Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They were upstairs in Charlie's office, going over the final set of reports and receipts for the year, when Alastor first heard it.

He couldn't prevent his ears from swivelling to try and catch the sound, faint as it was. 

Probably multiple floors away from them.

When Alastor abruptly shifted his head around, trying to discern the direction the sound was coming from, Charlie looked up at him. "Everything alright, Al?"

"You ought to learn to pay a little more attention to your surroundings, dear," Alastor answered, but he was too preoccupied with figuring out what had so fully drawn his attention to spin the situation into another life lesson to prove himself invaluable to Charlie's growth yet again.

There.

Downstairs.

It's... music?

Curiosity piqued, Alastor sent out a thread of his power, bouncing from radio to radio across the hotel. Most of the guests had yet to catch on to the fact that the radios were more than just mere receivers.

The closer he got...

"How curious..." Alastor mumbled out.

A violin. Not just any violin. Lucifer's violin.

Alastor tuned in to the radio cleverly hidden in the ballroom. It had been a whole ordeal to set the ballroom up for this year's Sinsmas celebrations according to Charlie's lofty dreams, a big tree imported from Gluttony drowning in lights and baubles and all. Alastor didn't need to be able to see to picture Lucifer standing among all the colourful decorations, playing his violin.

The music was--

"Al, what's going on?" Charlie's voice was getting increasingly more worried, and the sound of it was diverting Alastor's focus from Lucifer's playing, so with a dismissive hand wave he turned on the office radio, manipulated the frequencies so Charlie (and Vaggie, though he tended to ignore her presence) could hear.

Alastor had not heard the piece Lucifer was playing before. If anything, he was absolutely certain he had never heard anything even remotely like it. It was beautiful ethereal mesmerising ... haunting.

Lonely.

"Oh," Charlie breathed out, and the way her entire demeanour shifted into a profound sadness drew Alastor's attention back to her. "I didn't realise it was today."

"What is today, dear?"

Charlie shifted slightly, fiddled with her pink glitter pen. "I'm not exactly sure to be honest. But for as long as I can remember, every year around Sinsmas, dad has been playing this kind of music. I don't know exactly why or what it even is, mum always said to leave him be. I... snuck into the room a couple times when I was younger to listen." She looked up from her desk and met Alastor's eyes. "It's incredibly beautiful, but... Dad always cries when he plays this."

Well, that didn't have to mean much. Lucifer cried all the time about all kinds of frivolous things, there was no question where Charlie had inherited that tendency from--

They were both ripped from their thoughts when the pen that had been precariously dangling from Vaggie's grip finally fell, clattering against the desk.

Now this meant something. Vaggie was staring at the radio, all attention raptly focused on the music Lucifer was playing, unshed tears glittering in her wide eye.

"Vaggie?"

She startled slightly when Charlie gently touched her arm, taking a number of deep breaths before she managed to whisper out: "It's the missing piece."

"Missing piece?" Charlie questioned, and Alastor finally realised what about the music was giving him this uncomfortable feeling of wrongness.

"It is incomplete," he concluded. "He is carrying most of the melody, but at times he obviously plays an accompaniment. I would assume there should be a second instrument to complete the harmony."

"Not just one." Vaggie was still whispering, as if she was afraid to disturb the song, even though Lucifer was playing half a hotel away. "A whole orchestra."

Alastor blinked at her. It was not an unreasonable assumption to make of course, but Vaggie didn't usually have much to offer in terms of knowledge about classical music, so how..?

"You know this song?" Charlie asked, her confusion growing.

"No. I mean, yes, but-- not like them." She trailed off.

"Vagatha, dear, it would be most helpful if you spoke in complete sentences," Alastor admonished, which earned him a sharp (if still slightly teary) look, but at least also broke Vaggie's trance.

She took a deep breath, and pointedly turned her attention to Charlie, ignoring Alastor much like he tended to ignore her. "Your dad is playing the missing piece of the Song of the Universe, I really should have figured it out when I first saw that he plays the violin--" She cut herself off, restarted. "Once every year, the Heavenly Choir performs this music. It doesn't really have a name, but people needed to call it something, so it got dubbed the Song of the Universe."

Alastor couldn't help but interrupt: "Oh dear, the Heavenly Choir is actually a thing?"

"Yes it is, and if you'd shut up I'd explain it!" Vaggie hissed back.

Alastor shrugged, summoned his microphone to twirl between his fingers, but he did stop talking.

"The Heavenly Choir is made up of all the angels that were created by God Himself. The Archangels, some of the Seraphs, a couple more of the original ones. The way it was explained to me, they all were created with a shard of the universe itself woven into their being. That shard... resonates, allowing them to hear the music of existence. Since they all were given different shards, they all hear a different melody, but it all pieces together into one big harmonious song. So once every year they play it together, and it's projected so every angel can hear it and experience just a hint of the universe themselves."

"That's... beautiful," Charlie breathed out.

Vaggie nodded. "Your dad, being one of the original Archangels, can obviously hear a part of the universe too. That's what he is playing, even though he has been cut off from the choir..." She crossed her arms, gripped her elbows, definitely a gesture meant to self-soothe as her eye lost its focus on Charlie. "It sounds so incredibly lonely... I wish you could hear the rest of it. I wish they could all play together the way it should be."

This wasn't any of Alastor's business. His questions had been answered, his curiosity had been sated. He should disengage now and find a way to make fun of Lucifer, or maybe just leave them all to be sad and miserable on their own. And yet...

Alastor was speaking before he could stop himself. "You said the music is projected for every angel to hear. Can you still hear it?"

