowd they were passing as they once again joined in on the chorus.

“Here we are, don’t turn away now,” all of Hell sang. Lucifer once again joined in with a small “don’t turn away!”

“We are the warriors that built this town,”

“Here we are, don’t turn away now,”

“We are the warriors that built this town.”

“From dust,” Lucifer sang, letting Alastor lead him around in their little dance as the sound of a guitar took over. Lucifer giggled when he heard some demons start singing along to the melody, and Alastor caught himself staring at his husband where he was more or less hanging in his arms. The grin halfway hidden behind the mask, the excitement in his eyes, the way they sparkled in the light from the green fire that surrounded them… It had been a while since Alastor felt overwhelmed by his emotions, but at that moment, with his heart hammering in his chest and the crowd humming along to the melody of Lucifer’s song, Alastor was seconds away from stabbing him. The urge to do it was getting intense as the crowd and Lucifer sang the last verse.

“Here we are, don’t turn away now,”

“We are the warriors who built this town,”

Alastor decided he needed to put a little space between them, grabbing Lucifer by the hands instead, twirled him around, brought him closer for just a moment and then out again. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind, just enjoying being flung around on top of the float.

“Here we are, don’t turn away now,”

“We are the warriors who built this town,”

“From dust!” the crowd yelled out.

Alastor let go of Lucifer, who ended up with his hands in the air as the demons around them cheered. Alastor stood behind his husband, feeling the worst of the energy die down and the intensity of his emotions dwindle into something manageable. He needed a moment to calm down, so while Lucifer waved at the crowed and yelled at them that they were all fantastic, Alastor stepped to the other side of the float and watched the demons they passed, instead, waving at them and letting his shadows bubble up behind him, creating something of a shadow puppet show of the battle between himself and Sera. Lucifer glanced at the display and a moment later, golden light joined the show, taking over for where Sera had once been part of the shadows. The shadow battle looked more intense than Alastor remembered it, but the two of them were playing it up a bit extra.

Lucifer’s eyes were locked onto Alastor instead of the fight. The space between them probably told him that Alastor needed a moment, so he didn’t step any closer. His husband turned back to the crowd as if to check how they enjoyed the show, before he made Sera bigger. Alastor did the same to his own shadow, letting more people see what was going on.

The shadow and light swirled around each other as the procession moved through the central ring in the city. They were driving around the area that had been levelled to the ground during the war. The street where Lucifer and Alastor had first ended up fighting Sera and Michael, before the fight had moved farther out to the edges of the city. The street was filled with people, which meant the area outside the new embassy where the concert would be held was likely to be even more crowded. The floats were going to end up as the stage, with the royal one being the main one.

The swordfight between the two puppets escalated, and Alastor gave Lucifer a small nod before the two shapes rushed into the crowd and started moving through the street ahead of them. The seraph shot over the demons, making them squeal in both horror and delight, while the shadow slipped below them. The light tried to tab at the shadow, only for the shadow to jump out and try and slice at it. The light dodged out of its way as it jumped straight into the shadows at the other side of the street, before the two once again started chasing each other.

Alastor took a deep breath before he stepped over to his husband while their puppets kept up their fight, blasting past them at high speeds. The seraph flew high above them, while the crowd continued to cheer on the shadow.

“Might be a bit too much,” Lucifer said as he got the light to dive back down towards the demons below. “Untasteful at least.”

“They’re demons,” Alastor pointed out as his shadow blocked an incoming swing from the seraph. It looked like it was protecting the crowd below it. “They’re loving it,” he said, gesturing to where the demons were still cheering on the shadow, chanting and squealing as the seraph continued its attack.

“You’re probably right,” Lucifer muttered as the shadow cut off one of the seraph’s wings, making it explode into glorious fireworks before the battle continued. The crowd went wild.

“I usually am,” Alastor huffed, before he glanced down at Lucifer. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucifer assured him. “I’d rather not get stabbed in public,” he muttered and looked up at him. “Are you feeling better, now, or…?”

“Much,” Alastor said, holding his hand out for him. Lucifer took it hesitantly. “I just needed a moment to deal with it.”

“I owe you, like, at least two stabs, now, don’t I?” Lucifer asked cheekily and let Alastor pull him with him into another dance. The music was still going strong around them, turning into something much more powerful and dramatic as the two puppets fought against each other. They passed them again. The wind they created made their clothes flutter.

“Just one,” Alastor said, watching as the crowd seemed to jump up as they tried to catch the golden light from the seraph flying above them. “I still don’t mind kissing you, but as you said…” he trailed off and tilted his head a little. “This day feels overwhelming to me, too.”

“Oh,” Lucifer said, letting Alastor lead him into something much closer to a slow tango. It wasn’t something they usually danced, but it was a fun change of pace. “Maybe it’s a good thing to have a bit of a break in the middle of the day, then?”

Alastor chuckled, ducking a little as the seraph swooped down from above. He could feel the energy from it like rain hitting his skin during a rainstorm.

“Probably,” he told him. “But I wouldn’t mind joining you on that tour, either. There’s just a lot of emotions associated with this day.” He sighed and leaned down until the noses on their masks touched. “Being surrounded by strangers doesn’t help.”

“I know what you mean,” Lucifer said. “I promise you, though,” he started as Alastor spun him around and pulled him along for a couple of steps, “the rest of this day will be just the two of us. After the dinner, at least.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Alastor said, feeling the relief of knowing he wouldn’t have to deal with the public for too much longer. While he didn’t want to admit it, the sight of Lucifer’s light puppet made him feel a bit uneasy, especially given that he hadn’t seen Sera since right before he died. Lucifer seemed to pick up on it, and let his puppet stumble enough for the shadow to get the upper hand. Another wing exploded. The crowd cheered. “Are you going to sing another song before we reach the end of the procession?”

“Do you want me to sing another one?” Lucifer asked mischievously, the music around them changing again. It caught the crowd’s attention, anticipation once again spreading through the celebrating demons with the galloping violins and beating drums. The two puppets paused, looking towards the float. Lucifer got out of Alastor’s hold and faced them. “Put on your warpaint,” Lucifer sang, the drums and violins getting louder.

The shadow faced the struggling light, preparing its sword. The crowd went quiet as they watched.

“You are a brick tied to me that’s dragging me down,” Lucifer continued as the shadow spun its sword expertly. “Strike a match and I’ll burn you to the ground.” The seraph beat it’s remaining four wings, bringing it higher up in the sky. “We are the jack-o-lanterns in July setting fire to the sky.” Alastor glanced up in time to see flames flare across the sky above them. The pentagram hanging above the city caught fire. He looked at Lucifer, just to reassure himself that it was his doing and not something they should be worried about. The crowd gasped, too. Lucifer kept going. “Here, here comes the rising tide, so come on!”

It reassured Alastor that it was, in fact, his husband’s doing.

“Put on your warpaint,” Lucifer sang. The seraph started to circle the shadow. They moved with the procession. “Cross walks and crossed hearts and hope-to-dies, silver clouds with grey linings.” The shadow turned with the angel, never letting it get behind it. The music lulled. It felt like the calm before the storm. “So we can take the world back from a heart attack,” Lucifer sang gently. Alastor could hear the smile in his voice. “One maniac at the time we will take it back.” The music started building. “You know time crawls on when you’re waiting for the song to start, so dance alone to the beat of your heart!”

Shadow and light clashed together as the crowd yelled out, “Hey young blood, doesn’t it feel like our time is running out?” The seraph shined brighter and swung its sword down on the shadow. The shadow blocked the incoming blow, only for the angel to kick it down. “I’m gonna change you like a remix, then I’ll raise you like a phoenix,” the crows sang as the shadow slipped under the crowd and shot up behind the angel, striking at another wing. It exploded like the previous two. “Wearing our vintage misery, no, I think it looked a little better on me.” The angel swung at the shadow. The shadow barely managed to get out of the way. “I’m gonna change you like a remix, then I’ll raise you like a phoenix!”

The two puppets kept fighting as Lucifer moved closer to Alastor, offering him his hand. “Bring home the boys and scrap scrap metal the tanks,” Lucifer took over from the crowd. “Get hitched, make a career out of robbing banks, because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks.” Alastor took his hand, letting Lucifer lead him for a change. “’You broke our spirit,’ says the note we pass.”

“So we can take the world back from a heart attack,” Alastor sang softly.

“One maniac at the time we will take it back,” Lucifer continued for him, beaming up at him. Alastor could barely see it behind the mask.

“You know time crawls on when you’re waiting for the song to start, so dance alone to the beat of your heart!” he belted out, making Lucifer laugh excitedly.

“Hey young blood, doesn’t it feel like our time is running out?” the crowd took over, making the two of them jump at the intensity of it. “I’m gonna change you like a remix, then I’ll raise you like a phoenix.” Alastor focused back on the fight still going on around them. The shadow had ended up on one of the rooftops, walking backwards as the angel continuously brought its sword down upon it. “Wearing our vintage misery, no, I think it looked a little better on me.” The shadow stepped out of the way from one of the angel’s strikes and kicked it in the side, sending it straight into one of the buildings. Lucifer made sure to make bricks and debris fly in every direction from the impact, as if the angel went straight through the building. “I’m gonna change you like a remix, then I’ll raise you like a phoenix!”

“Put on your warpaint!” Lucifer sang, the angel getting back up and the music calming, again.

“The war is won, before it’s begun,” Alastor sang, making Lucifer glance at him. The shadow got ready for another round. They were getting closer to the last corner. He could see the rest of the floats start to turn down into the street leading into the area around the embassy. “Release the doves, surrender love.”

“The war is won, before it’s begun,” Lucifer echoed as the angel finally got ready for the last part of the song. “Release the doves, surrender love.”

“The war is won, before it’s begun,” Alastor sang, again. “Release the doves, surrender love.”

“The war is won,” they sang together, “before it’s begun. Release the doves, surrender love,” they belted, the crowd cheering with them as they got ready for the last chorus. The two puppets raised their swords and launched at each other.

“Hey young blood, doesn’t it feel like our time is running out?” the crowd screamed out as the light seemed to get the upper hand for a moment. “I’m gonna change you like a remix, then I’ll raise you like a phoenix.” The shadow slipped under the light’s sword as it swiped at it, giving it a perfect opportunity to cut of another wing. “Wearing our vintage misery, no, I think it looked a little better on me,” they continued to sing, another wing exploding. The angel blocked the next attack. It leaned on one of the buildings as the last few floats of the procession turned the corner. “I’m gonna change you like a remix—” the shadow jumped into the air, sword pointing down at the angel, “—then I’ll raise you like a phoenix!”

The sword hit the angel’s chest.

“Put on your war paint!” Lucifer finished the song. The music stopped abruptly as the seraphim burst into fireworks that shot up into the sky. The shadow raised its weapon in a victory pose as the crowd cheered excitedly, applauding and letting out victorious woops and laughs.

Alastor grinned as he let his shadow swoop down into the crowd and return to him as he looked around them at the massive assembly that had gathered outside of the embassy. The rest of the floats had already been assembled into the other parts of the main stage of the concert, leaving only the float the two of them were standing on and the last one, which was just an extra platform for the artists to get closer to the crowd.

The two of them waited patiently as the float got turned sideways and pushed into place. The last piece of the stage got secured to the rest of it, and a succubus hurried over to them with a microphone.

“He’ll use mine,” Alastor informed her, letting his own microphone spawn. He twirled it a couple of times and handed it over to Lucifer, who took it and grinned at him before he started walking towards the smaller platform. Alastor stayed on the main stage, folding his arms behind his back as he watched his husband’s back. He let his eyes scan over the crowd, just in case someone decided it would be the perfect opportunity to take down the king.

“Hey,” Lucifer said into the microphone. The sound screeched and whined, making the demons in the crowd wince and cover their ears. Lucifer turned around to glare at Alastor, who grinned innocently back at him. Lucifer gave him the middle finger before he turned back to the crowd. “Sorry,” he told the audience and cleared his throat. “My husband’s being an ass.” Alastor snickered quietly to himself. “How’s everyone doing?”

The crowd cheered. Someone whistled. The overall energy-level was high, most likely a good mix between just having gotten empowered by the King of Hell, as well as the excitement for the celebration and the concert in itself.

“Well, that’s awesome!” Lucifer said. “I’m gonna do a speech for you guys.” He snorted. “Just kidding. I’ve got nothing. Not. A. Thing.” The demons glanced at each other in confusion. “I think you’ve all got something for me, though, don’t you?” The crowd seemed even more confused. “It’s a concert, isn’t it? Why don’t you start me off, and I’ll give you all one more energy boost to last you through the rest of the month?”

Alastor felt another round of clarity as he heard a hum go through the crowd. It made him huff as he watched his husband jump excitedly on the spot and glance over his shoulder at him like he wanted Alastor to share in his giddiness.

“Tonight, we are victorious,” the crowd sang, clapping the beat. “Champagne pouring over us, all my friends were glorious, tonight we are victorious!”

The music blasted out from the scene, making the crowd cheer as Lucifer took over the song.

“Double bubble disco queen,”

“Headed to the guillotine,”

“Skin as cool as Steve McQueen,”

“Let me be your killer king.”

“It hurts until it stops,”

“We will love until it’s not,”

“I’m a killing spree in white,”

“Eyes like broken Christmas lights.”

Alastor watched the horns on Lucifer’s mask grow and shape themselves into something that looked much more like his real horns. A flame settled between them as his halo snaked its way up one of the horns and curled around it. His eyes were burning bright, making it look like the eyes on the mask were glowing.

“My touch is black and poisonous,” Lucifer continued to sing. “And nothing like my punch-drunk kiss, I know you need it, do you feel it, drink the water, drink the wine!” He turned to look at Alastor, again. “Oh, we gotta turn up the crazy,” he sang to him. “Livin’ like a washed-up celebrity, shooting fireworks like it’s the fourth of July.”

Fireworks shot up from behind the stage making the crowd roar. The glittering light from the explosion shaped itself into a flock of angels. They swooped and dove down over the crowd, who seemed far from worried as they watched their shadows rise up from below as if they were going to fight off the attack, much like the big shadow had done during the procession.

“Until we feel alright,” Lucifer yelled out. “Until we feel alright!”

Alastor almost jumped a little as Lucifer teleported over to him. He offered him his hand, and Alastor took it, feeling himself be pulled along down onto the little platform in the front of the main stage.

“I’m like a scarf trick,” Lucifer sang. “It’s all up the sleeve.” The shadows continued to fight the light barrelling down into the crowd making them scream. None of them were getting hit, of course. The puppets weren’t solid other than feeling like crackling sparks against your skin if they hit you. Pure energy tended to do that. “I taste the magic, waves that swallow quick and deep.” Lucifer intertwined their fingers and glanced up at him. “Throw the bait, catch the shark, bleed the water red,” he sang, tilting his head slightly, as if he wanted Alastor to join him. “Fifty words for murder, and I’m every one of them.”

“My touch is black and poisonous,” Alastor joined in, feeling Lucifer squeeze his hand excitedly. “And nothing like my punch-drunk kiss, I know you need it, do you feel it, drink the water, drink the wine!”

“Oh, we gotta turn up the crazy,” Lucifer sang.

“Living like a washed-up celebrity,” Alastor took over as he took a step closer.

“Shooting fireworks like it’s the fourth of July,” Lucifer sang as the angels still swooping above the crowd all exploded into what looked like artificial fireflies floating like waves above them.

“Tonight, we are victorious,” the crowd chanted. “Champagne pouring over us, all my friends were glorious, tonight we are victorious.” Lucifer pushed his mask up so he could look at Alastor properly, beaming up at him like he was having the thrill of his life with the sound of all of Hell joining in on the song. “Tonight, we are victorious,” the crowd repeated as Alastor pushed up his own mask. “Champagne pouring over us, all my friends were glorious, tonight we are victorious.”

“Oh, we gotta turn up the crazy,” Lucifer sang, pulling Alastor a little closer. “Living like a washed-up celebrity, shooting fireworks like it’s the fourth of July.” Another round of regular fireworks shot up from the stage, whistling and fizzling as they blasted up into the air. They didn’t explode, instead continuing up towards the burning pentagram hanging above the Pride Ring. “Until we feel alright,” Lucifer continued. “Until we feel alright!”

“Tonight, we are victorious,” the crowd sang. “Champagne pouring over us.” The fireworks continued up toward the pentagram. “All my friends were glorious.” The fireworks hit the pentagram. “Tonight, we are victorious!”

The crowd roared as the fireworks exploded. The pentagram flared a bright gold. Golden glitter rained down over the entire ring as the celebration continued. Alastor grinned down at his husband, twirled him around and brought him into a hug. Lucifer giggled and hugged him back while the crowd continued to cheer. The two of them waved at them as they made their way back to the main stage and towards the back where Vaggie waited for them. They passed the first artist who would perform at the concert, who gave them a big grin and a small curtesy, before she hurried up onto the stage. The crowd screamed out and started chanting her name.

Vaggie glanced up from her clipboard as they approached. “Nice one, guys.”

“Thank you,” Lucifer said cheerfully and brought his phone out, checking the time. “I guess I should take my leave if I want to finish my little tour before our reservation,” he muttered and locked his phone, again, placing it back into his pocket. He looked up at Alastor. “You’re sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“Charlie said she wanted some help, so I’ll help her,” Alastor said. “I’ll wait for you at the hotel.”

Lucifer smiled and nodded. “I’ll see you later, then,” he said with a wink and vanished in a puff of red smoke.

Alastor looked at the spot for a moment, before he sighed and pulled his mask off completely. They weren’t wearing them the entire day, of course, but he’d played with the thought of putting them in their little hidden living room in their bayou on display. Either over the fireplace or putting them up on the wall.

“Charlie’s waiting for you,” Vaggie told him before she hurried past him. “I’ll join you guys later when I’ve gotten this concert over and done with. Happy anniversary, Al.”

“Happy anniversary,” Alastor echoed as he let himself drop into his shadow.

He moved back through the crowd. Apparently, it went all the way around the embassy. Screens had been put up to show the other attendees what was going on on-stage.

He kept moving, feeling like he’d rather get away from the huge group of people. He felt on-edge for some reason. He always did during the anniversary. A constant reminder of everything that happened to them. He had a feeling his own nightmares would get worse again, that night, and while he considered just not going to sleep, he decided he might as well try. Lucifer would be in the same state, most likely. Alastor found himself considering the therapist, before he scoffed at himself and the ridiculousness of it. Still, he couldn’t get rid of the thought altogether. It kept simmering in the back of his head until he got to the hotel.

He reemerged from his shadows outside the building and stepped in through the front doors. He found Charlie standing with her hands on her hips, giving Niffty instructions on where she wanted the anniversary banner to go, only for the tiny sinner to move slightly too far, or slightly too short for what the princess wanted.

“You know what, Niff?” Charlie said exasperatedly. “Just place it right there. It’s fine.”

“I heard you needed a hand?” Alastor said as he stepped over to her.

Charlie spun around. “Al!” A wide grin spread across her cheeks before she pulled him right into a hug. It was tighter than usual, Alastor noted, before he hugged her back just as tightly. “How did the parade go?”

“Splendid,” Alastor told her happily. “It could’ve been more memorable, of course, but I think your father empowering everyone made up for it.”

“I’m sure it was great,” Charlie brushed him off and let go of him.

“Boss!” Niffty exclaimed and rushed over to them. She wasted no time climbing up onto his shoulder. “What do you think?” she asked, gesturing to the slightly skewed banner hanging over the stairs.

“It’s perfect, my dear,” Alastor said. “Though, I’m sure the two of you have a lot more to do before the guests arrive, don’t you?” He spawned quite a few minions who immediately went to work on getting the rest of the lobby decorated. “There we go. Is there anything else I can do for you, ladies?”

Charlie watched the minions grab the décor and start hanging it up in different spots. “I was thinking about the food,” she said, leading Alastor towards the kitchens. “Husk was supposed to oversee the cooking, but I let him and Angel go to the parade to help Vaggie, instead. I don’t know if they just ended staying there, or not.”

“I didn’t see them,” Alastor muttered, feeling a flash of irritation. If he just still had Husk under his control, then he probably wouldn’t have tried to bail out on the party preparations. “Of course, I could go and get him for you if you want him to come back.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Charlie said.

“We got Ms Rosie to help us, instead,” Niffty informed him happily. She’d ended up sitting down on his shoulders, holding onto his antlers to keep from falling off.

“Oh, how lovely,” Alastor said with a grin as they stepped into the hallway where the kitchens were. They turned into the more industrial one for the entire hotel, which Alastor was slightly happy about. He didn’t need another reminder of the war by going into the smaller, private kitchen where he’d flung Lucifer through two walls and into the lobby because he mistakenly believed that he’d killed Jackson. “Rosie!” he greeted his friend when he spotted her standing in front of the stove stirring a pot.

“Alastor!” she exclaimed, leaving the pot and hurrying over to him to pull him into an embrace. Niffty jumped off his shoulders to give them some room. “How’s the day been, darlin’?”

“Oh, absolutely marvellous,” Alastor told her and gave her an extra squeeze before he let her go. “I’m surprised you aren’t back in Cannibal Town for the celebrations?”

“Oh, I let them do whatever they wanted, today,” Rosie waved him off. “Most of them were goin’ to the concert, anyway. Hopin’ for a crowd surge, I believe.”

Alastor grimaced. “Roadkill?”

“Some people ain’t as picky as you, darlin’,” Rosie huffed. “I was free, today, at least, so when Charlie asked me for help with the preparations, I jumped at the opportunity to spend some time with you all.”

“Well, do you need any help in the kitchen?” Alastor asked, glancing at Charlie who looked like her mind was somewhere completely different. He didn’t know if it was the stress or something else, but it looked like there was something bothering her.

“I’m sure I can find something for you to do,” Rosie replied with a grin. She turned to Charlie. “I’ve got it under control, here, dearie. You go and work on the ballroom.”

“Sure,” Charlie agreed, before she gave Alastor one last smile and hurried out of the kitchen. Niffty jogged after her, leaving only Alastor and Rosie behind.

“What do you need?” Alastor asked as he stepped over to the pot and stirred it.

“For you to not get that white jacket of yours full of grease,” Rosie scoffed and moved between him and the pot. “Put on an apron, please. You’re givin’ me anxiety.”

“Certainly, my lady,” Alastor said and snapped his fingers, making the apron he once got from Lucifer spawn on him. He brushed some flour off of it, before he leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“The canapés, if you please,” Rosie said, motioning towards a plate with half-done canapés. Alastor hummed to himself as he stepped over to it and continued where whoever had been making them stopped. Rosie sighed quietly, making Alastor glance up from what he was doing.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m fine, dear,” Rosie muttered. “Just bad memories.” Alastor didn’t really know what to say to that. “Not everyone feels like celebrating this day, and for good reason,” she added, the hand stirring the pot slowing down a little, like she got lost in thought. She looked up at him for a moment, before turning back to the pot. “I believe Charlie is struggling with the same thing.”

Alastor stared at her, before he glanced at the door where Charlie had hurried off with Niffty. A day of anniversaries, one of them being her parents dying and coming back. She’d lost two (well, three, now) parents during the war, and while she’d never seemed too worried about it, before, Lucifer and Alastor hadn’t really lived somewhere else than the hotel until they got married just half a year earlier. She saw them less often, especially just hanging around the hotel like they’d done before. Alastor usually helped her out every now and again, but he’d gotten busier with the rest of Hell after becoming Lucifer’s advisor and then his husband.

“I think a lot of people hide their true feelings behind a cheerful exterior,” Alastor murmured as he continued preparing the food. “We lost a lot of people,” he said. “Lucifer and I should’ve been a part of them if it hadn’t been for…” he trailed off with a shrug. “You know.”

“Extreme luck and destiny, I believe,” Rosie said. “However, I think our dear princess also struggles with some sort of survivor’s guilt. Not on her own behalf, but rather because she got her parents back. So many people lost the ones most important to them, and here she is, getting everyone she cares about the most falling right back into her arms.” She sighed and gave Alastor a small smile. “We’re incredibly lucky, and we know people who weren’t. That can also take a toll on someone.”

“You’re right,” Alastor muttered, finishing the canapés and moving over to start on some other finger foods. He hummed thoughtfully and glanced up at his friend. “Do you think she’d like to join Lucifer and me for dinner, today?” Rosie looked at him. “I’ll have to ask him about it, but I don’t think he’d mind.”

“He loves his daughter more than anything, so he’ll probably love that,” Rosie huffed and got some spices out of the cupboard over the stove. “Though, I’m not so sure she’d want to. She’s going to be stressing about the party.”

“The others can take care of the hotel in the meantime,” Alastor stated and started cutting some bell peppers. “You can join us, too, if you’d like?”

Rosie chuckled. “I think I’d much rather have a proper dinner at the palace some other day than the day I lost my friend,” she said.

“I came back,” Alastor huffed.

Rosie’s smile turned sad. “I don’t think this day is the best one for me, anyway, darlin’. You’re not the one who keeps dreamin’ about your best friend bleedin’ out in your arms, are you?”

“No,” Alastor muttered. “I dream about other things,” he admitted, feeling that awful sensation of his stomach dropping like he was falling and the flash of a smile in the clouds above. It made his hands shake, and he ended up waiting for the feeling to pass before he continued to chop. “Mostly the fall, as you know.”

“Yeah,” Rosie breathed. “Either way, I know seeing you alive and well usually helps me know those damned nightmares are just nightmares, but on days like today? I don’t know…” She sighed, again. “Bad reminder, bad day. I don’t have much of a party mood.”

“And still you’re helping Charlie,” Alastor pointed out.

“I don’t have to attend the party to help with the preparations for it,” Rosie retorted, adding the spices to the pot. “Look, Alastor.” She turned to him as she stirred. “The two of us gals lost a lot during the war, and while Charlie would probably love spending some time with the two of you, today, I don’t have the same need. I’d much rather enjoy it some other day when I’m not in such a sour mood.”

“Do you think the carnival was a bad idea?” Alastor asked quietly, feeling like a lot of others might have the same sentiment as Rosie. If they did, they might have to rethink the celebration for the next year.

“Hell no,” she scoffed. “I think it’s a wonderful idea as long as those who wants to celebrate it in other ways don’t get pulled along for the ride.” She grinned at him. “Give me a few more years, and I’ll probably join in on the celebrations,” she said.

“I sure hope so,” Alastor said. “It’s not the same without you.”

“Oh, I know I’m the life of the party,” Rosie snickered. “Now, get that food ready. The concert won’t last forever, and I’m sure the demons would like something to nibble on while they wait for the main course.”

Alastor did as he was told, letting himself focus on preparing the food. He told Rosie about the morning and the parade, even if he felt a bit bad after having had a pretty good day given the circumstances. Rosie had been listening to their broadcast, apparently.

The two of them finished the food in record time and soon enough, the overlord told him to go and check on the princess and see what else he could help her with. He told Rosie that he hoped her evening would be pleasant even if she wouldn’t be celebrating like the rest, before he stepped out of the kitchen and found Charlie in the ballroom. She looked like she was having a problem with the DJ-booth, and he stepped over to see if he could possibly help her out with it.

They got it working, at least. That’s… that’s what Alastor would focus on. Not the struggle getting it up and running.

“I think that’s it,” Charlie muttered, looking around at the decorated room. “And just in time, too,” she added after taking a quick glance at her watch. “The rest should arrive shortly.”

Alastor almost forgot about the fact that he’d wanted to ask her if she wanted to join her father and himself during their dinner. “I was wondering—”

“There you guys are!” Lucifer exclaimed as he stepped in through the doors to the ballroom. He jogged over to them, a big grin on his face. “I met Rosie. She said she was on her way back to Cannibal Town.” He came to a stop beside them and looked around. “Looking good! I’m almost sad I’m not just staying here for the evening. It looks like it’s gonna be wild.” Alastor had a feeling his husband would rather be anywhere else than in a room full of demons partying.

“Yeah,” Charlie drawled, glancing around the room. “Thanks for helping out, Al. We wouldn’t be done without your help.”

“I’m sure you’d manage without me, too,” he said. “But it’s been quite enjoyable to help you out, today.” He looked at Lucifer, who met his gaze curiously. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to join the two of us for our dinner, tonight?” he asked Charlie, checking out Lucifer’s reaction just in case his husband didn’t like the idea. Of course, Lucifer brightened up considerably at the suggestion.

“Yeah!” Lucifer said. “I mean, you could bring Vaggie, too. Make it a double date, sort of?” He grinned at his daughter, who looked more uncertain than excited. “I’ll call the restaurant and reserve a bigger table,” he announced and pulled his phone up.

“Wait—dad!” Charlie blurted out, reaching for his phone. “I don’t have time—”

“But you’d like to join us?” Alastor cut her off as Lucifer continued to try and find the right number.

“Of course I would,” she said, a worried wrinkle settling over her brow. “I just can’t. I have the party I need to take care of.”

Alastor smiled at her, before he grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her a little farther away from Lucifer, who glanced between the two of them as he placed his phone up to his ear.

“Charlie,” Alastor said.

“Alastor,” Charlie said.

Alastor chuckled, before he sighed and tilted his head a little. “I think both your father and I would be more than happy if you joined us,” he told her quietly. “I know it’s not the best day for any of us. We all have things we’re trying to work through when it comes to this anniversary. However, I believe having you there with us would make it better. Not just for us, but for you, too.”

Charlie crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. “I don’t know, Al,” she said, glancing around the room she’d just prepared.

“How about this,” Alastor said. “You join us for the dinner, and the dinner only, and then you’re free to leave. The party will be fine without you for an hour, won’t it?”

“We’re talking about demons, Al,” Charlie said dryly.

“Demons on their way to redemption,” Alastor argued with a grin. “It’ll take at least an hour and a half before something catches fire,” he assured her. “And besides, they won’t be unsupervised. I’m sure Husk and Angel will keep an eye on things for you.”

“I’ve upgraded our table,” Lucifer informed them as he joined them. “What do you say, Charlie? If you don’t want to, we’re not going to pressure you, of course.” Alastor had to bite back a remark about how they were actually pressuring her quite a bit. “But you’re free to join us.”

Alastor hummed. “You can join us later, too, if you’d like,” he suggested. “Greet the guests, get everything sorted and make sure everything is going well, here, and then join us?”

A small spark of hope flickered to life in Charlie’s eyes. “That sounds good,” she agreed. A smile spread across her cheeks. “I’ll see how it goes, first. If it’s complete chaos, I might just stay, but if not…?” She grinned at the two of them. “I’ll keep you updated. I’ll send you a message if something happens.”

“Splendid!” Alastor grinned, patting her shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do tell Vaggie. She looked quite stressed the last time I saw her, so I’m sure she’ll appreciate a heads-up.”

“Will do,” Charlie said and pulled out her phone and sent her wife a text. “What restaurant is it?”

Lucifer gave her the address as the first couple of partygoers came in through the doors. The three of them looked over to the two demons, who grimaced and looked like they were about to back out of the room when Charlie shoved past Lucifer and Alastor and hurried over to them.

“I’ll see you later, dads,” she said over her shoulder, before she turned to greet the two demons.

Alastor smiled. He’d gotten strangely accustomed to being called a dad over the past six months. It was still incredibly strange, of course, but it didn’t make him feel like he’d lost his mind, anymore.

“Ready to go?” Lucifer asked as he opened a portal. “I’m sure they’ve got some nice starters.”

“After you,” Alastor replied, gesturing at the portal. Lucifer snorted and stepped through. Alastor gave Charlie one last look before he followed his husband into the street outside the restaurant they were going to. The portal closed behind him. “Glutton for Punishment?” Alastor questioned as he noticed the name of the restaurant.

“They’re a sinner family restaurant,” Lucifer said as he opened the door for Alastor, who stepped inside and took in the cramped, dark interior. It was poorly lit, but red candles flickered on the tables, giving it quite the cozy feel. “I’ve wanted to go here for a while, but I thought it would be nice to make it a bit more special than just a regular date.”

“A sinner family restaurant?” Alastor questioned, glancing at Lucifer who stopped by the sign telling them to wait for someone to get the seated. There weren’t that many guests, yet, which was nice. The few people that were there stared at them, of course, but other than that, no one seemed to make a fuzz of their presence.

“They died in a fire in their restaurant back on Earth and decided to keep it going in the afterlife,” Lucifer explained. “Apparently, they moved the restaurant when we opened up travel between the rings for sinners, too. They felt it was better to have their place in Gluttony.”

“You know a lot about them,” Alastor said.

“Bee told me about them,” Lucifer replied. “She recommended the place, especially given your preference for human cooking,” he continued.

“In more ways than one,” Alastor snickered.

“Exactly,” Lucifer said, grinning devilishly up at him.

Alastor’s amusement screeched to a halt as he stared at him. “What?”

“Your Majesties!” someone said. Alastor looked up to see black eyes in the face of a young man. A cannibal, clearly. “Welcome! I’m so happy you decided to choose our humble restaurant for the anniversary.” He bowed.

“There’s no need for that,” Lucifer said kindly, making the waiter straighten up again.

“My apologies,” the man said. “A table for four, was it? Away from the rest?”

“Yup,” Lucifer confirmed with a nod.

The waiter nodded for them to follow, and showed them into a booth in the back, slightly away from the rest of the guests. Alastor had no idea what to think. A family of cannibals. Had they served humans when they were still alive? Were they serving demons in this restaurant? None of the guests looked like they were cannibals, either, but the family that owned the place clearly were.

He slipped into the booth on the opposite side of Lucifer, who thanked the guy for the menus. His husband slid one of them over the table toward Alastor, who thanked him and opened it up. Most of the dishes seemed like they were pretty standard, but then he turned to the next page and saw a whole section dedicated to human meat.

“You keep surprising me,” Alastor muttered as he started looking through the dishes.

“Thought maybe you wanted to try out some new ways of preparing those sacrifices of yours,” Lucifer said, looking through the starters. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to experiment a bit instead of eating them raw.” He glanced up at him. “I mean, maybe it’ll make you enjoy them more? Savor them a bit?”

Alastor huffed and stretched his leg out under the table until he felt Lucifer’s foot. He tapped his shoe against Lucifer’s. Lucifer smiled at him and tapped his shoe back.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Alastor said and turned back to his menu, finding a few dishes that looked interesting.

Lucifer picked out a couple of starters they could nibble on while they waited for Charlie and Vaggie to join them, as well as some wine to the meal. The young sinner took their menus and walked away from their table and came back with the wine, before he once again left them.

“How’s Charlie doing?” Lucifer asked after trying his wine.

Alastor hummed quietly, swirling the red liquid in his glass in thought. “She’s doing better than she was the first few years.”

“But?”

“We’re not staying much at the hotel after we got married,” Alastor said. “I don’t know if it makes her feel like we’re not there for her, anymore, or if there’s something else, but she seems less bubbly today than I’ve seen her in a while.”

Lucifer sighed and nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I was thinking of trying to get a more weekly thing going. A dinner, or just visiting the hotel or staying at the hotel a little more often than now.”

“We also have to bring her with us to New Orleans,” Alastor said as the waiter came over with a basket full of steaming bread and some butter. Alastor picked up one of the chunks and ripped off a piece. “We’ve just never had time for it.”

“We could bring all of them, actually,” Lucifer said thoughtfully. “Have a game night or something.”

“We’ll see,” Alastor said, not feeling like he wanted more people than necessary into their vacation home.

They got through half of the basket before they heard someone come over to them. Alastor thought it was Charlie and Vaggie finally showing up, but when they looked over, they saw a young imp moving closer to them. She couldn’t be more than fifteen or sixteen. Maybe slightly older, but Alastor’ wasn’t the best at figuring out the age on some of the Hellborn. They usually looked younger than they really were.

Lucifer’s eyes widened as he noticed her. “Oh, my fucking dad,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s you!”

“Who?” Alastor asked.

The imp smiled shyly at them, moving a little closer to their table. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you,” she said. “I just wanted to thank you.”

Lucifer grinned at her. “You’ve grown up since last time I saw you,” he said and got out of his seat. “Ana, was it?”

The imp looked surprised that he remembered her name. “I- yes, sir,” she said. “As I said, I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.” She glanced at Alastor. “Both of you, I guess.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave you there with those angels, now, could I?” Lucifer huffed. “How’re you doing? Did you find your parents?”

“My dad,” she said quietly. “Mom didn’t…” she trailed off and cleared her throat. “Dad found me a few weeks after the war ended. We moved to Gluttony not long after that.”

“Sorry to hear about your mom,” Lucifer said. “But you’re doing okay with your dad, I take it?”

“Yes,” Ana said with a sad smile. “He took care of me until I was old enough to move out last year.”

“And you’re here with him, today?” Lucifer asked, glancing around the restaurant as if trying to spot her father. Alastor glanced around as well, not really seeing anyone except a group of younger demons sitting at a table nearby.

“No, but I’m staying with him for the evening,” Ana told him. “He said he wanted me to enjoy the day, so I joined my friends, instead.” She gestured to the group Alastor had noticed. They were all staring at the girl like she was completely out of her mind going up to talk to the two royals. “Dad’s got a couple of visitors, too, so he’s not alone.”

“That’s good,” Lucifer said and turned to Alastor, who still had no idea who this girl was. “It’s the girl I rescued. The first one,” he explained. Lucifer had told him about her, before. The one he’d found about to get killed by a couple of angels at the beginning of the war, who he’d brought back to the hotel and handed over to Charlie before the people staying at the hotel migrated to the palace basement.

“Oh, yes,” Alastor said. “The one you told me about,” he added, seeing the girl blush. He rested his head in his hands. “He’s mentioned you a few times.” The blush deepened and he grinned a little wider. “Nice to know you’re doing alright. I’ll make sure to send Charlie over to say hi, too, when she shows up.”

“Oh!” Ana grinned sheepishly. “That’s not necessary. I’m sure you’d rather spend the day without being bothered. You don’t have to—”

“I think our dear princess would be absolutely ecstatic to hear you’re doing alright,” Alastor cut her off. “Right, darling?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer agreed. “Meeting people we rescued makes it feel like we actually made a difference.”

“You saved everyone in Hell,” Ana pointed out.

“He did,” Lucifer said, motioning to Alastor, who rolled his eyes. “I just helped.”

“You saved me, first,” Alastor said.

“You stopped the war,” Lucifer argued.

“We stopped the war, you dunce,” Alastor scoffed. “After starting it in the first place,” he added, taking a sip of his wine.  

“Accidentally,” Lucifer added with a sheepish chuckle, glancing at Ana. “We tried to prevent it, but we couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “Seems to me it was necessary to create a better Hell. We all lost someone, but it brought everyone who was left closer together. I wouldn’t have my friends if it hadn’t happened, and they mean the world to me.”

“Wise young girl,” Alastor commented quietly, making the imp smile. “How we see it,” he continued, “it was inevitable. It’s always been inevitable. It just happened now instead of in a hundred years, a thousand years or even a million. It could’ve happened thousands of years ago, too.” Ana nodded in agreement. “It’s been smouldering under the surface since Lucifer, here, decided to go against his siblings’ wishes and let Eve eat a forbidden fruit.” He sighed and tilted his head. “Still, it must’ve been hard on a young soul like yourself to have to go through something so traumatic.”

“Oh, I’m okay,” Ana brushed him off. “Talked to a therapist, and now I’m much better than I was.” Alastor met Lucifer’s eyes, before he glanced back at the imp. “No more nightmares, at least. Well, some, but not as bad as they were. Dad helped me out a lot, too.”

“Good for you,” Lucifer said kindly. “I’m happy you’re doing okay, at least. I’ll send Charlie over to say hi when she arrives,” he promised.

“Thank you,” Ana said, bowing her head a little, before she grinned at the two of them. “I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thanks,” Lucifer said as she took a few steps back, clearly about to go back to her friends. “Do say hello to your dad from me, okay?”

“I will!” Ana promised, before she gave them a small wave and hurried off back to her friends. They all continued to stare at them until she got back to them. They immediately leaned forward and started to whisper to each other once she joined them. It made Alastor chortle.

Lucifer sat back down in the booth. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually considering that therapist,” he muttered, taking a gulp of wine. “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

Alastor sighed and traced the rim of his glass with his finger. “Why don’t you go and tell me how well it goes, and I’ll consider it?” he suggested.

“What if we go together?” Lucifer retorted, leaning forward in his seat and lowering his voice. “Look, those nightmares are going to haunt us for forever. I still dream about the first one.” He glanced over his shoulder as if he thought someone were listening in on their conversation, before he turned back to Alastor. “What if it helps?”

“And what if it doesn’t?” Alastor asked. “I’m not comfortable with some random person knowing what we went through.” He grimaced. “Especially not the part before the fall.”

“No one says we have to mention that part,” Lucifer whispered. “Just the rest of it.”

“That’s the part I struggle with the most,” Alastor admitted with a hiss, which seemed to surprise Lucifer more than he thought it would. His husband blinked at him, before he furrowed his brow.

“Meeting him?”

“I see his stupid smile every time I close my eyes,” Alastor growled.

“Shit,” Lucifer breathed, which made it sound like it was worse than he’d thought, which again wasn’t very reassuring. “That’s not…” Lucifer bit his lip. “That’s not good.” He tapped the table rapidly with his finger, before it landed one last time. “Not good at all,” Lucifer said thoughtfully. His eyes snapped up to his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was that important,” Alastor replied. “The main part of the dream is always the fall.”

Lucifer stared at him for a moment, before he deflated and placed his hands on the table, palms up. Alastor hesitantly placed his hands in his. Lucifer glanced around the room for a moment, before he looked back up at Alastor with a serious expression on his face. He closed his eyes and Alastor felt a comfortable warmth spread across his palms and up his arms.

“You’re always there to catch me, anyway,” Alastor added quietly as he felt Lucifer’s energy prod at his essence. A small smile tugged at the corner of his husband’s lips at the comment.

“I still feel him,” Lucifer said after a moment. “I don’t know if I can get rid of it or not.” He opened his eyes and met Alastor’s gaze. “I don’t know if that’s what’s causing it, either.” The warmth retreated, and Alastor felt a slight shiver run down his spine. “I think I might be able to try and get rid of it, at least, but not here.”

“You can try when we’re alone if you want,” Alastor offered, feeling Lucifer’s thumbs run over his knuckles. “I’m not opposed to trying whatever it takes to get rid of that damned energy, at least. It doesn’t matter that it gives me some extra abilities if it makes me constantly see his face.” He leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Just to be clear, I absolutely hate your father with a passion.”

Lucifer grimaced. “Yeah, I’m not blaming you,” he muttered. “I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten rid of it himself.”

“Is he testing me, you think?” Alastor asked.

“Fuck if I know,” Lucifer huffed. “I don’t think he is, but we can’t really know with that guy. He’s him. He does whatever the fuck he wants.”

“Well, I’m incredibly tired of him,” Alastor grumbled.

“I’ll try my best to get rid of it,” Lucifer said seriously and squeezed his hands. “I can’t promise anything, since I’m quite far below him in power, and if he wants you to have that little piece of him, I can’t really do much.”

“Whatever it takes,” Alastor repeated.

“Whatever it takes,” Lucifer said with a determined nod. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you.”

Lucifer let go of him and leaned back in his seat. “So, do you think you’re ready to order something more than just bread, or are we going to wait for Charlie and Vaggie for a little while longer?”

“I don’t think we have to wait at all,” Alastor told him and nodded towards the door where the two aforementioned girls hurried in through the entrance. He raised his hand and waved at them. Charlie grinned and pulled Vaggie with her. “How nice of you to join us,” Alastor said as Lucifer shuffled sideways until he’d gotten all the way around the booth and settled down beside him, letting Vaggie and Charlie slide into the side opposite of them. He shoved the bread basket over to them. “Have some bread.”

“Oh,” Charlie said. “Thanks.” She took a deep breath before she let it out in a huff. It seemed to relax her as she leaned on the table and grabbed one of the bread chunks. “It took a while before Husk and Angel showed up.”

“Then the DJ was late,” Vaggie added grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is the last time I hire that fucking guy. Completely unprofessional.” She grabbed a piece of bread and bit into it.

“He got recommended to me,” Charlie muttered.

“By Angel,” Vaggie scoffed through her mouthful. “Who met him through his previous work, ten years ago,” she added before she let out a long sigh. “It doesn’t matter. He’ll do for now.”

“Well, thank you for joining us, anyway,” Lucifer said. “It’s nice to be able to have a dinner with just the four of us, again.” He looked over to where the young cannibal was working the register. Alastor thought he was going to whistle for him or something, but instead, his husband just stared intensely at him for a few seconds. He was about to ask if he should call for him, but then the man frowned and turned to look at them. Lucifer’s expression brightened as he nodded for the guy to come over.

“You couldn’t just call for him?” Alastor murmured.

“I didn’t want to disturb the entire fucking restaurant,” Lucifer mumbled back as the waiter approached them with more menus.

“Your Highnesses,” the waiter greeted them. “Here you go,” he said as he placed the menus on the table. “Can I get you something to drink to start with? More wine?”

“I think I’ll pass on the wine,” Charlie said with a sigh. “I won’t be able to take care of the hotel if I end up drunk.”

“One glass can’t be that bad, can it?” Lucifer asked. “Just to take the edge off?”

Charlie glanced at Vaggie, before she looked back on the menu. “Fine,” she muttered. “One glass will be fine.”

“We do have some Earth wine, too, if you’re worried about the amount of alcohol,” the waiter offered, making Charlie look up at him. That got Lucifer and Alastor’s attention, too. “You’ll barely feel the alcohol, but with a richer flavour than whatever we’re able to make in Hell.”

“That sounds great,” Charlie said.

“Well, I’ll get the most exquisite, French wine we have, just for you,” the waiter said. “Anything else you’d like?”

“You can get us two bottles of that wine, actually,” Lucifer piped up.

“I sure will!” The waiter gave them a wide grin and hurried off again.

It didn’t take long for him to return with two extra glasses and the bottles. He placed them on the table and let them all place their orders, before he scurried off again, bringing the menus with him. Lucifer mentioned to Charlie who they’d met, and the princesses didn’t hesitate as they got up from their seats and went over to the group of young demons to talk to the imp they’d saved from certain death. Alastor smiled to himself as they waited for them to return.

The war had been rough, but seeing how much better Hell had become after it was over, and how they’d established the connection between the two realms made it seem a lot more worth it. A blunder had turned into something wonderful.

He sighed contentedly and leaned a little against Lucifer. He felt his husband lean back against him. That annoying, overwhelmed feeling had mostly died down. It felt more like a regular day than anything special being in Gluttony inside some small, dark restaurant instead of in front of a huge crowd celebrating and cheering. He knew there was still the last part of the day, left, but at least he didn’t have to spend it with more than one person by his side (after the dinner, that is).

Charlie and Vaggie came back when the food was served. Alastor enjoyed himself quite a bit, having ordered human meat. Lucifer had been right about there being fun ways to cook them, and it inspired him to try out some new recipes with the rest of the sacrifices he had in the freezer. He made a mental list of different options, which he was determined to write down the moment he got the chance.

Charlie relaxed more and more the longer they stayed, clearly forgetting about the fact that she technically had a party to host. She didn’t start stressing until she glanced at the clock on the wall during dessert and found out they’d been there for longer than she’d expected. Lucifer told her it would be fine and that the rest of their friends could handle themselves for the time being, and that fifteen more minutes wouldn’t destroy the entire hotel. She’d been a bit more worried, before she seemed to decide that they could stay a little while longer just to finish the wine, at least.

The candle on their table had almost burned down completely to the candlestick before they all decided to take their leave. Lucifer ended up buying another couple of wine bottles and gave one of them to the girls. Alastor decided he would have to come back to the restaurant at a later date and bring Rosie. He knew she would appreciate the human meat, at least.

“I’ll help you fix the hotel if they’ve done a lot of damage,” Lucifer told his daughter before pulling her into a hug. They were standing out on the sidewalk, ready to go their separate ways for the evening. Alastor realised it was getting closer to the main event of the day. He hadn’t thought they were going to stay at the restaurant for such a long time. He’d been enjoying himself, at least, and it seemed like Charlie felt a bit better than she had just a few hours earlier. “I’m sure it’s fine, though.”

“We’ll see,” Charlie muttered and let go of him, before she went over to hug Alastor, too. “I always think there’s going to be some damage, but the new hotel is a lot sturdier than the first.” She gave Alastor a squeeze and pulled away from him. “They’re pretty nice people, the demons living there, now. A lot of them are almost ready for Heaven, so. I’m hoping they’re able to behave at least a little bit”

“If not, you’ve gotten really good at making them realise their mistakes,” Alastor told her as she opened a portal to the hotel. They could hear the music from the other side, but other than that, it seemed quite peaceful.

“It’s not a day for destruction, anyway,” Vaggie said. “It’s the one day people don’t ruin anything. I think I saw someone start yelling at one of the new sinners because they broke a window, even.” She smiled at Charlie. “And of course, having the main event being something other than fireworks also makes people less violent, I think. People calm down a couple of hours before it happens.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed. “Well, we still have to check how everyone’s doing and get everything ready.” She glanced at Lucifer and Alastor. “You’re free to join us, if you want? It’s a pretty nice view from the hotel.”

“We’re going back to the palace, I think,” Lucifer said. “We might join you a little later, but we’ll just watch from there. Gives us a view of almost all of Pride.”

“You could fly to one of the mountains, too,” Charlie suggested, grinning slyly. Alastor knew she knew about his fear of heights.

“I tried to suggest it to him, but he refused,” Lucifer huffed, making Alastor roll his eyes.

“The next time I fly, it’ll be because it’s absolutely necessary,” he grumbled. “A life-or-death kind of situation.”

Charlie snorted. “Sure,” she said, giving her dad a look that told Alastor that she had a feeling he’d be back in the air before he knew it. Alastor would do just about anything to avoid that from happening, of course. “Well, I think we should get going. Thanks for dinner.”

“It was lovely,” Alastor said. “Enjoy the party.”

“We’ll try,” Charlie replied and took her wife’s hand, before she led her through the portal and into the hotel.

The four of them said their goodbyes before the portal closed, leaving only Lucifer and Alastor on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Lucifer sighed and turned to look at Alastor with a gentle smile on his lips, before he offered him his hand. Alastor took it.

“Did you have anything else planned for the evening?” he asked his husband.

Lucifer grinned a little wider and opened a portal. Alastor paused when he noticed it actually wasn’t the palace at all. It looked like somewhere completely different. His eyes flickered down to Lucifer, who started leading him towards the portal. Alastor let himself be dragged through the rift in reality and out onto the top of one of the highest peaks surrounding Pentagram City. It gave them a fantastic view of the entirety of the Pride Ring, even making them able to see all the different cities in the distance. The huge hole in the middle of the ring and the beam of light that vanished through the middle of the pentagram hanging above them felt smaller when he saw it from that angle. He’d been at the edge of the hole quite a few times, especially when he brought people there to get redeemed. They’d built a golden walkway over to the light. He could see it from where he stood looking like a glimmering needle pointing at the beam.

“She knew you would bring me here,” Alastor realised as he looked around. Lucifer hummed in confirmation as he closed the portal, revealing what looked like a picnic blanket surrounded by a bunch of candles and tealights. A light breeze made the flames flicker.

“I thought you’d enjoy a better view,” Lucifer said and escorted him over to the blanket. He gestured for him to sit down. Alastor did, watching his husband sit down beside him and reach for the basket. He placed it in his lap and opened it up. He brought out two glasses and a wooden tray. He placed the tray down and put the two glasses on top of it, before he brought out the wine he’d gotten from the restaurant and held it up. “You okay with this one, or do you want something stronger?”

“That one’s perfectly fine,” Alastor assured him, crossing one leg over the other. He leaned back on his hands, gazing out over their realm. “It’s definitely a better view than what we get from the palace.”

“It is,” Lucifer agreed. “I was thinking of flying us here, but you’ve made it very clear you’ll rip my head off if I ever try and bring you with me on a flight, again, so I took the less terrifying option,” he explained cheekily.

“I’m not terrified of flying,” Alastor argued.

“Hmm,” Lucifer hummed doubtfully as he handed him one of the glasses. “Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered and took his own glass and sipped from it. He brought his legs up, hugging them to his chest. “Do you want me to try and get rid of that energy, now, while we wait, or do you want to do it some other time?”

Alastor sighed and took a big gulp of his wine. It might be as good as non-alcoholic, but the taste was enough to give him the courage he needed to venture into the more annoying struggles he’d been dealing with after their fall.

He placed the glass back down on the tray and silently gave Lucifer his hand. Lucifer didn’t even bother to put his own glass down as he let his energy flow through their joined hands. It felt close to what it had felt like when he’d had Adam’s energy stuck in his chest, but not as painful, as Lucifer found the little part that wasn’t supposed to be there.

“This could be extremely painful,” Lucifer warned quietly as he adjusted his grip on Alastor’s hand. Alastor closed his eyes as he felt the same sort of pull he’d gotten when Lucifer had removed Adam’s energy. Like it wanted to stay with him. A pest or a leech. Something that would try and cling to him for no reason other than feed off of his energy.

However, this energy was different than an angel’s. It didn’t feed on him or prevent him from healing. Instead, it gave him some powers he didn’t know if he should have. He’d teleported a bunch of cannibals to some other place in the city, once, which wasn’t something he’d actually been able to do before. He didn’t know how to use the little smear of godly energy he’d gotten from licking a knife with God’s blood on it. Knowing who it belonged to felt worse than knowing it gave him some small, quite unnecessary abilities. If it was the cause of his nightmares, too, then he’d much rather get rid of it.

A sharp, ripping pain made Alastor suck in a sharp breath. His grip on Lucifer’s hand turned crushing. He curled in on himself. It felt like his soul was about to break into pieces. It felt a million times worse than what had happened with Adam.

“Stop!” he cried out. Lucifer stopped the attempted extraction immediately. “Fuck,” Alastor hissed. He felt the rip mend itself. The pain dulled down until it vanished completely. The trace of the lamb was still there. He grumbled, panting as he leaned down and placed his head on Lucifer’s shoulder. “It’s still there.”

“I couldn’t get a good grip on it,” Lucifer muttered, tilting his head sideways until he was resting his cheek against the top of Alastor’s head. “I could try again—”

“No,” Alastor interrupted him. “No,” he repeated quietly. “It felt like you were ripping out a piece of me.”

“It’s really stuck in there, yeah,” Lucifer murmured. “I’d have to be a lot more careful. Or I’ll have to try and get rid of it piece by piece.”

“Maybe he’s just decided that he wants me to live with it,” Alastor said, finally feeling like he wasn’t about to be ripped apart, anymore.

“Could be.” Lucifer placed his glass down and brought his hand up to run his fingers through Alastor’s hair. “I’d like to know why, to be honest.”

Alastor wasn’t so sure he wanted to know, himself, if he was being honest. At least he’d learned not to lick strange knives he didn’t know where had been. Or, well, he knew it had what looked like angelic blood on it, but the angel in question hadn’t been an angel at all.

“I don’t think he’ll give you an answer,” Alastor muttered into his shoulder, leaning into his touch. Lucifer sighed and turned his head enough to press a gentle kiss to his temple. “I guess I’ll just have to accept having it there,” he continued, cracking his eyes open to glance out over the city in front of them.

Alastor’s eyes caught on a tiny, flickering dot rising up towards the sky, starting from the Heaven embassy in the middle of Pentagram City. Another one joined it soon after.

He moved away from Lucifer’s shoulder, before he shuffled a little closer to him until they were sitting flush against each other. He pulled his legs up to his chest like his husband as the two of them watched the tiny star-like lights float up into the air.

The last tradition on the war anniversary was the lanterns. It had been Charlie’s idea. She’d wanted to find a way to symbolise the retreat of the angels, and had landed on sending up lanterns during the evening around the time when the war had ended and the angels had left Hell through the portal in the sky.

Alastor and Lucifer hadn’t seen it, themselves. They’d either been dead or already in Heaven by the time the war had been declared over, which was why it had never been too big of a deal for the two of them. Still, they’d seen how the rest of the demons had reacted during the first anniversary when the lanterns were released up into the sky.

The silence had been what stood out the most to the two of them. It was like the entirety of Hell held its breath, or more fittingly, like they were all honouring their fallen. The ones who hadn’t made it. The ones who didn’t come back from the fights. A moment of respect, grief and love. No one said anything while the floating lanterns made their way up into the air. No music would be played. No songs would be sung. No explosions, fireworks or anything of the sort. Just silence.

Peace, Alastor thought as more of the little lanterns continued up into the air. There was a reverence about the tradition that he’d never seen anywhere else. The end of a war. The end of an era of oppression and hate between two realms, marking the beginning of cooperation and love, instead.

More and more lights joined the first. A rising tide of golden flames covered every inch of the city as demons released their lanterns and let them get taken by the breeze, bringing them higher. Alastor couldn’t help but feel they looked slightly like his fireflies where they continued their journey up towards the pentagram. He looked around at the rest of the Pride Ring, seeing more lights rise up from every direction. A couple of lanterns even glimmered from the hole in the middle of Hell, people from the other rings sending up lanterns themselves and letting them dance around each other and the beam of light in the centre of their realm.

Lucifer shifted a little beside him, making Alastor glanced at him, seeing him cup his hands together. A flash burst between his fingers, and a moment later, his husband opened his hands to reveal a small, but bright, little light. It took Alastor a moment to realise what it was.

A star.

Lucifer looked up at him with a sad smile. He let the star shimmer and shine a little brighter, before it slowly but surely started to lift itself into the air. Alastor watched it as it moved up into the sky, shining brighter and brighter as it continued up. Another one joined the first, then another, and another, until eight little stars made their way up into the sky. They flew with clear intention in comparison to the lanterns. Alastor stared after them, seeing them go faster and faster until they looked like tiny rockets on their way past the atmosphere.

The stars hit the pentagram and went past it, before they settled down in the sky, glimmering in fixed spots. Alastor had a feeling this was a new tradition Lucifer wanted to do. Creating a star for each year they got further away from the war. The thing Lucifer had mentioned being for all the demons of Hell, not just Alastor.

Lucifer hugged his legs a little tighter to his chest as the lanterns continued to float. His eyes were stuck on the stars, however.

They stayed there in silence until the lanterns got high enough to start hitting the pentagram. Much like the fireworks from the concert, the lanterns burst into flames once they got in contact with the giant pentagram, creating the illusion of blinking stars from above. The only ones left were the eight real ones Lucifer had just made.

His husband let out a sigh once most of the lanterns were gone, before he placed his head on Alastor’s shoulder and started to hum a quiet tune. Alastor glanced at him as he started murmuring.

“My brother said I’m too romantic,” Lucifer sang gently. “He said, ‘You’re dancing in the galaxies.’” Lucifer glanced back up at him, meeting his eyes. “I almost started to believe him, then I saw you and I knew.” Lucifer looked back to the city. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I got a little bit older. Maybe it’s all that I’ve been through.” He grinned softly. “I’d like to think it’s how you lean on my shoulder, and how I see myself with you.”

Alastor stared at him as he heard soft music spill out into the air around them. Lucifer leaned a little heavier against him. Alastor found himself leaning back.

“I don’t say a word, but still you take my breath and steal the things I know,” Lucifer continued. “There you go, saving me from out of the cold.”

He got up from his spot and held his hand out for Alastor to take. Alastor did, letting him pull him to his feet.

“Fire on fire, would normally kill us,” Lucifer sang, holding his hands gently. “But this much desire, together we’re winners.” He pulled Alastor out of the little ring of candles and brought him into a gentle dance. “They say that we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners, but don’t let them ruin our beautiful rhythms.” Lucifer brought him into a small twirl, before he brought him close enough to stand chest to chest. He stared up at Alastor, eyes sparkling. “’Cause when you unfold me and tell me you love me, and look in my eyes.” He brought a hand up and placed it against Alastor’s cheek. “You are perfection, my only direction. It’s fire on fire.”

Alastor leaned into the touch until he saw Lucifer unfold his wings. The feathers glittered in the light of the moon. He felt his heart speed up when he realised what Lucifer was offering. He took a small step back, but his husband grabbed his hands again, almost desperately.

“Please,” Lucifer whispered. “Wait,” he continued.

“I don’t think I can,” Alastor whispered back. “Not after everything that happened last time…”

Lucifer stretched his wings out a little, only to fold them back in. He didn’t get rid of them completely, much to Alastor’s concern.

“You’ve been flying after that, too,” Lucifer pointed out with a worried smile. “When we got engaged.” He kept Alastor’s gaze. “And you’re thinking of the fall, not flying,” he added quietly. “We had a bit of a rough flight, but only when trying to get away from Gabriel. After that there wasn’t anything that made us fall.” He grimaced. “Except when we fell, but that’s completely different.”

Alastor took another, hesitant step backwards, getting slightly more space between them. Lucifer was right, of course. The flights he’d joined Lucifer on during the war hadn’t been especially terrifying. He never felt like Lucifer would just drop him on accident or let go of him. However, flying felt a lot like falling. It just felt like falling without hitting the ground. His stomach rolled at the thought. He swallowed thickly as he glanced at Lucifer’s wings. They were looking just as pretty as the last time he’d seen them. He’d taken great pride in bringing them back to perfection. He knew every scar hidden under the feathers, both after having seen the arrows sticking out of them, and after preening them multiple times to get the feathers to lie properly.

Lucifer stared at him for a moment longer, before he sighed, smiled sadly and let his wings vanish. “I’ll stop asking,” he said. He started pulling Alastor back towards the blanket, but Alastor didn’t budge from where he stood. Lucifer glanced up at him in confusion and something close to fear, like he thought he’d done something he couldn’t take back.

“No,” Alastor croaked out, feeling like he was both telling him not to stop asking, as well as telling him he hadn’t made some stupid mistake. “No.” He pulled Lucifer back towards him. “You’re right.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You’re right,” Alastor repeated, as much as it pained him to admit it. “I am terrified. You dropped me quite a few times, brought me into a cave filled with lava that was causing me severe pain, I almost got my head cut off, we crashed into someone at full speed—I could keep going,” he scoffed, making Lucifer purse his lips. “So yes, Lucifer, I am terrified of flying. Not to mention it feels very close to falling.” He sighed, pulling Lucifer back to him until they once again were chest to chest. He slithered his arms around Lucifer’s waist. “But I also trust you,” he said quietly. “I know you won’t just drop me without telling me.”

Lucifer’s eyes brightened slightly. “So…?”

“Fly me to the moon,” Alastor murmured, only regretting it when the wings unfolded behind Lucifer and stretched out to their full length. His husband looked ecstatic as he held onto Alastor and beat his wings. A moment later they were up in the air. Alastor’s heart hammered in his chest. He buried his face in Lucifer’s shoulder and tried to calm himself down. It had been such a long time since he was in the air last time that he didn’t quite remember what had made it more comfortable.

That is until Lucifer’s hold on him tightened a little, he hooked his legs around Alastor’s, and assured him quietly that he got him. Well, it only helped slightly as they hit some wind, which brought them higher into the air. It caused Alastor’s stomach to drop, which again caused him to grip onto the back of Lucifer’s jacket.

“When we fight, we fight like lions,” Lucifer continued his song from earlier, letting go of Alastor with one hand to comb his hair out of his face. He placed a hand under his chin and tilted Alastor’s head a little so he met Lucifer’s eyes. “But then we love and feel the truth,” he sang, smiling down at him. “We lose our minds in a city of demons. We don’t abide by any rules.”

Alastor chanced a glance at where they were, seeing that they were soaring through the air above Pentagram City. He’d forgotten how it looked from the sky. The ragged edges that showed the outline of the crater Lucifer had left behind after his first fall. His breath caught in his throat, but Lucifer’s voice filled his ears before he could start thinking about it.

“I don’t say a word, but still, you take my breath and steal the things I know.” They turned a little. Alastor felt himself loosen his grip a little as he once again felt himself get a bit more comfortable. “There you go, saving me from out of the cold.”

Lucifer brought them higher until they were right below the pentagram in the sky. Alastor always thought it was just like some sort of cloud, or just reflected light, but the closer they got, the more he realised it was made up of pure energy. A shield blocking them from the space between the realms.

“Fire on fire, would normally kill us,” his husband sang. “But this much desire, together we’re winners.” Alastor brought his hand up to touch the giant star, but Lucifer got them out of reach, giving him a warning look. “They say we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners, but don’t let them ruin our beautiful rhythms.”

Lucifer held on a little tighter and got them over to where the connection between Heaven and Hell pierced through the centre of the pentagram. Alastor looked down and saw what looked like a bottomless pit below them. What was more concerning was that Lucifer seemed to lower them down towards the hole in the rings.

“’Cause when you unfold me and tell me you love me, and look in my eyes,” Lucifer continued, completely unconcerned about the fact that they were right above what looked darker than Alastor’s void. His husband once again brought his hand up to tilt Alastor’s eyes away from what was below. “You are perfection, my only direction. It’s fire on fire.” Lucifer brought him around the beam of light as if showing it off. Alastor remembered the golden creatures dancing above the centre of Hell as they created it. Lucifer had wanted to show it to him back then, already, but Alastor hadn’t wanted to fly. He was starting to enjoy it, a little.

Lucifer adjusted his hold on him and brought him up until they were face to face, and lowered his voice. “Fire on fire, we’re normally killers,” he sang cheekily, making Alastor snicker. It felt thrilling. “But this much desire, together we’re winners.” They flew away from the hole and turned towards the mountains. “They say that we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners.” Lucifer grinned at him. “But don’t let them ruin our beautiful rhythms.”

He flew faster, spinning them up into the air and into a loop, making Alastor cling onto him again. Still, it didn’t feel as terrifying as it had, anymore. It almost felt fun as they dove down and made their way through the mountain range, zigzagging through the valleys and arches. Not as fast as they’d been going back during the war while trying to escape Gabriel, but still pretty fast.

“Fire on fire, would normally kill us,” Lucifer sang, his voice echoing through the valleys and canyons around them. “But this much desire, together we’re winners.” Alastor noticed they were on their way back to the mountain they’d taken off from. “They say that we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners, but don’t let them ruin our beautiful rhythms.” Lucifer circled the peak a couple of times. “’Cause when you unfold me, and tell me you love me and look in my eyes.”

He changed his grip on Alastor and gently brought him back down onto solid ground. Alastor felt a bit shaky. Lucifer floated above him, bringing his hands up to cup Alastor’s cheeks.

“You are perfection, my only direction,” he sang softly, brushing Alastor’s hair out of his eyes. “It’s fire on fire.” He smiled down at him, eyes filled with affection and love as he placed their foreheads together. “You are perfection, my only direction,” he repeated quietly, gazing deeply into his eyes as Alastor felt a strange sense of déjà vu. “It’s fire on fire.”

Alastor grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down into a kiss. Lucifer sighed into it as he landed, forcing Alastor to bend down. His husband slid a hand up into his hair. His wings fluttered a little as he moved closer. Alastor brought his hand behind his back, feeling the wings spread apart. The feathers felt incredibly soft to the touch as his fingers brushed against them. He felt Lucifer shiver in his arms. His husband let out a soft breath, and Alastor took the opportunity and bit gently into his bottom lip. Golden blood spilled out of his skin, and Alastor wasted no time licking it up.

Lucifer grinned. A quiet giggle bubbled out of him as he pressed closer. Alastor felt his wings fold up and vanish, which made it a lot easier for Alastor to slide his hand up to his husband’s nape. His heart was still racing, and it felt like he was moments away from feeling overwhelmed when he remembered that Lucifer still owed him a stab.

He grinned back against his husband’s lips, feeling his teeth click against his own as he got one of his bigger knives out of his void. Lucifer hummed against his lips, sending sparks through his system. Alastor decided it was the perfect moment and drove the knife into Lucifer’s gut.

He was going to enjoy the sound of his husband yelling out in pain when he felt a piercing pain explode through his own stomach. For a very short moment he thought he’d somehow ended up getting the ability to feel Lucifer’s pain, but then he realised he hadn’t actually heard Lucifer make a single sound.

Alastor opened his eyes. He met Lucifer’s huge ones. The two of them stared at each other, before they glanced down. Alastor saw his own hand holding his knife sticking out of Lucifer’s stomach, but then he moved his gaze to where Lucifer’s hand was wrapped around an equally big knife sticking out of his own.

“Did you just stab me?!” Alastor exclaimed and met Lucifer’s widening eyes.

“Yes?” he squawked, sounding more panicked than Alastor had probably ever heard him. “You stabbed me, too!”

“You’ve never stabbed me before!” Alastor continued, looking back down at the two knives sticking out of them. Golden and dark blood dripped down onto the ground below them, mixing together into something that Alastor’s mind told him was art. He told his mind to fuck off, because he’d just been gut-stabbed by his husband, and he had no idea what to do about it. “Why the fuck did you stab me!?”

Lucifer spluttered a little before he managed to squeak out something mostly comprehensible. “I thought since we both got fucking stabbed—I mean, it felt fitting, I don’t know why I did it, I just did, and I’m really fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Alastor smashed their lips together.

The war anniversary wasn’t something all demons looked forward to. Not at all. Some hated it. Some loved it. They were all still trying to find out what to do to honour the ones they’d lost the best way possible. A healing realm filled with demons; sinners, Hellborn, and fallen. They’d worked together to build what they currently had, and they would keep working together to improve on their home.

Eight stars hung above Hell.

The first of many. 

Chapter Text

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

Andy looked up from what he’d been doing at lieutenant Carter. The man looked quite annoyed, which Andy guessed could be from the fact that he’d had to take the nightshift after one of the others on the team had called in sick.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Andy asked, gesturing to his desk. Documents and files covered most of it. Stacks of reports, old pictures and crime scene descriptions made it feel cluttered, and while he knew he should’ve tidied it up a bit, he didn’t feel like he had time for it. He wanted this case done, and while none of the others seemed to take it too seriously anymore, he felt like they could solve it if they just found a little more evidence.

“It looks like you’re overworking yourself on a case you’re not in charge of,” Carter replied, hefting his backpack up on his shoulder to keep it from sliding off. “Look, Andy,” the lieutenant sighed. “You don’t have to do this. I know you want to prove yourself or whatever, but you’re just making yourself useless by not taking a break.” Andy frowned and looked back down on the pictures. One of them was of a severed arm with missing fingers. “Go home.”

“Oh, come on, Lieutenant,” Andy protested. “I’m so close to finding something.” He picked up one of the documents. “The answer has to be in here somewhere. I’m sure of it! I just need to find out where.”

“You’re not going to find shit if you’re too tired to function,” Carter argued and picked the document out of Andy’s hand, before he placed it on top of one of the stacks. “And either way, this fucking case is no closer to being solved. It’s been almost three years! There’s no new evidence, and the guy hasn’t fucked up yet. There’s no way you’re solving it just by looking through some files.” The lieutenant glanced at the clock hanging over on the far side of the bullpen. Andy knew it was close to 11pm. “You’re not going to catch him today. Go home.”

