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Lucifer sipped from his mug. “Oh boy, 3 AM!” He joyously thought to himself.
The fallen angel couldn't help but hum a tune to himself. While his insomnia was greatly annoying to him, he had learned to cope with it.
Sipping more hot cocoa from his mug. He loved his mug’s design - the word “deer” lined the top of the mug. Below, an image of a deer as seen through the scope of a gun. The word “season” at the bottom of the mug.
He snickered. “Deer Hunting Season.”
Lucifer stopped snickering. He used to love deer - why did they suddenly become his least favorite animal? Surely one irritable person couldn't change his opinion on an entire species?
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of shoes clacking against stairs, the noise echoing across the living room.
Crap. It was 3 AM (3:32 AM to be precise), and Lucifer was in the living room, about to be spotted by one of the hotel residents while he was donning rubber duck slippers and a bathrobe. His dignity? Doomed. His reputation? Doomed. Lucifer realized he could never show his face again to whoever was walking down those stairs. It was over - absolutely over - and why the HELL was this resident up so early?! Who else could be so mentally unwell, that they’d be lurking outside their living quarters at THREE AM?!
Lucifer heard crackling static from the stairs.
Of course. Alastor. How did he not see that coming?
The realization hit him: He had to get out of there. No one, especially not that damn deer, could see him like this, But how could he discreetly exit?
Wait… he could just teleport out of there.
Why was he freaking out? Why does he always freak out like this?
Lucifer rolled his eyes at his lapse in logic.
With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer was out of the room. Now outside his own room, he walked to his bedroom door.
Lucifer’s hand fell on the handle, but he didn't open the door. Lucifer curled his lip, his mind churning. Of course Alastor would be up at this time - something was clearly wrong with that demon’s head (the fallen angel also knew there was something wrong with his own head, but what is one to do about it?) - but Alastor was obsessed with keeping a reputation of his own.
Why would Alastor leave his room? Of course he loves to strike fear into others, but being seen at 3 AM would not only strike fear into others, but also have him viewed as a crazy old kook (which he was, Lucifer chuckled) - not very gentlemanly.
Loosening his grip on the door handle, Lucifer winced. That deer was up to something - and if he caught him in the act, Lucifer could prove to Charlie that Alastor meant no good - nothing more than a psychopath hell-bent on causing as much pain and destruction as possible.
Lucifer could record Alastor with magic of his own, making Alastor's creepy curse on technology unable to force the visuals to glitch out.
This was his chance.
With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer teleported into the room with Alastor. Cloaked with an invisibility spell, Lucifer scanned the room for Alastor.
In the corner of his eye, there was a figure moving around in the dark. Focusing his eyes, Lucifer saw Alastor rummaging through drawers in not only the living room, but the kitchen as well. The deer demon looked especially disheveled tonight.
Conjuring the recording spell, Lucifer smirked. That deer was B-U-S-T-E-D.
He fantasized about Alastor's reaction to being caught in the act, Alastor was going to act so pouty, ohoho- Lucifer couldn't wait-
A tiny figure ran into the room. “Sir, I found it!”
Who the hell was this?! Lucifer thought to himself. Wait - that was the girl obsessed with ‘bad boys’ - she freaked Lucifer the HELL OUT.
Alastor turned to Niffty’s voice. “Ah, good job, dear.” A gentle smile was on his face, almost hiding the dark circles beneath the deer’s eyes.
Lucifer was taken aback by the demon’s reaction. It could be described as… fond? Filled with care? No, no, no, no, no. Lucifer reeled his mind back to the mission at hand. Alastor was looking for something, and the eccentric monster found it. Perhaps Lucifer was too late?! Perhaps Alastor already succeeded in his evil plans?!
“Now, come here, darling,” Alastor instructed. Niffty quickly scurried over to him, and Alastor knelt to meet her at eye level. She handed him a bottle of something, and Alastor flinched slightly at the brush of her hand. He pumped the bottle, a thick substance spilling into his palm. Lotion. The deer gently cupped Niffty’s hands, carefully massaging the lotion into her skin.
Lucifer blinked. This was not what he expected.
Alastor sighed. “You needn’t wash your hands so much.”
“But germs are everywhere…” Niffty responded.
“Niffty, dear, your hands are like sandpaper. Please, once is enough.”