"Uh. Not sure? Not passively at least, but I have also never actively tried since coming down here."

"Do try then."

Vaggie blinked, but for once, thankfully, she didn't question Alastor on principle, rather closed her eye to focus. Good. Because Alastor really didn't feel like explaining his thoughts.

Lucifer had been adamant about not receiving any gifts for Sinsmas, only gave an utterly pretentious "I just want to see you all being happy!" that had Alastor violently roll his eyes. Granted, Alastor had also completely refused the notion of taking part in the gifting, but at least he had told them the reason was that the only gifts he would ever want were of cannibalistic nature, and he wouldn't even trust Husker to pick out a good cut. That had sufficiently deterred the lot of them, though he did receive a new roach crown from Niffty.

But there was this stupid part of his brain that had been watching Lucifer, that had observed him going to great lengths to find thoughtful (and appropriate, looking at you Angel) gifts for everyone at the hotel. Including Alastor. He wasn't supposed to know about that of course, the gift exchange having been anonymous and the card with the all expenses covered reservation for one of the exclusive few Gluttony branch restaurants in the Pride Ring completely devoid of any personal message. The envelope had been plain white, Alastor's name printed rather than written by hand. It could have been a gift from Charlie, but her honest confusion at spotting the envelope among the presents had fully ruled out that possibility.

So here he was, having received a thoughtful and, if he was honest with himself (urgh), appreciated gift from the King of Hell himself. He had been well-nigh elated to realise it was the Gluttony branch that exclusively catered to his particular tastes. Had gone as far as calling Rosie to invite her along before he had even properly thought about what it meant that Lucifer had even bothered at all.

They had been getting... closer. Their fights more motivated by humour and entertainment rather than hatred and disgust. More than just one evening spent in calm and daresay pleasant company at the hotel bar. It was... nice. Nothing less. Certainly nothing more.

Anyway! Lucifer had given Alastor a gift and therefore he was in his debt. So! If this worked--

"Oh," Vaggie gasped, "I can hear it! It's super faint, but it's still there." Her voice was slightly pressed, she obviously had thought she had been cut off much like Lucifer had.

Charlie, meanwhile, was growing excited. "Oh my gosh, what does it sound like??"

"I..." Vaggie pinched her lips, opened her eye to look at Charlie. "I don't have the words to describe it, I'm sorry. I wish I could let you hear it too."

"That wish may be possible to grant," Alastor said, twirling his microphone one more time and then letting it vanish. Was he really going to do this? Apparently. Charlie and Vaggie were looking at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head. "If you care to remember, the broadcasting of audio is one of my fundamental abilities. I will tune into your signal, amplify it, transform it, and then I can broadcast it to any of my radios with minimal effort."

"And how do you 'tune in to my signal'?" Vaggie narrowed her eye at him, her voice full of suspicion.

Alastor clicked his tongue, felt his smile pinch. "We will have to engage in physical contact for the duration of the broadcast."

The immediate expression of utter disgust that appeared on Vaggie's face completely mirrored Alastor's, sans forced smile. Neither of them was thrilled about the prospect. Not in the slightest. Vaggie may not have an aversion to touch like Alastor, but she definitely had a (healthy) aversion to touching Alastor.

"A touching of hands will be sufficient," Alastor added, his voice a bit more obscured by static.

Neither of them wanted to be touching the other. But both of them wanted for a Morningstar to hear what was missing.

"Fine." Vaggie said.

"Fine." Alastor agreed.

Charlie looked between them, a little worried, but also very very thrilled. Whether it was at the thought of getting to hear the Heavenly Choir perform, or Vaggie and Alastor agreeing on something was unclear.

"Come along then." Alastor got up from his seat, the radio playing Lucifer's lonely melody clicking off. It would be much better to hear it in person.

Lucifer's violin grew louder the closer they got, worming its way into Alastor's mind in a way he had rarely experienced music doing. It was captivating, but now that he knew it was only a small fragment of the song, the incompleteness felt even more grating on his ears. The want to rectify the matter, to hear the song in its completeness, was very quickly growing into a consuming need.

Angel Dust and Husker were lingering outside the door to the ballroom, asking Charlie if she knew what was going on, but Alastor ignored them.

Alastor wasn't sure what he had expected to see as he opened the door to the ballroom. Not that it mattered anymore.

Lucifer was positioned underneath the big, decorated tree, ridiculous top hat and tailcoat absent, his wings on full display. He was standing completely still, as if he had been glued to the spot, not a single hint of his usually so animated movements to be seen. He played the golden violin tucked underneath his chin with utter precision, his bow moved just perfectly enough for every note, not a speck of energy wasted. He looked even more like a doll than usual like this. A marionette. As if someone was controlling him by pulling his strings.

Lucifer's eyes were closed, and he didn't acknowledge them at all as they stepped inside, simply continued playing. The sound of the lonely violin immediately began tugging on everyone's heartstrings, Alastor's included to his dismay. And he hadn't even acknowledged the glittering tear tracks running down Lucifer's cheeks yet.

Alastor stepped closer, summoned two cushions on the floor and gestured for Vaggie to sit as he lowered himself to kneel on the other. He assumed they would be here for a while.

There was only a tiny hint of reluctance as Vaggie joined him, her eye still glued to Lucifer and his unaccompanied solo performance.

Alastor waited for her to settle and get comfortable, closing her eye as she focused on hearing the projection of the Heavenly Choir. They both pointedly ignored Husker and Angel's questioning looks. Charlie was hovering next to them, clearly wanting to just go and hug her father to comfort him, but also not wanting to interrupt.