Andy clenched his jaw and took the document the lieutenant had placed on the stack and placed it back in the folder it belonged to, before he closed it and placed it in the evidence box. He gathered everything else, too, before he glanced up at the lieutenant.

“I know I can find it, Carter,” he said.

“The only way you’re finding anything is if you summon the fucking devil,” Carter retorted. “Now, get that shit in the evidence locker and go home. You’re done for today.” He looked at the watch, again. “And don’t come back before Thursday,” he added.

Andy stared at him. “That’s two days from now.”

“Oh, how observant you are, Greene,” the lieutenant said sarcastically. “Maybe you should become a detective?”

Andy ignored him. “You can’t just put me on the bench!” he exclaimed as he got up. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow!”

“Should’ve thought about that before you decided to work two shifts today,” Carter said and moved towards his desk in the corner of the room. “I’ll talk to the cap tomorrow morning when she shows up,” he told him over his shoulder.

Andy grumbled to himself as he picked up the box and headed for the evidence room. He passed a couple of other detectives on the way, who all gave him amused looks. It grated on his nerves. They all knew this case was incredibly important, but because it had taken so long for them to find anything of importance, they all had seemed to give up.

Almost three years. That’s how long it had taken the New Orleans police to find absolutely nothing at all. They found the bodies, but other than that, there was no trace of the guy. Someone had even speculated that they were dealing with a ghost or some other vengeful spirit. Andy didn’t believe in that type of thing, so he knew there had to be an explanation for it. The crime scenes looked too clean. The only thing was the bodies themselves, and apparently, even those weren’t of much help if the medical examiner had anything to say about it.

Andy sighed as he used his keycard to get inside the evidence room and made his way through the shelves until he found the right one and placed the box down. He made his way back out, momentarily wondering if he could just bring one of the documents home with him, but he pushed down the thought. No need getting kicked off the team by being stupid. The lieutenant meant well by sending him home, and while he would’ve preferred to stay and keep reading, he knew he could use a break. He’d been working since the morning, having decided to go through the old descriptions of locations and techniques once more, just to see if there was anything he’d overlooked after the first five times he’d read them.

He waved to the lieutenant as he got his things. Carter smiled approvingly and gave him a nod in return, before he turned his gaze back to the monitors in front of him. Andy scoffed to himself as he grabbed his keys from the desk and headed out of the bullpen and out into the cool, night air.

It was colder than usual, that night. Not that New Orleans got too cold, but it was chilly enough that he pulled his jacket a little tighter around himself as he headed down the steps to the sidewalk and walked towards his apartment building. At least it wasn’t raining, for once.

He passed by one of the streets where he’d been chasing the two assholes six months earlier. The two who’d turned into fucking animals. Literally. Not that the others believed him when he said it. He’d ended up at the shrink a week later when he’d kept telling the others that the two guys had turned into animals after they’d been put in the cruiser. Winston was the only one who’d looked like he believed him, but even he had ended up brushing it off as a hallucination after a while.

Andy shook his head. The chase had been intense with a lot of officers involved, as well as an almost-crash where the short guy had almost been run over by a fucking bus. From what Pierce had told him, he and Hensley had met the short one in the empty house in the bayou just a few days prior to the chase. Apparently, they were on their honeymoon at the time, which made it sound very unrealistic that they would be involved in a disappearance. It could happen, of course, but it was unlikely.

The smug smile on the tall brunet still gave him chills when he thought about him, though. Both of them had something wrong about them. That was probably the only thing that made him start believing it had been some sort of hallucination on his part. It felt like they weren’t actually looking like they should, somehow, and while he couldn’t put his finger on what it was, that smile kept flashing in the back of his mind as something of significance.

He got his keys out of his pockets and unlocked the door to his apartment building and got inside. He hurried up the stairs until he got to his apartment and got inside, closing the door behind him. It wasn’t the biggest place to live, but it was enough for someone who had no intention of getting a significant other any time soon. He’d never understood relationships, himself. Not the romantic kind, at least.

He flipped the light switch by the door, revealing the mess that had been hidden in the dark a moment earlier, before he kicked his shoes off and hung his jacket on the coat peg. He should really tidy it up a bit, but again, he didn’t have time for visitors, so he didn’t see why he should bother.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he made his way farther into the apartment. He turned on the tv and slumped down on the couch before he fished it out of his pocket and checked the message. Apparently, Winston had heard about him not being allowed back on the precinct the next day, and had been put on the task as his personal babysitter, also known as keeping Andy busy so he didn’t end up doing something stupid, like for example trying to sneak back into the precinct to keep working on his day off.

Andy looked up at the news, seeing nothing interesting for the time being. He got up, shuffled over to the small kitchen and tossed a frozen pizza in the oven. He shuffled back to the couch and sat down, curled his legs up and pulled a blanket over himself. Without the case he had more or less nothing else he’d like to do. He hated watching TV. There was never anything interesting on, and the news were generally just depressing and a waste of time. Andy loved working. It was basically his hobby at this point, and the case of the serial killer that had been terrorising New Orleans was incredibly interesting.

Carter’s comment about summoning the devil made Andy snort. Personally, he thought the case would be easy solve if they all pulled their weight a bit more. None of the others on the team seemed interested in trying to find the guy, anymore, even if they still actively found bodies matching the killers M.O. Summoning the devil himself seemed completely unnecessary, and of course impossible. Demons didn’t exist.

Andy reached over and grabbed his laptop from the coffee table and opened it. He went to his search engine before he paused. What had he been going to search for? How to summon a demon? The thought made him scoff, but soon, he found himself typing it in. It only took a second before the screen was filled with references from different shows and movies.

One result stood out from the rest. He moved his cursor over and pressed the link, coming face to face with a picture of what looked like a wooden sculpture of a deer-man.

“Cultus Cervi et Anatis,” Andy read out loud, looking through the website. He couldn’t believe someone in a cult would make a website for it, but the more he looked into it, the more he realised that’s exactly what someone had done. It gave information about the demons—because apparently there were two of them, they were worshipping, as well as contact information of the priests in charge of the cult. Well, ‘religion’. The Religion of the Deer and the Duck, for some reason. It sounded incredibly strange. It was based in Portland of all places, and they seemed to have regular, in-person interactions with the two creatures.

The information wasn’t too in-depth about them, though. There was a picture of a deer skull for the deer demon, which called itself ‘The Radio Demon’. He was the main one out of the two, or the one who visited them more frequently. The other one, the duck, was explained to be Lucifer himself. The fallen angel. The devil. The King of Hell.

And these people were more focused on the damned deer? Andy snickered to himself and kept scrolling through the pages. It looked surprisingly well-made, like it had been created by a graphic designer or some other specialist. Professional and caught your attention. But no information that he felt like he needed. Nothing about what the demons could do, either, other than the short, little paragraph about each of them.

Andy stared at the contact information. The website didn’t say anything about how to summon them. Not that Andy would summon a couple of demons. That made no sense. He was a fucking detective. Summoning demons to try and solve a case felt like the stupidest idea he’d ever had. It hadn’t been his idea, though. And in some ways, Carter might’ve been right. If there was anyone that could help them, demons might. Maybe one of the killer’s victims were in Hell and the two of them could ask them who killed them?

Andy rolled his eyes and closed his laptop, before he placed it down on the table, again. He got up when his phone alerted him that the pizza was done. He almost burned his hand taking it out of the oven. He kept trying to figure out what he could do the next day, instead of ending up just trying to ditch Winston and go back to work.

He sat down on the couch with his steaming hot food and tried to focus on the TV. His eyes flickered down to the closed laptop every so often.

He was not going to try and summon a demon.

“Fuck,” Andy said and placed the plate down and picked up the laptop, again. “What the fuck are you doing, Greene,” he grumbled as he unlocked it. “You’re not summoning a fucking demon.” He once again found himself staring at the phone number to the main priest.

He shut the laptop. He opened the laptop again, immediately. Cursing, he got his phone and saw it was almost midnight.

“Tomorrow,” Andy told himself. “Call the guy tomorrow.” He put his phone down. He picked up the phone and cursed at himself as he typed in the number from the website. He stared at the numbers on his phone screen and the big, green button. “You can’t call some random guy in the middle of the night,” he berated himself and locked his phone. He tossed it to the other side of the couch so he wouldn’t try to call, again.

He kept his laptop open and placed it on the coffee table. He’d scrolled back up and away from the contact information, only seeing the picture of the wooden sculpture with the deer skull covering its face. When he looked closer, he saw what looked like a small rubber duck with a hat sitting on its shoulder.

A deer and a duck.

A deer and a fucking duck.

A tall guy and a short guy one moment, a deer and a duck the next.

If fucking couldn’t be.

It clearly wasn’t either. It was a coincidence. He’d just heard about the two newlyweds from the bayou, and about them managing to escape Pierce and Hensley, and then they’d been called about the deer and the duck in the restaurant. A strange coincidence, of course. And either way, the cult was based in Portland, not New Orleans.

Portland was two hours behind New Orleans.

He picked up his phone, unlocked it and pressed the green button, before he placed the phone to his ear and waited. His heart was racing in his chest as he heard the dial tone. It took a moment, but then he heard someone answer.

“Hello?” the guy on the other end said hesitantly.

“Hi,” Andy said, feeling like he sounded a lot more frantic than he should. “Uhm, I’m sorry to disturb you this late at night,” he continued. He tried to channel his inner officer. He’d called a lot of people late at night. This was just personal, which made it feel a lot more awkward. “My name is Andy Greene. Am I talking to Hank Johnson?”

“That’s me, yes?” Hank said, still sounding suspicious. “Can I help you?”

“Erh, well,” Andy muttered. “I was just looking through the internet, as one does, on the search for clarity.” He hated himself in that moment. Truly. What the actual fuck. “And I found your website.”

“My website?” Hank questioned.

“The religion?” Andy inquired. “The one with the deer and the duck?”

The line was quiet for a long moment. Andy almost thought the guy had hung up on him.

“We have a website?” the man asked quietly. It sounded like he was talking to someone else. Andy could hear them mutter in the background but he couldn’t make out what they said. “I guess we have a website,” Hank huffed. “You’re seeking clarity, you said?”

“Yes,” Andy confirmed. More like looking for someone who could help him find a serial killer. “I’m not doing so great, and then I found your website, and I felt like I’d found my purpose,” he continued, feeling like he was talking straight out of his ass. He just hoped Hank didn’t see through his bullshit. “I’m currently in New Orleans. I was thinking of maybe helping spread the word about your religion and possibly starting up a satellite here.”

“Oh,” Hank said.

“But I think I might want to see these demons for myself before I do,” Andy continued when Hank didn’t say anything else. He felt like the man would end up hanging up on him.

“You’re free to join us on our next sermon, if you’d like?” Hank offered.

“It’s a bit too far for me to travel, sorry,” Andy said. He wasn’t going to go to fucking Portland just to see a demon. “Lot to do at work and such,” he added. “But if you could guide me through how to summon the deer, I could try it myself. We’ve got quite a few voodoo stores and such, so if there’s anything special that I need, I can just go shopping.”

The line went quiet, again. “I don’t know,” Hank muttered before he let out a long sigh. “Look, Mr. Greene. We have an arrangement with the two of them, and I don’t know if they’re up for another trip to Earth this month. They’ve got busy lives, the two of them.” Andy felt his scam-indicator spark to life. Who in their right minds thought demons were busy? “You could try, of course, but don’t keep your hopes up. They’re usually not too keen on travelling to our realm unless they have to, nowadays.”

“Nowadays?” Andy questioned.

“We had an incident a few months back,” the man told him. “Nothing to worry about, of course. But they decided to stop visiting more than necessary after that.” Hank cleared his throat. “I’ll send you a picture of the page from the book we’re using with the symbols you need. I hope you’re not squeamish.”

Andy had seen a lot of shit, so he wasn’t, and he told the guy as much. The man then continued to describe that they usually only summoned the demons if they really needed to, or if the demons wanted them to. It sounded so much like a scam that Andy had to try and stop himself from hanging up on the guy. Instead, he listened to the man explaining what to do, and also how to behave with their masters. He wrote it all down on his notepad, and not too long after, he was sent a picture of a page with what looked like a circle painted in blood.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Hank said as Andy was about to hang up. “If you really want to meet them, you should use human blood for the circle.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Andy said, almost dropping his pen.

“Human blood,” Hank repeated. “That’s what they told us, at least. You can just buy some pig’s blood in the store, of course. Human isn’t actually needed unless you really want to get in contact with them.”

“I see,” Andy said, feeling his nerves start to act up again. Maybe the killer was part of this cult? Not that Hank had told him anything about there being a satellite in New Orleans, of course, but maybe? “I’ll see what I can do,” he muttered. “Thank you so much for the information, Mr. Johnson. I really appreciate it.”

“We’ll send you a cloak,” Hank said. “Just give me your address.”

“I’d like to meet them first,” Andy replied. “Just to make sure, you know? I’ll send you my address when I know I’ll be joining you.”

“Alright,” Hank said, sounding suspicious again. Andy had all the information he needed, anyway. “Best of luck to you.”

“Thank you. Sorry, again, for the late evening call.”

“Don’t worry about it. I hope I’ll hear from you, and that they don’t kill you,” the man said and hung up.

“What?” Andy said as he looked at the screen, making sure that Hank had actually hung up and wasn’t still on the line. Andy thought he’d heard him wrong, but the more he thought about the conversation, it sounded like there was something else to the cult. Things that people weren’t talking about. Things that someone wouldn’t add on a website.

Andy put his phone down and saw his now-cold pizza on the plate. He didn’t feel hungry, but he took a couple of bites just to get some nutrients. Well, whatever nutrients there were in frozen pizza, that is.

He put the rest in the fridge and went over the list of things he needed to get, and decided he would bring Winston with him just to feel a little safer. Demon summoning wasn’t something Andy wanted to do alone. It felt too freaky, actually, and he knew he should never have called the damned cult at all, and yet, he felt like he’d made up his mind. He had nothing better to do during his day off. He might as well summon a demon or two.

Going to bed, he still tried to understand what in the world he was actually doing with his life. Demon summoning over good old-fashioned police work? Fucking lame. Or, not lame. Creepy as fuck, and he hoped no one would ever find out about it. Not Winston, either, which he knew he would. The older detective was a wonderful guy, and Andy did look up to him, sort of, even if he tended to be a bit clumsy. They were buddies. Andy didn’t want to summon a demon with him, though. The problem was that he wouldn’t be able to get the things he needed without Winston there. His colleague was relentless when it came to staying by his side to prevent him from going to the precinct.

He couldn’t sleep that night and felt extra grumpy when he heard his phone ring the next morning. He didn’t answer it, instead letting the caller hang up. A message popped in soon after. Andy buried his face in his pillow and groaned, before he patted the nightstand beside him until he found the phone. He unlocked it before he looked up from the pillow, and saw that Winston was on his way over. Andy let his head flop back into the soft fabric and almost fell asleep, again.

That’s until he remembered what he’d done the night before.

His eyes shot open and he felt like he all the energy in the world as he got out of bed, and hurried to get dressed. He sent a message to Winston and told him to meet him at the supermarket close to the precinct, before he grabbed one of the leftover pizza slices and made his way out of the apartment. He had work to do, and while it wasn’t the same as looking through documents and other evidence, it was better than sitting on his ass the entire day and not do anything productive. If you saw summoning demons as being productive, at least. It was better than nothing.

He got out onto the street and found the picture of the list on his phone. It was the blood that was the main thing he needed. The rest was more for the aesthetics according to Hank. The candles had been quite important too, though, if Andy understood the man right.

The supermarket wasn’t that far away, and it didn’t take him much more than twenty minutes to get there. He could’ve taken the car, but the fresh air helped wake him up a bit more. He still couldn’t quite believe he was doing this shit.

He saw his babysitter as soon as he stepped into the parking lot. The man smiled at him where he stood leaning against the wall, waiting for him. Andy tried his best to look happy to see him, but it only reminded him that he’d been banned from the precinct for the day for working too much. Because of course, they needed more people to slack off.

“Andy,” Winston greeted him. Andy nodded back. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Andy grumbled as he stepped into the store. “Come on. If you’re gonna babysit me, you might as well help me out.”

“Yeah, I was wondering what we’re doing shopping this early in the morning,” Winston said. Andy led him through the aisles until he found some candles. He grabbed seven of them and kept going. “Having a lady friend over?” his colleague joked.

Andy glanced at him before he found someone who worked at the store. “Excuse me?” he asked the girl. She looked extremely bored where she stacked boxes of tomato sauce. When she heard him, she plastered on a fake smile and turned to him. “I need pig’s blood. Do you have any?”

“What the fuck, Andy?” Winston blurted out.

The girl’s smile vanished as she stared at him, before she pointed towards the freezers. “Should be over there, somewhere.”

“Thank you,” Andy muttered and walked in the direction she’d pointed. Winston followed him.

“What the fuck are you planning, Greene?” he hissed. Andy didn’t say a word as he found the freezers. He started looking through them one-by-one, trying to figure out where it was more likely that the blood would be. “What kind of sick shit have you come up with, now? You can’t just—”

“Hold these,” Andy interrupted him. He gave Winston the candles. “It’s called being desperate,” he answered his colleague’s question and opened the freezer where he’d finally spotted the bag of blood. He picked it up, grimaced at it and closed the freezer. “Come on,” Andy told Winston as he headed for the check-out.

“Desperate?!” Winston exclaimed as he hurried after him. “You’ve lost your fucking mind, man!”

“I don’t have anything better to do,” Andy said.

“You could fucking sit on your couch and play a game, for once,” Winston retorted. “Didn’t you buy a playstation six or some shit when you broke your leg last year?”

“I did, and it’s not for me,” Andy said and grinned at the woman at the check-out. He placed the blood on the conveyor belt and nodded for Winston to put the candles on, as well.

The woman scoffed. “Summoning a demon?” she asked playfully.

“Yup,” Andy said curtly, hearing Winston splutter out another curse. The woman looked like she didn’t believe him, so she just laughed and gave him a bag. Andy paid for the items and put them in the bag, before he said his goodbyes to the woman and headed for the door. He could hear Winston stomp after him. He ignored his continuous grumbles and got his phone out, looking through the list of things he still needed. It seemed pretty straight-forward. “I have to go to a voodoo shop,” he told Winston.

“No, you don’t,” Winston scoffed.

“I need incense,” Andy continued as he headed for the bus stop.

“Andy.”

“Wince.”

“How the hell did you come to the conclusion that you’re going to try and summon a fucking demon?” Winston asked when they got to the other side of the parking lot. Andy saw the bus going into the city centre and waved at it to make it stop for him. “You don’t even believe in the supernatural!”

“Do you?” Andy asked. Winston hesitated. Andy turned to look at him. “Wait, really?”

“Some things can’t be explained by science,” Winston muttered as he followed him onto the bus. They found a couple of seats at the back of the bus and sat down.

Andy raised an eyebrow at him before he sighed. “Well, I’m mostly doing this because I don’t have much else to do when I’m not allowed to do the thing I love,” he explained, looking at the bag in his hand. He took out one of the candles and turned it over. Something occurred to him. “I have no idea where to do it, though. I don’t think I should smear blood all over my fucking floors. The landlord’s gonna kill me.”

“Then don’t do it,” Winston said. “You shouldn’t fuck around with demons, man. You really shouldn’t.”

“You’re talking like you’ve met demons before,” Andy huffed and placed the candle back in the bag. When Winston didn’t answer, Andy glanced at him. “You’re not thinking about that fucking duck, are you?”

Winston’s shoulders crept up under his ears. “That fucking duck could be the devil himself. I swear,” he mumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I saw it in its beady, red eyes. You should’ve seen the way it looked at me, Andy. It was a demon.”

“I’m sure it was,” Andy said.

“You don’t believe me,” Winston grumbled.

“I’m starting to.”

“No, you’re not.” Winston leaned back in his seat and sighed. “You’re really going to do this?” Andy nodded, and his colleague pursed his lips. “I know a place you can try.”

Andy frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Winston said quietly. “An old house in the bayou. Like, really old. Not just from the nineties, you know. Probably from the fifties or older, even.”

Andy glanced at him. “How do you know about some random house in the bayou?”

Winston shrugged. “I used to hang out there when I was a kid. Mom liked to bring us on some hikes out there, and we found it one day. It was abandoned.”

“It’s not the house that the two guys Hensley and Pierce met lived in, is it?” Andy asked.

“No, something newer, I think. Old fishing hut down by the water.” Winston ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I’ll join you trying to summon that demon of yours. Might be nice to be two.”

Andy didn’t want to admit it was tempting to have someone else with him, but he felt like he should summon the demon by himself the more he thought about it. That way, he could feel like less of an idiot if it didn’t work. Winston didn’t seem to think it was that strange, thankfully, but he’d rather not have him there, anyway. The guy he’d talked to the day before had told him he could potentially get killed, and he didn’t want that to happen to Winston. The guy had two kids and a wife, after all.

“Nah, just tell me where it is, and I’ll find it myself,” Andy told him. “You’ve done enough by just keeping me company and helping me out. You don’t need a demon summoning on your conscience, too.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?” Winston asked. “This shit isn’t something you should just fuck around with. It could be dangerous.”

“I don’t really think anything’s going to happen, anyway,” Andy confessed. “It’s just to say I’ve tried it and then I’ll go back to solving the case like normal.” He looked at the buildings they were driving past through the window, wondering what would happen if it actually worked. He’d probably have an existential crisis. “I’ll be fine.”

“I could show you the place, at least,” Winston said. “We could take two cars and I’ll just leave before you do it?”

“Maybe,” Andy muttered, feeling like just having Winston show him the place might feel a little less creepy than just walking aimlessly around the bayou searching for a specific, old house where he may or may not end up trying to summon a demon.

The bus slowed down and the two of them got up and out onto the sidewalk. Andy took the lead as they made their way through the streets and towards Bourbon Street. They found one of the more legit voodoo shops and headed inside, seeing shelves filled to the brim with things that none of them wanted to know what really was.

“Hello,” Andy said to the woman behind the counter.

“Good morning,” she greeted him with a smile. “What can I help you with, today?”

Andy took in the strange assortment of everything from bones, to gris-gris bags and voodoo dolls hanging from the ceiling, and what looked like potions and other things standing in the shelves. “I’m looking for some incense,” he told her with a kind smile.

“Oh, I see,” the woman said and moved over to one of the shelves. “Any special kind of incense?”

“He’s trying to summon a demon,” Winston said dryly.

The woman stopped dead in her tracks and turned to them. “What?”

“Wince,” Andy hissed.

“Do you have anything that could work for that?” Winston continued, ignoring him.

Andy turned to the woman, who looked more and more alarmed. “Sorry about my friend,” he said, trying to calm her down. “He just doesn’t know how to joke properly,” he spat, glaring at his colleague. “I just have some spirits living in my apartment that likes to destroy things, so maybe something that could calm them down?”

The woman continued to stare at him, before she glanced between the two of them. She cleared her throat and took something out from the shelf, before she went back to the counter. She swallowed thickly and put the incense sticks down.

She met Andy’s eyes. “Demons are tricky beings,” she told him, before something flashed over her expression, like she suddenly remembered something. “They can be pure evil, or they can be remarkably sweet. It all depends on the individual.”

“Sweet?” Winston whispered incredulously as Andy paid for the incense. “What the fuck could be sweet about a fucking demon?”

The woman pushed the incense over the counter and Andy put them in the bag with the rest of it, before he noticed a couple of engraved ribs hanging in the back of the shop. He bit his lip before he glanced at the woman.

“You don’t have deer bones, by any chance?” he asked.

The woman pursed her lips and looked at the bones, before she went over to them. “I have a few different ones,” she told him. “Jaw bone, leg bone, ribs.” She informed him as she pointed to each one. “I also have some powdered bone if you need.”

“What about that engraved one?” Andy asked.

The woman took it and brough it over to the counter. “It’s a special one,” she said.

“Yeah, it looks pretty nice,” Andy commented. “I’ll take it.”

The woman nodded and let him pay for it, before Andy took it and placed it with the rest of his things. He hoped the deer demon would be pleased, at least. If he existed, that is. Damn, spending money on something so fucked up as bones felt so useless when he had no idea if demons actually existed or not.

“Be careful, sir,” she told him once he was about to tell her goodbye. “I mean it. If you really are going to try and summon one, try and summon the right one.”

Andy sighed. “Well, from what I’ve been told, this is the best one,” he told her. She got a strange look in her eyes, as if she was thinking of someone special, before she smiled a little and nodded.

“Then I hope it’s worth it,” she said.

“I hope so too,” Andy agreed. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

Winston smiled at the woman as Andy moved past him and into the street. The two of them started walking back toward the bus stop. Andy peeked into the bag, seeing the treasures he’d gathered that morning, wondering if they really had the power to summon anything at all. It all just looked like freaky shit that wasn’t actually that special.

“You got everything?” Winston asked him, and Andy pulled his phone out, again.

“Technically, the only things I needed were the candles and the blood. The rest is just for show,” Andy muttered as he looked through the list. He felt like he’d used enough money on this idiocy, so he decided to call it a day. “Did you want to show me that house?”

“Yeah. Just give me an hour so I can go get my car, and then I can meet you here,” he said, showing Andy the screen. “Takes about twenty to thirty minutes to drive there.”

“Sure,” Andy said. “Just send me the directions and I’ll meet you there.”

They got to the bus stop. Winston’s bus arrived first and left, which was fine. Andy considered going by the precinct, but realised he had nothing special he needed to do there, so he discarded the idea and decided to focus on getting to the meeting place Winston had told him about.

Andy glanced up at the overcast sky. The priest hadn’t said anything about when he should try and summon the demon. The movies always did it after dark, for some reason. He’d much rather do it in the daylight.

The bus arrived. His thoughts continued to spiral and circle around when and what and where and how all the way to his stop. It didn’t help that he could feel the deer rib get knocked against his leg for every step he took. A constant reminder of what he was going to do.

He decided not to go to his apartment, first, and headed straight for the parking garage. It was right below the apartment building, which was nice when he wanted to get there fast. So, he hurried down into the poorly lit room and found his car. It wasn’t too special. Just a black, electric Volkswagen he’d gotten from his parents after he got promoted a few years back. He got inside and started it up, before he drove out into the street and turned towards the bayou. He checked the map at a stoplight and kept going.

It felt a little surreal. Of all the things he could do on his day off, and he decided to go for summoning a demon. Just because his lieutenant had joked about it. He wanted to say it was just so he could tell Carter that he tried it and that it didn’t work, but that would just make the case feel even more impossible. That, and he’d be the laughing stock for the entire precinct. He’d probably be kicked to the shrink again, which was definitely something Andy wanted to avoid. He didn’t hate therapy, but it was just completely unnecessary for him. He wasn’t crazy. He just had a couple of hallucinations that felt so real he thought they’d actually happened. And it had only happened once. After another long night of trying to find some sort of clue that would lead him to the damned killer.

He sighed to himself and put on the radio. The jazzy tune made him calm down a little. For some reason, his mind kept telling him it was going to work. Of course, it wouldn’t, but his thoughts kept going back to that ‘what if’ kind of scenario. He just wanted to know for sure. He just needed to know that he’d tried literally summoning some entity that he didn’t even believe in. He had to have tried everything so he could calm down and know that he had to wait until the killer made a mistake. He hadn’t for almost three years, so his luck had to run out soon. It had to. If not, Andy didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want the people of New Orleans to worry about a fucking serial killer on the loose. The way the victims died was so brutal, too, which made it worse to think about than other murders that happened in the city.

“This should be it,” Andy muttered to himself as he turned down a dirt road. He checked the map and kept driving for another few minutes until he found what looked like a parking lot. Not a big one. It looked like there was barely enough space for more than one car.

He stayed in his car while he waited for Winston to arrive. He played a couple of rounds of sudoku and listened to the radio. The bag full of blood and bones was visible in his peripheral, and he ended up leaning against the window and turning his head enough that he couldn’t actually see it. He kept glancing at the road, waiting for Winston to get there.

He got a notification and read it, seeing it was from the man himself. Apparently, he’d gotten into a bit of an argument with his wife but was on his way. Andy sighed and decided to wait outside. It was cold, but not bad enough to want to sit in the car with the bag right there.

He got out and leaned against the door, glancing at his watch a few times, before he decided to walk around, instead. He felt restless as he wandered. Every bird he saw made him jump, like he expected to see someone standing in the shadows of the trees. A man with a grin, perhaps? A short man with blue eyes that looked wrong? A deer or a duck standing behind the bushes, ready to attack? He wouldn’t care much about the duck attacking him, though. The deer was much worse given the antlers.

He pulled out his phone, again, sending a message to Pierce about how much he’d love to be at the precinct right about then. He’d known Cameron for a long time. They’d gone to the academy together, and ended up becoming great friends. Pierce had told him he should try becoming a detective, and Andy had listened to him and signed up. He just needed to help solve this case, and he would probably be promoted to a proper detective instead of just a trainee.

Pierce replied a few minutes later, telling him he needed the break. Andy rolled his eyes. Why did people have to be so thoughtful and kind? Why couldn’t they just let him overwork himself as he pleased like other police departments did?

The sound of tires on gravel made him look up. He spotted Winston’s car come around the bend in the road, before it came to a stop behind the Andy’s. Winston got out.

“I almost hoped you’d changed your mind,” he said.

“Not at all,” Andy replied and walked back around his car to grab the bag. His eyes landed on the glovebox. He opened it and took the small multitool he had in there, before he put it in the bag and got out of the car. “How far is the house?”

“Not too far,” Winston said and moved towards the treeline where Andy could see a narrow, overgrown path. He just hoped he would be able to find his way back without Winston there. Good thing he had a GPS. “Fifteen-minute walk, I’d say,” Winston informed him as they moved between the trees. It felt a lot darker than it had been, Andy noted. He wasn’t one who went for walks that often, but this felt almost a bit ominous. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Yup,” Andy said. “It should be everything. I hope it is, at least.”

“Do you want it to work?” Winston asked as they moved down a particularly steep section of the path.

“Not really,” Andy muttered, grabbing onto a tree to help steady himself. “If it doesn’t, I can joke about it while drunk at a Christmas party. If it does, then I’m probably gonna die.”

“Don’t make me worry more than I already am,” Winston huffed.

Andy chuckled. “I’ll be fine. Nothing’s gonna happen,” he reassured him. “Worst case I’ll get some blood on my hands.”

“Well, if I don’t hear from you by midnight, I’m coming back to check on you,” Winston told him. Andy knew he meant it. He actually appreciated it a bit. They were in the bayou, and they did have a serial killer they were trying to catch. If he was unlucky, the killer could be hiding in the abandoned house.

Well, that thought didn’t help his nerves. He wished he’d brought a bigger knife than just the one in the multitool. Or a gun. A gun would be nice.

“It’s just down here,” Winston said and pointed at the treeline in front of them. Andy could see the river between the trees, as well as some old, wooden structure. “Look out for alligators,” he warned. “They were fucking swarming when I was a kid. I can’t believe mom let me play down here.”

“Maybe there were less of them back then?” Andy tried.

“Fuck no,” Winston scoffed. “I had one I called Lumpy, actually. A mean bastard. Saw him bite off the leg on one of the others, once. Had this big lump on his back that looked like an old gunshot wound that hadn’t healed properly.” He sighed. “I miss that guy.”

“He’s not still around?”

“Haven’t seen him since I was here last,” Winston said. “He could be? I think he was pretty old, already, though. Might be dead.”

“Too bad,” Andy muttered. “I’d like an introduction.”

“I’m sure you would,” Winston drawled. “There’s one on the path ahead of us, by the way.”

Andy glanced up, seeing that there was indeed an alligator in their path. It lied there, growling as they approached. Winston motioned for Andy to follow him around it, and the two made their way off of the path and around the animal, before they went around it and back up onto the trail. Andy kept an eye on the prehistoric creature until he knew they were far enough away that he didn’t need to worry about it starting to chase them.

“The fact that you’re afraid of birds and not alligators is insane, dude,” Andy commented.

“I just think they’re disgusting, that’s all,” Winston said as they reached the small house by the water. It had a dock going out over the river, as well as what looked like some old fishing nets hanging around. It definitely looked old. Possibly older than what Winston had first thought. “I can’t even touch one without feeling like I want to freak out.”

“I noticed,” Andy huffed as he stepped up the few steps onto the porch. The wood creaked dangerously under his feet, and he stepped extra carefully. He’d rather not fall through the dock and end up in the water. “Is it locked?”

“No,” Winston said and stepped past him. He pushed the door open. It looked like it was seconds away from falling off of its hinges and Andy realised how old the structure really was. It was on the verge of collapse. “See? Open.” His colleague walked farther into the house.

It wasn’t big. Not at all. It consisted of one big, main room, and two doors leading to a tiny kitchen and an equally tiny bedroom. There was no furniture except a couple of boxes and an old, wooden chair by one of the broken windows. The floor itself looked rotten all the way through. Andy guessed water had leaked through the ceiling, as well as through the windows. Add a few decades, and the house had decayed to the point that Andy was a bit worried about staying in there for longer than strictly necessary.

“It’ll do,” Andy said and put the bag down on one of the crates. He got his phone out and went to the picture he’d gotten from the priest. He wondered if the circle had to be perfect, or if it didn’t matter too much. He wasn’t the best at drawing. “Do you want to stay here while I prepare, or are you leaving?”

“I could help you out,” Winston said while he moved around the room, testing the floorboards. “I think you should draw the circle somewhere around here.” He pointed at the floor at a spot that looked slightly sturdier than the rest. “Seems like it should hold pretty well, at least.”

Andy got the blood out of the bag, as well as the multitool. He should’ve brought a jar or something to keep the blood in while he painted. And a paint brush, actually. That would’ve been nice.

“Hold it like this,” Andy said and made Winston hold the blood bag upright, before he picked the knife out of the multitool and carefully made a cut along the top of it. He put the knife away and placed the tool in his pocket, before he looked at his phone screen. “Crouch,” he told Winston, who did as he was told. Andy got down on his knees and brushed away some dust from the floor where he decided to draw the circle, before he met Winston’s eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered and dipped his fingers in the thawed blood. Winston wrinkled his nose as he started to draw on the floor.

“I can’t believe it, either,” Winston replied. “Maybe you shouldn’t do it?”

“I’ve already made it this far,” Andy said. “Might as well try it properly.”

Winston grimaced, making Andy snicker as he kept going. He tried his best to get the circle to look as even as possible, before he started on the pentagram in the middle. That one was worse, given the fact that it looked so intricate. There were supposed to be a bunch of other symbols around it, and Andy had no idea where to start. Still, he took his time, silently drawing in the details and making sure that the symbols looked as close to what they did on the picture on his phone as possible. One mistake and it probably wouldn’t work.

When he’d finished the symbols, he drew the bigger sigils outside the ring. Those were a lot easier to deal with, and he finished them quickly, before he added another circle around it. Andy inspected the circles and touched up a few parts of them, just to make sure that they were properly closed.

“There,” Andy mumbled and got up. Winston followed his lead and handed him the bag. Andy didn’t really know what to do with it, other than keeping it around in case he needed to change the symbols or something. He went into the kitchen to try and find something to keep the blood in, checking through the cupboards until he found an abandoned bowl. It would do perfectly, and he grabbed it and went back to the main room where Winston was standing by the summoning circle and looking down at it. “I found a bowl,” Andy announced, holding the bowl up so Winston could help pour the remaining blood into it. “Maybe the demon can drink it as a little snack.”

“Disgusting,” Winston said and put the empty bag down by the crates. “What now?”

“Now I want to clean my hands,” Andy said and put the bowl down on the chair, before he went outside.

The sun had started to go down, apparently, so he hurried down the steps and made sure no alligators were around, before he rinsed off the blood in the water. He dried his hands on his pants and walked back up onto the porch, before he made his way back inside the room.

“Do you have any matches?” Winston asked him.

Andy felt like a complete idiot. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, before he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, I don’t.” How could he have forgotten the damned matches? Of all the fucking things he needed, he needed to be able to light the candles. How stupid can one get?

“Good thing you’ve got your trusty sidekick, then,” Winston giggled and tossed him a lighter. “I thought you might’ve forgotten them. Kate thought I’d started smoking, again, when she saw me take it.”

“That’s what you were arguing about?” Andy asked, checking if the lighter worked. It took a couple of tries, but sure enough, the lighter caught fire and burned steadily.

“That and some other shit,” Winston huffed. “She said I should’ve taken the twins to practice today, and I mean, yeah, probably, but I felt it was more important to help you out with your little attempt at being a satanist.”

“You should’ve taken your kids, man,” Andy said and put the lighter in his pocket together with the multitool, before he stepped back over to the bag and got the candles out. He started placing them on the floor. “And either way, I’m not trying to summon Satan,” he added, as if that made it better.

“You’re not?”

“No,” Andy said. “The website made a very big deal out of saying they weren’t satanists.” He made sure the candles were spaced evenly around the summoning circle, before he got the rib and the incense from the bag and placed the bone down on the chair with the bowl of blood. “I don’t know if they meant it as a joke, but it mentioned wanting to call themselves the Church of Radiology.”

“What kind of demon are they worshipping?” Winston asked.

Andy glanced at him, before he cleared his throat awkwardly. “A deer.” He decided it was better to leave out the duck-part of the cult.

“Ah, I see. That’s why you got the deer rib?”

Andy pursed his lips. “You know, now that I think about it, maybe the demon will get offended if he sees it?”

“Maybe don’t do the rib,” Winston muttered, and Andy took the rib and placed it back in the bag.

“I’ll leave it in the bag,” Andy said.

“Do that,” Winston agreed. He looked at the bloody floor and the candles. “So, that’s it?”

“Should be.” Andy walked around the room. It felt crazy. It felt like a dream. Maybe he never actually woke up after that damned call to the guy in Portland? Maybe he was still sleeping? “Are you going, then?”

“I could still stay if you want me to,” Winston said.

“No, no. I’ll take it from here,” Andy replied. “Go take your kids to practice and I’ll be fine by myself.”

Winston gave him a serious look. “I mean it, Andy. I can stay here if you feel like that’s safer.”

Andy huffed. “I’ll be fine,” he reassured him. “The worst thing that could happen would be getting eaten by an alligator on my way back after literally nothing happens.” He grabbed Winston’s shoulder and escorted him out of the building. “I’m just going to sit here and try and speak Latin for the next few hours, then it won’t work, and I’ll make my way back, hopefully before dark.” He patted Winston’s shoulder once they stood on the porch. “Thanks for helping me out, though. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the lighter.”

“You’d just drive home and get it,” Winston grumbled before he made his way down onto the path. “I’ll come check on you if I don’t hear anything by midnight.”

“I’ll make sure to text you,” Andy said.

“Call me,” Winston said. “I need to make sure it’s you and not some demon duck who decided to use it’s disgusting, little feet to kill you and then steal your phone.”

Andy snorted as he watched his colleague walk away from the run-down house by the water. “I’ll make sure to quack, then,” he yelled after him, only for Winston to give him the middle finger. Andy kept an eye on him until he was out of sight, before he felt his heart speed up in his chest.

He was alone. He was going to try and summon a demon by himself in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a bunch of hungry alligators. What could go wrong?

He pushed down the pessimism and decided to try and stay positive instead. He made his way back into the house and closed the door carefully behind him, feeling like he needed the extra protection in case the serial killer really was around there. He didn’t like the thought of it, at least, and while the door gave him as good as no protection, it would warn him if someone tried to sneak up on him.

Andy got the lighter out of his pocket and stepped over to the candles. He lit them one by one, making sure they were burning properly before he got the incense and lit them up, too, making the room fill up with a strange, herbal scent he couldn’t quite distinguish. It didn’t matter. He just hoped the demon wouldn’t hate it.

He ended up back on his knees in front of the summoning circle and got his phone out of his pocket. Hank had sent him the words in a text message, as well as the pronunciation of each of them. He ended up reading it internally a couple of times, first, before he started to say them out loud. It felt clunky and it sounded nothing like Latin even to his own ears, so he started googling the words, instead, letting the translator read them out for him so he could learn them. By the time he could say the words properly, the sun had gone down and the room was only lit up by the candles. He could hear the sound of the alligators grumbling and hissing outside the house, and his mind seemed to have fun playing tricks on him, making him hear footsteps.

He didn’t dare look up in case he caught someone looking at him through the window. He really fucking wished he brought a gun. It would’ve at least felt somewhat safer than sitting out there completely alone.

The circle didn’t work, Andy realised after having perfected his Latin. The candles were still burning. He’d been trying for hours at that point, and nothing happened, just like he thought. He sat back and crossed his legs as he stared at the circle. Maybe he needed to believe it? Did he have to actually think there was some fucking other realm somewhere that people went to when they died? He didn’t know. He didn’t think he wanted to know. He knew he didn’t want to be sitting there in the dark trying to get evidence for what happened to people in the afterlife, at least.

He got up from the floor and glanced around the room. The candles cast long shadows stretching over the walls. One of them almost looked like a face, but when he looked around, he saw it was just the reflection from the broken glass in one of the windows.

He sighed and moved to start packing his things. Checking his pockets, he found that the multitool had almost fallen out, so he pulled it out fully and looked at it. And then he felt a chill go down his spine as he kept looking at it, before he looked over to the circle. He looked back at the knife. Then at the circle. The knife.

It glinted in the light from the candles.

If it was urgent, use human blood.

Andy moved slowly as he opened the multitool and found the knife, again. He walked over to the circle and knelt down beside it, making sure that he wasn’t in the way of the candles. He didn’t need to catch himself on fire, too. Not when he was going to…

He cut his palm open before he could think. It didn’t sting immediately, but after a moment, his face contorted at the pain and he let out a moan. Blood ran across his skin. Andy dropped the knife and regretted his decision of cutting himself for a fucking demon summoning. Still, something kept driving him to keep going.

He dipped his fingers in the blood, hissing at the pain as he started to trace over the pig’s blood. He bit out the Latin words, trying to remember them through the pain as he kept drawing. He tried his best to keep his blood from dripping into the circle, as well as trying to not mix his own blood with the pig’s. He might be a ‘pig’ in the sense that he was a cop, but that didn’t mean he should get another creature’s blood inside his wound.

He cursed as he drew over the smaller symbols, before he went back over the rings and the larger sigils. When he was done, he leaned back and sat down on the floor, clutching his hand. He didn’t have anything to clean it with, so he let the blood flow as he continued to chant the words he’d learned. He felt like a complete fool where he sat, bleeding all over himself and talking in a language basically no one used anymore. He should’ve just packed his things and left the moment it didn’t work. He shouldn’t have stayed until it got dark, and he certainly shouldn’t have done something as stupid as cut his palm open in a place where there had to be so much shit and bacteria. If he didn’t die from getting killed by an alligator, he might end up getting tetanus and die from that, instead.

Actually, in hindsight, Andy should’ve sat down on his fucking couch last night and fired up his damned console, and he should’ve played whatever game he had for it instead of calling a priest from a cult, convince himself that summoning a demon was a good idea, walk around and buy things he would need to summon a demon, and then bring Winston into it and have him join him on this crazy shit that Andy really didn’t want anyone to know about. The more he thought about it, the more he started to wonder if he’d really gone mad or if he had some fucking mental health problem. Maybe he should actually go back to the therapist and see what the fuck was wrong with his brain? That would be a lot better than cutting his hand open for literally nothing.

He spat out the last word for the third time. He breathed through gritted teeth as he waited for something to happen.

Nothing did.

And then the flames in the candles burst up, creating a wall of green flames around the summoning circle. Andy yelled out, fell backwards and scurried across the floor to get some distance between himself and the flames. They reached all the way up to the ceiling. He stared at them as some of them turned black. Thick smoke filled the air. It smelled like sulphur. A shape rose up from the circle. It looked like it was created of pure shadow. It blended in with the smoke. Glowing, red eyes blinked from the darkness. They looked around before they settled on Andy lying on the floor.

Andy’s heart hammered in his chest as the flames died down a little. The shadows took shape until they looked like a man. A man with deer ears, antlers, glowing, red eyes, sharp, yellow teeth and a grin so wide it looked like it was painful. But it looked genuine in such a strange way. He wore a monocle and a red coat looking like something out of the early 20^th century, and held a strange-looking microphone-cane-thing. The bob was also not something Andy had expected (he didn’t know enough about demons to expect anything, but you know how it is).

The demon continued to stare down at him as he spun the microphone between his claws and rested his hands behind his back. The grin turned curious.

“My, what do we have here?” the demon rasped, voice crackling in a way Andy had never heard before. It sounded like he was talking on the radio, but a hundred years ago. “You look familiar. Have you tried to summon me before?” The demon tilted its head and narrowed its eyes. “You’re not the one with the girlfriend troubles, are you?”

“What?” Andy croaked.

“No, he looked different,” the demon muttered to himself. “You still look awfully familiar.”

“What?” Andy repeated, because what the fuck are you supposed to say when you find out that summoning a demon works, as long as you use the right tools? Oh, and apparently Heaven and Hell were real, too. Unless Andy was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation for this shit.

“It doesn’t matter,” the demon scoffed. He looked down at him. “What can I help you with, my good sir?” he asked. “I was in the middle of a meeting, and while I do enjoy a trip to Earth, this one was quite important. It must be urgent given your persistence,” the demon continued. “I mean, how many hours have you tried to summon me, now? Five? Six?”

“What?” Andy continued with his amazing vocabulary.

“Hmm,” the demon hummed bemusedly. The smile stayed, but a certain tension settled on his features. “Are you deaf, perhaps? Do I need to talk louder?”

“No?” Andy said.

“Ah, just marvelling at my greatness, are you?” the demon drawled sarcastically. “I do tend to have that effect on humans.”

“What the fuck,” Andy breathed.

The demon sighed dramatically and stepped out of the summoning circle. Andy yelped and dove for the multitool, before he crawled back and kept the knife pointed at the deer-man. The demon snickered at him.

“If you think a miniature knife like that would do any damage to me, I’m sorry to burst your bubble,” he said. Andy didn’t lower it. The demon noticed, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he looked out of the window, ears flickering back and forth like he was listening to something. A moment later, he pulled in a deep breath through his nose. His grin turned impossibly wider. “Are we in New Orleans?”

Okay, Andy had no idea how to get his mouth to function, so when the demon turned to him, he nodded a couple of times. The demon looked ecstatic.

“Oh, how lovely!” he exclaimed. He stepped closer to the window to get a better look. “I didn’t expect getting summoned here.” He spotted the chair with the bowl of blood. “Is this human?” he asked as he picked it up. Andy shook his head. “Deer?” Andy shook his head again. “Swine?” Andy nodded. The demon wrinkled his nose and put the bowl back down. “Shame,” he muttered, before his eyes landed on the hand Andy was clutching to his chest. “Oh, you used your own blood for the circle,” he said.

“I tried with pig’s blood first,” Andy squawked, feeling particularly annoyed that that was the first thing he managed to say.

“And he speaks,” the demon said smugly. “Getting over the worst of the shock?”

Andy wasn’t over the shock by far, but it was slowly getting exchanged for horror for what he’d done, as well as hoping the demon wouldn’t kill him. He really wanted his gun. Or his taser. Or anything that would work against a fucking demon, because from all the Hollywood shit, a regular gun wouldn’t do any damage.

The demon hummed, again, and moved over to the bag. He tilted his head and took the deer rib out. He looked it over, inspecting the engravings. Andy didn’t know if he should say anything or keep his mouth shut. He hoped the guy wouldn’t be mad about the fact that he brought a bone of something from his own species.

“A deer rib!” Shit, Andy thought. The demon didn’t look offended in the slightest. He glanced over his shoulder at Andy with an amused grin. “Is this for me?”

“I—You’re not mad about me bringing a deer bone?” Andy asked, making the demon snicker.

“Heavens no,” the demon huffed. “This is perfect.”

Okay, so Andy had no idea what to make of that, but it somehow made him feel a little bit safer. He lowered his multitool. The demon noticed and smirked. Andy still didn’t put the knife away completely, feeling like it was better to keep it in his hand.

The deer bone vanished in a burst of what looked like shadow-like flames, and the demon turned to him. “Look, as I said, I do have places to be and things to do. What was it that you wanted?”

Andy stared at him. He’d momentarily forgotten why he’d summoned the demon to begin with. The serial killer. The case that Carter had said would need the devil himself to solve. Andy didn’t know if he should actually go for it, or tell the demon that he only needed help with something else, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that maybe he could actually get this case solved. A fucking demon. Probably not the devil, since this was the deer the website had talked about.

Andy made up his mind.

“I need some help,” he said.

“I do have a few conditions when it comes to helping people,” the demon said, putting his hands behind his back. “There was an incident a few months ago,” he added with a grimace. Andy remembered Hank mentioning the same thing. “I also don’t deal with anything relationship related.”

“I’m a detective,” Andy said.

The demon paused, narrowed his eyes at him, before there was a flash of recognition and his eyes widened again. Andy didn’t know what to make of it. He’d rather not know why the demon knew who he was.

A duck and a deer, sitting in a cruiser.

Andy shoved the thought away.

“Go on,” the demon told him.

Andy hesitated. He really needed to solve the case, but it still felt a little too extreme to talk to a fucking demon about it. Was it a breach of confidentiality telling the details to someone who wasn’t a part of their world?

“I’m trying to solve a case,” Andy said. The demon looked interested, so he continued. “It’s a serial killer.” The demon’s grin turned bigger. Andy wondered if the reason why they hadn’t caught the killer was because they’d gotten help from a demon.

“A serial killer?” the demon inquired interestedly.

“Yes,” Andy confirmed. He tightened his grip on the multitool. “A copycat.”

“A copycat?”

Andy nodded. “He’s been copying a serial killer from the thirties,” he informed the demon, who’s eyes widened. His constant smile fell slightly. “A cannibal. We mostly know him as The Bayou Killer. He usually brought his victims out in the bayou and killed them, there. Except for on a few occasions.” The demon stared at him, so Andy decided to continue. “From what we know, the copycat’s been trying to mimic the Bayou Killer’s M.O., but we can’t find him. The documents and information we have from the thirties aren’t detailed enough to figure out what he’s going to do next.” The demon continued to stare at him like a deer in the headlights. “I’m willing to sell my soul to catch him.”

“What?” the demon spluttered. Andy hadn’t anticipated their change in vocabulary, so he shrugged. He didn’t know what else to say about it.

He also didn’t expect the demon to bark out a laugh, and then continue to cackle for a solid two minutes.

“Wait-wait-wait,” the demon giggled, waving at him. “Hah! Give me a moment.” The microphone vanished and the demon brought his hand up and tapped his finger on his left one. Andy realised he had a snake wrapped around it, almost looking like a ring. He could see it moving. “He’s going to love this,” the demon continued to snicker. “This is priceless.”

Andy had no idea what he was talking about, but a moment later, there was a flash of red and golden smoke, and another person was in the room.

“Al?” the short man asked, eyes instantly locking onto the demon. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Were they being disgusting—”

“Oh, relax, dear,” the demon- Al apparently, told the new guy. Andy had a sense of intense familiarity, but he couldn’t place it. Still, he realised this had to be the duck. Or, most likely, at least, which meant the new demon could potentially be Lucifer himself. “Nothing of the sort. You’re not going believe this, though,” he continued, putting his hands on the other demon’s shoulders and turned him around until he faced Andy. “Tell my partner here what you told me, detective.”

“Detective?” the other demon questioned, glancing at Andy. He also seemed to recognise him. “Oh, shit, is that…?”

“It is,” the first demon said. “And just you wait until he gets over the shock. Though, it seems to take him a while.”

“Ah, one of those non-believers,” the other muttered. “This should be good if it has you this excited,” he added, making the first demon grin excitedly. He looked at Andy, sighing. “We are on a bit of a schedule, here, so if you could get over it a little bit faster, I’d appreciate it.”

Andy blinked at the two of them, forcing himself to relax his grip on his knife. He just had to pretend they were completely normal people, and that he wasn’t talking to a couple of demons in the middle of nowhere after dark.

“Right,” Andy breathed and cleared his throat and slowly got to his feet. He cradled his hand to his chest as he stood. “Uhm, as I told your friend, here, I’m a detective for the New Orleans Police Department.” The second demon grinned. It looked extra creepy in the green light from the candles. A mouth filled with sharp fangs and the lack of a nose stood out him. His golden hair almost reminded him a bit of a ducktail where it stuck out at the back of his head. “We’re trying to catch a serial killer.”

“A copycat,” the first demon shot in.

The second demon frowned. “A copycat?”

“Yeah,” Andy said hesitantly, before he met the first one’s eyes. The demon nodded for him to continue. “He’s been copying one of the famous serial killers from this area. The Bayou Killer—”

“No way,” the second demon blurted out. An almost manic smile flashed across his face as he turned to his friend. “Are you serious?”

“I knew you’d love it,” the first demon said, before taking over the explanation. “Our dear detective, here, summoned me to help him find him. Some lack of information, was it?” The two demons looked at Andy.

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “We don’t have enough information to figure out his next move,” he repeated for the second guy. “We need help.”

“And you decided summoning a demon was the best way to get that information?” the second demon asked, tilting his head a little. He crossed his arms over his chest and sat down on one of the crates. Andy looked at the white outfit and cringed, knowing there was likely some spilled blood on the crate after they’d put the blood bag next to it. “I’m not blaming you,” the demon added with a wave of his hand. “It’s very amusing. I’m just questioning the logic.”

“I didn’t think it would work,” Andy admitted.

“Ah, that explains it,” the demon mumbled.

“Can you help me?” Andy asked again, making the second demon glance at the first. The first one snickered, making the second one snort and shake his head. “I just need some information. Maybe you know the guy? Or know the one he’s copying?”

It was the second demon’s turn to bark out a laugh where he sat. Andy watched the two of them snicker and giggle to themselves, which was honestly starting to get pretty frustrating, if he was being honest. They didn’t seem to be taking it seriously, which he probably should’ve expected. He had a feeling demons had little-to-no care for what humans were up to, at least.

“I’m sure he’s in Hell, somewhere,” the second demon giggled, making the first one snort. “What do you say, Al? Are we helping him out?”

“Oh, I think this is absolutely worth staying on Earth for a few days, if you could reschedule those meetings,” the first demon said. The second pulled out what looked like a smartphone and started texting someone, which wasn’t something that worked in Andy’s head. Demons had phones? Wasn’t Hell supposed to be this cramped hole in the ground filled with people suffering? “You can keep your soul, detective, if you let us join your little investigation.”

“Excuse me?” Andy wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. “I don’t think that’s—”

“We’ll stay in the background,” the second one said, sounding like he wasn’t planning on staying in the background at all.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you just told me who’s behind the killings?” Andy asked.

“We don’t know?” the second one said as he looked up from his phone. “I mean, I can do a lot of things, and I could probably get the guy to reveal himself with a snap of my fingers, but we don’t currently know who it is.” He smiled slyly. “And what’s the fun in just doing things the easy way, anyway?”  

“Fun?” Andy spat. “What’s fun about a damned copycat killer?”

“It’s hilarious, actually,” the first one stated like he was enjoying himself more than he probably should.

“And I can’t just have two demons following me around at work,” Andy continued. “People would freak out if they saw you!”

“That won’t be a problem,” the second demon assured him. Andy glanced between the two of them, feeling like he’d made a very big mistake. “What do you say, detective? Do we have a deal?”

“I—what?” Andy whined.

“A deal,” the first one said. “An agreement. We help you out if you let us join you.” The second demon glanced up at the other with what looked like adoration. The words from the woman in the voodoo shop echoed through his head.

Some are remarkably sweet.

Andy sucked in a deep breath and took a chance. “Fine,” he said as he breathed out. “Deal.”

The first demon grinned and took a couple of steps forwards. Andy supressed the urge to back up. The demon held his hand out for him to shake. Andy put away his knife and sighed, before he took it. The demon’s claws curled around his hand.

The room went completely dark for a second, before there was a bright flash of green that lit up the entire space. The demon’s eyes glowed with a yellow-green light. Stitches lit up across his lips. It looked like they kept him from letting his smile fall.

It only lasted a moment before the room turned back to normal. The flames turned back to their regular, orange selves, and everything felt a little less freaky. Even the demons looked less eery.

The demon released his grip on Andy’s hand, before he stepped back over to his friend. The two of them grinned at each other, before they turned back to Andy, who was still trying to figure out what to do next.

“Okay,” he said. “Now, how the fuck am I going to bring you with me without people noticing?”

The two demons snickered. Andy felt his eyes widen as their features started to change. The first demon’s hair shortened and turned brown instead of the pinkish-red it had been. The ears retracted, vanishing together with the antlers. The monocle was exchanged for glasses. Even his coat turned more modern, it seemed. The stripes vanished and left only a dark red.

Meanwhile, the short one’s red eyes turned blue, and his otherwise pale complexion got a little darker. Also, he seemed to grow a nose. The white, tailed coat jacket he was wearing turned into a cream-coloured trench coat covering a black turtleneck.

Andy stared at them, feeling his anger flare to life as he recognised them.

“Oh, you motherfuckers.” 

Chapter Text

“You complete and utter, absolute, fucking cunts,” Andy continued as he stared at the two guys he’d arrested half a year earlier. The two who’d turned into fucking animals. The ones his colleagues had sent him off to therapy because of, since they thought he was fucking nuts. The two assholes who had made him question reality to the point where he, himself, thought he needed therapy.

It had been real. He’d been right all along. He’d told them all, and they hadn’t listened to him.

The deer and the duck.

Demons.

Because of-fucking-course they were.

“Good to see you again, Detective Greene,” the shorter demon said calmly, an almost kind smile on his lips where he sat on the crate. He didn’t look the least bit worried about what he’d done, or what he’d caused.

“Fuck you,” Andy spat. It made the demon grin. “You’re a couple of pieces of shit. Both of you.” The tall one raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue, which Andy took as the two of them knowing exactly what they’d been doing. “You two assholes made me look like a proper, fucking idiot. You know that?” He glanced between them. “They literally had me sent off to therapy just because they thought I’d been hallucinating the two of you being human when we caught you!”

The two of them chortled amusedly and shared a look, like they were remembering it fondly. Andy stared at them.

“Of all the fucking people in the universe, it just had to be you two, didn’t it?” he grumbled, wondering if God was laughing at him. Since, if these two actually existed, the bible was right, right? There was a God he could curse at, and oh fucking hell would he be cursing him for this. “I can’t believe I went through all of this shit just for it to be the two most annoying—” he cut himself off with a hiss when he felt the cut in his palm throb. He cradled it closer to his chest as he cursed. “Damn, I’m such an idiot,” he muttered to himself as more blood dripped down onto his clothes.

He'd talked to some random priest on the phone. He’d gone around New Orleans to buy shit he definitely wouldn’t need unless he decided to summon a demon (which he also thought wouldn’t work). He’d been sitting on the floor in some rotten hut for hours chanting Latin words he had no idea what really meant.

Oh, and he’d cut his own fucking hand open and used his own blood to draw a fucking circle on said rotten floor.

And what did he get from it? Two demons who had recognised him. Why had they recognised him? Because they’d met before. He’d chased them down through the streets of New Orleans and managed to corner them. He’d managed to arrest them, and then he’d gotten in the car to drive them to the station, and he’d looked up into the mirror of the cruiser and met the eyes of a duck and a goddamned buck. He’d freaked out and stumbled back out of the car, making the rest of the officers and detectives rush over to him to see what was wrong, only for all of them to tell him that they’d been chasing down a duck and a deer the entire time. All of them had looked a little bewildered as they’d said it, like they had just realised it, and Andy had decided it had to be a prank. He’d tried to call them out on it, but after a while, he realised they were all completely serious. Even Andy started to wonder if he’d been wrong, but he hadn’t been wrong before, and the logic behind it made no sense.

They’d been chasing two people. Andy had never actually lost them out of sight since he spotted them crossing that damned street. He’d moved cautiously as he snuck up on them laughing in the alley, before he’d confronted them and gotten them arrested..  

Demons. They were both demons, and Andy had disliked them from the moment he saw them.

And then? Then, Andy had—unbeknownst to him, of course, summoned the demons himself.

Why? Because of a joke. Because he wanted to see if a demon could help them. Because he was a little curious if it would actually work. Because he was a particularly stupid person who decided to go for the occult instead of logic and facts, only to fuck up his own world view to the point where he currently thought he was either still asleep, had ended up in a coma, or had died. All of them seemed more likely than the reality of it.  

The second demon got up from his seat. Andy tensed up. He’d made a deal with them. Or, he’d made a deal with the first one. They didn’t own his soul, right? They’d assured him that they didn’t want it, so they hadn’t tricked him into something, had they? Were there any loopholes he had to be worried about?

“Give me your hand,” the demon said and held his hand out.

“Why?” Andy snapped. “Gonna lick it clean?”

The demon’s—now blue, eyes crinkled at the corners. “I won’t.” He still kept his hand out expectantly.

“I would,” the first demon piped up behind him, making Andy send him a particularly disgusted glare. The first demon just continued to snicker to himself.

“What are you gonna do?” Andy questioned, glancing down at the hand. He kept his own cradled against his chest, hoping that the demon standing in front of him would just forget about it and keep his distance.

“Heal it,” the demon said. Andy narrowed his eyes. “No tricks,” he continued, raising his hands placatingly. “I just feel bad you had to cut yourself just to get our attention.”

“We were in the middle of a meeting, dear,” the first demon pointed out, making the second one purse his lips. “I’d have gone earlier if it weren’t for that.”

“Well, either way,” the second demon muttered. “Think of it as making up for what we did last time we met.” The first demon scoffed. Andy continued to squint at him. The second sighed. “Look. We were on our honeymoon, and to be honest, getting arrested would’ve been a really bad way to end an otherwise great vacation.”

Andy had forgotten about that part. The newlyweds in the bayou. The ones Pierce and Hensley had visited. The two the bartender had told them about after that guy vanished. He’d left with the short one, and while the bartender had seemed more worried about the short guy ending up killed or worse (which was what he’d asked about, first, thinking it was the other way around when he mentioned them), he’d still been helpful when he’d told the officers about them.

“Was it you?” Andy asked.

The demon stared at him. The corner of his mouth moved up ever-so-slightly. It seemed like he knew exactly what Andy was talking about. The disappearance. The reason Pierce and Hensley had wanted to bring them in, in the first place. They were suspects, and while none of them had really thought the two of them had done it, especially after what the bartender had said about the two of them, they were still obligated to bring them in for questioning. It hadn’t ended that well.

“Yes.”

Andy glanced back down at the offered hand. “Why?”

“For fun,” the demon said, making a chill go down Andy’s spine. The way he’d said it made it clear to him that the demon had no remorse or care for the guy. Or it was a general disregard for human life that made Andy feel wary. “He was a rapist.”

“So, you killed him?”

“I did,” the first demon butted in.

“I helped,” the second added.

“Where’s the body?” Andy questioned.

“Gone,” the demon said with a dangerous grin. “You’re never going to find it.”

Andy looked between the two of them, before his gaze returned to the hand. It looked completely human. Four fingers and a thumb. His skin was pale but beige instead of whatever colour they’d been when he’d first showed up. They’d been darker, that was for sure, though, it had been difficult to tell in the green light. Still, Andy didn’t trust him. He’d just admitted to being an accomplice to a murder. It should’ve made him want to get the guy locked up, but there he was, knowing it would be impossible, while also actually considering letting the guy look at the wound on his palm.

“I thought as much,” Andy muttered, before he hesitantly reached his hand out and let the demon take it. He almost thought he’d feel claws against his skin like he’d done when the other demon had taken his hand, but no. Nothing would’ve made him think the person in front of him was a demon. Nothing at all. “Why did you turn into animals?”

“To fuck with you, mostly,” the demon told him as he brought his hand up and inspected the wound. The blood kept dripping, and Andy almost wondered if the guy would be mad if some of it hit him. It didn’t look like it bothered him at all, though. “You cut yourself deep, detective,” he said, turning the hand slightly. He met Andy’s eyes. “This is going to sting for a moment, but just bear with me, okay?”

“Right,” Andy grumbled. He watched as the demon brought his other hand up and placed his index finger at the start of the gash. It stung, and then it got a lot worse as golden light danced around the finger. He had to bite back a scream as the light increased in intensity and the demon started dragging his finger over the cut. He couldn’t stop the pained groan, though. It made the demon glance up at him, as if checking out how he was doing, before his eyes fell back down to the task at hand.

“Almost done,” the demon said.

“Fuck,” Andy hissed through gritted teeth, feeling the pain start to diminish until it was all gone. He panted, huffing at the strange, tingling sensation. The demon hummed and inspected his handywork, before there was another flash of light and Andy noticed he wasn’t full of blood anymore. “Damn,” he uttered as he saw his completely healed skin. “You actually healed it,” he said as the demon let go of his hand.

“As I said I would,” the demon replied and held up his right hand. Andy frowned at it. The demon smiled and waited patiently for him to take it. Andy did when he realised he was offering a handshake. “Lucifer Morningstar,” the demon introduced himself. “King of Hell and all that jazz.” Andy stared at him. He hadn’t actually thought it was the Lucifer. As in the fallen angel kicked out of Heaven for giving people free will. “Or the devil, if you will,” he added conversationally, before he nodded to the demon behind him. “And that’s my husband, Al.”

“Salutations,” Al said with a grin.

“Andy Greene,” Andy said, feeling like the existential crisis was starting to hit. “Detective Trainee of the NOPD,” he added, feeling like he had to give his rank just because he’d ended up asking them for help with his work, not with something particularly personal. It made it feel more like some casual business agreement and not a deal between himself, the literal fucking devil and his husband.

Yeah, that was another thing Andy felt was incredibly strange. He knew he shouldn’t be weirded out by the devil being married to some guy named Al, but he’d been so sure he’d heard that the devil was supposed to be in a relationship with someone else. Now, Andy wasn’t homophobic in the slightest. He thought people should love whoever they connected with and that others should leave them alone. This, though, was purely because he’d heard about the devil falling for the first woman or something like that. He didn’t know, and he wouldn’t point it out, either. For all he knew, Lucifer might even be one of those who switched out his partner every now and again the moment he’d grown tired of them, but from the look he’d given his husband earlier, that felt wrong, too.

“Pleasure to finally get properly introduced, Detective Greene,” Lucifer said and let go of him. “I’m actually quite impressed by the fact that you managed to not get influenced by my powers last time we met.” He grinned at Andy with a curious look in his eye. “Not a lot of people are able to do that.”

“Should I be worried?” Andy asked, feeling like it was probably a good thing more than a bad thing, at least when it came to himself and his own safety. If Lucifer could just influence people’s minds until they believed they’d run around trying to catch a deer and a duck having gotten themselves stuck in a restaurant, then he had a feeling the devil had the ability to tell someone to jump off of a cliff and they’d do it.

Lucifer’s eyes scanned over his face for a moment, before he huffed. “No, probably not.” He leaned in a little, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ll keep an eye on you, though.” Andy didn’t like the way he’d said it, but what else could he do? What could Lucifer do? He’d just healed Andy’s hand in seconds, and he’d gotten everyone on the police force to believe they’d been dealing with a couple of animals and not two people trying to resist arrest. “Most likely it’s just that you trust your own instincts a lot. You know what you saw, and you refused to believe anything else.”

“Trusting yourself is important in police work, I’d say,” Andy muttered.

“In some cases,” Lucifer replied mysteriously. “But sometimes you’re wrong, too. Question is if you’re going to admit it, or not.”

“Right.” Andy rubbed his thumb over his healed palm, feeling the tingling under his skin. It was like it itched, but not quite.

“Well then, detective,” Lucifer said, clapping his hands together. “Now, I’m very curious about that serial killer of yours. Should we take this elsewhere, or is this where you live?” the demon gestured to the rotten fishing hut.

Andy grimaced. “No, it’s just some place my colleague knew about,” he informed him, feeling a realisation wash over him. Winston. Winston knew he was trying to summon a demon. If he suddenly showed up with two new people the next morning at work, Winston would end up coming to the right conclusion. He had to. He couldn’t be that dense. He’d even known that the duck was a fucking demon. And, when he thought about it, that was actually quite incredible. “I guess I could bring you home with me, if that’s what you want?”

“Well, I mean…” Lucifer trailed off with a shrug. “I guess we could stay at our own house, too, but if you’re going to tell us more about this case, I’m not opposed to go for a visit at your place.”

Andy stared at him, before he glanced over to Al. “Wait, so you actually live in that house in the bayou?”

“Of course,” Al said as he stepped over to them. “It’s our vacation home.” He glanced at Lucifer with a fond smile. “It’s a special place for the two of us.”

Andy frowned. “Why?”

“A mutual friend lived there,” Lucifer said. Al’s eyes turned a little distant, like he got lost in thought for a moment, before his grin widened and his eyelids drooped down slightly. Andy felt like he was witnessing a prank being made, and that Al had just realised what Lucifer was trying to do. “We took over when he died. Either way, it’s a nice place away from people.”

“I’m sure it’s pretty calm out there,” Andy drawled. “Except for the serial killer, of course.” He wondered if he should ask them if they were behind the killings, too. If they were, this entire case had been a waste of time. It’s not like these guys could be arrested, at least. It could be why they wanted to join him so badly. Either that, or just a general curiosity about police work. It must look pretty pointless from their perspective. “If you’ve been out there for a while, you might’ve heard or seen some things?” Andy tried, making the two demons hum.

“There was that one guy,” Lucifer muttered thoughtfully, turning to look at Al. “Or you thought you heard someone.”

“Ah, yes,” Al said. “I heard someone dying.” Could demons hear people dying? Was that something they did, or was it just that they’d walked past some dying guy and just not checked it out? “On our wedding night.”

Andy blinked at him. “You heard someone dying on your wedding night and didn’t go check?”

“Why would we?” Lucifer asked. “It’s not like we mind people killing each other. It’s pretty common where we live,” he said and moved towards the door to the hut. “And I mean, it’s not that fun having to deal with someone begging you to save them when you just want to surprise your husband with a vacation house, is it?”

Andy would say that saving someone from dying on your wedding night would be pretty memorable, but he guessed he couldn’t really judge them, either. For someone who couldn’t care less about human lives, saving someone was completely pointless. Had they met the dying guy, they would’ve most likely just left him there to die, or put him out of his misery.

“How long ago was it?” Andy asked as he started picking up his things. He left the bowl of blood where it was, but gathered the garbage into the bag he’d brought, as well as the incense that had stopped burning a while ago.

