Chapter Text
“You know, if you wanted to leave, we could.” Lucifer made a move to softly place his hand upon hers, soft and lithe.
“We can’t, you can’t.” Lilith’s gaze hardened, curling her fingers into a fist under his touch.
“They’d be fine without me, Lili. It'd be better for Charlie, and would be better for us in the long run as well.” He lifted her hand to his chest, bringing those steely eyes to cast their attention on him instead of the floor.
“It’s not that simple, Lucifer.” Her chest heaved with a heavy breath, “You’re the eldest child, the future of the family. You can’t abandon them. Not for me.”
“I’d do anything for you.” He squeezed her hand, biting his lip softly when she looked away, eyes back down to the concrete below them.
“I–” Lilith took in another deep breath, lifting her head and looking up to the ceiling, “I know you would. But, the problem is. I don’t want you to.”
The soft smile that had been on Lucifer’s face faltered, “What?” He asked, voice pained.
Lilith blinked quickly, willing away tears before they flowed down her cheeks, “Lucifer. You’ve been so good for me. Better than anything I ever could’ve ever prayed for. But, I can’t stay here any longer, this isn’t my path.”
“Not…” He was dumbfounded, shocked, “Not your path?”
She brought her beautiful blue eyes to him, tears welling in them. He’d always loved how they were deep enough to look purple in hue. His beautiful Lilith. His one and only. Til the end. Right?
“This is where you’re meant to be. To be with your family. To lead with pride. I can’t be contained here, I cannot be forced to continue to work under these conditions, tied down by these traditions and concepts that I’ll never truly be attached to.”
“Lil, you’re part of the family too. What–” He let out a short laugh in disbelief, “What are you even talking about right now.”
“I’m leaving, like you said. But not with you. Not with Charlie. You two are staying here, it’s the only decision that will work in everyone's favor.” Lilith explained, once again willing her tears away and standing gracefully. The hand that had been in Lucifer’s pulled away as if it had been rested on a hot iron.
“Lilith–” Lucifer stood, disorientingly fast. He attempted to make contact again, to join their hands once more.
She pulled her hand close to her side, back turned to him, “Don’t follow me. Don’t contact me.” She turned her head over her shoulder, the tears were back, “Please take care of Charlie.”
“LILITH! WOAH WO–” Lucifer shot up in bed, his heart beating a million miles a second. He rose so quickly that his heavy duvet tangled around his torso and he toppled over the side of the bed in a wretched mess of sweat and tears.
“Fuuuck…” He groaned, lifting a hand to his head, which had just collided roughly with the hardwood.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling, legs bent over the side of the bed, wrapped up in the many blankets he slept with for any sense of comfort he could find. As he laid on his back he lifted his right hand into the air, longingly looking at the golden band adorning his ring finger. He couldn’t bear to take it off, it would be wrong. It would make it all feel final. As if her being gone for four years didn’t make it final enough.
Eventually, after who knows how long, Lucifer decided to detangle himself from the wreckage and get up off the cold floor. He stood, attempting to rearrange his sleeping clothes, as if he had any need to be presentable whatsoever.
As he picked up the covers strewn across his feet to place them back on the bed, he glanced over to the clock on his bedside table. Only 7 am. Surprisingly early for him on a Saturday.
Charlie would sleep in for at least another hour or so. Perhaps he would actually use this time to be productive for once. He sat on the edge of the bed, fighting the urge to sink slowly into the mattress, wondering if he should just let it consume him again. Consume him like it usually did. Maybe if he went back to sleep he could reenter that dream and convince Lilith to stay with him. But, it would still be nothing more than a dream. There was nothing he could do about something that had occurred years before.
Before he could be sucked down into that familiar black pit, he stood and smacked his hands on each side of his pale face. It stung and he could feel his cheeks heat up, likely leaving behind a red stain of blood rushing to the surface. Lucifer snatched his phone up, swallowed his pills for the day, and made his way to the door of his bedroom.
Hopefully Charlie hadn’t heard his fall, he thought as he quietly stepped into the hallway. He tiptoed down the corridor and peeked into Charlie’s room, her door left ajar as usual. She laid in her bed, dead to the world, curled around a giant ducky stuffie that Lucifer had won for her at the last Pride City Annual Fair. The sight brought a smile to his face. It also brought something he hadn’t felt in awhile: inspiration.