"Got it," Vaggie whispered, so quietly the violin would have utterly drowned it out if Alastor's hearing wasn't as good as it was. Alastor nodded, permitted one of his ears to turn toward Vaggie, the other remaining pointed at Lucifer, and offered his hand.

To her credit, Vaggie didn't hesitate to put her hand into his.

Her touch tingled uncomfortably on his skin, but Alastor ignored it, rather focused on the task on hand. He had barely even begun unfolding his power around Vaggie's soul when he already found it. As she had said, the signal was weak, slightly distorted crossing through the boundaries of both Heaven and Hell, but it was nothing an experienced radio host and audio engineer couldn't rectify.

Really the biggest challenge was to figure out how to transform a projection meant to be understood by a soul into an audio carrying radio wave. A challenge he conquered quickly as well, the subsequent amplifying and equalising second nature to the point Alastor didn't even notice his powers doing it.

The result was--

Oh. Oh my.

Breathtaking was certainly a gross understatement. Lucifer's violin seamlessly pieced into the wider orchestra, and suddenly the song wasn't melancholy and loneliness, but rather wonder and freedom.

Vaggie was shedding silent tears. The completeness of the song must feel even more ecstatic to her than it did for Alastor, who had only known it for a couple minutes rather than her years and years of hearing the Heavenly Choir perform.

Alastor felt his antlers grow on his head as he patched himself into the ballroom's audio system. Broadcasting was much easier using his tower as a medium, but he was the Radio Demon, he wouldn't allow his powers to be restricted by something as ridiculous as not being in a fixed location.

He adjusted the audio system's equalisers, fine tuning the various speakers strategically placed around the room for orchestral music, the main focus point right where Lucifer stood.

Then, finally, Alastor snapped his fingers.

And there was music.

There were various gasps around the room, but they didn't matter.

What mattered was the resounding clatter of a golden violin impacting the floor, Lucifer following right after, barely catching himself on hands and knees, his wings haphazardly splayed out on the parquet around him.

Tears were flowing freely, glittering like falling stars as they dripped to the floor, but Lucifer didn't seem to care, not even the slightest bit, as he turned tear-veiled eyes to where Alastor and Vaggie were sitting.

Alastor felt more than saw Charlie shifting into motion, whatever little of his attention he didn't need to dedicate to the signal completely tuned towards Lucifer.

When Lucifer seemed to fully register what was happening, spotted the ghostly halo above Vaggie's head, Alastor's green misty power threading around his antlers, the rest of his body gave out completely.

Charlie only barely came to a skidding halt to plop down and catch Lucifer in time. He was sobbing, shoulders heaving, wings trembling, and yet there was not a single sound. He fell apart in utter silence.

Afraid to disturb the song, just like Vaggie.

The orchestra's playing felt wrong again now, way too jovial and optimistic for the fact that their first violin, their concertmaster, was down on the floor shattering into pieces. Alastor could feel anger rising up in him. He wanted to yell at them to stop. They shouldn't get to continue on like nothing was wrong when they were playing an utterly flawed and imperfect song.

Charlie was clutching Lucifer tightly, rocking him back and forth, her face pressed into his hair. Not even she dared to disturb the song with the gentle shushing and soothing whispers that she usually would comfort people with.

And Alastor could do nothing. Could only watch, keep holding Vaggie's hand and focus on keeping the broadcast alive.

Except. Maybe... He had never bothered even testing this, why would he when he was bound to the Pride Ring, but he was certainly getting angry enough to pull on a wrathian power boost, and he had sated his gluttony just the day before, and his pride was absolutely refusing the notion of letting these angelic assholes get away with heralding an incomplete song as celestial perfection--

"Charlotte," Alastor spoke, the first sound to break through the song, "I need to borrow some of your power." He summoned another cushion into existence on his free side.

Charlie blinked at him, confused, but at least Lucifer was settling down, so she loosened her hold on him. "Why?"

"Because dear Vaggie unfortunately has nary a whisper of magical potential, and your power is at least partially celestial."

Charlie looked at him for a long moment, then looked back down to Lucifer, who was pulling himself up a little, but still haphazardly knelt on the floor, eyes unfocussed behind the spilling tears. Her eyes cast over the dropped violin, and she reached out, delicately picked it up. She handled it with the greatest care there was, even though it obviously hadn't been damaged by the fall and most certainly wouldn't be damaged by her. Ever so gently, Charlie gave the violin back into Lucifer's hands. He seemed to take it without even realising, his hold instinctual, ready to play, if only he wasn't still emptily staring into nothingness.

Charlie got up and joined Alastor and Vaggie. She had barely even settled down when Alastor was already offering his hand, and she took it, with a small smile that was way too sad on her usually so happy face.

Any other time Alastor would have been annoyed to learn just how deep the well of Charlie's untapped power truly ran, but right now he was completely preoccupied with more important matters. Her half-infernal, half-celestial power didn't mesh well with his, but it seamlessly merged with Vaggie's with only a little of Alastor's directing. Immediately the signal grew much stronger. It would still take a lot of work on Alastor's part, but he only needed to reach the very edge of the network, hope the signal would spread along the already existing pathways.

Alastor drew up more and more of his powers, felt the cracking of his growing antlers as more and more tines branched off. The symbols of his voodoo magic were flickering all around him, but he didn't pay them any mind, didn't pay anything any of his precious attention at all. Instead, he focused his entire being on creating the strongest signal carrier wave he ever had.

A piece of his power followed it as he sent it out, up and up and up and up and up and-- The boundary to Hell yielded under the influence of Charlie's infernal power, and the boundary to Heaven gave way to her celestial presence.