“Almost seven months ago,” Lucifer said, smiling at Al as he stepped up beside him. Al made the deer rib pop back into reality and showed it to Lucifer, who oohed at it and picked it out of his hand to take a closer look. The devil kept looking at the bone as Al walked away from him and over to the bowl of blood.

“I don’t think we had any reports of any murders back then,” Andy said as he watched Al pick up the bowl and make his way over to the summoning circle, before he poured the blood into the circle. It took Andy a moment to realise that he was removing the possibility of anyone else using it to summon them, or copying it. A couple of the candles fell over by the sudden flow of blood washing over them, extinguishing their flames and leaving the room slightly darker than it already was. “Do you think you could bring me to where it was?”

“Do you remember where it was, Al?” Lucifer asked when Al had put the bowl back down and made his way over to him. The devil gave the other demon the rib back.

“Certainly,” Al said as the bone once again vanished into thin air. “Though, I have a feeling the detective would rather check it out in daylight, not in the middle of the night. Whoever was out there shouldn’t have moved unless one of the animals got to him. The bones should still be there, at least.”

“We could check it out in the morning,” Andy suggested.

“Sounds good,” Lucifer said and opened the door. Andy could hear raindrops patter against the wooden dock. “Do you mind driving us home instead, detective?”

“Sure. I guess that’s the least I can do if you’re helping me out with this case.” He glanced at the still burning candles. He had his phone, so there shouldn’t be any problems navigating as long as he used the flashlight, but there was something that stopped him from blowing the flames out. It might be that it would leave him in momentary darkness with two demons. Yeah, that was most likely it.

Lucifer grinned and the flames went out, leaving everything in shadow so dark Andy could barely see anything at all. He could hear the devil chortle and the door to the hut open a little wider. Andy could feel the breeze from outside and pulled his jacket tighter around himself, before he tried to move towards the entrance. He pulled his phone out and saw a message from Winston asking him if he was still alive, which he responded to by saying he was on his way home. After that, he found the flashlight and turned it on, letting it illuminate the two demons standing outside in the rain. Al held an umbrella, keeping it over their heads as they waited for Andy to join them.

“So, a copycat?” Lucifer asked while Andy pulled the door shut behind him. He could feel the raindrops against his hair and combed his fingers through the strands as if to get rid of the worst of the water. It only made it spread. “Sounds like a pretty interesting case.”

“It’s interesting, yeah, but also extremely frustrating,” Andy told him as they moved down from the dock. It felt strange to have them walk beside him looking so human when he knew their real forms. Not to mention it felt equally strange because he’d tried to arrest those exact two guys just seven months prior. Having this kind of conversation with them while walking through the bayou wasn’t something he’d thought he’d ever do. “The lack of information makes it difficult to really pinpoint how far into it he’s gotten. We think he might be trying to copy all of the murders the killer did in the thirties, but as you just mentioned, we don’t know if there are more bodies out there.”

“Or what kills he might be copying in the first place,” Lucifer finished for him. Their shoes squelched against the ground on the path. Andy almost wished he’d brought his boots instead of the sneakers he’d picked. “I can see how that’s a problem.”

“Yeah,” Andy muttered. “Finding a pattern outside the fact that he’s killing people in the same way as the other guy is close to impossible.”

Lucifer stopped, forcing the other two to stop behind him. “Why, hello there!” the devil greeted, placing his hands on his hips. Andy frowned and lowered his light until the beam hit a huge alligator sitting right in their path. It had to be the same as the one Winston had guided him around earlier. “What a nice smile you have,” Lucifer complimented, making the alligator open its mouth a little, as if it was trying to grin. Andy glanced at Al, who just watched the interaction with a dopey grin. The alligator growled threateningly. “Oh, really? That’s very kind, my good sir.”

“What?” Andy asked Al. The demon barely even glanced at him.

“You don’t have to move if you let us step over you,” Lucifer continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sure you were having a nice nap, right?” There was another hiss and growl from the alligator. “Yeah, I thought so. We’re very sorry for disturbing you.”

“We could walk around it, too,” Andy suggested, feeling like he’d much rather step away from the path for a moment instead of trying to step over a damned alligator.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Lucifer brushed him off. “He’s more than happy to let us pass.”

“What?” Andy breathed quietly to himself as Lucifer bent down and gave the alligator a good scratch between the eyes, making it let out a groan. It lowered its head and closed its eyes while Lucifer stepped over it, keeping his long coat from brushing against its back. Al followed close behind, looking completely unbothered about them actually just walking straight over a fucking alligator instead of around it.

“Are you coming?” Lucifer asked after the two of them had gotten to the other side of the animal.

“I can just walk around,” Andy said, mostly to himself, but the other two had clearly heard him. Al raised an eyebrow, and Lucifer shrugged as he turned his back to him and started walking up the path, again. The other demon followed him quietly, keeping the umbrella over them both. “Or I can move right over a damned gator and hope to whoever entity I should hope to that it won’t kill me,” he grumbled, seeing the alligator open one of its eyes and glance at him. “Sorry for disturbing you,” Andy told the alligator, feeling really foolish (and like he was about to shit himself) as he walked over to the side of it, keeping an eye on it as he stepped over its back. It made no move to try and get to him. “If you see Lumpy, tell him Winston said hi,” he added once he was over.

“Who’s Lumpy?” Lucifer asked as he caught up to them.

“My colleague had a favourite alligator that lived around these parts,” Andy explained, feeling a little embarrassed that he’d actually talked to an alligator like the animals had some sort of society with conversations and everything. “It’s quite a few years ago, now, though. It might be dead.”

“I’m sure they appreciate it, anyway,” Lucifer said like it wasn’t at all strange to ask an alligator to greet another. “Some of them live longer than humans think they do.”

“You think so?” Andy asked.

“If they’re good at staying alive, then yes,” Lucifer replied as they reached the part of the path with the steep incline. The devil walked up it easily, as if his shoes had some incredible grip against the muddy ground. The other demon had a bit more trouble, but his long legs made up for it as he stepped up. “I think I know a few of them that got pretty old. They stayed away from humans, usually, but then…” he trailed off as if he caught himself about to say something important, and Andy felt like they were really trying to hide something from him. “It doesn’t matter. They exist, but after a bunch of humans started hunting them for sport, they started hiding from them.”

“Right,” Andy said as he tried to get up the slippery slope. He had just about no grip at all and felt himself start to slide backwards. He let out a small curse as he lost his balance. A hand gripped his upper arm and pulled him up before he could fall. When he looked up, he saw Al smile down at him. “Thanks,” he grumbled while the demon steadied him until the path evened out again.

“No worries,” Al said and let go of him. Andy could’ve sworn he saw him wipe his hand on his coat, but decided not to think about it too closely. Instead, he adjusted his grip on his phone and saw he had a new message from Winston. “How long has the copycat been around?” Al asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Uhm,” Andy hummed as he answered his colleague, telling him that he’d tell him about how it went next time he saw him. “We’re getting closer to three years,” he informed them.

“Interesting,” Al said. Lucifer smirked as he turned around, walking backwards up the hill. “Are there any differences between then and now?”

“Not really,” Andy replied. He locked his phone and focused on where he was putting his feet. “Nothing other than that it looks like he’s getting slightly better at cutting the victims, that’s it. There’s a bit of an inconsistency in his skill, so to speak. Some clean cuts, some less clean. The inconsistency is what’s consistent, I guess.”

“So, he tries really hard to make a clean cut some places and forgets himself,” Al said.

“That’s what we thought, too,” Andy told them as they got to the edge of the forest. Lucifer stepped out onto the small parking lot and made his way over to Andy’s car, looking it over. “Our medical examiner says it could also be because of the placement of the cuts, like some of them are placed in more open areas on the body that makes it much easier to make a clean cut in comparison to other places.”

“Could be,” Al muttered. There was a hint of doubt in his voice. “Well, I’m sure we’ll come to the bottom of this,” he said as Andy put his phone away and unlocked the car. Lucifer opened the back door and got inside, while Al closed his umbrella and let it vanish, before he got into the passenger side.

Andy took a moment to freak out.

“What the fuck,” he started as he once again pulled out his phone, pretending that he was getting a lot of new messages. He wasn’t of course. He just needed the demons to think he wasn’t freaking out. “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck,” he continued through gritted teeth as he glanced up at the demons through the windshield. They were both watching him as he made his way to the other side of the car. “Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit,” he hissed, feeling his voice get more high-pitched as he pretended to grin at them. He paused with a hand on the doorhandle and let out the quietest scream he could make, which came out more like a gurgling whine than anything else. He shut up, opened the door and tossed the bag on the floor in front of the seat. “Hey,” he said to the literal fucking devil sitting in his backseat.

“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?” Lucifer asked.

“No,” Andy lied and slammed the door shut. He let out another quiet “aaah,” before he got into the driver’s seat. He shut the door and put the key in the ignition. The car started with a pling. He could feel Lucifer lean forward between the front seats slowly.

“Did you run out of fuel?”

“No,” Andy repeated and put the car in reverse. He had to stop himself from slamming his foot down on the gas pedal. He pressed it gently, and the car reversed quietly. The devil let out an interested “ooh,” and while it was actually kinda funny that the devil was interested in an electric car, it still didn’t change the fact that it was the devil leaning over his shoulder. “You should put on a seatbelt,” Andy said as he put the car in drive and turned it around.

“I can’t exactly die in a crash,” Lucifer said, leaning his elbows on the seats.

“Yeah, but I’d rather not have a human-sized demon crash into me,” Andy hissed, feeling like he should’ve taken another ten minutes outside the car before getting in with two demons. Two demons. One of them was the fucking devil. “I’d like to solve this case before I die,” he added as he drove a little faster down the gravel road.

“I’ll make sure to tell you who it is if you do,” Lucifer said, making no move to sit back and put on a seatbelt.

“Thought you said you didn’t know who it is,” Andy said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The leather creaked under his fingers.

“I don’t,” Lucifer assured him. “I’m just able to find out, and then I can tell you wherever you end up.”

Andy clenched his jaw. “How kind of you,” he muttered as they got to the main road. He tried to remember where Pierce and Hensley had told him their house was. It was quite far away from the more central parts of New Orleans. He knew that. The problem was where. He didn’t know how well these demons knew their surroundings.

“So, this is electric?” Lucifer asked after a while, leaning closer as if to check out the display. Andy felt his heart beat faster and his shoulders tense up. The demon was inches away from just leaning fully on his shoulder. The thought made him even more aware of having summoned them in the first place. He guessed having a couple of devils on his shoulders was a good reason to freak out. “I got an electric motor for our boat,” Lucifer told him. “I didn’t know they made fully electric cars, too.”

“You didn’t?” Andy asked, trying to calm himself down by continuing the conversation.

“I haven’t been here in a long time,” Lucifer said. “Well, after coming back during our honeymoon, but even then, I wasn’t really aware of the changes that’s been happening during the last hundred years.” He reached between the seats and tapped the touchscreen. “They’ve got fucking touchscreens in the cars, too, Al,” he muttered to his husband, who kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead of them.

“There’s been quite a few technological advancements these last few decades, yeah,” Andy said.

“I guess I should’ve noticed after you put us in the cruiser, but I was a bit busy tormenting your friend,” Lucifer said as he got into the radio. “DAB,” he read and looked at the other demon. “Are you familiar with that one?”

“Hmm,” Al said. “It’s a digital system in comparison to FM or AM.” He sighed disappointedly. “Far inferior to frequency and amplitude when it comes to signal, but better sound quality. I could use it if I wanted to, but it would feel closer to whatever Vox uses.”

Andy had no idea who Vox was, and he had a feeling they wouldn’t like it if he interrupted their little conversation, so he kept quiet, continuing to work on trying to calm down his breathing and racing heart. He forced his hands to relax and pretended that he was just sitting there with two friends and having a chat about the differences between old radios and new radios.

A thought hit him. “Sorry, but you’re supposed to be the Radio Demon, right?”

“That I am,” Al said.

“Well.” Andy cleared his throat when the two demons looked at him curiously. “It’s just that the guy the serial killer is copying was a radio host.”

“Was he?” Al grinned like he already knew, and it only cemented the fact that there was something special about the fact that the two of them wanted to be a part of the investigation instead of just giving him the copycat on a silver platter. “My, what a coincidence.” Again. Andy knew he knew something more than he was letting on, and it was getting stupid. Still, he also had a feeling they would both deny it if he straight up asked.

“Maybe you know who he was?” Andy asked, glancing at the two of them in his peripheral.

“I know how radio works and how to control radio waves, detective,” Al told him. “I couldn’t care less about the hosts. They mostly just jabber on about nonsense.” He glared at Lucifer when he snorted. “There were some good ones, of course, but they lost their charm with time. Now, everyone wants to have a show, yet they find it better to use a podcast format instead of making it a broadcast. Having to tune in to a specific channel is always more special than just listening to whatever the new generations care about whenever they want.”

“It makes it easier to listen when we have time for it, though,” Andy argued.

“Maybe, but it loses the excitement you get from sitting down by the radio,” the Radio Demon grumbled and leaned back in his seat. Andy could see Lucifer place a hand on his shoulder. “Back in the early days, and before that damned TV started to get more popular, people used the radio to get their news, or their music, or even just to listen to interviews. It just lacked the pictures.” He looked back down at the centre console. “It became an evening ritual for many. Maybe they got some tea or something to drink, before they turned on the radio. In this day and age, people just get whatever content they want whenever they want it. Before, if someone missed a show, they wouldn’t be able to listen to it again. They would just hear what had been said from others, instead.”

“A lot of people think radio is outdated, but I think it’s more forgotten,” Lucifer muttered. “Radios still exist, but people mostly just listen to them while in cars or when someone has it turned on in the background in some restaurant or something.”

Al wrinkled his nose. “People have become so accustomed to getting their content immediately,” he said, making Lucifer nod in agreement. “People binge everything and get mad when they have to wait for the next season, because they watched or listened to everything at once. It makes the show feel shorter and the wait longer for the same number of episodes, instead of spreading them out and having something to look forward to.”

“That’s what radio shows were,” Lucifer continued for him. “Just like how I’ve heard TV was, too, back in the day, before people could just watch whatever they wanted on the internet. It removes the excitement and appreciation for the thought and work put behind it, I’d say, but people still watch it.”

“I guess it makes people think more about the story,” Andy piped in.

“It makes people look at the flaws in the story, rather than the adventure in itself,” Al mumbled before he pointed to something up-ahead. “It’s to the left up here,” he informed Andy, who slowed the car down once he saw the narrow dirt road going off into the woods. He’d almost forgotten he was bringing them to their vacation house. Andy had to supress a scoff at the thought. A fucking vacation house on Earth. “Well,” Al continued as they drove onto the dirt. “It doesn’t matter. The moment they get to Hell, people don’t have a choice but to listen to me,” he said with a grin. His teeth looked sharper than they had a moment earlier.

“Well, if I end up there, I’ll make sure to enjoy the show,” Andy promised as he parked outside the house. It looked really inconspicuous, and while he now knew two demons were living in it, he would never have thought that it was anything other than a nice, little place outside the busier parts of the city. It seemed quiet and calm, and he could respect that.

Al looked at him like he thought he was joking. Andy wasn’t. At least, he thought he wasn’t. He didn’t know how the Radio Demon’s broadcasts were, but he preferred that type of media instead of the damned TV or games or streaming.

“Then I sure hope you’re going to Hell, detective,” Al said, looking strangely appreciative of Andy’s words. “I’d be happy to have a proper radio enthusiast listening in.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Andy huffed and put the car in park. “Are you able to get to the precinct tomorrow, or should I meet you out here to look for that guy—”

The sound of his phone vibrating in the centre console made Andy jump. He cursed and picked it up. It was the lieutenant, surprisingly enough, which wasn’t something that happened unless something had happened. He frowned and answered it, putting it up to his ear.

“Greene,” he said.

“There’s a new one,” Carter told him curtly.

“Shit,” Andy breathed, looking at the two curious-looking demons sitting in the car with him. “I’ll be right there,” he said. “Where is it?”

He listened to the lieutenant and put the car back in drive. The two demons noticed and glanced at each other, before Andy turned the car and drove back down the hill to the main road.

“I’ll be right there,” Andy said and hung up, speeding up as soon as he got onto the road. “Well, boys,” he grumbled. “I guess the two of you’ll get to join the investigation sooner than I thought you would.”

“How exciting,” Al drawled, grinning. “I’m looking forward to see how this copycat operates.”

“I’m curious if you’ll see something the rest of us can’t,” Andy admitted as he sped up further. He was going faster than the speed limit, but thankfully the other officers knew his car. “You’re sure you don’t know anything about the serial killer from the thirties?” he asked them.

“Oh, we do,” Lucifer said. “Or else this case would’ve been a lot less fun to join in on.”

Andy almost slammed his foot on the breaks. Of fucking course they knew. Their reactions when Andy told them were too giggly to be anything other than personal knowledge of one or both of the killers in question.

“You both knew him?” Andy asked.

“I like to say I knew him better,” Lucifer started, leaning his head on Al’s seat. “But Al might argue. They were like siblings, back then. They even looked similar.”

“Some thought we were twins,” Al added as he glanced at his reflection in the window. He grinned at it, and Andy wondered if the two demons had been good friends with the serial killer. “It was quite fun, I must say.”

“So, yeah, we know enough to be able to fill in the gaps, Detective Greene,” Lucifer said with a distant smile on his lips. It was a strange thought to Andy, getting attached to a damned serial killer of all things, but what could he say? They were demons, after all. For all he knew, they might’ve even helped him out. “Just point us to the body, and we’ll tell you if it looks the same or not.”

“That would be helpful,” Andy muttered as they passed a car and kept driving towards the scene of the crime. “Is there anything you could tell me about him before we get there that might be of interest?”

Lucifer hummed in contemplation. “I’m not sure people actually knew for sure how he operated,” he said as they got into a busier part of the city. The body had been found floating in the river by someone on a boat, and had been pulled over to the shore where police had been waiting for the boaters so they could take over. “He never had a diary, and he usually managed to keep the police off of his trail enough that they never found him out. He never had time to confess to anything, either, so whatever information the killer has, has to be limited. Possibly even more limited than what you guys have.”

“That’s actually pretty useful information,” Andy muttered as he turned a corner.

If the copycat didn’t have the same amount of information as the police, he had to be doing something more random than what the one from the 30s did. He’d have to draw without a reference, so to speak, which would make it more difficult to figure out who he could be. The only way the police had known was from a postcard the guy had left on the first crime scene from the Museum of Death or whatever it was called. There wasn’t a single word on the card, and no fingerprints to find, either. Still, it had been enough for them all to start researching the Bayou Killer and finding that the copycat was clearly trying to mimic the other’s M.O.

They were met by flashing, blue and red lights. Police cruisers and quite a few detectives stood around the scene. Some officers were holding back curious onlookers. Pierce was one of them, it seemed.

And Winston.

Damn it. 

Andy sighed as he pulled up beside the other cars and turned the key. “Come on,” he muttered to the demons as he got out. Lucifer and Al hurried after him, and Andy locked the car as soon as they closed the doors. The demons ended up behind him, looking over at the police tape that stretched across the alley that led down to the water. Winston looked up when the three of them approached. He’d been talking to Pierce, who frowned when he noticed his entourage.

“No fucking way,” Pierce snarled when he recognised the two demons.

“Officer Pierce,” Lucifer said slyly. “Nice to see you again.”

“You should be behind bars, Mr. Morn,” Pierce muttered. “Both of you,” he added when he glanced over to Al, who smiled as he always did. “Are you here to turn yourself in after managing to lose us half a year ago?”

“Oh, no, we’re here to help with the investigation, officer,” Lucifer said and moved towards the police tape. Pierce’s eyes widened as he glanced between them, before he turned to Andy.

“What the fuck, Andy?” he hissed.

“They’re direct descendants of the Bayou Killer,” Andy explained, having panicked a bit. The two demons snorted. Andy narrowed his eyes and hoped Pierce hadn’t noticed. “Well, the tall one,” he added. “Al,” he finished, nodding towards Al, who wiggled his fingers at Pierce in a small wave. “And his husband,” Andy said when he remembered that he had two demons to introduce. Lucifer just grinned, looking like he was having the time of his life right then and there.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Pierce asked incredulously, glaring at the two demons like they were the bane of his existence. “You can’t just bring two suspects into a fucking investigation they’re suspects in!” he said.

“They’re not suspects anymore,” Andy said, making Lucifer and Al glance at him. “Right, guys?”

So, Andy had one thing he remembered about these guys, and that was Lucifer’s ability to convince people of something by just telling them the opposite. He’d heard Hensley talk about it when they’d dealt with the two demons before, about how Pierce had suddenly just changed his mind just by the short guy telling him otherwise, which had to be some demonic intervention, now that Andy knew that they were, in fact, demons. That, and of course, the way the devil had simply made them all believe they’d been chasing animals.

“Of course, detective,” Lucifer said. “We never were, Officer Pierce. We were simply on our honeymoon, and at the wrong place at the wrong time, I’m afraid. We’re just here to help after Detective Greene, here, contacted us about it.”

“Oh, okay,” Pierce said like he suddenly didn’t mind it at all. Andy glanced at Lucifer, who smirked at him. “Go ahead, then.” Pierce nodded towards the alley.

“Thank you,” Lucifer said and slipped under the police tape. Al followed him under it. “We’ll make sure to do our best to help you guys with the investigation.”

Andy sighed and looked at Winston. He almost flinched.

Winston stared at him. Andy felt his heart stutter in his chest at the wide eyes his colleague sported. Winston’s skin looked pale, like he’d just seen a ghost. His jaw was clenched. Andy could see his jaw muscles jump by the intensity he was biting his teeth together. He looked like he was about to have an aneurism.

“Woah, you okay, Wince?” Pierce asked, looking slightly worried when he noticed Winston’s intense stare. “You look a little—”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Winston bit out. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Andy?” Andy glanced at where the two demons had stopped to wait for him. “Without them?” Winston added.

“Er, yeah,” Andy croaked. “You guys just go ahead, I’ll be right there with you,” he told the demons. Lucifer gave him a thumb’s up, and Al nodded, before the two of them turned and made their way down the alley toward where the body had been found.

Winston grabbed Andy by the shoulders and pushed him in front of him over to some other alley, much to Pierce’s surprise. The moment they were out of sight, Winston let go of him and started to pace. He gripped his hair and pulled at it. His breathing was coming in fast as he muttered under his breath.

“It’s the fucking duck,” Winston hissed.

Andy blinked at him. “How the fuck—”

“It’s the eyes, Andy,” Winston uttered, sounding a little crazed as he grabbed Andy’s shoulders, again. “Those fucking eyes.”

Andy deflated. “Yeah,” he muttered.

“It worked,” Winston said, giving Andy’s shoulders a little shake. “You summoned fucking demons, man. You summoned the fucking duck, you crazy bastard.”

“He’s actually not that bad when you get over the shock—”

“Andy,” Winston hissed. “It’s the duck. The duck! He’s evil!”

“Shush,” Andy hissed back, grabbing Winston and pushing him off of him. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep him from talking. “They’re willing to help,” he told him in a hushed whisper. “I made a deal with them.” Winston let out a sound of despair, but Andy gave him a stern look as if to try and make him shut up. “They’re not as bad as they look, dude. They knew the Bayou Killer personally.” Winston’s eyes widened, again. “They might be exactly what we need to solve this shit before more people get killed.” Winston continued to look like he was about to have a panic attack, but after a moment of staring, he seemed to deflate. “Can I remove the hand?” Andy asked. Winston nodded. “Good,” Andy muttered and let go of him.

“You’re fucked, man,” Winston whispered.

“Well, it might be worth it if we can put a stop to this,” Andy grumbled and looked over his shoulder, checking if anyone were watching them.

Winston sucked in a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself down before he let it out slowly. “Who are they?”

“I don’t think you’d like to know,” Andy admitted as he started to move back out of the alley. He didn’t particularly like having the two demons unsupervised at a crime scene. He had a feeling the two of them could fuck up the scene more than a regular human could, and if that was the case, then Andy wanted to try and prevent it as much as possible.

Winston grabbed his arm. “Fucking tell me. That’s an order.”

“You never pull rank,” Andy huffed.

“I’m not kidding around, man. Who is it?”

They stared at each other, competing for who would break last. None of them wanted to back down, and Andy tried to come up with some convoluted explanation that would somehow make it less worrying than saying he summoned the devil—well, the devil’s husband who then apparently called the devil himself and then Andy was stuck with both of them, and sure, it could go to shit, but Andy was willing to go through with this as long as it made some difference and would help them out, and he really needed to come up with something better than saying—

“It’s Lucifer.” Fuck.

Winston let out a whine of terror, eyes bulging out of his head with the amount of fear they were expressing. Andy tried to smile reassuringly, but it turned into more of a grimace.

“Lucifer?!” Winston snapped. “You made a deal with the fucking devil?! Are you insane?!”

“I made a deal with his husband, actually,” Andy corrected him, which, truth be told, wasn’t much better.

Winston scoffed. “And who the fuck is his husband?” he asked harshly. “Saddam Hussein?”

“This isn’t South Park,” Andy argued. “His name’s Al,” he informed him. “The Radio Demon.”

Winston stared at him. “Is he the fucking Bayou Killer?”

“What?” Andy blinked at him. “No, no. They just knew him. They probably connected over their love of radio or some shit.”

“You can be incredibly stupid sometimes,” Winston said and let go of him. “But sure. The guy named Al and his husband; the fucking devil, will certainly be helpful figuring out who the copycat is. Lead the way, Mr. Holmes. I’ll be looking forward to being right,” he snarked.

Andy rolled his eyes and stepped out of the alley and back into the next one where he ducked under the police tape. Winston followed close behind as they made their way down to the water where they saw Hensley stare at the two demons with an incredibly conflicted expression, and Lieutenant Carter standing with his phone and talking to the forensics team.

“How the fuck did you find out that the guy was a descendant of the killer?” Hensley asked as they got closer to him.

“Google,” Andy explained, seeing that the other detective doubted him. He watched as Al moved around the body, an interested scrunch to his brow. Lucifer followed him, holding an umbrella over him as he crouched down and lifted the body’s arm. A man, Andy noticed. Just like the rest of them.

“If we’d known, we could’ve asked them for help seven months ago,” Hensley muttered, placing his hands on his hips. Winston coughed, making the senior detective look over at him. “You okay?”

“No,” Winston croaked.

“Oh,” Hensley said. “If you need to sit this one out, I’m sure you can go home. We’re more than enough people to handle this.” He reached over and patted Winston’s shoulder. “It probably won’t be anything new, anyways.”

Winston shook his head. “No, I’ll just stay here and keep an eye on the fucking de—”

“Descendants,” Andy shot in with a cheeky smile. Hensley raised an eyebrow at him. Winston grumbled. “That I found. Yes.”

“Yeah.” Hensley frowned and glanced between the two of them. “Maybe you both need to go home?”

“Nah, we’re good,” Andy assured him. “They’re my responsibility.” He gestured to where Al was currently using his index fingers to make the victim smile. Andy’s grin turned sour at the display, and he excused himself from the two detectives before he hurried over to the demons, who looked up at him as they approached. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whisper-yelled at them.

“I’m just checking his teeth,” Al said.

“Checking his teeth my ass,” Andy hissed. “You’re making him smile, you creepy fuck.” He realised he probably shouldn’t point it out. Al just tilted his head and hummed, before he moved back to the victim’s arm. He used his finger and coaxed Andy closer. “What?”

“Look at this,” Al said. Andy frowned and walked around the body. Al shuffled a little sideways to give him some space. “Do you see it?”

“I can’t see shit in this light,” Andy said. “Give me a second.” He got his phone out and turned on the flashlight, before he crouched down and looked at the destroyed arm in front of him. The skin was ripped and torn. Pieces of flesh were missing, making it possible to see the bone underneath. It looked a lot like what the old pictures they had from the Bayou Killer looked like, as well as the bodies they’d found from the copycat. “I can’t say I see anything new. It looks almost exactly like every other body we’ve found.”

Al stared at him. Even if he was smiling, it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked pretty annoyed, actually.

“There’s no bruising or swelling,” Al pointed out. “He was dead before he was cut.”

“What?” Andy muttered, looking at the still-intact skin around the wound. Sure enough, there was nothing that indicated that the guy had been cut up while he was still alive.

“Is that new?” Lucifer asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Andy admitted, eyes locked onto the skin. “I’ll have to look at the pictures—”

“The Bayou Killer never let his victims die before he was done cutting them up,” Al informed him, which was another thing Andy had no idea about. There was nothing in the evidence about it. There was nothing in the descriptions, either. The descriptions of the bodies, themselves, and the grainy black-and-white pictures didn’t give them much to work with when it came to checking for bruises. The arms were too mangled to tell the difference. “And see here?” Al asked, pointing to the cut in itself. “It’s rough, right?”

“Yeah?” Andy said, crouching down beside him.

“And then, here,” Al said, lifting the victim’s shirt, revealing a cut in his side. It looked completely different. “Much smoother cut.”

“You’re saying it’s two different people?” Andy asked.

“Could be,” Al said as he pushed the victim over onto his back. “Three, quick stabs to the heart and a slit throat,” he muttered. “The throat was also cut after he died.” He pointed to the stabs. “He died quite fast from the damage to his heart, and then the killer must’ve slit his throat. It looks more like it’s been done as an afterthought, not as a way of killing him.”

“Did the Bayou Killer have an accomplice?” Andy asked.

“Not at first,” Lucifer muttered. Andy glanced up at him. Had the two demons helped the guy out, after all? “And even after, it was mostly just to hold the victims steady while he cut them up.”

“But you’re saying this copycat could be two people where both went for the kill?” Andy continued to question, deciding to focus on one thing at the time.

Al furrowed his brow and pushed the victim’s shirt away from his chest, revealing more missing flesh. Andy noticed that those cuts also looked like they were done after the victim was already dead.

“To be honest,” Al said, making Andy look at him. “It looks like the killer found a dead body on the street and decided to cut him up.” He tilted his head back and forth in contemplation. “Or there were actually two people. One of them might’ve wanted to kill, the other wanted to honour the Bayou Killer by cutting him.”

“But why the difference in cuts?” Andy questioned.

“I don’t know,” Al confessed and let go of the body before he got up. He took the umbrella from Lucifer and held it up a little higher so it covered the two of them. “Could be anything.”

“Fuck,” Andy cursed and pushed himself back up on his feet. “But you’re saying it’s different from how the Bayou Killer operated?”

“Yes,” Al confirmed. “I’d recommend looking at the other bodies, too, just to see if there’s something there that might be different.”

Andy frowned, seeing Hensley, Winston and Carter send them a few glances. “We should know this,” he muttered. “Why don’t we know this?”

“Lack of information,” Lucifer said and put his hands back in his pockets.

“We’ve been investigating this for almost three years,” Andy mumbled. “We should know if the victims died before they were cut up or after.” He hesitated, looking away from his colleagues. “I should know if they were cut up before or after,” he corrected himself. “I’ve read through every report we have, but none of them have mentioned it. Not from the old cases. Not from the new ones.”

Al and Lucifer gave each other a look, before Lucifer glanced over at the detectives and the lieutenant who were chatting quietly with each other. “What if it’s not simply a lack of information?”

Andy frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer smiled a little. “What if someone’s been stealing it?”

Andy’s eyes widened.

Oh.

Oh, fuck. 

Chapter Text

Andy sat by his desk. His leg bounced as he looked through the evidence and the reports for the sixth or seventh time. He glanced up at the clock on the wall of the bullpen. They were late, he realised. Well, one minute late, but that still stressed him out. He felt like he had to talk to the two demons about the damned mole they apparently had.

The copycat either had an accomplice in the police, was one of his colleagues, or worse, there was more than one mole and the two people involved in the damned serial killer case were both associated with the NOPD. Andy had played with the thought, before, but he’d always discarded the idea. It didn’t feel right. He trusted his colleagues. It was quite a big part of the job, even. He had to trust that they had his back.  

Andy scratched his eyebrow as he turned back to the task at hand. He flipped through the documents, checking the few pictures that he had from the thirties (they’d gotten a lot of them from the museum where the postcard had been from). Now that he looked at them in new light, he realised that most of the pictures of the wounds all looked much more like someone who’d had medical training, almost.

Or just a lot of experience cutting people up, Andy thought as he checked out one of the pictures a little closer. He could definitely see the darkness around the wounds indicating bruising. He guessed that was why he hadn’t questioned it. He just assumed the person had been killed after being cut up.

He grabbed one of the newer crime scene photos and placed it beside the one from the 30s. He frowned as he looked at them. They looked almost identical. Both showed the inside of the forearm where someone seemed to have cut out bite-sized pieces of the skin. The cuts themselves weren’t the same standard. One looked like it was made by a medical professional, while the other looked like someone had tried to use a dull knife, tearing up the skin around the wound. One of them had been done by a radio host, the other someone else.

Andy frowned and checked the skin on the new picture.

“What?” he muttered to himself as he ran a finger over the bruises. “Wait,” he whispered and got out another couple of pictures, all from different victims. The wounds had that strange inconsistency in the cuts, but the bruises were there. In ever single one of them.

“Greene,” someone said. Andy looked up and saw Isabelle Scott, the detective that had helped him arrest the two demons that night seven months ago. She was one of the more respected ones on the team, but had been away for a while given some health issues in the family. Andy smiled at her, even if he felt it wasn’t completely genuine. He was too stressed. He’d just found something new. “Got some visitors for you,” she continued and nodded to the two demons trailing in behind her.

Lucifer grinned at Andy when he saw him, before he made his way over to him. “Morning, detective,” the devil greeted him. Al came sauntering behind him, arms behind his back and looking around the bullpen curiously. Andy noticed him waving to Winston, who sat halfway hidden behind his monitors, peeking up from behind them. “Did you find something interesting?”

“The new one doesn’t match,” Andy told him, getting Al’s attention. The taller demon came around the desk to look over his shoulder. “See?” Andy asked, pointing at the bruised skin. “Bruises.”

“But the same cuts,” Al muttered, picking up one of the pictures from the 30s and then one of the newer ones. He glanced between them. “So, last night was an anomaly,” he said, showing the pictures to Lucifer, who pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“We’re still waiting for the medical examiner to give us his report,” Andy told him and picked up one of the documents with more information about the Bayou Killer that the investigators had created a hundred years ago. He skimmed through the information, even if he knew what was there. Nothing about the body, but other things about the crime scenes, or more like where they found it. They didn’t know where the new body had been dropped into the river from, which once again made it difficult to find out if there was a proper pattern in this case or not. “It feels like there’re so many pages missing from these,” he told the two demons.

“What if he just recently got an accomplice?” Lucifer asked and perched on the side of Andy’s desk, making sure not to sit on any of the files. “Our friend didn’t really have anyone until his last year.”

Andy hummed. “How long was he active?”

Lucifer glanced at Al. “Do you remember?”

Al looked like he wasn’t too keen on answering the question. “Longer than three years,” he said. “But it took a while before he got to that stage,” he added and pointed to the pictures of the cut-up arms. “I don’t think anyone knew about him before he started eating them.”

Andy wrinkled his nose. “So, potentially we could be dealing with someone who’s been killing for a long time?”

“No,” Al replied, making Andy glance up at him. “As I said, I don’t think anyone knew. The victims were few and far between in the first few years before he got better at it.” He put the pictures down on the desk in front of Andy. “And, of course, it wasn’t until he got a helper that he really had time to hone in on his skill.” He pointed to the picture with the clean cut. “This was one of the later ones, most likely during the last year.”

“Really?” Andy asked.

“What’s strange about it is that it’s so well-preserved,” Al continued, before he looked over to Lucifer, who glanced the other way. “When you said you made sure no one would find them…” he trailed off, making Lucifer clear his throat.

“It might’ve preserved them, too,” Lucifer admitted.

“Wonderful,” Alastor drawled, looking extremely unimpressed by his husband. He turned back to Andy. “Whatever bodies were found after the killer died, aren’t any good pointers for when or where the murders happened.”

Andy nodded. “Yeah, seems like a lot of the officers back then thought he’d gotten someone to keep killing people after he died,” he said and leaned back in his chair, letting out a puff of air. “I just wish I knew what the copycat knows.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” Lucifer asked with a grin. “We know more than the copycat does, that’s for sure.”

“Andy.” Andy looked up to see Hensley move over to them. “The autopsy report is done,” he informed him and gave him the file. “Thomas says it’s not the same killer.”

“What?” Andy said and opened the file. He skimmed through the report, and sure enough, the medical examiner had found that the cause of death was from the three stab wounds to the victim’s chest, like Al had pointed out the night before. Those weren’t consistent with how the copycat operated, and the doctor had deemed that the killer, this time, wasn’t the same as the copycat. However, with the cuts, it appeared that the copycat had found the victim and cut it up a while later, and then pushed the body into the river. “So, are we thinking he has an accomplice?” Andy asked Hensley.

“I don’t know what to think,” Hensley said with a sigh. “He cut the guy’s throat too long after he first died for an accomplice to make sense.” He glanced at the two demons. “I don’t think Thomas would be too mad if you guys wanted to go take a look at the body,” he told them. “Just to see if there’s anything else that doesn’t fit or maybe he’s overlooked something that you guys think is important.” He looked down at Andy. “I’m going to visit the victim’s family in a couple of hours.”

“I can join you,” Andy offered.

“Might not be able to bring your friends for that,” Hensley said and smiled at the two demons. “Sorry. Not everyone wants more people there than necessary,” he told them apologetically.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Lucifer waved him off. “We’re here to help wherever you need us. We’ll leave the talking to you.”

Andy felt like he was going to join the visit, anyway, for some reason, and if he was being honest, it could be a good idea. The demons had to know something about who the Bayou Killer usually went for. If this guy didn’t fit, then there was definitely something going on that made little-to-no sense with this case. At least, not this particular murder.

If this was the fucking part where the killer had fucked up, then Andy started to regret his outstanding move to summon two demons even more than he already did. He’d brought them back to their vacation house after the body got taken away and Andy had his debrief. They’d been behaving surprisingly well at the scene, looking more interested in the actual crime than destroying evidence. Andy wondered if it was because of genuine interest, respect for their friend or just because they were waiting until they could do some proper damage. They’d already been more helpful than he thought they’d be, though, so if this murder had been a mistake on the copycat’s side, and he’d summoned the two demons that could help them out, then maybe—just maybe, they’d be able to put an end to this damned case in record time. Three years was long enough.

“Good,” Hensley said and turned to Andy. “I’ll send you a text when I leave,” he told him, gave the two demons a small smile and made his way back to his desk.

Andy looked back down at the autopsy report and got up from his seat, before he closed the folder and placed it in the box with the rest of the evidence. He started gathering the documents and pictures, before he heard Winston clear his throat. Andy glanced over to where he was still hiding behind his monitors.

“What?”

“I can take a look at the documents while you’re going to the coroner’s,” Winston offered. “Maybe I’ll find something,” he continued when Andy just stared at him.

Andy looked back down at the evidence box. While he trusted his colleagues, he still felt that slight unease around them, right now. They had to have at least one mole among them, and while he didn’t think it was Winston, he couldn’t know for sure. There was no telling who it was.

Andy saw Lucifer’s smile widen in his peripheral and already knew the devil was going to suggest something before he actually suggested it.

“I could stay behind and help looking,” Lucifer offered, making Winston narrow his eyes. Al gave him an amused grin. “There’s no need for both of us to go to the coroner’s office.” He glanced at his husband. “You’re the cutting expert.”

“And it has absolutely nothing to do with you wanting to continue to torment Detective Brooks?” Al asked quietly, yet loud enough for the detective to hear it. Andy could see Winston’s eyes widen. Lucifer didn’t answer at first, but then he jumped off of the desk with a sly grin.

“I think it’ll be good to talk to him,” he stated. “Settle our problems and such. Talk about our previous sins.”

“Oh, does he have many?” Al asked, actually sounding genuinely interested, which also made Andy realise that the devil had even more tricks up his sleeves.

Lucifer hummed. “A few,” he said, before he looked over to Andy. “Not enough to be a serial killer.”

“How do you know?” Andy asked quietly, hoping that his colleague wouldn’t hear him.

“Oh, trust me, I do,” Lucifer said and started to help him pick up the folders, files and other documents, before placing them in the box. Andy continued putting it all in the box, before he placed the lid on it and pushed it over to Lucifer, who picked it up from the desk like it weighed nothing. It almost looked empty in his hands. “Just like I know your sins, detective,” Lucifer muttered. “You do a lot just to solve a case, don’t you?”

Andy stared at him, feeling that familiar chill go down his spine. Lucifer noticed his expression and winked at him, before he grinned at Al and turned his back to them, strolling over to where Winston was watching him like a hawk. Andy saw his colleague duck down behind the monitors as Lucifer put the evidence box down on his desk. He grinned at Winston and leaned forward, before he picked something out of Winston’s hands.

Al snorted when Lucifer held up what looked like a crucifix. “I’m sure they’re going to get along great,” Al said enthusiastically and started moving towards the door. He stopped and glanced at Andy over his shoulder. “Are you coming, detective?”

“Yeah, right, sorry,” Andy muttered and grabbed his jacket from where it had been hanging on his chair, and slipped it over his uniform shirt. He gave one last look to where Winston was trying to keep his distance from the devil (who looked like he was enjoying himself as he sat down on the detective constable’s desk and started to go through the box), before he hurried after Al. The demon walked faster when he didn’t have Lucifer there, it seemed, and Andy felt like he almost had to jog to keep up with him. “It’s not too far,” he told Al as they got out of the bullpen and out of the building. “About five minutes by car.”

They made their way over to where Andy had parked outside the precinct. He’d decided it would be a good day to just have his own car at his disposal. He could’ve taken one of the cruisers, too, of course, but he wanted to be able to drive the demons home after they were done for the day.

The two of them got inside, and Andy started the car while Al got his seatbelt on.

“So, he can really sense sinners?” Andy asked as he drove out of the parking lot.

“He can,” Al said. “I don’t think it’s a too useful skill, usually, but I guess in some circumstances it might come in handy.”

“Does that mean he could just look at someone and tell if they’re a serial killer?” Andy asked, feeling once again that the devil was purposefully trying his best not to use his abilities just to either piss Andy off, or just so it would feel like he wasn’t taking over the investigation and solving it within a day of getting involved in it, which, yeah, Andy would be pissed by that, too, now that he thought about it.

“Absolutely,” the demon replied. There was something that almost sounded like nostalgia in his voice. Was that how Lucifer had met the Bayou Killer? Had he just known what he was and gotten interested in what he was doing? “Though, he’s trying to not use his powers while helping you solve this,” he continued, much to Andy’s surprise.

“Why?”

Al hummed quietly, like he wasn’t entirely sure himself. “Let’s say humans tend to be quite intriguing for someone who’s not from this world,” he started, folding his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs. The snake ring glimmered in the light. It was pretty nice weather for once, even if it was in the middle of winter. “I think he likes to see how humans do things. He’s so used to just waving a hand and creating whatever he needs, or he can look at someone and know what they’ve done to make them end up in Hell.” Al sighed. “Humans do things the hard way. I think he enjoys watching them figure things out on their own.”

Andy huffed. “And he’s probably having a lot of fun seeing us fumble around and making mistakes.”

Al chuckled. “I must say it’s amusing watching you all stumble around each other when we know the answer.” He glanced at Andy. “We don’t actually know who did it, and he’s been refusing to tell me anything, just to be an ass. I don’t think he can tell for sure who the copycat is, but with his ability to scope out sinners, I think he’s probably figured something out, by now.”

“You don’t have that ability?” Andy asked as he drove down the last road leading to the coroner’s office.

“Well, he’s the devil, and I’m the Radio Demon,” Al said. “Our abilities are quite different. He’s second to God himself when it comes to power, so there’s a reason he’s in charge of Hell.”

“So, there’s like a power hierarchy?”

“Indeed. Him and his daughter are on top, and then there’s me.” Al grinned to himself, like he was quite proud of being that far up in the hierarchy. “Though, I was a lot farther down before we got married.”

Andy frowned as he found a free spot and parked the car. “He has a daughter?”

“I guess you could say we have a daughter,” Al mumbled, like he wasn’t too sure about it. He got the door open and stepped outside. Andy followed him. “But yes, he has a daughter.”

Andy took the lead over towards the entrance. “Which one of you is the mother, then?”

“She was born long before I existed,” Al told him dryly, clearly not enjoying the thought of being anyone’s mother. Actually, it seemed just the thought of being anyone’s parent bothered him. “Which makes it even worse to think of her as my step-daughter.”

Andy grimaced at the thought. It would give any human an existential crisis to know their kid was actually a lot older than them. It could actually happen to humans, too, of course. Andy wondered if the two demons had some sort of sugar-daddy type of relationship, just with power instead of money, but the more time he spent with the two of them, it looked more like they were just really good friends rather than married. The only way he knew they were married in the first place was because they’d told him about it (and apparently Hensley and Pierce had walked in on them making out in an alley, which was another small indication of their relationship status).

Though, when Andy thought about it, there was something in the way they looked at each other, too, like they only had eyes for each other in some moments. Especially Lucifer. If heart-eyes was a thing, the devil would have them for the strange demon named Al. It wasn’t something Andy had ever thought he’d witness, but he had on quite a few occasions already.

It seemed like the two of them kept their affection private, and Andy could respect that. Too much public display of affection made him feel a bit queasy, anyway, and having the two giggling assholes follow him around felt somehow better than if the two of them would be hanging onto each other or being too intimate.

“I can understand that,” Andy muttered and opened the door. He let Al go inside the building before he followed him. “I think I’d be pretty freaked out, too, if I ended up getting married to someone who had a kid that was older than me.” He looked up at Al for a moment, contemplating asking about how their relationship was. “Is it different for demons? Age?” he clarified.

“For some, but not all,” Al explained. “The older a demon gets, the less strange it is. If you’ve lived for a thousand years, and then you meet someone you’d like to spend your life with, most demons don’t care too much about the age gap.” He smiled to himself. “They’re just happy to finally have found someone at all.”

Andy found himself smiling a little at that. The woman from the voodoo shop was right. Some demons were remarkably sweet. If he was right, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was mostly just the devil and his husband that were strangely sweet. That also made him realise that the woman in the voodoo shop might’ve been talking about the two of them when she mentioned it. They’d been in New Orleans half a year earlier, and most likely quite a few times after that, too, given their vacation house.

They walked over to the reception desk and greeted the young woman typing away on a keyboard. She glanced up at them with a kind grin. Nora had been working there for quite a few years, and after ending up on the serial killer case, Andy visited the coroner’s office more often than not. He’d gotten to know her pretty well.

“Detective Greene,” Nora said cheerfully. “Nice to see you, again.”

“It’s been a while, now, hasn’t it?” Andy replied and leaned on the desk. “We’re here to talk to Doctor Hen. Is he in?”

“He should be at lunch,” Nora told them and checked her monitors, before she nodded. “Yeah, lunch. I’m sure he’ll be okay with you dropping by, though.”

Andy nodded. “Well, we’re here to examine a body.” He gave her the case number and got his ID. She took a quick look at it, before she typed something into the computer. She hummed to herself and picked up one of the visitor cards and gave it to him. “Thank you.”

“And your friend?” Nora asked.

Oh, fuck, Andy thought and glanced at the demon standing beside him.

“I’m helping Detective Greene with the investigation,” Al explained. “I’ve got some knowledge of the cases his case might be based on.”

“He needs to see the body so he can compare it to the older cases,” Andy told the secretary. “I forgot to tell you he was coming with me. Is there anything we can do to get around that, or…? We’re in a bit of a rush.”

Nora pursed her lips like she wasn’t too happy about forgoing the pre-approved visit, but she sighed and got a couple of documents out of one of the drawers under her desk and placed them on top of the desk together with a pen.

“I need an ID card,” she informed Andy, before she turned to Al and gestured to the document. “Fill in this, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Al hummed and took a small wallet out of his pocket, before he fished out a card and handed it to Nora, who thanked him and looked it over, typing something on her keyboard. Al filled out the document and pushed it closer to the secretary, who took the piece of paper and placed it beside her. She continued to stare at the monitors for a while, and Andy almost thought she saw something that wasn’t adding up. Andy was surprised the demon even had an ID. Well, he had a feeling the demon hadn’t had one until right this moment, and that he’d mostly just used Lucifer’s powers to get through security wherever they went.

She handed the ID back to Al, who put it back in his wallet, before she picked up another guest card and placed it on the desk in front of Al, who took it and put it in his pocket together with his wallet.

She grinned at the two of them and gestured at the doors into the main part of the building. “You know the way to the lunch room.”

“Yup, thanks,” Andy said before he motioned for Al to follow him. He felt quite relieved, if he was being honest. There was no telling what the damned demon could do, and he’d rather not end up stuck in the reception just because Al didn’t have the proper documentation. Thankfully, it seemed like the Radio Demon had a better understanding of human behaviour and systems than what his husband had.

They made their way into the facility and over to the stairs leading to the next floor. Andy sighed as they got to the top and led Al through the corridors over to the lunch room. He could hear the voices coming from inside and gave the demon a quick glance before he knocked on the doorframe and poked his head inside. It was filled with about seven people, and Thomas Hen sat by the head of the table eating a chicken sandwich.

He looked up and spotted Andy. A conflicted look flashed over his face, and Andy gave him an apologetic grin.

“Sorry to disturb you, Doctor Hen. We just have someone here who wanted to take another look at the body from last night,” he said, making the doctor frown.

“Can I finish my sandwich, or are we in a rush?” Thomas asked as he took another bite.

“Someone’s not happy with your job and you’re asking if you can finish your sandwich,” one of the assistants Andy had worked with on another murder muttered, making the doctor give her an unimpressed look.

“Why don’t you go help them out, Jen,” Thomas grumbled through a mouthful. “I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished this.”

“Right,” Jen said and got up. She packed up her things and gave the others a smile, before she turned to Andy and Al. “Follow me, then,” she told them as she brushed past them out of the room and into the hallway.

The two of them followed her over to her office where she deposited her things, before they went back down the stairs until they reached the basement. Andy couldn’t say he enjoyed being down there, but if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he was down there without Lucifer. He had this strange feeling that the devil would be having too much fun with the dead bodies if he’d joined them. Al seemed much more serious in comparison, at least.

“We just finished him up this morning,” Jen told them as they got to the autopsy suite. She glanced at Al. “Are you a relative, or…?”

“Descendant of the person who was behind the old murders that this copycat has been trying to replicate,” Al said and held his hand out. Jen blinked at the offered hand and glanced at Andy, who would’ve preferred it if Al hadn’t said anything. “I’m here to help with the knowledge I have from what my grandmother told me about it before she passed.”

Jen stared at him, before she hesitantly reached out and took his hand. “Jennifer Crow,” she introduced herself.

“Al Morn,” Al said with a pleasant grin. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Yeah.” She looked over to Andy, again. “I don’t know how comfortable the family will be if Mr. Morn sees the body before them,” she muttered. Al let go of her and rested his hands behind his back with another, quite unsettling grin that looked something between excited and understandable.

“He’s just here to help with the case,” Andy said. “Think of him as a specialist.”

Jen sighed and glanced at the door to the autopsy suite. “I’ll just go and get him ready for you, then,” she said and turned back to them. “I expect you to wait here until the doctor gets here, though.”

“That’s alright,” Andy said and moved to lean against the wall as she slipped inside the room and left the two of them alone. He looked at Al. “You couldn’t come up with something less worrying?”

“You’re the one who used it first,” Al retorted. “I thought it would be better to stay consistent.”

Andy guessed he couldn’t argue with that. “Well, you didn’t have to rub it in as much as you did.”

“I don’t think I ‘rubbed it in’ at all,” Al replied. Andy could hear the air-quotes. “I mean, I could’ve gone into more detail, like how my grandmother sat me down on her knee and showed me pictures of the bodies.” Andy clenched his jaw. “I’ll be sure to mention that for the doctor.”

“Please don’t,” Andy grumbled.

Al grinned and took a few steps down the hallway, before he turned and moved back. It wasn’t pacing, per se, but more like a curious inspection, like he was at an art gallery and checked out the paintings. There was nothing on the walls down there. Andy watched the demon’s shadow move until it was on the wall in front of him. It moved independently from the demon himself, which was another thing he thought he would’ve noticed before. It felt like it was looking at him.

“You said you have different powers than Lucifer,” Andy said after a short moment of silence. The demon turned to look at him. “Or abilities, I guess.”

“Well, in some ways, yes,” Al said and looked back at the grinning shadow on the wall. “I do have different abilities, but he’s usually able to replicate them in some ways.” It sounded like the thought annoyed Al more than he probably liked to admit. “Though, I feel like I probably use my abilities more than he does. I’m the one who ends up in the most fights out of the two of us.”

“Demons are a rowdy bunch, I take it?”

“Humans’ knowledge of Hell has been influenced by humans, not demons,” Al told him. “Some are quite peaceful, others are not.” The shadow grinned wider. “Whatever depictions humans have made of it are inaccurate.”

“So, like, Dante was wrong?” Andy asked.

“Well, it does have a ring-system,” Al said and turned his back to the shadow, before he leaned against the wall on the opposite side of where Andy was standing. “The seven rings of Hell.”

“And you have to go through each one to get through purgatory?” Andy continued to question. He’d never really thought much about how Hell worked. He wasn’t religious (well, he was starting to wonder what to do about that, actually. He couldn’t really say he was a non-believer anymore, at least).

“Redemption for sinners wasn’t available until just a few years ago,” Al told him.

Andy frowned. “What?”

“And it certainly has nothing to do with travelling through Hell to get to purgatory,” Al continued like he hadn’t heard him. “You just go to one of the hotels, go through one of the programs, and then you can just swoop right up to Heaven through a beam of light. Not much more to it.”

Andy stared at him. “You’re trying to fuck with me, aren’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” Al said with the biggest grin Andy had seen on his more human features and shrugged. “I personally wanted it to be a regular elevator, but they didn’t let me join in on the construction. I was going to help with the elevator music.” Andy must’ve looked particularly confused, since Al seemed to feel like he needed to explain more about it, even if it felt more and more like the demon was trying to trick him into thinking there were such mundane things as hotels in Hell. Oh, and apparently no one had to go through a bunch of torture before they could go to Heaven. That was another thing. “I don’t think you should worry too much about it, detective. Just know going to Hell isn’t as bad as humans think it is.”

“I’d like it if you could stop lying about it, at least,” Andy muttered.

“All I’ve said about Hell is the truth,” Al said, which meant anything else he’d said to Andy could be a lie, which again made him feel like an idiot for summoning demons to help him out with his police work which he should be able to do on his own without help from the occult.

“Okay, then, gentlemen,” Jen said as she got out of the autopsy suite, stopping their conversation short. “I’ve got him ready in there, but I think we should wait for the doctor before we let you inside.”

“That’s fine,” Andy told her. “Sorry for ruining your lunch.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jen assured him. “We were having a pretty bad discussion, anyway, so I was happy to get out of there,” she admitted. “Some people can be such creeps.”

“The doctor?” Al asked.

“No, not really,” Jen muttered. “Thomas is a great guy. Very proper. Likes to make sure the bodies are properly taken care of. He’s very thoughtful and kind, from what I know.”

“Strict when it comes to examinations,” Andy added, remembering the times when the medical examiner had more or less slapped his hand away if he got too close to touching the body without being allowed to. Doctor Hen scared him a little in the beginning, but after meeting him a few times, he seemed like a good person, at the very least. He’d apparently been working as a GP for a while, but went over to autopsies and police work after some family thing that had made it too stressful to work in that department. He’d said he liked helping the police out, even if it wasn’t what he’d wanted at first. “He’s a good guy.”

“You didn’t seem too happy about him during lunch,” Al pointed out.

Jen sighed. “We just had a bit of an argument, earlier. Usually, he’s a kind guy, but I messed up with one of the reports.”

“On the guy you’re here to see,” the doctor said as he turned the corner. “Can’t have something go missing, can we?”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Jen huffed. “Sorry, guys.”

“And who is this, now, then?” the doctor asked and stopped in front of Al. The demon towered over all of them in height, but the doctor’s quite short stature made it almost look as obvious as when Al stood beside Lucifer. “New person on the force?”

“This is Al,” Andy said, letting Al shake the doctor’s hand. “He’s actually a descendant of the Bayou Killer.”

“I didn’t know the Bayou Killer had any descendants?” the doctor said curiously.

“Oh, he did,” Al replied. “The family decided not to speak out about it given how problematic a bastard child was back then. They kept her out of the public eye.”

The doctor looked a little confused about that, but eventually, he seemed to accept it. “And you know about all he did back then?”

“My grandmother told me about it, personally,” he said. “Her father used to bring her mother with him on some of the kills. It’s why the cuts got cleaner during the last year he was active. He finally had someone to hold the victims down.”

Okay, so Al was clearly lying through his teeth, but Thomas didn’t need to know that. All they needed was for the doctor to believe him enough to let them into the room so Al could check out the body and tell them if there was anything else he noticed about the body.

“That’s mighty interesting, Al,” Thomas said as he let go of the demon. “You must be an incredibly valuable asset to the detectives.”

“I just want this case solved,” Al replied. “I’m willing to help however I can. If that’s taking a look at the body to see if there’s any other inconsistencies, I’ll do it gladly.”

“Good to hear,” the doctor said with a grin and turned to Jen. “Let’s get going, then.”

Jen nodded and stepped into the autopsy suite. Al walked after her. The doctor grabbed Andy’s arm before he could follow the two of them. He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, detective,” he muttered quietly. “I don’t think that man is who he might say he is.”

Fuck, Andy thought.

“He is who he says he is,” Andy lied. “I’ve run a background check, and all he’s been telling me has been right so far.”

Thomas hummed and let go of Andy’s arm. “Wouldn’t the killer also know those things?”

Andy almost started to laugh. Almost. He couldn’t hide the smile, though. There was nothing that connected the demon to the copycat, other than him having known the Bayou Killer personally back in the thirties.

“He’s not the killer,” Andy whispered and patted Thomas’ shoulder.

“How do you know?” the doctor asked.

“Because he’s got alibies for all the kills, which all have checked out,” he said and moved away from the doctor and into the autopsy suite. Al and Jen watched them as they entered, before they turned back to the body on the table. The victim had been stripped down, and only a white cloth covered his body. Jen had draped the cloth down to reveal his torso, and Al was already looking at the wounds. “Do you see anything?”

Al pursed his lip. “It just bothers me that the wounds are so different from each other,” he said and moved to grab one of the victim’s arms.

“No touching, please,” Jen said.

Al curled his hand away, before he once again settled his arm behind his back. He leaned closer, furrowing his brow as he inspected the wound on his torso instead.

“Do they bother you for any particular reason?” Thomas asked and stepped around to the other side of the body. Al glanced up at the medical examiner and hummed.

“It just feels like a bit of a disgrace to my great grandfather’s legacy,” he said, making the doctor and the assistant glance at each other. “He valued consistency and craftmanship. This is just poorly executed.” He pointed at the rougher wound on his arm. “Look at this,” he complained. “Whoever thinks my great grandfather would be impressed by this is sorely mistaken. He’d be turning in his grave if he knew someone did this as some sort of tribute to him.”

Andy frowned at Al, who gave him an annoyed look.

“How do you know it’s a tribute?” the doctor asked.

Al raised an eyebrow. “Why else would he find a body someone else killed just to start carving it up like a carcass at the butcher’s?” He met Andy’s eyes. “Has it been a while since the last one?”

“A month or two,” Andy said.

“Hmm.” Al straightened his back, again and moved around the examination table. Thomas and Jen moved out of the way. “In this day and age, I can’t think he would eat the victim’s meat without processing it somehow. Especially not when the body’s been dead for an unknown amount of time before he started cutting.”

“You don’t think there’s two people behind it?” Andy asked.

“Oh, there could be, absolutely,” Al replied. “However, in this case, someone got mugged and then the copycat found him and cut him up.” He sighed dramatically. “My great grandfather would never do such a thing. He made sure to keep them alive just to hear their screams.” The way Al’s smile widened made Andy’s gut turn, and he felt like he wanted to get the demon out of the room before the two medical examiners noticed how much he seemed to enjoy that thought.

“Could it be a copycat of the copycat?” Jen asked and picked up the victim’s arm. Al tilted his head and leaned closer to look at the wound she was presenting him.

“No,” he said. “From the pictures the detective showed me, these look identical to the ones the copycat did. The same inconsistencies. Why would the public know about those?” He hummed thoughtfully and glanced at Andy, again, looking more uncertain, this time. “Unless of course…”

Andy stared at him. Was he implying that they had two different copycats in the NOPD?

“Seems unlikely,” Andy muttered.

“But not impossible,” Al retorted. “However, this looks to be just the regular copycat, I’d say. If I had known he was this pathetic, letting someone else kill the victim first, then I don’t know if I’d have wanted to help with this case.”

“Might want to dial down the antisocial tendencies, there, Al,” Andy mumbled to him, hoping the other two didn’t hear it.

“He’s disgracing my great grandfather’s work,” Al hissed, looking like he was getting more and more irritated by the different wounds on the body in front of them. “It’s sloppy craftmanship and just incredibly dull. I’d have hoped the copycat at least had some dignity, but here we are, seeing the opposite.”

“How do you suppose the copycat should’ve killed him, then?” Doctor Hen inquired.

“First of all, it’s not about the kill, it’s about the cutting,” Al grumbled and pointed to the cleaner cuts. “This is what my grandfather would’ve wanted, not that,” he said and pointed to the rough cut on the arm. “If the copycat cares about what my great grandfather would enjoy, then it’s the cuts themselves that need to improve, as well as having the final cut being the throat to kill them off.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “In some cases, he also dismembered them and tossed them to the alligators, but even then, he would always take his time on the cuts themselves.”

“Are you sure the Bayou Killer wasn’t a butcher?” the doctor asked.

“My great grandfather was a radio host who enjoyed skinning people alive. He did hunt deer sometimes, but mostly humans during the last few years,” Al informed them and took a step away from the table. “Are there any other wounds on the body?”

“Nothing farther down, no,” Jen said.

“Then I don’t think I have anything more to say about it.” Al looked at Andy. “I think we’re done here. I don’t think I could be of much more assistance for something this poorly executed, and I believe you have to get back before your colleague leaves to go talk to the family, am I correct?”

“Y-yeah,” Andy stuttered, seeing the quite shocked looks on the doctor and his assistant.

“Wonderful,” Al said and moved towards the door to the hallway.

Andy stared after him, before he turned to the other two. Jen’s eyes flickered between the body and the retreating demon, while Thomas stared intently at the demon’s back before he turned to Andy.

“I really think you need to be careful with that man,” the doctor whispered to him. “He’s not right in the head.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Andy said. “Sorry, again, for disturbing your lunch, but it did give us quite a lot of useful information.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the doctor said, eyes going back to where Al had managed to open the door and was on his way out. Andy could see the anger beneath his expression. He couldn’t blame him. “Make sure they get out of here, Jen,” Thomas told his assistant, who gave him a quick nod and hurried around the body on her way after the Radio Demon.

“Sorry,” Andy repeated to Thomas, who shook his head and carefully draped the cloth back over the victim’s face. When the doctor didn’t say anything else, Andy hurried after the other two. He caught up with them right before they reached the stairs.

Jen gave him a worried look, which Andy had a feeling was another one he should interpret as being careful with the strange man who felt the serial killer hadn’t done a good enough job with the body. He understood why they were concerned, and he knew he probably should be worried, too, but surprisingly, he wasn’t. Most likely because he was so far into this demon-summoning shit by then that he had nothing more he could do to keep the two entities from causing havoc. If they wanted to kill him, he would be dead. He was currently still alive at that point, so he decided to keep his fingers crossed that they wouldn’t actually decide to kill him at a later date.

Al walked purposefully towards the entrance. He slipped the guest card out of his pocket and placed it on the reception desk in front of Nora, before he marched straight out of the building. Andy stared after him, before he turned to Jen.

“So, yeah. That…” He cleared his throat.

“I’d ask you to be careful, but I think you know,” Jen muttered. “Good luck,” she said and made her way back into the facility.

“Thanks,” Andy grumbled to the empty space beside him and got his own card out of his pocket. He went over to the reception desk where Nora gave him a curious look. “Here,” he said and handed her the card.

“Your friend looked a little upset,” Nora said as she took the card. “Is he okay?”

Andy guessed telling the secretary that his ‘friend’ didn’t think the body was killed in a good enough way wasn’t a good idea, so he settled for, “Just seeing a dead body, you know.”

“Ah, yeah.” Nora grimaced. “Not for everyone.”

Andy smiled at her. To be honest, the demon was probably one of the ones who would love to see a dead body, which made it even more surprising that he’d gotten as mad as he seemed to get by the sight of it. Well, unless he took into consideration that he’d known the Bayou Killer personally, and from the reaction they’d probably been pretty good friends. Even Lucifer had said they’d been like siblings back in the 30s. If someone were to honour the Bayou Killer’s kills, and then did something that the Bayou Killer wouldn’t find remotely praise-worthy, well, then he guessed a good friend could definitely be mad on his behalf.

“He’ll be fine,” Andy told the secretary, before he bid her goodbye and made his way out of the building.

It was past noon, and the sun was on its way back down towards the horizon, and Andy hoped Hensley hadn’t left the station. Not that they’d spent that much time in the coroner’s office. Still, he just wanted to get back and talk to the two demons for a moment before he left. He didn’t know what they would do while he was talking to the family.

Al stood beside the car and got in the moment Andy unlocked it. Andy sighed and walked over to the driver’s side and slipped inside. He put the key in the ignition and turned to look at the demon. Al still had a smile on his face, but the tension in his eyes made Andy realise he was still angry.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Just drive, detective,” Al grumbled and leaned his elbow against the windowsill.

Andy couldn’t stop the snort that forced itself out of him as he put his car in drive. It made Al glare at him, which only made Andy grin a little wider. He tried his best to stop smiling, but to be honest, he had a feeling he was in a slight state of shock, just like Thomas and Jen had been.

“Fucking hell,” Andy said, struggling against the sudden bout of giggles that threatened to bubble up his throat. He could feel his voice shake because of them. Al clearly noticed it.

“I don’t see what’s so amusing about…” Al paused and pursed his lips like he actually got it. “Alright.”

Andy lost the fight against the snickers, but he still tried to keep them to a minimum. “I don’t think they expected you to get so mad about it,” he said, voice wavering with barely contained laughter. “You’d make your ‘great grandfather’ proud,” he continued, seeing Al’s smile widen in his peripheral. “I’m surprised you managed to keep up the lie.”

“Well, I couldn’t just call him my friend,” Al huffed, sounding like he wanted to join in on the giggles. “What would they think?”

“No matter what you’d have said I have a feeling they’d think you’d gone mad,” Andy scoffed, making Al snort. The sound made him feel less worried about getting killed.

“Probably,” Al agreed. “I keep forgetting humans care so much about death and people getting killed,” he said. “It didn’t even occur to me that you all would find it disturbing that I got irritated by the fact that I found it incredibly lazy of the copycat to not kill the man himself.”

“Yeah, why did it make you so angry?” Andy asked as he turned down another street. “I mean, I guess I could understand it, technically.” He couldn’t, but he felt like going for a more understanding approach might make the demon more willing to share his point of view.

“My friend was very meticulous about how to do things,” Al told him. “As I said, he wanted them to stay alive while he worked. It was part of the fun for him. Feeling them squirm…” he trailed off, eyes growing distant before he blinked. “Seeing someone using his calling card on an already dead body felt disrespectful. Like the copycat completely misunderstood what he enjoyed about it.”

“Or he didn’t know,” Andy argued quietly. “We’re lacking a lot of information about him, but from what you guys said, I don’t think the copycat has much information about him, either.” He saw the precinct come into view ahead of them. “The Bayou Killer has always been a mystery to most of us, even when we have some information about him. The only way someone would know for sure would be if they could talk to the real killer.” He sighed as he turned into the parking lot. “So, unless you know if one of the other demons have been telling the copycat about him, then I don’t know how he would know anything about it at all.”

“The copycat hasn’t been summoning any demons,” Al stated, making Andy glance at him.

“How do you know?”

“Who wouldn’t use a demon to get rid of the trace he’s been leaving behind?” Al questioned while Andy backed up into his space. “That’s what the Bayou Killer used us for,” he muttered, but it didn’t sound completely genuine. Something else had happened during the killer’s last year on Earth, and the demon clearly decided Andy wasn’t someone who should know what that was.

Andy turned off the car. “Is it possible to talk to the Bayou Killer?” he asked. He’d technically asked about it before, too, but they hadn’t given him a proper answer, which made him feel like they’d just deflected it or ignored the question. That in itself made Andy think they definitely had a way to contact and/or talk to the killer from the 30s, but either didn’t want to, or there was some other reason for it. “You know, even if he’s dead? I’m guessing he’s in Hell.”

Al’s eyes grew a little distant, again, before he turned to look at Andy. There was something unreadable in his expression. “Oh, he ended up in Hell, alright,” he said. “Question is if you’d actually want to talk to him.”

Andy shrugged. “It could help with the case.”

The demon chuckled. “You’re persistent, detective. I’ll give you that.”

“I just want to solve this case,” Andy said, feeling like if he just said it more it would start to feel like he actually meant it. He did want to solve the case, but at some point, his human nature should start to act up and tell him to dial it down. That is, his instincts should’ve kicked in before he summoned a couple of demons. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I noticed,” Al said dryly and got out of the car. Andy followed him. “Still, getting yourself killed in the process seems counterproductive.”

“Fair point,” Andy muttered as they stepped into the precinct.

He nodded at the receptionists before he stepped into the bullpen where Winston and Lucifer seemed to be getting along better than expected. The two of them were actually sitting beside each other and looking through the old files. Lucifer looked up and spotted Al. He grinned at them and waved them over.

“Did you make a new friend, Wince?” Andy asked slyly.

“’Friend’ is a strong word,” Winston muttered, making Lucifer huff. “But he’s been surprisingly helpful, though. I think we have a rough timeline for the kills we have in the pile, at least.”

“Do you?” Al asked, looking at his husband curiously.

“The last ones, at least,” Lucifer said and gestured to a neat pile with different documents and pictures. “Ended up going backwards, but I’m not entirely sure about the oldest kills, so I thought I’d let you take care of those.”

Winston stared at Andy, and Andy knew what Winston wanted to point out, but he still didn’t think the demon was the Bayou Killer. Most likely sinners weren’t allowed to go back to Earth. Why would they? It seemed like it would be pretty problematic, especially if they had some sort of revenge or other plan in mind. He was sure that if the Bayou Killer had the chance, he’d end up going back to Earth just to keep killing people.

