Chapter Text
He brushed his charred hand over his bare chest, flinching as he hit the yet-to-heal scars. Despite being an immortal ex-angel, he still had yet to heal from the angelic weapons. Well, if he ever healed at all.
Shame washed over him. What would Lilith think when she saw this? Would she be repulsed? Despise him?
He stepped back, flinching. His entire body still hurt even with the weeks that had passed since the war. He couldn’t take it anymore.
Lucifer bent over, clutching his burning abdomen. He hadn’t taken his pain meds in a while. Dammit.
He reached out for his desk, grabbing hold of the pain meds. They sat right beside his depression pills.
Not caring for overdose, he downed around ten. Anything to flush the pain away.
Sighing, he sat back on the floor, feeling more alone than ever. The sounds of sinners in the hotel echoed faintly to his room, showing the liveliness in the previously near-empty building. He was happy for Charlie, he really was, but oh God did it hurt to help her achieve that happiness. And, selfish as the thought was, he was upset he wasn’t given any thanks.
She barely checked up on him, barely bothered to care. The only times she spoke to him were when she needed him to do something. It made him feel a bit used, but he would continue to support her because she was his daughter... even if she made him feel like he wasn’t thought of as her father.
It didn’t take long for the pills to kick in. He felt a little high. They were really strong meds, after all. Prescribed by Belphegor herself.
Lucifer stood up, a little shaky. The pain was still present, though thankfully lessening. He put his shirt back on, struggling to button it. His damn wrists hurt like hell, making every movement in his hands burn.
Knock, knock, knock.
His head shot up. “Who is it?!”
Lucifer perked, waiting for a response. He grumbled in annoyance to himself when he didn’t hear anything. He gave up on buttoning the top half of his shirt, heading over to the door and opening it.
“Why hello ther-”
He slammed it shut.
...
Knock, knock, knock.
“Lucifer isn’t home right now, please try again later!” He piped up in a feminine voice.
“You bastard.”
A shadow crept from under the door. It warped into a familiar overlord, standing at the wrong side of the closed door with an ugly grin. Lucifer fiddled with his staff, looking over the deer’s shoulder.
“I could’ve sworn I put a sign out.” He tutted.
“You did.” The deer confirmed.
“So you’re illiterate?”
“I’m ignorant.”
Alastor trotted by him, sitting on LUCIFER’S couch. He seethed, hating when people touched HIS stuff. That fucking asshole. He forced himself to calm down and seem like the bigger person. He walked over, calmly standing in front of Alastor. He calmly looked down at the man’s giant yellow grin. Then, he calmly grabbed him by the antler and swung him off the couch and onto the floor. He calmly sat atop where Alastor was sitting. He definitely handled that calmly.
Crackling radio noises sounded. The deer stood, brushing himself off and fixing his suit.
“I’d like it if ya left,” he tapped the bottom of his staff against the floor repeatedly, trying to stim his annoyance away, “please.”
“I fear that’s not an option right now.” The deer tutted. “I have a-”
“Can it be an option?” Lucifer tried bargaining.
“Perhaps. If you’re willing to make a deal?” He held out his hand teasingly.
“Making a deal requires me to touch you, and—ha!-- let me tell you,” he took a deep breath, “no.”
“Then I guess I cannot leave.” He hummed a familiar tune, a tune they both created together.
Alastor wandered the room. He took hold of one of the rubber ducks. It was one of himself, red with a fuck ass bob and deer appendages. There were Sharpie scribbles on the back and a stake impaled in its chest. The radio demon glanced back at Lucifer, seeing the smug smirk on the king’s face and snorting.
“Adorable.” He squeezed it, making it create a screaming noise before bursting.
“Aww, you killed yourself. Sad you beat me to it.”
“To killing yourself?”
“To killing you.”
Alastor’s nose twitched. He discarded the remains of the duck. The deer came back to stand before Lucifer, seeming slightly hesitant. The king just stared up at him, not willing to initiate conversation with a rule-breaking intruder.
“I’m...” Alastor seemed to choke on the words. “Sorry.”
“Good.” He answered immediately before pausing. “Fo’what?”
“Everything.” The deer spat out, the word sounding like an insult.