Lucifer straightened up, backing up into the hallway and bringing a hand up to his chin. He felt the desire to paint burn deep in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that he hadn’t experienced in God knows how long.
He made his way to their mess of a living room, rummaging through his old supplies to see if there was anything usable lying around anymore.
“No… No…” He threw an empty tin and tube of old oil paint behind his back, there had to be a set around here that wasn’t crusted.
He heard small footsteps come into the room. Dammit.
“Charlie!” I’m so sorry, I didn’t wake you did I–”
“Meow!” Keekee greeted him
He was fully turned now, looking down at the small black and white cat sitting in front of him, blinking her large yellow eyes slowly at him.
His lip shot out in a pout and he crooned, “Awh, hewwo Keekee!” He knelt down to pet her soft fur, her body already vibrating from her aggressive purring. He curled his fingers under her chin, giving her some gentle scratches. His eyes wandered to the side and spotted a box under the couch, an unopened set of paints no less!
“Aha!” He tore his attention from the cat and dove under the couch, pushing junk to the side and grabbing the set of paints. Once it was out in the light he sat in a criss-cross position and tore the top off of it.
He rummaged through the materials. His excitement degraded back into disappointment as he realized that this set was just as old as all the others had been, the paint was completely dried up or emptied out. Curse his past self for never throwing anything away and keeping things in the boxes they came in!
“Well, there’s always charcoal.” He wasn’t going to be defeated. If he didn’t currently have the power to paint, he’d draw.
About 20 messy scrawlings on old newspaper pages later, Charlie made her debut into the living room. Her eyes lit up when she saw her Dad sitting in the middle of the room, his fingers stained a dark black gradient from using the charcoal.
“Dad! You’re drawing!’ She announced, excitedly bounding over to him, hoping to take a look at his new creation.
Lucifer, drawn out of his focused creative state, pulled the page of the large sketchbook to the side, nearly knocking the easel over in the process.
“Uh-uh! Not yet! It’s a surprise.” He brought a finger to his lips as if keeping a secret.
“Dad!” Charlie whined, crossing her arms and pouting up at him.
“C’mon Char-Char! It’ll be great once it’s done but right now it’s gotta be a secret. It’s for you, so you can’t see it until it’s finished.”
“Hmm,” She pondered, still upset, “But I want to see it now. I haven’t seen your drawings in a really, really long time!”
Lucifer gave her a little chuckle and flipped the page to the one he’d previously drawn on. It was a mess of ducks from all angles, a warm up page if you will. He turned the book to her and saw as she brightened even more, obviously satisfied that she had seen at least some of his new artwork.
“They’re so cute, Dad!” She hopped up and down.
“Now, is it okay that we keep the other piece a secret?” He asked, closing the book and sliding off the stool he’d been seated on.
“Mhmm!” She nodded, “I can wait now!”
“Great!” He picked up the girl, placing her on his hip, “How would you feel about a little daddy daughter date today? We can go get some pastries and head over to the art supply store.”
“Yes!!” Charlie whipped her hands up over her head in excitement, nearly punching Lucifer in the face.
“And we can go to the park to play!” She added as he walked her back to her room to get ready for the day.
“Of course we can.” He beamed, the sensation of creativity lifting his spirits.
Charlie swung his hand aggressively as they walked down the main street of Pride City. The town was bustling at this time of day, pedestrians crowded the sidewalk on a beautifully sunny Saturday morning. Lucifer held tight to his daughter’s hand, afraid the crowd might sweep her away if he loosened his grip for even a second.
They were heading to his favorite art supply store, Rosie’s, a small shop that was combined with a specialty boutique that sold vintage clothing (and sometimes homemade pastries). He loved the woman who ran it, sweet and sociable, Rosie was just the person to urge him to continue with this creative spark.
The familiar tinny sound of a little bell rang as they entered the shop, Charlie took no time to release herself from his grasp and went running over to the counter to look for Rosie.
Lucifer walked closely behind her, his head on a swivel as he looked at the art supplies while also keeping an eye out for his friend.
“Is she here?” Charlie asked, bouncing up and down on her heels, tiny fingers gripping the side of the countertop.
“I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.” Lucifer hummed out, attention stolen by a brand of oil paints he’d never seen before. He crouched down to get a closer look at them, back to Charlie and the counter.
“Oh my! Well, isn’t my favorite little Princess!” Rosie’s sweet voice broke the quiet of the store.
