Chapter Text
Somebody has been sneaking books and texts into the library and the offices of the hotel. Lucifer, while struggling with the remembering of names and the processing of details, was pretty good at recognizing patterns and keeping track of lists.
The past few days—The lists of the books have been growing. There’s a pattern, there, too—
He.. doesn’t really have much of a use, especially while in recovery, and—After everything. He hasn’t figured out what to do to make up for anything yet, but— He has time. Lots of it. So, he handles whatever super tedious task is out there still left to do.
The library tends to be the quietest. It’s easier to handle, and most of the residents don’t bother with it.
But—! Back to the odd pattern, and the changing lists—Someone’s been adding more books! But who? Lucifer can guess maybe Alastor or Vaggie? But the topics of the books have been.. not-very-Alastor-or-Vaggie-esque.
Psychology, recognizing signs of trauma, trauma-care, detailed analysis of coping mechanisms for past trauma, mental illnesses stemming from trauma responses…
In a hotel about redemption, filled with boundless amounts of traumatized souls—It makes sense.
Lucifer doesn’t think much of it, besides acknowledging the little pattern and the additions to the lists to keep track of, until—Well, now—
And his mind, on the same topic, remembers one late night of studying, Charlie had fallen asleep at the staff’s lounge table. A book, pillowing her face.
He’d carefully lifted his (not-so) little (anymore :[) girl, moving her to the couch (as to not invade her privacy by entering her room without permission), and placing a soft blanket atop her. Gently, tucking her in and pressing a small kiss to her forehead.
For the book on the table—He grabbed a book marker to place where she left off, and shut it gently, moving it from the table to the coffee table before the couch, and—Made quick, an adjustment of fluffing up a pillow to seamlessly place beneath his daughter’s head for comfort—And noticed the title.
What to Do: Noticing Signs of Verbal and Domestic Abuse.
Lucifer really didn’t think much of it, besides huffing fondly—Proud, his daughter is dedicated to her dreams, stubborn, and so genuinely good, wishing to do her best to help those around her..
He had pressed another gentle kiss to the top of her head before heading off on his own merry way—
Again, until now.
”Uh. What?”
”Dad..”
He’d blinked.
They’d been gathered in what was now deemed the staff lounge/kitchen/dining room. Breakfast, before the busy day began— And—
After he fixed up some pastries and pancakes and all sorts of breakfasty sides and snacks—Usually Alastor or Angel Dust handled the food, but, Lucifer’d actually finally regained enough of his physical strength to hop to it—Like banana slices, grape jam, pre-peeled oranges, etc—He struggled to sleep the night before, so he’d gotten up really early to prepare everything, too but—-
Charlie’d gently grabbed ahold of his hand and repeated her question—Sitting down next to him at the table as the others settled in for the morning.
“Did mom—“
He broke out into a laugh. Adrupt, awkward—So, sickeningly like him.
“Oh, Charlie—No, of course not! She’d never—She hadn’t—We were married for a reason, you know? Haha!” He awkwardly gently nudged her with his elbow, “Aha..”
She looked at him, frown on her face, heart breaking eyes and all— “Charlie..” He frowned, gently bringing his free hand to cup her face, “You don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, alright? Not with me and your mother.”
”We’re fine—Well, aside from the obvious, but—“
”Dad.. just because she said she loved you doesn’t mean she didn’t treat you wrong..”
“She’d never!”
“What, say she loved you?”
Lucifer couldn’t stop the flinch at the stupid radio demon’s voice. He’d forgotten he was there—
The others, too— “Look, Charlie—“
He looked back at her, gently patting her face. “If you want to talk about your mom, I’d be happy to. But, uh, maybe..?”
Noticing his uncertainty as he trailed off—Not wanting to impose or suggest something she wouldn’t want—Charlie nodded.
”We can talk later, somewhere more private.” She said, a small smile on her face as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. And he smiled softly, too.
Despite a sick feeling swirling in the depths of his stomach, he took the small ounce of hope in his little girl’s eyes as reason enough to keep going for the day—Drowning out the clear disappointment having been etched into her features, almost permanently, now, solely because of Lucifer—Fuck. Okay.
It’s fine.. It’s fine. Lilith.. hadn’t done anything like that—She hadn’t done anything wrong.