There it was. A metaphysical network connecting every soul in Heaven so they may all hear the music of the Heavenly Choir. And, piggybacking off of the connection to Vaggie, they were now connected to Alastor. The carrier wave was still empty, broadcasting only to establish the connection, but it would be the simplest of tasks to splice the sound of Lucifer's violin into it.

If he started playing again.

Meanwhile the Heavenly orchestra continued without him, completely unaware of the new presence among them.

With his powers sufficiently stabilising the connection, Alastor allowed himself to shift a fragment of his attention back into the room to focus on Lucifer.

He was still silently crying, still kneeling on the floor as if the strings holding him up had been cut. But he wasn't completely frozen anymore, his fingers curled around the neck of his violin pressing down the strings, even though his bow was still weakly dangling from his other hand. He didn't seem to be particularly aware that he was doing it, instinct pushing him to continue.

There was a lull in the orchestra's playing, an obvious gap that should have been filled by Lucifer's violin rising above them all. It grated on Alastor's ears, he wanted that gap filled, he needed that gap filled--

Alastor clicked his tongue, a sound that had initiated so many of their playful arguments that it served to draw Lucifer's attention to him, even in this so emotionally charged situation. Having Lucifer's eyes on him, and only him, even now, pleased Alastor to no end.

"Well, your Majesty, how many more of your cues do you intend to miss?" While his words were sharp, his voice was not.

Lucifer blinked at Alastor, another pair of tears spilling over to roll down his cheeks. And then he gripped his violin tighter, shifted to pull his feet underneath himself and pushed up from the floor. For a moment he swayed dangerously, only saved by his wings instinctively adjusting his balance.

He lifted the violin to rest against his shoulder once more, his hold on his bow secure now, his eyes closed as he listened to the Heavenly orchestra finishing up the current movement, waiting for his moment.

Lucifer lifted his bow and Alastor's broadcast officially went on the air.

The first vibrant note of the violin sounded through the Heavenly network and Alastor couldn't help his wild grin as the entire orchestra stuttered. Got you, holy assholes.

Lucifer wasn't deterred in the slightest as the orchestra fell apart, continued playing as if he wasn't suddenly having an unintended solo. If anything, it only motivated him to play even better, pouring all his overflowing emotions into his violin and Alastor could feel it, could feel all of Heaven feel it, could feel all of Heaven take a collective gasp.

Being patched into the network as directly as he was, Alastor could sense the commotion happening at the centre, the questioning as to what was happening and how and what should they do-- With no little amounts of glee Alastor honed in on that tangle, making his presence known, pushing into their minds, ensuring they got as clear of a signal as possible, making it impossible for them to escape or deny or even dare dissolve the network.

Someone pushed back against him, pure celestial power shifting against his. And then Alastor was pushed back, his awareness forcefully pressed back into his body. Alastor found himself staring into an impression of deep blue eyes, a face that was Lucifer's and yet wasn't and he didn't even try to stop the snarl climbing up his throat, completely gave himself over to the anger, because fuck them, it was all their own doing, Lucifer had been here playing his part year after year, it was no one's fault but their own that everyone had to suffer an incomplete song, and now they couldn't even step up and do it right?? Weren't they supposed to be fucking angels?? Forgiveness and reunions were supposed to be their whole fucking thing!! If they really chose to fuck this up now, then this opportunity would never come again!!

It was only when Michael (how did he know..?) flinched back ever so slightly that Alastor realised this wasn't just in his mind anymore. Michael only permitted himself the smallest of reactions, because of course Lucifer's twin was just as prideful as the Sin of Pride himself. He pulled himself up where he had projected himself to stare right into Alastor's eyes, looking down at him with obvious contemplation, a conflict hidden behind his eyes that Alastor could sense despite his stoicism, because Michael was using Alastor's broadcast to bridge the gap, because apparently even the Guardian Angel of Heaven itself needed the help of his powers to appear here and just wait and see if he would ever do this again if they broke Lucifer's heart yet again!

Michael finally shifted his eyes away from him, lingered for a second on Charlie's utterly astonished, wide-eyed expression, her free hand lifted to cover her mouth. And then, finally, Michael turned to look at Lucifer.

Alastor wasn't prepared for the second-hand feeling of Michael's grief. It was so absolute, it ran so deep, and it grew only stronger as Michael took in Lucifer's tears. It was physically suffocating. Alastor couldn't breathe-- just fix it!

Michael took a step forward, abruptly stopped himself, only to take another step and stop himself yet again. Alastor spotted the viola Michael clutched in his hands behind his back, and there it was, there was the instrument meant to complete Lucifer's harmony, it was all within reach now--

Michael's hands were shaking slightly as he lifted his viola to his shoulder, holding it in place with only the pressure of his chin as he flexed his fingers to make the shaking stop.

Lucifer was lingering on a long note, gorgeous vibrato resounding around them. Alastor wanted to protest as he lifted the bow from the strings, this couldn't be the end, not when they were so close--

Michael seamlessly took over the melody from Lucifer. It was gorgeous, he played with the exact same proficiency Lucifer did, his perfect match, the other half of the set. He walked closer to Lucifer, and he must have felt the shift of power in front of him, because Lucifer opened his eyes, and Alastor could see how his entire body trembled as he locked eyes with his twin for the first time since his Fall.

Michael positively towered over him. Their similarities were as numerous as their differences, Michael being a mirror of the angel Lucifer had been, once upon a time; Lucifer the embodiment of what they all could become.

They stared each other down as Lucifer lifted his bow once again and joined Michael's harmony.

Finally. Finally.

Alastor could breathe.

Their shared melody was vibrant and fast, quick staccato and complex fingering. It was an argument, a negotiation, a desperate plea.