He hummed in an infuriating way. The way Alastor looked so pissed off was everything to him.
“Be more specific.”
“What, you want me to name each thing I’m sorry for?” Alastor scoffed incredulously.
“Good idea.” He grinned, resting his head on his hand. “Go on.”
The overlord took a deep breath. “Alright. I’m sorry for trying to replace you as Charlie’s father, I’m sorry for leaving you to die in Vox’s war machine. I’m sorry for calling you names and insulting your marriage. I’m sorry for each and every thing I ever said to harm you, and I’m sorry for fighting you.” He seemed genuinely pained as having to say sorry. “Happy?”
“Satisfied.” He hummed. “Where’s all this coming from?”
“A genuine want to change, my king!”
“Try again.”
“Clever you are.” He leaned over, pinching Lucifer’s cheek condescendingly. The fallen angel smacked his hand. “I was asked by Charlie to get along with you. I thought I’d do all the heavy work for us and you could just sit there and act like you tolerate me!”
“You’re doing this for Charlie...?”
“Of course!” Alastor spun his staff animatedly. “She’s such an important figure, yes?”
He didn’t know whether he should believe him or not. After all, the deer was more of a snake than Lucifer’s snake form and that Snake sinner-turned-winner combined. He studied the man’s expression for a few seconds, looking for any hints of deceit. And finding none, he began to (regrettably) find himself believing him.
“Why? What’s she doing for you? Did you--” He gasped loudly, “--did you make a DEAL with her!?”
“Hardly!” Alastor sighed. “After all the shit that went down with Vox, she refuses to make any more deals with me. Even discouraged the people in the hotel to try anything with me. I’m truly hurt.”
He did not, unsurprisingly, seem truly hurt.
“Are you wanting to make a deal with me?” Lucifer inquired.
“Of course not! --Unless you’d want to, which in that case I’d be delighted!” He held out his hand.
“Nope.”
He retreated his hand, spinning his staff a few times. “Would you stop that?”
“Huh?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
“That incessant tapping of your staff.” Alastor pointed to Lucifer’s staff, which he had still been drumming on the floor.
He hadn’t even realized what he’d been doing, stopping instantly. Then he realized he just listened to the orders of an overlord. Fuck, he wasn’t being seen as weak for that, was he? Lucifer set his staff down onto the couch beside him, a little flustered at his absentminded stimming. His mental disorders were so fucking apparent, it sickened him.
“Anyway, where were we?” Alastor continued. “Ah, yes. I do request a deal, but it’s small, and has no consequences.”
Lucifer was about to immediately deny, but the deer continued before he could.
“It’s simple, absolutely nothing big. All you’ll have to do is pretend you don’t hate me in front of Charlie. You can express moderate dislike, but fighting and hating is off the table. And any ill talk of me will be unacceptable. But you’re amazing at being passive aggressive already, so I see no problem in that.” He gave a couple of seconds for it to sink in. “On my side, I’ll do the same towards you, and give you a little bonus. Once every three months--”
“Why three?” He butt in.
“Let me finish. Once every three months, I will be forced to do whatever bidding you ask of me to do. It can’t be anything big, like kill myself or leave the hotel, but can be little tasks like kill someone harming Charlie or shower you in compliments. Enticing, isn’t it?”
He left a couple of seconds of silence, wondering if Alastor would continue. When he didn’t, Lucifer piped up again. “Why three?”
“So you get four requests a year.” Alastor snapped, seeming a little irritated. “Not too little, not too much.”
“Why are you doing this? You get nothing out of this. Also does it stack? Like I wait six months and then on the seventh I get to ask three things? And what qualifies as a “big” ask versus a little thing? And does it--”
Alastor groaned loudly. “You are SUCH a pain in the ass.”
“Language.” He tutted disapprovingly like he was any better.
“Do you want the deal or not?” The deer snapped.
He paused. “Does it stack--”
“NO, it does NOT stack! Happy?”
“...who decides if it’s a big ask?”
Alastor shot out his hand, not answering any more questions. Lucifer huffed, still incredibly questioning about this whole thing. He stared at Alastor’s hand, not wanting to touch it at all. Just one wrong grip would hurt Lucifer anyway. His wrist still burnt, somehow.