“Andy,” Hensley called out, making the four of them turn to look at the detective. He stood with his hands in his pockets beside his desk. “You coming?”

“Yeah, give me a second,” Andy said and turned back to the demons. “I guess I’ll leave you two with Winston while I go talk to the family,” he said, making Winston press his lips into a thin line and duck his head down. “You could probably figure out the rest of the timeline in the meantime.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lucifer said and pushed the remaining files and documents into Al’s hands. “We might join you when we’re done with this, though.”

“I don’t think you need to—”

“Andy,” Hensley said again. Andy gritted his teeth and glanced over his shoulder at the detective, who’d moved two steps towards the entrance. “I’m leaving without you,” he said playfully, taking an exaggerated step.

“Fine, whatever,” Andy said gruffly. “I’ll see you later.”

The two demons grinned at him, Lucifer gave him a small wave, and Winston looked like he wanted to kill him for leaving him with both of them as he made his way over to where Hensley had started walking backwards. The detective grinned at him as he got closer.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

“Shut up, Dylan,” Andy muttered and followed him out of the station.

He just hoped the demons would take their time with sorting the crime scenes so they wouldn’t end up barging in while they talked to the family. He felt like it would be good to have a bit of a break from them, at least. He could always just tell them about it after they’d been there.

Good thing none of them had told them where the family lived. 

(Trying to come up with some sort of drawing for this chapter was surprisingly difficult XD That's what I get for cutting this chapter in half, I guess)

(Thanks Sparky88 for giving me another idea to draw for this chapter XD) 

Chapter Text

“Okay, Andy,” Hensley said as he started up the police cruiser and backed out of his spot. Andy sighed. “You know I normally don’t really mind having extra people in on cases, and we sure as fuck need some good help on this one, but what the actual fuck are you doing bringing in the guys from the bayou?”

Of course, Hensley would question it.

Andy let out another sigh and leaned against the car door. He didn’t know how to answer. He almost wondered if he should just tell him the truth, that he’d been an idiot and summoned a demon and the devil himself after the lieutenant had suggested it as a joke, but he felt like that wouldn’t work out too well.

Then, he remembered one very specific detail that he did know about the two demons. “They live in the house the Bayou Killer lived in,” he told Hensley. “I drove there yesterday and just had a chat with them about it, and they told me the tall guy with the smile is one of the descendants. The house has been in their family since the killer died, but it wasn’t until recently that they got it renovated.”

“I can’t remember reading any of that in the files,” Hensley muttered. “It would’ve been really nice to know when Pierce and I went there half a year ago.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“I haven’t really been on this case until recently,” Hensley said and slowed down for a family crossing the street. “I’ve barely had time to look through the files just during the last couple of months. I had to skim through it, and after that I’ve just been busy with my other case,” he explained. “And either way, when we were there, Pierce acted strange, so I decided it was better to just leave. Like, both times I met those guys, Pierce just glitched out completely.” Hensley sounded genuinely worried about their fellow colleague.

“Yeah, you mentioned,” Andy said and watched the little daughter stop in the middle of the road and point to the cruiser. The father was holding her hand and stopped to look, before he picked her up and let her sit on his shoulders. He waved at them, making the little girl wave, too. Hensley grinned and waved back before he slowly drove forward when the family got to the other side. “He did say he was more stressed than usual around that time.”

“Pierce is always stressed,” Hensley huffed and sped up. “Did you find out anything new, by the way? Did he say anything of interest while you were at the coroner’s office?”

“I don’t know,” Andy muttered exasperatedly. “He ended up getting mad because he felt the murderer wasn’t killing people well enough, and then he left.”

Hensley snorted. “Seriously?”

“I’m not saying these people are normal,” Andy scoffed.

Hensley chuckled. “I could’ve told you that,” he said with a grin. “It’s pretty funny, since the first time I met Mr. Morn—the blond one, I thought he was holding a creamer full of blood.”

Andy stared at him. “Really?” he asked, feeling his stomach turn. Not only was the chance that Lucifer had been holding a creamer full of blood extremely likely, but he also knew who it was most likely for. The devil hadn’t been too keen on Andy’s blood, but his husband? Well, he’d held a bowl of pig’s blood and asked if it was human or deer, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t.

Actually, the more he thought about it, the less the two demons’ interactions made sense. They said they knew the Bayou Killer. They said they’d been there personally for the last year he was active. Then there was the anger Al had shown when he checked the body of the latest victim. He’d said it was his great grandfather’s lover who joined him and held their victims still while the killer carved him up and listened to their screams.

Or, you know, maybe instead of a lover, it was a husband?

“Oh, fuck,” Andy blurted out, feeling his heart start to hammer in his chest. He ignored Hensley’s curious glance.

The two demons in the bayou. The devil himself and the strange demon named Al who liked human blood and knew the killer like his own, fucking sibling. The same bastards who lived in the same house as the fucking killer. The assholes who’d apparently decided that they had no intentions of telling Andy about who Al really was.

Al.

Fucking Alastor.

The damned Bayou Killer in the fucking flesh.

Somehow married to the fucking devil himself, which was somehow the least surprising thing about this entire thing.

Oh, Andy was a fucking idiot. He should’ve listened to Winston.

Oh, fucking damn it, Winston had been right.

Damn it, he owed Winston an apology.

Winston was currently with the devil and the Bayou Killer.

“They could be fucking twins,” Andy snarled, hitting the door panel hard enough to make his hand hurt. “God fucking damn it,” he hissed and curled and uncurled his fingers to deal with the pain.

“You want to fill me in on this sudden revelation of yours?” Hensley asked, sounding almost a little worried, making Andy turn to him. The detective’s sharp eyes scanned him, making Andy regret his outburst immediately. Not only did he not want to tell the other that he’d just realised that the guy he’d summoned was the literal fucking radio host (The RaDiO DeMoN) turned serial killer, Alastor, but that he and his husband, the damned devil, was walking around and fucking trying to convince him they just knew the fucking killer. Fucking friends. Besties. Those two fuckers had been best friends, alright. They’d been making friendship bracelets with fucking intestines, probably. How the fuck. Did. He. Not. Realise?!  “Seemed pretty intense.”

Lucifer’s ability to sense sinners came to mind, and Andy closed his eyes when he thought back to Al—Alastor telling him his husband definitely knew it if he was dealing with a serial killer. Of course, Lucifer had fucking known Al was a serial killer. He’d sensed it, and then the two of them had teamed up for some fucking reason to kill more people.

Andy wanted to scream. He wouldn’t, because his fucking colleague was sitting there giving him concerned glances.

Andy buried his face in his hands and pushed his palms into his eye sockets just to try and get rid of the sudden headache that decided to make its appearance. He actually hoped that he had an aneurism so he didn’t have to keep dealing with this fucking situation.

Actually, no, he hoped Lucifer had used his powers on him just to make it less obvious for him that Al had been the Bayou Killer all along. The alternative was so much worse.

Winston had fucking realised it instantly!

How could Andy call himself a fucking detective when he hadn’t seen what was right in front of him ever since the damned grin on Al’s face when Lucifer had started talking about their friend?! Actually, it was even worse than that.

They’d both been laughing—no, they’d been fucking cackling when Andy asked them for help with a copycat that was copying the Bayou Killer! And Andy had thought it was because of what? What exactly had Andy thought made them laugh at him? For being too stupid to manage to solve a case and ended up summoning demons?! No, he had no idea what he’d been thinking. He’d been in such a state of shock, he didn’t understand a single shit at the time.

“Twins, Dyl,” Andy spat. “What if the fucking Bayou Killer had a twin?!” He hated himself so much in that moment. “That would fucking explain it, wouldn’t it? The descendant, the way the murders kept going after he supposedly died. What if it wasn’t the radio host, but a secret twin?!”

Hensley frowned. “Wouldn’t that guy know which one of them was his great grandfather?”

“I don’t know? Maybe he doesn’t know about it? Maybe they all kept it secret even from him? If they were identical twins, then he’d still have the same DNA as the killer. He’d just be his uncle instead.” Andy felt like he was digging himself into a grave, and while that was a fun thought, he also really wanted to get the fuck back to the precinct so he could confront the fucking serial killer and his husband who’d been fucking playing him, and then he’d probably try and knock some sense into the fucking demon, who then would probably kill him for it, but it would be worth it, because Andy would land that fucking punch if it was the last thing he did. He was fucking fuming, but with the detective there, he needed to pretend he was excited about his theory. “Wouldn’t that be something, Dyl? A fucking twin?” It came off as something closer to completely unhinged, but what can you do?

Hensley was quiet for a moment, staring out of the windshield in thought. “I mean, I guess? It could add up, technically. We don’t have that much info on the Bayou Killer, so a twin could work.”

“I’ll start checking medical records when I get back to the precinct,” Andy grumbled. He would pretend to do that after talking to the two demons and giving them some choice words about what he thought about their fucking prank. He’d even known they were up to something, and he hadn’t thought that was something they would prank him with! Of course, they would try and trick him about that! Why wouldn’t they?! They were demons! And one of them had been a fucking serial killer.

“I hope you find something,” Hensley muttered as he pulled up in front of the apartment building where the victim’s mother lived. “Ready for this?”

“I’m never ready for—” Andy stopped talking and froze. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he snapped and threw the door open. He tried to get out only to get stuck in his seatbelt. He cursed as he managed to unbuckle it and almost stumbled in his haste to get out of the car. He slammed the door shut behind him as he pointed at the two demons strolling down the street in front of him. They were both wearing fucking sunglasses and looking smug as fuck. Lucifer was more or less hanging off of Al’s elbow where the two of them waltzed towards him. “You!” he yelled.

“Us!” Lucifer yelled cheerfully back at him. “I hope you don’t mind—”

“Shut it!” Andy snarled and stomped over to meet them. His finger was still pointed at the fucking Radio Demon. “You,” he spat. “You absolute fucking—” He cut himself off, spluttering. No words seemed to be harsh enough for how much he fucking despised that damned demon. “I hate you,” he said instead. “I hate you both so fucking much.”

“Aw,” Lucifer said, smiling like he found Andy adorable.

“Whatever did I do to earn such a high regard?” Al asked, tilting his head with a vicious grin. The round sunglasses hid his eyes, but Andy could’ve sworn he saw his irises flash behind the dark glass. It was just for a moment. Andy knew it was a warning.

However, Andy couldn’t give less of a shit about it.

“You’ve been fucking laughing at me behind my back ever since I fucking summoned you,” Andy hissed at them.

“Laughing in front of you, too, actually,” Lucifer muttered under his breath.

“Fuck off,” Andy growled.

“Took you long enough,” Al said, which didn’t help with the feeling of complete and utter stupidity that Andy had been struggling with for the past three minutes. “What made you realise it?”

“You could’ve just fucking told me from the fucking start!” He saw Lucifer about to answer him and interrupted him by pointing his finger at him, instead. “Don’t you fucking start with that damned ‘what’s the fun in that’ junk. I’m so fucking done being the butt of your fucking jokes.” Lucifer held up his free hand in surrender, but the smile was still plastered on his lips. Andy took a moment to calm down. He curled his hands into fists, lowered his shoulders, straightened his back, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, before he uncurled his fingers slowly, and exhaled. “What would happen if I hit you?”

“You’d suddenly and inexplicably catch fire and die,” Lucifer told him.

“Alright,” Andy said and opened his eyes with the fakest grin he could muster. “The fucking Bayou Killer. Alastor. What a fucking pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh, calm down,” Alastor huffed. Andy suddenly felt like he wanted to chance the instant combustion. “The only thing we kept from you was who I was,” he said calmly. “Other than that, I think we’ve been pretty truthful with you, haven’t we, dear?”

“Pretty much,” Lucifer agreed. “Look, detective,” he continued with a surprisingly kind smile. “There’s just something so incredibly funny about being summoned, and then it’s because of something as insane as a copycat killer trying to mimic your husband’s old kills.” He grinned. “The odds for that are insanely small, and it gave us one, single opportunity to mess with you.”

“I guess we didn’t have to, but it’s been a lot of fun,” Alastor joined in.

“For you,” Andy grumbled under his breath.

“Of course! But I must say, it’s been quite enjoyable for other reasons, too,” Alastor said. “If I knew police work was this interesting, I might’ve done it back when I was still human.”

“And I mean,” Lucifer took over with a grin. “Isn’t this technically the best possible outcome? You somehow summoned the one person in this universe that could help you out the best with information about the Bayou Killer, all by chance.” Andy lowered his accusatory finger and pursed his lips. Lucifer had a point. Not only had Andy summoned demons who knew the killer from the 30s, he’s accidentally summoned the killer from the 30s, which would be an incredibly valuable asset when trying to find out who the copycat was.

Andy took another deep breath, feeling his initial anger start to calm down slightly. “You’re right,” he muttered and glanced at Alastor. “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“We have a deal, and I’m not about to break that just because you figured out who I am,” Alastor told him with a grin. “And as I said, it’s been quite amusing to see you work. I never had much respect for the police back when I was alive, and while I still don’t respect a lot of them, I feel like you’ve deserved at least some recognition.” He tilted his head and adjusted his glasses. “Even if you did take this long to realise my identity.”

“Oh, come on,” Andy scoffed before he glanced at Lucifer. “Please tell me you used your powers on me just to keep me in the dark.”

Lucifer smirked and placed his thumb and index close together. “Just a smidge,” he said.

“Thank fuck,” Andy breathed in relief, rubbing a hand over his eyes and combed his fingers through his hair. “Thought I’d lost my fucking mind there, for a second.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Hensley stand by the car, staring at them. His expression was slightly pinched, and Andy had a feeling his colleague was having trouble understanding how the two of them had gotten to the right apartment at the same time as them. He looked at Lucifer. “I’m guessing you’re done helping Winston with the files?”

“It took much less time when Al helped us out,” Lucifer said, “so we thought we could join you talking to the family. They won’t notice us,” he assured Andy, who still felt a little sceptical about actually bringing them inside. Lucifer must’ve noticed, because another one of those strange smiles stretched across his cheeks. “It could help. Even if the copycat didn’t kill the victim, we still need to find who did it, right?”

“Right,” Andy agreed and put his hands in his pockets. “Just to be clear, though,” he said, giving Lucifer a scrutinizing look. “You do know who it is?”

“The copycat?” Lucifer asked. Andy nodded. “I can’t say for sure, but I know who I’m going to put my bet on, if that’s what you’d like to know.” He grinned sharply. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No,” Andy said quickly and realised he meant it. It had been close to three years. He’d been working his ass off just to try and figure it out together with the rest of his team, and they had been stuck for a long time. He didn’t mind a hint, but he did actually mind just straight up being told who it was. The thought of Lucifer and Alastor joining him on the case had felt like a waste of time in the beginning, but now? Now he realised it would feel immensely much better to have figured it out himself, or managing to make some sort of connection that would make it easier to build a legal case against the killer. “Just having you here as help with the old cases is enough,” he added. “I want to find out myself.”

“What happens if you don’t?” Lucifer asked. Andy frowned at him. “If the killer reveals himself without you figuring it out?”

Andy sighed. “Well, I think as long as a couple of demons don’t tell me who it is, I’ll be fine,” he replied, making Lucifer huff. “The point is that I just don’t want to do it the easy way.” Alastor raised an eyebrow. “If we don’t count summoning demons and making a deal with them in the first place,” he added dryly. “I never planned for it to work. You know that.”

“We do,” Alastor said. “But it did, and while you might not have thought it would work, you decided to take the opportunity as it presented itself.”

“I was in shock and thought I was dreaming,” Andy scoffed, making Alastor snicker.

“Andy!” Hensley yelled. Andy turned to look at him. The detective had moved closer to the entrance to the apartment. “Are you coming?”

“Come on, then,” Andy muttered and nodded for the two demons to follow him. His mind started to wonder if maybe trusting the literal serial killer the copycat was copying wasn’t the best idea, but Alastor had been surprisingly helpful even while Andy didn’t know who he was. And they had a deal, which, yeah, Andy couldn’t trust that completely, either. Not when Alastor was the only one who’d made a deal out of it. He glanced at them where they followed him. “I might’ve just told Hensley that your great grandfather could’ve had a twin, by the way,” he told Alastor, who’s eyebrows shot up.

“I assure you, I had no siblings,” Alastor huffed. “Thankfully,” he added quietly, making Andy think the guy either would’ve done something to said sibling, or there was something else that had happened in his family. The demon seemed to notice his expression. “Don’t worry about it, detective. I’ll play along with your twin theory, if you want me to.”

“I mean, if it works,” Andy muttered. “Your skills with a knife ended up throwing off most of us.”

“I got a lot of training when I started hunting animals,” Alastor informed him, before he leaned forwards and whispered, “and then I started keeping humans in my basement to experiment on.”

Andy grimaced, feeling a chill go down his spine. He then tried to make said grimace turn into something closer to a smile, which didn’t go too well, as they got closer to Hensley. The detective watched them approach, eyes flickering between the three of them.

“I thought I said you couldn’t join this one?” he asked when they got over to him.

“You were actually very happy about bringing us with you,” Lucifer argued, and while Andy had seen it before, by then, it was still a little perplexing to see Hensley’s expression change from guarded and uncertain to completely welcoming. “We joined you in the cruiser.”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Hensley said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I completely forgot for a moment, there.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Lucifer said, which seemed to relax the detective even more. “Shall we?” He gestured to the door.

Hensley nodded and walked up the few steps until they reached the entrance. Andy and the demons followed him and let him press the right doorbell. They waited patiently, and soon enough, the speaker crackled to life.

“Hello?” a shaky voice said.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. North,” Hensley replied. “I’m Detective Dylan Hensley from the New Orleans Police Department. You talked to my colleagues last night about your son.”

“Oh,” the voice croaked. She cleared her throat, but it didn’t help with the shakiness. “Yes,” she continued. “The officer mentioned you’d be coming back today.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“That’s alright,” Hensley assured her. “We just want to talk to you to be able to figure out who’s behind this, okay?”

“Yes,” Mrs. North said. “I’ll… I’ll let you in,” she told them, and a moment later, the door unlocked.

“Thank you,” Hensley said, grabbed the doorhandle and pulled the door open. “I have a few colleagues with me, too, just so you’re aware.”

There was a hesitation on the other end of the line, and Lucifer spoke up. “You won’t even notice us,” he said.

“I won’t even notice you,” the woman said. “Come on up, then,” she added.

They thanked her, again, before they made their way inside the building and over to the elevator. Hensley pressed the button and the four of them stood there, waiting for it. Andy glanced over to the two demons. They’d put away their sunglasses, and Alastor was back wearing his regular ones. Andy saw Lucifer still had his hand in the crook of Alastor’s elbow. It was probably the most constant show of affection he’d seen from them.

That is until he glanced back and noticed their shadows on the ground. He’d seen Alastor’s shadow move on its own, like it was disconnected form the demon itself. Andy was reminded of how Alastor had mentioned that Lucifer could pretty much copy the other demon’s powers. Their shadows were holding hands, Lucifer’s grinning up at Alastor’s, before the taller demon’s shadow seemed to bend down to press a quick peck to the devil’s forehead. Andy supressed a huff as he turned back to look at the numbers on the elevator display.

The elevator arrived, and the four of them stepped into it. Hensley pressed the button for the seventh floor, the doors closed and they let the elevator bring them up. It stopped at the third floor where an older gentleman shuffled into the tight space with his walker. They moved to give him some space, making Andy press up against Lucifer, whose face split into a devilish grin. The devil leaned over a little.

“Murderer,” he whispered, almost inaudibly as the doors closed behind the old man.

Andy turned to look at him, eyes wide. Alastor chortled quietly beside his husband.

“You’re not trying to fuck with me, again, are you?” Andy grumbled, keeping his voice down, hoping the other two humans in the elevator didn’t hear him.

“I’m serious,” Lucifer replied. “Don’t know what he did, but something bad, for sure. You don’t get that amount of sin just from tax evasion, if you know what I mean?”

“Damn,” Andy muttered as the doors opened at the sixth floor and the old man stepped out of the elevator. He guessed he was going to visit someone else in the building. He almost felt a bit worried about letting the man go, especially if he’d done something. “Do you know when he did it?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Not really.”

“Too bad,” Andy said as the doors once again closed and the elevator took them up to the seventh floor. “I’d have liked to know. Maybe there was some disappearances that we could connect to him or something.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Your enthusiasm is admirable, detective,” he said as the doors opened.

They stepped out into a white corridor with a grey carpet and let Hensley take the lead. Andy wondered what would happen when they brought the two demons into the woman’s home, if they would end up actually staying in the background like Lucifer had said they would, or if they would end up taking over the interview. They needed information, and while Andy still felt a little opposed to having them ask questions, he also knew they would probably ask better ones just because they had more knowledge on the older cases and what types of victims Alastor had gone after.

“Let me do the talking,” Hensley said as they came to a stop in front of a door with a beside it. The green plant looked well taken care of. A small welcome sign with a family of three plus a small dog hung on the wall over the doorbell. Hensley pressed the button and they could hear a muffled melody coming from the apartment, accompanied by the barks of a small dog.

“Of course,” Alastor murmured.

“You’ll be fine,” Lucifer told him and patted his arm. “I’ll talk to it.”

Andy was about to ask if they were okay when the door opened a crack. The four of them heard a bit of a struggle as the older woman on the other side of the door tried to tell the dog to stay inside. It growled and continued to bark, while also trying to press its little head past the woman’s leg.

“Sit, Rosie,” the woman said. The dog didn’t listen.

“We’re okay with dogs,” Lucifer informed her, even if Alastor looked like he was anything but. “Just let her out.”

“If you say so,” Mrs. North said and opened the door a little more, letting the fluffy, white, little dog shoot out into the hallway. A Bichon Frisé, Andy noted as it spotted the two demons and immediately froze. The demons stared down at it as it sniffed the air and flinched backwards. “What’s wrong, Rosie? You usually love people.”

Andy almost wanted to tell her these weren’t just regular people.

Lucifer seemed to have the same thought and crouched down. He smiled at it and held his hand out for it, but it didn’t dare move closer to him.

“Rosie is a lovely name,” Lucifer told it gently, making its ears perk up. “We have a very good friend with that name. She’s amazing.” The dog tilted its head and let out a small whine. “Oh, really? He must’ve had a great taste in names, then.” Mrs. North furrowed her brow. Lucifer paid her no mind and kept talking to the dog. Rosie took a tentative step forward. Then another. She still kept a little distance between them. “Did your mom give you that pink bow?” Lucifer asked, pointing at the bow keeping the dog’s fur out of its eyes. “It suits you.” The dog stepped closer until it could sniff the devil’s fingers. “Nice to meet you.”

The dog seemed to relax and started wagging its tail a few times.

“You seem to have a way with dogs, Mr…?” Mrs. North trailed off.

“Morn,” Lucifer said, still keeping his eyes on the dog.

“He has a way with most animals,” Alastor informed the woman quietly, and Andy had to stop himself from mentioning the damned alligator the guy had petted like it was a fucking house cat.

“My husband doesn’t have the best experience with dogs, so just give him some space, okay?” Lucifer asked the dog, who let out an excited bark and licked his finger, before it looked up at Alastor and wagged its tail.

“Hello,” Alastor said, and the dog paused, before its tail wagged more violently. Still, it made no move to get closer to him. “Why don’t you show us inside, Rosie?”

The dog jumped a little before it hurried past its owner into the apartment, much to both Hensley and the woman’s astonishment. Andy felt like his shock would’ve been bigger if it hadn’t been for the fact that the two demons had made him step over the mentioned alligator. Seeing them communicate with other animals was still pretty impressive, though. And quite cute, if Andy was being honest.

“Please,” Mrs. North said and opened the door a little wider. “Come in.”

“Thank you,” Hensley said, following her into the apartment. She wasn’t too old, Andy decided. Maybe her early sixties at the most. Her son had been in his early thirties when he died. “You’ve got a lovely home, here, Mrs. North,” Hensley complimented as he made his way through the narrow hallway.

“It’s not too special,” the woman muttered. “Enough for me and Rosie,” she said and made her way into the small kitchen area. She stopped in front of the fridge, looking a little lost, before she seemed to crumble. “Sorry,” she mumbled and wiped her hands over her cheeks.

“Would you like some tea, Mrs. North?” Lucifer asked kindly. “My husband is the best tea-maker I know. Just point us to the kettle and we’ll fix it.”

Mrs. North pulled in a shaky breath and pointed to one of the cupboards. “The kettle’s in there, and you can find the tea in the drawer over by the sink,” she informed them. “I think I’ll go and sit down.”

“Do that,” Lucifer encouraged her and stepped past her, Alastor following close behind. “We’ll have it ready in just a moment.”

“Thank you,” she said and stepped over to the couches. She sat down in the two-seater and put her head in her hands. Rosie trotted over to her, holding a small toy. It looked like a goldfish. “Not now, Rosie,” she told the dog, who let the toy fall to the ground in front of her. Andy wondered if the dog knew what had happened. He almost wanted to ask Lucifer about it.

“She just wants to cheer you up,” Hensley told her and sat down in the armchair on the other side of the glass coffee table. “She knows you’re upset.”

Mrs. North swallowed thickly and reached down, petting the dog’s head. “I know,” she said and continued to run her hand over the soft fur. “Oh, Rosie,” she sniffled and picked the dog up. “At least I have you,” she whimpered, letting the dog down in her lap. It jumped up on its hind legs and tried to lick Mrs. North’s cheek, but she leaned away from it.

Andy watched Lucifer and Alastor get the kettle and the tea, before he went over to the cupboards to try and find some cups to use. He found them on his third try, and got out five cups and placed them on the counter. He leaned against he counter and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for the two demons to finish the tea. All he could hear was Mrs. North’s quiet snivels.

It didn’t take too long before Alastor had the tea ready and poured it into the cups. Lucifer took two of them and made his way over to the crying woman and placed it down in front of her on the coffee table, before he walked over to Hensley and gave him the second cup. Alastor picked up a cup and handed it to Andy, before he got the last two and followed his husband over to the three-seater, where he sat down. Lucifer sank down beside him and took the cup Alastor offered him, before he took a sip of the steaming liquid. Andy joined them, taking the last free space on the couch, closest to Mrs. North.

“I’m sure you know what we’re here to talk about, Mrs. North?” Hensley asked.

“Yeah,” the woman croaked, petting the dog in her lap. “My little Frank,” she said, voice breaking at the name. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, rubbing a hand over her cheek. “I just…” She trailed off, swallowed and clenched her jaw. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me after what happened to Jim.”

“Your husband, right?” Hensley asked.

“Yeah,” Mrs. North confirmed with a nod. “Yeah, my husband.” She reached out and picked up her teacup.

“It’s not easy to deal with losing two of the most important people in your life,” Hensley continued gently. “It feels like you can just call them, and they’ll answer right away, but then they don’t. It’s painful. The world feels a little emptier without them.”

“Yeah,” Mrs. North cried.

Lucifer lowered his teacup. “If you don’t mind me saying, Mrs. North,” he started, making Hensley give him a look that Andy knew meant he wanted the devil to shut up. Lucifer ignored him, however. “I think your boys are doing well. You’ll be able to meet them again, one day. I’m sure of it.”

Mrs. North’s lips wobbled. “You really think so, Mr. Morn?”

“I know so,” Lucifer told her confidently. The woman seemed to believe him, her lips turning up into a hopeful smile. “Trust me.”

Mrs. North nodded. “I’m looking forward to it,” she whispered.

Lucifer smiled at her. Andy glanced at him, before he looked over to Hensley, who was still looking a little uncertain.

“What kind of person is your son?” Lucifer asked. Andy noted the way he didn’t talk about him like he was dead, but rather still alive. The woman smiled brighter.

“Oh, he’s the best,” she gushed, which made the devil straighten his back slightly. He gave Alastor a look Andy couldn’t interpret, before he turned back to the woman. “He tries to visit me as often as he can. A few times a week, usually,” she continued. “Sometimes he brings his girlfriend over. It’s pretty serious, I think. He told me last week that he was thinking about proposing to her.”

“Did he?” Lucifer asked.

“Oh, yes!” Mrs. North grinned. “The two of them have been almost inseparable since they met a few years ago. Such a lovely girl. Rosie loves her,” she said and ruffled the dog’s fur. Rosie leaned into the touch. “Maddie,” the woman informed them. “The kindest person on the planet, I’d say.”

“I’m sure she is,” Lucifer chuckled. “They haven’t had any trouble in their relationship at all?”

“Not that I know of,” Mrs. North said thoughtfully. “Not since the early days, but that wasn’t Frank’s fault. They had a mutual friend, you see.”

“Did they?” Lucifer asked curiously.

“Nick Malley,” Mrs. North scoffed. “The three of them became friends in college. If I’m not mistaken, Nick had a bit of a crush on Maddie. I don’t know what happened between them, but I think they had a falling-out because of it. I don’t think I saw Nick much after Frank and Maddie got together.”

Andy saw Hensley pull out his notepad and scribble something down. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what.

“Too bad,” Lucifer muttered. “What did you think of Nick?”

Mrs. North sighed and placed her teacup back down on the table in front of her. Rosie took the opportunity to try and lick her owner’s chin. The woman let out a quiet huff and continued to pet her.

“I don’t know too much about him,” Mrs. North admitted, scratching Rosie behind the ear. “He’s a strong guy, I guess. Dropped out of college after a year or so. I remember Frank being quite upset about it, even.” Hensley continued to take notes. Andy took a sip of his tea, feeling like this would’ve been so much more challenging without the demon and his powers. Well, so much for Lucifer not interfering, but if he helped the woman cope with the death of her son, which was supposedly one of the worst kinds of grief a person could experience, as well as the death of her husband, then Andy would take it. He couldn’t be mad about it, at least. It also gave them information a lot faster than if she’d been sobbing uncontrollably, which would’ve been understandable, of course, but it would also make trying to have a conversation a metaphorical mine field. “He ended up working in construction, instead, from what Frank told me.”

“Do you know where he’s working, now?” Andy found himself asking, making the woman frown and glance at him. She blinked a couple of times, like she suddenly remembered where she was and what had happened. Her eyes widened and went glossy, before a few tears ran down her chin.

“No,” she said. “No, sorry, I don’t know what’s…?” She ran a hand over her cheek, wiping away the tears. “I haven’t seen him in years,” she muttered. “I don’t know. I don’t think he’d…” She shook her head, wiping away more tears. “Not Frankie.”

“Do you know of anyone else that could be behind this?” Lucifer asked, once again making the woman seem less upset. Her eyes found the devil’s, making her visibly relax, like he was a reminder that she would see her family again, one day. “No one he disliked? No one he had trouble with? Anything like that?”

“He’s loved by everyone he knows,” Mrs. North said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be in trouble with anyone, at least. Not that I can think of. He’s always been very proper. Barely drinks, never smoked a cigarette in his life. Especially not after Jim.”

“Seems like he earned his spot up there,” Lucifer said, making the woman grin and let out a choked sob. He stayed quiet for a while, letting her get through the worst of it. Andy was a little impressed by how well he handled the situation. He’d never thought the devil could be compassionate. Not like this, at least. “Do you think there’s anything else we should know about him that could help us figure this out?” Lucifer asked quietly.

Mrs. North shook her head. Lucifer nodded and glanced at Andy. Andy took it as him trying to tell him there wasn’t much more they would get out of her. Not that day, but possibly some other day if they found something else while going through Frank’s things.

He looked over to where Hensley had gotten his phone out and was typing something. Andy cleared his throat, getting the detective’s attention. Hensley put his phone down, before he turned to Mrs. North.

“Thank you so much for your time, then, Mrs. North,” he said, put his notepad and phone back in his pocket, before he got up from his seat. He took the teacup and drank the rest of his tea while the rest of them got up. “If you think of anything else that could help us, please don’t hesitate calling the number my colleagues gave you last night, okay?”

“Yes,” Mrs. North said. “Yes, of course. I’ll tell you if I do.” She pushed Rosie off of her lap and onto the couch beside her before she got up. The dog jumped down onto the floor and got its toy. Mrs. North looked over to Alastor and Lucifer. “Thank you for the tea. I’ll enjoy the rest of it after you’ve left,” she told them.

“No problem,” Lucifer said. “Sorry we’re leaving you with the dishes.”

“I’ve got a dishwasher, hon,” she retorted, making Lucifer grin. The woman stepped around the table and pulled the devil into a hug. Lucifer clearly hadn’t expected it, given his shocked expression, but he hugged her back just the same. “Thank you,” she murmured into his shoulder. “You gave me hope. You’re an angel.”

Lucifer looked a little stunned, before his expression melted into a gentle smile. “Just make sure to live out your life. People tend to be a little mad if you get up there too early.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said. “I have a job to do, now.” She grinned as she pulled away from him. “I want to honour him as much as I can. Go where he wanted to go, see what he wanted to see, if you know what I mean?”

“That’s a wonderful plan,” Lucifer said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m sure he’ll love to hear about it.”

Her smile turned wobbly, again. “Yeah.”

Andy felt Rosie brush past him with her toy. It squeaked, making Lucifer and Mrs. North glance down at the animal. Lucifer chuckled and let go of Mrs. North, before he crouched down in front of Rosie.

“What do you have there?” he asked. The dog let out a playful growl, making the devil snicker. “Is it your favourite?” Rosie spat it out, making it land wetly on the hardwood floor. Lucifer picked it up. “You need to take care of this one, okay?” The dog stared at him and tilted her head. “It’s from Frankie, isn’t it?” Rosie yapped. “Thought so.” He looked at the toy in his hand. Rosie seemed to notice his seriousness. She stepped closer and bumped the fish with her nose. Lucifer lowered his voice. “Frankie isn’t coming back, I’m afraid.”

Yeah, okay, that stung.

Andy watched the dog’s tail stop wagging before it let out a quiet whine. Mrs. North’s eyes widened before she placed a trembling hand over her mouth.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said and handed the toy back to the little creature. “So, take care of this.” Rosie took the toy carefully, making the devil smile. “Keep an eye on your mom, too, okay?”

The dog looked up at her owner and let out a small whimper, before she walked over to Mrs. North. The woman picked up the dog, immediately, and cradled her against her, kissing the top of her head. Rosie kept the toy in her mouth.

“Are we ready to go, then?” Alastor asked from where he’d stepped over into the kitchen with the teacups. Andy hadn’t even noticed him taking them all. He’d been too focused on the mother and the dog.

Lucifer gave Mrs. North another, encouraging grin and stepped past her over to his husband. Hensley and Andy followed suit, before they made their way into the hallway and out of the apartment. Mrs. North stopped in the doorway, her dog still under her arm.

“Remember to call if you think of something else,” Hensley reminded her gently.

The woman nodded. “I will,” she promised. “Please find who did this.”

“We’ll try our best, ma’am,” Hensley said. “Take care, alright?”

Mrs. North nodded, again. She gave Lucifer one more smile before they all said their goodbyes and let her close the door. Lucifer gave another, almost worried look to Alastor, who seemed to share his concern. They glanced at Andy, before they started walking back towards the elevator. Andy and Hensley went after them.

“Thank you, Mr. Morn, for helping out,” Hensley said as they reached the elevator. Lucifer pressed the ‘down’ button. “You have a way with people, too.”

Lucifer huffed. “Some empathy goes a long way,” he replied as they stepped into the elevator and started the journey back down. Some demonic powers, too, Andy added internally as he leaned against the elevator wall.

“Did you get anything from that conversation?” Hensley continued to question. He got his phone back out from his pocket. “We have a couple of people we definitely need to talk to, but other than that, I don’t know how much she gave us.”

“Well,” Alastor said, placing his hands behind his back. “If we take the old cases into consideration, the Bayou Killer would never go after someone like Frank. However, given the circumstances with the copycat most likely not being the killer, in this case, we can’t know if this was something the copycat didn’t know.”

Hensley frowned. “What do you mean ‘someone like Frank’?”

Alastor tilted his head. “Someone kind.” Lucifer nodded in agreement while Alastor continued. “Someone who never got into trouble. The Bayou Killer wouldn’t go after anyone he thought didn’t deserve it in some way.”

“Really?” Hensley asked. “I guess the files didn’t say anything about that.”

“Of course not,” Alastor scoffed. “It’s not like the police back then cared much about rapists and wife beaters.” Andy felt a rush of understanding wash over him. There had to be a reason why Alastor had gone after such people. He’d been grateful for not having a sibling. “And they certainly didn’t care much about finding out why they’d been targeted. I’m sure they thought it was because of some idiotic thing like him wanting to go up against people bigger than him.”

“Something like that,” Andy muttered, recalling that the main theory about why Alastor had gone after mostly burly guys was that he had a certain ‘type’. He decided to keep that to himself, though.

The doors opened and the four of them stepped out into the foyer. Hensley made a quick phone call as they made their way out of the building and over to the cruiser. Lucifer looked lost in thought. Alastor looked mildly annoyed, and Andy was struggling trying to figure out ways to wrap all of this into a proper case against the copycat. This could be an associate, or it could just be some regular, old murder case that had nothing to do with the copycat except for getting cut up like the copycat did to his victims.

“Okay, guys,” Hensley said, getting everyone’s attention. “Winston said he found Nick. Should be working on a construction site in the Garden District.” He unlocked the car and the four of them moved to get inside. Hensley sat down in the driver’s seat, Andy in the passenger’s seat while Lucifer and Alastor climbed into the back. “We’ll drop you off at the precinct,” Hensley told the two demons.

“No, you won’t,” Lucifer said.

“No, I won’t,” Hensley said and started the car. Andy huffed, making Hensley glance at him with a raised eyebrow like he couldn’t understand why he was laughing. “I just hope we’ll get some information out of this Nick-guy,” the detective drawled after turning his gaze back on the road. “If they were friends, maybe he knows something more about Frank? I don’t know if he would’ve told his mother if he was involved in some shady business.”

“Would he have told Nick about it, though?” Andy asked as they drove down Jackson Avenue. “If Nick and Frank stopped talking to each other after Frank got together with Maddie, then why would he talk to Nick if he got into trouble? Wouldn’t Maddie have more information about it?”

Hensley shrugged. “He could at least know Frank’s character a bit better than what his mother does. Last time I checked, children rarely tell their parents what they do. Especially if they’re afraid of the consequences.”

Andy hummed. It never hurt talking to the guy, of course, but while Nick probably had some information about Frank, he still wasn’t sure how much he knew about Frank’s current life. Or death, now, technically.

He found himself hoping Frank North actually was like the angel Mrs. North told them about. For her sake, at least. Finding out someone you love aren’t who you think they are could potentially make the grief she felt even worse. She seemed like such a kind and loving woman. She definitely hadn’t deserved losing so much. He just hoped her dog would stay alive for a long time.

“Should be down here,” Hensley muttered and turned down another street. They could see the construction site just up ahead, and Andy prepared himself to talk to another person about Frank’s death. It hadn’t reached the public, yet, and Andy hoped the guy would be cooperative. Having him be defensive and such didn’t really help much. Of course, if anything, he guessed he had Lucifer there to help them out.

He scoffed at himself for thinking about using the devil instead of figuring this out on his own.

The car rolled to a stop beside the construction site, and Andy wasted no time getting out of the car. The demons were close behind, and the three of them waited for Hensley before they all crossed the busy street and went over to where a new building was being constructed. The workers glanced curiously at them, before one of the guys resting a long, wooden plank over his shoulder stopped in front of them.

“Can I help you with something, officers?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Hensley said and pulled out his phone and showed him the screen. “We’re looking for someone named Nick Walley. Does he work here?”

“Nick’s in trouble?” the man asked, looking over his shoulder at the structure. “Hey Nick!” he shouted. It took a moment before someone else yelled, and then a head poked out of a half-finished window on the second floor. It was clearly Nick Walley. A wide-shouldered, rough-looking guy with short, dark hair. His eyes widened when they landed on the cops and the demons. “What the fuck did you do?” the guy they were talking to asked.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Walley. We’re just here to talk to you,” Hensley yelled up at him before giving him a reassuring smile. “Do you mind coming down here?”

Nick continued to stare at them for a moment, eyes darting from one to the other, and then to the guy they’d been talking to. “I’ll be down in a minute,” he said before he pushed himself away from the window.

Lucifer smirked at Alastor, making Andy’s heart beat slightly faster. Something about the guy had caught the devil’s attention, and while he hoped it wasn’t that the man had done something horrible, he still couldn’t shake the adrenaline rush that threatened to spill out into his blood.

“Is there a backdoor in this fine establishment, perhaps?” Lucifer asked the guy with the plank.

“Uhm, yeah? Why—”

“Oh, for fucking crying out loud,” Andy snapped and launched himself forward into a sprint and ran into the building. Hensley yelled after him. Andy could hear Lucifer cackling behind him. He could feel the demon at his heels as he jumped over buckets of paint, toolboxes, planks and other materials. “You couldn’t just fucking say he was going to run?!” Andy yelled over his shoulder as he grabbed onto a doorframe to get around a corner. He’d spotted an open window and went for it.

“Hah! No!” Lucifer laughed as he went for another unfinished window.

Andy cursed to himself as he jumped through the window and out onto the muddy ground outside. He slipped and struggled to catch his footing, only for Lucifer to grab his arm and pull him with him. Andy flailed with his free arm as he finally managed to get his feet properly under him. Lucifer let go.

Andy shouted for the construction workers to move out of the way, and dodged ladders, planks and people as he made his way towards the chain-link fence at the back of the construction site. He saw Nick’s retreating back move in between two buildings on the other side of it and sped up. He wouldn’t lose sight of him.

He saw Lucifer speed up as well, getting ready to scale the fence. Andy only had time to think the devil was incredibly short and the fence was at least six feet tall, only for Lucifer to leap up easily as a fucking cat, swing himself over the top of it and down on the other side like it was nothing. Andy decided not to think about it as he climbed the fence (with a bit more of a struggle) and got over it. He landed hard, feeling pain shoot up his shins. He ignored the pain and kept going, hurrying after Lucifer and the retreating suspect.

The two of them ran through the alley and into the next street and down the sidewalk. It was getting closer to rush hour, and Andy started cursing as he saw Nick start to blend in with the amount of people walking down the streets. It didn’t help that Lucifer was, as mentioned, incredibly short, and most of the people made him vanish in and out of sight. Andy kept going, focusing instead on Nick who was pushing people out of the way. That was probably the only good thing about it. It didn’t just slow Andy down, it slowed Nick down, too.

Andy saw Lucifer jump over a lady Nick had pushed, apologising as he went. Andy had to push down the urge to go and help her back up, seeing people move to help her. It blocked Andy’s path, however. He cast a glance over at the street and saw that it was pretty packed with cars, but there should be enough space for him.

He changed course and stepped into the street. He sprinted down the side of the lane and saw Lucifer and Nick run into the next street. Andy gritted his teeth and felt slightly impressed by the speed the devil moved with.

He ran over the street, waving a hand at the drivers that had to slam on the breaks to avoid hitting him. They honked their horns at him, but Andy had other things to worry about. They were getting closer to one of the main roads, and Andy knew it wouldn’t be good to run headfirst into traffic, there. He tried to speed up and catch up to Lucifer. He tried to yell at him to stop, but the devil didn’t listen.

No. No, instead, while their target took advantage of a crosswalk slightly farther down the street which had a blinking green man, Lucifer apparently decided it would be best to get to the other side before Nick.

Andy skidded to a stop just in time to stop himself from getting run over. It gave him a great view of Lucifer running into the heavy traffic. The devil grinned as he leaped over the hood of a car, before he landed safely on the other side and kept going. Andy could hear him let out another joyous laugh as he slipped past a trailer and dodged another car.

Andy clenched his jaw and went after him, taking advantage of the cars stopping for the devil as he crossed the street. He could more or less see Nick having gotten across and was heading towards one of the shopping streets.

His foot caught on a piece of rubble. He could hear car tires screech.

Ah, so he was going to die because he decided to chase after the devil, he thought. He squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating the impact. He expected to feel his bones get crushed. He expected pain.

Instead, a cold sensation washed over him.

One second, he had been falling, the next he was flung upwards.

His eyes shot open at the sudden change of direction. He stumbled as his feet hit the ground. His knees buckled and he caught himself on the pavement, feeling his palms get scratched on the rough surface. He hissed and tried to get over the disorientation he felt as he got back up and kept running.

He was right behind Lucifer.

In the shopping street Nick had been gunning for.

What the fuck?

A shadow shot past them. Andy almost thought he’d imagined it, but then he saw Lucifer grin down at it as it rushed after Nick.

“You okay?” the devil asked, glancing over his shoulder at Andy. Andy couldn’t answer, because he pretty much thought he was dead. “I feel you,” Lucifer continued with a snicker, like he understood exactly what Andy was going through. Lucifer moved past a couple of older ladies. They screamed, and Andy apologised to them as he hurried after him. “He’s done it to me so many times, you have no idea.”

Andy panted as they sprinted past different stands and tables. A few signs stood in the way, and where Lucifer jumped over them like a damned hurdler, Andy ran around them, feeling Lucifer once again start to get away from him.

Also, who the fuck tried to have a casual, fucking conversation while in the middle of a chase?!

“He went in there!” Lucifer exclaimed and changed course into one of the shops, shoving past a lady who dropped her shopping bags in surprise. Andy could hear the people inside shout at Nick, and then Lucifer as he barrelled after the fleeing man. “Sorry!” Lucifer yelled as he ran straight into an older man. “Excuse me!” he excused himself as he crashed right into a young girl. “Coming through!”

Andy let out a string of apologies himself as he rushed into the cramped store filled with different items and groceries. The girl was sobbing. Andy ran straight past her and into the storage area in the back of the store.

Andy huffed as he saw Nick get through a backdoor and slam it shut behind him. He was about to slow down when Lucifer crashed straight through said door, making it fly off of its hinges. Andy gaped at it where it landed a good distance into the street, before his eyes locked onto where the devil had gained considerably on the suspect.

They continued down the street. Then the next one, and then another. The amount of people and traffic still made it difficult for them to properly gain on Nick, especially since he tended to blend in with the rest of them.

He made his way back onto the edge of the street. Lucifer noticed him do it and followed his example as they ran after each other. They slipped into another, narrow pathway and down the sidewalk on the other side. The street was less busy, there, but without the people, Nick had started throwing as much shit as he could at them. He pushed a table filled with oranges onto its side before he continued to run. It made Lucifer laugh. Andy wasn’t as amused, given the sudden worry he had of falling right on his face.

He felt Lucifer grab onto his wrist, and while Andy would’ve most definitely tripped on one of the oranges, the devil steadied him over them, before he also pulled him with him over the fucking table. Andy cursed as his leg caught on the edge of it, expecting to fall.

Lucifer didn’t let him. Instead, he kept Andy on his feet—and moving, while Andy got his feet sorted and working again.

“You good?” Lucifer asked him.

“Yup,” Andy bit out, feeling Lucifer let go of him, again.

Street after street they went like that, until they got to a place where they had to cross another one. This time, the two of them went for the crosswalk, just like Nick was doing. The man wasn’t that far ahead of them, anymore, which encouraged Lucifer and Andy to speed up.

Andy was panting heavily as they turned a corner and saw Nick rush into another, narrow pathway between two buildings. He was getting extremely tired. He couldn’t keep going for much longer. He knew that.

They heard a scream from the passage. Lucifer grinned and surprisingly started to slow down. Andy gave him a confused look as he ran past him into the narrow space. He stumbled to a halt, catching himself on the brick wall as he saw Alastor stand there, hand around Nick’s throat as he kept the man pressed up against the wall. Nick gasped and squirmed, eyes wide as he tried his best to get Alastor’s hand away from his throat.

Andy continued to try and catch his breath as Lucifer stepped past him and over to his husband, who grinned down at him.

“We were about to catch him,” Lucifer said, not out of breath at all.

“I’m sure you were,” Alastor replied dryly. Nick punched at his arm. Andy could see the force behind it. Had it been a human holding his arm, it would’ve been close to breaking. Alastor didn’t even flinch. Instead, he tightened his hold on Nick’s throat, making the man choke. “Are we arresting him, detective?” he asked Andy.

“Give me a moment,” Andy wheezed as he got his phone out of his pocket. He huffed and leaned his back against the wall and found Hensley’s contact, before he tried to call him. He waited until he heard Hensley answer. “We got him,” Andy told his colleague, watching as Nick’s skin started turning a little blue. “You might want to let up a bit on the pressure, there, Al,” he told the demon, who looked at their suspect and released him, making Nick suck in a sharp breath. He continued to gasp and cough while Alastor grabbed him, again. This time, though, he just held his arm to keep him from moving. Nick kept gasping.

“Al’s there?” Hensley asked. “The fucker up and vanished on me.”

“Yeah, he’s here. He cut him off,” Andy explained before he told Hensley where they were. The detective told him to handcuff Nick and wait for him to get there, before he hung up. Andy sighed, finally feeling like he could breathe properly. “Fucking hell, Mr. Walley,” he said and put his phone away, before he stepped over to them. “Why did you run?”

“I want a lawyer,” Nick spat out through his breaths.

“Mr. Walley,” Andy said exasperatedly and got his handcuffs out of his belt. “Come on. We have some time to kill before my colleague gets here with the cruiser. Why did you run?”

“Shouldn’t you be reading me my rights? Nick rasped as Andy grabbed his arm and got the handcuffs on him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Andy grumbled. “You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you,” he drawled. “Now sit down.”

Nick glared at him, but seemed to realise he’d much rather sit down than stand for however long it took Hensley to get there. He sat down without too much of a fuzz, and Andy took the moment to calm himself down. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Alastor, who stood with his hands behind his back like he usually did.  

“Was it you?” he asked, feeling a chill go down his spine as he thought back to the moment he thought he was going to die.

“I couldn’t let you get killed. You haven’t realised who it is, yet,” he said, and Andy stared at him. Did he know, now? Had Alastor figured it out? Had Lucifer told him anything?

“Well, thank you,” Andy muttered. “I guess.”

“My pleasure,” Alastor said before he turned to Nick. “How’s the throat?”

“Fuck you,” Nick snarled.

Alastor snorted. “Well, you’re the one who tried to run,” he said.

“What now?” Lucifer asked, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at Nick.

“We’ll bring him in to the station, and then I’ll check through some records, and we’ll probably talk to him tomorrow when we get him an attorney,” Andy replied, checking his watch. It wasn’t that late, but he needed a break. He’d barely slept two nights in a row, and while he didn’t feel particularly sleepy, his head was killing him.

“So, you won’t need us there for that, right?” Lucifer asked, putting his hands in his pockets. Andy frowned at him. “We have a dinner reservation in an hour,” he informed him. “If you need us, we’ll join you, though, of course.”

“Oh,” Andy muttered. “I don’t think I need any help until tomorrow, to be honest.” He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. His heart still felt like it was racing. “You’re free to go.”

“I am?” Nick asked from where he sat.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Andy scoffed and turned back to the two husbands. The devil and the serial killer. An odd couple who had made a fucking dinner reservation in the middle of helping him with a case. “I’m guessing you’ll get back to your house by yourself, tonight, then?”

“Yep,” Lucifer said. “We’ll meet you tomorrow at the station, though.” He looked like he suddenly remembered something and pulled his phone out. A moment later, he handed it over to Andy. Andy stared at it. It looked like a completely normal phone. “If anything happens, feel free to call me, actually,” he said.

“What?” Andy croaked.

“Give me your number,” Lucifer clarified, even if it was obvious from the blinking indicator on the screen and the open keyboard.

“R-right,” Andy stuttered and took the device. He stared at the little icon of a duck looking remarkably like himself as well as the name “Ducktecktive Greene,” under it. It even had a small magnifying glass at the end of it. He stared at it for a moment longer, before he hesitantly typed in his number and gave the phone back to Lucifer.

“Thanks,” Lucifer said and saved it, before he typed something. Andy felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and fished it out. He blinked at the lack of a number. It had been exchanged for a small devil emoji. “Hope you don’t have more devils in your contacts,” the devil said.

“I don’t,” Andy muttered. He hoped he hadn’t just done something incredibly stupid. Who in their right minds gave their phone number to the fucking devil?

“Oh, great!” Lucifer grinned and put his phone away. He glanced down at Nick for a moment, before he looked back at Andy. “Want us to stay here until Detective Hensley shows up?”

As if summoned, the police cruiser slowed to a stop outside of the pathway. The three of them turned to look at the detective as he got out of the car and moved into the passage.

“I think we can handle it,” Andy said and grabbed onto Nick’s arm to help him back up on his feet. The man was still breathing harshly, but now it sounded more like he was about to have a panic attack more than just struggling with having been choked. “You go enjoy your dinner.”

“Superb,” Lucifer said. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah,” Andy muttered as Hensley reached them. Lucifer grabbed Alastor’s arm, again, and the two demons made their way out of the pathway. Hensley stared after them, before he met Andy’s gaze. Andy looked at Nick and started moving him towards the cruiser.

“They’re just gonna leave?” Hensley asked incredulously.  

“They have a dinner reservation,” Andy told him, as if that would make it less strange that the two of them helped chase down a suspect, left Hensley behind, joined them while they talked to Frank’s mother, joined Andy to the coroner’s office, and so much more. There was no quick brief or talk or anything. They just left, and Andy was almost relieved about it. “They’ll join the interrogation tomorrow,” he said.

Hensley didn’t say anything as he opened the door to the cruiser and let Nick get inside. He helped the man with his seatbelt and got back out of the car, before he shut the door behind him.

“I need a drink,” Andy said.

“Winston said the same thing,” Hensley muttered. “Text Pierce and ask him if he joins a pub after his shift,” he told Andy, who felt this weird mix of relief, as well as dread. He should do literally anything other than go for a drink with his colleagues, but he really needed a break from everything.

“Will do.”

With that, the two of them got back into the car and headed back to the precinct. 

(^Old pic from long before I finished Beneath the Red Moon XD)

(New pic from two days ago XD)

Chapter Text

Andy stared at the little devil emoji on his phone and the message below it telling him that the two demons were on their way to the precinct. After the previous night’s pub visit, he had a slight headache, and just knowing he had told them to join them on the fucking interrogation made it feel a lot worse. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that the two of them did whatever the hell they wanted, when they wanted it, which meant the interrogation could go either really well, or absolutely horribly. He hoped for the first, but decided the latter was more likely.

“You’ve been staring at your screen for the past five minutes, man,” Pierce said as he stopped in front of Andy’s desk. Andy barely glanced at him before he turned his focus back on the phone and the half-written reply. He’d been close to telling Lucifer to just not come to the precinct and that they could instead go check out the guy they thought they’d heard during their honeymoon. “Here.”

“What?” Andy asked, seeing a coffee mug be placed down in front of him. Pierce huffed and leaned his hip against the desk.

“Because you look like you need it.”

Andy rolled his eyes, but grabbed the mug and took a sip of the hot liquid. “Thanks,” he muttered and leaned back in his chair. He locked his phone and glanced up at Pierce. “You joining the interrogation today?”

Pierce shrugged. “It’s going to be cramped in the observation room, but I’d like to see it,” he said. “Hensley is doing the talking, right?”

“I am,” Andy corrected him, which seemed to surprise his friend. “What? Hensley said I could take the lead on it since I know more about the case.”

“Right,” Pierce said with a smirk. “Because of your new friends?”

“I don’t think I’d call them friends, exactly,” Andy replied with a scoff. “But they’ve been pretty useful for now. I know a lot more about the killer from the thirties, at least.” He let his gaze trail over to the entrance of the bullpen, checking that the two demons weren’t sneaking up on him or something. He still felt his heart speed up when he thought about the day before when he’d almost been run over by a car, only for the former serial killer to save his life. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it too closely. “The question is how much of that the copycat knows, and how much he doesn’t.”

“Do you have any theories, yet?” Pierce asked, moving so he was sitting on the desk instead of leaning against it.

Andy sighed and glanced around. Most of the detectives were out. Winston and Hensley were by their desks and Lieutenant Carter stood by the coffee machine in the corner of the room. He knew Captain Dupont was in her office, too. She’d mentioned she wanted to check out the interrogation, too. It was the first suspect they had for the copycat, but Andy couldn’t help but think Nick was a red herring. He could definitely have killed Frank, but that didn’t make Andy feel like he was the killer of the rest of them. From the background check he’d done, he couldn’t find anything that made it seem like Nick had any connection to the precinct, or anyone working in the police at all.

Andy leaned a little closer to Pierce, who leaned in to hear what he had to whisper. “I think we have at least one mole,” he told him.

“What?” Pierce hissed, glancing around the room.

“Shush,” Andy hissed back, making his friend focus back on him.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Pierce grumbled. “Who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Andy said quietly. “We’re missing information about the new cases, and information about the killer from the thirties. I keep feeling like I’ve seen some relevant information and then when I check again, it’s gone.” Pierce stared at him like he’d gone mad. Andy stared back, feeling like his friend wasn’t listening to him.

“Are you still drunk?”

Andy frowned. “What?”

Pierce scoffed, reached over and tapped Andy’s forehead. “Drunk,” he repeated. “Or have you just lost it completely over this shit? Evidence doesn’t go fucking missing in a police station without someone knowing about it.”

“I fucking know about it,” Andy snapped. “And whoever is stealing it,” he added.

“And the fucking records,” Pierce huffed. “No one goes in or out of the evidence room without it being logged.” Andy pursed his lips. He’d known about it, but something stopped him from checking the logs. “Go talk to Barnes.”

“I’m not talking to Barnes,” Andy said, feeling his shoulders raise just thinking about her. “What if it is Barnes?” he argued. “Or what if she’s in on it, at least,” he added.

“You really think she’s behind the missing evidence?” Pierce deadpanned. Andy grimaced. The officer rolled his eyes and slid off the desk. “Come on,” he said and grabbed him by the arm, forcing Andy up on his feet. “We’re talking to Barnes.”

“I’m not done with the coffee you gave me,” Andy said.

“Good thing that doesn’t affect your ability to walk,” Pierce snarked, more or less hooking his arm around Andy’s just to keep him from running away. Not that Andy would run away, but he was definitely not walking quickly over to the property room officer. “She’s just a little strict. You’ll be fine.”

“She’s going to skin me alive if I tell her someone’s been stealing evidence,” Andy pointed out, glancing around at the other people in the room. Winston gave them a look as they passed by his desk and over to the more secluded offices.

“She’s going to be happy you told her about it,” Pierce said and stopped in front of the door to the property room officer. He knocked on the door and waited until he heard someone tell them to come in, before he opened the door. “Good morning, Chloe,” Pierce said kindly to the middle-aged woman sitting behind her computer screens. She barely even looked at them as they entered. “How’re you today?”

“What do you want, Officer Pierce?” Officer Barnes asked.

“Well, Andy, here, wants to look at the logs for the evidence room,” he told her while Andy tried his best to make him shut up. Andy glared at him. Officer Barnes raised her eyebrow. “There might be some trouble with some missing evidence,” he continued.

Andy could kill him.

Officer Barnes stared at him. “What.”

Now, there was a reason Andy disliked Chloe Barnes. First of all, she scared the shit out of him. He’d never met a more frightening woman in his life, and he’d met quite a few of them. It was completely irrational. Of course, if you didn’t count the fact that during his first few months as a detective trainee, he’d accidentally managed to spill coffee on some evidence. He’d been sure she was going to pull her gun on him and put an end to his clumsiness. She hadn’t. Instead, she’d restricted his access to the evidence room for five months, which had been a serious pain in the ass for not only himself, but everyone else who had to sit with him while he went through evidence for different cases.

Everyone respected Chloe Barnes. If she told you to babysit a fellow officer, then you would babysit a fellow officer. Her word was law when it came to evidence.

Andy had realised long ago that the rest of the detectives and officers in their precinct had decided that Andy was usually the only that needed babysitting, and while that thought was in some ways quite embarrassing, he also knew he wasn’t the only one that had ended up with a babysitter.

He was, however, the only one who had never been a babysitter for the others, which also spoke volumes.

Anyway, the second reason he disliked Chloe Barnes was that she just had this slightly arrogant air about her. She clearly felt important as the property room officer, and while she was incredibly good at her job, she also never let anyone hear the end of it. Access, protocols, everything that she felt was important, she would never let you forget about. One mistake was all it took before she kept an eye on you for the foreseeable future. She would probably still keep an eye on you even after she retired. Or after she died. Andy had a theory that she would end up haunting the precinct after she kicked the bucket, mind forever stuck in the evidence room.

That also meant that if someone was stealing evidence from right under her nose, she would not be happy about it. No one would be happy about it, but Officer Barnes would be especially mad about it.

“I don’t know for sure,” Andy told her. Her dark eyes shifted over to him. They buried themselves into his soul. “I just feel like the copycat case has less documents now than before, and I wanted to check if someone’s been accessing it more than usual, or if someone who’s not supposed to have access to it has taken it out.”

Officer Barnes continued to stare at him for a moment longer before her eyes snapped back down to the screen in front of her. Her fingers danced over the keyboard before she looked back up at him, then at the monitor, then at the coffee cup in Andy’s hand, whom he decided to take a nervous sip from.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Officer Barnes told him after a moment. “The only one accessing it more than the rest is you.” She scanned the screen, gaze stopping by something that she must’ve found interesting, before they jumped to another part of the screen. “Officer Pierce,” she said.

“I haven’t accessed it,” Pierce said.

“When did Detective Hensley take over the case for Detective Scott?”

Pierce frowned. “He’s been a bit on and off since the beginning, to be honest.” He glanced at Andy. “It wasn’t until recently he officially took it, though.”

“Do any of you know if Detective Scott has been around while she was on sick leave?”

“I think I saw her a few times,” Andy muttered thoughtfully. He knew he’d seen her. He’d even asked her about it, but she’d just told him she needed a break from her own situation with her sick mother, and wanted to substitute the misery by checking out something that wasn’t that much better, but it could distract her, at least. She’d mentioned having some ideas and wanting to check them while she still remembered them. He hadn’t questioned it.

“Well, that’s the only thing out of place that I can see, at least,” Officer Barnes muttered.

“Can I see?” Andy asked, feeling like he needed to check it for himself.

“I’ll take the mug,” Pierce muttered and picked the coffee mug out of Andy’s hand.

Officer Barnes stared at him for a moment longer, before she rolled her chair slightly to the side and nodded for Andy to come closer. He hurried over and looked over her shoulder while she scrolled down the list of logged entries to the evidence room and to the locker they kept the copycat evidence in. She was right. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

He straightened his back and met Pierce’s eyes. Pierce seemed to understand what he meant and got a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Thank you, Chloe,” Andy said and hurried away from her. He grabbed the mug out of Pierce’s hand and brushed past him. Pierce followed him out after waving to the property room officer and closed her door. Andy felt his hand tremble slightly and tightened his hold on the mug. “One of them,” he muttered.

“One of them,” Pierce agreed.

“At least one of them,” Andy corrected and looked out over the bullpen. Everyone sat where they’d been before. No one had moved. No one looked up at them. None of them felt suspicious. “Or none of them,” Andy said and checked his watch. The interrogation was scheduled for 10am. They had fifteen minutes until then. “I don’t know for sure if there’s anything missing.”

“Maybe you should check?” Pierce asked. “There has to be something you remember reading that isn’t there anymore?”

Andy bit his lip. “Well, there’s the gravesite,” he said, making Pierce frown. “Where the Bayou Killer was buried.”

“It’s not there?”

“No.” Andy shook his head. “I read through it all yesterday and there wasn’t anything about it. I know I remember reading the location of it just last year, and then I remember being confused when it suddenly wasn’t there anymore. There was a full report on it. I even remember a news article clipping about it.”

“Well, do you remember where it is?” Pierce asked.

“I think I do?” Andy furrowed his brow in thought. He knew he’d read about it. He knew more or less where it should be, but he’d never taken a look.

“Why don’t you take a trip and check it out, then?” Pierce suggested, making Andy glance at him. “If you never read about it, you shouldn’t be able to know where it is, right? If you find it, then someone’s taken that report.”

“Why the fuck would the killer need the guy’s gravesite?” Andy scoffed.

“Could be a fanatic,” Pierce muttered and put his hands in his pockets. “It seems like the guy has some sort of obsession with the Bayou Killer. Why else would he copy him?”

“Why would he copy him so badly?” Andy retorted. “It doesn’t add up. The guy is good at cutting people up. We know that. We’ve seen it. But then there’s the inconsistencies.”

Pierce sighed and looked down at the floor, before he looked at the bullpen, and then the entrance where two familiar demons came strolling into the precinct. Andy had to supress a groan.

“What if he’s forgetting himself?” Pierce asked. “Like, he starts out cutting them nicely, but then he gets lost in it, and his cuts get rougher?”

“I thought that, too, but the difference between them is so big that it looks like two people did it,” Andy replied. He watched Lucifer spot him and nodded for Alastor to follow him. Andy almost wanted them to wait by his desk, instead, but he had a feeling the two demons would just step right on over to him, anyway.

“What if it’s the opposite?” Pierce asked quietly. Andy raised an eyebrow. “What if he does get lost in it, but it’s the other way around? Rough first, clean after—”  

“—to hide how good he is at cutting,” Andy whispered in realisation. “Fuck. That’s also a possibility for sure.”

“I don’t know if that helps, though. It could still be just about anyone,” Pierce murmured as the demons made their way over to them. “Someone just remotely good in the kitchen could be behind it.”

“But why hide it, then?” Andy questioned.

“We’re ready for the interrogation,” Lucifer said as they came to a stop in front of them. Pierce tensed up at the sight of them. Andy knew he wasn’t a big fan of the two demons, which he understood, given how they kept messing with his head whenever they met. It had happened quite a few times, already, and Pierce seemed to know it on a subconscious level. “What’re you guys whispering about,” he whispered.

Pierce gave them a look, before his eyes flickered to Alastor, who gave the two of them a grin. His teeth looked a little sharper than usual. Andy could see the suspicion roll off of his friend in waves where he took in the smug smile.

“Nothing in particular,” Pierce said and checked his watch. “I’ll go talk to Hensley about the suspect.” He gave Andy a warning look, like he meant he shouldn’t tell the two demons about what they’d figured out, before he made his way over to where Hensley was going through the case file for the murder of Frank North.

“What were you whispering about?” Lucifer repeated in a conspiratorially whisper.

“Some new shit,” Andy whispered back, not really knowing why.

“Oh, interesting,” Lucifer said, continuing the low volume making Alastor roll his eyes and glance around. “What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Andy waved him off.

Lucifer grinned at him and nodded, before he turned to Alastor. “He’s going to tell us about it later,” he said louder, but still not loud enough for Pierce and the rest to hear him.

“I heard him,” Alastor said dryly. “Is there anything you want us to do while we listen in on the interrogation? Is there any etiquette for joining you in the observation room?”

“Just stand there and be quiet, and you should be fine,” Andy said as he saw Hensley get up from his desk as a woman came walking into the bullpen with a black suitcase. She shook hands with the detective, before she, Hensley and Pierce started moving towards the interrogation rooms. Andy saw Winston get up from his desk, as well as Lieutenant Carter, who all proceeded to follow the other three. “Seems like we’re getting ready,” he mumbled as the captain came out of her office.

“Greene,” she greeted gruffly as she closed and locked her office door. “And strange men I haven’t met before,” she added.

“Captain,” Andy greeted back. She just huffed and moved past them. Andy watched her until she turned the corner. He turned back to the demons. “Really, just stay out of the way and don’t make a sound. Come on,” he said and started moving after the captain. They made their way over to the next corridor. Andy stopped when he saw Nick get brought into the room by Pierce. He met Carter’s eyes, and the lieutenant smiled and approached them.

“I’ll be doing the interrogation with Hensley,” he said, making Andy frown.

“Why?” he asked. “I’m the one who knows the most about this case.”

“This is too important,” Carter told him.

“I’ve done interrogations before,” Andy argued. “It’s not like I’m going to fuck it up, now.”

The lieutenant sighed and looked over his shoulder at where the others were filing into the observation room, except Hensley who was looking at the case file in his hand. He looked up and met Andy’s gaze before he smiled apologetically.

“If it’s not the copycat, then you’re not on the case. You’re a trainee, not a proper detective, yet,” Carter told him.

“It’s directly associated with the copycat,” Andy continued to argue. He lowered his voice into a hiss. “The wounds—”

“—Were done after the guy was killed and by someone else,” Carter interrupted him. “You’ll get other chances, Andy, but Hensley and I will take care of this one.”

Andy glanced at where Hensley looked back down at the folder in his hands. “Was this Hensley’s idea?”

“No,” Carter said. “He tried to convince me to let you do it. This was Captain Dupont’s idea,” he informed him. If it was the captain, then there was no hope for Andy. He would just have to wait and watch with the rest of them. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Andy grumbled, knowing it showed that he didn’t mean it in the slightest. He glanced at Lucifer and Alastor and nodded for them to follow him, before he made his way past Carter, gave Hensley a disappointed look, and made his way into the observation room. He held the door open for Alastor and Lucifer, who shuffled in after him. Winston looked up from his seat by the microphone. The monitors were the only light, and Andy could see the cameras were already locked onto the suspect. Pierce sat beside Winston with the control panel for the audio recording. The captain stood behind them.

“Aw, fuck,” Winston mumbled as he spotted Andy’s entourage.

“Nice to see you too, Detective Brooks,” Lucifer whispered as they moved past the three of them to the far wall. Andy leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest, looking over to the mirror where he saw the attorney and Nick talk to each other. “What are they saying?” Lucifer asked. Andy almost thought he was talking to him, but Alastor answered.

“Nothing special. She’s just her reminding him about what to answer and what not to,” he informed his husband quietly.

“You can hear them?” Andy asked. Alastor didn’t answer, but the smirk told him everything he needed to know. “Damn.”

Hensley and Carter made their way into the room, and the attorney and Nick turned to look at them. Their voices started to filter in through the speakers. Andy sighed as he watched them talk to each other and to the suspect, before they sat down around the table in the middle of the interrogation room. Andy couldn’t help but feel like he was the one who should be in there, but with the captain there, he couldn’t. Not if she’d told him not to.

The interrogation started, and as expected, Nick said just about nothing. The only thing he did say was that he’d run because he’d thought they were there to arrest him for some weed he had at his house. Nothing he said felt right, and from the steadily widening smirk on Lucifer’s face, he thought the same. It wasn’t until they started to talk about Frank that Nick looked like he was getting more nervous. He shuffled in his sea, didn’t meet the detectives’ eyes and stopped talking. The attorney kept reminding him about not saying anything for quite a few questions until the detective and the lieutenant decided that they could use a break.

The captain left the room to go talk to the two of them, while the attorney and Nick stayed in the interrogation room. Andy almost wanted to leave, feeling like it wasn’t much point to stand there and do nothing.