It was perfect.

Michael picking up his instrument again seemed to prompt a couple of the background players of the orchestra back into motion, filling out the string section, bolstering their sound, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the feeling of another celestial presence prodding at the connection.

Alastor didn't resist it, permitted the careful analysis of the intricate weave of Alastor and Charlie's power around Vaggie's connection. And then Uriel drew upon a piece of their own power, shaped it to fill the gaps of the weave, to strengthen and cement the connection.

Alastor let out a small sigh. This would make things much easier on his powers. Michael didn't seem to know just how much it took for him to bounce back on Alastor's signal like that.

Not even a second after he finished the thought, a new presence skidded down the connection, Raphael projecting himself in a flurry of white and green feathers, wild grin on his face, raising his trumpet to his lips to loudly blare right into Michael and Lucifer's ears, effectively bringing an end to their wild duet.

As one, Michael and Lucifer turned, giving Raphael the exact same flat, unimpressed look, exasperation communicating that this was by far not the first time he had interrupted them like that, and Raphael let out a loud laugh, a feeling of pure, elated joy flooding the signal in a way that had even Alastor's smile melt into something nothing but honest and true.

Raphael's laugh seemed to startle Lucifer, the realisation hitting with just how much ease he had fallen back into the old patterns of his interaction with his siblings.

Alastor only noticed Azrael's presence when Azrael amusedly shook his head where he stood aside, loosely hugging his trombone to his chest. Azrael lifted an eyebrow, a wordless communication of 'done clowning around?' (which Alastor figured out he understood just like he knew their names because they were baring their souls quite a lot to make this bounce back through Alastor's signal even possible) before readying his instrument, Raphael taking position next to him.

The ensuing back and forth between brass and strings was plain fun to listen to. Lucifer and Michael side by side squaring off against Azrael and Raphael, trying to one up each other with the ability and proficiency that was only achievable through millennia of practice.

Not getting too much? Zadkiel asked, silently in Alastor's mind, ever so kind and considerate.

I will hold out. Was Alastor's answer. Anything else wasn't even an option worth wasting time to consider.

Zadkiel hummed, walked over to where Gabriel projected himself sitting on the bench of his harpsichord, fingers steepled under his chin, elbows resting on top of the instrument, watching his siblings play. Just like Lucifer, he was shedding silent tears, his emotions coloured by stark relief. Gabriel looked up when Zadkiel gently touched his shoulder and they exchanged a look as Zadkiel walked past and took his own seat, the concert harp glimmering into view as he leant it against his shoulder.

As one they joined their siblings, expertly guiding them away from their duel and back on track to the unity of the orchestra.

Jophiel was next, her yellow and white wings making her appear like the sun herself, hovering above them as her clarinet took centre stage.

Uriel joined last, and only when they were certain their improvised weave of power into Alastor's broadcast would hold; their oboe harmonising with Jophiel's clarinet and evolving their combined sound into something new.

Finally, the Heavenly Choir was complete. Led by the eight archangels, four sets of twins, God's first living creations.

Their music was almost indescribable. Beautiful, vibrant, animated, resonant... It resonated with the soul itself and the sound of perfection, the feeling of completeness, filled Alastor with not just utter satisfaction, but also a sense of peace he hadn't known in either life or death.

It brought tears to his own eyes. He refused to shed them, but they were there as he listened to Lucifer reconnect to his siblings and his roots.

He wasn't sure how long they had played. But when the echo of the final note faded into silence, it left behind nothing but content serenity.

Alastor blinked. Everything was blurry.

Well, everything was always blurry, the monocle was as much an aesthetic choice as it was also a necessary one.

Meaning everything was more blurry than usual.

Probably not exactly good.

"Finished?" He heard himself ask, and oh, had he intended to speak? Probably, else he wouldn't have done it, obviously--

"Yes, Alastor," sounded Lucifer's voice from... somewhere, Alastor couldn't see, but still he frowned just a little, because Lucifer still sounded teary, he should have no more reason to be crying now-- "We're finished. Thank you."

"Hm," Alastor hummed. 'Good,' he wanted to add, and 'don't mention it, seriously just do not ever,' but he wasn't sure anymore whether or not those thoughts made it to his vocal chords.

The broadcast collapsed as Alastor's power ran out, angelic projections blinking out of existence.

At least he lost consciousness too quickly to feel the discomfort at Charlie and Vaggie's hands touching him as they caught him as his body gave out.

Chapter Text

Lucifer would feel like a creep watching Alastor sleep, but Alastor was a certified creep himself and what goes around comes around, so Lucifer decided to feel justified in his indulgence of watching the gentle rise and fall of Alastor's chest.

They were in Alastor's room, Alastor peacefully slumbering underneath his blankets in his bed, Lucifer sitting in one of the comfy armchairs nearby.

He was holding a perpetually hot mug of cocoa, courtesy of Charlie. It was good, exactly as sweet as Lucifer loved it, but he had only taken a few sips across the last couple hours, too preoccupied with watching Alastor and his peaceful cute little smile.

Eventually, Alastor shifted and Lucifer clicked his fingers, golden pentagram drawn around the bed glimmering out of existence as Alastor woke up.

Alastor took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to sigh the air right back out as he met Lucifer's own.

"One would think you'd have run out of tears by now," Alastor said, his voice still heavy with sleep and completely missing his radio filter.

Lucifer could only smile and shake his head, wipe his fingers underneath his eyes. Again. For the hundredth time today. "Not for a long while. I'm an expert at crying."

"I wouldn't have noticed."