She had loved both him and Charlie—At least, at one point—She was wrong in just leaving her, their darling girl, without a word. That was wrong, and Lucifer’s never felt angry at her before learning that.
But.. even then? He’s sure she had her reasons. She always does, and—The blame of what happened, the blame of her.. leaving Charlie—That.. even that can’t be placed on her.
It can’t—It was his fault, after all.
Lucifer kinda hoped she’s forget, if he was being honest.
It’s not like the Magne family was unaccustomed to accidental-neglect—He winces at the reminder.
But all day, for the most part, like it has been for the past few weeks; He’d been left to his own devices.
That meant he was left alone with his thoughts; remembering, looking back—Overthinking.
He’d distracted himself by working on different tasks and chores around the hotel—And when those were already being handled, or if there were too many people around to do them without being noticed, he’d mess with a different craft or skill!
Right now? Crocheting—He thinks? It’s like tying knots over and over.
One of the services provided at the hotel were different hobby spaces, and he sometimes got to help out with teaching those hobbies. He’s picked up a lot of them over the years—It’s just, lately, he’s been avoiding some of them. The sinners knew he couldn’t actually hurt them—He could still mess with them; smell their crime; and see their deals and manipulate that in just some way—But, still. Can’t blame a guy for getting anxious over a weakness that can easily be exploited—
That has been exploited. Recently. Too. And—Back then, as well, but he doesn’t want to get into that.
He’s aggressively knit a fairly long scarf by now—Maybe Miffy would have fun with it.
Nifty. Not Tiffy.
Charlie girlfriend had found him there—He got roped up into trying to crochet a giant webbed monstrosity of a blanket with the few sinners who actually took part in these spaces.
They were rambling about making entire forts out of yarn via crochet. Lucifer’d quickly sketched out plans and logistics of what they’d have to do, handing it to them, and getting back at the webbed monster, as the rest bounced ideas off of one another—He zoned out, staying out of the conversation, trying not to eavesdrop and be rude, when Valerie—Vaggi—came to stand beside him, watching him aggressively knit.
”Sir—Lu—Sorry..?”
He flinched, but looked up, giving the best grin he could for the lover of his daughter. “Oh! Hey! Need somethin’?”
“Charlie wanted to talk, and—um—“
Lucifer scrambled to stand right up—
Vaggi, shaking her head, “Come with me?”
”Of course!”
The coffee table was thrown right at his head, if he were any slower in ducking—It would’ve smacked him in the face.
It breaks against the wall, shattering above him, broken pieces falling like hail.
Her voice grew loud—His ears ringing, he couldn’t make out what she said and she always got upset when he couldn’t make out what she said and—
He can’t make her upset. He’s done that too much. She doesn’t deserve that— So why can’t he get up—? Why can’t he stop clutching at his hair—Why can’t he uncurl?
Maybe if he makes himself smaller, she’ll have to deal with him less, and she’ll be less upset.
Maybe if he makes himself smaller—She won’t be angry anymore— Smaller. Be smaller.
Less loud. Less sporadic. More quiet. More reserved. Control. Stay out of the way. Control. Stay out of her way—Control. Control. Control.
”I will not let you make our daughter weak.”
His tail lashes out at the mention of their girl, he almost stands back up to hiss—Charlie is not. She is not, she’s deserving of so much better—
A blinding pain shoots up his spine, an ache pounding at the base of it. A loud crack, echoing, still in his ears.
”She won’t.. not like you.”
He bites his tongue to hold back the wail scratching at his throat, falling back to the floor.
On her way out, the candles are snuffed, framed paintings fallen, and the large doors slammed.
“..Uh..?” He tries to keep a smile on his face, even as awkward as it is. “Soo… what’s up?”
They’re back in the meeting room. Charlie’s standing, and there’s the stupid red-guy there, too. Baggi’s beside him, and Charlie ushers him to sit down.
She places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he struggles not to frown—He fucked up, again, didn’t he?
Was this an attempt to reprimand him less messily than last time? She tries so hard—To make adjustments—To not hurt people, even if they’re like him. She’s too good for this place..
When Charlie and her girlfriend sit, Charlie next to him and Vags on her other side, she clears her throat, hand hesitating to stay on his shoulder.