Winston glanced at Pierce, who was scrolling on his phone, before he got to his feet and made his way over to the three of them. Lucifer grinned at him. There was an edge to it, and Andy wondered what he was thinking.

“This is going nowhere,” Winston said.

“We noticed,” Andy replied dryly.

Winston pursed his lips, glanced at Lucifer, before he looked over his shoulder at Pierce, who Andy knew was listening in on them, before he met Andy’s eyes. They then flickered over to Lucifer, again, as if trying to tell him something. When Andy frowned, Winston once again looked at Lucifer.

“Can you just say what the fuck you’re thinking, Wince?” Andy hissed quietly. “What do you want him to do?”

“It’s Lucifer,” he whispered. Lucifer glanced at Alastor like he was getting more and more amused. Winston kept his eyes on Andy. “Lucifer,” he repeated, as if that would help. Andy knew the devil could do quite a lot, and would most likely love to help getting a confession out of the suspect, but Andy didn’t want to use him for that. Winston looked at the Lucifer. “Why don’t you ask him about his desire or something?”

Lucifer blinked at him. “His what?”

“What he desires the most,” Winston said. “Like you do.”

“Winston,” Andy uttered incredulously, seeing the two demons’ confused expressions. “Get your fucking head out of Hollywood.”

“What?” Lucifer asked. “I mean, I could absolutely ask him what he desires or whatever, but like, why?”

“It’s a TV series,” Andy scoffed. “The devil coming to LA or some shit. I don’t know. It was popular when it first came out, like, twenty years ago.”

“Seventeen,” Winston corrected him. “And the last season was just twelve years ago, so.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Andy hissed. “This isn’t a fucking TV series. This is fucking reality. I can’t just send the devil into the room and tell him to get a confession. That makes no—”

Lucifer chuckled, cutting Andy off. “I might not care much for people’s desires, but I do have a few tricks up my sleeves. I’m usually more into temptation and seduction, though.” Andy, Winston and Alastor stared at him. Lucifer’s grin turned a little more tense. “What?”

“I would actually like to see you try and seduce him,” Alastor said, much to Andy and Winston’s surprise.

“You’re married,” Andy stated, feeling that was a pretty big deal, but apparently not.

“And your point being?” Alastor asked, before the three of them looked at Lucifer, who suddenly seemed a lot less confident. “Why don’t you go and seduce him, darling?”

“Right now?” Lucifer asked.

“Right now,” Alastor said, before a sly grin spread across his cheeks. “Unless you do have performance anxiety.”

Lucifer gaped at him. “How many fucking times to tell you that I don’t?”

“Hmm, memory seems to convince me you do.” The two demons stared at each other for a moment longer, before Lucifer grumbled something under his breath. “Why don’t you try and seduce me first, if you’re worried?”

Lucifer scoffed. “You?” Andy had no idea what was going on, but he knew he’d much rather not have to watch whatever strange seduction attempt the devil was going to do. He glanced at Winston, who looked surprisingly invested.

Alastor tilted his head. “I’m your husband, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but… you?” Lucifer said.

“Now I want to see it, too,” Winston said, making Andy sigh and rub a hand over his face in irritation. He could see Pierce send them a couple of glances and felt like this was probably the worst thing they could be doing.

“I’m not going to fucking seduce him,” Lucifer snapped, which Andy found slightly surprising. He glanced at Alastor, who looked like he’d expected it.

“But it’s your husband,” Winston said.

“I know he’s my husband,” Lucifer hissed.

“I’m feeling very seduced, right now,” Alastor drawled, making Lucifer glare at him and point a finger at him, as if daring him to continue.

“Why don’t you use the heaven line?” Winston suggested, making the three of them stare at him. “What?”

“That’s just insensitive,” Lucifer muttered. “And for the record, it did hurt.”

“I can attest to that,” Alastor said quietly, which Andy felt was even more confusing than this entire conversation. How would a sinner know what falling felt like? He wanted to ask, but Alastor’s expression changed slightly, as if he got an idea. He leaned down until he could whisper into Lucifer’s ear. “You know what I would enjoy, Lucifer?” He asked quietly, making Lucifer’s eyes widen. The amount of fear in the devil’s eyes would’ve been comical if it wasn’t for the fact that none of them knew why Lucifer would be so afraid of his husband clearly trying to get under his skin. Probably literally, Andy’s mind added. “I’d love to watch you squirm. I’d love to see you covered in gold from all the bites I’d leave on your skin.” Jesus, Andy thought, seeing the pinched look on Lucifer’s face, as well as his cheeks getting darker. It was barely noticeable in the dark, but it was there. “I want to mark you. I want to claim you in any way, shape and form,” Alastor continued. “You’re mine, and I’ll never let you forget it. Got it?”

Lucifer closed his eyes, opened his eyes, stared dead-ahead for a moment, before he blinked, brought a hand up and slowly pushed Alastor away from his personal space with his index finger against his husband’s nose. Alastor giggled meanly.

“You’ll pay for that one,” Lucifer grumbled, making Alastor snicker louder. “Just you fucking wait. The moment I figure out how, you’re going to regret it.”

“I’ll be waiting in anticipation,” Alastor told him.

“So,” Winston muttered, dragging out the word and making it obvious that he probably thought Alastor was the better seducer out of the two of them. “The interrogation?”

“I’ll help,” Lucifer said and pushed past them. “Come on, Detective Greene. Let’s get this shit over and done with,” he muttered, leaving a snorting demon and a confused detective constable behind. Andy hurried after him, past Pierce who looked like he was even more bewildered than the rest of them, and out of the observation room where Lucifer stopped in front of the captain, Carter and Hensley. They all glanced at him curiously. “I’d like to try and talk to him,” Lucifer stated, making them frown. “I’ll bring Detective Greene with me. We’ll get him to open up.”

“Go ahead,” the captain said and motioned for the door to the interrogation room.

Lucifer nodded, glanced at Andy and moved over to the door. Hensley handed Andy his folder, before Andy followed Lucifer into the interrogation room. The attorney and Nick jumped and looked up at them. The attorney looked mildly irritated by the sudden intrusion.

“We’ll be taking over the interrogation,” Lucifer said and held his hand out for the attorney. She took it hesitantly. “Lucifer Morn,” he introduced himself. “We’re the ones who chased down your client yesterday.”

“What?” the attorney asked, like she wasn’t entirely sure what to think.

“Well, he ran away and brought us on a nice, little jog around New Orleans,” Lucifer continued, still shaking the woman’s hand. “Isn’t that right, Nick?”

“Y-yeah?” Nick replied, sounding like he had no idea why he said it. Andy knew this was probably going to be a lot easier than he first thought it would be.

“What was your name, again?” Lucifer asked the attorney.

“Stella Thorn?” the attorney said, sounding like she wasn’t too sure about that, either.

“Well, then, Ms Thorn,” Lucifer huffed and let go of her hand. He picked the folder out of Andy’s hand. “Why don’t your client tell us something that we’d very much like to know.” He grabbed one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Andy, Nick and Ms Thorn shared a few looks before Andy, too, sat down. Lucifer flipped the folder open and looked at the documents. Andy frowned when he saw a few pictures he was sure hadn’t been in there earlier that morning. “I hope you’re not squeamish, Mr. Walley.”

Andy watched as Lucifer placed the folder down on the table, got one of the pictures out and moved it over to Nick. The man’s eyes widened at the sight of the wound.

“Can you tell me what that is?” Lucifer asked.

“You can’t just—”

“I was asking Mr. Walley,” Lucifer interrupted the attorney. She shut up and stared at him, before she glanced down at the image of the familiar cuts. Her face contorted in disgust. “What are those, Mr. Walley? Can you tell me that?”

“They look like someone cut up somebody,” Nick said hesitantly.

“That’s Fred,” Lucifer said.

“Frank,” Andy corrected him.

“That’s Frank,” Lucifer said and placed another picture on the table. The one of Frank’s throat. “This is also Frank,” he informed the suspect, who looked more and more stressed the more he looked at the pictures. “You know he’s dead, don’t you, Nick?”

“I—” Nick cut himself off and reached out a shaky hand toward the picture of the cut throat.

“You know he’s dead,” Lucifer stated. “But you didn’t do that, did you?” He gestured to the pictures on the table.

“I would never—”

“What about this?” Lucifer asked, placing a picture of the stab wounds on the table in front of Nick. Nick fell silent as he looked at it. “Who do you think did that?”

Nick continued to stare at the picture. He swallowed thickly. Lucifer said nothing. Andy waited patiently. The attorney kept her mouth shut. All of this was far away from how you were supposed to conduct an interrogation, but it clearly looked like it was about to give some results. Also, Lucifer clearly knew that Nick had killed him. His thoughts went back to the man in the elevator and how he’d said he just knew he was a murderer, yet he had no idea how or when he’d murdered someone. Andy wondered if Lucifer had decided he didn’t care about this particular murder, or if he was riding high on the frustration he’d gotten from his husband’s teasing.

Nick sucked in a sharp breath. “I did that,” he confessed quietly. Andy stared at him. The attorney stared at him. Lucifer smiled smugly. Andy could hear a thump from the observation room, most likely one of the others being either happy they got a confession, or they were mad they weren’t the one getting it. Nick frowned, pointed at the cuts and met Lucifer’s eyes. “But I didn’t do that,” he exclaimed. “I would never do that to Frankie!”

“Why not?” Lucifer asked, like it wasn’t a big deal to cut someone up like they were a piece of meat at the butcher’s shop. “I mean, you already killed him. Why not cut him up a little, too?”

Nick stared at him like Lucifer had gone completely mad. Andy shared his sentiment and would probably have stared at the devil just as surprised, but by then, he’d gotten pretty used to the unhinged things him and his husband tended to say to both himself, to others and just in general.

Nick looked back down at the pictures. He folded his hands and started picking at his thumb. A nervous tick, Andy noted. Still, the man looked like he wanted to answer, so he stayed quiet. Lucifer did, too, waiting for the man to gather some courage. The attorney looked like she wanted to tell him to shut up, but one glance at Lucifer seemed to make her change her mind.

“I loved Frankie,” Nick muttered.

“But you got jealous of him? Did you want Maddie for yourself?” Andy asked, making the guy frown.

“What? No,” Nick huffed. “I mean, I was in love with him,” he said, making Lucifer aw at him. Andy felt less moved by it. More confused, actually. “We hung out a lot during that year I was in college. I thought we had something, but then he met Maddie.” Nick let out a shuddering breath and dragged a hand through his hair. The handcuffs seemed to make it difficult, but he managed. “Maddie is a bitch,” he stated. “She fools everyone she meets. She’s always being cute and people lap it up like parched dogs,” he spat. “I tried to tell him, but he just wouldn’t listen to me. She’s a serial cheater. I know she cheated on Frank, too.” His lips wobbled as he looked back down at the pictures on the table in front of him. “Why would he want to marry her?”

Lucifer shrugged. “If she had him fooled, too, then it’s not that surprising.” He leaned his arms on the table. “So, what happened? Didn’t you lose contact after you dropped out of college?”

“No, not really,” Nick admitted, sniffing and rubbing a finger under his eye. “We were always close, even after Maddie. I always hoped he would just leave her, you know? I waited for him to understand what a piece of shit she was, but he never did.” He sighed shakily and cleared his throat, fiddling with the chain on the handcuffs. “We texted a lot. He didn’t really have time to meet much because of school, and whenever we planned to meet, he always wanted to bring Maddie.” Nick shook his head. “I usually cancelled whenever he did. Told him I didn’t want to see him if Maddie was there, too.”

“And then?” Lucifer asked.

“Then he called me and asked me if we could meet up,” Nick told him. His voice sounded strained and his fingers started to tremble. The sound of the handcuff chain scraping against the table was the only sound in the room for a while. “I thought he was going to tell me he was going to break up with her. I thought he’d finally figured out what kind of horrible human being she is.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “He asked me if I wanted to be his best man.”

“Ah, that sucks,” Lucifer muttered.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “Yeah, it sucked a lot.” He clenched his right hand into fist. “I don’t know why I did it. I came right from work, so I hadn’t changed. Still had my toolbelt.” He sniffled. His gaze was locked on the pictures. “I grabbed my utility knife…” he trailed off and shook his head, looking like he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I didn’t want to kill him. I didn’t want him to die,” he whimpered, a couple of tears rolling down his cheeks. “Why did I…?”

“What happened after?” Lucifer asked gently. “Did you leave him?”

Nick nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you remember if you saw anyone else in the area?” Andy asked. “Someone looking shady or something? Sketchy?”

“No,” Nick rasped, shaking his head. “No, it was just the two of us. We were down by the river, close to the edge of the city. It’s a pretty calm place. Not many people are out there, except some hikers, sometimes. We like to sit at the riverbed and talk whenever we have the chance.” He paused. “Had,” he corrected himself, voice breaking.  

Lucifer looked at Andy. Andy had a feeling he knew what Lucifer was thinking. If they hadn’t seen anyone, then it sounded a lot like the killer had been out there and found Frank, only for him to cut him up and push him into the river. Alastor had been right. It felt incredibly lazy for someone who was supposed to be a fan of him.

“Well, then Mr. Walley,” Andy said. “Thank you for telling us.” Nick didn’t look up as Andy collected the pictures and placed them back in the folder in front of Lucifer. “I’ll send in Lieutenant Carter and Detective Hensley in a moment. They’ll inform you of what happens next. I’ll make sure to try and lower the punishment since you’ve been so helpful.”

“What does it fucking matter?” Nick murmured. “I killed my best friend.”

“You can apologise to him when you meet him again,” Lucifer said and got up from his seat. Nick frowned and looked up at him. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Walley. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Andy sighed and got up from his own seat, grabbing the folder. “Ignore my friend, here,” he said, giving Lucifer a stern look. Lucifer looked more caught up in being called Andy’s friend. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Nick just shook his head. The attorney looked a little lost as she picked up her notes and flipped through them, as if trying to figure out what the hell she’d just done. Andy knew she was one of those who took her job very seriously, and they usually had a pretty difficult time trying to get through her defences. Lucifer felt like a damned cheat code, which was both incredibly relieving, while also making him feel more and more guilty the more Lucifer helped him out.

Andy nodded at Lucifer to follow him out of the interrogation room. He gave the mirror a glance, seeing himself. He did look exhausted. Pierce had been right about that.

He stepped out of the room and held the door open for Lucifer. Hensley and Carter came out of the observation room. They gave Lucifer a nod, patted Andy’s shoulder, took the folder and stepped inside the interrogation room, before Andy let the door close behind them.

“Thanks,” he told Lucifer.

“I hope you don’t mind that I took over a bit more than I planned,” Lucifer said. Andy huffed. “Since it wasn’t exactly connected to the rest of the copycat murders, I felt like it was a bit of a waste of time sitting there and listening to your colleagues try and get him to talk.”

“You knew he wasn’t the copycat, right?” Andy asked as they took a few steps away from the door.

“Of course,” Lucifer replied. “I know a killer when I see one, but this guy isn’t much of a killer,” he muttered, nodding at the door to the interrogation room. “Killed one person because he didn’t want him to marry someone else. It’s not a great excuse, but I mean, love can bring out the worst in someone.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Andy mumbled. He almost thought Lucifer would question it, but he didn’t. Instead, the devil gave him an understanding smile and shrugged.

The door to the observation room opened, and the captain, Alastor, Winston and Pierce stepped out. The captain gave them an approving nod before she made her way past them and back towards her office. The last three stopped for a small chat, asking a few questions about the interrogation, before Winston seemed to decide he didn’t want to hang around the two demons for much longer and slinked away back to his desk. Pierce glanced at his watch and excused himself, saying he had a few reports he wanted to finish before the day was over.

“I’m sure you have time to check out that thing you needed to check before your shift ends,” Pierce reminded Andy.

“Oh, right. Thanks,” he said, making Pierce grin at him before he moved down the corridor towards his own desk.

Lucifer gave him a curious glance. “What are you going to check?” he asked.

Andy noticed how both demons were staring expectantly at him, which gave him an idea. It could potentially get him killed, but from how mischievous the two demons tended to be, especially Lucifer, he had a feeling they would appreciate the slight revenge and probably the existential crisis they were sure to get from the plan that rapidly developed in Andy’s mind.

“I was thinking we could go check out that guy you heard in the bayou,” Andy said and started moving towards the entrance to the building, the two demons following close behind.

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” Lucifer agreed and turned to Alastor. “It’s not that far from our house, right? It’s a bit of a walk, but we should be back before dark.”

“Yes,” Alastor agreed. His eyes were locked onto Andy, which Andy knew meant Alastor was onto him. “Why don’t we have dinner at our place after? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, would you, detective?”

Andy felt a little sick. Maybe he shouldn’t do this after all?

“I’m always happy when I can avoid making dinner myself,” he said, regretting it immediately. “I’m a vegetarian, though.”

“No, you’re not,” Alastor scoffed as they got out of the precinct and made their way over to the parking lot. Andy still kept his car at the station just in case the two demons wanted him to drive them home, which actually seemed to pay off this time.

“Well, sorry for not trusting a fucking cannibal to make me dinner,” Andy shot back as he unlocked the car. Lucifer snickered and got into the back, while Alastor rolled his eyes and moved around to the other side to get into the passenger’s side. Andy took a moment to calm himself down outside the vehicle, trying to remember the route. He really hoped the detour would make Alastor more likely to go for serving him human. He decided to take the chance (since he really needed to check it, anyway), and got into the car. “I can do venison, though, if you have it.”

Alastor grinned. “I always have venison in the fridge,” he said as Andy started the car and drove out of the parking lot. “Is there anything in particular you enjoy? I’m quite the chef.”

A cannibal saying he was ‘quite the chef’ felt like another slap in the face, but Andy decided to play along. Also, technically, he hadn’t had a good, homecooked meal for a long time. It had been a long time since he’d been home with his parents, and while he sometimes ended up visiting his colleagues or friends, they usually ordered takeout. Quick and easy.

“I’ll eat whatever,” Andy said, turning the car towards the Delgado Community College, which was in the opposite direction of the demons’ house. Alastor didn’t seem to notice, too busy coming up with suggestions and ideas for their dinner. Andy saw Lucifer on his phone in the mirror, looking like he was texting someone. For now, it looked like they wouldn’t notice where they were headed. “As long as it isn’t human, or some other disgusting thing, I’m fine with it,” he said after another five different dishes had been suggested.

“Well, then I’ll try and come up with something special,” Alastor mused, eyes finally focusing on the road in front of them. There was a moment of silence, before Alastor tilted his head. “Where are we going?”

Lucifer looked up at that and glanced around. Out of the two of them, the devil seemed to be the one least familiar with the layout of New Orleans. It made sense, given Alastor having grown up in the city. Even if it had been a hundred years since then, he still seemed to recognise where he was easily enough.

“I just need to check another thing on the way,” Andy said and turned down the street towards Holt Cemetery. “Just to verify that we’re actually missing some documents from the evidence box,” he added. Alastor remained silent as he pulled up beside the cemetery. The tension in his shoulders made Andy know he’d likely realised what exactly he was doing. “Are you coming?”

“No,” Alastor said, his previous good mood vanished. He actually sounded surprisingly nervous.

“Of course, we are,” Lucifer huffed and got out of the car.

Andy hurried out after him, not feeling like sitting in the car with the Radio Demon. Andy made his way over to the gate. He could hear the car door open and Lucifer talking to his husband, before the door slammed shut. He checked over his shoulder and saw the two demons walk after him. Alastor looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, which made Andy feel a little bad for the guy. Still, he actually did need to check this place, even if Alastor definitely didn’t want to.

He made his way through the clutter of graves. It looked pretty run-down. Overgrown gravestones and half-buried wooden planks marked the graves. Most of them looked like they were forgotten and had been worn down by the elements, but a few looked like someone still took care of them. Some had flowers and others small decorations and statues. Others looked more like sandboxes. He’d heard a lot of ghost hunters visited the graveyard, which made Andy once again wonder if ghosts existed, now that he knew demons did.

Andy followed the path over to a couple of trees at the edge of the cemetery. He could feel Alastor’s gaze burying into his back as he made his way closer to his destination. It didn’t take that long to get there. He moved off of the path and went in below the trees until he found what he was looking for.

Someone had been stealing documents.

“Oh, fuck,” Lucifer said as the two demons came up behind Andy. “No fucking way.”

They stood in front of the Bayou Killer’s grave. The grave itself looked old. Moss and plants had covered most of it, only leaving Alastor’s first name visible on the gravestone. It sat there blending in with the rest of the graves around it, except for one thing.

Flowers. A lot of them. They’d clearly been planted recently, given how the dirt looked upturned and disturbed. Andy crouched down, spotting something between the stems. He brushed the flowers aside and noticed a small, piece of meat in the shape of a die. Andy already knew who it belonged to. He could see the skin on it. If he didn’t know it was human, he’d think it was swine.

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” Alastor grumbled, and Andy once again felt the slight fear that he would end up being killed.

“I needed to verify that it was actually here,” Andy said as he got back up on his feet. “I remembered reading about your gravesite, but now I can’t find the report. It confirms that someone’s been stealing evidence.” He placed his hands on his hips and took a couple of steps backwards to inspect the grave. “The fact that someone’s been taking care of the grave only cements the fact that the copycat is the one behind it.”

“You could’ve told us,” Alastor muttered as Lucifer took a couple of steps closer to the grave.

“You could’ve told me you were the Bayou Killer, too, but you didn’t,” Andy replied dryly. The way Alastor’s eyes widened made him understand that the demon realised that this was payback for keeping it a secret from him in the first place. “Either way, I needed to check it. Now that I have, we can leave.”

“But are we sure, though?” Lucifer said, making a chill go down Andy’s spine. The devilish grin slowly stretching across his face made him once again regret bringing the two demons to the grave in the first place. “I mean, we can’t know unless we check, can we?”

“It’s clearly my grave, you idiot,” Alastor scoffed.

Lucifer hummed doubtfully, and Andy remembered that Lucifer had a bone to pick with his husband. He realised that bone might be literal now that he stood there in front of the Bayou Killer’s grave.

“Oh, no,” Andy said, feigning uncertainty. “I don’t think we can know for sure. Can we, Lucifer?”

“It’s impossible,” Lucifer agreed. “The only way would be to dig him up.”

“Too bad we don’t have a shovel,” Alastor said through gritted teeth and moved to leave. “Let’s go.”

“You mean this shovel?” Lucifer asked, clearly spawning a shovel, making Andy snort. The way Alastor stopped and turned to look at him, and looked like he was about to strangle him made it somehow funnier (Andy felt like he was actually losing his mind, at this point. He hadn’t anticipated Lucifer joining in on this shit, and he for sure hadn’t thought he’d end up playing along to the devil’s antics). The vicious grin Lucifer’s face contorted into said it all as he jabbed the shovel into the dirt. “I always come prepared for verifying bodies.”

“I hate you,” Alastor grumbled.

“Do you have another one?” Andy asked Lucifer, and soon the two of them were both shovelling dirt. “What’s going to happen if he sees himself, though?” he asked after a while. Lucifer glanced at him and shrugged.

“Probably nothing,” he said. “He’s had worse existential realisations.”

Andy glanced over to where Alastor had turned his back on them. “As long as he doesn’t kill me for this,” he muttered and kept digging. It made Lucifer snort, which Andy had no idea if he should take as a sign that Alastor would definitely kill him for it, or not. He hoped for the latter but expected the first. “I’m guessing the copycat won’t be too happy about this, either.”

Lucifer chortled. “That’s the point,” he whispered, making Andy pause with his shovel stuck in the ground. He straightened his back and looked around, trying to see if there was anyone else around, but other than a tense-looking Alastor, there was no one. Not that he could see, at least. He gave Lucifer a concerned glance, but the devil just smiled cheekily at him and kept digging. Andy followed suit.

A change in sound made Lucifer let out an excited “woop,” and toss the shovel over the side of the deep hole they’d dug. Andy felt sweaty from the physical exertion and got up from the hole, sticking his shovel into the ground. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down into the grave as Lucifer bent down and started digging with his hands, instead.

“Hello there, old friend…” Lucifer said. Andy felt his heart speed up as he took a step back. He glanced at Alastor who still had his back turned to where Lucifer was bringing something out of the grave. “This feels so weird,” he told Andy as he showed him what he had in his hands. “Hey, Sweetiepie McMuffinTop!” he yelled at Alastor. “Come say hi!”

Andy ignored the nickname in favour of staring at the skull in Lucifer’s hands. It looked well-enough preserved. All teeth were still there and attached. The lower jaw was gone. In the middle of the forehead was a hole. Spindly cracks surrounded and stretched out from it.

A gunshot wound caused by a deer hunter.

“Tell me when he’s dropped it,” Alastor said, clearly knowing exactly what Lucifer was holding.

“You’re no fun,” Lucifer huffed. “He doesn’t bite!” The evil grin on his face widened. “Much,” he added. “He could actually bite a lot more if I’m being honest—”

“This is not the time—” Alastor hissed, trying to cut him off, but Lucifer ignored him, looking back at the skull with a certain interest.

“Wow,” the devil muttered. “The guy really hit right in the middle.” He showed the skull to Andy, again. “That’s actually quite impressive.” Andy agreed, while also trying to stop the intensity of knowing that the owner of the skull stood right beside him. Lucifer looked at Alastor. “Are you sure it was accidental?”

“Lucifer,” Alastor spat.

“Yeah, yeah,” the devil said and turned back to the skull in his hands. “Can I bring it back with me?”

Alastor’s eyes widened. “What the—no!”

“Might be a bit too disrespectful, dude,” Andy shot in, which made Lucifer pout playfully. “Even if he was a cannibalistic serial killer.”

Lucifer snickered. He kept his eyes on Alastor like he really wanted his husband to turn around and look at him. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll put it back.”

“Good,” Alastor grumbled.

“A small kiss goodbye,” Lucifer said slyly, which finally made Alastor twirl around to look at him. His eyes immediately landed on the skull. Lucifer’s expression darkened as he turned the skull in his hands and placed his cheek against the cheekbone on the skull. “Look how cute,” he said sweetly, which made Alastor grab his own head—the one attached to a body, turn on his heel and march back in the direction of where they’d parked.

Andy watched him go, before he turned back to Lucifer. “A bit much?” he asked.

“He’ll be fine,” Lucifer assured him, before he actually did end up kissing the skull. It was just a quick peck on the bridge of the skull’s nose, but it still looked incredibly disturbing. The devil didn’t seem to mind. He actually looked a little nostalgic and sad as he shuffled back over and into the grave where he’d picked up his husband’s head from. “It’s nice to see you again,” the devil muttered before he carefully put the skull back down into the grave. “Been a while.”

Andy felt strange watching the way Lucifer continued to talk to the body of his husband while he started pushing dirt back over the remains. It was almost a little bittersweet. It also made him wonder how much the two of them had been through during their time on Earth. It had seemed like quite a lot from how they talked about it. A deep friendship that had eventually ended in marriage, even if it took a hundred years.

Lucifer jumped out of the hole they’d dug and picked up his shovel, before he started scraping the dirt back into the grave. Andy hurried to help him, knowing they still had things to do that day, and they’d used a while to dig up the bones in the first place.

When they were done, Lucifer grabbed the shovels and let them disappear, before he stopped and looked back down at the grave for a moment.

“Do you miss it?” Andy asked quietly. Lucifer didn’t look at him. “Your time on Earth?”

The devil huffed and smiled sadly. “Both yes and no,” he said as he gestured for Andy to join him back to the car. They walked slowly between the graves over to the path. “Yes, because we had a lot of fucking fun, and no because the most important thing for me was having him by my side,” he explained. “I see him every day, now, and it makes me the happiest being in the universe.”

“Still having fun?” Andy asked slyly.

“Enjoying every second of it,” Lucifer confirmed with a grin. “Still, there’s something about meeting someone in one stage of existence and then thinking you might never see them again, only for them to show up almost a hundred years later that makes seeing things from their previous life all the more special,” he added quietly. “We were kept apart for a long time,” he told Andy, who wondered how that worked, but then he thought about the hierarchy and his own impression of what Hell was and figured it might actually not be that strange after all. “For that time, I only knew him as Al.”

“Really?” Andy asked.

“Yup,” Lucifer drawled. “You’re not the only one he didn’t want to tell his name to. I understand why he preferred not to say, but it made it even more difficult to figure out who he was when he got to Hell.” He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “We didn’t find each other until we had a chance-meeting at my daughter’s hotel.” Lucifer grimaced. “Well, more like an orchestrated chance-meeting. Almost a hundred years apart, and I was so stuck on his human features I didn’t recognise him at first.”

“Shit,” Andy murmured. He could see why it would be difficult to recognise the former human. The demon he was, now, looked quite different. The colours, the ears, the antlers, the eyes. He looked the same but completely different, somehow. If Lucifer hadn’t actually been looking for it, he wouldn’t have known, most likely.

“I could’ve recreated his face in my sleep,” Lucifer said, sounding a little distant, like he was stuck in the past. “And then I recreated it while I was awake, instead. I’m the one who made the meat suit he’s wearing.”

“Referring to a human body as a ‘meat suit’ isn’t something I expected to hear, if I’m being honest,” Andy muttered, making Lucifer huff out a laugh.

“It’s not a human body,” Lucifer said. “I don’t have the ability to make life like my dad does. Not that type of life, at least. It’s more like a disguise. It’s a part of him, now, so he can change back and forth whenever he wants.”

“Is that what happened with the deer incident, too?” Andy asked, which made Lucifer grin.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what happened,” Lucifer snickered. “Sorry about that one.”

“You already apologised for it,” Andy reminded him. “Even though I feel like you’re not.”

“Not at all, actually,” Lucifer told him as they got to the gate. Alastor stood leaning against the car with one arm across his chest, and the other one massaging his forehead. He looked like he was having quite the headache, and Andy couldn’t blame him. “Phantom pain, I think,” Lucifer whispered to him as they got closer. “I don’t think he remembers much of getting shot, but it must’ve hurt.”

“He must’ve died more or less instantly,” Andy replied quietly, recalling how smack-dab in the middle of the skull the bullet had hit.

“I did,” Alastor said as he looked up at them. Andy grinned sheepishly as they made their way over to the car. “That doesn’t change the intense headache seeing your own skull in the hands of your husband causes,” he added grimly as Andy unlocked the car.

“Are we even, then?” Andy asked.

Alastor glared at him. Lucifer grinned.

“Yup,” the devil agreed.

“Indeed,” the Radio Demon grumbled.

“No more pranks?” Andy continued as he made his way over to the driver’s side door. The two demons nodded. “Wonderful,” Andy said. “Let’s get going, then. I want to check out that guy before it gets dark.”

Alastor and Lucifer got in the car, and it didn’t take long before they were on their way in the direction of their vacation house. Alastor kept rubbing his forehead, and Lucifer once again had his phone up and was continuing to text. Andy wondered if it had anything to do with the meeting they missed, or if there was someone else.

“Who’re you talking to, then?” Andy found himself asking.

“My daughter,” Lucifer said before he glanced up at him and met his eyes in the mirror. “Just telling her about the case.”

“Oh,” Andy muttered, before Lucifer shuffled forwards and leaned his head on his seat. “What are you doing?”

“She wants to know what you look like,” Lucifer told him and held his phone up and grinned at the camera. Andy glanced at the screen just in time to see Lucifer take a picture. The scepticism he saw on his own face made him purse his lips and look back at the road. Lucifer hummed thoughtfully and shuffled over to the other side of the car. “How’s your head?”

“How do you think?” Alastor scoffed as Lucifer held his phone up and took a picture of him, too. “Stop it.”

Lucifer chuckled and moved back into the backseat, leaned his back against the door and propped his legs up on the seat beside him. He was just short enough to fit comfortably, it seemed. Andy still wanted to tell him to put on a seatbelt, but the devil had refused as usual.

“It’s just for Charlie,” Lucifer told Alastor, who let out a quiet sigh. “And you look great. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t care what I look like,” Alastor muttered and closed his eyes. He leaned his elbow against the door and rested his forehead in his palm. “Ugh,” he growled.

“Do you need some tylenol?” Andy asked and stretched over the centre console and opened the glovebox. “I don’t know how well it helps against what you’ve got, but it could be worth a try?”

“I don’t think human pills have much of an effect on demons,” Alastor told him dryly. “But thank you,” he added quietly, looking like he was planning on sleeping for the rest of the trip.

Andy muttered an, “okay,” before he closed the glovebox again and focused back on the road. “I was talking to Pierce earlier, by the way.”

“Oh, right,” Lucifer said, looking up from his phone. “What did he say? Was it the thing you were whispering about?”

“Yeah,” Andy said. “We’ve come to the conclusion that the one stealing evidence have to be one of the ones working on the case.”

“Are you a suspect yourself, then?” Lucifer joked.

“No,” Andy replied curtly. “But the rest are still suspects. Even the captain, to be honest.” He rested his head in his hand, steering the car with the other. “Winston, Hensley, Carter and Scott are the main ones, I’d say.”

“Alright,” Lucifer muttered, putting his phone away.

“Do you know who it is?” Andy asked.

“I have a strong hunch,” Lucifer answered him as he once again moved to lean between the seats. “I’m guessing you still don’t want me to tell you?”

“No, don’t tell me.” Andy combed his hand through his hair. “I still want to figure it out myself.”

“Then, what do you think?”

Andy paused. “Honestly? I don’t know,” he admitted. “None of them have a motive to be a serial killer,” he said. “I know all of them. We’re a close unit. They all care about people.”

“Psychopaths are incredibly good at playing nice,” Alastor muttered from beside him. His eyes were still squeezed shut, but it looked like the worst of the pain had started to diminish.

“I know,” Andy said. “But that still doesn’t mean I think any of them are a serial killer. Most of them have families. They all seem to have pretty good lives, as far as I know.”

Lucifer hummed and tilted his head. “What does your gut tell you?”

“That none of them are the serial killer,” Andy said immediately, knowing it to be true. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he remembered Pierce talking about the cuts. “We also don’t know if there’s one person or more of them. I thought the cuts were made by two people for a while, but Pierce mentioned it could be one. He said the cuts could be from the killer forgetting himself.”

“Losing concentration and fucking them up?” Lucifer asked curiously.

“More like getting so lost in cutting that he forgets to cut them shittily,” Andy corrected him, which made Lucifer smile and glance at Alastor.

“Sounds familiar,” he said.

“Whatever that dunderhead has been doing to the bodies is not the same as what I do,” Alastor hissed. “Trying to hide your knife skills just to avoid getting caught,” he scoffed. “What a moron. Part of the excitement is potentially getting caught.”

“Like that one time,” Lucifer chuckled, making Alastor crack his eye open with a grin.

“Yes,” he muttered, making Andy glance at them. Alastor closed his eye again. “You’re suggesting someone with a certain knife skill, then, detective?”

“I still don’t know,” Andy muttered.

“I think you do,” Alastor argued. “You just don’t want to jump to conclusions, and thereby possibly ending up with the wrong person.”

“I just want more evidence,” Andy said as he turned onto the dirt road up to the demons’ house. The change of surface made Alastor open his eyes fully and sit up straight. Lucifer continued to hang between the seats. “I know I should at one point start accusing someone, but I can’t. If someone at the precinct really is involved in this case, then I have to be really, fucking certain who it is before I accuse them of anything.”

“Quite a pickle, indeed,” Alastor muttered.

Andy didn’t say anything as he parked the car outside the house. He sighed and turned the car off, before he got the key and stepped out. A light rain drizzled down between the trees surrounding the property, which in some ways felt refreshing, but also pretty annoying, knowing they were going to take a walk into the bayou. Rain would just make it extra slippery.

“It’s right down here, detective,” Alastor said and walked past him over to a narrow path leading down the hill past the porch of the house. Lucifer brushed past him, too, phone back up and a smile on his face as he texted who Andy guessed was his daughter. Their daughter, he thought as he made his way after them. “Watch your step,” the demon warned him. “I can be slippery.”

“I’ll be careful,” Andy promised, making his way down the steep hill after the two demons. He almost slipped on a root, but he got down more or less without a hitch. Lucifer still looked like he was moving like he knew the place better than the other two given how his nose was still buried in his phone screen. Though, when Andy looked closer, he wasn’t entirely sure the devil was actually walking on the ground or not. It looked like his feet barely touched the mud.

They walked for about twenty minutes before Alastor started to slow down. Lucifer had put away his phone by then, but still sauntered like he owned the place. Andy had fallen twice, which was embarrassing enough, but none of them had made much of a fuzz about it, thankfully. It helped that it looked like Alastor also seemed to struggle on some of the more slippery parts of the path.

The demon stopped and looked around. Andy wondered if his deer ears would be flickering around if he still had them. He could imagine it, at least.

Alastor tilted his head back slightly and turned his head. Andy realised he was scenting the air, which was an insane thought in itself. The human disguise combined with something so animalistic made him pull his jacket tighter around him and stuff his hands in his pockets. A less obvious way of hugging himself. It also looked like his head was going to keep turning, and Andy really—really did not want to see it go all the way around like some fucking owl.

Alastor’s head stopped turning, thankfully, before the demon walked straight off of the path and down a short, grassy slope. Lucifer didn’t hesitate to follow. Andy did hesitate, but more because he felt like he would fall straight on his ass. Still, he made his way down after them, making sure to put his feet in places where it looked like the grass wasn’t too much of a death trap.

When he got down safely, he realised he felt completely alone. The two demons were gone. Vanished. His heartrate increased as he glanced around, trying to locate them.

“I thought we said no more pranks!” he yelled.

A moment later, he saw Lucifer and Alastor peek out from behind a thick trunk. They looked more confused than smug, which made him realise he’d just lost sight of them while walking down the slope.

“He’s over here,” Lucifer informed him, pointing at something hidden behind the tree they were standing behind. Andy clenched his jaw as he hurried over to them. An amused frown crossed over Lucifer’s features as he got closer to them. “Did you really think we’d just leave you?”

“Shut up,” Andy grumbled and looked down at where Alastor stood crouched over the remains of a body. It had clearly been there for a long time. The skin was as good as decomposed. Some hair still stood up from the body’s scalp. Sunken eyes stared up at them from where it was curled up against the roots of the tree. It looked like it was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but the fabric had started to decompose, just like the rest of the body. “Shit,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure I heard something or not, that night,” Alastor said. “Apparently, I did.” He reached out, before he hesitated and looked up at Andy. “Can I touch it, or would you rather I don’t?”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Andy muttered. “Can you see anything just without touching it?”

Alastor turned back to the body in front of him and leaned closer. He clearly tried to look at the arms, but they were curled up against the body’s chest, hiding them from view behind his legs. The demon tilted his head and furrowed his brow as he looked at the ground. A moment later, his eyes widened and a smile stretched across his cheeks, before a familiar shadow moved up the trunk with a grin. Alastor’s shadow then fell back down and covered the body.

“No knife wounds,” Alastor informed them. “Or maybe a couple,” he corrected himself as he stood. “It also seems like he had a run-in with a gator. I don’t know for sure, of course.” He took a few steps to the side as if to try and get a better look at him. “He’s too decomposed to get a good look at him, anyway.”

“Could it be one of the copycat’s kills?” Andy asked.

Alastor stayed silent for a moment, before he nodded. “Yes, I would think so.” He rested his hands behind his back. “There are some wounds on the body. Some by his arms, especially, but worse than the ones we’ve seen him do before. A failed kill, perhaps?”

“Really?”

“Looks like he could’ve gotten away, but got lost on his way out of the bayou,” Alastor said. “I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s easy to lose your way out here. Everything looks the same for someone who hasn’t grown up with it.” Alastor hummed. “It happened a few times with my kills, too, if they managed to get away from me. Sometimes I found them a few weeks later while hunting someone else.”  

“No phone?” Andy inquired.

“No electronic devices at all,” Alastor informed him. “No personal belongings other than the clothes he’s wearing.”

“Stripped?”

“Possibly—” Alastor cut himself off and spun around to stare at Lucifer. “Do you mind?” Andy glanced at Lucifer, who was making a peace sign at his phone. He was holding it up at an angle, making sure to get all three of them—plus the body, into the frame. “It’s incredibly irritating.”

“Last one,” Lucifer promised as he took the picture.

Alastor rolled his eyes and turned back to the body. “As I was saying,” he grumbled. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the killer took his belongings and tossed them in the river somewhere. Especially anything that could be used to navigate or let him be located.”

“We did that mistake when we killed that other guy,” Lucifer piped up from behind them. “Usually, we wouldn’t actually let him call someone.”

“Which led to that whole deer-debacle,” Alastor continued uncaringly with a wave of his hand. “Anyway, I don’t think there’s anything that special about this kill. It’s a failed one, most likely…” he fell quiet, before he glanced at Lucifer. “Unless?”

Lucifer frowned at him. “Unless?”

“I mean, it could still be a failed one, of course, but I didn’t really get them into the bayou until you joined me. Some, sure, but not nearly as many. I only started doing that a few months before I met you.”

Andy stared at him. “You mean this could be an indicator on how far along he’s gotten?”

Alastor met his eyes. “It could be,” he confirmed, glancing back down at the body. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone else around. We also don’t know if there are others that have been killed and been disposed off around here. Still, that could mean he’s gotten closer to trying to replicate the kills made by the two of us, not just me.” He placed his hands on his hips.

“An associate?” Lucifer asked.

“Maybe,” Alastor admitted. “We can’t know for sure.”

“Fuck,” Andy muttered. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Why don’t we discuss it over dinner?” Lucifer suggested. “You’re still welcome if you want to.” Andy’s stomach growled, which both demons clearly heard. Lucifer grinned. “That settles it,” he said and clapped his hands together. “I don’t know about you guys, but it’s getting dark, and I’m really not in the mood to walk around the bayou when I know we’re having a dinner guest.”

“You’re going to destroy his sanity,” Alastor muttered.

“That train left the station the moment I summoned you,” Andy huffed.

Lucifer grinned. “Teleportation it is,” he said, which, okay, Andy didn’t know if he wanted his sanity annihilated, but he had no say in it as a golden spark flickered to life in the air. It expanded rapidly into a circle. Andy stared at the sight of his car on the other side of it. “Detectives and husbands first,” Lucifer said and waved towards the circle. Alastor rolled his eyes and walked straight through it.

“What the fuck,” Andy breathed, feeling a slight headache just at the sight of it.

“Just step right on through,” Lucifer told him, and Andy decided to just go for it. He reached a hand out and almost expected feeling some sort of resistance, but his hand went straight through the portal. “Oh, nice, it works for humans, too,” Lucifer muttered.

“What.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Lucifer grabbed his shoulders and pushed him through the portal. Andy stumbled at the uneven ground in their driveway, feeling completely disoriented at the fact that he suddenly stood beside his car. He stared at the portal as it closed, before he watched Lucifer step past him and move over to the stairs up to the porch. Alastor was unlocking the door and opened it for his husband, who reached up and caressed his cheek on his way past him into the house. Andy stared at them for a moment longer before he looked at his car. He got his key out of his pocket and pressed the unlock button. The lights flashed.

“Are you running away?” Alastor asked him from where he stood in the doorway.

“No,” Andy croaked. “No, I just needed to check,” he said and locked his car, again. He then unlocked it and locked it one more time just to be sure that it was indeed his car, before he shuffled away from it and over to the stairs. “Sorry,” he said as he stepped up onto the porch.

“Humans aren’t meant to teleport,” Alastor said and gestured for him to step inside. “I know how awful it is in the beginning.”

Andy nodded, feeling the strange sensation of bonding with a serial killer/demon over something as wild as teleportation. He stepped into the house and felt another rush of just pure surrealism as Alastor closed the door behind them. He got his jacket off and hung it on the coat stand, before he glanced at Alastor. He saw the demon shrug off his own coat and hung it beside Andy’s, before he walked past him through the door into the living room while rolling up the sleeves on his red shirt.

Andy followed him in, seeing the antique look of it all. Three big windows made it easy to gaze out into the bayou outside. A corner sofa stood by the far wall. A coffee table was placed neatly in front of it. A bookshelf was placed below the window closest to the entrance, and a piano stood between two doors on the right wall.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Andy said, continuing to look around. Everything felt somehow brand new as well as extremely old, which was another strange sensation of surrealism that Andy couldn’t quite get rid of.

“I got it rebuilt exactly how it was in the thirties,” Lucifer said from somewhere in the house. Andy turned around and saw a small hallway leading to an open doorway into a kitchen. Lucifer looked like he’d started gathering whatever they needed to make whatever dish Alastor had decided on. “So, if you’re wondering what it was like back then, this is it.” He paused with an onion and a knife in his hand, before he pointed the knife at Andy. “Except the basement,” he said. “Don’t go into the basement.”

“I won’t,” Andy promised, feeling a pull to go and do exactly that.

“Some of the furniture is the same as back then, too,” Alastor said as if he was particularly excited about that part. He took out a record from a rack beside an old gramophone player. “Do you mind jazz?”

“I love jazz,” Andy told him, seeing the approval on the demon’s face as he placed the record down on the player. “My mom let me take saxophone lessons while growing up. I’m not a virtuous by any means, but I enjoy playing it every now and again.”

“How interesting,” Alastor said as he placed the needle down, letting music stream out from the old speaker. “My mother let me take piano lessons,” the demon said and stepped away from the gramophone. “Hence the piano,” he said on his way past it. “Taught by one of the geniuses who played at one of the restaurants my mother and I frequented.”

“You still play?” Andy asked, following him into the kitchen.

“Of course!” Alastor said and went over to the stove where Lucifer had put down a pan and a casserole. “It might surprise you to learn that Hell is quite a musical place. Playing instruments makes it a great deal more fun.”

Lucifer hummed quietly where he cut up a few vegetables. “No one really knows why,” he admitted, making Alastor raise an eyebrow at him.

“I think you’ve influenced it, dear,” he said.

“You really think so?” Lucifer asked and glanced at him over his shoulder. Andy felt completely out of his depth. “Well, I mean, I guess it could’ve been. I do love me a good song.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Andy asked, feeling like it was better to do something instead of standing there awkwardly while the two of them worked.

“You can set the table,” Lucifer suggested and pointed him in the direction of where the plates were.

Andy stepped over and reached past Lucifer and got three plates, before he went back over to the table and started placing them down. There were six chairs, so he decided it would probably be best setting them down around the three chairs at the end of it, closest to the window. He pushed down the urge to once again check that it was his own car standing outside, before he went over to get the cutlery and glasses. Lucifer told him to get the wine glasses, to which Alastor had told him it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to let Andy drink if he was going home that evening.

Andy decided to go for water that night, remembering the night before. He didn’t feel like he needed to drink two nights in a row, which the demons respected.

“It has almost no effect on us,” Lucifer told him as he put the wine bottle down on the table. “Like, literally almost nothing. You should’ve seen the looks I got from bartenders back in the day.”

“I wonder what would happen if we gave him some alcohol from Hell,” Alastor said as he put the casserole down on the table.

“He’d overdose immediately and die,” Lucifer said. “I tried to give it to a human once. I won’t do that again.” Lucifer grimaced and opened the wine bottle with his finger, much to Andy’s bewilderment. He could clearly see the skin shift from a human, light beige to almost charred. His nail turned sharp as it buried itself into the cork.

“When was that?” Alastor asked.

“Ehrm,” Lucifer muttered as he poured the wine into Alastor’s glass. “That’s a difficult question, to be honest. Sometime around the Roman Empire. Gave it to him at a bar because he looked sad. Killed him by accident.” Lucifer huffed. “They thought I poisoned him.”

“Well, you technically did,” Alastor pointed out, making Lucifer purse his lips and shrug.

“I keep forgetting you’re some ancient being,” Andy muttered. “You look like you could be thirty or something.”

Lucifer grinned. “I moisturize,” he said.

“He doesn’t,” Alastor drawled, grinning back at Lucifer when the devil gave him a dry look.

Andy huffed, making the two of them glance at him. Alastor offered him some of the casserole. Andy accepted it and while he sat there and got to know the devil and the serial killer, he couldn’t help but feel like his earlier statement about Lucifer being his friend was starting to feel closer and closer to the truth. It should bother him, of course, but it didn’t. The two of them were (absolutely), remarkably sweet in their own way, and while Andy had problems grasping the true extent of what a friendship with the two of them entailed, he found that the initial regret he’d felt at summoning them had ended up getting replaced by some strange appreciation for the two of them.

He would still be careful, of course. They could still kill him with just a glance. He was fully aware of that, but that didn’t stop him from realising that he wasn’t feeling even remotely threatened by them anymore. Lucifer had pointed a knife at him and his heart hadn’t as much as skipped a beat. He felt comfortable around them, and that wasn’t something he ever thought he’d be.

The dinner lasted a few hours while the three of them shared stories and continued to discuss the case and what else they could do now that they had some more knowledge about it all, and how Andy would try and find out which of his colleagues was the one leaking information to the copycat, or was the copycat themselves.

He left the house feeling like he’d gained a couple of friends.

The Devil and the Bayou Killer.

Damn, he was going to Hell. 

(I've been laughing at this for months)

Chapter Text

Lucifer yawned and shuffled closer to the warm body in front of him. He buried his nose in Alastor’s chest and breathed him in, feeling that specific rush of calm wash over him. His husband seemed completely dead to the world where he was snoring lightly. Lucifer grinned to himself.

Alastor had been pretty mad about the skull-incident, but Lucifer still found it way too funny not to have done it. The detective had joined in on it, too, which had just been a bonus. The young cop seemed to get more and more comfortable around the two of them, and the fact that he’d actually agreed to join them for dinner at their house had been something Lucifer had seen as a great opportunity to learn more about him.

Andy Greene, Detective Trainee of the NOPD. A strange man, for sure. Lucifer believed him when he’d told them summoning them was an accident, but the way he’d gone from being mostly against them to actually becoming something closer to friends made Lucifer’s heart warm in his chest. Not to mention he found the guy absolutely hilarious to mess with. He’d found it even better when Andy had started playing along with Lucifer’s antics. A strange man, indeed. Probably completely delirious at this point, but still a fun person to know.

Lucifer shuffled backwards and out of Alastor’s arms, before he felt a hand around his wrist. He looked down and saw his husband holding onto him. Alastor cracked an eye open. It was slightly more difficult to see them without their usual glow, but Lucifer could still see him looking at him in the dark.

“Where are you going?” Alastor asked suspiciously, which Lucifer could absolutely understand.

“I just have a thing I have to do,” he replied, which obviously wouldn’t help his case. “You know.”

Alastor sucked in a deep breath before he let it out in a sigh. “Don’t you dare bring the skull back,” he grumbled as he nuzzled his face into the pillow and let go of Lucifer.

“I promise,” Lucifer promised quietly. “How’s the headache?”

Alastor sighed and glanced up at him, looking particularly annoyed. “Not gone, but better,” he informed him grumpily.

“Good,” Lucifer said and leaned over Alastor, before he placed a chaste kiss against his temple. “I’m still sorry.” Alastor raised an eyebrow. “Okay, not that sorry, but I feel a little bit bad, at least.” His husband let out another, little grumble as he curled up around his pillow. Lucifer huffed and shuffled out of bed. “I’ll be back in no time.”

“Mhm,” Alastor hummed doubtfully.

Lucifer chuckled and used his powers to change clothes, feeling like he didn’t want to spend more time than necessary doing things the human way, before he made his way out of the bedroom, grabbed his coat from the coat stand and made his way out into the early morning. It was still dark outside. He knew it had to be just a couple of hours after midnight, but he had things to do and places to be.

He teleported to Holt Cemetery.

The place looked completely deserted except for a lone car standing in the parking lot. It had been there the day before, too. One of those sedans, Lucifer noted, before he started to walk into the cemetery. He followed the path the three of them had taken when they were there last. The lampposts made the two trees look extra dark where they stood and cast their shadows at the edge of the graveyard. Lucifer smiled to himself.

He started humming, and soon, he heard a few birds respond to his melody. He loved those little creatures. Such amazing little animals with the best voices in existence.

“Sorry for waking you up,” he told them as a couple of sparrows came flying down from one of the nearby trees and landed on a gravestone. “Feel free to go back to sleep.”

The bird told him they would rather hear him sing, and Lucifer couldn’t say no to that, so he continued to hum his little tune. Just for them. Another few came fluttering down from above. A couple of crows landed on the path in front of him, asking him what he was doing in the cemetery, to which he responded that he was there to pay respects to someone he knew.

Some of the birds seemed curious about what that entailed, and he told them about it. It was a human thing. Honouring the ones you’d lost. Not that Lucifer had truly lost Alastor, but he felt bad for digging up his remains the day before, so he wanted to make it up to him and actually make the place look decent, again. He could even fix it to the point where it looked like no one had been there, but he decided he would rather just fix it up so his husband would forgive him for being an asshole. It had been fun, and he didn’t regret it, but he still felt bad. Existential headaches could be awful, and from how Alastor had reacted, Lucifer definitely felt like he needed to make it right.

One of the crows flew away for a while before it returned with something in its beak. Lucifer let it land on his finger and grinned at it.

“You’re too kind,” he told it as he took the shiny, old-looking key from it so he could inspect it. It looked like it was made of iron, but had been used enough that the rust had been scraped off. “That’s a very nice thing you found. Why don’t you give it to him yourself?” he asked, handing the key back to the crow. It thought that was a wonderful idea, so it held its tribute and made its way up onto Lucifer’s shoulder where it settled down. “It’s my husband,” Lucifer told the birds who looked a little saddened by the loss of his partner. “It’s okay. He’s doing great, actually. It’s just his old body, you see.”

A couple of birds chirped and flew off. Lucifer chuckled as more and more of the little feathered creatures started flocking around him, listening to him as he talked to them about his husband. The birds listened closely to his stories as he strolled down the path with his hands in his pockets. The crow on his shoulder crowed a few questions here and there, and Lucifer answered. It was quite fun, actually.

He reached the two, big trees by the edge of the cemetery and made his way off of the path and over towards the place where Alastor’s remains had been buried. He ducked under a couple of branches and found the grave. The gravestone looked cracked and worn where it was covered in nature’s attempt at getting rid of it.

“Hello, old friend,” Lucifer said and crouched down in front of it. The crow on his shoulder jumped off and skipped over to the disturbed dirt. “I’m just going to fix your grave a bit,” he told the remains of his old partner in crime. He reached down and started picking out the flowers that had ended up getting mixed up in the dirt, tossing them carelessly over to the side. “I can’t believe he’d give you Sweet Williams,” Lucifer scoffed as he continued to pick.

The flock of birds seemed to understand what he was doing, and some of them hurried over to help. They dug down and picked at the stems, pulling out the ones buried below. Lucifer thanked them for their help. The crow waited with its key behind the grave, while a couple of others came flying in with other treasures they’d found.

When Lucifer felt he’d gotten rid of the copycat’s trace on the grave, he smiled to himself and spawned a bouquet. He wasn’t going to plant them, knowing his husband’s love for wilted flowers.

“Fifteen red roses to say I’m sorry,” he started to explain to the remains. “Dahlias because I want to keep you by my side forever, even if you refuse to let me keep your skull,” he continued. “A few peonies and a couple of carnations because I love you, and of course a few yellow roses because you’re my best friend,” he said and grinned. “Oh, and of course…” he trailed off, spawning a small deer sculpture made of stone.

The birds that had brought a few things waited for Lucifer to put down the flowers and the little statue, before they made their way over to him and started placing them down. The crow placed its key beside the deer. The smaller birds had everything from diamond earrings to pretty rocks to candy wrappers that they put down.

“He’s going to be very grateful,” Lucifer told the birds. He placed his hand down on the gravestone and patted it, before he got to his feet.

The birds screeched and startled, flying away in a panic.

Something was pressed against his back, and Lucifer tried not to laugh as he raised his hands.

Just in time, he thought as he heard the guy behind him pull back the hammer on the gun. He’d expected it, of course. The man had been there the day before, too. Same car. Same person. He’d seen him moving between the trees after he spotted Lucifer approaching.

“The copycat I presume?” Lucifer said. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Shut up and do exactly what I say,” the man grumbled. Lucifer had never heard his voice before, but the sin wafting off of the man made it clear as day to him that it was, indeed, the serial killer trying to copy his husband.

“Or else?” Lucifer asked, trying to make himself sound slightly worried, but he just didn’t care enough. He was completely calm, knowing the copycat had no way of killing him. Not really, at least.

“Or else I’ll kill you,” the man said, jabbing the gun into Lucifer’s back. Lucifer snorted, which wasn’t the best thing to do.

“Look,” Lucifer said as he lowered his arms slightly, letting his elbows rest against his sides. He still kept his hands visible for the man, but he couldn’t be bothered to do more than that. “To be completely honest, knowing what you’re planning to do to me, having a gun pointed at me feels a lot less worrisome.”

“Shut up,” the man spat. “Start walking.”

“Where?” Lucifer asked just to be annoying.

“Towards the parking lot,” the man said like he found Lucifer to be a complete idiot who wasn’t afraid of having a gun pressed against his back. “Slowly. If you run, I’ll shoot you.”

“Good thing I prefer walking,” Lucifer replied cheekily and started moving away from the grave. “Is this because I dug him up yesterday?” he asked. He’d hoped this would happen, actually. Getting kidnapped by the damned killer was quite funny, in his opinion, especially being the husband of the original. He also found himself looking forward to seeing what Alastor would do when he found out.

“Stop fucking talking,” the man hissed.

“Oh, so it is,” Lucifer muttered. “Who are you, anyway?” The silence that met him made Lucifer snicker. “Of course. Can’t tell me in case I actually end up running away. I’m surprised you haven’t blindfolded me, too.”

“There’s no need,” the man said as they got closer to the parking lot. “You won’t be able to escape.”

“I could probably leave whenever I want, actually,” Lucifer said, mostly to himself. He grinned when he heard the man scoff. He wondered if it was the person Alastor had mentioned. Lucifer had refused to tell him who the accomplice was, but his husband had been pretty open about his theories and who he thought had been behind it all. None of them knew anything about motives and such, which was why teaming up with the detective had been incredibly interesting, especially when they got into the different theories of why the copycat would choose to go after people in such a brutal way.

They got to the parking lot, and Lucifer headed straight for the car. The man continued to follow behind him before he told Lucifer to stay where he was and moved around him to get the trunk open. Lucifer waited as he saw the man walk past him, gun still trained on him. There was nothing really special about the guy, Lucifer thought. Just some random human man. He looked average to the point where he almost looked a little boring. Slightly older, he noted, as well as having a pretty intense stare.

“Do you need some help?” Lucifer asked as the man struggled with the trunk.

“Fuck off,” the copycat growled and finally managed to open it. He gestured to the tight space. “Get in.”

“Sure,” Lucifer replied and made his way over to the car. The gun was still trained on him as he shuffled over to it, before he climbed inside. He might not have been the biggest person in existence, but it was still a tight squeeze. He made sure that all his limbs were inside the trunk before he grinned up at the killer. The man rolled his eyes and slammed the trunk shut. Lucifer giggled to himself as he listened to the man get into the driver’s seat and start up the car.

He adjusted the way he was lying and pulled his phone out. He guessed he could just call the detective, but just because he enjoyed the chaos, he decided not to. Instead, he let the device vanish so the killer wouldn’t suddenly make him toss it away, and turned his attention to his ring, instead. He continued to smile as he sent a quick message to Alastor saying he’d been kidnapped, which of course got an immediate response where his husband demanded to know where he was.

Now, the problem was that Lucifer had no idea where he was. He didn’t know where they were headed, or where they currently were. He’d never really learnt any names in the city and just saying he was somewhere in the trunk of a car made him feel like Alastor would be even more worried than he probably already was. Lucifer tried to assure him it would be completely fine, but he had a strong feeling this was more about the principle of the copycat killer taking something that personally belonged to the true Bayou Killer than true worry for Lucifer’s safety.

And, of course, Alastor was pretty particular when it came to who was allowed to stab Lucifer, which was something that he found quite sweet, actually. Still, he continued to find it really funny to just see what would happen (while also feeling the anticipation for when Alastor would absolutely end up confronting the copycat properly. He’d actually love to see that. He knew it would happen).

His ring stopped buzzing, and Lucifer smiled to himself. He knew Alastor was probably on his way to try and get the detective, which would be even better, actually. It was definitely the perfect opportunity for Andy to end the case.

He found himself thinking back on the case while they drove towards whatever destination it was the killer wanted them to be at. Being able to simply see that someone was a sinner or not took a lot of fun out of the case, technically. He’d known who the associate was the moment he realised there was an associate to begin with, and while he had met the person before, he hadn’t actually known it back then. He’d just assumed there was something else behind the guy’s sin. People sinned all the time, but some sinned more than others for whatever reason. For him, the only interesting part was why, and even then, it felt a bit dull. Humans did things for human reasons. Whatever those reasons might be, Lucifer struggled to care.

However, what he found a lot more interesting was how the humans figured it out. He was married to a former human, and while he also had some superhuman powers that had helped him figure out who the killer was, he also didn’t know who the accomplice was. Seeing both Alastor and Andy try and get to the right conclusion was interesting, because they needed to know the motive behind it, first. Lucifer didn’t need to know. He just knew. Just like he’d known that Alastor had been a serial killer from the moment he first saw him. He didn’t know why or how he’d ended up where he was, but he knew what he was.

Lucifer ended up closing his eyes to try and slumber while he was stuck in the awkward position in the trunk, but he was jolted awake by the car turning sharply onto a bumpy road. Trying to sleep while being tossed around was just about impossible, so he settled for trying to figure out where they were, instead. It didn’t work.

The car came to a stop after a few long minutes of getting bumped around, and Lucifer sighed, waiting for the man to come and get him. It took a while, but he finally heard him get out of the car. His footsteps crunched against the gravel as he made his way over to the trunk and opened it. Lucifer saw the gun pointed between his eyes, before he glanced up at the unblinking eyes of the copycat.

“Out,” the man said.

Lucifer smiled at him and did what he said. He swung his legs out of the trunk and jumped out, before he once again lifted his hands up in surrender. He looked around at the narrow tractor path they’d stopped on. He had no idea where they were other than being somewhere in the bayou.

“Nice place,” he commented, feeling like he would much rather explore it together with Alastor instead of standing there with some random man with a gun that was most likely going to try and make him run for his life.

“Come on,” the man said. “In there.” He pointed at a trail leading in through the trees. “We’re going for a little walk.”

Lucifer frowned. “And what if I refuse?”

The gun was pressed against his forehead. It made him smile. The killer’s crazy eyes locked onto his. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His intentions were clear.

“Is this how you lure them out into the woods?” Lucifer asked, pressing his head firmly against the barrel. The man said nothing. “What did you tell them that made them think they stood a chance, huh?”

“Shut up,” the man said, pulling the gun back just to slam the handle against the side of Lucifer’s face. It didn’t do much, but to keep the man from thinking he wasn’t actually a human, he let his head snap to the side. He brought his hand up to hold against the place of impact. He let out a quiet groan as he rubbed his skin. It didn’t hurt in the slightest. “Get a fucking move on.”

“No,” Lucifer said, only for the man to grab him by the coat. He felt the gun against his temple and the man’s breath against his ear.

“If you don’t want to die immediately, move,” he hissed. Lucifer supressed the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he brought his hands up, again. “Maybe you’ll be able to get away?” He said it like he didn’t think Lucifer would be able to get away at all.

“Don’t get my hopes up,” Lucifer huffed sarcastically and started moving towards the treeline. The man let go of his coat but stayed close enough to him that Lucifer knew he wouldn’t be able to run away without getting shot in the back. The problem was that Lucifer knew what the man planned. “So, you get them out into the bayou with a gun, and then what?” Lucifer questioned, pushing a bush out of the way so he could step onto the trail leading between the trees and down into the bayou. “I mean, personally, I’d much rather just get shot instead of, you know, getting cut up into pieces and eaten.”

The man kicked him in the back, making Lucifer lose his balance. He fell, tumbled down the hill and landed in a mud puddle. He grimaced and grumbled as he got back on his feet and brushed off the worst of it. He glared at the man, watching him step down the slope after him.

“Keep going,” the copycat ordered.

“Where are you taking me?” Lucifer asked as he started walking again. He felt like he regretted letting the man bring him with him, but once again he felt like it could be the perfect opportunity for the detective to be able to catch the guy. Well, at least figure out the guy’s identity. After getting marched around the bayou at gunpoint, he had a feeling a certain demon might get a bit mad. Actually, madder given how disappointed Alastor had been with the badly executed murders that were supposedly a tribute to him. Lucifer couldn’t wait to see what would happen if he let this guy “kill” him.

The man continued to say nothing as he kept forcing Lucifer farther down the trail. The path was barely visible between the trees, and while Lucifer could see it perfectly, a human who wasn’t familiar with it could potentially get lost pretty easily if they ended up in a situation where they had to run away. It was the same trick they’d used on the humans back in the 30s, technically, even if they’d gotten more inventive with it after a while, like bringing them back to the bayou by boat, or on some occasions, bringing them back to the house just to get trapped in the basement for a while, until Alastor found it fit to bring them into the bayou blindfolded and letting them go in a random spot.

Still, knowing the man had little, true knowledge about how the Bayou Killer operated, Lucifer had an increasing suspicion that the victim they’d found in the bayou the day before had been one of those that got away from the copycat by accident, not because the copycat had actually let him go. Not to hunt him, at least. It made him wonder how much the man knew about it. He knew Alastor had brought them out into the bayou, but he didn’t know he’d hunted them down like animals. He’d tracked them through the terrain and stalked them until they could barely move, anymore. Alastor had told him about one that he’d tracked for more than two days, once. It was one of those more athletic people who’d taken a while to exhaust himself. He’d met the same fate as the rest, of course.

Deeper and deeper into the bayou they went, and Lucifer found himself getting more and more bored the longer it took. He kept sending updates to Alastor, just to tell him what was going on, like how they were still going and moving and walking and trekking and so on and so forth. Other than that, they were having a pleasant conversation about work. Like, they still had things to do when this was all over. They still had to take care of Hell, and while Charlie didn’t mind being the stand-in for a few days, she still had her hotels, which meant both of them had to get back eventually. Lucifer guessed he could just go back whenever the man eventually decided to either put a bullet in him or butcher him alive, but he was too curious about his husband’s reaction to it, which meant he’d stick around.

“Okay,” Lucifer said after a while. “I’m getting really, fucking bored,” he announced and turned around so he could walk backwards, much to the killer’s surprise. The man tightened his hold on the gun cautiously. “Why me?”

The man looked confused. “What?”

“Why me?” Lucifer repeated, putting his hands in his pockets. He felt a clump of mud in one of them and pulled it out, tossing it away before he put his hand back. “I dug him up, but that can’t be the only reason.” The man frowned. “Or, I guess it could be. I don’t know. You don’t seem to really target anyone specific, so why me?”

The man still didn’t say anything, which was getting frustrating. Lucifer rolled his eyes and turned his back on him. He wondered if the man actually knew where they were, or if he just walked through the bayou without a proper direction. The path itself felt like something closer to a game trail than something made by humans. Lucifer felt like the guy had just stumbled upon it, once, and ended up using it to get people out into the bayou. He’d then probably kill whoever the person was, and then he’d use the trail to get back to his car.

“You know,” Lucifer started, trying to figure out if the man would be mad that he kept talking or not. When he didn’t tell him to shut up, again, he decided to keep going. “After being on this case for a few days, I realised you actually don’t know that much about the Bayou Killer. I mean, your cuts are horribly done, you don’t do the one thing that made him so fucking terrifying, and you just suck. At all of it.” Lucifer could hear the man suck in a breath, as if to try and stop himself from pulling the trigger.

“And you know more about him, is that it?” the man grumbled.

Lucifer shrugged. “I’d hope so. I’m married to his descendant, so.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And to be fair, out of the two of us, I think I’m the one who’s the most interested in him and how he did things. I’ve gathered information about him for years.” He grinned at how the man narrowed his eyes. “One could almost say I was there with him a hundred years ago.”

“Tell me about him, then,” the copycat demanded.

“What would you like to know?” Lucifer asked, fighting against the urge to smirk.

“Everything.”

Lucifer chortled darkly and focused back on the trail ahead of him. “The Bayou Killer was a hunter, not just a butcher,” Lucifer said as he stepped off of the path at one of the parts where the terrain was pretty flat. He didn’t want the man to notice. “Whenever he brought someone out into the bayou, he simply let them run away. He tracked them down and killed them when they were too tired to fight back.”

“You’re just trying to make me let you go so you can try and get back to the car,” the copycat scoffed.

“I’m not,” Lucifer said. It didn’t seem like the man knew they weren’t on the trail, anymore. He hadn’t pointed it out or corrected him, at least. He probably thought Lucifer would stay on the path, knowing he’d get lost if he didn’t. “Why do you think that one guy you tried to kill, like, seven months ago, got away form you?” Lucifer asked. “If you just brought him out here and let him wander for a bit, then I’m not surprised if he overpowered you when you tried to cut him up,” he continued, making his way between the trees.

The copycat hesitated. “How did you know?”

“We found him yesterday,” Lucifer told him, walking around a few bushes. The terrain sloped downwards and Lucifer could see water in the distance. It didn’t look like a river. More like a swamp. Water covered most of the ground, keeping the roots of the trees submerged. He could see movement and decided to change his direction just to try and get around the area. “Curled up against a tree in the bayou.” He hummed. “Gave up just a few minutes away from civilisation.”

“Where was he?” the man asked.

“I don’t know,” Lucifer replied with a shrug. “I’m not good at direction when it comes to this place. My husband found him.” He walked around one of the soggier areas, feeling the water seeping into his shoes. He didn’t really care, but it could potentially alert the killer of his plan. “You clearly have an associate, at least, but we couldn’t tell if they’d helped you with that one or not. I guess if you actually had a helper, you would’ve been able to kill him.”

“He got out of my hold,” the copycat explained grumpily.

Lucifer glanced over his shoulder. “But you do have someone else helping you, right? You wouldn’t be able to find out enough about him just by going to that museum, right?”

The killer hesitated again, which Lucifer took as confirmation. Still, he waited for the man to keep talking. It took a while before the man cleared his throat.

“He doesn’t know,” he stated quietly.

“How the fuck doesn’t he know?” Lucifer questioned. He knew who it was. Of course, he did. The man reeked of sin. He’d killed someone. He’d killed more than one, too. Well, cops tended to have an air of sin about them, anyway, but it was usually slightly less obvious. A muted sin caused by what the humans deemed a kill in the line of duty. It was a kill nonetheless. “He should know. How can he not? He’s literally giving you the fucking information.”

“He doesn’t,” the man assured him, sounding a bit more confident. He didn’t elaborate, which Lucifer found quite irritating, actually. “You said he had a helper during the last year. His lover?”