Lucifer chuckled at Alastor's deadpan, though the sound was still weighed down by the tears that he couldn't control. They had been slowing down, but there were still way too many, way too big emotions happening for them to stop anytime soon.

"How long was I unconscious?" Alastor asked, his radio filter stubbornly clicking off again two words into the sentence.

"Not long. About five hours? You completely drained the reserves of your power, so I gave you a bit of a boost. Should have filled you right back up, but it sadly doesn't help the physical exhaustion."

"You didn't need to do that." Alastor seemed to have given up on forcing his radio filter, and rather focused on sitting up, obviously slightly unsteady and off balance.

"You are kidding, right?" Lucifer asked, and the look he got in return clearly told him that Alastor wasn't. "Do you understand what you gave me today? What you made possible? You connected me to a piece of myself I had ripped from me millennia ago, something I thought I would never get to experience ever again. To have it back, to reconnect just this one time is beyond anything--"

"I'll do it again." Alastor interrupted.

Lucifer's jaw clicked closed.

"Next year. I'll do it again. And the year after that and the year after that. As long as my soul exists in your vicinity."

And there were the tears back to full force again. Lucifer shifted his mug of cocoa away as he leaned forward a little more, so it wouldn't end up tasting salty, stared at Alastor through the blurry veil of tears. Had he really just-- No, he must have imagined it, had he fallen asleep? Probably, his dreams tended to be very vibrant after all--

"Would you stop that?" Alastor demanded, his voice clipped as he turned his head away to avoid looking at Lucifer. "I'll be doing it for perfectly selfish reasons, after all I have never heard music of this kind, I am serving nothing but my own entertainment."

Okay, sure, if that's how he wanted to word it--

"I love you." Lucifer blurted out.

Wait.

What.

Noooo, nonono, he knew he was going to say something stupid, but not that stupid--

Alastor's neck cracked loudly as he snapped his eyes back onto Lucifer.

Oof, full deer in the headlights, he had fucked up big time, better figure out how to salvage this-- "I'm sorry, that's a bit much left field probably, but I'm really bad at hiding that kind of thing and you should probably know--" NOT LIKE THAT!

Lucifer bit his own tongue to shut himself up. Great going. Who confesses their love they had been vehemently denying to themselves until just a scant few hours ago, while holding onto a mug of cocoa as if it was a lifeline, while crying a whole river caused by their utter and complete emotional overload??

Lucifer apparently. He should probably make a hasty exit. Not before addressing the whole payment thing though, they were both Deal Makers in this room after all.

"I, uhm-- I don't think I have anything valuable enough to pay you back for this, and we both know I can't even measure the value of what you've given me so... Well, you know you can probably ask for just about anything in return, just please don't ask me to hurt my people? Yeah, that would--"

"Give me that." Alastor's voice cut through Lucifer's ramble. Still without filter, but with a sharpness that Lucifer knew all too well, a sharpness that didn't actually cut.

"Uhm. What?"

Alastor only gestured at the steaming mug in Lucifer's hands.

"Oh, uh, it's cocoa, it's very sweet, you wont like it," Lucifer said, but he was already moving, standing up to walk over to Alastor's bed, holding out the mug to him.

Alastor accepted it with long fingers, giving it a contemplating look before taking a long sip. "Eurgh," was the verdict, complete with a super cute nose scrunch, but then Alastor took another sip, and another.

Lucifer could only blink at him, and wipe away the tears that spilled every time he did.

"Oh, there's another thing," Lucifer remembered quite suddenly, pulling out his smartphone, tapping away to pull up the video before holding the phone out to Alastor. It would work better if Alastor held it himself.

But Alastor didn't take it, only squinted his eyes at the paused video. "If it has to do with your tiny picture box, I am sure I do not care for it."

"Oh, you absolutely will," Lucifer grinned, "I can guarantee you will be more than entertained."

Alastor looked up at him, his head slightly angled, looked back down at the phone, squinted his eyes some more, and then sighed, turned to his nightstand. "Where's my--" Oh. Right. Monocle. Uhhh, with the coat, where Lucifer had hung it up after magically changing Alastor into his red silk pajamas. In other words: utterly out of reach on the other side of this very same room; Lucifer summoned a pair of wireframe glasses and held them out.

Alastor looked at him. Looked at the glasses. Clicked his tongue, gave him an annoyed look, though Lucifer imagined his smile was almost fond, and accepted the glasses. Still holding the mug in his other hand, Alastor used his lips to help unfold them, and put them on.

Cute. Cute cute cute--

"Well?" Alastor prompted, and indicated the phone, before returning his hand to hold the mug of cocoa again.

Oh, okay, it was pretty Alastor to avoid touching the phone as if it carried diseases. He could-- Lucifer slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, carefully preventing his boots from touching the bed as he shuffled up against the headboard so he could hold the phone for Alastor to watch the video.

Determining their positions as adequate (close enough, but not even close to touching), Lucifer unpaused the recording.

The clip was from the annual Year In Review With The Vees show thing, Box annoying square jaw front and centre, his cohorts sitting to the side of his moderator desk. They were discussing... something, whatever, didn't at all matter. Because a couple seconds into the video, the screen glitched. A familiar kind of glitch. Red and green around the edges.

"What the fuck??" Box was yelling in response, his colleagues looking at him in confusion. "Why the fuck is the radio prick connecting to my network, get the fuck out, Alastor!!"

"Calm down, darling," the lanky moth purred, "I'm sure your automated routines have it handled."

Box ignored him as the entire screen glitched again. "The fuck even is this? It's just silence. Either way I'll kick your stupid triangle ass back to the curb where you belong, watch me!"