Charlie squealed and ran over to the woman who had just come from the back of the store, likely finishing up some stitching for her client work.
“Rosie!” The girl leapt into her arms as Rosie kneeled to the ground to receive her.
“How are you, my sweet?” She laughed, lofty and soothing.
“I’m great! Dad and I are on a daddy-daughter date! We’re gonna go to the cafe after this to get some snacks after he picks up some paint. He was drawing duckies when I woke up!” Charlie explained, rapid fire with her words.
“Luci, dear, you were drawing?” Rosie asked, bringing her deep brown eyes up to him, pooling with unspoken enthusiasm.
Lucifer gave a shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah. I got a stroke of inspiration this morning. But I, uh–”
I’m out of paint because everything I’ve ever bought from you has dried up or been unused for years because I’m a sack of depressed shit who can’t even pick up a pencil
“I used up all my paint.” He ended up with
Rosie made a knowing noise, standing up from her position with Charlie and straightening out the fashionable dress she wore.
“It’s nice to hear that you’re back at it. Please, take all the time to find what you need.” She offered a gentle smile.
He’d never told the woman that he didn’t really paint anymore, hadn’t told her that the supplies he came in for were always for his art classes and not for himself, but she could tell. She was an intuitive person, Lucifer was surprised he’s never spilled his guts to her. He bet she’d be a fantastic listener and advice giver.
“Thanks, Rosie. Mind if I ask you to keep an eye out for Charlie while I look around?” He asked.
“Of course, dear. She’s safe with me.”
Lucifer nodded, looking at Charlie, “You know where to find me. Don’t wander off. Listen to what Rosie tells you!”
“Yeah Dad, I got it!” Charlie waved an annoyed hand at him, stop being overbearing Dad. We’re literally in the same shop, her eyes said.
He exhaled sharply with amusement. He knew she’d rather chat with Rosie and look at the pretty vintage dresses instead of walking around the shop looking at the same 2 sets of paint, trying to decide which was a better option.
He meandered over to the paint section and began his search, picking up the set he usually bought and the other new brand he hadn’t seen before. He felt a bit out of practice in the store. When he came in on a normal day he left with googly eyes, pipe cleaners, markers, and glue. It’d been a while since he’d enjoyed the fine art section of the store.
He ran his fingers along the canvases as he walked by them. He should probably get one, if this painting was going to make it out of the sketch stage. So what was it that he needed…
Paint, canvas, possibly some new brushes, gamsol, gesso… jeez this list was getting extensive.
He heard the shop bell ring again. He told himself it was just another customer coming in before his anxious mind could tell him that it was his daughter leaving without his permission.
He continued to pursue the aisles for a time longer. The anxiety was building as he noticed no new bodies in the shop. Surely not. Right?
He shook his head and picked up one of the baskets that was the beginning of the aisle he was in. As he was filling it, he couldn't ignore the pit in his stomach.
“Rosie–” He said, coming back to the front of the store, trying not to be frantic.
“Yes?” She answered, up at the register, fixing up some items for display.
“Where’s Charlie?” He gulped, anxiety clawing up his neck.
Rosie looked up, concern etched in her expression, obviously picking up on the anxious tone of his voice.
“Not to worry, dear. She’s just gone to the flower shop next door. I’ve got a friend–” The rest of the sentence blurred for Lucifer, the anxiety making his head fuzzy.
He couldn’t even respond, his heart beating in his ears. He ran to the door, basket still in hand and wretched it open, blatant disregard to his own strength.
Where is she? Next door? She can’t be out on her own. What if she gets kidnapped? Ran over? Stolen? Hurt? Gets scared? What if–
“Oof!” As soon as he turned to exit out of the shop he was stopped by a large mass heading in his direction. The basket of art supplies he had been carrying was flung up in the air at incredible speed due to the fast pace he had been walking. To make it worse, the quickness of his motions against such a stable blockage managed to knock him on his ass.
He took in a sharp breath, readying himself to yell his head off at this stranger who’d knocked him over! How dare this person get in the way of him getting to his daughter! He needed to find Charlie! Charlie…
Who was standing right in front of him?
Holding flowers?
Next to a pair of extremely well polished red loafers?
“Are you alright, sir?” A voice asked, deep and playful, obviously hiding a smirk while staying polite.
“Dad!” Charlie giggled, her hands coming up to her mouth in surprise at her own laughter.