Lucifer narrows his eyes toward the deer demon, whose eyes are closed, and is nonchalantly sipping some tea.
His attention’s quickly dragged back toward the girls. “Is something wrong?”
“Not exactly!” His daughter chirped, rubbing the back of her neck—He kind of misses the warmth of her hand at his shoulder, but that’s weird, so he doesn’t react to the loss of it. “Just.. You know I’ve been doing more research into things to help out, like with therapies.. symptoms.. coping skills, and all that, yeah?”
Lucifer nods, face breaking into a proud smile, “You’ve been working so hard! I’m proud of you, sweetie. You’re doing amazing.”
Her face softens, and she smiles, “Thanks, dad..”
”Just—I—“ She chews her lip, “I’ve been noticing, too, with..”
He feels himself frown before he could stop it—Maybe he did fuck up. Or—? She needs his help with something!
“Did mom.. ever..”
Did something happen to bring up her mother?
He blinks, a hand on his.
”I-I know it looks different, for everyone, for every situation—But dad..” Charlie’s eyes look so sad, “Please, I need you to be honest.”
Lucifer holds Charlie’s hand as gently yet firmly as he could, heart clenching at the sight of how distraught his little girl is.
He can only nod in response, trying to muster another smile.
”Did mom ever hit you?”
“Well, yeah, of course, why?”
Charlie blinked. Oh. Was he supposed to answer differently?
“Honey, we’re in hell.” He shrugged, “Shit happens.”
So tactful, as always.
“What about before?” Vags asked, a little bolder. Lucifer blinked.
”Yeah, why?”
“I-In what way—Both before and..?” Charlie’s hold on his hand tightened.
He laughs a bit awkwardly, not sure why his question wasn’t really being answered—But that’s fair. He can make do without the answer.
“Uh, the usual, got a little worse after, but returned back to the usual, even kinda stopping later on.” He shrugged. “Er, I think that mostly because.. um. Distance.”
”Define usual. Your majesty.”
Lucifer really could do without the radio demon here.
Charlie’s eyes begged him to appease the asshole— And so he rolled his eyes, waving his free hand as he explained.
Scratching, tail breaking, throwing him by the horns. Often, she’d tell him to stay out of her sight for a long period of time—Sometimes she’d never tell him if he was allowed to go back, so he’d learned how to adjust his schedule to not mess with hers—And whenever he fucked up, it’d be just that. Thrown about, smacked, kicked, whatever helped her.
But! There were some times when she’d offer to preen his wings and help him take care of them.
Those were the nice times, even if it hurt like a bitch—Always a mess, with his feathers and blood everywhere.. She was already taking time out of her day to help take care of him—Something he struggled to do for himself regularly, and he usually made such a mess afterwards.
“Preening isn’t supposed to have blood everywhere.”
Ah. Charlie’s girlfriend looked horrified.
And he shook his head, “Not unless your me. My wings healed wrong, and I grew feathers back in wrong, and so it was always a mess.”
His attempt to ease Vaggy’s distress didn’t work. He frowned, apology at the tip of his tongue—
“Dad—That’s not usual.”
His attention snapped immediately back to his daughter, her free hand was covering her mouth, eyes welling with tears. He panicked, bringing his own hand up to cup the side of her face, “Oh—No, no, no, honey.. don’t cry.”
“It’s alright!” He tried smiling, wiping away her tears, “You’re okay—It’s all good!”
Her lip wobbled as she held onto his hands, both now holding her face. “But—Dad..”
”I’m fine, duckie. You don’t have to cry over me.”
“Would you ask to be harmed in such a way?” Alastor spoke.
“No. Hell, no. I mean, yeah some folk might be into that kinda thing, but I preferred to keep my bones in tact.” He shrugged. “Didn’t really matter for me, either way, though, cuz, usually, angelic healing, poof, baby!”
He did little jazz hands, the slightest bit of magic sparkling out the tips of hid fingers, and a grin, trying to be theatrical enough to bring a smile onto Char-char’s face, too.