"Hang on, wait!" The girl yelled, but she went ignored too.

Whatever Box tried to do, aside from a crackle of energy that went nowhere, the only thing happening was Box' screen going blank and his body going limp.

And then there was music.

Lucifer's violin to be exact.

Moth man pinched his lips, took a drag from his cigarette. "Welp. Vox is down," he said, somewhere between bored and exasperated. "I'm expecting we'll be losing the broadcast in a moment too. At least he didn't black out the entire city this time."

"Hot damn," the girl mumbled, eyes glued to her phone, "it's everywhere."

"What is?"

"The music shit."

Moth man rolled his eyes. "Obviously. The radio bitch doesn't do things halfway now, does he?"

"No, I mean everywhere. My moots in the lower rings are posting, they all hear it too-- All the way down in damn Sloth."

"What??" Moth man leaned over to stare at the girl's phone too. "Oh fuuuuck, how's bitch doing that?"

And then Michael's viola joined the music and the Vees' broadcast abruptly cut off.

Lucifer paused the video. "One of Angel's colleagues procured this recording, the rest of it is just your broadcast of the Choir. So yeah, in other news: you didn't just reach Heaven, you reached all of Hell. I got a number of confused texts from the Sins too."

Lucifer looked up at Alastor, and promptly lost any and all trains of thought. Alastor's eyes were sparkling, his Cheshire grin stretched wide, utter and complete elation, as he tipped his head back and began laughing, loud and genuine, deep from his soul. "Fucking take that, Vox! Who is number one now, bitch!"

Pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Perfect.

Lucifer was probably gazing at Alastor like an utter loon, but he couldn't stop himself, seeing Alastor's joy was making him happy like only Charlie could, happier even than playing with his siblings and-- urgh, that realisation had the tears flowing again, but what was he supposed to do to stop them? Quit being happy his beloved is happy? Never!

Plenty of long minutes passed filled with Alastor's laughing, and Lucifer soaked them all up like a sponge. He'd hold on to them forever. Forever and ever and ever and--

"Would you quit looking at me as if I hung the stars?"

Lucifer opened his mouth, a 'no can do' already on the tip of his tongue when Alastor continued right on: "Because I am fairly certain you're the one who actually hung the stars, so that role would fall to me."

Well, yeah, he did, but, eh, technicalities-- wait. Waitwaitwait--

Alastor huffed out an amused breath at the wide-eyed look Lucifer was no doubt sporting. "You are a mess, you know that?"

Lucifer could only nod. Because, yeah, he had a couple thousand ducks to prove it.

Alastor rolled his eyes then, with a little smile that actually definitely was fond, before it was interrupted by a yawn so big Lucifer could count every single one of Alastor's sharp teeth.

Alastor plucked the wireframe glasses off his face (sad, still cute though) shifted to lean over to the nightstand to put them down. When he sat back up he took another sip of the hot cocoa, the super cute nose scrunch making a triumphant return, before he handed the mug back to Lucifer.

"Bottoms up," Alastor ordered. "And then get changed."

Lucifer did not choke on the last sip of wonderfully hot cocoa as the second part hit, thank you.

"I-- Uhm-- Ch-- Changed..?" He refused to blush, he refused to blush, he refused-- he was definitely blushing, wasn't he?

"Obviously. I am not having you sleep in my bed in your day clothes."

Yuuuuuuup, definitely blushing-------

"Damn," Alastor mumbled out, so very quietly, probably not intended for Lucifer to hear, but, well, he did, "I knew you have golden blood, why didn't I expect you blushing gold, this is way too fucking adora--" Alastor cut himself off by sharply biting his tongue. Lucifer could pick up the faint scent of Alastor's blood.

The blush was now officially reaching glowing stage, so it was about high time Lucifer vanished the empty mug and engaged in his tried and true strategy of: Hide Behind Your Hands And Pray You Get Your Fucking Act Together, Who Are We Kidding, You Wont.

He had barely lifted his now empty hands to his face when there was a growl deep from Alastor's throat and he lurched forward, his hands encircling Lucifer's wrists (warm, so warm--) and pulling them down and away from Lucifer's face.

"No!" Alastor commanded. "This is mine. You are not hiding it from me."

Okay then. Go ahead, make it worse. Add glowing to the list of emotional responses he can't control or stop next to the tears.

Lucifer was utterly dumbfounded. He had no idea how he had managed to exchange his day clothes for his duck print pyjamas, but he obviously had managed somehow, given the way the cold was suddenly biting into his bare hooves and seeping into him all over. He really should finally get around to putting the thermal enchantment on his pyjamas too. A shiver haunted down Lucifer's spine.

Alastor had already shifted to lie down again, edge of the blanket lifted for Lucifer to join him, and he did, slowly and carefully slipping underneath, ensuring he was staying all the way over on his side of the bed, no chance of accidentally touching Alastor--

"Seriously now? I am the virgin here, why are you behaving like an innocent untouched maiden?" Alastor rolled his eyes, and then he reached out, wound his arm around Lucifer's back and dragged him across the mattress, until they were chest to chest, touching all over and--

"You're warm--" Lucifer gasped out without his permission and immediately proceeded to nuzzle his face into Alastor's chest because warmth--

"You are cold," Alastor responded.

"Oh. Um. Sorry, Serpent of Eden and so on, you see, I'm cursed to feel cold even in Hell's heat--" Lucifer tried shifting away, he wouldn't want Alastor to suffer his cold now, but it only earned him another low growl, and Alastor tightening his hold.

"Don't you dare move away. I am using you as my personal heat sink." Alastor threw a leg over Lucifer's so he couldn't pull those away either.