Niffty frowned. “But it's not enough! Germs get people sick! If I get sick, I could spread the sickness to someone else! Maybe KeeKee!” Niffty looked around frantically “I don't want to kill KeeKee! I don't-”
“Niffty.” Alastor sternly said. Niffty looked up. Alastor sighed. “Just… remember to put on lotion after you wash your hands…”
“... Okay…”
Lucifer blinked, bewildered, unable to look away. Alastor actually cared about Niffty? Could it be that Alastor was capable of caring for others? His thoughts spun as he watched Alastor gently rub the lotion into Niffty’s hands. A strange sensation stirred within him—something he couldn’t quite identify. It was a mix of sadness, yet oddly sentimental.
Niffty blinked, her eye becoming misty.
Alastor's gaze not straying from Niffty's hands, he blinked. “What's wrong, darling?”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. Alastor wasn’t supposed to care. Alastor was a deranged psychopath. What was going on?
She frowned, her voice thick with nostalgia. “I miss papa…” The word “papa” rolled off her tongue, the ‘a’ pronounced sharply, almost like “pah-PAH,” the rhythm of her speech carrying the unmistakable cadence of her heritage.
Lucifer blinked, a sharp tightness stabbed him in the chest as Niffty’s “papa,” echoed through his head. “Papa.” An image of Charlie from long ago flickered through his head.
A crackle of static emanated across the room. Alastor sighed. “I know, darling,” he whispered. “I miss my…” Alastor’s sentence faded into silence, his eyes giving an empty look. “It’s hard to lose someone… someone who truly matters…”
“Papa used to help me with my hands…” Niffty sniffed. “I wish I had just a bit more time to be with papa…” Niffty blinked, tears streaming down her face. “But the scary people took him away…”
Alastor's eyes narrowed as Niffty mentioned “the scary people”. Dials faintly spun within them.
Niffty started shaking, gasping as her pants started turning into uncontrollable sobs.
Lucifer felt a tear roll down his cheeks. What had Niffty gone through?
Alastor looked at Niffty in silence, his expression faltering. His eyes were dim, accompanied his gums showing in his smile. Without a word, he pulled Niffty into his arms, his movements stiff and awkward. Niffty continued crying, her sobs muffled as she screamed into Alastor's chest.
Recoiling at the unexpected sympathy from the Radio Demon, another tear rolled down Lucifer's cheek. He watched as the deer’s antlers grew, casting shadows against the wall. Instinctively stepping back, Lucifer glared. There he was. The monster he knew… nothing more… right…? His thoughts raced as the fallen angel watched Alastor’s smile become more strained.
“Taken away for being a J-jap…” Niffty gasped between breaths. “J-japs… Nothing more than a Jap…”
Static once again emanated across the room. “These wretches in power…” Alastor muttered, venom apparent in his voice. “Thinking that they could treat others in such a way because they are different…” Alastor's barely held together smile widened across his face, turning into a monstrous grin, his eyes pulsing red. “They deserve nothing more than pain and suffering.”
Lucifer shakily exhaled. Nothing more than a monster…
“They always looked at me…” Alastor muttered, his voice filled with cold resentment. “As if I didn’t belong with them… as if I didn’t deserve to be in their presence…” A chuckle escaped from him. “And why? Because I was… different.” He said, with a mocking tone. “Because I was…” His comedic tone faded away. “Because I was… Black…”
Niffty looked up at Alastor. “It’s nice being able to talk to you about these things… You're the only I've met who understands… What it feels like…”
Silence.
Niffty suddenly smiled. “But you did it… You were so fun to be around that they gave you a pass!”
Alastor's smile softened. “Yes, yes, that's true…” The deer’s smile stretched across his face, transforming into an evil grin. “So fun that they never saw what was coming…” A chuckle escaped him and transformed into a resonant laugh.
Lucifer's eyes widened in fear - he knew what Alastor was implying he did. Lucifer bit his lip. But did they not deserve it?
Niffty giggled at Alastor's maniacal comment. “You're so funny, Sir!” She wiped her tears away. “So, what are we gonna do?” She bounced up and down. “Can we play?!” Before Lucifer knew it, Niffty started scurrying between places, rapidly explaining about a roach puppet show she’d been planning.
“Niffty, dear!” Alastor called.
Niffty stopped. “... Sorry…”
“It's okay, darling,” Alastor hummed. “I do know how you feel!~ Ah, you remind me of when I was younger.”
Niffty blinked. “I'm biologically 22.” She innocently smiled. “91 years old overall.”
“And I'm biologically 33…” Alastor muttered under his breath. “126 years overall…” Regaining his composure, Alastor breathed in deeply. When he exhaled, his usual smile was back on his face. “When I was 11, I was scurrying around the way you are now!~” He chuckled to himself. “My maman says I was quite the handful!”