It.. didn’t work, and she started sobbing—He deflated, hands gently resting on either side of her face again. “Charlie, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“I threw open the door and threw a chair and hurt you.” Charlie whined, “A-and threw you out, and caused you to get kidnapped, and didn’t know that—That you were down there—And hurt you so bad, and you—You were in so much danger and pain and I never knew—“
”Ducky,” Lucifer pulled her into a hug, wiping away her tears, patting the top of her head, “Ducky—I’m fine. It wasn’t your fault. I’d been stupid, and i’ve been far more severely out of practice with dealing with people than I thought. My actions were my own, what led me to being kidnapped was only my fault—“
”And the fault of the person who kidnapped you, of course. Credit goes where credit’s due! Only fair, don’t you think?”
Lucifer glared at Alastor, holding Charlie closer. He looked back down at his little girl, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s okay. Shit happens, we’re in hell.”
“You don’t have to be worrying over me.” He pulled away, but kept his hands on her face, wiping away at the tears again. He smiled, a soft one, but filled with as much warmth as he could muster. “That’s supposed to be my responsibility, alright, duckling?”
She sniffled, loud, crying. She shook her head, and he huffed a bit fondly.
”I care about you, dad. I love you.” Charlie said between sniffles, “I’m going to worry about you.”
She shook her head, cutting off any of his protests— “Tell me more, please..? Talk about it..”
”..I don’t think I should. I love you, too.. but I think I already said too much.” He wiped her tears with his thumb, magicking up some tissues for her. “You’re my daughter. You have so much ahead of you.. so much to do, and so much heart—There are some things you need not worry over.”
“Your mom and I loved each other. Deeply. Our relationship was different, but that’s because we had centuries upon centuries of time together.” He smiled, fond, “And as your dad, I’m in charge of lessening some of those worries that you need not be weighed down by. Your heart doesn’t deserve to be crushed by these things, I can handle them.”
“You, focus on the things you love, what makes you happy. That’s all you gotta do.”
Charlie sniffled—Breathing steadying back up—But then she broke out into tears again, and Lucifer couldn’t help but tense. “Ducky, please—“
He was pulled into a familiar, crushing embrace, and found himself laughing a bit, patting at his daughter’s back.
She cried into his shoulder, and he held her just as warmly as he could. “It’s okay.”
“It’s okay.”
”Dad..?”
”Yes, sweetie?”
“Promise me—You’ll talk to somebody about.. with all that..?”
“..I’ll try.”
And she held him closer.
“Your highness.”
”Whaddaya want?” Lucifer glared, trying to slam the door shut in Alastor’s face, but the shitty demon’s got his cane between the door and the frame.
”Merely to spend some time checking on the guests of the hotel! And to check up on some things for our dear Charlie!”
Lucifer’s eyes narrow.
Alastor welcomed himself into his room, much to the king’s dismay.
The door shut behind him—Lucifer did not flinch at the sound, no matter what the stupid quirk of a brow indicated from the overlord.
The demon gave a cursory look around the room, before finding a seat at a desk, after carefully removing some duckies piled atop it. Well, as carefully as Alastor could manage.
Folding one leg over the other, the deer demon gave a hum. “Well, have you spoken to anybody?”
”What?”
”You know! About your trauma, of course!”
Lucifer blinked. And stared.
And stared.. and— Oh!
“You—Do you actually care about me?”
Alastor seemed to freeze. A small audio of a record scratch playing—Lucifer snorted.
Those comments—The ones Lucifer thought were just to get under his skin—They were thinly veiled.. condolences? Words of comfort? Lucifer—After the initial glee of being able to tease the annoying bastard—Furrowed his brows, shaking his head.
”Why’s it matter to you?”
”It matters to Charlie.” Alastor eventually responded, leaning back, hands on his knee.
“….” Right.
“..Well?” The demon tilted his head. “Can’t have our king remain all out of sorts, afterall! Can we?”
He grumbled, crossing his arms. “I got it. I got it—Get out, if you’re not here to do anything else of importance.”
”…”
This asshole always had the most unnerving stare. Lucifer hated it. Lucifer hated a lot about this guy.
”What do you want?” He repeated.
”..Let us preen your wings.” Alastor cut to the chase, surprisingly quickly.
He tensed, blinking rapidly. “Huh?”
”Let us preen your wings.”
He jolts back, almost instinctively. “No. Why—? What do you actually want—? Do you realize what that means? What you just asked?”
”When was the last time you took care of them?”
”…..”
”Let us.”
