Chapter Text
How does one find themselves haunting the halls of one hellish Hazbin Hotel? Good question! At its very core, the answer is a short one. As with most things in Lucifer Morningstar’s life, the root of the problem could be traced down to one very sweet, very enticing apple.
Damn that stupid apple. Lucifer thought to himself, headache beginning to grow as he rounded another dark corner and continued down the hallway.
The hotel was settled down for the night, which meant Lucifer had once again been left with nothing but his own insanity and insomnia to keep him company. It wasn't really the apple that Lucifer wanted to curse; it was himself. After all, it wasn't as if the apple grew legs and delivered itself to Eve. It had been Lucifer that damned her and the rest of mankind to an eternity of sin. But thinking about that never did anything good for his already crippled mental state, so for the time being he simply blamed it on the apple and moved on.
It was the apple’s fault Lucifer had gotten stuck in hell. It was the apple's fault Lucifer couldn’t sleep. And it was definitely the apple’s fault that he was currently being plagued by such a wicked headache, wandering around the sleepy halls of the Hazbin Hotel like a ghost.
Ever since Lucifer had gotten himself kidnapped and used like some sort of glorified fucking battery for a war machine, he was finding it hard to get much shut eye.
Yeah, nothing about that experience had been particularly pleasant. But Lucifer could get past it as long as Charlie wasn’t upset with him anymore. Disappointing her had been the worst part of it all. It had been okay in the end though, because Charlie and her hotel were doing better than ever.
With that mouthy little mortal (Box or Fox or whatever) out of the picture, things were going much better for Charlie and her hotel. She was happy. And Lucifer was happy for her. More than anything, he was relieved they had been able to make up. He hated seeing Charlie so mad.
The hotel was full to bursting with new residents nowadays. Lucifer didn’t mind the crowd, but after having lived in solitude for so long it could get to be a bit much. He found a certain comfort in roaming the halls at night. It was better than lying around in his room, torturing himself with his own thoughts while he waited for sleep to come. In a way, it was peaceful. Being able to meander like this kept his mind distracted, and allowed for him to function without the pressure of so many people around.
And eventually, Lucifer had found that it helped him to sleep. He guessed it was a good way to wind down after the chaos of the day.
The headache that was hounding him tonight wasn’t a usual part of the routine. He decided to head for the kitchen and make some tea. There had to be a good herbal blend for headaches in one of the cabinets. Lucifer could have simply conjured tea (already brewed and everything) using his powers, but he found a certain appreciation in going through the motions himself. Besides, there was a certain delicate art to conjuring food from nothing. More often than not, he found the taste was better if he simply did it the old fashioned way. So he made a right down the next hallway, one hand rubbing his temple in a fruitless effort to alleviate the pain, and found himself at the kitchen door.
Despite the impressive amount of sinners that occupied the building, Lucifer rarely ran into anyone during his late night walks. Well, mostly. There was one exception; the hotel’s other resident night owl, Alastor. He’d wondered more than once if Alastor ever slept at all. No matter what time of night they ran into each other, Alastor always seemed to be sharp and snide as ever.
Speaking of, Alastor happened to be the first thing Lucifer saw when he opened the door to the kitchen. He had his back to the counter, leaning up against it and staring off into the distance. The sharp smell of coffee rose to meet Lucifer as he stepped into the room.
“It’s three in the morning.” Lucifer said, matter of factly. Alastor glanced the devil’s way before returning to his staring contest with the opposite wall.
“Indeed it is. I suppose that next you’ll tell me the earth is round.” There was a certain sardonic tone to Alastor’s voice as he responded. Lucifer huffed.
“That’s not what I meant, asshole. You’re brewing coffee. It’s only 3 three in the morning.” Lucifer padded the rest of the way into the kitchen and grabbed a mug.
Alastor fully turned towards him this time before responding, “What’s the harm in a little indulgence?” Alastor’s grin sharpened as he continued on, “It will hardly stunt my growth.”
“Oh yeah, har har, very funny,” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Keep the short jokes coming. They seem to be the only thing you’re good at.” Lucifer began opening the overhead cabinets in search for tea, nearly smacking Alastor in the face as he flung one open.
“If you insist.” Alastor responded sarcastically, turning toward the coffee maker as it finished brewing. He filled his own mug before turning back to Lucifer, “I suppose you’re not here for coffee, then?”
“No, I'm looking for tea. Damn head’s killing me,” Lucifer grumbled. The cabinet he was currently looking through seemed to be full of spices. His height wasn’t really helping in the matter. He would have been able to get a better look if he’d used his wings to fly up a bit, but that would only inspire more jokes on Alastor’s end.
Alastor hummed in response and turned to open a neighboring cabinet. “Peppermint would likely be best for a headache,” Alastor rummaged around a bit, pulling out a few different things before looking at Lucifer, “or would you prefer chamomile?”
Lucifer stared at him for a moment. Apparently one moment too long. Alastor huffed at him, one ear flicking in annoyance atop his head. “Do you want tea or not?”
“Yeah.” Lucifer said slowly, squinting at him. Alastor had always seemed to place himself above small favors. It was almost suspicious. Lucifer watched as Alastor’s left ear flicked again. Clearly irritated. It seemed that Alastor’s kindness was about to expire at any moment. He let out another puff of air before asking again, “then which kind?”
Lucifer stared for just a moment more, before relenting and answering with a shrug, “whichever you think will work best.”
He stood there, a little surprised, as Alastor began to do all the work for him. Admittedly, his process was much more in depth than Lucifer’s. If it was up to him, Lucifer would have heated some water, thrown a tea bag in there and been done with it. But Alastor was much more thorough.
Lucifer watched as Alastor set a pot of water over the stove and began to peel a piece of fresh ginger. Lucifer (still trying to wrap his tired brain around Alastor's sudden kindness) couldn’t help himself from joking, “planning to poison me?”
Alastor’s only response was to bestow him with a rather wicked side-eye, his smile sharpening just a bit. Lucifer wasn’t sure whether that meant anything good. Oh well. It wasn’t as if any poison in hell could actually kill him. Let Alastor try if he wanted.
When Alastor had finished peeling the ginger he tossed it over to Lucifer.
“Cut this up. Thin slices.”
“Yes chef,” Lucifer responded, only a slight bit of sarcasm in his tone as he turned to find a cutting board.
It wasn’t the first time they’d shared each other’s company in this manner. When they first began running into each other at night, they would argue and sneer. Though it never escalated beyond that. They seemed to have partook in some unspoken agreement not to disrupt the quiet. Lucifer didn’t want to get carried away and risk waking any of the residents. For one thing, it would bring unwanted attention to himself. Not to mention it would upset Charlie. Lucifer wasn’t sure if Alastor shared those feelings, or if he kept it dialed back for some other reason.
Either way, they had learned to be at least somewhat civil around each other. They had their moments, but overall Lucifer thought they’d managed each other’s presence rather well. Steeping tea together was new, but Lucifer figured his life could hardly get any weirder.
He didn’t fully trust Alastor. Not yet. But he decided to leave the fate of his headache in the radio demon’s hands.
As it turned out, Alastor made a pretty incredible ginger-mint tea.