“... I was so scatterbrained… losing things, jumping from one place to the next…” Alastor sighed. “I didn't understand anything… People… Rules…” Alastor laughed. “It was as if everything I did broke a rule…” Alastor bit his lip. “Combined with my emotional instability, from my excitement to my anger, to my social ineptness, I got a lot of… scoldings from everyone…” Alastor's joy in his speech faded to a resigned, empty indifference.
Lucifer blinked. He felt Alastor. He knew what it felt like. Lucifer… related to Alastor.
Niffty frowned. “We're really different… from everyone else…”
“Yes,” Alastor muttered, bitterness laced in his voice. “And I suppose that was too much for everyone else to bear…” The edges of his smile faltered, a cold, empty expression replaced its usual upbeat appearance.
“Well,” Niffty smiled again. “At least we have each other…”
Alastor froze. An emotion flashed through the deer’s eyes. Static crackled through the air, a voice echoed through Lucifer's head. “Attachment only leads to pain. You should know that by now.”
Lucifer flinched. What was that? He didn't think that… Sure, that's how the angel felt sometimes, but those weren't his thoughts. He couldn't explain it, but he just knew those weren't his thoughts.
Eyes widening, he realized: Those were Alastor's thoughts. He stared at Alastor, whose eyes were radio dials, then turned to Niffty, who didn't seem to hear anything, as she was now attempting to decapitate a roach.
With a sigh, Alastor opened his mouth. “Well, dear, I suppose it's time for us to return to bed.”
“Okay.” Niffty went up to Alastor, and Alastor picked Niffty up as if she was his child.
When Charlie was young, Lucifer would hold his sweet daughter the same way. He reminisced over those days, trying to ignore the new information of Charlie being older than his arch-nemesis.
Watching Alastor carry Niffty up the steps, Lucifer fiddled his fingers. How long had he been there? He checked the clock. 5:54 AM.
A few seconds passed, only for Lucifer to sigh. He hated Alastor. He wanted to hate Alastor. He wanted to feel nothing but cold rage towards that damn deer. But so much lies beneath the surface. Alastor wasn't as one-dimensional as Lucifer thought… but was anything that simple?
If blood will flow…
Lucifer went over the conversation he wished he hadn't witnessed in his head. So much. Lucifer sighed as he remembered Niffty sobbing into Alastor. Wait. “Jap”.
And flesh and steel are one…
Lucifer knew that word. That horrid, horrid word.
With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer was in his room.
Drying in the colors…
Lucifer ran over to his bookshelves. He turned to a singular bookshelf labeled “Earth History.” He flew to the top of the shelf.
Of the evening sun…
Lucifer frowned at a sticky note attached to the top. “Way to go Dum-dum, look how messed up the world is.”
Tears creeped into Lucifer's eyes. Now he was seeing victims of humanity's wickedness before his eyes. “Way to go Dum-dum.” He repeated to himself.
Tomorrow's rain…
His hand flew over the books, which were arranged in chronological order, from Mesopotamia to the Dark Ages to the Age of Exploration. Lucifer scanned the dates.
There it was.
America From Its Founding to the 1950s
Grasping the book, Lucifer glided down to the floor. He attempted to land, but his legs gave out. He crashed to the floor.
He was pitiful.
Will wash the stains away…
He tried to stand again, but he realized his legs were shaking.
It dawned on Lucifer: His whole body was shaking.
But something in our minds will always stay…
His body sprawled over the floor, Lucifer blinked back tears. Realizing he couldn't stand up, Lucifer opened the book.
Perhaps this final act was meant…
“Table of contents,” Lucifer muttered, his voice nothing but an empty whisper. His eyes sifted through the page, only for one chapter’s title to capture his attention. “Plessy v. Ferguson; 1896”
To clinch a lifetime's argument…
His hand shaking, Lucifer turned to the page connected to the chapter. Lucifer’s breath quickened as Alastor’s words echoed through his mind - “I was seen as inferior because I was… Black.” A chill ran through his spine as he read about the horrid mistreatment, hatred, and segregation.
That nothing comes from violence…
Tears rolling down his face, Lucifer turned a few pages. “Executive Order 9066.” The words blurred as Lucifer read about Roosevelt's decree for all of Japanese descent to be placed in Internment camps, including children, some separated from their families. Armed guards lining the barbed gates.
And nothing ever could…
The book slipped out of Lucifer’s hands, tears streaming down his chin.
For those born beneath an angry star…
Free will.
Lucifer's gift of free will caused this injustice. This monstrosity.
‘Lest we forget how fragile we are…
What had he done?