Lucifer fought back against the itch at his arms, struggling to find any words—Preening hurt. It always did—Usually he can handle it.. kind of—But after that box—? He doesn’t think he could hold back his reactions enough to not.. upset them—To not make them more angry with him—He’ll only end up bothering them more, on top of the bother that it already is to even deal with them.
“It’ll be a fun exercise for that can foster better relations between residents of the hotel!” Alastor cheered, almost oblivious to the egregiousness of what he was suggesting. “That’d make dear Charlie rather ecstatic, now, wouldn’t it?”
…Shit.
Fine. Besides—Lucifer—! Doesn’t care if he bothers any of the sinners! They’re beneath him! Why would he care! Nothing more than little ants! But ants are so silly and goofy—Nope! He doesn’t care! Nada, not at all! It’s fine. He’s fine.
..He’s fine.
He blinks toward the.. nest, is what Vanny called it.
Lucifer tries to figure out what he’s supposed to do with that—His daughter’s girlfriend frowning, disappointed in his.. ineptness. He tries harder, eventually just sitting on his knees at one end.
“Have you..? Not made one of these?” She asks, quiet. Alastor and Husk waiting beside her.
He shook his head. “I know they’re—Uh. The things that folk like—Well, us—Would make, whenever in need of a space for our wings, specifically, but.. I haven’t actually been in one in a while—Not one that’s not my own. And my own—Well, You saw it..”
”..Yeah—! It was—Nice.”
It was sweet how she tried so hard to be considerate.
”What’s all this bout nests?” Husk curiously asked, “They good for the back, too?”
Lucifer shrugged, settling in a bit more with Charlie’s girlfriend reassuring him and making things more comfortable by adding more blankets and larger pillows.
She hands him a duck-patterned one that’s as big as his abdomen, and he happily clutches it close to himself, curling around it, as she explains— “Nests are a.. community bonding, kind of thing.”
“They’re places of rest and care.” She works around the room, motioning for the others to settle in as well. “Preening, tending to, and watching over other members of the flock or—what not..”
”Huh.” Was all Husk has to say to that, and Lucifer couldn’t blame him.
”And you’ll teach us how to preen them?”
Alastor being.. cordial and less—Snippy?—Rude—? To Vaggi was.. certainly something. But not unfavorable.
Lucifer remembered—They can’t actually work if he doesn’t.. uh. yeah.
..He takes in a steady breath, the conversation between the three others in the room flying over him as he controls his breathing. And.. he lets his wings unfurl, stretching them out, wriggling his back, as he lets them breath—Like, actually—And just rest, laying there—Limp.
He jolts immediately forwards when he feels a sensation trail across the middle pair, horizontally— Breaking him out of that sort of calm state.
”My apologies, your highness.”
Lucifer just shakes his head, clutching onto the pillow tighter.
”..Let us know whenever it gets to be too much, sir—Lucifer—Lu.” Vaggi speaks, “We can stop as many times as you need, or like. Okay?”
And he can only nod more stiffly at that, wriggling a bit further into the nest to give them more space to work.
Their touches were so.. soft.
The many hands on his wings were a bit overwhelming, he almost wanted to ask if just one person could handle it—But then it’d be a prolonged endeavor, making the act far longer than it deserves to be, taking up far more time than anything deserves to take up whenever it comes to him—And, oh. Oh, that’s nice.
He feels a warm shiver tingle at the base of his wing, the claws he recognizes as Husky’s gently massaging the aching, stiff muscle around where the wing protrudes from. And he all but melts, practically into a puddle. Grip on the pillow relaxing, as the three hotel staff are hard a work.
..Hard at work with far from easy work. He should.. figure out what to do for them, later—Make it up to them—All of this? That they’re doing for him?
Hells, he’s not sure he’ll be able to make it up to them.
His wings keep flinching back, tensing, and randomly twitching at all of their touches—But they still, maintain the relaxed tones of voices—The gentle fidgeting of their fingers—The softness of the room, noise, just- everything.
He might be crying. That—So what if he is—?! That’s nobody’s business but his own—He relaxes further into the pillow, burrowing his head against it..