Laughing at her father’s misfortune. At least he was hearing her laughter. He felt his body let go of the tense anxiety that had gripped him moments ago. He looked up further and noticed a hand offered to him, the man that had knocked him over.
He took the stranger’s hand before looking up at the man’s face. He couldn’t bring his eyes up to the other, hoping that he wasn’t blushing too intensely now as he replayed that last minute over and over in his head.
“Look, I’m so sorry for running into you–” He finally glanced up at the man. Handsome man.
The stranger was looking at him with half lidded eyes, his lips quirked in a delicate grin. A grin that looked like it could be the natural state of his face. His eyes warm pools of golden brown, sharp and calculating despite staying welcoming and calm. They matched the warm tone of his deep umber skin, paired with a sharp jawline and curly brown hair in a stylish cut. His outfit looked like he’d walked straight out of a black and white film from days past, a slim-cut red pinstripe suit with pressed black slacks and clear wide rimmed glasses.
He was snapped out of his trance when the mystery man cleared his throat. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the man, or holding his hand.
“Oh! Sorry!” He dropped the man’s hand, “Again– So sorry, I ran into you. My daughter has disappeared and I was worried so I came running, I obviously wasn’t paying any attention so, yeah, sorry.” He rambled incessantly.
The man joined his hands behind his back, “It’s no problem. I was actually coming to return dear Charlie. So, it may as well have been fate that we bumped into each other.” That easy smile was so captivating, Lucifer was having trouble hearing the words that those lips were saying.
“Mister Al was bringing some flowers over to Rosie! I helped him pick out the best ones.” Charlie beamed beside the man, looking up at him.
‘Mister Al’ nodded along, “Indeed. Her input was very insightful.”
“Ah, well, that was nice of you Char-Char.” An unsure smile crossed his face. He wanted to scold her for running off but she was doing something nice… And she wasn’t that far.
And she’d brought this handsome guy here, so…
“Al, is it?” Lucifer asked, shifting his attention to the taller man. So tall actually. Lucifer had just noticed that the guy towered over him by at least a foot.
“Alastor,” He held out his hand again, “A pleasure to be meeting you! Sir?”
Lucifer took his hand, shaking it this time instead of awkwardly gripping onto it for an inappropriate amount of time.
“Lucifer.” He said, wondering if eye contact with people is always this intense or it’s just this guy.
“The devil himself, hm?” The man grinned, those eyes pierced through Lucifer’s soul. Who was the devil here exactly because it looked like his man wanted to eat him alive.
“Ahaaa, yeah, I get that a lot. My parents were… eclectic.” He glanced to the ground nervously, seeing that his art supplies were still scattered around their feet.
“Shit! I forgot about all that.” He dropped down to pick up his discarded items. Grateful when Charlie joined in and started placing things back in the basket. He dropped everything in and picked the basket up, noticing that Alastor had picked up the canvas he’d flung halfway down the sidewalk in his haste.
“Here.” The man all but purred, “You’re an artist, I take it?”
“My dad is the best artist around! He’s a painter!” Charlie interrupted excitedly, now standing next to her father proudly.
Lucifer nodded in return, taking the canvas from Alastor's open grip.
“Beautiful.” Alastor spoke in a soft inquisitive tone, an almost familiar tone, “It is always nice to see that the traditional arts are still upheld. I’d consider myself a bit of an artist as well.
“Are you? What do you do?” Lucifer asked, watching as the taller man straightened in excitement to speak about his art.
“Why, I host a radio show! I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” He ran a hand down one of the lapels of his suit jacket, Lucifer’s eyes naturally following the movement, “Most call me the Radio Demon. The show is all about vintage music, arts, and sometimes some town gossip when the mood strikes.”
Both Lucifer and Charlie lit up in recognition, “Oh!” They managed to speak at the same time.
“Dad played you in class yesterday! He brought out this old-timey radio and you were there on it!” Charlie explained.
“Class, you say?” His eyes trailing from the girl to her father.
“Dad is my art teacher! At Central Pride academy! You should come to our class, everyone really liked your show.” She smiled brightly.
“An art teacher? Now that, I did not expect.” Alastor’s eyes lingered on the supplies in Lucifer’s hands before coming back up to his face.