“I never said they were lovers,” Lucifer said. An owl hooted from above, asking him if he was okay. He grinned up at it, trying to convey that he was. “Friends, more like it,” he corrected the man. “One held the guy down, the other cut him up. Made it a lot easier to be more precise.”

“I guess I need to find someone to help me out,” the copycat muttered. Lucifer felt the amusement of having his own copycat.

“You already have one,” Lucifer said.

“What about you?” the man asked.

“Hah! What?” Lucifer turned to look at him. “You already have an accomplice!” he exclaimed, laughing incredulously. “Me? Why the fuck would I help you? You’re not on the right level to even pique my fucking interest, let alone have me help you,” he scoffed, seeing the way the man’s eyes darkened. “You’re a fucking amateur,” Lucifer continued. “You’re relying on a gun to get people to follow you, you can’t fucking cut straight and don’t get me fucking started on your sloppy—”

A gunshot.

Lucifer had the quarter of a second to remember not to bleed gold.

How did humans react to pain, again? How did Lucifer react to pain?

He looked down at his right shoulder. Red blood bubbled up from the hole in his jacket. It didn’t look like it was bleeding much. He almost thought he had to make it bleed more, but then he realised that it just wasn’t that visible with the jacket. The bulled had gone through the lapel as well.

“Huh,” he muttered, lifted his left hand and peeled back the jacket, seeing how the red seeped through the black fabric of his turtleneck. “That’s not what he usually did,” was what Lucifer managed to say, because he really hadn’t expected the man to actually shoot him. He probably should’ve. “How lame.”

The man looked as shocked as him, but after a moment, he tightened his hold on the gun again, his brows furrowed and he squared his shoulders like he was trying his best to get over it. The lack of a pain response from Lucifer seemed to unsettle him, too, which Lucifer probably should do something about, but damn. The guy fucking shot him.

“Keep moving,” the man snarled as he moved closer to him. He grabbed Lucifer by the good shoulder and shoved him forwards. Lucifer stumbled on the uneven terrain and fell. He hissed, feeling his anger start to rise. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

He felt his eyes start to glow and his teeth sharpen. His nails turned to claws where they dug into the soft moss beneath him. His horns wanted to break through his skin.

“I said move,” the man said, firing another shot. The bullet hit the ground beside him. Mud and water sprayed into Lucifer’s face.

Oh, Alastor would enjoy breaking this man into pieces. Lucifer? Lucifer would enjoy watching. Maybe his husband would let him kill him? He really wanted to kill him. He wanted him under his control so he would understand who he was fucking messing with. He’d enjoy that. He’d enjoy that a lot. Alastor could have him on Earth, actually. The moment the man got to Hell he was Lucifer’s to deal with as he pleased.

He blinked and let his eyes turn back to normal. His claws dulled down back to human fingernails.

He got up and kept walking, grinning, his teeth sharp. Blood kept dripping from his shoulder, leaving a trail of red. He would wait for his bloodhound to arrive.

Oh, how he would enjoy seeing that pathetic human die. Lucifer would mark his soul. He would know who this man was the moment he entered his realm.

He would make him pay. 

Chapter Text

“Detective.”

Andy heard the raspy voice. He knew who it belonged to, technically, but he was so far into his dream that it felt like it was just a part of it. He answered, of course, wondering what they wanted. The voice didn’t seem to have heard him, however.

“Detective Greene,” it continued, sounding slightly more frustrated. Andy tried to answer it, again, but the owner of the voice still couldn’t hear him. He looked around the disco dance floor and tried to spot him, but he couldn’t. A shadow brushed past him. “Andy,” the voice hissed right into his ear, and Andy’s eyes shot open.

He screamed.

He wasn’t proud of it. He also wasn’t proud of the pitch of it, but that was another story.

There, in the dark, stood Alastor. Andy had heard stories about people who experienced sleep paralysis seeing demons standing in the corner, but where their demons usually tended to be a figment of their imagination—actually, now that Andy thought about it, the chance that the sleep paralysis demons were real had increased significantly after meeting the devil and his husband. Anyway, the Radio Demon wasn’t a figment of imagination, and he certainly wasn’t in any corner. He stood with his face inches away from Andy’s, eyes glowing red and sharp teeth grinning at him.

“How the fuck do you know where I live?!” Andy exclaimed, shuffling back and out of the way from the demon standing right beside his bed. “And what the fuck are you doing here?!” he added, because he couldn’t for the life of him understand why Alastor would break into his house in the middle of the night. That was a thing Lucifer was more likely to do from what Andy had gathered.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Alastor snarked, straightening his back making him tower over the bed. “Maybe because my husband was just kidnapped by the damned copycat killer of yours and because you’re supposed to catch the guy, I thought you’d like to know?” Andy stared at him. Alastor rolled his eyes and sighed, before he stepped over to the wall and flipped on the light switch. Andy cringed at the bright light and rubbed at his eyes. “Up with you, detective.”

“Kidnapped?” Andy asked, still trying to wrap his mind around Lucifer getting kidnapped by anyone.

“Yes, kidnapped,” Alastor growled. “You’re wasting precious time, detective,” he continued. “We have to go.”

Andy was about to ask another question when he felt something slide around his ankle. It felt cool against his skin, and he didn’t have time to process what was going on before he felt himself get yanked out of from under his covers. He hit the floor with a grunt, head knocking into the side of the bed. He groaned, grabbing his temple.

“Oh, how nice of you to get out of bed,” Alastor said with a mocking tone in his voice. Andy glared up at him, still feeling that cool sensation around his ankle. He glanced down, seeing a black shadow wrapped around it. The moment he spotted it, he let out another scream. He tried to kick it off, but his other foot just went straight through. “What’s next? Bathroom?” Alastor asked pleasantly, and Andy was forcefully pulled out of his bedroom. He swore as he tried to grab onto anything within reach. His fingers hooked onto the doorframe, only for more shadows to slap his hands away, letting the tentacle around his leg continue to pull him towards the bathroom. Alastor stalked after him, grinning down at him.  

“You don’t have to fucking drag me around, you know!” Andy spat as the door to his bathroom opened up.

“I saw it as an ample opportunity to wipe the floor,” Alastor said, glancing around the dark living room. Andy looked around, too, at the piles of take-out boxes, clothes littering the floor, and the dust bunnies underneath the couch.  “It sorely needs it.”

“Well, I didn’t know I was going to have company,” Andy snapped. He gave up trying to fight the shadow. He let it pull him into the bathroom before it finally let go. He got to his feet and closed the door, noting how Alastor continued to take in the state of his apartment. Andy pushed down the irritation and started getting ready.

How the Hell did Lucifer get kidnapped? What made the copycat go after him, of all people?

The thought of Lucifer’s words from when they’d been standing knee-deep in a grave came to mind. He’d said he knew the killer would be mad that they dug up Alastor’s remains. The killer must’ve been there. He must’ve been in the fucking cemetery, and while that was a worrying thought, he couldn’t remember seeing anyone else around. A couple of cars in the parking lot, but those could be there for other reasons. Well, one of them had probably belonged to the copycat, and Andy hated that thought. He’d been so close to him. Closer than he’d probably ever been.

“Do take your time, detective,” Alastor said from the other side of the door. “It’s not like I have a husband that’s about to be brutally murdered by some idiot.”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Andy grumbled as he washed his hands. He was about to continue talking when something dropped down on the counter beside the sink. He jumped, staring at the pile of clothes. The demon had apparently decided he needed to change, which yeah, looking down at himself, running after a killer while dressed in a t-shirt and pyjama pants (which were also currently covered in a nice, grey layer of dust), probably wasn’t the best idea. “Thanks,” he muttered and started getting changed.

He was still buttoning up his shirt when he got out of the bathroom and saw Alastor stand in the hallway leading to the front door. He looked more like a shadow with glowing eyes and teeth. Andy rolled his eyes, buttoned the last button on his shirt and grabbed his car keys from the counter.

“No need for car keys,” Alastor said. “We have a chauffeur.”

“What?” Andy said, placing his car keys back down hesitantly. He picked up the apartment keys instead.  

“Come on,” Alastor urged him, nodding towards the door. Andy frowned and followed him. He got his jacket from the coat peg, as well as his gun from the dresser by the door, knowing they probably didn’t have time to go to the police station before they left. He checked the magazine, seeing it was filled up. He shoved it into the hem of his jeans, slipped his shoes on and walked over to the door. “Good idea to have a gun placed this close to your front door,” Alastor muttered, making Andy grimace.

“It’s for emergencies,” Andy huffed, seeing Alastor scoff and drop down into the floor. Andy stared at the spot where the man had vanished, and felt himself hesitate to step on it. The sound of a shriek from outside his door made him unlock it and throw it open, seeing Alastor smirking at… Winston? “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Winston looked a little pale as he turned to look at Andy. “What the fuck do you think I’m doing here?” he hissed. “It’s not by fucking choice!”

Andy turned to Alastor. “Did you kidnap him?”

The smile on Alastor’s face widened. “Why, I would never do such a thing,” he said. Winston narrowed his eyes at him, like that was exactly what he’d done. “I merely found him wandering aimlessly around the police station and decided he could be more useful helping us.”

“He threatened to eat my arm like a fucking turkey leg if I didn’t give him your address,” Winston informed Andy.

Andy sighed. “Of course, he did,” he said and closed the door behind him. He locked it and nodded at the two of them to follow him out of the building. They hurried down to ground level and out of the door. One of the police cruisers stood outside, and the three of them made their way over to it. “Where is he, then?”

“I don’t know,” Alastor admitted.

Andy paused with his hand halfway to the doorhandle on the passenger’s side. “You what?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Alastor repeated, getting into the back. “He doesn’t know himself, so then I don’t know.” He slammed the door shut behind him.

Andy frowned and got into the passenger’s seat. “You’ve talked to him?” he asked as he got his seatbelt on. Winston started the car.

“Indeed,” Alastor said. Andy moved his seat forward, realising the demon probably should’ve been the one sitting in the front given his height, but it felt too late, now. “He’s currently telling me about this recipe he found a few days ago.” The smile on Alastor’s face made a chill go down Andy’s spine. “Apparently some pork steak.” The demon hummed, like he suddenly realised something. “Actually, I’ve never heard him this excited about a steak recipe, before.”

“Where are we going?” Winston interrupted Alastor’s musings.

“Holt Cemetery,” Alastor informed him. “The birds should know something.”

“The what?” Winston breathed, but still got the car moving.

“Better to not question it, Detective Brooks,” Alastor muttered. He stayed quiet for a moment. Andy wished he could see him in the mirror, but the angle made it difficult. He’d rather not turn around just to look at him, either, like some sort of kid staring at you over the back of their seat at a plane. “He refuses to tell me about the car himself.”

“What?” Andy huffed. “Seriously?”

Alastor sighed. “He’s been trying to make me talk with animals, more. Especially birds, for reasons I’d rather not get into, right now.” He lowered his voice like he was talking to someone else. “Yes, I know, but you’re actually a good conversationalist in comparison to them. They’ve become quite insufferable after he started that damned cult.”

Andy decided to ignore that and instead turn to Winston. His colleague had a death grip on the steering wheel where he drove them through New Orleans. It reminded him of that one, very fucking important detail that had brought him to the cemetery the previous day in the first place. Not only did they have a killer on the loose, but they had their accomplice, too. It was one of his friends. The amount of nerves his colleague sported made him wonder if they should actually watch their backs when it came to Winston.

A certain irritation flashed through Andy as he stared at his colleague. “Winston.”

“Yes?” Winston bit out.

“I need to ask you something, and you need to be completely honest with me,” Andy said, before he turned around in his seat and looked at Alastor, who was playing with the little snake around his finger—well, it looked more like he was patting its head gently, yet roughly. He looked up and met Andy’s eyes, pausing his taps and raising an eyebrow. “Are you able to tell if someone’s lying?”

“In a more human way, yes,” Alastor said. “Not like how Lucifer can, however.” He tilted his head. “Well, I’ve never tried, actually. There’s a possibility that I can do it.”

“That’s enough for me,” Andy muttered, turning back to Winston, who kept giving him worried glances. “Are you the accomplice?”

Winston frowned. “Accomplice to what?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t ask him about this until he’s stopped the car?” Alastor asked from the backseat, making Andy realise that yeah, okay, it probably wasn’t the best idea to ask Winston while he was driving the car if he turned out to actually be associated with the copycat.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Winston scoffed, sounding like he wasn’t associated with the copycat.

Andy glanced at Alastor, who met Andy’s eyes with a shrug. “Great,” Andy muttered and leaned back in his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. If the demon couldn’t tell if his colleague was lying, then he didn’t feel like he could jump to conclusions. “I’ll wait until we get there,” he said, making Winston send him a confused look, before he turned his attention back to the street in front of him.

“You think someone’s working with the copycat?” Winston asked after a moment. Oh, fuck, he was a detective too. He forgot about that sometimes, which was strange, given that Winston was his colleague. He was just such a dude, you know? Sometimes they were more buddies than cops.

“There has to be,” Andy grumbled.

Winston whistled. “That’s not good.” He furrowed his brows, before his eyes widened and his grip on the steering wheel got tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. “Wait, you think I’m the accomplice?!” he exclaimed. He slammed on the breaks, making Andy yelp and brace himself, feeling the seatbelt tighten over his chest. “Sorry,” Winston muttered as they watched a woman raise her hand at them and continue her way over the crosswalk. “Me?”

“Well, I mean, I couldn’t rule you out, either,” Andy replied. Winston scoffed and shook his head, and got the car back into motion. “Someone’s been stealing from the evidence box. We’re missing documents.”

“And you checked the logs?” Winston asked.

“Our team is the only one with access, and we’re the only ones who’ve accessed it,” Andy said. “Unless someone’s been letting others check them out while they had them. It could be any one of us.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” Winston argued, turning down the last street leading to the cemetery. They drove past the Delgado community college, and Winston turned into the parking lot of Holt Cemetery. He stopped right by the gate and turned off the ignition. “It doesn’t have to be any one of us. It could be someone who has access to the evidence room and who saw one of us forget to close the locker or something.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. Andy and Alastor followed him. “It could be the janitor, even.”

“I highly doubt Mrs. Porter is the accomplice,” Andy told Winston. The older woman was the kindest person in the world.

“The kindest ones are often the ones with the darkest secrets,” Alastor muttered as he made his way through the gate, making Winston and Andy follow him. “But, from what we already know, it’s definitely one of you.”

“Maybe it’s you?” Winston said, pointing at Andy. “Why else would you accuse any of us others? You’re also the one who’s been working with the evidence the most. Should I be worried that you’re going to stab me in the back, tonight?”

“If anyone will be stabbing anyone, it’ll be me,” Alastor said from up front. “The copycat took my husband.”

“We need to arrest him,” Winston said. Andy was about to agree when he realised that they most likely wouldn’t be able to arrest him if Alastor joined them. This was personal. Serial killer versus serial killer. The original versus the (poor) copy. One of them would get out of this alive, and Andy’s money was on the one who was already dead. “Him and the accomplice.”

Alastor stopped and turned around. He grinned at Winston. “You’ll only get to arrest one of them. The copycat is mine.”

Winston glared at him. “What are you gonna do to him?”

The demon’s grin widened. “I’ll give him a lecture in how to murder people properly.”

Andy grimaced, having learned more about Alastor’s modus operandi during their few days together. He had a feeling the demon would make the guy regret ever trying to copy him. Well, copy him as poorly as he apparently had.

Winston turned to Andy. “Are you sure he’s not the Bayou Killer?”

Oh, and then there was that thing where he’d been wrong and had hoped Winston wouldn’t ask him that question.

“Didn’t Detective Greene tell you?” Alastor asked, tilting his head. “Why else would I be useful in this case?”

“Oh, you fucking asshole,” Winston snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Andy. “You said he wasn’t!”

“I didn’t know!” Andy blurted out, throwing his arms out in irritation. “They kept it from me until I realised it myself!” Alastor’s snickering made Andy glare at him. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a word,” Alastor said.

“Yes, exactly,” Andy scoffed as the three of them once again started to walk through the cemetery. “Don’t make me dig you up, again. I’m sure Lucifer wouldn’t mind sending me a fucking shovel.”

“Good luck contacting him,” Alastor said smugly. “He left his phone at home.”

“Who needs a fucking phone?” Andy replied. “I thought you said he wanted us to talk to the birds? Maybe one of them will be able to bring me one?”

“I’d like to see you try and communicate with them,” Alastor said as he stepped off of the path and made his way through the graves.

Andy huffed as he followed. “What if I pray to him?”

Alastor stopped abruptly and spun on his heel. “Don’t,” he warned. “We’re already in trouble with his dad, and I sure as Hell don’t need another reason to piss him off.”

“Another reason?” Andy questioned, making Alastor purse his lips.

“God??” Winston squawked, making the two of them turn to him. The man’s eyes looked like they were moment’s away from popping out of his head. Existential crises tended to do that to people, Andy decided.

Alastor cleared his throat. “Long story,” he grumbled. “Don’t accidentally start a cult.” He paused, grimacing before he added, “Or start a war between Heaven and Hell. Dealing with the consequences can be pretty painful.”

“How the fuck does someone accidentally start a cult?” Winston uttered like that was the wildest part of the demon’s warning, sounding seconds from losing his mind. Andy actually struggled wrapping his mind around it, himself, and he’d even been in contact with the damned cult himself. Still, there was something about knowing the person beside him was both a serial killer, demon, and the husband of a literal fallen angel, whose dad was God that made it extra difficult to understand (He wouldn’t even let himself think about the war-thing).

Alastor ignored him and made his way over to the two trees, ducking under the low branches. He came to a stop in front of his grave.

“Wait, doesn’t that mean God’s your father-in-law?” Andy said as he walked up beside him. He actually hadn’t thought about it until then. The thought in itself was absurd, but it had to be, right? He was married to his son (creation?), which meant… “Have you met him?”

“I’m getting a fucking headache,” Winston murmured from behind them.

Alastor didn’t answer him. When Andy looked at him, he saw the demon’s usually smug grin looking a lot sweeter than usual. Genuine, in a way. It only took him a glance down at the grave to understand why.

A bouquet of flowers, a small deer statue made of stone, and a bunch of tiny, little things, like a key, an earring and some candy wrappers. It looked like whoever had placed them on the grave had taken great care where to place them.

Alastor crouched down and picked up the bouquet. He brushed some dirt away from the petals and looked like he was counting the roses, before he let out a huff. Andy noticed the snake around his finger start to move. It slithered onto the flowers, slowly making its way around the bouquet before it returned to the demon it belonged to. Alastor brought the bouquet up and smelled it, before he placed it back down on the grave. He looked up at the tree closest to the grave and stood.

“What lovely things you brought me,” he said, making both Andy and Winston frown in confusion. That is until they heard chirping and looked up. Andy could hear the worried gasp from Winston the moment he spotted the dozens of birds sitting on the branches. A couple of crows and a bunch of sparrows, cardinals, wrens and others. He even thought he saw a pigeon or two farther up in the tree. One of the sparrows jumped down from the branch and glided over to where Alastor held up his hand for it to land on. It chirped excitedly. “Oh, really?”

“Fuck,” Winston whimpered, making Andy glance at him. His colleague looked like he wanted to run. His eyes were locked onto the feathered animals. “Why did it have to be birds?” he whispered.

“Because my husband is obsessed with them,” Alastor said, before he seemed to remember something. His smile widened dangerously, and Andy already knew what was going to happen before it did. “Why don’t you all come down and say hi?” Alastor asked the birds, who didn’t hesitate to stoop down towards them.

The number of wings hitting Andy’s face as the little creatures landed on him almost made him start slapping them away, but he caught himself just in time. He didn’t need to offend a bunch of birds, right now. He could feel their tiny talons gripping his hair and curl into his jacket. He didn’t usually mind birds that much, but this felt a bit much. Still, he forced himself to stay still until they’d settled down before he opened his eyes.

Okay, so Andy hadn’t expected the demon to be covered in birds, too, but there he was, one crow sitting nestled nicely at the top of his head, the other on his shoulder. His arm was littered with the creatures, sitting close together and staring at him. Alastor looked mildly annoyed by it, but then his eyes landed on Winston, and his expression changed to something much more gleeful.

Andy looked over to where Winston was not only covered in birds (including the pigeons he’d spotted), but also standing frozen with his eyes squeezed shut. He looked like he was about to freak out, and yeah, Andy wouldn’t be surprised if he did. The whole demon duck thing came to mind. The man let out a quiet squeak. The birds answered him with chirps and coos of their own.

“Please get them the fuck off of me,” Winston bit out. He grimaced when the birds started to move.

“Don’t be rude,” Alastor tutted and turned back to the bird sitting on his finger. “They’re being nice and helpful. Aren’t you?” he asked the bird. It tweeted happily. “Wonderful,” Alastor replied with a grin. “Now, I do really need your help. You remember my husband? The man with the flowers?” He gestured to the bouquet. “Do you know what happened to him?”

Andy watched the interaction the demon had with the bird while absentmindedly reaching up to pet one of the birds on his shoulder. It twittered and leaned into the touch. It felt strange, knowing these were wild animals. He glanced over to see Winston looking seconds away from crying. He was visibly shuddering where he stood, making the birds move around to keep from falling off.

“A dark car,” Alastor said, sounding like he wasn’t happy with the answer. “Can you tell me anything else about it? Was it a big car?” The bird looked at the others. One of the crows cawed. “Separate trunk, you say?” The crow cooed, making Alastor hum. “A sedan, I’m guessing. Colour?”

“Andy?” Winston hissed at him. Andy looked over to see his colleague finally having opened his eyes and was staring right at the pigeon on his shoulder. “Andy, I can’t do this.”

“It’s just a few birds,” Andy said. “Just don’t piss them off and you’ll be fine. You’re fine, man.”

“Do you mind?” Alastor asked the two of them. “I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“Sorry,” Andy muttered, feeling the birds sitting on his head start to move around a little. It felt like they were trying to preen him. The thought made him snort. It also tickled, which didn’t help. It all just added to the absurdity, and then the damned animals started chittering like they tried to mimic his giggling, which also didn’t help. “Sorry,” Andy repeated and turned away. “What the fuck is my life?”

“I think I’ll be able to find it,” Alastor told the birds. “Thank you.” None of the birds seemed to want to move. “You can go back to sleep. I’ll find him.” One of the birds chirped. “No, but I’ll tell him to come by when I do. Deal?”

The birds seemed satisfied with that and took off. The sound of Winston’s barely contained shriek combined with the impressive number of wings beating at the same time as the birds flew back up into the trees. The two crows stayed on Alastor. The one on his head jumped down to his free shoulder, instead. The mild irritation on Alastor’s face was back.

Andy looked at the now bird-free Winston. “See? You survived,” he said and walked over to him. He patted his shoulder, hoping his colleague would relax a little.

“I’m going to get fucking bird flu,” Winston grumbled. Andy rolled his eyes and picked a couple of feathers out of his hair. “Why are they so fucking disgusting?” he muttered.

“I’d be careful what you say around them,” Alastor said on his way past them. “Don’t want a repeat of what happened last time you offended a bird, right?”

“Sorry,” Winston said to the tree where the birds were all watching them closely.

Andy frowned. “Wait, so they do understand me?” he asked as he made his way around Winston to follow the demon out from under the trees and back between the graves. He could feel his colleague follow close behind him. Alastor didn’t reply, which was answer enough. Andy let out a cackle as he hurried up beside the guy. “Did you seriously lie because you didn’t want me to get Lucifer to give me another shovel?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Alastor scoffed as they got to the path. “It was simply so you wouldn’t end up distracting the birds from the real issue. We’re trying to find my husband, detective. Having the birds play telephone would be a waste of time.”

“Yeah, right,” Andy huffed.

Alastor grinned a little wider. “I don’t think you understand how annoying it is to play telephone with birds.” The crows cawed offendedly. “Oh, relax. The problem is that not all birds know what different human things are. If you ask for a shovel, you could end up with something completely different.”

“Have you tried?”

Alastor glanced at him. “Why would I try?”

“So, you don’t actually know,” Andy stated as they got to the car.

“I assume,” Alastor drawled. A couple of birds flew by, chirping down at the crows, who croaked quietly. Alastor hummed. “I guess I was wrong,” he said and opened the door to the passenger’s side. “They’re better than I thought.” He smiled at the crows where they finally jumped off and flew into the night. “There should be an old tractor path somewhere. Are we going?”

“The birds told you?” Winston asked hesitantly.

“The birds told me,” Alastor confirmed and got into the car, clearly deciding that he’d rather sit in the front, this time. “Or, they confirmed it, more like,” he continued. Andy got in behind him and shut the door. “Lucifer told me about the tractor path earlier, but I needed to know which one it is,” he explained.

“I’m going fucking crazy,” Winston whined as he got behind the wheel and started the car.

“Welcome to the club,” Andy mumbled and leaned back in his seat. “Which one is it?”

“In one of the more remote parts of the bayou,” Alastor told them. “I’ll give you directions.”

With that, the three of them fell silent as Winston put the car in drive. Andy felt his nerves start to act up. The fucking copycat. Of all the things he would do that night, he didn’t think he would end up going after the damned killer. They were about to catch him after almost three years. He’d killed a lot of people, probably more than they knew about. He was about to face him.

Well, he already knew he wouldn’t get arrested with how sure Alastor had seemed about taking care of him. Having personal beef with a demon had to be a death sentence, especially when the demon was a former serial killer with a taste for human meat.

Was that what the recipe Alastor had mentioned was for?

Andy wrinkled his nose and shuddered. The copycat would learn his lesson not to mess with demon royalty, he guessed. The hard way. The way where he got taught how to actually torture and eat people like how the Bayou Killer had done it back in the 30s.

Andy had a feeling he’d be a witness to it.

Alastor muttered the directions as they continued out of the city and closer to the bayou. He sounded a little quieter than he’d been earlier, like he was distracted. Andy noticed him staring at the snake around his finger.

“Are you okay?” Andy asked.

“He’s dead,” Alastor replied.

Andy felt his heart drop. “Who?”

“Lucifer.”

“How do you know?” Winston asked gently, making a turn when the demon pointed to another road.

Alastor let out a heavy sigh which turned straight into a sneer. “He just told me.”

“How the fuck—?”

“Detective Brooks,” Alastor interrupted him. “How my husband and I communicate isn’t important, right now. He’s dead. Or, in his words; d-e-d l-o-l, l-m-f-a-o.” He ran a hand through his hair and let out another sigh.

“What?” Winston breathed.

“He’s been trying to catch up on slang,” Alastor grumbled. “He’s about twenty years behind at this point.”

Winston let out another, incredulous, “what,” but didn’t question it further. Andy decided he wouldn’t, either, having a feeling the devil was just trying to fit in with the times. He looked like he was in his thirties more than however old he really was, and while he probably didn’t care much for what humans thought, he guessed he’d like to know what people were talking about whenever they got to Hell.

“It should be to the right up ahead,” Alastor said, and sure enough an almost invisible road went into the forest. Winston almost missed it, but after an uncomfortably harsh brake, he turned the car onto the bumpy tractor path. Andy grabbed onto the door to keep himself from sliding around in the seat. Winston drove slowly, making sure to ease the cruiser over the worst bumps. Andy hoped the killer wouldn’t hear them approach.

The tension in the car felt like it could be cut with a knife. Alastor was seething, it seemed, even if he looked pretty calm. Andy could see how the demon’s hand curled tighter around the grab handle. At one moment, there was a loud crack. Winston yelped at the sound, and Andy grimaced at the sight of the broken plastic in Alastor’s hand. The demon simply lowered his hand, bringing the handle with him, and tossed the remains on the floor in front of him.

“I’ll pay for the repairs,” Alastor murmured darkly.

“That’s alright,” Andy said.

“Hey, look,” Winston said, getting their attention. The two of them looked up and saw the back of a car. It didn’t look like a sedan, much to Andy’s confusion. That is, until they got closer and he saw that there were actually two cars. The sedan stood in front of what seemed like an older, electric BMW.

He knew that car.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Winston muttered as he parked the car behind the other two, effectively blocking them from leaving. Andy felt his heart beat faster as he got out of his seatbelt and hurried out of the car. The others followed him quickly. “Shit,” Winston hissed as they got closer.

Andy definitely knew that car. He’d been in it a lot, actually. It just belonged to the guy he considered his best friend.

Cameron Pierce.

“Fuck,” Andy croaked. “God fucking damn it.”

“The accomplice?” Winston asked.

“The fucking accomplice,” Andy hissed, kicking the car’s tire. The sound echoed through the trees surrounding them. “I can’t believe I thought I could trust him.” He wanted to hit the window, but if he accidentally ended up triggering the car alarm, the copycat and his accomplice would know they were there.

“What if he just figured it out?” Winston asked, sounding like he really wanted to hope that Pierce wasn’t behind the missing reports. “Like, he just found out who did and followed them out here?”

Andy shook his head. “I don’t know, but I sure want to find out,” he said.

“Who are we talking about?” Alastor asked as he stalked over to the two of them.

“Pierce,” Andy spat. “What a great fucking friend to have,” he continued, feeling like he wanted to get his frustration out somehow. It ended with him kicking the tire again, before he took a few steps around the narrow tractor path. “Fucking associate of the damned copycat killer he’s been so fucking helpful trying to catch.”

Alastor watched him pace for a few moments, before he turned his head to the woods. Andy stopped and followed his gaze, seeing an almost invisible trail in between the trees. He could barely see the outline of a few different sets of footprints, but they were clearly there, leading into the bayou. Andy pulled out his flashlight, but Alastor held up a hand, eyes still on the treeline.

“No lights,” he said.

“I’d like to see who’s about to kill me,” Andy retorted.

“I’d like that, too,” Winston agreed.

Alastor turned to look at them, again. Andy could see his eyes, he realised, which wasn’t a good thing. Not when they were usually not glowing in the dark. Not while he looked like a human, at least. He remembered the warning flash he gave him during his confrontation and the face that met him that morning. This didn’t feel like a warning, per se, but something else. Or, well, not a warning for the two of them.

Winston sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his eyes. Andy guessed they hadn’t showed their true appearances to his colleague. It made sense, given that they hadn’t really been too much with Winston except for when they were helping him with the evidence and trying to put the murders in order, as well as adding to the list with the ones the police back in the 30s hadn’t known about.

What a fucking waste of time that had been.

Andy put his flashlight back in his pocket. Winston did the same.

“Your eyes will get used to the dark eventually,” Alastor said and looked up at the sky. “It looks like the sky’s clearing up. We’ll have moonlight for a while until it gets lighter. Until then, we’re moving in the dark.” He grinned at them, and Andy could see his teeth, too. They looked a lot sharper than they’d been a moment ago. “Just stay close to me, and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Ah, yes,” Winston muttered. “Follow a fucking demon—the former fucking Bayou Killer, into the fucking Bayou in the middle of the fucking night. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Will you calm down?” Andy snapped, before he turned to Alastor. “Lead the way,” he told him, sending Winston a glare he probably couldn’t see, but that he hoped his colleague would feel.

Alastor looked between the two of them, rolled his eyes and made his way towards the treeline. The way he moved felt like he knew exactly where he was. It both worried and calmed Andy down enough to follow him towards the bushes. The demon pushed away the worst of it, keeping his hand on it until Andy could take over. He glanced over his shoulder at Winston, who looked like he wanted to stay by the cars.

Andy sighed. “Are you coming, or are you staying here?”

“What if they come back?” Winston asked.

“Then they’re probably going to kill you before you have time to do anything,” Andy replied dryly. He pushed at the branches a little harder to make more room. “Come on, Wince,” he said. “You won’t be able to see them before it’s too late.”

“What if we get lost?” Winston continued to argue. Andy could barely see his face it the dark, but the sound of his voice made him understand just how scared the man actually was. “I have a family, Andy. I can’t get killed for something as stupid as this.”

Alastor came back and glanced at Winston over Andy’s shoulder. “You’re safer with us than alone out here,” he said. “It’s impossible to get lost if you stay with us. If we do find that we’ve lost our way, I’ll just bring us back out.”

Over the last few days, Andy had learned a thing or two about the demons. One of those things was that the two of them could teleport, and they could bring people with them as they teleported around, which would be really helpful for Winston to know. The second thing Andy had learned was to trust them, as insane as it sounded. Both Alastor and Lucifer had helped him out more than a lot of people had during his life, and he actually found himself feeling like nothing could go wrong as long as they had his back. It was a foolish and idiotic thing to feel, but he felt it nonetheless.

However, had this been the first night he’d gotten to know the two demons, he’d never have followed Alastor into the woods no matter what he said. He understood Winston. He understood that he’d rather stay back and wait for them to return. He had people in his life that were more important than a copycat killer.

“He’s telling the truth,” Andy stated. “He saved my life just a couple of days ago while we chased down Nick. Stopped me from getting run over.”

“Worst case, I’ll just tell my husband to open a portal back home for you,” Alastor added.

“Portal?” Winston blurted out.

“It’s safe for humans,” Andy waved him off. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”

“He’s wasting time,” Alastor corrected him and moved back into the shadows and down the slope. “If you don’t follow me this instant, I’ll leave without the both of you, and you won’t be able to catch that colleague of yours.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Your choice.”

“Come on, Wince,” Andy repeated. Winston bit his lip and looked at the cars, before he took a deep breath and let it out. He nodded, once, clenched his hands into fists and walked determinedly towards Andy. “There you go!” he encouraged him and let him pass through the narrow passage between the trees. Andy let go of the bushes once Winston was on his way down the slope after Alastor, and trotted after them. He could barely see where he was placing his feet, but seeing the soft, green glow in front of him let him know where Alastor was, at least.

The demon stopped at the bottom of the hill in front of what looked like a mud puddle. Andy wanted to ask him what was wrong when he heard what sounded like radio interference. It came from Alastor, Andy realised.

Winston backed away from the demon. Shadow spread across the ground, leaving everything darker than it had been a moment earlier. Andy grabbed onto his colleague when he almost backed into him. The touch made Winston jump.

The screeching stopped, followed by a low growl as Alastor stepped over the puddle. His shadows retracted, making them able to more or less see the trail, again.

“Come along,” Alastor said calmly.

Andy pushed Winston forwards and straight through the puddle. He didn’t know what was so problematic about it, and he decided not to ask given Alastor’s reaction to it. Instead, he focused on keeping Winston moving after the demon. He kept muttering that he wanted to go back, so Andy tried to reassure him to the best of his ability. After a while, he stepped past Winston and grabbed his hand, pulling him along instead. Surprisingly, that seemed to do the trick (after a small struggle of preventing his colleague from getting his hand free).

The demon continued to walk quietly down what had to be a game trail. He could barely see it, but at least he could see the silhouette of Alastor in front of him. It helped having him in the front, especially when he had to keep Winston under control, too. The man seemed to have accepted his fate and shuffled after him absentmindedly. Andy felt his hand sporadically tighten its hold whenever he lost his balance or stumbled in some roots hidden in the darkness, or when he slipped on the muddy ground.

Andy’s mind went back to the second car on the tractor path. He still couldn’t believe Pierce was the accomplice. It made no sense to him. The man had always been one of the guys who strived to do his job the best way he could. He could be a bit harsh sometimes, but the accomplice to a serial killer? Andy couldn’t believe it. It didn’t feel right.

Alastor stopped abruptly. Andy almost walked straight into him, but managed to stop just in time. The demon stood eerily still. His nose was pointed upwards. Andy had seen that before.

Alastor’s head turned slowly to his right. Andy swallowed thickly, keeping his eyes on him. This time, it didn’t swivel as far as it had when they’d found the body in the bayou. Instead, it stopped around 2 o’clock.

Alastor’s static came back. It built slowly, this time. It started low, almost like the air vibrated before it turned sharper. It crackled and sparked, making Andy wince. Winston backed up until Andy felt himself get turned around. His colleague pulled him with him a few, stumbling steps before Andy managed to stop him. The screeching continued, and when Andy chanced a glance over his shoulder, he swore the demon’s eyes had changed from their regular look to something that reminded him of radio dials. It was only for a moment. Alastor blinked and they were back to their regular, glowing selves.

“This way,” the demon growled, voice distorted with white noise. He stepped off of the game trail and headed straight ahead between the trees. Andy could still hear the static and started to wonder just how fucked they all were. At least he wasn’t on Alastor’s death list. He had a feeling he’d end up getting killed in the most horrendous way possible if he were.

Andy pulled a resisting Winston with him after the demon, feeling his shoes soak through immediately from the wet moss. His feet squelched in his shoes. Winston kept trying to rip his hand away, which didn’t help with Andy’s quickly building nerves.

“We’re gonna die,” Winston whispered. “We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die. We’re so gonna fucking die.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wince,” Andy hissed.

There was a crack, and suddenly, the two of them were faced with the glowing eyes of the Radio Demon. Andy couldn’t stop the dry heave at the sight of the man’s head facing backwards. The nausea came a lot quicker than he’d expected, actually, and hearing Winston let out a shriek didn’t help.

“You both need to shut up,” Alastor snapped. Andy clenched his jaw, trying to keep from actually throwing up. He tried to swallow it down, but it didn’t work. “You’re both announcing our position. If you want to stay alive, I implore you to be as quiet as you can.” Andy swore he could see the demon’s neck stretch towards them. His glowing eyes flickered back to radio dials and an unnaturally wide grin spread across his cheeks. Blood seeped out between his teeth. Andy and Winston leaned backwards. “If you don’t, I’ll have to get rid of you. Is that understood?”

Andy knew exactly what he meant by getting rid of them. Winston did, too. The two of them nodded frantically.

“Splendid,” the demon growled and let his head snap back into place and continued on as if nothing had happened.

Andy dry heaved a couple more times, pressing his hand over his mouth to try to stop it. It still didn’t work. He gulped and burped, swallowed and let himself breathe for a second, before he finally felt like he could keep walking. Winston’s hand was clutching his in what was essentially a death grip. Andy felt like he didn’t mind as they started making their way down a gentle slope. Alastor kept walking determinedly towards whatever it was that he’d smelled, and Andy felt Winston move closer to him.

Alastor glanced over towards the right, again, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to walk in that direction. That is, until he froze, eyes widening a smidge. Andy tried to see what it was he saw, but that dangerous grin spread across his face, again, as he changed direction. Andy hurried after him, continuing to drag Winston behind him.

The demon slowed down slightly. He raised one hand out to the side and moved it downwards towards the ground, signalling to the two detectives to crouch down. Andy and Winston lowered themselves a little, and made sure to try and move through the terrain without making a sound. The squelching from his shoes felt like they echoed through the trees.

Alastor used a finger to beckon them over to the left. Andy still couldn’t see where they were heading, other than towards a pretty huge tree trunk. He noticed the ground getting wetter the closer they got to it, but thankfully, it remained solid. The moonlight had started to peek through the crowns of the trees, reflecting in the water in what was apparently a swamp. It stretched far into the distance, and while Andy really didn’t want to get wetter than he already was, he trusted the demon enough to keep following him.

Andy heard something.

“Please, put the gun down,” someone said far in the distance. The voice echoed through the trees. It sounded familiar. “No one needs to get hurt.”

Alastor glanced over his shoulder at them as if to make sure that they were both being quiet. Andy gave him a quick nod. Alastor turned back to the task at hand, making Andy follow him around the tree and towards another one. He couldn’t hear the guy, anymore, and he still couldn’t see anyone. The demon veered to the left. Andy felt like the ground got firmer under his shoes, before it turned soft, again. He wrinkled his nose as they ended up sneaking into knee-deep water. Alastor moved slower than he had before, making sure that he didn’t splash. Andy followed suit, Winston behind him.

Something moved to his right, and he had to supress an urge to yelp at the sight of an alligator slowly making its way towards them. He hoped Winston didn’t see it.

“Al,” Andy hissed as quietly as he could. The demon slowed to a stop and turned his head to look at them. Andy pointed violently towards the reptile. Alastor’s eyes trailed over to it, before he smiled and waved at it. He lifted his hand and placed a finger over his mouth. The alligator paused in its approach, drifted a little closer, before it hissed quietly and ducked under the surface.

“Oh, shit,” Winston whined. Andy could feel him about to panic and immediately started to pull him closer to Alastor, who gave the two of them a quiet warning to continue to keep quiet. Andy knew the alligator wouldn’t bother them. Just like when Lucifer had asked another one to let them pass over it. Winston didn’t know that, and thus started to move slightly faster.

“Shh,” Andy shushed, pulling the man to a stop just to try and stop him from splashing.

Alastor sighed from up front. Andy felt like Winston was finally starting to listen. He followed Andy closely as they trailed behind the demon until they got to another, thick trunk. The water got shallower, and soon, they were up on relatively dry land, again. Alastor led them past another couple of trees, before he slowed down, again, and lowered himself so he walked close to the ground. Andy and Winston did the same.

Alastor lowered himself further, ending up crawling up a small hill. Andy had to let go of Winston to follow, but it seemed like his colleague was okay with it, this time. Andy still kept an eye on him as they moved. His hands sank into the moss and grass. He felt weirdly dangerous moving like that. An animal hunting his prey. He’d snuck up on people before, of course, but this felt like something else entirely. A quick glance at Alastor made him wonder if this is what he felt like when he hunted people back in the 30s. Stalking them through the bayou and letting them tire themselves out.

Andy wanted to say it was sick, but no. His mind came up with another word entirely.

Exhilarating.

Then, shortly after; exciting, thrilling…

Fun.

Fuck, Andy thought as he wormed his way up the hill. Alastor had stopped with his head poking over the side of the clearing they’d gotten to, a slight furrow to his brow as he watched whatever was going on. Andy stopped beside him and took in the sight of the two people standing there.

Pierce.

And Hensley.

That’s who Andy had heard. It had been Hensley’s voice. He’d apparently joined Pierce in Pierce’s car and went after the copycat for some reason. The two of them had ended up in the fucking bayou.

Both had their gun up and aimed at the other. A couple of flashlights lied in the grass, lighting up the scene, silhouetting the two men. A stand-off, Andy realised, between two of his closest friends.

“Oh, my god,” Winston mumbled as he got up to Alastor and Andy. “Oh, my fucking god,” he said louder, making Andy throw himself at him and slap his hand over his mouth, before he forced Winston a couple of feet back down the hill. He was struggling to keep him still. The man let out a quiet whimper before he stopped fighting against him. Andy waited another few seconds before he slowly let him go. He still had held around Winston, just in case he decided to keep talking, but the man swallowed thickly and deflated. Andy took that as him calming down, before he let go of him, properly, and shuffled back up the hill.

“I’m not putting my gun down, Dyl,” Pierce spat. “You know I can’t.”

Hensley said nothing, gun still trained on his colleague.

Andy glanced at Alastor, trying to figure out if they should intervene or wait and see what happened. Well, of course they had to intervene. The problem was that one of them was working with a serial killer, and the other was trying to stop him. Andy realised he had no idea which one of them was the accomplice.

“Which one?” Alastor asked, voice barely loud enough for Andy to catch it. The question caught him off-guard. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. One of them was probably the kindest man Andy had ever known, the other was his best friend.

“I—I don’t—” he cut himself off and ducked back down. Alastor did the same as Pierce’s head turned towards them. “Fuck,” Andy hissed, meeting Alastor’s eyes. They weren’t glowing, anymore, for obvious reasons. “Did he see us?”

Alastor never had the time to answer.

“What the fuck are you two doing?!”

Andy snapped his head around to look at where Winston had been. Had been? He turned back to Alastor. The two of them stared at each other before they hurried to crawl back up so they could peek over the top of the hill.

“Your friend isn’t very bright,” Alastor drawled, clearly not finding it necessary to keep whispering.

“You know, normally I would argue with you, but I kinda have to agree, right now,” Andy replied dryly.

The two of them glanced at each other before they got to their feet. Andy grabbed the gun from where it was nestled in the hem of his pants. The two of them hurried into the clearing after Winston, who had his own gun out and pointed at Pierce. The officer stared at him, blinking as if trying to understand why Winston was pointing a gun at him, while Hensley kept his aim pointedly at Pierce, too.

“What the fuck is going on?” Winston continued when none of their colleagues said anything. “Fucking tell me, or I swear to god, I’ll shoot.”

“You’re not going to shoot,” Andy snapped, making the three cops jump a little. Andy was just happy they were trained enough not to fire accidentally. He didn’t know who he should aim at, so he kept his gun pointed down. He kept himself in a position where all three of them would have to turn to aim at him, which gave him a slight advantage. He wanted Alastor to get behind him, but the demon didn’t seem too bothered by the firearms and instead placed himself right beside Andy with his hands behind his back like he was watching a horse race and not four policemen about to shoot each other. “Let’s just all calm down and we won’t have another person dead, tonight.”

“Oh, we’re so absolutely having another person dead, tonight,” Alastor corrected him quietly. It made Andy grimace, but he kept his eyes on the rest of them. “Or, well, I guess not tonight. I might keep him alive for a while so he understands the true meaning of my name.”

“Fuck, he’s dead?” Hensley croaked.

“Like you didn’t fucking know he would get killed, you piece of shit,” Pierce snapped, making Hensley wince. “This is all your fucking fault, so put your gun down and surrender.”

“Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!” Winston cried out. “I’m so not in the mood for this shit!” Pierce and Hensley continued to stare each other down. Then, Winston continued, which Andy probably should’ve stopped, because, damn, his next words weren’t good. “I got fucking kidnapped by a fucking demon, forced to go to a graveyard in the middle of the fucking night—and you guys know I hate graveyards, only to be covered in fucking birds—and you also know I hate those damned things, and then I have to fucking walk around in the fucking bayou with the fucking demon and fucking Greene—”

“Gee, thanks,” Andy found himself scoffing.

“—And then we almost got eaten by a fucking alligator, only to find you guys aiming at each other! So, fucking tell me, right now, what the fuck is going on!”

Pierce and Hensley blinked and lowered their guns a little, before they both turned to look at Andy and Alastor, who seemed quite amused by their reactions. Pierce mouthed, “demon?” making Andy press his lips into a thin line. His eyes snapped to Alastor, who grinned a little wider.

“Can we put away the guns, first?” Andy asked, seeing the three of them hesitate.

Pierce aimed at Hensley, again. “Dylan, first,” he replied.

Hensley stared at him for a moment, before he sighed. He put the safety back on and lowered the gun until it was on the ground. He tried to kick it away, but because of the uneven terrain, it got stuck in the moss just a couple of feet away from him.

“Now, you,” Winston told Pierce. The officer kept his eye on Hensley, before he, too, put the safety on. He tossed his gun over to Andy, who picked it up from the ground. It was more than enough to tell him Pierce was innocent.

Well, unless he’d done it just to mess with Andy’s head and make him trust him. That was also a possibility, and Andy felt the start of a headache as he placed one gun in his jacket pocket and the other one back in the hem of his jeans.

Winston turned to Hensley. “Move away from the gun,” he ordered, and Hensley lifted his hands and backed away. “Good,” he grumbled and moved over to the weapon. He picked it up and tossed it at Andy, who caught it with some difficulty. The flashlights on the ground fucked up his eyes after having moved around in the dark for so long.

“Can I have that one?” Alastor asked, holding his hand out expectantly. “I haven’t held a firearm in a long time,” he continued as if that would convince Andy to just give him a gun.

“Why?” Andy asked suspiciously.

“Because you have two already,” Alastor said. “And I’d like one.”

“No,” Andy huffed and put the gun in his other pocket. It felt a little ridiculous having that many guns on him. Alastor looked mildly disappointed, slowly moving his hand back behind his back. Andy let out a soft sigh and fished the gun back out of his pocket and handed it to the demon, who raised an eyebrow at him. “Here.”

“Really?” Alastor asked, a hopeful grin spreading across his cheeks.

“Ye—”

“Nope,” Winston said, snatching the gun out of Andy’s hand before he could give it to Alastor. “He’s not getting a gun. Jesus, Andy,” he hissed. “You can’t let a fucking demon have a fucking gun! Are you insane!?”

“I’m getting there,” Andy admitted, before he turned to the other two, who glanced between the three of them. “Now, why don’t you guys tell us what the fuck you’re doing out here.”

“He’s the fucking accomplice,” Pierce spat, pointing at Hensley. Andy expected the other to argue that he wasn’t, but the man just looked away in shame.

“Dylan?” Andy asked quietly. He still hoped the man would just come out and say that he didn’t have anything to do with the copycat or the murders they’d been having for the past three years. Hensley still didn’t say anything. He just shook his head and placed his hands on his hips.

Pierce continued to glare at the detective. “He brought me out to the cemetery earlier,” he explained. “Told me he needed to check something, only for Mr. Morn to show up. We stayed in the car, waiting for him to leave, again.”

“And then the copycat kidnapped my husband,” Alastor grumbled.

“Did you see who it was?” Andy asked Pierce, who once again glared at Hensley, as if telling him to say it. Andy turned to look at the man expectantly. Hensley didn’t say anything.

“Thomas Hen,” Pierce informed them.

“Doctor Hen?” Andy questioned. “Why the fuck would Thomas do any of this shit?”

“Why don’t you ask his fucking accomplice?” Pierce asked harshly.

“I didn’t know,” Hensley muttered.

“My fucking ass you didn’t know,” Pierce snapped and met Andy’s eyes. “This motherfucker knew exactly where the guy was heading. I tried to follow them, but I lost them after a few minutes, and then he suddenly just ‘realised’ where he was going.” The officer bristled where he stood. “Led me into the bayou like he fucking knew the place, refused to tell me how he knew where to go, and then we heard a couple of gunshots.”

Alastor tensed up. Andy almost didn’t notice, but the way the demon’s eyes flickered in the direction of where they’d been heading before he apparently heard their two colleagues made him wonder if maybe what had made him move off of the game trail was the smell of blood. His husband’s blood.

A low growl could be heard, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that Andy had started to get to know Alastor, he would’ve just thought it was one of the alligators in the swamp down the hill.

“Why don’t we keep this conversation going while we find my husband, shall we?” Alastor suggested, making the rest of them glance at him.

“You haven’t found him?” Pierce asked. “I thought you said he was dead?”

Alastor huffed. “Oh, I know he’s dead, but I’ve yet to find his body,” he replied and started moving towards the direction from where they’d come from. “I’d advice you to follow me, however. Unless you know where you are?”

The four cops gave each other a few glances. Andy sighed and started following him, while Winston nodded at Pierce and Hensley to walk in front of him. He still had one of the guns out, just in case one of them decided to do something. They couldn’t be sure about anything. Pierce could still be in on it, and while that was still a pretty troubling thought, the fact that Hensley seemed to be as remorseful as he was made him think that Pierce truly had questioned Hensley’s familiarity with the place and ended up calling him out for helping the copycat.

“Do turn off your flashlights,” Alastor added. The officer and the detective started to argue, but surprisingly, Winston was the one who shut them down. It seemed to come as a surprise to Alastor, too. He gave Winston an approving glance over his shoulder.

“So, what happened after the gunshots?” Andy asked as they started moving back down the small hill towards the water. Alastor was already on his way back into it, and Andy wondered if it would’ve been better to go around it. Alastor didn’t seem to care, of course, and this time he wasn’t as careful not to splash as he had the first time.

“We ended up running to see if we could find them, but we got lost on the way,” Pierce said and stepped closer to Andy while they waded through the water. “It was dark, and it sounded pretty far away. They must’ve moved before we got to them. Possibly in another direction.” Andy blinked a couple of times. He wished his vision could get used to the dark, again. He felt like he couldn’t see anything, and while he could still see Alastor better than the rest, the demon seemed to have dimmed down his own aura just to make the two new officers fail to notice it.

They made their way back up onto the other side of the water. Alastor sniffed the air and changed his direction slightly. Andy felt like they were moving out of the swampy area and to a place with more solid ground. They’d followed the edge of the swamp to get to Hensley and Pierce. Now, they just moved straight out and away from it.

“I kept asking him how he knew, but he refused to tell me,” Pierce continued. He cursed when he slipped on a wet root. “Fucking bayou,” he grumbled. “Anyway, we got to that clearing, and I remembered our talk about an accomplice,” he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I realised there was no fucking way he would know unless he knew who the copycat was, so I confronted him about it.”

“I didn’t know,” Hensley mumbled behind them, making Pierce glare at him. “I really didn’t.”

“Then how the fuck did you know where to look?” Pierce snapped.

“I just did,” Hensley answered quietly. “Look, I never meant to be an accomplice or an associate of the fucking copycat. I want to stop him, too,” he stated. Pierce and Winston let out doubtful hums. “I mean it,” Hensley tried. “Thomas is the fucking medical examiner. He asked me if I had some information about the old Bayou Killer, and I said I could get it for him. I thought he needed it for the reports.”

Andy thought back to the evidence he’d noticed was missing. Most of them were descriptions and some pictures of body parts and crime scenes. Then there was the one with the grave, which had included a detailed autopsy report on the bayou killer himself. A medical examiner would absolutely need to compare the bodies to the ones done by the original. It made sense except for the fact that Alastor’s autopsy was irrelevant to the rest of his murders.

“And you just decided to do that without logging it?” Andy asked as Alastor led them around another, smaller swamp. A couple of alligators hissed from the water. Pierce and Hensley glanced in their direction, and moved away from the noise. Winston seemed to have gotten more comfortable and didn’t even bat an eye at the animals. He’d grown up with them, Andy remembered.

Maybe he was the copycat after all? Was all three of them in on it? Winston being the copycat, Hensley the accomplice and Pierce trying to hide and mislead Andy from finding out about it?

Andy felt a slight discomfort knowing Winston was in the back holding a gun. He could just as well end up aiming it right at Andy, instead, if he wanted to. He could shoot them all in the back. Still, there was something that told him that Winston wasn’t the actual killer. He wasn’t the accomplice, either, most likely. Lucifer hadn’t thought so, at least.

“I didn’t think it mattered much, given who I was giving it to,” Hensley admitted. He shook his head. “I was an idiot. I kept asking for the documents back, but he never returned them. He always just had some stupid excuse, saying that he had to check this very grainy part of a picture to see if it matched the victim or something along those lines. It made sense when he said it,” Hensley continued to explain. The detective sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. He cleared his throat. “When we get out of here, I’ll turn myself in.”

“I’ll keep an eye on you, just in case,” Winston piped up from the back. “I’d rather you don’t end up running away on us.”

“I’m not going to,” Hensley assured him. “I made a mistake and I’m going to pay for it with my badge and most likely a nice trip to prison.”

Andy felt a bit bad for him. Hensley had always treasured his job. He was an excellent detective, too. He’d been on his way to become a sergeant, even. He’d been helping Andy with his cases since he started as a detective trainee. The guy was, as mentioned, one of the kindest people Andy knew. He could be naïve, at times, but he almost always gave people the benefit of the doubt. He was a person Andy had relied on heavily, on multiple occasions throughout his career. Knowing he’d ended up helping the copycat by giving him files the illegal way made his stomach churn.  

“Well then,” Pierce muttered, sounding like he’d didn’t believe him in the slightest. Well, Cameron was like that, most of the time. The moment someone broke his trust, there was no going back. Andy knew Hensley had been one of those people he trusted the most out of a lot of the people on the force. They’d been partners for years. Pierce had been Hensley’s go-to officer whenever he needed an extra hand, or wanted someone else to help him out with interviews or talking to family members. They were partners, even if they weren’t proper partners in the sense that they were police partners. Hensley’s true detective partner was Scott, but given her problems with her mother, he’d ended up bringing Pierce more into it.

“I’m sorry, Cameron,” Hensley said.

“I’m sure you are,” Pierce murmured, sounding more like he was talking to himself. “You still haven’t told us why you know this place.”

A silence fell over them. Hensley clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but given the circumstances, he didn’t have much of a choice. Alastor seemed to be more okay with them talking—at least for the time being, which meant it was a great opportunity to find out more about whatever had made Hensley end up as the damned accomplice in the first place. It was difficult to say if he’d truly not known or not. Not unless they could somehow get Lucifer to tell them once they found him (he had to be in the bayou, somewhere, and from how Alastor was moving in a very straight line through the thick trunks, he had a feeling the demon knew more or less where the devil was playing dead).

“Not going to tell us, are you?” Pierce spat after a few minutes of walking through a particularly squishy part of the bayou. Andy’s shoes kept getting stuck in the moss, and with the low temperatures (well, low for New Orleans in winter), his legs were starting to feel extra cold. The only good thing was that they were still moving. The strain of getting through the terrain when you didn’t see where you were putting your feet was pretty annoying, especially when you could more or less see the demon in front walk with confidence and zero-to-no problems. “Fucking thought so.”

“I just don’t know how to tell you,” Hensley replied. A certain desperation entered his voice. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say that doesn’t make this worse than it already is.”

“The truth usually works pretty well,” Winston shot in, making Hensley glance at him. “What do you have to lose?

“My entire life,” Hensley answered dryly. “My family, friends, work, freedom. I don’t know. I just don’t think I’ll be able to get out of this one, and right now, I really don’t feel like explaining myself.”

“You already said you were prepared to face the consequences,” Winston pointed out.

“And I am,” Hensley said. “I just don’t want it to be until I know where Thomas is. If I can bring him in, I might be able to at least not end up in prison.”

“It’s not going to help with your reputation, anyway,” Pierce said. “Might as well tell us.”

Hensley apparently decided to stop talking for a while. Pierce rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Winston sighed, and Andy decided to just go with the flow and focus on the task at hand, which was finding the serial killer, and hopefully Lucifer, too.

It all made a lot more sense, now that he thought about it. Alastor had literally told the copycat about his shitty work to his face, and then the copycat had seen his husband dig up the original killer. This was revenge. Revenge for telling him that he wasn’t good enough and that he was essentially dragging Alastor’s name and reputation through the mud. Andy had a feeling the man wouldn’t try and mess with Alastor if he knew he was the real Bayou Killer. He’d probably even try and do better (which wasn’t good, of course). But no. Alastor had presented himself as someone else, and the copycat most likely saw him as some outsider who didn’t know what he was talking about.

So, he kidnapped his husband and most likely intended to harm him to get back at him for his words, to prove that he wasn’t someone to mess with. The problem was just that Alastor and Lucifer weren’t humans. They were both demons, and one of them was the devil himself. It could only end with bloodshed.

Alastor slowed to a stop. The rest of them did the same and watched the demon crouch down. He picked up a piece of moss from the ground and sniffed it. Winston looked on-guard, regarding the demon with a suspicious glare, while the other two looked mildly confused about what he was doing.

Another growl escaped the Radio Demon. He dropped the mud and stood back up, before he turned and walked in another direction. More static filled the air. Andy had a feeling he was pushing it down as much as he could, even if it was still audible. It made Hensley and Pierce hesitate to follow, but a grumble from Winston made them both start to move.

Pierce hurried up beside Andy. He leaned in a little. “What the fuck was that?” he whispered. Andy felt his eyes lock onto Alastor’s neck just in case he decided to turn his head all the way around, again. He had a feeling the demon was still listening in to their conversation.

“He’s a demon,” Andy said bluntly. He saw Alastor’s hands clench where they rested behind his back.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Andy grumbled.

“Have you completely lost it?” Pierce asked, making Andy sigh. “I thought Winston was just freaking out?”

“Nope,” Andy said.

Alastor turned around and walked backwards, much like how Andy had seen Lucifer do. It was strange, especially when you felt like he’d end up stumbling in the dark. He never lost his footing, and just looked at the four of them like he was getting more and more annoyed.

“Don’t worry about it, Officer Pierce,” Alastor said with a tilt of his head. Andy noticed that his eyes still looked normal. He guessed he wanted Pierce and Hensley not to freak out, which was either very considerate of him, or, more likely, he wanted a certain shock factor. “I’m what you would call a criminal. I’m sure that’s what your colleagues are referring to.”

“Then what the fuck was that screeching?” Pierce questioned, making Alastor tilt his head. “It sounded like a fucking radio or something.”

“It was a deer,” Alastor said. Andy pursed his lips to keep from snorting. It was a deer, alright. One walking on two legs and who had a scratchy voice that sounded like it had been taken right out of a radio. “There are a lot of them out here.”

“So, what did you do, then? If they’re calling you a demon, you have to have done something terrible,” Pierce continued to ask.

“You do like asking questions, officer,” Alastor drawled as he turned back around. “I’m surprised you didn’t try becoming a detective.”

Pierce stared at him, before he turned to Andy. “What did he do?”

Andy wished the demon would just tell them to shut up again so he wouldn’t have to explain that he’d ended up bringing a serial killer in to help solve a case about another serial killer. Or, even better, tell Pierce that he’d summoned a demon, who summoned his husband (the devil), who then wanted to join in on solving a case ‘the human way’ which had apparently ended up just becoming some stupid thing where the devil’s husband had pissed off the serial killer so much that he’d ended up kidnapping the devil himself.

“Hey, Al?” Andy said, seeing Alastor turn his head enough to let Andy know he was listening. “I was just wondering…” he trailed off, letting his voice turn sly. He could more or less see Alastor’s eyes narrow in the dark. His eyesight had gotten more used to the poor light it seemed. Awesome. “If you kill Thomas—” he heard Hensley suck in a sharp breath, but brushed it off as him reacting to the fact that Alastor was going to kill the guy they were supposed to arrest, “—don’t you think he’s going to brag to everyone in Hell that he kidnapped Lucifer?”

Alastor stopped walking.

“Andy!” Winston snapped in disbelief from the back of the group.

Andy didn’t know why he’d said it, either, but he had, and there was no taking it back. It was actually just a genuine question that he wondered about, but like, he’d realised how it sounded while he said it, and if it got Pierce to stop asking Andy questions that he couldn’t or didn’t want to answer, then that for sure made it worth it. Also, he wasn’t that scared of Alastor, anymore. Strangely enough, after the dinner, he almost felt like they’d become his adoptive parents, almost.  

A dark chuckle bubbled from Alastor’s throat as he turned to look at Andy. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, detective,” he said. “I certainly don’t. My husband is pretty good at making people disappear when he wants to.” His grin spread across his face as he stepped closer to Andy. It was a scare tactic, and it did make Andy’s heart beat a little faster in his chest. He stood his ground, even when Alastor towered over him with that dangerous grin on his face that told Andy that he wanted nothing more than to kill him. He could do it, too. Andy wouldn’t stand a chance. “Be careful what you say, detective,” Alastor whispered at him. “It could happen to you, too.”

“Doubt it,” Andy whispered back. “Lucifer likes me too much.” And Alastor, too, actually, even if the guy would never admit it. There was just something about being shown around their house and bonding over jazz and gumbo that made it particularly difficult not to bond with someone.

Alastor’s grin turned more genuine for some reason, making Andy smile back at him. The demon shook his head exasperatedly and leaned out of Andy’s personal space.

“I guess he would be quite sad about it. He finds you amusing for whatever reason,” he huffed with a wave of his hand. “Maybe he’ll end up keeping you around as a court jester,” he added as he started walking, again.

“Oh, come on,” Andy scoffed.

The demon snickered, but didn’t say anything else. The rest of them stared at them, like they couldn’t quite comprehend what the fuck they’d just witnessed. Andy just shrugged and followed Alastor between a few bushes. He felt like he’d gotten the demon in a slightly better mood than he had been, at least.

The group slowly started moving, again. They’d been walking for a while, and Andy was starting to feel it. He’d barely gotten any sleep, and the terrain wasn’t the easiest to traverse. Continuously having to pull his feet free from the damned mud and moss got tiring after about an hour of moving aimlessly around the bayou. Hensley, Pierce and Winston started to seem worried about where they were heading, too. Andy had no idea where they were, and he knew that if Alastor suddenly vanished, he wouldn’t know how to get out of there. He’d end up as the guy who was just minutes away from finding civilisation they’d found yesterday.

Still, none of them dared complain, and while Hensley decided to avoid talking about why he knew the place, the rest of them seemed to decide to keep their mouths shut, too. Alastor barely said a word other than when he told them to be careful. A couple of alligators had been lying around in some shallow puddle, which the demon had mentioned seconds away from letting Pierce walking right into them. It seemed like the other two cops started to question how Alastor seemed like he could see everything in the dark, even when their own eyes had gotten pretty used to it. It had taken slightly more than an hour after they left the clearing before Andy felt like he could walk relatively steady, at least.

After what seemed like a short eternity, Alastor slowed down, again. The demon’s head tilted backwards, and Andy once again knew he was smelling something. He scented the air, turning his head slowly until he seemed to lock onto whatever it was. He snarled and walked forwards, making the rest of them hurry after him. Andy could hear the other three swear as they stumbled forward. Andy stumbled himself while he tried to keep up with Alastor’s long legs. The demon had definitely found something.

Andy watched him hurry over a mound and disappear from view. A moment later, he heard the most unholy shriek he’d ever heard in his life. Whatever he’d heard from him earlier couldn’t even compare. It made all four of them stop in their tracks and slam their hands over their ears. The scream echoed through the trees, making birds scatter and screech. It sounded like someone was about to blow up a speaker, especially when the sound seemed to crackle and pop around them.

Andy hurried onto the mound, pressing his shoulder against his ear so he could use his other hand to help crawl up the slope. He stopped at the top, returning his hand to his ear as he watched the demon stand over something on the ground. Shadows flickered around him and Andy grimaced at the sight of it. He’d been pulled around by those damned tentacles.

Andy was about to move down the slope when he felt himself fall. Not down the hill, but into the earth below his feet. It felt like jumping into a lake while it was just about cold enough to make you question if you should’ve jumped into it in the first place.

He’d felt it before. He’d felt it when he’d been about to be hit by a car. He’d been in that dark place, before, but then he’d had his eyes closed. He wished he’d had his eyes closed this time, too, so he wouldn’t end up seeing teeth—so many fucking teeth, hunger, creatures, eyes and a void so dark nothing could escape from it.

It took less than a second before he was spat back up so forcefully that he didn’t have a single chance to catch himself as his feet finally hit the ground. He slammed into the grass with a yelp, bracing himself. He felt water soak through the knees on his jeans and the cuffs on his jacket. It was cold enough to make him groan. It also smelled disgusting, like an overwhelming scent of iron and sulphur.

Combined with the disorientation from being at the top of the mound one moment, and down by another swampy area the next (and the flashes of teeth, eyes, darkness, creatures, hunger—), his stomach churned. He heaved, panting through gritted teeth to push down the urge to throw up.

“Oh, pull yourself together, detective,” Alastor scoffed and grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him back up onto his feet. Andy wanted to tell him that he could go fuck himself, but managed to get his feet under him and to reorient himself enough to actually keep himself up on his own. “Look at what that idiot did to my husband,” Alastor continued-

-and shoved a severed arm right into his face.

Andy turned around and threw up.

“Really?” Alastor drawled, sounding more unimpressed than Andy had ever heard him before. “It’s just a severed arm.”

Andy tried to talk but was interrupted by another round of hurling. He spat down into the puddle of puke, waiting for another few seconds just to calm his troubled stomach. He could hear the rest of them making their way down the mound.

“Andy!” Hensley exclaimed and hurried over to him. He felt the detective’s hand on his back. “Fucking Christ, Andy,” he continued, looking like he tried to keep his feet away from the little puddle. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Andy pressed out.

“Shit,” Hensley muttered. “Did you fall? Did you hit your head? Do you have a concussion? Do you need to go to the ER—there’s no way we can get you to the ER, right now—”

“No, I’m fine,” Andy waved him off. “I’m completely, fucking fine,” he continued, spitting again. He coughed and was about to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand when he smelled the same iron/sulphur scent. It made him heave, again, but at least nothing more came up.

“Yeah, I think you might want to wash your hands,” Alastor muttered from where he stood, still holding the severed arm of his husband.

Winston and Pierce’s eyes flickered from the arm and over to Alastor. Pierce looked particularly concerned about what the fuck they’d just witnessed. The scream had been one of pure rage.

“What the fuck,” Pierce breathed.

“Demon,” Winston whispered, and for once, Pierce actually looked like he believed him.

Hensley glanced at the two of them, before he turned back to Andy. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he muttered and led Andy over to the water. Andy tried to tell him he was fine, but he realised it wasn’t just water that had soaked into his clothes. It was also blood. Demonic blood, actually. Or was it angelic? He didn’t know. It smelled rancid, at least, and he needed to get it off of his hands as soon as fucking possible.

He’d almost wiped it all over his face, too. Damn, that was a disgusting thought. It almost made him want to throw up, again.

He pushed the thought away and crouched down. He rinsed his hands and tried to rub it off of his skin and his sleeves. He felt like he wasn’t actually able to get it off, but getting some of it off was better than nothing. Hensley stood beside him, waiting for him to finish. When he felt like he wouldn’t be able to get any cleaner, he splashed his face for good measure, stood and turned to see Alastor stand there with the severed arm. It had been severed by the elbow, Andy noted.

His stomach still struggled at the sight of it, but it felt more manageable.

He took a deep breath and stepped over to Alastor. The demon furrowed his brow, eyes scanning him like he was trying to figure out if Andy would end up throwing up, again. When he seemed to realise Andy was able to keep it down, this time, he showed Andy the arm, again.

“Look,” he told Andy, who swallowed down the nausea and took a closer look at the arm.

“I’m really sorry,” Hensley murmured from where he stood a few feet behind him. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m responsible for this. For all of it.” He shook his head. “I know I can’t bring him back—”

“The bastard couldn’t even cut his arm off correctly,” Alastor said like he hadn’t heard a word of what Hensley had said. “I mean, it’s slightly better. At least he took his time while cutting it up, this time.”

“That’s a really jagged cut, yeah,” Andy said, leaning slightly closer. He squinted to try and see it better, but it was still too dark. The rest of them were staring at them like they’d lost their minds completely. Andy didn’t really think too much of it.

“I know,” Alastor grumbled. “He’s going to pay for this. Really! I literally told him he wasn’t doing a good enough job, and then he does this?” Alastor gestured to the dripping limb. “To my husband? The nerve. When I get my hands on him, he’ll regret ever trying to copy me.”

“The fucking audacity,” Andy agreed, placing his hands on his hips.

“Right?!” Alastor spat. He shook his head, looking like he didn’t really know what to do with the arm. “Now, where’s the rest of him…” he muttered, before his eyes landed on Hensley, and snapped down to something behind him. “You might want to step a little farther away from the water,” he said.

“What—”

Hensley didn’t get to say anything else before something leapt forwards and snapped around his legs. Hensley fell with a grunt and started cried out as something pulled him backwards. It took Andy a second to realise what just happened, only for him to throw himself after the detective.

Hensley screamed as the alligator pulled him with him halfway into the water. Andy managed to get a hold of his hands, but he didn’t stand a chance against the huge reptile. He cried out, feeling Pierce and Winston latching onto him. They tried to stop the alligator from dragging the struggling Hensley farther into the water, but the grip it had on his legs would be enough to crush them.

The alligator looked like it was about to roll.

The three of them froze.