The degree to which his wings ached and hurt was difficult to realize until the aches and pains were actually starting to be treated. He only realized how much they’d been hurting until after they’d mostly finished picking out the many dead feathers, fanning and fluffing them out, combing through them—Realigning crooked ones, and handling all sorta of stuff with wing and feather care he hadn’t actually been properly taught before—All because they’d wanted to—Because Charlie—
It was so soft. He barely registered the significant lack of the painful stings of handling the barbules or removing the dying or dead feathers, his mind filled with this haze of warmth, making his mind feel all muddled and difficult to.. handle? To focus with? In such a different way than usual—In a way that felt nice. Safe. ..Foreign.
The process took forever. But they stayed.
They worked through it.
They never had to tear at them—Pull and tugging at his wings, themselves—They never had to bleed.
He sniffles, choking back a sob he didn’t even realize was threatening to come out. Fucking—Shit.
How pathetic does he have to be—To cry at the fact people were treating him so softly?
He feels a more frustrated sob bubble at the back of his throat—How could he be so fucking stupid to genuinely believe that that was how preening was supposed to go—? Ripping out the feathers—clawing at the skin—Leaving the muscles they protruded from sore and bruised—
Lucifer knew, before, how it was supposed to go—But—After the fall? They were different—So wouldn’t it be reasonable to suspect they were to be cared for differently?
Fuck. He has to go back to how he cared for his wings before—Which was—What? Like, Not at all? Yeah.
After everything, being given a glimpse of what it was actually supposed to feel like—Just to have to fall back, because, shit, there’s no way he’s going to go out of his way to bother anyone with this again—He won’t be able to—He certainly doesn’t deserve to have this happen in the first place, much less—Ever again. Maybe that’s also an aspect of the punishment he has. Or—Maybe to punish him more, for fucking things up so badly before, with Lilith, with Charlie, with everything— To have a reference for something so soft, so sweet, so cozy—And to never actually deserve it, to never actually have it again.
He’s so fucking pathetic.
”Sir..?”
His throat let out a whimper without his permission.
A pair of hands on his wings stilled, the other, still petting through them, kept moving like nothing happened. The third had departed a while ago, having to get back to work.
”Are you alright..?”
He nods, quickly, scrubbing at his eyes by rubbing his face against the sleeves of his sweater.
“What’s on your mind, Lu?” Damned—Alastor—Shitty Demon Deer—Spoke.
He choked out, “It doesn’t hurt.”
And that caused the Radio Demon’s hands to still as well.
Lucifer sobbed, curling in tighter on himself.
All this time, He tried harder to stifle his cries again, And they never had to hurt so much.
”You understand, now, your highness?”
He sniffled, furrowing his brows.
”Alastor—“
The demon’s hand went back to petting through his feathers, gently—Far more so than anybody would expect from him, far more than Lucifer thinks he deserves.
“She hurt you.” Alastor cut Vaggi off, ignoring her. “She treated you horridly.”
“But—She-But—“ He grit his teeth, fighting back tears, “She didn’t.. She wouldn’t do anything wrong.”
He buried his head between his arms, holding the pillow tighter against himself. “She didn’t do anything wrong..”
“She didn’t.” He sniffled.
Never mind how strange it was that Alastor was acting this way—That Alastor was treating him this way — How long would it take until they grew tired of him? His antics? Until he overstayed his welcome? Overstepped? How long until they realize how worthless it is for them to really care?
”Would you let Charlie think she should let someone treat her the same way?”
”No!” Lucifer’s wings flared out—almost smacking Vaggi and Al, before tensing back up, bringing them closer together—trying to get smaller, biting back another whine, tightening in on himself.
“..You deserve to be treated better.”
His voice came out pathetic, weak, muffled by his arms, “But I deserved it. She—She didn’t—She wasn’t d-doing anything wrong.”
”I deserved it.” I fucked up, I failed, I couldn’t do anything right, I couldn’t be what she wanted, I wasn’t enough, I could never be enough, And I was too much in all the wrong ways— “I deserve that.”
”And do tell, what exactly makes you think that?”
He just laughed at that, because isn’t the answer obvious?
The demon and other fallen angel stayed quiet. Silence blanketed the room tensely.
Al’s hands.. still worked through his feathers—Soft. A bit of a tickle.. but not the bad kind. Vags’ hands, too, stayed gentle as tears continued to fall from Lucifer’s eyes. He stifled the sobs as best he could.