“Yes. I am. That. An art teacher. My only job!” He awkwardly leaned forward with a swing of the arm. He knew he had recognized this guy's voice. Now all he could think about is if Alastor might know about his position in the family business. Surely if he’d done his research before talking ‘gossip’ on his show he would’ve found something that would indicate Lucifer (not a very common name) as the eldest son of the Sins.
Then again, he did try to erase every single piece of himself off the internet. So, maybe he doesn’t know anything. But something about the man's gaze has him on edge.
The silence between the group grew for a moment, Lucifer now of a sounder mind, taking in the man in front of him once again. This time noticing that he had streaks of black down the front of his red suit jacket.
Lucifer looked down at his fingers and then back up at the man, “I– I think I may have gotten some charcoal on your jacket…” Ink as well, stupidly he had been testing pens on his hands while he was in the store.
Alastor looked down, lifting his gaze slowly back to Lucifer with a smile, “Not to worry, it was in need of a dry clean anyways.”
Lucifer shivered at the tone, there was a sharp edge on that lilting voice.
“No, I insist I’ll pay for it to be cleaned! It’s my fault after all! I’ll take it over and everything.” Lucifer spat out quickly, nearly tumbling over the offer.
Alastor gave him an amused look and instead of fighting the offer like Lucifer assumed he would, he just nodded, “Alright. That would be appreciated.”
Weird. Lucifer furrowed his brows as the man began to gracefully take off the coat.
He handed it over to Lucifer. Who had his hands full, actually. And upon seeing that fact, tossed the coat into the crook of his arm.
“Take care of it for me.” He patted Lucifer on the shoulder, like a child, that edge to his tone back in his voice.
Offense taken? Lucifer could feel his feathers ruffle. He was offering to be nice but he wasn’t some kind of servant. He frowned. Who did this guy think he was?
He watched as the man decided to be done with this conversation and walked over to the door of Rosie’s, “Aren’t you going to pay for that?” He asked over his shoulder, opening the door.
“Of course I am!” Lucifer huffed, walking in before Alastor got the chance, Charlie in tow behind him. Completely oblivious to the change in the atmosphere.
“Rosie! Sorry I barged out like that.” He said, with a smile on his face as he placed the basket on the countertop.
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, doll.” She began to ring up the items, “It’s my fault anyways. I asked her to go help my dear Alastor pick some flowers up for me.”
“You two know each other?” He asked, looking over to the shadow of a man, standing in the doorway, his tall frame taking up the space.
“Yes!” She beamed, “Alastor here has been one of my closest friends for years now! We met only days after I moved into the city and ever since he’s been my rock and trusted confidant. Where do you think he gets all the gossip for that little radio show of his!” She winked.
Lucifer was glad now that he’d never spilled any of his many secrets to her.
“Rosie is the best pot of knowledge in town after all! Though there are things even she doesn’t know.” Alastor said, boring a hole into the side of Lucifer's face with that stare.
“Hey! I know everything, young man. Don’t you even get me started.” She retorted, taking Lucifer’s payment and finishing up his order.
They stood in silence as Rosie finished ringing him up. Lucifer glanced to Alastor, wondering if he had come in to speak with Rosie and wasn't speaking to her because he was here. It made him uneasy. The man was a bit too mysterious for his liking.
“Thanks for everything, Rosie.” Lucifer said when she handed him his bags. He tucked Alastor’s suit jacket across his other arm and took hold of Charlie’s hand.
“Of course, sweetie! Come back anytime.” She leant across the countertop, giving him a small wave as he walked towards the exit. Past Alastor.
“How should I get this back to you?” Lucifer asked, craning his neck slightly to look up at the man.
“Bring it to my station. Any day in the afternoon this coming week will work.” He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled an address down.
“Too much of a stranger to just give me your phone number? A text would’ve sufficed.”
“Bold of you to ask for my number. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have one.”
“You don’t have a cell phone?” Lucifer deadpanned.
“I don’t care for them, no. And besides, if I did, I wouldn’t be giving my number out to individuals who don’t wash their hands before leaving their homes.” His grin was something wicked. Another out of the blue jab.
Lucifer grimaced, cursing the fact that he had Charlie in tow and couldn’t give this guy a good comeback.
“Whatever.” He said smartly instead, snatching the paper out of Alastor’s hand and opening the door, “See you around.”
He looked down at the paper, and there in flowy confident writing:
Alastor LeBlanc
300 Envy Way
Wash your hands next time.
Unbelievable.