"Oh, okay, just. Tell me when it inevitably gets uncomfortable."

"It will not."

"It always does, even Lili--"

"Do not mention her name while in bed with me."

Lucifer nodded, a tiny jerking movement. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid, he didn't quite understand what exactly was happening here, but even an idiot would know not to mention the ex-wife--

The hand that Alastor had placed on Lucifer's back shifted upwards, dug into his hair, just so slightly tugged on the strands and then pushed his head forward, making him bury his face against Alastor's wonderfully warm chest again. There was just a hint of give as Lucifer pressed closer still, a tantalising indication of fluffy fur hidden underneath Alastor's clothes and Lucifer sighed as the warmth seeped into him.

"I overheat," Alastor said, finishing the line of conversation from before. "Your cold is soothing, I highly doubt it will ever get uncomfortable."

"Okay," Lucifer mumbled against Alastor's chest.

Silence fell over them.

The darkness of the room was comforting.

The quiet of the night was calming.

However-- "Full disclosure, I'm not done crying and I won't be for quite some time, so you probably don't want my face anywhere close to you, I mean--"

"Do you ever shut up on your own, or do I need to keep your mouth otherwise occupied?"

Ignore the undignified squawk out of Lucifer's mouth please. Also ignore the reinvigoration of his glowing blush. Please. He didn't know what insanity made him shift just enough to be able to look up at Alastor's face, but that was an absolutely horrible idea, seeing the fond little smile, the half lidded eyes, abort, abort--

"Yes-- I mean no-- I mean you could-- But you don't have to I can be quiet on my own I promise I can do silence I just don't know what is happening and am absolutely overwhelmed and nervous and yes please kiss me but only if you want to if that was even that you were implying and--" His waterfall of words was cut off by Alastor gently pressing a finger against Lucifer's lips.

Lucifer harshly swallowed down any other words trying to climb up, his attention struggling to keep up, jumping between the sheer amount their bodies were touching, Alastor's pleasant warmth, the hand still in Lucifer's hair, the finger against his lips, the little amused twinkle in Alastor's eyes--

"You are utterly ridiculous. I honestly can't figure out why after decades of not caring for any of this, it turns out I..." Cute nose scrunch, "Like you."

Blush. Glow. We've been over this, no need to repeat it again, right? Rather look at that little blush climbing onto Alastor's cheeks, fuck, it's so cute, Lucifer wanted to touch it, see if it managed to heat Alastor's already warm skin even more-- Where were his hands anyway? Oh, right, he had pushed them against Alastor's chest at some point to seep up more warmth, they had migrated upwards when he had shifted his face up to meet Alastor's eyes, positioning his hands pretty squarely above Alastor's heart and--

Oh. Oh. Alastor's heart was beating fast.

He was every bit as nervous as Lucifer, wasn't he?

The finger vanished from its position against Lucifer's lips, brushed along his jawline until it slipped underneath his chin, coaxing him into lifting his face further.

The angle was supremely awkward, forcing Alastor to bend down his own head to an uncomfortable degree, but then again his neck was like one of those glow sticks you can snap back and forth until kingdom come, so he probably didn't care and anyway lips!

Alastor brushed their lips together with a sweet gentleness that teetered the edge between inducing diabetes and straight up slow torture.

It felt good. So good. His entire body beginning to tingle kind of good. But it wasn't enough, he wanted more, more more more--

Lucifer shifted his chin up higher, brought one of his hands up to cradle Alastor's cheek (yes, the blush was indeed heating his skin even further), and increased the pressure against Alastor's lips just so, just enough for the contact to allow to transfer movement, and, fuck, Alastor mentioned he never cared before, was he teaching Alastor how to kiss right now??

The answer was yes, apparently. Lucifer settled into a slow rhythm of gentle kisses, and it didn't take Alastor long at all to copy and adjust to the movement of their lips, his hot breaths getting continuously shorter the longer they kissed. Damn Alastor's need to breathe.

It felt too good to stop, really, Lucifer could be doing this forever, bask in Alastor's warmth, feel the softness of his lips, enjoy the tingling joy spreading all throughout his body. Ignore the taste of salt though, because obviously the tears hadn't caught up to the rather significant shift in circumstances. Not that they would care if they did.

Lucifer only managed to pull away when Alastor's gasping breaths reached an outright worrisome shortness, and even then he didn't go far, pressing their foreheads together instead. Their eyes remained locked on each other as Lucifer watched Alastor catch his breath.

Alastor's blush was all over his face now (yes, Lucifer was still equally glowing, who cares) and Lucifer couldn't help himself, gently caressed Alastor's cheek, and whispered: "You are so pretty."

Alastor's breath caught.

Hm. Not his best work in terms of compliments. But Alastor obviously liked compliments (prideful ass), Lucifer could feel the blush growing another degree hotter underneath his fingers. He'd have to step up his game again.

Another dozen controlled breaths later, Alastor cleared his throat (also cute, everything he does is cute). "Are we going to sleep now, or is this what we'll be doing for the rest of the night?"

Hmmm, tempting... Alastor seemed to read the thought right off Lucifer's face, because he did the amused huff again (cuuute). But Alastor did need to rest and Lucifer probably should sleep too if he wanted to stop crying while it was still this year.

So without another word, Lucifer leaned up to steal a final warm kiss and then snuggled back against Alastor's chest, seeking out maximum warmth.

He could feel Alastor chuckle, the soothing sensation of Alastor's fingers gently brushing through Lucifer's hair, all of it settling into this huge puddle of happiness inside Lucifer that was still leaking out.

It was perfect.

A moment later Lucifer was out like a light.