“Could you please let him go?” Alastor asked the alligator calmly as he stepped up beside the four of them. Hensley was choking out pained cries. Andy felt his hands start to slip. Winston and Pierce were both trying their best to hold onto him. “I’ll give you this to hold onto, instead,” Alastor offered, waving the severed arm in front of the animal.

It let go. The sudden lack of something pulling in the other direction sent the four of them tumbling onto the ground. Andy grunted as he landed on top of Pierce and Winston. Hensley was writhing in pain. He curled up around his legs, letting go of Andy, who quickly got up from where he’d been lying on top of the others. He got his flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on, wincing at the bright light. Pierce and Winston were quick to help, Pierce holding the detective’s upper body so Winston and Andy could check out the damage.

“Here you go,” Andy heard Alastor say. He glanced up just in time to see the demon throw the arm into the water like he was tossing a bone to a dog. The alligator leaped up from the water and grabbed the arm out of the air. “Don’t chew on it too much. I need it back.” The alligator growled, backed off and sank down under the surface. Alastor hummed and turned to the rest of them. “How’s he doing?” he asked as he stepped over to them.

“He almost got fucking eaten by a damned gator,” Winston snapped and stared up at the demon. “How do you think he’s doing?”

Alastor let out another hum and shrugged, much to Winston’s irritation, it seemed. “Worse things can happen to people,” he said.

“You’re fucking sick,” Winston growled, making Alastor snicker.

“How bad is it?” Pierce asked Andy, who still hadn’t really had the opportunity to check out their colleague’s legs.

“Not great,” Andy said once he saw the blood seeping through Hensley’s pants. There was a lot of it. “Not great at all,” he continued, trying to figure out what to do.

“Let me,” Alastor muttered and crouched down beside him. Winston begrudgingly gave him some space and let him take a look. Andy held the flashlight up, forgetting that Alastor most likely wouldn’t have a single problem seeing without it. “That’s some damage, yes,” he huffed, poking Hensley’s leg. It looked like it was severely crushed. The fabric of his pants had been shredded.  

“Can you heal it?” Andy asked, remembering how Lucifer had healed his hand when he’d cut open his palm while he’d tried to summon them.

Alastor glanced at him. “I’m not much of a healer,” he admitted before looked back at the water. “But Lucifer is.” He got up and strolled over to the water, again. Andy could see him tapping the snake on his finger. The water bubbled, and soon, the same alligator came back. “Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, my friend,” Alastor told the animal. “You’ll get it back in a moment.”

The alligator let out another growl, but let go of the arm. Alastor picked it up and brought it back over to the four of them. He crouched back down between Andy and Winston, before he glanced at the panting Hensley, whose eyes were wide and staring at the demon, looking terrified.

“This might hurt,” Alastor warned him, before he patted Lucifer’s severed arm. The hand was still attached, and the moment it felt the pats, the fingers started moving. They curled in a sort of waving motion, before they settled in a thumbs-up posture. Alastor chortled and placed the hand down on Hensley’s leg.

The moment the hand got into contact with Hensley’s leg, an almost blinding light flashed. Andy winced and squeezed his eyes shut. Phantom pain ached in his palm. He knew what it felt like to be healed by the devil, and it wasn’t pleasant.

Hensley cried out at the pain. He grabbed onto Pierce, who held on to him for dare life, staring in complete shock at what was going on in front of his eyes. If he hadn’t thought he was dealing with supernatural powers, before, he certainly knew it, now. He looked pale in the golden light as his eyes jumped between the severed arm and the demon holding it with a smile on his face like it was a regular Thursday.

Alastor started humming a little tune as he let the hand slide down Hensley’s legs. The man continued to let out cries of pure agony. They mixed with the sound of bones snapping back into place, which pretty much made Andy’s nausea come back with a vengeance. He swallowed it down, however, and tried his best to focus on holding Hensley still.

“You’re almost done, Dylan,” he assured his colleague, who didn’t seem to hear him. Alastor glanced at him, but kept going, making sure to do the other leg as well. Winston stared at the hand, like he, too, had trouble comprehending what the fuck was going on, and how it worked. “Just the ankle left,” Andy informed Hensley.

“At least it didn’t go into a death roll,” Alastor said as the ankle cracked back to the right angle. “There we go. Good as new, right darling?” Alastor asked the hand, tapping the skin on the severed arm in quick succession. Andy realised they were using morse code, which was another thing he would probably end up lying awake at night thinking about. The hand once again gave them a thumbs-up. Alastor got up and tossed the arm back to the alligator wating patiently by the edge of the water. It grabbed the arm immediately and went back under the surface.

“How’re the legs?” Andy asked Hensley. The detective continued to pant with his eyes squeezed shut. He scrunched his brow and carefully opened his eyes, glancing down at himself. It looked pretty grotesque with the blood, but from what Andy could see, there was no broken skin below it.

“I—what?” Hensley rasped, getting out of Pierce’s hold. He grabbed his legs hesitantly, patting them down like he expected it to hurt. “What the fuck?”

“Demons,” Winston choked out.

Andy huffed. “Just the devil,” he said, making Pierce and Hensley’s eyes snap to him. They looked at him like he’d grown a second head, before they turned to look at Alastor, who stood behind Andy with his hands behind his back, again. “Seems you’re not in pain, at least,” he muttered to Hensley.

“What the fuck,” Pierce whispered.

“I—you…” Hensley took over. “Demons are real?” he asked. Alastor grinned down at him, letting his eyes flare red. The sight made both Hensley and Pierce jump and shuffle away from him. Winston looked pretty much unfazed by it.

“No one listens to Wince,” Winston muttered and got to his feet. “’It’s not a demon,’” he said mockingly. “’It’s not the Bayou Killer. It’s just a guy with the same name as him,’” he continued, making Andy roll his eyes.

“Shut up,” he grumbled and stood.

“The Bayou Killer?” Hensley breathed.

“In the demonic flesh,” Alastor exclaimed happily. “Now that we’ve established that, I’d like to talk to that accomplice of yours.”

“…How…?” Hensley asked, clearly referring to how Alastor was the literal Bayou Killer, and not the fact that he wanted to murder his own copycat. “That’s not… That’s not possible. It can’t be him!”

“It’s literally the guy in the pics,” Andy huffed. “You’ve seen those old newspaper pictures, too, right?”

“He’s a demon?” Hensley questioned, eyes still plastered to Alastor, who seemed to get more and more impatient the longer he had to wait for them to get over the shock. Andy almost said he felt a bit of sympathy for the guy, mostly because he’d had to deal with two shocked people, already, and now he had more to deal with. “An actual demon?”

“Well, I was human, once, but we won’t get into that, now, will we?” Alastor drawled. “I’m a demon, yes. The Radio Demon. Formerly the serial killer known as the Bayou Killer, as you call me. Currently having a copycat to kill, which is why I’d very much like to get a move on.” He smiled pleasantly, but it came across as mean. “So, if you don’t mind postponing the shock until after I’ve dealt with him, I’d be forever grateful.”

Hensley met Andy’s eyes, a dumbfounded expression on his face as he uttered, “Did you say his husband is the literal devil?”

“And we’re not done apparently,” Alastor murmured with a heavy sigh.

“The devil?” Hensley exclaimed.

“Yup,” Winston joined in. “Andy, here, decided it would be a fucking fantastic idea to summon the devil—”

“I already said I didn’t know it would work,” Andy bit out. “And I didn’t summon the devil. I summoned him—” He waved at Alastor, who raised an eyebrow. “—And then he summoned his husband who’s apparently the fucking devil. I don’t fucking know.”

“I just thought his parents hated him and decided to call him ‘Lucifer,’” Pierce muttered quietly.

“Nope, just the literal devil,” Andy replied, putting his hands back in his pockets. He felt like he wanted to get going, too, actually. This was all old news, at this point. He realised how irritating he’d been himself while he was dealing with the shock of accidentally summoning a demon. “Not to be confused with Satan,” he added, which only made the other two frown in confusion. “He’s very particular about that part, apparently.”

“Well, I don’t think you’d enjoy being compared to a gigantic, angry lizard, either, would you?” Alastor said.

Andy pursed his lips. “Point taken.”

“Are we over the worst of it, now?” Alastor inquired and tilted his head.

Andy held out his hand to help Hensley to his feet. The detective stared at his hand. He hesitantly reached out and grabbed it, letting Andy pull him to his feet. Andy patted his shoulder, steadying him while he tested out his legs. Winston helped Pierce in the meantime, who kept his eyes on Alastor. Andy knew Pierce was the one the two of them had been messing with the most when it came to hiding who they were. Especially that thing Lucifer did where he could more or less convince anyone about anything just by telling them something. They’d done it to Pierce a few times already, and that was just the few times Andy knew about.

“Let’s go,” Alastor said the moment they were all back on their feet.

Andy turned off his flashlight, bathing them all in darkness, again. Still, it looked like it was getting slightly lighter than it had been when they first got into the bayou. The moon still glimmered above them, reflection sparkling in the water of the new, swampy area they were about to go past or around. He didn’t know where the demon wanted to bring them. He’d clearly found his husband, which meant they only needed to find the copycat.

“Let’s get one thing clear, actually,” Alastor continued, pausing in his step. He turned around to face them where they’d ended up walking in a line behind him. “If I tell you to be quiet, be as quiet as you can. If I tell you to stand still, you are not to move from your spot, or else you might get killed. Do exactly as I say, when I say it. Understood?” The four of them nodded hesitantly, but Alastor seemed okay with that, so he smiled at them. “Great. Now, the doctor is most likely around here, somewhere, so do be quiet. Follow my lead.”

“Yup,” Andy said.

The group started walking through the bayou, again, following the edge of the swamp. Andy glanced over his shoulder at the place where he’d almost lost one of his colleagues. He met Pierce’s eyes. He couldn’t see much, but they were still wide with shock. He wanted to help him out. The man was probably even more logical than what Andy had been when he first met the demons. Andy had been hit with a bunch of existential crises after the first one, and while none of them hit him as hard as the first, he still knew exactly what both Pierce and Hensley were going through.

Andy tried to give his friend a smile, but Pierce just furrowed his brow in concern, which Andy could absolutely understand. He shrugged and grinned sheepishly, before he once again turned to see where he was going. He saw Alastor walk slightly more carefully this time. It made it easier to follow, especially since he once again struggled with his vision.

The demon led them slightly away from the swamp. The ground got easier to walk on. Andy felt himself relax. His heart still pounded in his chest, and his initial adrenaline kick from having to throw himself after Hensley had died down enough that he only felt like he was running on caffeine. He put his hands back in his pockets, feeling the gun in one of them. He made sure the safety was still on.

“How did you know it was Thomas?” Andy asked Alastor quietly.

Alastor hummed. “I smelled it on him,” he replied darkly. He grinned. “That chicken sandwich wasn’t chicken, if you know what I mean?”

Andy almost wanted to throw up again. “He was eating…?”

“Yes, he was absolutely enjoying a human-meat sandwich while being surrounded by his colleagues,” Alastor confirmed. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, and Andy wondered if he was actually tracking the doctor. “Probably such a thrill. I’d never do that, however.” He sounded grumpy about it, which made Andy wonder if that was another thing that didn’t fit with Alastor’s M.O., or if it was because he was annoyed he hadn’t come up with it himself.

“Jesus,” Andy muttered.

Alastor turned back to tracking the man they were trying to find, leaving Andy to once again try and wrap his mind around everything. There was just so much of it. Thomas Hen was the copycat killer, and Hensley had given him information unknowingly—well, he’d known he’d given him information, but not what the man had done with it. And how the fuck had Hensley known where to look for them? How had he known the doctor would bring Lucifer to this, exact part of the bayou? To that exact tractor path?

Was it even a game trail, or was it just an overgrown path that had been leading to somewhere else?

Andy didn’t know. He hoped he would find out sooner or later, at the very least. If they got out of this alive, and Hensley was willing to talk, he’d most likely try and ask him about it. He needed to know. He’d been stuck on this case for so long and now he had the opportunity to actually figure out everything. They’d found the accomplice, they’d found out who the copycat was, and it was all because of Andy summoning a fucking demon. Had he known, he would’ve summoned them years ago.

They ended up walking on top of an elevated part of the terrain. The swamp was still down to their left as they moved, and the longer they walked the brighter it got. Andy felt like he could actually see more details. It was still dark, absolutely, but sometimes he felt like he could actually make out things in the distance.

Hensley and Pierce seemed to get over the worst of their shock after a while, even if they still ended up muttering to each other and to Winston. Andy paid them no mind as he followed Alastor down on the other side of the ridge. He could see another body of water meeting the one they’d been following, creating a narrow passage between the two of them.

Alastor stopped in his tracks. Andy froze. The tree others tried to ask what was going on. Alastor shushed them and crouched down. Andy did the same, shuffling forwards until he was sitting beside the demon. Alastor pointed to the winding passage between the two swamps. Andy squinted, trying to spot whatever it was that he was pointing to.

“Do you see him?” Alastor whispered.

Andy shook his head. “No,” he muttered.

“He’s wandering behind the trees where the swamps turn off to the left.”

Andy continued to squint. Movement between the trees Alastor had pointed to made his eyes widen. He did see the guy. He was pretty far away from them. Just a small dot in the distance, but with the elevated terrain, he could see him well enough.

“I see him,” Andy informed him. Alastor grinned approvingly. “What do we do?”

“Well, I’ll give him a bit of a show before I kill him,” Alastor said, eyes flashing red. “He needs to see all he did wrong.”

“You’re not seriously going to kill him?” Hensley hissed from behind them. The two of them turned to look at him.  

“He’s killing him,” Andy said, nodding at the demon beside him. “It’s part of our deal.” It wasn’t, but it felt better to lie about it than say he knew he had no chance to stop it. Alastor chuckled, knowing it was a lie.

Hensley stared at him. “He’s not—you can’t just—why?”

“Because I want him to know how to kill people properly,” Alastor informed the detective. “The best way to learn is by example, isn’t it?”

Hensley blinked at him. “No, it’s not.”

“It’s test-retest,” Andy said, making Alastor glance at him. “You know, testing yourself over and over.” Why the fuck was he indulging this? Why was he adding to it? Why did he enjoy it? Andy had lost his sanity, for sure. He was never going to get it back, either, so why not lean into it?

Alastor snickered. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. We want him to know how to do it in his sleep, don’t we?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Hensley snapped.

“Shush,” Alastor huffed. “He might hear us. The trees carry the sound.”

Hensley ignored him. “You’re not fucking killing him.”

“As if you could stop me,” Alastor scoffed. “Now, let’s go. I want my husband back.”

With that, Alastor turned his back on Hensley and started crouch-walking down the hill towards the swamps. Andy gave Hensley an apologetic look before he followed. He could hear the other three hesitate to join, but soon enough they shuffled after them. Andy kept his eye on Alastor, who seemed completely locked onto the man in the distance.

They snuck down to the swamps. Alastor’s grin got wider and sharper the closer they got to his target. They made their way around a few trees and puddles. Andy wondered why the man wasn’t really walking anywhere. It looked like he was pacing back and forth.

“Andy,” Hensley whispered from behind him. “Andy, you can’t let him kill him. You can’t.”

“I can’t stop him,” Andy whispered back. “This is personal for him.”

“It’s fucking personal for me, too,” Hensley hissed, making Andy frown. The detective seemed to realise what he’d said. “Just, I can’t let him get killed. Please, Andy.”

Andy stared at him. “I literally can’t stop him,” he repeated.

Hensley grimaced and looked over to Alastor, who gave them a knowing glance as he kept moving through the swamp. They made their way around another tree. The ground was slippery with mud, and Andy had to steady himself against the trunk to keep himself from losing his footing. The bark scratched his palm as he moved over one of the roots. Alastor slowed down further and stopped. They’d gotten to the passage between the swamps, and Andy could now see the doctor walk around like he didn’t know where to go. He’d ended up standing in the middle of the passage, hand running through his hair and shoulders hunched.

He was lost, Andy thought as he watched the man. The medical examiner let out an annoyed yell, before he started moving again, as if trying to figure out where to go. He took a few steps, turned, walked back, moved closer to where the five of them were hiding, turned, moved the other way, stopped.

Thomas cursed loudly where he stood. Alastor grinned menacingly as he once again started to move. Andy followed quietly, making sure to put his feet down in places that seemed like they wouldn’t end up with him falling. It was a steep and slippery bank down to the flat area of the swamp. He had to be careful where he stepped. He gripped the grassy edges of the steep and carefully lowered himself down. It made him use more time, so when he looked back up, he noticed that Alastor had gotten pretty far away from the rest of them.

He hurried to catch up until he saw Alastor’s hand gesture for him to keep his distance. Andy wanted to know why, but he slowed down. He watched Alastor straighten his back, clearly done hiding as he dusted off his coat, straightened his lapels and cuffs, and brushed a hand through his hair. He was making himself look more representable in comparison to how the medical examiner looked.

Thomas looked like he was covered in blood, which wasn’t surprising if he’d been spending his time killing Lucifer and cutting him up into pieces. His clothes looked ragged, and his body language seemed frantic and desperate.

Image between an old serial killer and a new one. Alastor valued looking presentable. Thomas wanted nothing more than to get out of the bayou.

The Bayou Killer walked silently. Andy couldn’t hear him even if he was pretty close to him. Thomas hadn’t spotted any of them, yet. His back was turned to them.

“Fuck!” the guy screamed. “Fucking piece of shit!”

“Are you lost?” Alastor asked conversationally, making the man spin on his heels to look at him.

“What the fuck?” Doctor Hen hissed. “Who the fuck are you?”

Alastor chuckled darkly. “Don’t you remember me? You met me a few days ago.” He took a step closer.

Thomas’ eyes widened. “The descendant,” he muttered.

“Yes,” Alastor said.

“The one who—what the fuck are you doing here?” the man demanded. “Did you follow me? How did you find me?”

“Now, Mr. Hen,” Alastor tutted. “That’s not what’s important here. You’re the copycat killer, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hen spat. “Why would I want to kill anyone?”

Alastor tilted his head. “We all have our reasons.” He placed his hands behind his back. “For me? Well, for me it’s always been the thrill of hearing them scream. I already told you about that, didn’t I, doctor?” Hen frowned and took a step back. “I told you how I love cutting them up while they’re still alive and kicking. Oh, their pain is like music to my ears.” He giggled to himself and took a step closer to the doctor. “And I guess I told you about how I didn’t approve of your cuts, did I? Amateurish, I must say.” Hen swallowed thickly. “You didn’t like hearing me say that, did you?”

“What the fuck?” Hen rasped, taking another step back.

“You decided to make me pay for critiquing your work by going after my husband, is that it?” Alastor asked. “You wanted to show me that you could cut him up properly? Feed him to the alligators?”

“I’ve never killed anyone—” Hen tried, but Alastor cut him off with another, deranged giggle.

“No need to lie, Doctor Hen,” Alastor said, voice distorted by static. “I smelled it on your breath.”

Hen stumbled backwards and fell. Andy didn’t need to know what had happened. Alastor’s voice was barely recognizable as anything human. Andy could see his shadow stretch forwards until it covered Thomas. Alastor continued to cackle—well, it sounded more like crackling at this point. His head tilted with a crack.

“What the fuck are you?!” the medical examiner cried as he crawled backwards.

“Me?” Alastor asked. “Oh, I think you know. I think the better question is who am I, Doctor Hen? Who could I possibly be?”

The man’s eyes widened further. “The Bayou Killer,” he whispered in awe. “You—you’re him. You’re really him?” He shook his head. “No, that’s not possible. You’re not him. You can’t be him. He died a hundred years ago!”

“It’s me, alright,” Alastor assured him. “Don’t you recognise me? I got shot right in the head and woke up in Hell.” He tilted his head the other way and stalked forwards. “This is what I looked like, back then. I was about to bury a friend of mine, actually, when that hunter mistook me for a deer. I’ve been a deer ever since.”

Lightning struck overhead, making all of them jump. Andy could’ve sworn he saw Alastor’s true form just while it flashed. A moment later, rain started falling down over them. Hadn’t it been clear a moment ago?

“I—You—What are you—” Hen stammered, trying and failing at figuring out how to react. Alastor didn’t seem to care.

“You know what? I was actually looking forward to seeing your work,” he said. “When the detective summoned me. I thought you were going to honour what I did.” Alastor grinned wider. “Imagine my surprise when I saw your absolutely horrid attempt at recreating what I do.”

Hen continued to stutter. “I—I didn’t have enough information—”

“Do I look like I care?” Alastor snarled. “I even tried to tell you how to do it.”

“I killed your husband,” the man muttered in realisation. “I killed his husband. I…” He trailed off at the sound of water bubbling and frothing like it was boiling. Andy almost thought it was, until he saw the first snout peek out from under the surface.

“Yes, you did kill my husband,” Alastor said as alligators, dozens of them, crawled up onto the shore. They growled and hissed, adding to the sound of static and rain. A few alligators even made their way past Andy, which made him realise exactly why Alastor had told him to stay back a moment earlier. They were swarming around the demon, who bent down and picked something up. “He looks pretty dead, indeed,” Alastor said and held up the decapitated head of the devil.

Andy had to fight another round of nausea. He slapped a hand over his mouth. He could hear Winston or Pierce retch behind him. It became even more of a struggle when Alastor turned the head towards himself and grinned at it.

“A little kiss before I educate this lovely pretender,” he said sweetly and pressed his lips against Lucifer’s. Given the angle, Andy was able to meet Alastor’s glowing eye where it was cracked open and looking right at him.

Ah, so this was payback for the skull, Andy thought and gulped down the sickness that threatened to bubble up his throat.

Alastor adjusted his grip on his husband’s head, gripping it by the hair, instead, so he could hold it with one hand. He moved the head away from him and picked up something from one of the other alligators. Andy noticed that a lot of them were actually holding pieces of the devil. One even had his coat in its mouth. Alastor had picked up the arm from earlier.

“Lumpy?” Winston whimpered.

Andy turned to see a huge alligator waltzing past them. It had a big lump on its back, looking like a scar. It was bigger than the other alligators, it seemed, even if there were a few that weren’t that far away from it in size.

It strolled right past Andy, holding what looked like a torso. The other alligators moved out of the way to let it pass. It blended in with the rest of them while Alastor turned back to a pale-looking doctor.

“Now, I told you specifically that your cuts need improvement,” Alastor snarled at him. He stepped closer to Hen on the ground, who quickly started to move backwards. “And then you kidnap my husband to try and do something that’s worth my time. You used my damned husband to prove yourself to me, for crying out loud!” He held the severed arm up. “You cut up my husband and ended up doing it this poorly? You’re an absolute disgrace. Not only are you completely unoriginal, but you can’t even copy someone else right!” He pointed at the jagged and uneven edge around where Hen had severed the limb from the rest of the body. “This is the most unprofessional and sloppy work I’ve seen in a long time, and I work with a bunch of lazy bastards who don’t care for doing things properly.”

“What?” Hen uttered.

“You’re bringing the reputation of us proper serial killers down by merely existing,” Alastor continued to vent. “Look at this!” he exclaimed and pointed to where he’d severed the head. “You didn’t even use the same cut you used to kill him to cut his head off! What a waste.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

Andy’s attention went back to the alligators covering every inch of the ground around Alastor. He saw Lumpy let go of Lucifer’s torso, while another one came over with his leg. One of them had his arm and placed it down beside the other pieces. One by one, they came over with his limbs. Upper arms, shins, thighs, feet. Andy watched in astonishment as the pieces started to move on their own. Alastor seemed to hear it. He barely glanced over his shoulder and tossed the arm at the rest of the body that seemed to reassemble itself.

“Shit,” he breathed as the body of Lucifer adjusted its clothes, fixed seams and got up from the ground. He heard the rest of them gasp, too.

The headless body placed its hands on its hips and looked like it was glancing around to try and find something. The alligator with the coat hissed, making the body turn to it. It crouched down and patted its head, before it took the coat. It walked over to Alastor, ending up beside him.

“Here you go, love,” Alastor said, holding the head out for the body.

“Take the coat,” Lucifer’s voice grumbled, which made all of them look at the head. One of Lucifer’s eyes was open, the other was squeezed shut because of Alastor’s hand pressing against it where he was trying to hand the head over to the body. Alastor hummed and removed his hand so he could grab the coat, instead, before he let Lucifer grab his own head. He placed it on backwards, getting eye contact with Andy. He winked at him, before he let go of his head and let it turn back to the front to look at the doctor. Hen looked like he was pissing himself, which, yeah, Andy would too if he wasn’t prepared for it. “Hello, Doctor Hen,” Lucifer greeted him. “Nice to see you again.”

“He looks seconds away from fainting,” Alastor mused and placed his hands on his hips.

“Did I overdo it?” Lucifer asked.

“No, I think you could’ve done a lot more, actually,” Alastor replied.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and took the coat from Alastor. “You’re never fucking pleased, are you?” he huffed before he gestured to the hole in the coat. “He fucking shot me, by the way.”

Alastor’s head snapped to the man on the ground. “You shot him?!” Andy had a feeling he already knew about it. “You’re not a copycat at all, are you?” Alastor continued, stalking closer to him.

Hen started hyperventilating. “Please, I just wanted to honour you—”

“Do I look honoured?” Alastor spat. Hen shook his head. “You’ve been doing it all wrong from the damned start! The only one you seemed to have gotten remotely right was the guy who got away from you and ended up dead on his own. You didn’t even get to kill him, and here you are, snivelling and begging for me to think you’re doing a good job? Absolutely pathetic,” Alastor sneered. “You’re lucky, you know that?”

“Why?” Hen asked.

“Because I’ll teach you exactly how to do it,” Alastor informed him. Shadows stretched out from where he stood. They remined Andy of crawling hands. They pulled themselves out and towards the screaming doctor.

“No, stop!” Hensley yelled.

“Dylan?!” the medical examiner yelped, getting to his feet. He’d finally spotted the rest of them.

“Run!” Hensley told him, grabbed onto the gun from the hem of Andy’s jeans and ripped it out. Andy didn’t even think. He turned around and threw himself onto the other detective. Winston and Pierce did the same, forcing Hensley down on the ground. Andy tried to get to the gun, but with the two others doing the same, it was just about impossible to get a good grip on it. “Run, Tom!” Hensley repeated desperately.

Alastor and Lucifer were watching them struggle. Thomas ran from the crawling and clawing shadows. He stumbled but managed to catch himself before he continued to sprint off into the trees. The two demons stared after him. Andy wasn’t entirely sure how well they would take losing their victim.

He didn’t really have that much time to think of it, either.

The gun went off.

Winston cried out in pain.

Hensley, Pierce and Andy froze.

“Fuck,” Pierce hissed, finally managing to grab the gun out of Hensley’s hands before he threw it away from them. Andy grabbed onto Winston while Pierce managed to wrestle Hensley down onto his stomach. “What the fuck are you fucking doing you absolutely fucking—”

“Wince?” Andy asked, seeing Winston curl up. His eyes were wide. He held his stomach, fingers pressing into his flesh. “Winston?” Andy tried again, seeing his colleague’s eyes flicker over to meet his.

“I’m dead,” Winston stated. “I’m not going to make it. It’s a gut shot, Andy.” Blood bubbled up over his lips. “Tell my family I—”

“You’re all so damned dramatic,” Lucifer scoffed as he stepped past the alligators and made his way over to them like he had all the time in the world. “It’s just a gunshot wound,” he said and sat down beside Andy, who shuffled over to let him see what was going on. “Come on, let me see it.”

Winston stared at him. “What?” he gurgled.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and slapped Winston’s hand away. Blood gushed out of the wound, but the devil looked completely unfazed as he placed his hand over it. Another flash of bright, golden light made them wince. Winston cried out in pain. He was trying to curl away from Lucifer’s hands, but Andy held him tight. It took a lot less time than it had when they’d healed Hensley’s legs.

“There you go,” Lucifer said once the job was done. He patted Winston’s shoulder and pushed himself back up onto his feet. Winston stared at him, before he placed his hand down on his stomach. “I didn’t know if you wanted the bullet or not,” Lucifer said and handed him the small piece of metal. Winston stared at it where it lied in his palm.

“You saved my life,” Winston said.

“I saved both of you, actually,” Lucifer retorted, nodding at where Hensley had pressed his face down into the wet moss. His body was shaking with quiet sobs where Pierce continued to hold him down. “No need to thank me,” he added, sounding like he expected a thanks but was yet to receive one.

“Thank you,” Winston mumbled. “I owe you—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Lucifer brushed him off.

“No, you don’t understand,” Winston said. “I have two small kids. I have a family—”

Lucifer held up a hand, making him shut up. “I really mean it. It’s nothing.”

Andy sighed and got to his feet. He looked at where Alastor was standing with his hands behind his back, staring at the spot where the medical examiner had disappeared. The alligators were slowly making their way back into the swamps, except Lumpy, who was walking causally over to them. Lucifer grinned down at the beast and scratched its head.

“I’m sorry he ran away,” Andy said, nodding towards where Alastor.

Lucifer grinned at him. “It’s what we wanted to happen,” he said, continuing to pet the alligator. “Part of what makes Al so damned terrifying is that he can generally find anyone just by tracking them,” he continued. “It’s part of his thing, you know? It’s the way we work.”

“I forgot about that,” Andy admitted, placing his hands back in his pockets. “So, I’m guessing you guys are going hunting, then?”

“Absolutely,” Lucifer confirmed with a sharp grin. He waved at Lumpy as he made his way back over to Winston, who reached out carefully and scratched the reptile’s back. It groaned and leaned into the touch, closing its eyes. “I’m just going to help you guys back to the cars, first,” Lucifer said, opening a portal. Andy could hear the others hiss out curses at the sight of the vehicles on the other side of the rift in reality. “We’re just giving him a head-start, anyway, so.” He turned to look at his husband. “Do you have your knife?”

“Always,” Alastor told him spawning his knife and letting it drop into his hand. He made his way over to the rest of them. Pierce helped Hensley back on his feet after strapping a pair of handcuffs on him. “I want to tank you for making him run, Detective Hensley,” Alastor said. “I don’t think he would’ve done it if it weren’t for you.” He tilted his head. “Now, I do wonder, though. Why are you so protective of him?”

Hensley sniffed and shook his head. “He’s my brother,” he confessed. “No one wants to see their brother get killed, right?”

“Some might,” Pierce grumbled. Andy grimaced, knowing his friend had ended up with probably the worst sibling in existence. He hadn’t had a great childhood, at least. Thankfully, he’d been taken out of the family before someone got more hurt. He’d ended up with life in prison from the moment he turned 18.

“Well, that does explain some of it,” Alastor said and grinned at Andy. “I’m sure you’re willing to tell us the rest of the story over dinner, one day?”

“Yeah, sure,” Andy muttered. Alastor looked pleased. “You’re not going back to Hell?”

“Not yet,” Lucifer said. “Our deal is done, at least, but we’ve got one last thing to do before we go.” He got his phone out of his pocket. “We’ll be around for a few days at least. If not, I’ll just text you when we’re in town.”

“We might be a bit busy for the next few days, actually,” Alastor said.

“You mean you’ll be busy for the next few days,” Lucifer corrected him. “I’m going to sit on the couch being stuck in phone meetings,” he huffed, before he turned to Andy with an apologetic grin. “Hell never sleeps, I’m afraid. We’ve been gone for a few days, so it’s most likely a little chaotic down there.”

“I’m sure it is,” Andy said. “Why don’t you just text when you get back some day, and I’ll see if I have time for that dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Lucifer agreed.

“Now,” Alastor said, looking at his husband. “Are we going?”

“Yup,” Lucifer replied. “As soon as these fine people go back to their cars,” Lucifer added, making Andy feel like they’d overstayed their welcome. “It’s safe, so just walk on through.” The devil gestured to the portal. Winston nodded, gave Lumpy one last pat and stepped through it carefully, sucking in a shocked breath once he was on the other side. Pierce got Hensley through it, leaving only Andy.

“What’s going to happen to Doctor Hen?” Andy asked.

Lucifer glanced at Alastor, before he turned back to Andy. “One of us will kill him here, the other will destroy him when he gets to Hell.” The way he’d bit out the word ‘destroy’ made him realise Lucifer was a lot angrier than he looked. “It’s only fair. I can’t have him running around spreading misinformation about me, now, can I?”

“True,” Andy muttered. He looked at where Pierce and Winston were getting Hensley into the back of the police cruiser. He was about to walk through the portal, but hesitated. “Will we find the body, this time, or will he be gone forever?”

“Gone, I’d say,” Lucifer said. “Might find his head, somewhere if you’re lucky.”

“Great,” Andy huffed before he held out his hand. Lucifer raised an eyebrow before he grinned and took it. “Thank you for your help. It’s been surprisingly fun.”

“Well, it was an interesting case,” Lucifer said. “I didn’t want to miss it.”

Andy grinned at him before he turned to Alastor and held out his hand for him to shake. Alastor seemed a bit more hesitant, about it, but then he grabbed it with a gentle smile on his lips.

“Thank you for summoning me,” the demon said. “And thank you for upholding your end of the bargain. I’ve been having a wonderful time.”

“Well, it felt a bit like wasting time in the beginning, if I’m being honest, knowing you both knew who it was from early on,” Andy said. “But then I got to know you both and I don’t think I’d change it.”

“Good to know,” Alastor said and let go of him. He glanced at the portal. “We’ll see each other again, detective. My husband and I have things to attend to, and your friends are waiting for you.”

Andy glanced at where Pierce and Winston were standing, leaning against the police cruiser. “Yeah, you’re right.” He smiled at the two demons. “Until next time?”

“Enjoy the rest of the night,” Alastor said.

“Enjoy the hunt,” Andy replied and stepped through the portal. He turned to look at the two demons one last time, waving at them before the portal closed behind him. He faced his two colleagues. “Fucking hell,” he muttered and hurried over to them.

“Okay, how the fuck did you befriend a couple of demons?” Pierce asked once he got over to them. “Since last time I checked, you weren’t exactly religious.”

“Carter told him to summon a demon to help him out right before he put him on the bench,” Winston said, as if that was explanation enough. It was, apparently, since Pierce scoffed and nodded.

“Well, you’re telling me all about it once we get Hensley back to the station,” he said and walked over to his own car. “I’m up for a drink.”

“It’s five in the morning,” Winston said.

“Yes? And?” Pierce asked as he opened the door to his car. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to spend the entire day drinking. I don’t fucking care whatever the fuck anyone says. I saw shit out there in the bayou that’s going to live with me for the rest of my life, and there’s not a single, fucking chance I’m going to end up sleeping,” he told them as he slumped into the seat. “I’m drinking the day away. You’re both welcome to join me.”

Winston hesitated, before he sighed. “I’ll call in sick.”

“Great,” Pierce peeked out of the car. “Andy?”

“No, you two go ahead,” Andy said. “I’ve been having them following me around for days. I’m used to their shit by now.” He sighed, and placed his hands in his pockets. “I’ll probably just go to sleep and talk to Hensley when I wake up, instead,” he told him.

“Suit yourself,” Pierce huffed and slammed his door shut.

Winston motioned for Andy to follow him into the cruiser. Andy got into the passenger’s seat and closed his door while Winston started up the car. Hensley sat staring emptily out at the world outside the window. He looked lost in thought, and Andy had little to no desire to talk to him. Not after all that had happened. It stung, even when he knew the guy only wanted to keep his brother alive. It was that damned trust, he guessed. He could never truly trust Hensley again, after this, and while it would be difficult to prove that him and his brother had been behind the deaths of so many people the past three years, Andy still knew the detective had enough honour in him to go through with turning himself in.

Winston had to reverse the entire way back out of the tractor path. There was nowhere to turn, at least. Not while Hen’s sedan stood in the way. No one said a word to each other the entire way. Andy ended up checking his phone, finding himself staring at his contacts where the little devil symbol stared back at him. He knew he would end up looking at the contact multiple times just to assure himself that it had been real and not just another round of what he’d thought was a hallucination.

They got to the main road, Winston let out a quiet sigh as he finally got to turn the car around and drive the right way. Pierce was right behind them as they made their way back to New Orleans and towards the precinct. Andy found himself nodding off on his way there, and it wasn’t until Winston parked the car outside his apartment that he realised he’d just driven him home instead.

“I thought I was going with you to the station?” Andy asked.

“Pierce and I will take care of it,” Winston said. “Go get some sleep.”

Andy hesitated. “Are you sure?” He couldn’t describe how much he wanted to just take a shower and get under his covers.

“Yeah, just go,” Winston assured him. “He’s not going to do anything,” he said quietly, making Andy glance at Hensley. The detective met Andy’s eyes and smiled sadly, before he turned back to the window.

“Right. Thank you,” Andy muttered and got out of the car. He looked back at his colleague. “Sorry for dragging you into all of this,” he said.

“Well, it’s been a wild ride, hasn’t it?” Winston huffed. “Wife’s going to be pissed at me for looking like I got shot.”

“You got shot,” Andy said.

“Yeah, I got fucking shot,” Winston grumbled. Hensley muttered an apology from the back seat. “Go get some sleep, Greene. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. I’ll join the two of you for a drink next time,” Andy said. “Night.”

“Night.” Winston said.

Andy closed the door and watched Winston drive off. He stood at the sidewalk and stared after the car. He sighed and turned around, looking at his apartment building.

What a fucking night, he thought as he made his way inside, up the stairs, through the hallways and unlocked his apartment door. He stepped inside and closed it behind him. He slipped off his shoes and went straight into the bathroom, where he took a shower, got his pyjamas and went straight to bed.

He dreamed about teeth, severed heads, alligators, eyes, guns, shadow hands, strange creatures, deer, ducks and hunger.

And two remarkably sweet demons in love.

(I don't know why I ended up drawing this many pics for this chapter, but here you go XD)

Chapter Text

Andy walked into the interrogation room and sat down in front of Hensley. He placed the folder he was holding down in front of him and opened it. Hensley looked down at the documents.

“Can you state your name and date of birth for the record?” Andy asked.

“Dylan Hensley,” Hensley said. “Fifth of August, nineteen-ninety.”

Andy nodded. “I will start this off by reminding you of your rights,” he said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney.” Andy paused, seeing Hensley’s eyes fall to his own hands. He played with the chains of his handcuffs. “Do you understand the rights I’ve just read to you?” Andy asked.

“I do,” Hensley replied.

“With these rights in mind, do you want to speak to me?” Andy continued.

“Yeah.”

Andy nodded and let out a sigh. “Talk to me, Dyl,” he said. “Just explain it to me. From the beginning. What happened?”

Hensley swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “It’s not a nice story,” he said. “I guess you can already imagine some of it?”

“You’ve never really talked about your background,” Andy reminded him. “You just kept quiet when we talked about our own lives.”

“Right,” Hensley murmured. He kept his eyes on his hands. “I guess I’ll start with the beginning, then.” He glanced up at Andy, but his gaze returned to his fingers before he could meet his eyes. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “So, Thomas Hen is my brother,” he started. “We were always pretty close. I mean, you have to be when…” He trailed off. “Our home situation wasn’t great. Our dad was pretty violent. I always made sure Tommy was safe. I didn’t want him to have to face our dad’s shit. Mom wasn’t much better, but at least she had an ounce of empathy in her. She didn’t do anything to us, at least.”

Andy felt his heart drop. “What kind of things did your dad do?”

Hensley stayed quiet for a while, continuing to fiddle with the handcuffs. “Mostly beatings. An alcoholic, you know? Got so mad he had to get it out of his system, somehow. That’s where I came in.” he reached up and scratched his eyebrow. “I did everything I could to keep Tommy out of it. Always got in the way no matter what he did.”

“Which one of you is the eldest?” Andy asked.

“Him,” Andy said. “He’s about two years older than me.”

“And you were the one who ended up standing up to your dad?” Andy questioned. “Always?”

“Always,” Hensley confirmed. “He got into a lot of trouble. It didn’t take too long before I understood that dad would beat him if he did, so as a dumb, little kid, I got in the way. I didn’t want to see my brother get hurt.”

Andy stared at him. “Why wouldn’t he try and protect you back?”

Hensley huffed. “I said I didn’t want him to,” he explained. “I should’ve known that was exactly what he wanted. I see that, now. He used me. Let me get so beat up that I almost ended up at the ER. Thank fuck I didn’t, because then our dad would really kill me,” he muttered and shook his head. “I was just a kid. I didn’t know older brothers were supposed to protect the younger. By the time I was old enough to figure it out, it wasn’t a problem anymore.” Hensley tapped the table with his middle finger five times. “I killed my dad, Andy.”

Andy didn’t know how to respond to that, so he waited patiently for Hensley to keep going. Hensley wiped a finger under his eye and leaned back in his seat.

Five more taps.

“I got home from school one day, and found mom dead on the floor,” Hensley told him. His voice broke and he cleared his throat again. He paused. “Beaten to a pulp. I remember wanting to call the police, but then dad was there. He was strangling him,” Hensley said. His eyes turned distant. “I just remember seeing Tommy going blue, and I knew I had to do something.” He stared at his hand, curled his fingers to look like a gun. “Got dad’s gun from the drawer and shot him five times. Then I called the cops.”

“Is that why you wanted to become a detective?” Andy asked quietly.

Hensley smiled. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, I wanted to help people. I wanted to be able to stop people like my dad. It’s probably the proudest I’ve ever been when I got promoted to detective.” His smile fell. “The cops who came to my place wanted to help me out. One of them decided to adopt me, even. I remember wanting him to take my brother, too, but he only had room for one.” Hensley shook his head, again. “I didn’t want to keep my last name, so I changed it to Hensley just so I could get some distance from my dad, while also being able to keep the name that I shared with my brother.”

“So, you started out as Dylan Hen?” Andy asked.

“Yeah,” Hensley said. “Thomas and Dylan Hen. The little troublemakers.” He met Andy’s eyes. There was a seriousness in them that Hensley rarely sported. “I never questioned Thomas’ sanity when I was younger. I never liked to think about that time. The only thing I ever questioned was why he ended up becoming a medical examiner. It was like he enjoyed hanging out with dead people.” Hensley furrowed his brow. “It was like seeing our parents dead snapped something in him. I don’t remember, but I think he was playing with our dad’s body while we waited for the police to arrive. I was in shock, so I don’t know for sure.”

“That’s alright,” Andy said.

“Well, anyway, I kept in touch with Thomas after we got split up,” he continued his story. “I ended up getting therapy and got the all-clear to get into the police academy, and Thomas studied for medical school. He became a doctor, and I became a cop.”

“He started out as a GP, right?” Andy asked.

“Yes,” Hensley said. “He enjoyed helping kids, I think. He wasn’t too fond of adults. I almost thought he was a…” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think he was. He just didn’t enjoy interacting with adults. In the end, he said he wanted to start helping investigators, and ended up transferring to the coroner’s office.” He grimaced. “Now that I think more about it, it sounds like his obsession came back.”

“With death?”

Hensley nodded. “Serial killers. Murderers. He sometimes asked me if I’d seen a specific show or a documentary about someone. I think I thought it was because of his work, and that he liked critiquing the shows.” He sighed. “And then he got the copycat case.”

Andy leaned against the table. “You thought he just really enjoyed working on something he was interested in?”

“He was ecstatic,” Hensley muttered. “It looked like he’d found his calling, so to speak. He came up with theories and just seemed eager to help catch him. I never really saw any problems with it. Remember in the beginning, we didn’t know it was a copycat?”

Andy nodded. “Yeah, it took a couple of months, didn’t it?” It had taken almost three, in reality. It had seemed like a regular, old serial killer case. No one had really thought it could be a copycat until Hen had told them it looked a little bit like the serial killer from the 30s. After that, most of them had agreed that, yeah, it definitely looked like the guy was trying to copy the cannibal.

“After that, he wanted to help out more, so I gave him some information and some documents. The document with the gravesite included the Bayou Killer’s autopsy report, which I gave to him when I got the case from Scott a few months ago. I don’t know why he needed it, but it seemed important to him, like maybe he would be able to find something in it.”

Andy sighed and looked down at the files in front of him. He flipped through the pages and glanced up at Hensley, again. The other looked like he didn’t know what more to say.

“How did you figure out it was Thomas?” Andy asked gently.

“You,” Hensley muttered. “You in the car when we were about to talk to Mrs. North. The twin theory of yours.”

Andy tilted his head. “It made you think of your brother?”

“It did,” Hensley replied. “I didn’t think too much of it, at first, but it made me start wondering if maybe he could be the killer.” He sighed, again. “I just had to confirm it. I remembered the document with the grave, so I wanted to go and check it out, just in case someone had been at the gravesite, recently.”

“And then you saw Doctor Hen and Mr. Morn?”

“And that confirmed it,” Hensley said. “I felt like I had to try and stop him, somehow, but because Pierce joined me to the cemetery, I didn’t really know what to do.”

“And then Pierce decided that he would follow the car?” Andy knew his friend well enough to know he wouldn’t stand by idly while someone was being kidnapped. It was more likely that Pierce would follow than just take his plate number and figure the rest out later.

“Yes, but we lost them after a while,” Hensley said.

“How did you know where they’d go?”

Hensley shrugged and bit his lip. “It was our safe haven, once,” he said. “That spot in the bayou. We lived not too far away from there, so sometimes, if we knew our dad would be drinking, we’d take the bus over to that part of the bayou, and then walk down the tractor path and into the bayou from there. We never strayed from the path, knowing we could end up becoming alligator food. It led to this small hut by the river. We fished there, sometimes.”

“Why would he bring people in there to kill them?” Andy asked.

“I’d ask him if I could,” Hensley replied. “I don’t think a lot of people know about it. It’s overgrown and dangerous to go in there, especially at night without a flashlight. If you end up going off the trail, getting lost is almost a given.”

Andy nodded in agreement. There were definitely some places he never dared to go, and the bayou at night was one of them. Unless he had a certain demon to show him the way.

Hensley stared at him for a moment. “Have you heard anything?” he asked.

“No,” Andy admitted. He knew he shouldn’t tell Hensley anything about the ongoing investigation of where Thomas Hen was. Andy already knew it was unlikely they would ever find him. Especially this soon after everything that had happened. “You know we’ll tell you if we find him. He’s your brother, after all.”

“Thank you,” Hensley said.

“Don’t mention it,” Andy replied. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Hensley shook his head. “No, I don’t think there’s much more to tell.”

“Well, then,” Andy said. “Thank you for talking to me.”

“I should’ve told you a lot sooner,” Hensley said.

“It could’ve spared us a lot of shit, at least,” Andy said and got up from his seat. He closed his folder and placed it under his arm. “You’re a great detective, Hensley. I hope you know that.”

“Too bad I won’t be able to keep doing it,” Hensley muttered. “But thank you.”

Andy smiled at him and gave him a quick nod, before he made his way towards the entrance. He caught his own eye in the one-way mirror. He looked tired, which wasn’t surprising. It had been a couple of days since he’d left the two demons in the bayou. He’d ended up sleeping for almost twenty hours. He’d only gotten up to eat. It had ended with him taking another day off just to get back into a regular schedule.

The copycat case was over. Almost three years it had taken the NOPD to figure it out, and it had ended up with them not having a killer, anymore. He’d most likely already been wiped from existence. Either that, or he was still alive in a basement in the bayou being tortured by a serial killer from the 30s.

He walked over to his desk and put the file back together with the now fully collected evidence from the copycat case, and put the lid on the box. He picked it up and made his way through the bullpen, smiling at Winston as he passed him. He nodded at Officer Barns, who gave the box a scrutinizing look as he passed her, before he got into the evidence room and found the right locker for the copycat files. He placed the box in the locker and closed it, making sure it was locked, before he made his way back out.

He went over to his chair and grabbed his jacket and his keys, deciding to take a short walk to get some lunch. He asked Winston if he wanted anything. His colleague shook his head, and Andy gave him a thumbs-up (which just made Winston purse his lips), before he headed out of the precinct and into the rainy day. He zipped his jacket closed and strolled through the streets.

He turned down an almost deserted street.

A chill went down his spine. He stopped walking. It felt like someone was watching him. His mind unhelpfully brought up the sight of sharp teeth and wide eyes staring at him. The void felt like it was calling him, almost. He shook his head and kept walking for a few steps.

Movement in his peripheral made him look at the building beside him. He stared at the shadow on the wall. Then down at the shadow on the ground. He turned his head slowly until he came face to face with the shadow that wasn’t his own. It grinned at him, and Andy found himself grinning back.

The shadow lifted a hand and pointed at an alley. Andy narrowed his eyes before he made his way over to it. It didn’t take long for him to find what the shadow had wanted to show him.

The head of Thomas Hen.

Andy sighed and thanked the shadow, before he crouched down and inspected the decapitated head. He frowned. It looked like it had been cut perfectly across the neck, like someone had taken great care of making it so level that the head would be able to stay upright. However, what didn’t fit with the rest of it was the face. Well, more specifically, the lack of a mouth. It looked like someone had cut off the man’s lips all the way up his cheeks, revealing the teeth and muscles underneath. A permanent grin.

That wasn’t something Alastor would do, Andy thought and looked a little closer. It almost looked like it had been cauterized. Fine burns lined the skin, stopping any bleeding.

“I’ll deal with this after lunch,” Andy muttered to himself and picked his phone out of his pocket. He glanced down at the head. “You fucked up a perfectly good brother, you know?” he said and gave him the finger, before he made his way out of the alley and continued the walk towards the little kebab shop he’d wanted to have lunch at.

He sent Lucifer a message telling him he’d found the head, receiving a devil-grin emoji back. It made him huff.

He was about to close the message app when he spotted something else. He stopped in his tracks, pressed the contact and stared at the number. He sent a quick text.

Two weeks later, he put on a blood red cloak.

(I drew this before the radioapple symbol came out, technically, but then I realised I couldn't not use it, so I had to redraw the symbol on the back...)

Chapter Text

“Okay, so, just to get this right,” Lucifer said and leaned back in his throne. Alastor sat in the throne to his right, leaning his head in his hand. An older succubus stood in front of them with her hands folded in front of her. A relatively big crowd was waiting behind her, waiting for their turn. “Someone from Pride has been sabotaging your store in Lust and you want compensation and protection?”

“I believe they’re terrorists,” the woman stated.

Alastor sighed as the woman continued to talk. He felt his mind wander to something completely different. Mainly just what to bring up on his next broadcast. It had been a few days since the last one, and because of another round of meetings (this time about an inner threat from terrorists and rebels who weren’t happy with the connection between the two realms), he hadn’t had the time to think too much of what he wanted to actually talk to his subjects about. He had another meeting with the overlords just the next day, so he was definitely thinking about sneaking off after the audiences were done. An hour would be all he needed to feel like himself again. He knew Lucifer would understand.

“Right,” Lucifer muttered. “What kind of wares do you even sell? If you’re not selling anything that the rebels would be interested in, then I don’t see why it would be them.”

The woman pursed her lips and glanced away. “Well,” she started and cleared her throat. “Merch.”

Lucifer glanced at Alastor. “What?”

“Merchandise,” Alastor informed him tiredly. He stretched one of his legs out, feeling his knee crack, before he crossed it over his other.

“Oh, right,” Lucifer said. “What kind of merchandise do you sell?” he asked the woman, who looked even less happy about answering.

“Uhm,” she hesitated, eyes flickering between the two of them. “You know…” She shrugged. “Some Hell-related things.”

“How specific,” Alastor drawled, hearing Lucifer huff beside him. “What kind of ‘Hell-related’ things? Anything illegal? Angelic weapons?”

“No, no,” the woman spoke quickly. “No, just, uhm…” She grimaced. “Tourist items, you know? Little hellish snow globes and magnets. Scarves, hoodies, t-shirts and such.” She grinned awkwardly. “It’s like a tourist shop.”

“Like a tourist shop?” Lucifer questioned. “For angels and winners?”

“Primarily,” the woman replied with a nod. “We sell some other stuff, too, but mostly just things that would be fun to bring back from a trip to Hell. I mean, we sell a lot of magnets.”

“And you think the rebels are out to get you just because you own a tourist shop meant for people from Heaven?” Lucifer asked.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the woman said and bowed her head. “It was attempted arson. I’m sure of it. I managed to stop the fire before it spread from the postcards to the t-shirts with your—” She cut herself off. “It’s not that important what it was, actually. I mostly just want some protection so it doesn’t happen again.”

“How many times has it happened?” Alastor asked.

“Seven or eight,” the succubus informed them. “I have it all on video if you want to see it. It’s like I can’t see who starts it. It just happens.”

Alastor felt a chill go down his spine as he thought back to another instance of an invisible assailant. That had been an attempted assassination, however. Not just arson. Lucifer seemed to come to the same conclusion, glancing at him before he nodded for the woman to step over to them. She pulled her phone out and made her way up the stairs to the dais.

The two of them leaned forward to look at the screen, seeing the video of the shop. It looked like a regular tourist trap, to be honest. It was a fitting place to have one in Hell, actually, even if he didn’t understand why anyone would want anything from the realm just to keep as a keepsake. Not to mention, the things in the shop looked like they had absolutely awful quality, and were generally questionable. He guessed it fit into the Lust Ring.

“Is that us?” Lucifer asked dryly. It took Alastor a second to spot what he’d seen. A few t-shirts with a print with what looked like the two of them. It was just their silhouettes. The woman chuckled sheepishly, making Lucifer look up at her. Alastor was too busy trying to see where the fire was going to start to care. She’d mentioned the postcards—

Alastor didn’t really know what happened next. He felt Lucifer’s arm slam him back into the throne. The woman vanished out of sight—no, she was shoved out of the way. Alastor barely registered Lucifer’s hiss before he was in his shadow and out on the floor, looking around for whatever had happened. Some people waiting in line fell over, others started screaming, and others tried to get out of the way of the invisible force making its way towards the exit.

Alastor screeched and went after them.

The Chameleon.

The one who’d tried to kill him once, already. That damned assassin. He wouldn’t let them get away. He would kill them. He would slay them. They would pay for daring to try and kill him in the first place. They would cease to exist, just like the copycat’s fate had been, but by Alastor’s hands, this time, not Lucifer’s.

He summoned his angelic sword from his void. The crowd scattered, trying to get away from Alastor’s blade. He shot forwards, eyes locked onto the blowgun seemingly floating and moving through his panicking subjects.

He swung his sword. He felt it cut through flesh. He saw black blood spurt out of what had to be the Chameleon.

The blowgun fell to the ground. The now visible arm that held it fell with it. It landed with a thud as more and more people rushed around him, trying to get away. He saw the Chameleon lose her disguise for a moment, eyes meeting his, before she disappeared in the crowd. Alastor felt himself pause where he stood. His sword was stuck in the carpet.

He felt like he knew her. He felt like he’d known her, once, at least. He had no idea who she was, but he felt like their paths had crossed before.

He pulled his sword out of the carpet, let it drop into his void and picked up the blowgun and the severed arm while the rest of the people around him were running for the exit. The two guards looked like they had no idea what had happened, annoyingly enough. They both twirled around, trying to spot the assailant.

“Follow the blood,” he ordered the two guards. He pointed at the black trail with the severed arm, and the two demons nodded quickly and hurried after the last few people fleeing. It left only himself, Lucifer and the woman that had wanted to show them the video of her store.

He turned around, expecting to see the succubus and Lucifer. Instead, he saw nothing but the thrones and a pile of clothes. He stared at the pile, trying to understand what the Hell he was looking at. It felt like he was struggling to comprehend just what exactly had happened to his husband. He’d been there. He’d pushed Alastor out of the way, and then?

Alastor felt his heart drop. He let the arm and the blowgun vanish into his void as he rushed over to the bundle of clothes.

“Lucifer?” he asked, feeling his heart speed up considerably as he looked down at the white coat, pants and black boots. They lied in a pile on top of the dais. Even his husband’s crown had ended up a few feet away on its side.

Alastor fell to his knees. “Lucifer?” he asked again. He reached out and was about to touch the fabric of his coat when he saw it move. The first thought that hit him was that he’d somehow ended up turning himself into a damned animal. The second thing was that he was trying to prank him, and that he’d just made himself much shorter than usual for the fun of it. “Oh, you’re an absolute ass,” Alastor snapped and lifted the coat to see what his husband had come up with.

It was not an animal. It was not just a regular shrinkage.

Instead of his husband, there was a baby. A baby that looked a lot like his husband, actually. It looked like it was sleeping, and one look at the baby’s neck told him that it wasn’t by choice.

“No,” he said. “Nope, no. Don’t you dare do this to me, right now,” he hissed, as he grabbed the dart sticking out of his skin at the crook of his neck and plucked it out. “Don’t you fucking dare. Come on. A baby? Seriously?” He poked the baby—well, it looked more like a small toddler, but it didn’t as much as bat an eye. “I saw you move, you little shit,” he said, because damn it, if there was one thing he wouldn’t tolerate, it was this type of untasteful prank. He didn’t like kids, and here his husband was—

What if it wasn’t a prank?

Alastor stared down at the child. It had to be Lucifer, right? No one had been close to him except the woman with the video. Had she done something to him?

“Lucifer?” Alastor tried once again. It was the same, golden hair, the alabaster skin with the rosy cheeks. It looked like an exact replica of his husband, just smaller (which was apparently possible, even if Alastor found it hard to believe). “Lucifer!” he said a little louder, finally grabbing the baby by the arm. He gave him a gentle shake, but he still didn’t move.

Alastor’s heart beat faster.

Shit.

He placed his index and middle finger against the baby’s neck. A strong pulse beat underneath the warm skin. Alastor breathed out in relief and looked around. He was alone in the throne room, and the longer he sat there with what looked like the toddler-version of his husband, the more he started to feel an increased sense of helplessness wash him.

“Please be alright,” Alastor muttered as he poked the baby a little harder. “What do I do?” he continued, looking around the throne room, again. He grimaced and turned back to the child as Lucifer let out a soft hum. “Lucifer?” he asked.

When he still got no response, he felt his anger start to bubble up in him. His husband had apparently taken a damned dart to the neck for him, and while he was happy the situation wasn’t switched, it still felt like some sort of punishment for whatever it was he’d done to make him deserve to end up in this predicament.

“Of all the fucking things you could get yourself into,” Alastor started as he swaddled Lucifer in his coat. He used the coat tails to secure it around him, before he lifted him into his arms. He cradled him, which felt like another thing he thought he’d never end up doing. “You really need to stop being an idiot, you know that?” Alastor continued as he got to his feet. Lucifer moved, making Alastor hold onto him a little tighter so he wouldn’t end up falling out of his arms.

He had absolutely no idea what to do. The only thing he could think of was that he needed to get some clothes on his damned husband, only to realise that was probably the last of his worries. Was Lucifer stuck like this for the rest of eternity?

He grimaced and tried to come up with something—anything that would help him. He couldn’t come up with a single thing, and that in itself was incredibly frustrating.

“What do I do?” Alastor asked the sleeping child in the coat. “What the fuck do I—”

“Sir!”

Alastor turned on his heels and saw the two guards come jogging into the throne room. “Did you get her?”

“No, Your Majesty,” one of them informed him. “We lost her trail once she got into the garden. She’s gone.”

“We’ve sent for the hellhounds,” the other one said, before his eyes landed on the bundle in his arms. “What… what’s that?” he asked.

Alastor stared at the guard. “It’s a child.”

The guards stared back at him. Alastor could feel their eyes start trailing down until they settled on his stomach.

If there was one thing Alastor didn’t need right then was two guards thinking he’d given birth.

“Not my child,” he clarified, which made the two of them look more confused than anything. “Lucifer took the hit that was meant for me,” he continued, before he started to unpack the child. The moment he laid eyes on him, he felt his rage spike. He grabbed onto Lucifer’s leg and held him up for the guards to take a look. “Look at what that bitch did to him!” he exclaimed, making the guards look uncomfortable. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

“Er… Uhm,” the first guard stuttered.

The second guard turned his head away. Alastor stared between the two of them, before he glanced at the still sleeping toddler in his hand. He hung limply, arms hanging down towards the ground. The only indication that he was just sleeping was a quiet snore that escaped him. Alastor rolled his eyes and placed him back into the coat. He’d clearly been knocked out cold by whatever serum had been in the dart. Why the Hell had it made him into a child, though?

“Leave,” Alastor ordered the guards.

“What?” the second one huffed.

“Leave!” Alastor snapped, making the two guards jump. “Go take care of the hellhounds when they arrive. I’ll take care of this.”

The two guards bowed, before they hurried out of the throne rom. Alastor almost regretted not asking them for some advice. He wanted to find Nix. The old imp had quite a few tricks up his sleeve. He’d taken another vacation week, however. Something about his mother being sick and wanting to bring her to Heaven to see if it would help ease her struggles. Alastor had a feeling it could make it worse, but he’d let the imp hope.

He tucked the coat around the child. His hand brushed against one of the pockets. He stared at it, before he looked around over his shoulders and fished his husband’s phone out. He unlocked it, seeing that he needed a password. He typed in “1932” and saw it unlock. It made him smile a little softer, before he remembered what he was actually doing. He sighed and found Lucifer’s contacts, scrolled down until he found Charlie and pressed call.

He put the phone to his ear and waited.

Wait, what was he supposed to tell her? “Hey, your dad stopped someone from trying to incapacitate me, so he’s a child now?” That sounded pretty bad, and while he really needed someone to help him out, he had no idea how to ask her for it. Not to mention just the thought of asking someone for help made his stomach churn.

“Hey, dad—”

Alastor hung up.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

“Damn it,” Alastor snarled as he felt the phone vibrate in his hand. He hesitated for a split-second, before he answered it and placed the device back up to his ear. “I’ll be at the hotel in two minutes,” he bit out. He didn’t let Charlie answer before he hung up. He put the phone in his own pocket and glanced down at his husband. “You better be okay, or I’ll kick you to the other side of Pride,” he growled and let himself fall into his shadow, bringing Lucifer with him.

He sped through the palace, ignoring the still fleeing people outside. He could hear the palace staff trying to calm them all down after his little attack. He would probably have told them everything was fine, but everything wasn’t. He didn’t know if the effect of the serum Lucifer had been injected with would only be a temporary thing, or if it was permanent. Being permanently stuck with a child…

Alastor shoved the thought away forcefully and continued on his way towards the hotel. Charlie had to have some good ideas on what to do. To be honest, he’d listen to just about anyone when it came to this. Since Lucifer hadn’t woken up yet, he also didn’t know what effect the serum had on his mind. Did he have the mentality of a toddler, or was he an ancient being stuck in the body of what looked like a 1-2 year old?

So many questions, and only one he would be able to answer whenever Lucifer woke up.

He shot through the streets of Pentagram City, avoiding the more crowded places, before he finally got to the hill up to the hotel. He went straight under the entrance door and reemerged from his shadow. He could see the distressed look on his shadow’s face, and forced himself to make sure his actual face didn’t look as worried. He slapped on a calm face and held the coat with the toddler closer to his chest and strolled through the lobby.

Thankfully, it seemed like there weren’t anyone in the lounge or waiting at the reception desk that day. Since it was still pretty early, he knew Charlie was likely to be doing one of her programs, and headed for the meeting room she usually used for the bigger groups. He made sure to hold the coat with the child like it wasn’t a coat with a child (it probably just made it even more suspicious that he walked around with a bundled up, white coat, but it didn’t matter right then and there), which ended up with him carrying Lucifer in a less-than-ideal way. He’d heard something about supporting the right places, but he wasn’t sure if that also applied to a slightly older child.

Just, he didn’t know. He had no idea, because it wasn’t something he thought he would ever need to know, especially not because of his idiot of a husband throwing himself in front of an incoming projectile instead of just burning it or putting up some sort of forcefield, or, you know, just letting it hit Alastor. Alastor could deal with being a kid. He wouldn’t care too much, other than the fact that he would lose a lot of respect from his fellow demons if he ended up toddling around and being “cute,” which, okay, no, he wouldn’t want that, either. However, that would’ve been quite a lot better than having to take care of a child, himself.

Of course, Lucifer hadn’t known what would happen, and had apparently decided it would be better that he got hit instead of Alastor, and while that was also true, it also made Alastor annoyingly aware of the fact that his husband had a tendency to put himself in danger just to keep Alastor out of it. He didn’t want that. If Lucifer were to die because he saved Alastor… He didn’t want that to happen.

He smiled at one of the hotel inhabitants as he passed her. It felt more like a grimace, and from her reaction, he had a feeling she took it more as something threatening. She ducked her head down and hurried past him. Alastor adjusted his grip on his husband—actually, he didn’t want to refer to him as his husband at that moment. It felt too strange.

What if this was how Lucifer saw Alastor?

Ew, no. No, he didn’t. He knew that he didn’t. He fucking hoped that he didn’t, and he would shove that thought all the way down into the pit of Hell if he had to, because nope. Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck Alastor’s afterlife and his damned, overprotective husb—partner.

He got to the door to the meeting room and knocked on the door. He hoped Charlie would just come out of the room and take her father so Alastor could leave. He wasn’t that lucky, hearing the princess holler at him to come in. He gritted his teeth and opened the door, holding Lucifer like he was holding a book or a folder as he stepped inside.

“Oh, hi, Al!” Charlie greeted him and got up from her seat. Of course, it was one of the big groups she was in charge of that day. It had to be at least thirty demons sitting in a circle, staring at him as he entered. He could feel their eyes fall to the coat. “What’s going on?” she asked as she stepped out of the circle. It brought Alastor’s attention back to her. “I don’t think you’ve called me before.”

“I haven’t,” Alastor assured her.

“Right,” Charlie muttered as she got closer to them. She looked at the bundle in his arms. “What’s that?”

Alastor had planned to tell her a lot of different things. He’d planned to tell her that her father had an accident during the audience. He’d planned to tell her that her father had suddenly and inexplicably ended up becoming a baby. He’d planned to tell her that it was her father in the coat. Most of all, he’d planned to ask her to join him somewhere more private, given the number of eyes currently locked onto them.

He never had the chance.

Lucifer let out a soft, very baby-like coo and started wiggling. Alastor felt a shiver go down his spine as he held the toddler a little tighter to keep him from falling out of his arms. He froze as he met Charlie’s eyes.

“I might need that onesie, after all,” he said, because he was an absolute idiot that couldn’t function under pressure. Also, he was holding his partner in his arms, and from the noise he’d made, it sounded too much like a regular toddler than an ancient being trapped in a toddler’s body. He felt that justified the horrible miscalculation of what to say to the toddler’s daughter (okay, he needed to figure out how to refer to the damned baby before he ended up getting another round of existential headaches).

“What?” Charlie squawked.

And then, because Alastor felt completely out of his depth, he handed the baby over to her. He hoped she would take one look at the child and realise what had happened so he didn’t have to explain it to her, because who wanted to tell the daughter of the person who got de-aged into a toddler that he had, indeed, been turned into a toddler?

Charlie stared at him analytically as she took the coat and started to unwrap it. Alastor glanced down at the child as he was revealed. Lucifer was awake, this time, at least. He let out another soft sound as he blinked his eyes open and met Charlie’s gaze. The two of them stared at each other. Lucifer let out a happy, little laugh. Charlie’s wide eyes snapped back up to Alastor.

“Oh, my god,” she muttered.

“I felt like I shouldn’t bring it up over the phone,” Alastor said, feeling like she’d understood exactly what had happened.

“Oh, my fu—god,” Charlie continued, eyes going back to the toddler-ified Lucifer. “Oh, my goodness.” Lucifer grinned at her. He had one tooth, and one tooth only.

“I don’t know what happened,” Alastor told her. “It went too fast for me to realise what had occurred until after I saw him.”

Charlie blinked a few times. “Yeah, I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” she breathed.

Alastor felt yet another shudder go through him. “What?”

Charlie didn’t look like she heard him. “I have a baby brother!” she exclaimed, turning around to the group to show Lucifer off, much to Alastor’s horror. The group stared at them, before they erupted into a cheer. Alastor felt like his world was breaking apart around him as he hurried to stop Charlie from bringing the baby over to the group of demons. “I’m a big sister!” she squealed, making Lucifer giggle, too, as she gave him a squeeze.

“No!” Alastor snapped. “No-no-no,” he spluttered and managed to somehow fish the toddler out of her arms. “You’re not,” he corrected her as he adjusted his hold on the squirming child. “It’s your father.”

“It’s—what?” Charlie blurted out, eyes going back to Lucifer. “What?” she repeated, looking at Alastor in disbelief.

“We had a bit of a situation and he turned into a toddler,” he told her, grinning awkwardly as he felt Lucifer stare at him. He kept his gaze pointedly at Charlie. “I’m sure it’s nothing too problematic, but I would love it if you could just…” He trailed off, feeling Lucifer’s hand curl around his lapel. He didn’t want to meet his eyes. “Help me,” he bit out, feeling like he’d completely lost himself in the span of less than thirty minutes.

“Dad?” Charlie asked hesitantly. Lucifer kept his eyes on Alastor. Alastor finally met his eyes, seeing how wide the child’s pupils were. He knew that look. He’d seen it more than once while knowing the devil. Pure adoration. At the moment, Alastor wanted nothing to do with that damned stare.

Lucifer finally turned his head to look at Charlie. He didn’t say a word. He pointed up at Alastor, as if he was surprised he was there and wanted to show her. Either that, or he wanted something. Alastor didn’t know what it could be, and he honestly didn’t want to know. He wanted his partner back to normal. His regular, slightly taller, ancient partner.

“Do you still have the onesie?” Alastor asked the princess, who looked too stunned to react. He’d much rather have Lucifer wear something, instead of being swaddled in his coat. “The blue one? With the ducks?”

Lucifer gasped and looked up at him again. “Duckie?” he breathed, like the word itself was sacred. Alastor had to close his eyes to keep himself from snapping at him. At least he knew the child could talk.

“Yes, the one with the ducks,” he grumbled, still keeping his eyes closed. He could feel Lucifer wiggle in his arms. He had to push down the urge to let go of him. He didn’t want to deal with him. He’d much rather just put him down and leave. He wanted to go and have that broadcast that he’d been planning on doing that evening. He opened his eyes slowly and met Charlie’s still-horrified gaze. “I’m thinking it would be best to put some clothes on him before we go and find someone who can help us turn him back.”

“What?” Charlie continued. While Alastor knew it was difficult to wrap one’s mind around (he was pretty sure he had just pushed down his own shock enough that he was able to at least function somewhat like normal), he started to feel quite impatient.

“The one we gave you with all the other baby clothes we got for our wedding,” Alastor said. He felt Louisa tighten her grip on his finger. He had a feeling she wanted to comfort him. He didn’t feel particularly comforted. “Well?”

“Give me a moment,” Charlie muttered and ran a hand through her hair. She turned to the other demons. “False alarm,” she told them sheepishly. A disappointed “aww” went thought the assembly, making Alastor clench his jaw. There would never be an alarm. “It’s just dad.”