But this did sound like a good deal, and he didn’t sense any loopholes. So, against his better judgement, he very gingerly slipped his hand into Alastor’s. The deer snatched it, making the king scream out in pain. He let go of the grip before the deal could go through, clutching his wrist. He was panting now, barely able to breathe through the insufferable pain. Those meds did nothing but make him slightly woozy for two milliseconds.
Damn Belphegor—Damn pain!!
Alastor, seeming caught off guard and concerned (probably more concerned about the deal rather than the hurt king), bent down and looked over the King’s concealed wrist. He took off Lucifer’s glove, eyes widening at the damage. It wasn’t a pretty sight at all, Lucifer knew that, but the deer didn’t have to look THAT horrified.
“Ow, ow, shit, SHI-YAT!” He heard once that swearing made pain lessen. ...Yeah, no it didn’t.
“Calm down, calm down.” Scoffed Alastor. “Where did you get this from?”
“The box.”
“The what?”
He huffed. “The box—the spherical box TV guy put me in.”
Recognition flooded Alastor’s eyes. He sighed, digging his nails into the palm of Lucifer’s hand. He cried out in pain and confusion, wondering where this was coming from.
“The FUCK!? What gives!?” He tried pulling his hand away, but his wrist couldn’t without sending horrible pain through him again.
“Focus on that. The way it hurts, my nails. Ignore your wrist and focus on the other pain. It’s less than your wrist, right?” Alastor hummed calmly, definitely being more calm than Lucifer was earlier.
He realized what Alastor was doing was helping. It hurt, yes, but it was bearable. After a minute or so, Alastor let go, caressing the red area. His wrist had stopped hurting and his hand was just a little tingly. Looking up at Alastor, he saw an indifferent yet not cruel look on his face. His smile was small, though it seemed to radiate peace rather than violence.
“Better?” The deer questioned.
“Yeah...” he debated whether or not to say what he was going to next. He sighed. “Thanks...” Mumbled out Lucifer.
“You’re very welcome. May we go on with the deal now?”
Lucifer felt less wary of the deal now, hyping himself up briefly before holding out his hand for Alastor to do what he needed to with.
Sounds kinda sexual... heh...
He brushed off his immature thoughts, turning back the deer. Alastor had taken his hand, gripping it solidly but not painfully. The room resonated with green symbols that Lucifer didn’t care to pay attention to. It was over in a matter of seconds.
After they finished, he got up, gingerly brushing himself off. Seriously, why did TV guy have to connect so many wires to him? Couldn’t he have just used, like, one? One really tiny one that he didn’t have to feel? Maybe he was a masochist. He was a sinner, after all. All sinners were probably masochists.
The door swung open, making him jump. Charlie stood there, jaw dropped.
“Charlie!” He exclaimed, beaming at the sight of his daughter.
“Dad!?” She shrieked. “Did you make a deal with-?!”
“Oh, don’t fret, dear.” Alastor tutted. “Do you not trust me?”
She stammered. “I do! I do! But... dad, please tell me it wasn’t anything bad. I mean, I only made a deal with him because everyone was about to die, so it was important. Dad, please tell me you didn’t gullibly trust him! I thought you were smarter than this!”
“Hypocrite...” Whispered Alastor through a closed mouth.
He began to regret the deal. He swung his staff around in his hand to conceal his anxiety. “It was important! Kind of... I mean, it’s fine, Charlie. Your father’s completely smart and knows what he’s doing!” He ironically slammed it into his ankle, which was scarred from the machine as well. He cried out in pain, bending over and clutching the wounded area.
She stared at Alastor, seeming hurt. “Please, tell me you won’t hurt him.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Alastor told her, walking over and patting her on the head. “I promise to not lay a hand on him.” He told her while laying his hand on her head. “Your father is perfectly fine.”
Charlie whimpered anxiously, looking over at her sobbing father (yes, the pain was that bad... he was sensitive!).
“I’m a-okay, Charlie!” He gave a thumbs up, wincing at the movement. “If you can make a deal with this dick—deer! With this deer, so can I!”
Alastor’s ear flicked, though what Lucifer said clearly wasn’t enough to break the deal.