“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?” Alastor asked dryly.

“I’m two seconds away from a full-on panic attack,” Charlie said through gritted teeth. “You guys just take the rest of the day off,” she told the demons. “I’ve got some things to deal with,” she mumbled and nodded for Alastor to follow her out of the room.

Alastor tried to pack Lucifer back into the coat to keep him out of sight, but the toddler kept pushing the fabric away. “Stop it,” Alastor hissed.

“No,” Lucifer replied defiantly.

Alastor growled, staring down the child with as much fury as he could muster. Lucifer looked too busy trying to keep the coat away from himself to notice.

Alastor gave up. He wrapped the coat around him enough to cover him, but kept his head out in the open so he could look around. He hefted him up so he had one arm more or less free, before he followed Charlie out of the room and into the hallway. He could hear the demons start muttering among themselves. He cleared his throat, staring at them with a warning look. That seemed to do the trick as they all fell silent and lowered their heads.

“If I find out there’s a rumour going around that I have a child, I will slaughter all of you in the most horrific way I know,” he told them with his hand on the doorhandle. “Understood?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the group said in unison.

Alastor nodded to himself and closed the door behind him. He turned to see Charlie wait for him at the end of the hallway, and hurried to catch up with her. She glanced at Lucifer before she shook her head and led the way back towards the elevators.

“What happened, exactly?” Charlie asked while they waited for the elevator doors to open.

“Rebels,” Alastor answered. He could feel Lucifer stare at him, and the more he did, the more annoying it got. He looked down at the child. Lucifer beamed up at him the moment he noticed he’d gotten Alastor’s attention. “The Chameleon to be specific.”

“The one who tried to assassinate you by poisoning you?” Charlie asked as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Alastor followed her inside.

“Yes,” Alastor grumbled. “The one and the same.” He got the severed arm out of his void, making Charlie grimace. “I managed to cut her arm off before she fled.”

“You didn’t have to show me,” Charlie muttered and shuffled a little farther away from him and the arm. He gave her a look, before he rolled his eyes and inspected the arm a little closer. It was covered in green and blue scales.

“Evidence is important, isn’t it?” Alastor asked innocently. He grinned a little wider when she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I apologize,” he huffed. “It was more because I didn’t have time to look at it myself because of a certain idiot.” He looked at Lucifer as he said it. The child stared at the arm curiously. “Do you want a bite, dear?” he asked slyly. Lucifer glanced up at him with a smile, and Alastor had another chilling thought. Lucifer would just do as he said, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t even question it, would he? Not that it was cannibalism for the guy, anyway, but still.

“Don’t feed my dad demon meat,” Charlie chastised him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alastor said, even if he would actually like seeing his partner try it out, one day. It wouldn’t surprise him if he did. Alastor just needed to talk him into it, somehow. “Anyway,” he continued as the doors opened to the floor where Charlie and the rest had their rooms. “The Chameleon hit him with a dart, of some sort. I don’t know what kind of serum was in it, but it turned him into a child.”

Charlie led him to the room she shared with Vaggie and stepped inside. “I hope it’s not permanent,” she said and made her way over to the closet door. Alastor glanced around and put the arm back in his void. He hadn’t been in her room for a long time. Not really since they’d made that deal back before the last extermination. It looked pretty similar to how it had looked back then, with a few adjustments and additions. “Did you want the blue onesie, you said?” Charlie asked from the closet.

“Not personally, but I think he’d appreciate it,” Alastor said and stepped over to one of the windows. He could hear Lucifer breathe. One glance down at him told Alastor that the child enjoyed the view. He wondered what he’d think if he got to check out the view from the radio tower. “This is all yours,” he whispered down at Lucifer, who looked up at him, eyes filled with awe, before he returned his gaze to the city outside.

“Found it!” Charlie announced and came back out of the closet. “I think it’s meant for someone slightly younger, technically, but it’s pretty stretchy.”

“I highly doubt it’s too small,” Alastor scoffed and took it from her. The soft fabric felt nice against his skin. Lucifer noticed the onesie and stared at it. “Do you want to wear this?” he asked, and the child nodded, never looking away from the piece of clothing. “Thought so,” Alastor muttered and followed Charlie into her bathroom. “Here,” he told the princess and held Lucifer out to her.

“What?” she asked.

Alastor huffed. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Charlie looked mildly offended. “And you think I do?” she scoffed.

“I’m not good with children,” Alastor argued. “You really think I should—”

“Al,” Charlie cut him off sternly. “I think this is something you should do, not me. I’m not the one who’s going to take care of him.”

Alastor pursed his lips. He knew she was right. Lucifer had done a lot for him. Even back during that first year on Earth, his husband had made sure to help him cover up his crimes. He’d gotten stabbed trying to find him during the war. He’d taken care of him during the last assassination attempt. It was time for Alastor to repay him.

“Fine,” Alastor muttered. “But I still don’t know how to do it,” he informed her. He placed Lucifer down on the counter beside the sink and placed the onesie beside him. “You just had to play the hero, didn’t you?” he grumbled at Lucifer. The toddler didn’t do anything other than grin up at him. Alastor sighed and started to unwrap the coat. “Really. Of all the things that could happen, it had to be this, hadn’t it?” Had it just been Lucifer being sick, he wouldn’t have been so against it. Had he just gotten leg cut off, then he also wouldn’t have minded as much. But this? This struck a nerve he usually tried his best to bury deep down beneath the darkest parts of his soul.

“Does he need a diaper?” Charlie asked from where she sat on the toilet lid.

Alastor blanched. He didn’t know. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his husband use the toilet. He clearly had. He must’ve used it, right? Or could he just decide not to? It had never been something Alastor had thought about, and never actually thought he would have to think about.

He turned to look at the princess. “Do angels go to the toilet?” he asked.

Charlie stared at him. Alastor stared back. Charlie narrowed her eyes like she didn’t know, either.

“I’m not sure,” Charlie admitted. “But I think they do?”

“You’re married to one,” Alastor pointed out.

“So are you,” Charlie retorted.

“You’re also the daughter of one,” Alastor continued, like he wanted to say that because she had more experience with angels, she should know more about it. She raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed and turned back to Lucifer on the counter. “Okay, you little shit,” Alastor said to the toddler. “I’d rather not have to try and find diapers in Hell, so let’s make a deal, okay?” Lucifer tilted his head. “You don’t soil yourself while you’re like this, and I won’t divorce you.”  

“Daddy!” Lucifer exclaimed, and Alastor had to bite back the screech that wanted to force itself out of his throat. He could feel the air around him vibrate with the amount of energy he had to control.

“That is so wrong on so many levels,” Alastor told the toddler.

Lucifer seemed to understand him as he started to giggle. He wiggled and reached up to him, but Alastor kept himself out of his reach.

“Allistor!” Lucifer complained, like he wanted Alastor to let him grab onto him.

“Not great but better,” Alastor grumbled. “Now, do we have a deal?” He held out his hand, this time, as if to shake on it. Surprisingly, Lucifer seemed to understand how scary it was to make deals, and finally stopped reaching out.

“No.” Lucifer curled his hands away from him.

Alastor grinned and continued to hold out his hand. “It’s just a small deal, darling,” he said sweetly, hoping his partner would just go along with it if he made it seem less severe. The way Lucifer’s lip started to wobble made his heart start hammering in his chest. Oh, how he hated the sound of babies crying. Not because he felt bad, but because it was absolutely awful to listen to. He sighed. “Fine. Let’s say that instead of a divorce, you sleep on the couch for the rest of the year,” he said. Lucifer looked like he considered the option for a moment, before he shook his head. “Why are you being so damned difficult?” Alastor growled. “Okay, a month.”

“He really has you wrapped around his finger,” Charlie commented amusedly from behind him.

“Shut up,” Alastor snapped. “You soil yourself, and you’ll spend a month on the couch. Deal?” he asked the toddler. Lucifer narrowed his eyes, before he got an expression on his face that Alastor couldn’t quite decipher, and reached out his right hand. Alastor grabbed it. A green flash of bright light sealed their deal. His mind stuttered at the tiny fingers curling around his index finger, and he quickly got his hand out of Lucifer’s grip. “Wonderful. Now, let’s get this onesie on you, shall we?”

Lucifer nodded excitedly as Alastor unbuttoned the blue garment. He hadn’t expected Lucifer to be as helpful with it as he was, offering his little hoof so Alastor could put it through the pant leg.

“You’re a natural,” Charlie complimented smugly from her seat on the toilet, and Alastor paused. He could feel his eyes change into radio dials and twisted his neck around to look at her. She didn’t look threatened in the slightest. “What?”

“It’s only because he’s being cooperative,” Alastor grumbled and turned his head back around so he could continue to ease Lucifer’s arm into the onesie. Lucifer kept staring at him, which didn’t even need to be said, to be honest. His eyes were locked onto Alastor like he was incredibly interesting to him, and Alastor didn’t know what to do with that information, other than believe that there was something in his partner that remembered, yet stopped him from behaving like an adult. It felt strange, though. Actually, it felt quite uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t tell that to Lucifer. Especially knowing Lucifer tended to hate making him uncomfortable. “If I find out you’re faking it, I might actually divorce you,” Alastor muttered as he got the second arm into the sleeve and started buttoning up the onesie. He grabbed the fabric and gave it a gentle tug, just to check the stretchiness. It seemed like it fit nicely, so he smiled to himself as he finished the task of putting clothes on his partner.

“Does it fit?” Charlie asked as she stepped over to the two of them. Alastor was about to answer when he saw her phone in his peripheral. He could hear her take a picture of Lucifer and glanced at her. She noticed his questioning look and grinned sheepishly. “Blackmail,” she explained.

Alastor chortled. “Why, I never thought you would stoop as low as blackmail,” he said. “I must say I’m impressed.” He knew she was never going to blackmail her father. She didn’t have it in her (unless it was necessary for the greater good, but given her relationship with her father, she could more or less point at anything she wanted him to do and he’d do it, anyway. Blackmail wasn’t necessary in the slightest). “You’re making me proud,” he continued and picked Lucifer up and let his shadow get rid of the coat. Lucifer immediately latched onto his coat with one hand. He glanced down at the child. “You, however, are not making me proud.”

Lucifer didn’t react to it, which made him wonder just how damaged his brain had gotten from being turned into a toddler. It seemed like he had short moments with a small sense of clarity before he ended up going back to not understanding much of what was going on. He still seemed to recognise both Charlie and himself, at least. It could’ve been a lot worse, he realised.

“Don’t be too harsh on him,” Charlie said and picked Lucifer out of Alastor’s arms. The little devil didn’t seem to like that, and immediately twisted in her arms and reached for Alastor. “Oh, come on, dad,” she scoffed and adjusted her hold on him so he wouldn’t be able to accidentally get out of her grip. “It’s me! Char-Char! Remember?”

Lucifer continued to stretch towards Alastor, who rolled his eyes, sighed and took him back. “This is going to be absolutely atrocious,” he mumbled. If he couldn’t even put the toddler down to do anything, then he would actually just leave him in a room and hope he couldn’t teleport anymore. “Don’t be clingy,” he told Lucifer, who looked too happy to be back in his arms to care.

“What now?” Charlie asked. “Do we know anyone who could help us out with this?”

Alastor picked Lucifer’s phone back out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found someone who could probably help them out. He pressed the call button and put the phone on speaker. Charlie gave him a curious look, most likely because she’d never seen him operate a smartphone. He’d seen his husband use it often enough, which made it pretty easy to figure out.

“Hello? Your Majesty?” Stolas asked from the other end of the line.

“Good afternoon, Stolas,” Alastor said dryly and moved the phone away from Lucifer.

“Hi!” the child squealed, clearly wanting Stolas to hear him, too.

“Hey,” Charlie greeted the prince.

“Okay?” Stolas sounded hesitant, which Alastor could understand. “Can I help you all?”

“Sorry, Stolas,” Charlie said and took the phone from Alastor so he could focus on holding Lucifer. “Are you busy? We’re having a bit of a situation.”

“A situation?” Stolas asked.

“One might say there’s been another assassination attempt,” Alastor drawled. “And a certain king took the hit.” The line was silent, so Alastor kept going. “And might have turned into a literal child.”

The line continued to be silent for a long moment. Alastor saw Charlie check if the prince had hung up on them, but after a moment, they could hear Stolas clear his throat.

“What?”

“Say hi, Lucifer,” Alastor told his partner. Lucifer looked a little shy, all of a sudden. “What are you being shy about? You know Stolas.” Lucifer shook his head. “You said hi to him a moment ago.”

“Wait, that was Lucifer?” Stolas asked incredulously.

“We don’t know how bad it is,” Charlie said. “I mean, if it’s permanent, or if there’s a cure, or something.”

“I’d rather not have to raise my own husband, which, just for the record, sounds insane to me, and I don’t like it,” Alastor stated. Lucifer let out a quiet whine and hid his face in Alastor’s chest. “Well, it’s your fault for thinking you have to save me all the time,” Alastor muttered down at the child. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it hadn’t been for the fact that you got hit with that dart. I’ve seen you pick projectiles out of the air, before, and still you decided—”

“Hey, Al?” Charlie said gently, getting Alastor’s attention. “Maybe don’t chastise him when he doesn’t even know what he did.”

“Oh, I have to disagree on that part. He knows exactly what he did,” Alastor argued.

“Why don’t you come to my place and I’ll check him out for you?” Stolas suggested before Alastor could continue to complain about the situation. “Just to see that he isn’t in any danger. I might have something that could help, even.”

“That would be great,” Charlie said. “We’ll be over in a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll bring the dart and the blowgun,” Alastor informed the prince.

“Wonderful,” Stolas replied. “I’ll see you, then.”

He hung up and Alastor took the phone back from Charlie and put it back in his pocket. Lucifer still hid his face in his chest. Alastor felt a little bad for telling him that he’d done something wrong. He just told him the truth. There were so many ways that he could’ve avoided getting turned into a toddler, and yet his partner had decided to just use himself as a shield.

“I’ll make a portal to his palace,” Charlie said and turned her back on them. Alastor nodded even though she wouldn’t see it, before he leaned his head down towards Lucifer.

“Sorry for yelling at you,” he murmured to the child, who ended up shifting in his arms until he could wrap his little arms around Alastor’s neck in a hug. “You just keep making me worry, you know?”

He could’ve sworn Lucifer mumbled “I know,” into the crook of his neck, but the sound of the portal opening made him discard it as wishful thinking. He walked after Charlie through the rift and into the driveway of Stolas’ palace. The prince opened the door a moment later. He waved for them to get inside. Alastor hurried up the steps and in through the doors. Being outside with Lucifer felt like a bad idea in case someone was out there trying to take a picture of them. He didn’t want, nor need to have a picture of baby Lucifer all over Hell. From how Charlie had reacted, he had a feeling the rest of the demons would think he’d gotten knocked up and was walking around with his own child in his arms.

“I hope you don’t mind that Blitz is here, too,” Stolas said as he closed the door behind them. “We were having a bit of a moment, if you know what I mean.”

“We’re really sorry to interrupt,” Charlie apologised. “But it’s a bit of a crisis, as you can see.” She pointed at where Lucifer was peeking out at the world, still keeping his head firmly pressed against Alastor’s shoulder. He’d started gnawing on his hand.

Stolas glanced at Lucifer and smiled. “It’s quite an adorable crisis, I must say,” he said and held his hand out for Lucifer. “Do you remember me, Your Majesty?” he asked. Lucifer watched him closely, before he quietly reached out his own hand and wrapped it around Stolas’ index finger in greeting. “You’ve gotten yourself into a hairy situation, haven’t you?” he continued softly.

“He has,” Alastor answered. “Do you think you can reverse it?”

“I’ll have to take a look at him, first,” Stolas said and motioned for the them to follow him. “I’m sure I’ve got something written about it. You said he was injected with some serum, was it?”

“Yes,” Alastor confirmed, looking around at the pictures and decorations in the hallways. It reminded him a lot of Lucifer and his own palace. He could feel Lucifer move in his arms to take in the sights. They’d been there on multiple occasions throughout the years they’d been together, and while the interior didn’t change much, Alastor had never really had the time to check it out. They usually just went straight for the dining room or the ballroom, or they ended up with their eyes gone which made it difficult to see much of anything. “I brought the dart as I mentioned,” he told Stolas as they turned a corner.

They made their way past the doors to the dining room and went farther into the palace until they got to a wide staircase. They climbed the stairs and ended up in a much narrower corridor. It looked like the décor got more personal the farther they went. Alastor recognised Stolas’ daughter on a few of the paintings, as well as a few of their little family, including Blitzø. The prince and the assassin had gotten over most of their problems after the war, and while they hadn’t gotten married or moved in together, Alastor knew they cared a great deal about each other.

“It’s just down here,” Stolas said and turned down yet another corridor. He stopped in front of a door and opened it to reveal a dimly lit library full of special-looking books. A fireplace with a couch and a couple of armchairs were placed at the far side of the room. The hooves of the assassin poked up from over the side of one of the chairs.

Alastor felt his interest pique, and started moving towards the bookshelves. He quickly understood they were written in a language he had no idea how to begin to understand, but even without the knowledge needed to read them, they still looked quite intriguing. He glanced down at Lucifer, wondering if maybe his partner would want to teach him some day. He had a feeling it was the language of the ancients, so to speak. It would give him an opportunity to read literature not meant for human souls.

Lucifer let out an interested coo at the sight of the books and reached towards one of them. Alastor reached for it, but paused before he grabbed it and turned to look at Stolas.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” Stolas said and made his way over to the couch. “Would you like some tea?”

“Please,” Alastor replied, feeling like he could definitely need something to calm his nerves. “And possibly some milk for Lucifer.”

Stolas chuckled and used his powers to create some teacups and a glass of milk on the coffee table. A steaming pot of tea joined the rest.

“Hi, Blitz,” Charlie greeted the imp, who sat up straight once she got over to him. “Nice to see you again.”

“Your Highnesses,” Blitz said. “Heard you had some trouble with the big man?”

“The ‘big man’ as you refer to him got even bigger,” Alastor said sarcastically as he pulled the book out of the shelf. Lucifer tried to scoot closer to it, so Alastor brought it closer to him, letting Lucifer grab onto the edges of it. “I do wish I knew what the rebels thought they would accomplish by trying to make me a toddler,” he muttered as he balanced the book in his hand and Lucifer opened it to the first page. It looked like he was reading it, which once again made him wonder what in the world had happened to his mind.

“You?” Blitzø asked.

“Me,” Alastor grumbled. “He pushed me out of the way and got hit himself.”

“Oh, shit,” Blitzø drawled, eyes landing on the child. “Did you get the culprit?”

“I cut her arm off with an angelic weapon,” Alastor informed him, looking at him with a dangerous grin. Blitzø grimaced. “Would you like to see it? I brought it with me.”

“No thanks,” the assassin muttered and reached for the teapot. He poured some tea into the cups.

“If you say so,” Alastor replied and brought Lucifer and the book with him over to the couch. Stolas had grabbed another book from the shelves and had ended up in the other armchair where he flipped through the pages. Alastor sank down beside Charlie and tried to move Lucifer down between them, only for the child to protest and squirm back into his lap. “Really?” he asked.

Lucifer pointed at the book and looked up at Alastor expectantly. Alastor raised an eyebrow at him.

“I think he wants you to read for him,” Charlie huffed and took her teacup from the table.

“I don’t know the language,” Alastor admitted and met Lucifer’s eyes. “I don’t understand what it says,” he told him. It looked like Lucifer was surprised by that. The toddler looked back at the page and furrowed his brow. Alastor could hear him breathe again. He realised it meant he was trying to concentrate or focus.

“Did you have that dart?” Stolas asked Alastor.

“Of course,” Alastor replied and let it spawn from his void. He let Charlie take it and hand it over to the prince, who immediately went to work on trying to figure out what it was. “What do you think it is?”

“Just give me a moment,” Stolas muttered as a purple glow enveloped the dart. He continued to flip through the pages with a frown. Alastor and Charlie waited patiently for him to find whatever it was he was looking for. Stolas hummed and closed the book. “Not this one,” he said to himself and placed the book down on the table.

“’is!” Lucifer exclaimed, getting their attention. The toddler patted the book Alastor was holding for him, before he closed it and tried to push it out of Alastor’s hold. Alastor almost thought he was trying to make him put it down on the table like how Stolas had done with his own book, but after a moment he realised Lucifer thought Stolas should check out the book he was holding. He handed it over, making sure Lucifer didn’t tumble out of his lap. Stolas grabbed the book and flipped it back open, before he went through the pages, scanning each one of them carefully.

“Are you sure he’s not himself?” Stolas asked as he stopped at a page.

“I don’t know what he is,” Alastor scoffed. “I would say he’s pranking me, but he gets a few moments where he’s just too childlike for it to make sense. Then there are these small moments where he seems more like himself. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Well, he found the right book,” Stolas said and continued to read through the page. He placed the dart down on top of the book on the table so he could focus on reading. “I don’t know if it was by accident or if it was because he knew.”

“Looked like the little fucker knew,” Blitzø said as he sipped to his tea. Alastor followed his example and grabbed his own teacup. Lucifer reached up to try and grab it. Alastor lifted it out of his reach, gulped down a good mouthful and placed it back down on the table.

“Language,” Stolas berated his lover, only for Blitzø to roll his eyes.

“I don’t think it matters,” Alastor said and took the glass of milk. He handed it to Lucifer, who grabbed it carefully. Alastor made sure he didn’t drop it. “We live in Hell after all.”

“Still,” Stolas mumbled and let his finger run over the page he was reading. He hummed thoughtfully and glanced up at Lucifer. “May I take a look at him?”

“If he allows it,” Alastor said, picking the glass out of Lucifer’s hands. Lucifer whined and reached for it, but Alastor handed him over to Charlie, who hurried to put her cup down so she could take him and give the child to Stolas, who placed him down in his lap. “Be nice to the prince, please,” Alastor told Lucifer, who looked like he didn’t want to be anywhere near the prince.

“I just have to check you out, little one,” Stolas told Lucifer and placed a glowing finger against Lucifer’s forehead. Lucifer hissed at him, trying to lean back and away from the touch. Alastor was about to ask if Stolas was hurting him when the prince pulled his hand back. “All done,” he said and put Lucifer down on the ground. Lucifer wasted no time pushing himself up on wobbly legs. He walked unsteadily behind the couch and around it, clearly avoiding Charlie, until he got to Alastor’s side.

“You’re just making it more obvious that you’re pranking me, darling,” Alastor grumbled. Lucifer grabbed onto the sofa and tried to pull himself up, only for him to fail. He let out another, frustrated whine and Alastor sighed and grabbed onto the back of his onesie and pulled him up onto the couch cushion beside him. Lucifer crawled right back up onto his lap. “Or not,” he muttered and grabbed the milk when Lucifer pointed at it. He handed it back to the toddler, who once again started to drink it.

“It’s quite an interesting case,” Stolas said and he continued to look at the book. Alastor and Charlie looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “I believe he saved your life,” the prince told Alastor, who felt his heart skip a beat.

“What?” he blurted out.

“The serum is made for sinners,” Stolas told them. “Human souls, specifically. It’s meant to turn back time for the soul it comes in contact with. In some cases, it can be used to wipe the person out of existence by bringing them back to a time before they were born.”

Alastor stared at him. “What.”

“The serum he was injected with had a particularly strong concentration. If you’d been hit by it, you’d be long gone,” Stolas continued to explain. Alastor could feel Charlie and Blitzø glance at him. “Just look at him,” Stolas huffed and gestured towards Lucifer, who was sipping to his glass and kicking his feet. “It looks like it brought him back to the beginning of his existence.”

“Shit,” Charlie uttered.

“But how do you explain the fact that he remembers us?” Alastor asked, feeling a little desperate to disprove that he hadn’t actually been that close to being killed. “Could there be any other reason for it? I didn’t know angels grew up like humans and hellborn do,” he continued. It felt like he was grasping at straws at that point, but he really needed the serum to not be a literal death sentence if it had been Alastor who got hit. He’d thought it just turned him into a toddler and that was it, but apparently not.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that it’s this serum right here,” he said, pointing to the book. “From what I could gauge from Lucifer, I think he’s just been affected by the human part of the serum. It’s meant for human souls, thus turning him into a toddler.” He pursed his lips. “Just a slightly higher concentration and the assassin could’ve wiped the literal devil out of existence.”

If Alastor hadn’t felt bad about this entire situation before, he sure as Hell did now. The fact that he’d not only been mad at his husband for getting in the way—and actually saving his life, without Alastor knowing it, and also almost getting killed himself. If Lucifer had been hit with another dart, he wouldn’t be there. Alastor would have lost him.

He felt himself grab onto the child on his lap a little tighter.

“So, he was never a toddler?” Charlie asked, glancing at Lucifer.

“No, I don’t think so,” Stolas said. “The creation of angels works differently from what it does for us others.” Alastor swallowed thickly, thinking back to white fog drifting by his feet, the smell of ozone, the coolness against his skin, the sound of his friend screaming for him, the smile of a lamb and falling through the clouds—“He’s looked like what he usually does from the day he was created, except, of course, his more demonic features.” The prince huffed to himself. “The serum was never meant for angels, and I guess one of the side-effects was bringing him down a few extra sizes.”

Alastor snorted. “Good one.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Lucifer snapped.

Alastor tilted his head down slowly to look at him. Stolas stared at the child. So did Charlie and Blitzø. Lucifer frowned, blinked and looked down at the glass in his hands, before he brought one of his hands up to inspect it. He stared at it, eyes widening as he clenched and unclenched his fingers.

“Oh, no,” Lucifer whispered. “Nu-nu-nu-no,” he continued, dropping the glass. Alastor managed to catch it before it spilled all over the two of them. “This isn’t happening.” He glanced around at the other four. “What the fuck is going on?” he asked.

“Lucifer?” Alastor asked hesitantly.

“Astonishing,” Stolas said and got up from his seat.

“I asked a fucking question!” Lucifer exclaimed pointing up at Alastor. “What happened?!”

Alastor furrowed his brow. “You don’t remember?”

“Would I fucking ask if I did?” Lucifer snapped. His voice was still a child’s, which made it all sound especially strange. “Now, tell me before I—” He froze, pupils growing wide before he blinked and met Alastor’s eyes. He let out a squeal and reached up to him, giggling and grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“What the fuck just happened?” Blitzø questioned as Stolas stepped over to where Lucifer was still giggling and reaching for Alastor, who grabbed onto his face.

“Stop pretending, you little shit,” Alastor hissed at Lucifer. The toddler grabbed onto Alastor’s hands and laughed.

“I don’t think he is,” Stolas muttered and crouched down beside the two of them. Alastor took Lucifer’s hands and held him still as Stolas once again touched Lucifer’s forehead. “It looks to me like his powers are trying to fight off the serum. Like antibodies, in a way.” Lucifer leaned away from Stolas’ hand. “Fascinating.” The prince met Alastor’s gaze. The seriousness in his expression told him how big of a deal it was. “That could explain why he’s sometimes more aware than usual.”

“Does that mean he’ll have sudden moments of complete clarity like what just happened?” Alastor asked. He didn’t know if he liked that. It would just make it more complicated to take care of him (or easier, actually, from how he’d been behaving after he’d gotten injected.”

“If he’s fighting off the serum on his own, yes,” Stolas replied, looking back down at the child in Alastor’s lap. “Sudden moments of clarity,” he muttered. “If his body is fighting it off, then he should be able to get rid of it by himself. No need for a cure,” he informed them. He brushed a hair away from Lucifer’s face, who grinned at him. Stolas grinned back, making Lucifer let out an excited giggle. “He might be back to himself in a few days at the most. The moments could happen more often, or with longer episodes at a time the more of the serum he manages to get rid of,” Stolas muttered and patted Lucifer’s head before he got back to his feet.

“What do I do in the meantime?” Alastor asked.

Stolas smiled down at him. “Well, you take care of him, of course,” the prince said kindly.

Ah. Well.

Fuck. 

(I have a lot of drawings of him colored by my friend, but because it was from before I was getting better at drawing him, I'm keeping those for the gallery XD)

Chapter Text

“I don’t have time to take care of him,” Alastor scoffed. “I have a meeting with the overlords tomorrow, and because Lucifer decided to save me by getting turned into this, I have to take care of his damned meeting with the sins in the morning, too. I can’t take care of a child!”

Stolas, the bastard, smiled a little wider. “Welcome to parenting,” he said simply, which wasn’t something Alastor wanted to hear. “I’m sure you have someone who can look after him while you’re having your meetings?”

“Yeah, Al,” Charlie piped up beside him. “We can look after him tomorrow. I have a couple of programs, but I’m pretty sure Angel and Husk won’t mind being babysitters.”

Even if the two sinners didn’t mind being babysitters, Alastor felt himself mind it. If this somehow impacted how Lucifer acted when he went back to normal, he didn’t know what he’d do. Did Angel and Husk even know how to take care of a child? Or, even worse, the actual devil who had turned into a child? Did Alastor know? No, he didn’t, which wasn’t good. However, Alastor had the advantage of knowing Lucifer pretty well at that point, and it also seemed that Lucifer had decided to be clingy, which could potentially be problematic if Alastor actually did end up leaving him alone with someone he didn’t know that well.

“I wouldn’t leave him alone with those two nitwits if they were the last people left in Hell,” Alastor grumbled and looked down at the toddler in his lap. Lucifer looked completely gone, again. His eyes were still looking around and taking in everything, but there wasn’t any recognition in them, like the moment of clarity he’d had earlier had taken too much energy from him and needed a moment to recuperate before it could happen again.

“What if Vaggie helps them out?” Charlie asked.

Alastor looked at her. “That would be better, but I really have a feeling he’s going to be problematic without one of us there,” he replied thoughtfully. He grimaced. “Or me I believe, given how he’s been acting.”

“I’m sure he’ll behave,” Charlie brushed him off with a grin. “Right dad?”

Lucifer gurgled on the milk.

“The amount of faith I have in his behaviour just skyrocketed,” Alastor said dryly and took the glass of milk out of his partner’s hands. “He’s going to be a menace if I know him right.”

“I’m sure he’ll be an angel,” Stolas huffed, clearly having the same impression.

“A fallen one,” Alastor added and sighed. He put the glass down on the table. “I’ll figure something out,” he muttered, grabbed Lucifer and got to his feet. “Thank you for the help, Stolas. I would ask you for some parenting advice, but I believe you were otherwise engaged?”

Stolas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m sure I can take a call or two during the evening if you need some help,” he said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alastor said and turned to look at Blitzø. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a look at that arm? Maybe you’ll be able to find the rest of the Chameleon?”

Blitzø blinked at him and sat up a little straighter. “Oh,” he uttered. “I thought you were threatening me or something. Fuck yeah, I want to see it. Hand it over, Your Highness,” he said with a grin. Alastor rolled his eyes and brought the arm out of his void and tossed it over to the assassin, who grabbed it casually out of the air. Lucifer let out an impressed squee and clapped. “That’s one clean cut.”

“Angelic swords tend to be sharp,” Alastor said with a tilt of his head, making the imp look like he was trying to figure out if that, too, was a threat or not. “Inform me if you find her.”

“Will do,” Blitzø promised, using the severed arm to give him a mock salute.

“I’ll follow you out,” Stolas said.

“No need,” Alastor told him. “Enjoy your evening.” He looked down at Lucifer, who met his gaze. “What do we say when we leave?”

Lucifer kicked his feet with a wide grin, like he understood nothing of what Alastor had just said. He looked like he was just happy Alastor was looking at him, which didn’t help with Alastor’s exasperation.

“Bye, Stolas,” Charlie said, giving Alastor a smirk.

“At least one of your kids knows how to say farewell,” the prince quipped. Charlie beamed at him. Alastor was a lot less amused by the comment. He gave him a warning look as he stepped past him and made his way over to the door. He opened it and let Charlie step out before he followed her.

“Thank you for the tea,” Alastor said, catching a glimpse of a chuckling Stolas as he closed the door behind him.

“So, dad,” Charlie started.

“Don’t you dare,” Alastor interrupted her and started making his way back towards the entrance to the palace. “I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment. I don’t need more headaches.”

Charlie smiled apologetically. “Sorry,” she muttered. “What are you planning on doing, now?” she asked as they got to the staircase. “I mean, I have another program in about an hour, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you out with him.”

“That’s alright,” Alastor said, adjusting his grip on Lucifer, who looked like he was starting to recognise more, again. Not a lot, of course, but there was at least something behind his eyes. More understanding, if Alastor was right. “I’m thinking of bringing him with me over to Rosie. I’m sure she has some good advice to give.”

“I didn’t know Rosie had a child?”

“She doesn’t, but she deals with new demons all the time,” Alastor replied. Rosie was also the one person he trusted enough to help him out with just about anything, and while she might not have too much experience with a literal child, she’d taken care of a lot of new sinners in Hell, which could be slightly similar to raising a child. At least, he assumed it was. Actually, probably not, but either way, he wanted to talk to her about the entire thing, just to get an outlet for his own frustration. “I also think she would refuse to talk to me if she found out about Lucifer’s predicament and not getting to see it herself.”

“That makes more sense,” Charlie huffed.

They got to the main entrance to Stolas’ palace. Charlie opened the door for them and closed it behind her. Alastor looked around, trying to see if there were anyone else around, but he couldn’t see anyone. He couldn’t feel any cameras, either.

“I’ll see you two later, then,” Charlie said and ruffled Lucifer’s hair, much to the toddler’s irritation. He let out an angered babble, waving his arms to try and make her stop. Charlie snickered and pulled her hand back. Lucifer ended up holding his hair and glaring at her. “Sorry, dad,” she said and glanced at Alastor. “Just call me if something happens.”

“I hope nothing will,” Alastor told her. She shrugged and opened a portal back to the hotel. “I’ll come back to the hotel in a few hours at the most.”

Charlie paused in front of the portal, before she turned to him with a hopeful smile. “Are you staying with us until he’s back to normal?” she asked, and once again Alastor realised he hadn’t really been staying at the hotel for over half a year. He’d been staying at the palace with Lucifer. They’d thought about staying at the hotel more, but because of all that had happened, and with a lot of the meetings they usually had at the palace, they just stayed there.

Alastor smiled back at her. “Of course,” he said. “I’d rather not end up alone with him while he’s like this. I’m not joking when I say I shouldn’t be left in charge of a child.”

Charlie snorted and stepped through. “Well, your rooms are still there. It’ll be fun.”

“You’re taking this entire thing better than I thought you would,” Alastor said. “Given your father almost getting himself killed again.”

Charlie looked between the two of them. A sad smile settled on her lips as she shrugged, again.

“I’ve lost you both once, already,” she told him. “You’re both still here, right now, and while I know it was a close call, I also know you’re fine.” She gestured to Lucifer. “I know he’s going to be back to normal in not too long. That’s all I need to know.” She grinned cheekily. “I’m also freaking the fuck out, but I have things to do, so…” She winked at him and waved at her father. “Bye dad. Al,” she said and closed the portal, leaving only Alastor and Lucifer in front of Stolas’ palace.

Alastor sighed and looked down at Lucifer. His partner was staring at the spot where Charlie had just been. He pointed at it.

“Yes, she can do that,” Alastor said. “You saw her do it earlier, too.”

Lucifer shook his head.

“You did.”

Lucifer blinked up at him, frowning, before he gasped in awe. Then he pointed at Alastor, like he wanted him to do the same thing.

“I travel in a different way,” he said with a grin, letting the two of them drop into his shadow. He could hear Lucifer let out a shriek just before they entered his void.

He let his shadow bring them away from Stolas’ palace. He headed straight for Cannibal Town, hoping Rosie was free. He needed to talk to her, and from Charlie’s initial reaction to her father, he had this awful feeling that more people would get the wrong idea of who, exactly, the toddler was if they saw him. If her emporium was filled with people, it could potentially be pretty problematic.

It only took a few minutes to speed through Pentagram City. The streets outside the emporium looked mostly deserted. A few cannibals made their way down the sidewalks, but not enough that Alastor was worried. So, he reemerged from his shadow and adjusted his grip on his giggling partner, before he stepped up the few steps to the front door of the emporium. He stepped inside and heard the bell ding.

“We’re closed,” Rosie said from her little kitchen area at the back.

Well, wasn’t that perfect?

“It’s just me,” he called out. “I need some assistance.”

There was a short pause before heard Rosie’s footsteps. A moment later, she peeked out at him with a grin. The grin immediately vanished when she spotted Lucifer.

“Oh, my lord,” she blurted out.

Alastor got a flashback to when Charlie had reacted the same way. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“So, that’s not Lucifer?” Rosie exclaimed in horror.

“No, it—”

“What?!” Rosie was in front of them in less than a second while Alastor cursed himself for not formulating himself better. “I can’t believe I trusted that little shit to keep his hands off of ya,” she snarled, making Lucifer lean away from her. He let out a quiet whimper.

Damn it. “No, I mean—”

“Alastor?”

Alastor’s eyes snapped over to where yet another person came out from the back. In some ways, he was relieved to see his own mother stand there in Rosie’s Emporium. It would be a lot easier to get some advice from her, at least. However, with Rosie now mistaking Lucifer for his own kid, he started to regret going there.

“Manman?” Alastor said, because, again, he seemed to be completely out of it.

Rosalie’s eyes fell to the toddler in his arms. She sucked in a soft breath and hurried over to them.

“Who’s this, now, then?” she asked gently, getting Lucifer’s attention. His expression softened at her tone of voice. Another rush of relief went through Alastor.

Lucifer started looking a little shy, again, turning towards Alastor. He glanced up at him, before he turned back to his mother-in-law and held out his right hand, like he remembered the handshake he’d shared with Stolas. Rosalie took his hand carefully. Lucifer looked properly bashful, this time, turning his head away.

“Luci,” Lucifer introduced himself quietly. Alright, Alastor thought. He was remembering more, again. He smiled down at his partner before he glanced up and met Rosie’s eyes. She deflated and glared at him.

“I can’t believe you let me think it wasn’t Lucifer,” she grumbled.

Alastor raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her. “You didn’t let me speak.”

“Does he remember us?” Rosalie asked, grinning at the toddler. Lucifer smiled back.

“I haven’t the faintest,” Alastor told them honestly. “His mind seems to come and go in waves.  He gets back to himself for a few seconds, and then he becomes a mindless toddler, again.”

“What happened to him?” Rosie asked, and nodded for him to follow her into the back. “He’s not pranking you, is he?”

Alastor sighed deeply and waited for his mother to let go of his partner, before he went after her between the shelves and into the small area with the coffee table and the two armchairs. Rosalie joined them and sat back down in her seat while Rosie got another teacup from her cupboards. She placed the cup on the coffee table and got another chair for Alastor. He thanked her and slumped down into the seat.

“He saved my life by jumping in front of a dart filled with some serum that supposedly turns whoever gets injected with it younger,” he told them, bouncing his legs to cheer the child up. It seemed to work as Lucifer let out another giggle. “It would’ve wiped me out of existence if he hadn’t taken the hit.” Rosie and Rosalie stared at him, before they looked down at the de-aged devil. “He almost got killed himself, apparently,” Alastor added.

“That’s not good,” Rosie muttered.

“Hopefully the assassin won’t be coming after us again until her wound heals,” Alastor grumbled, keeping his eyes on his partner, who looked annoyed when he stopped bouncing him. “She’s the one who poisoned me a few months ago.”

“You need to get rid of her, darlin’,” Rosie huffed and grabbed her teacup.

“She’s as slippery as an eel, I’m afraid,” Alastor replied and leaned forward to get his own cup. Lucifer grabbed onto his hair in the process. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Lucifer was a regular toddler. Alastor would just get his hair free and that would be it. But, as Alastor got to find out, Lucifer still had quite a bit of power in him. Alastor’s static crackled when the toddler yanked his head down. “If you don’t let go of me, right now,” he growled through gritted teeth, turning his head enough to see Lucifer’s narrow-eyed stare.

“He’s a strong one,” Rosalie commented.

“Lucifer,” Alastor warned the child, grabbing onto his hand to try and pry his fingers open. They didn’t budge. “I’m one second away from biting your head off,” Alastor continued to threaten him, hoping his partner had enough sense to let go of him. “Oh, you don’t think I’m serious?” Alastor asked when he saw the sly smile on Lucifer’s face. He opened his maw, grin widening to show him every single sharp tooth in his mouth. The toddler’s eyes widened as Alastor leaned over him.

“Don’t scare him,” Rosie scoffed.

“He’s not scared,” Alastor argued, looking down just to make sure he wasn’t actually scaring him. Lucifer looked anything but scared. It also worked. The hand let go of Alastor’s hair, only to rest gently against his cheek instead. “See?” He met Lucifer’s eyes. “Now, why don’t you go and play while us adults talk?”

“Old,” Lucifer claimed and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you’re older than everyone in this room, but you’re acting like a toddler,” Alastor told him. He picked him up and placed him down on the floor. Lucifer grabbed onto his knee and tried to climb back up. Alastor kept a hand on his shoulder to block him and fished Lucifer’s phone out of his pocket. “Here. Just take this and have fun.”

“Ooh!” Lucifer grabbed the device and flopped down on the floor beside Alastor.

Rosie and Rosalie gave him disapproving looks as they sipped to their tea.

“Oh, please,” Alastor grumbled. “I don’t think he’s able to unlock it. Worst case he takes a few pictures of himself,” he told them, finally able to grab his teacup without having to deal with a toddler sitting in the way. “Anyway, where was I?” he continued.

“The assassin,” Rosie reminded him.

“Yes, right,” he muttered, and let out another sigh. “We’ve been trying to find her since her previous attempt at my life. It looks like she did some more research this time, at least.”

“I do hope you’re being careful,” Rosalie said quietly. “I’d rather not lose my son right after I finally got him back.”

Alastor cleared his throat. They hadn’t been that careful. He hadn’t even thought about the Chameleon since about a week after he got back to normal after getting poisoned. Not only had he more or less forgotten about her, but he hadn’t really changed the amount of security around the two of them, either. It was like they’d both just shrugged it off and continued on as usual. He really had to talk to Lucifer about it, properly, this time. He’d rather not end up dying for a third time just because he was being careless.

“We’ll up security from now on, I think,” Alastor said, checking on Lucifer as the child tapped the screen. The look of concentration was pretty amusing, if Alastor was being—It wasn’t. It wasn’t amusing, it was irritating. Frustrating. “Well, either way, he’s stuck like this for a few days at the most, according to Stolas. At least we didn’t have to worry about finding a cure.”

“Well, that’s good,” Rosie huffed.

“Ducktuctuc,” Lucifer breathed from the floor.

Alastor ignored him and leaned back in his seat. “Still, I have no idea what to do with him while we wait for him to fight it off,” he told them. “I’m not good with kids.”

“You seem pretty good with him,” Rosie pointed out.

“He’s behaving,” Alastor retorted. “I don’t know what would happen if he—”

“What the fuck?” a voice said. “Lucifer?”

Alastor knew that voice. He twisted his head around with a crack to see Lucifer stare down at the phone in his hands. He breathed heavily for a few moments before a smile stretched across his cheeks like he recognised the voice, too.

“Any!” the toddler exclaimed.

“Oh, for the love of—” Alastor snarled and snatched the phone out of Lucifer’s hands. “Give me that.”

“No!” Lucifer protested, trying to take it back. He wasn’t fast enough, nor did he have long enough arms to reach it, of course, so Alastor quickly got it away from him. “Al!”

“Al?” Andy asked from the phone. Alastor glanced down at the screen and saw that the camera was on. He struggled not to glitch as he met eyes with the detective that had let them join in on his investigation to find the copycat that had been copying Alastor’s old kills. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alastor told him and glanced up at Rosie and Rosalie who gave him curious looks. He felt Lucifer stumble into his leg and start hitting him. He hissed in pain at a particularly hard hit and grabbed the toddler by the back of his onesie and lifted him up. Lucifer continued to flail, trying to make him drop him. “Lucifer,” he snapped at the toddler, whose eyes started glowing red. “Oh, great,” he grumbled as two, small horns split through Lucifer’s skin. The little devil growled like a feral animal.

“You don’t sound fine,” Andy continued.

“I’m doing absolutely wonderful, actually,” Alastor bit out and kept Lucifer away from him as fire burst between Lucifer’s lips. “My husband decided to be heroic, and now I’m the one who has to deal with it,” he explained and tilted the phone so Andy could see the raging toddler in his other hand. “Look, darling! It’s the detective!”

Lucifer stopped flailing, eyes fading back to his golden irises and red sclarea. He looked at the phone screen. The horns started to retract as he reached for the phone with an irritated grunt.

Alastor sighed and looked at the screen where Andy looked like he was two seconds away from hanging up. “Do you mind looking after him for a moment?” he asked.

“What do you mean ‘look after him’?” Andy asked hesitantly.

“Just keep him busy for a moment,” Alastor clarified.

Andy grimaced. “I mean, I’m kinda in the middle of something.” He turned the phone so Alastor and Lucifer could see the him sitting in one of the cruisers. “Wince, say hi,” Andy said and revealed Winston sitting beside him, driving the car.

“Do you want me to crash?” Winston scoffed.

“Winston says hi,” Andy huffed and turned the camera back to himself. “What do you expect me to do? I can’t exactly stop him from doing anything.”

“He thinks you’re funny to look at,” Alastor said and handed the phone back to Lucifer. The toddler grinned and grabbed the device, letting Alastor lower him back down to the floor. Lucifer sat down and kept the phone in his lap. “Just pretend you’re one of those fellows who run around filming themselves and put it on the internet.”

Lucifer looked up at Alastor. “Thank you,” he said gently and turned back to Andy on the phone. “Now, give me details. How’s the case going?”

“What!?”

“Ihihiii!” Lucifer giggled and started shaking the phone.

Alastor plucked it back out from his grip. The fact that Lucifer didn’t protest like he’d done earlier only made him sure that he was back to a slightly mindless toddler. Another reset. It seemed slightly sorter than last time, which Alastor’s mind told him was concerning. He refused to think anything was wrong with it, though. Stolas had said that the episodes could be more frequent or far between with a longer duration. Nothing said it couldn’t be both.

“What the fuck was that?” Andy asked. From the looks of Rosalie and Rosie, they hadn’t expected the episodes to be that clear-minded.

“He has some moments of clarity,” Alastor explained quickly. “I think it’s best if I hang up. It was nice seeing you, detective. Good luck with the case.”

Andy frowned. “Thanks?” Alastor was about to hang up when he let out a quick, “Wait!” Alastor raised an eyebrow at him. “Are we still up for next week?”

Alastor blinked at him, before he glanced down at Lucifer grinning at the two women in front of him. “If he’s back to normal, yes,” he muttered. Lucifer looked up at him with another giggle and started crawling towards him.

“Nice,” Andy muttered. “I’ll see you then. Please take a few pictures of him. I need blackmail material.”

Alastor scoffed, wondering why everyone wanted blackmail material on his partner all of a sudden. “I don’t recommend having blackmail material on the devil, but I’m sure I’ll be able to figure something out.” Andy looked pleased with that. Lucifer looked completely indifferent as he pushed himself up on his feet and wobbled over to his leg and latched onto it. “I’ll get Charlie to send you some photos,” he promised and hung up on the chuckling detective, before he placed the phone back in his pocket. He saw the curious looks on the two women and grabbed his teacup. He took a sip. “That’s the last time I give him his phone,” he muttered, feeling the toddler hug his leg. His shoulders tensed up for a moment, before he heard happy babbling from the child and he knew he wouldn’t suddenly end up with a broken leg.

“Going back to Earth?” Rosalie inquired.

“We promised the detective to help him out with a bit of a difficult case,” Alastor told them. He’d brought his mother back to New Orleans pretty soon after Lucifer had showed him the vacation house. The two of them had ended up strolling around the city and reminiscing about all the little nooks and hideouts that were either still there or had been gone for a long time. “He’s coming over for dinner.”

“How lovely,” his mother said pleasantly. “Good to know you’re making friends.”

Alastor wanted to tell her that he wasn’t, but, well, first of all, it would sound like he was just denying it like an awkward teenager given who he was speaking to, and secondly, he had actually grown quite fond of the detective after the copycat case. He’d even brought his saxophone over, once. A human friend wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d have. Mostly because he didn’t have that many when he was still alive.

“He’s alright,” Alastor muttered, before he glanced down at Lucifer. The toddler continued to look mostly clueless. “Now, what am I going to do with this one?” he asked and lifted his leg up slightly. Lucifer grabbed on tighter and let out a happy, little squeal.

“You’re already doing great, mon doux,” Rosalie told him.

“Al’s a natural dealin’ with children,” Rosie said with a smirk.

“She wasn’t even a child when I made that deal,” Alastor replied grumpily. “It doesn’t matter. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with him.” He lifted his leg up and crossed it over the other, feeling Lucifer clinging to the side of it, refusing to let go. He sipped his tea. “It seems horribly boring to just sit around looking after him all day. I was supposed to have a broadcast this evening.”

“You can still have your broadcast,” Rosie huffed. “He won’t do anythin’.”

“He’s going to run around and make noise unless I tie him to a chair and gag him,” Alastor muttered, placing his teacup back on the saucer. He wondered if the toddler would ever let go of his leg. It didn’t look like it. Even Lucifer looked a little surprised that he was able to hold on for that long, given his struggles getting up anywhere else. “I’ll postpone the show until he’s back to normal,” he decided.

“Well, if you think you need some assistance, I’m free for the rest of the day,” Rosalie said. The offer made Alastor feel an instant sense of calm. His mother knew what to do. She’d always been good to him when he was a child, and while they were still getting to know one another again after so many years apart, he felt like having her by his side would help with the amount of stress he felt. Just knowing she offered to help had relaxed him. She seemed to notice. “That settles it,” she stated. “Why don’t we make some dinner and we’ll see what happens?”

“That sounds perfect,” Alastor replied and turned to Rosie. “You’re free to join us, if you’d like?”

Rosie grinned. “Thank you, but I have quite a few things to attend to before the meeting tomorrow. I’ll let the two of you enjoy yourselves.”

“If you say so,” Alastor muttered and placed his empty cup down on the coffee table. “I think we’ll swing by Phil on the way back to the hotel.”

“Phil!” Lucifer exclaimed. His voice was strained where he was still holding onto Alastor’s leg.

“Yes, you and Phil are good friends, aren’t you?” Alastor said and gave Lucifer a small push so he ended up sitting on his shoe instead of hanging on the side of his leg. Lucifer looked like he enjoyed that a lot more. The toddler giggled and leaned back a little, holding onto Alastor’s pant leg to keep himself from tumbling off. Knowing how good Lucifer’s balance usually was, seeing him this unsteady didn’t feel right. The thought settled in the pit of his stomach together with every other thought he didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

Lucifer looked excited to get to see the butcher, and it hit Alastor that he was getting more like himself again. Bubbly and joyful, and just enjoying himself. Worry-free, Alastor realised as he sat there, staring at the child-version of his husband, which, when he thought about it wasn’t quite like the Lucifer he knew. No, the king had responsibilities. He had concerns. He had stressors and strains that never seemed to go away. Even while he was relaxing, he couldn’t relax completely. There was always something to worry about. Something to take care of. Something to plan. Something to do. Something that hung over him like a cloud that never fully went away.

They’d been dealing with the aftermath of a war for years. They were waiting for ‘the big one’ as they kept calling it. They knew rebels were planning something. They knew they were going to have to deal with that in the near future. Lucifer knew he had to deal with it, because they were, as everything else in Hell, his responsibility. He always had the last word, no matter what it was that should be decided.

And there he sat on Alastor’s leg. A happy, bouncing boy without a single thought of war, death, destruction, chaos, grief, responsibility…

A part of Alastor wanted his husband back. Oh, how he didn’t want to deal with this damned situation. Children, in Alastor’s opinion, were just awful. Whiny, problematic and loud. Mostly useless. He didn’t care for them. He didn’t want to spend time with them. He preferred them as far away from him as possible. He didn’t want to hurt—

Lucifer sat there, grinning like a fool that had never heard about the strains of life before and who’d never experienced a single, negative thing other than getting his entertainment taken away from him.

He deserved a break, didn’t he? He deserved a break from it all. Moments of blissful unawareness where he didn’t have an entire realm to take care of. Moments where he didn’t remember falling to damnation, experiencing excruciating pain that couldn’t be compared to anything.

Lucifer smiled at him.

Alastor reached out and picked him up, placing him back in his lap. The toddler tilted sideways until he leaned against his torso. Alastor glanced down at him and brushed a stray hair away from his face. Lucifer leaned into the touch.

“Aw,” Rosie cooed.

“Shut up,” Alastor grumbled, resting a hand on Lucifer’s back just to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. He had so many questions that he didn’t know where to start. Childcare wasn’t something he knew how to do, and it wasn’t even something he wanted to learn in the first place. He guessed it could have been a good thing to know, just in case something like this happened. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted.

“No one does in the beginning,” Rosalie assured him. “We just try our best and hope it works out.” Alastor pursed his lips. He had a feeling him ‘trying’ would end up with Lucifer either fatally wounded or worse. Rosalie glanced at the toddler. “Do you know more or less how old he is?”

Alastor shook his head. “I don’t,” he said. “Angels aren’t even supposed to be toddlers. They just start out looking like they’re adults, apparently.” Another shudder threatened to go down his spine at the thought of that cold, cloudy place above. He shoved it away. “Look,” he muttered. “I don’t know where to start. I don’t know what he needs. I don’t know what he should be doing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Do I just sit around and look at him? That sounds incredibly dull.”

“Maybe he’ll do somethin’ funny?” Rosie suggested.

“He’ll probably set something on fire,” Alastor retorted. “That could be fun, actually.” He looked down at Lucifer. “Do you want to go set someone on fire?”

The devilish grin he got in return told him everything he needed to know.

“I don’t think people are gonna to be too happy about that one,” Rosie drawled, reminding Alastor about the fact that the two of them still had a reputation to uphold. Setting people randomly on fire didn’t exactly scream ‘royalty’. Well, demonic royalty could probably do that without getting too much backlash.

“Then I don’t know what fun a toddler could have,” Alastor replied and looked to his mother for advice. “I should technically be preparing for the meeting with the sins, as well as the one with the overlords,” he informed her.

“I’ll take care of the meeting with the overlords,” Rosie huffed. “It’s nothing special.”

“We’re supposed to discuss the rebels,” Alastor reminded her. “And what we can do to find them and stop them before they ruin the fragile connection we have between the realms. We can’t waste time we don’t have to begin with.”

“The rebels are gonna mobilize anyway,” Rosie argued. “I’ve been an overlord for longer than you have been, my dear. You’re not even gonna be the one in charge of the meetin’. Just go and take care of that little doll, and I’ll take care of the preparations.”

Alastor stared at her for a moment, before he deflated and gave her a thankful smile. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“And I’ll help you with him,” Rosalie said and nodded at the child. “We’ll have a fun evening, won’t we, Luci?” Lucifer nodded with a wide grin. Alastor guessed that was better than nothing. “Why don’t we let Rosie have some time to prepare for that meeting, and we’ll bring you and Alastor back to the hotel so we can make something to eat, and then you can have some fun?”

“Fun!” Lucifer said excitedly and started moving. Alastor was happy he’d kept a hand on his back, feeling him lose his balance. He managed to keep the impatient toddler from falling backwards. Lucifer looked up at Alastor expectantly.

Alastor sighed. “I guess we’re leaving,” he said, grabbed Lucifer and stood. “Thank you for the tea, Rosie,” he continued, feeling Lucifer start trying to climb up his jacket. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Fun,” Lucifer stated, gripping his shoulder and pulling himself up. Alastor let out an exasperated grumble as Lucifer once again grabbed his hair. “Fun, fun, fun,” Lucifer continued, sounding like he was singing a little tune to himself. Alastor rolled his eyes and grabbed onto him, helping him up on his shoulders. He could hear him laugh as he settled his little legs on each side of his neck. “Ihihi,” he laughed and continued to kick his feet. Alastor grabbed onto his hooves to keep him from accidentally kicking him in the face (and to keep him from falling, but mostly because of the kicking), and felt his hands grab onto his ears.  

“No,” he said. Lucifer changed his grip so he was holding onto his antlers instead. “Better,” he grumbled and glanced at the two women. “Not a word.”

“You’re making it difficult,” Rosie scoffed and got out of her seat. She walked over to them and poked Lucifer’s side, making the kid squeal straight into Alastor’s ear. His ear flickered backwards, hitting his partner making him continue to laugh. “Oh, he’s ticklish!” Rosie exclaimed.

“No!” Lucifer yelled, batting at her as he clung onto Alastor’s antler with his free hand. “Stop it,” Lucifer demanded through his laughter. Rosie snickered and wormed a finger under his chin, making the toddler raise his shoulder, effectively trapping her.

Rosie chuckled and waited for him to let her go. When he did, she grinned up at him with a soft smile and poked the spot between the eyes where a nose would’ve been if he had one.

“Now, I hope you’ll behave for our dear friend, won’t ya?” she asked Lucifer. Alastor couldn’t see him, but the silence made him start worrying that he actually had plans to make his afterlife a living Hell—Okay, it already was Hell, but the point was that Lucifer had a tendency to be a little shit on a regular basis, and now he was even littler, which couldn’t be good. This was just the beginning. “Oh, you don’t want the tickle monster to get you, do ya?”

Alastor could hear Lucifer suck in a sharp breath. “’Ickle monster?” he whispered.

“Oh, yes,” Rosie told him seriously, glancing at Alastor to make sure he would play along. Alastor smirked at her. “The tickle monster sneaks up on every little creature who doesn’t behave nicely with those who’re takin’ care of ‘em.” She lowered her voice. “It can smell it,” she whispered conspiratorially. “And when it smells someone not behavin’, it will start followin’ the trail until it finds the misbehavin’ creature. And then it waits.” She leaned a little closer. Lucifer sat frozen. Alastor could hear his breath hitch in his throat. “And waits,” she continued. Alastor grinned wider as he let one of his shadows snake its way up from the ground behind Lucifer. “And waits,” Rosie murmured, so low that Lucifer leaned in to hear her. “Before it strikes!” the overlord yelled just as the tentacle tickled Lucifer’s side, making the child scream.

The headache was worth it. Alastor continued to hold onto the kicking hooves of his partner, who desperately tried to wiggle out of his grip. He continued to laugh through the screaming, but the moment Lucifer told Alastor to stop, he did. Lucifer held onto his antlers, panting and giggling as he buried his face in Alastor’s hair. Alastor snorted and patted his leg.

“What happened to not scaring him?” Rosalie huffed as she grabbed her purse from the floor behind her chair.

“Just a small precaution,” Rosie replied. “We don’t joke about the tickle monster, now, do we, Lucifer?”

“No,” Lucifer muttered, voice muffled.

“Great,” Rosie said with a grin and turned to Alastor. “I’m sure Alastor will keep you safe, though.”

“Of course,” Alastor said. “I’ll fight of that damned monster with everything I’ve got. Though, it’s not so easy to spot. It’s invisible to everyone else, so I might not see it in time.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” Rosalie tutted and stepped past them.

Alastor scoffed and followed her towards the exit. “He’s an old boy. He can take it.” His mother gave him a doubtful glance, and Alastor sighed. “Fine,” he muttered, and tapped Lucifer’s knee. “I won’t let it get you, but it makes it easier if you try and behave at least a little bit.”

“Okay,” Lucifer mumbled into his hair.

“Splendid,” Alastor said and stopped in front of the entrance to the emporium. He turned to see Rosie step up behind them. “I believe I’ll meet you tomorrow, then? I’ll try my best to get some time to prepare for the meeting with the overlords, too, but if not…”

“I’ll give you a few pointers,” Rosie waved him off. “Now, go take care of that husband of yours.” She turned to Rosalie. “We’ll continue this some other day when you’ve got the time for it, won’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Rosalie agreed and walked over to her, giving her a quick hug. “I’ll see you soon, then,” she said and made her way back to the door so she could open it for Alastor, who ducked under the doorframe and out of the shop, before he made his way down onto the sidewalk.

“Bye, Lucifer,” Rosie said and waved at them as Rosalie joined the two of them.

Lucifer finally looked up from where he’d been hiding his face and let go of Alastor’s antler just to give Rosie a small wave back. Alastor could feel how he was still more or less pressing himself as close to his head as he could, as if it would hide him.

Wait. Shit. They were out in public.

Rosie closed the door, and Alastor felt himself look around for some way to hide the kid on his shoulders. He muttered a quiet curse as he spotted absolutely nothing that could possibly make Lucifer less obvious. Rosalie noticed his desperation.

“Oh, calm down,” she huffed. “No one’s going to notice him.”

“Everyone’s going to notice him,” Alastor argued as he started walking down the sidewalk on his way towards the butcher’s shop. Rosalie fell into step beside him. “I don’t usually walk around with a child, and from how most people have seemed to think he’s my child, he’s going to gain a lot of attention from the public.”

“And why would that be so bad?” Rosalie asked as she smiled at a couple of cannibals walking past them. Alastor felt his heart speed up as the two demons immediately looked up at the child sitting on his shoulders. They didn’t say anything, but he could hear them whisper the moment they passed them.

“Because people might think he’s an easy target to get to me, and because reputation is incredibly important in Hell. I’m not a caretaker,” Alastor hissed, looking over his shoulder at the two cannibals. “I don’t do children. I don’t particularly like them, either.”

“You were a child once,” his mother said.

“Yes, and I’m not a child anymore,” he retorted as they made their way out of Cannibal Town. It was a pretty quiet day in Hell, which he was thankful for. That didn’t mean there weren’t still quite a few people out and about. “I’m over a hundred years old,” he grumbled. “I barely remember what being a child was like.”

He lied. He knew exactly what being a child was like. The only thing he could come up with to describe it would be an intense sense of fear. Not knowing when he’d get hurt, again. Not knowing when he’d have to run away, only to get back home a day later when his father wasn’t home, anymore, hoping he’d have forgotten about Alastor’s disappearance when he would show up from work.

The only good times he’d had, had been with his mother. Those were the only moments he’d felt meant something. She’d taken care of him.

And then his father had taken her away from him, and Alastor had been forced to grow up sooner than he should’ve had to.

“Well, I guess your childhood might not be the best example,” Rosalie murmured quietly, making Alastor’s heart sting.

“You tried your best,” Alastor told her.

Rosalie smiled sadly up at him. “I like to think you had some good moments, too,” she said.

“Only the ones with you,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation. “Like our trips into the bayou, or when you made me those little treats when he was away.”

“I should’ve left him the moment I knew I was pregnant,” she muttered, mostly to herself, it seemed. “I was just worried he’d try and track us down. I didn’t know what would’ve happened if he found me, had I done it.”

Alastor knew exactly what would’ve happened. He’d have ended up having to see his mother dead a lot earlier in his life, and he would’ve probably ended up following her to Heaven soon after. His father would’ve walked away from the two of them without a single regret, and he’d walk the Earth without consequence until he died by alcohol poisoning a few years later.

At least, that’s what Alastor assumed.

“Nothing good,” Alastor ended up saying. His mother hummed in agreement as they turned down another street. He could feel Lucifer pressing his forehead against the back of his head. Alastor took it as his partner trying to comfort him. “It’s alright, darling,” he muttered, squeezing his leg. Even Louisa seemed to pick up on his mood. Her little tongue flickered out and tickled his skin. “Do you have any ideas for what to make for dinner?” he asked Rosalie, trying to change the subject before he ended up feeling like doing one of his old-type of radio shows just to get out some frustration. “Phil has the best meat in the city.”

“Why don’t we see what he has, and we’ll decide from there?” Rosalie suggested. Alastor agreed. “Are we making food for more than just the three of us?”

“I hope not,” Alastor muttered to himself, making his mother glance at him. “However, I have a feeling there’s going to be at least a few extra mouths to feed once we start making it. I guess we’ll have to buy in some more ingredients just in case.”

“Why don’t we make a stew, then?” Rosalie suggested as they passed another group of demons. The demons recognised him. One of them seemed to want to pull out their phone to take a picture, but Alastor gave him one, menacing look, and he immediately lowered his head and moved farther into the group. There were some good things about being recognised as one of the royals of Hell, he guessed. Being able to threaten people into obeying him was one of them. “It should be easy to eat for the little one,” she added.

“Perfect,” Alastor said, relaxing as the butcher shop came into view. He felt himself speed up slightly and ended up walking backwards in front of his mother. Lucifer let out a small giggle when he turned, finally looking up from where he’d been hiding in his hair. “Homemade gumbo?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Rosalie agreed with a grin, looking up at Lucifer. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Mmh,” Lucifer hummed uncertainly. Alastor felt him squirm a little. “No.”

“No?” Rosalie questioned. “Why not?”

“You’ve eaten gumbo lots of times, haven’t you?” Alastor huffed. “I thought you liked it?”

“No,” Lucifer whispered.

Alastor felt a bit indignant as he slowed to a stop. “Have you been lying to me for the past eight years?” He felt Lucifer’s grip on his antlers tighten before the toddler started pulling his head back. Alastor was about to tell him to stop it when he realised his partner was trying to tell him exactly why he didn’t want gumbo. He’d tilted his head back until he was looking at the sky.

“No,” Lucifer repeated quietly.

Alastor stared at the pentagram, feeling a small part of what wasn’t him spark to life. The part he’d gotten from licking a knife, once. The knife he’d given Lucifer so he could eat the lunch—the gumbo, he’d made for him more than eight years ago, which he apparently threw straight at God himself. It had been the start of months of intense stress ending in a war that had not only ended up with the two of them dying, but a lot of innocent souls being lost, as well as a fall that had rendered them useless for a long time.

“Oh,” Alastor muttered.

“Oh,” Lucifer agreed.

Alastor furrowed his brow. “We’ve still had gumbo quite a few times after that, though,” he continued, trying to see Lucifer’s reaction. He couldn’t see him, but he could hear his breathing pick up. Alastor sighed. “What if I promise you that no one will be harmed?”

“Promise?” Lucifer murmured.

“Promise,” Alastor promised.

“Pinkie promise?” Lucifer asked.

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Alastor scoffed. “We don’t make pinkie promises, we make deals,” he continued and let go of Lucifer’s right leg to offer him his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

“Pinkie promise,” Lucifer repeated firmly, and instead of grabbing Alastor’s hand, he hooked his pinkie around Alastor’s.

“There’s no higher form of promise than a pinkie promise,” Rosalie told him and stepped past them.

Alastor rolled his eyes, but ended up curling his pinkie around Lucifer’s. He could feel Lucifer tighten his hold, and while Alastor’s mind was mortified that he was actually allowing it, his heart had other ideas. It warmed at the touch, especially when he realised Lucifer had no intentions of letting go.

“Maybe in Heaven, but here it’s deals,” Alastor grumbled and followed after her. “Phil’s is right over here,” he informed his mother and nodded at the door to the butcher’s shop. She nodded and opened the door for them. Alastor once again made sure to duck down slightly, just to make sure Lucifer didn’t accidentally end up hitting his head on the doorframe.

The shop was not empty. It was actually pretty busy, and while he knew Phil’s shop had gotten more popular after the war ended, he’d still hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with other customers that day. It wasn’t filled to the brim either, but rather a few who were browsing the different meats Phil had to offer. They all looked up when they heard the bell.

The initial reaction was something between fear and awe. He’d gotten used to that. Being one of the main reasons for ending the war (and one of the reasons it started to begin with, but he liked to pretend that he wasn’t), he’d ended up being perceived as some sort of war hero. He did miss the days when they’d only shown fear, but he would be lying if he didn’t say the admiration was also quite nice.

Now, normally, Alastor didn’t have a toddler sitting on his shoulders, nor did he hold hands (much). He was currently doing both, and while he knew Lucifer would be a bit sad about it, he hurried to wiggle his hand free of Lucifer’s grip, returning his hand to his partner’s hoof. The self-consciousness settled in his stomach as he smiled at the people.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted them. None of them said anything, so Alastor decided to play nonchalant and stepped farther into the shop.

“Hi,” Lucifer said. Alastor had hoped he would’ve kept his mouth shut, especially when all the eyes snapped up to the kid.

“Oh, my fucking god,” one of the other customers mumbled. The rest of them looked like they shared her sentiment.

Alastor ignored her and turned to his mother. “What kind of meat did you want?”

“Well, we used to make it with chicken—”

Lucifer cut her off with a gasp.

Alastor cleared his throat. “Not fowl,” he said. “It could be anything else, except—”

“No lamb,” Lucifer added.

“No lamb,” Alastor agreed with a wince. He hadn’t told his mother too much about the actual war and the things leading up to it, and he certainly hadn’t told her anything about the cherub. He probably never would. Of course, there would be moments (like right then) when his mother would look at him like she was trying her best to decipher why in the world none of them wanted lamb specifically. “Bad experience,” he explained.

“The worst,” Lucifer added. Alastor wondered if he was having another moment, but from the looks of it, he was still in a more childish state. “No lamb.”

“If you say so,” Rosalie muttered and smiled at the other customers. “Please don’t mind us. We’re just here to shop.”

“You could also just leave,” Alastor suggested, making them all glance at each other and start filing past them and out of the door. He thanked them and made his way over to the counter. He picked up the small bell that stood beside the cash register and rang it.

“Me too!” Lucifer demanded and tried to reach down so he could grab the bell.

Alastor hesitated. “Be gentle,” he told him and gave him the bell. “It’s quite painful for me to listen to, as you know.”

Lucifer froze where he sat. “Oh,” he said quietly. It was followed by just the faintest sound of a bell Lucifer could create. It made Alastor smile. He knew his partner wanted to shake the thing senseless. “Okay?” Lucifer asked.

“Indeed,” Alastor said and took the bell back. He placed it back on the counter. He glanced at his mother, who was still looking over the display, muttering to herself trying to figure out what meat to get.

“How about beef?” Rosalie asked.

Alastor pursed his lips. “He doesn’t sell beef,” he said and glanced at the swing doors as they were pushed open, revealing the butcher himself. The bull demon held a piece of packaged meat in his hands. He looked mildly confused when he saw Alastor instead of the customer who’d probably ordered it. “Hello.”

“Al?” Phil blurted out. Before his eyes trailed up to Lucifer sitting on his shoulders. “Kid?”

“Phil!” Lucifer exclaimed happily, wiggling to try and get off of Alastor’s shoulders. Alastor grabbed him under his armpits and lifted him up and over his head and down on the counter. “Phil!” Lucifer repeated.

“I need some help chopping this one up,” Alastor drawled, making Lucifer’s eyes widen. Phil’s eyes widened, too. “I’m joking,” he huffed.

“Fucking Christ,” Phil muttered. “Is that?”