“Trust me, Charlie, I won’t do a thing to your father. On another note, there’s a very busy hotel downstairs someone needs to run.”
She gasped. “Right! The hotel—Niffty!”
“WE’LL be down in a second, my dear.” He called after her. She was already scrambling down the hallway, seemingly forgetting about something having to do with the maid.
Lucifer finally recovered from the pain in his ankle, standing up shakily. Though when he glanced down again, he could see the shimmer of golden. He sighed. This wasn’t the first time he’d idiotically re-opened his wounds. He was way too clumsy for his own good.
“You should really put stitches on your wounds.” Noted Alastor. “They’ll heal more cleanly. And faster.”
“No way, José.” He laughed loudly and forcefully. “No, nah, nope. That’s, ahh, way too painful.”
“More painful than your current wounds?”
He bit his tongue.
“Let me see it.”
He sighed, sitting down and letting Alastor take a look at it. He hadn’t reopened much, but blood was already spilling. How he wasn’t anemic was beyond him. Quietly, he watched as Alastor summoned green spool and a small needle. He shifted in discomfort, the idea of stitches incredibly displeasing. The deer forced his leg still, using one hand to keep his leg from squirming, one to use the needle, and his mouth to (impressively) stitch with the spool.
After twenty minutes of whining and crying and screaming and toddler-like kicking, they were finished. Both were exhausted and out of breath from the tantrum the king of hell threw. Alastor had needed to call in his shadow at one point to hold Lucifer down so he could use both hands to give the stitches. It was a little embarrassing to be treated like a toddler, in all honesty. Then again, he HAD been acting like one...
The deer stood up, taking his staff and tapping it against Lucifer’s forehead.
“That’ll be all for today.” The overlord turned to leave.
“Wait!” He blurted out. Alastor stopped, turning his head 180 degrees to stare at the flustered king. “Thanks... for... helping me...” he mumbled out with embarrassment.
The radio demon’s grin widened. “My please, your highness.”
Then, he left, leaving Lucifer sitting on the ground.
Alone.
Again.
~~~
“Dad!”
That was the first thing Lucifer heard when teleporting downstairs a couple of hours later. He’d taken a short nap to take a break from the pain, only to wake up after falling off the bed onto his injured chest. Now he felt like having social interactions, despite his battery being lower than the seventh ring of Hell. It was an odd feeling.
“Hey-hey-hey! Charlie!” He grinned, happy to see his daughter. “What’s up?”
“Please, tell me you’re okay.”
He was caught a bit off guard. “I mean, not really. My wounds still kinda hurt and I reopened one and deer guy had to give me stitches-”
“No, the deal, dad.” She sighed. “It’s... I trust you, okay? But I’ve seen firsthand how manipulative he can be. I’m grateful for his help, but I don’t want you to get roped into his deals, too. Just... tell me what the deal was.”
“Actually a pretty good deal. We just don’t fight and every three months I can ask him to do one thing of my choosing.”
“And what does he get in return?” She seemed wary.
“Uhhh... I don't fight with him.”
“That’s... it?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t that a little suspicious?”
“Oh, heh- yeah, MEGA suspicious.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But it’s fine. I’ve got things handled.” He shrugged. “Ooh, maybe it’s like a monkey paw thing like if I ask him to kill someone for me he kills that person and buries the body in my piles of ducks so I smell the carcass but don’t know where it’s coming from. Ah, that’d be really cool, though. I always wanted a monkey’s paw. Not a real one, but, y’know.”
“Dad, be serious.”
“I am!”
She took a breath. “You can go on with this deal, but please tell me if anything at all happens between you two.”
“Dooooon’t worry, Charlie! You can count on me!” He laughed a little too loudly, catching the attention of nearby sinners.
She forced a smile before walking off. He felt a little guilty, wondering if he’d somehow shattered her trust with this deal. His eyes trailed up to the second floor, seeing a familiar sinner standing at the railing.
Alastor was there, leaning over on it and grinning down at the king of Hell. His fingers drummed against the railing, inaudible from where Lucifer was standing.
But that look in his eyes was what caught Lucifer’s attention the most.
A look of power and hunger, staring right at the king.
That was the only time he ever felt as powerless and weak as prey.