Chapter Text
"AAHHHH, WHAT THE FUCK,"
Lucifer yelled, stumbling to sit as his back hit the headboard. He rubbed his dusty eyes, coming back to reality as the fright slowly went away.
Staring back at him was that Goddamn Alastor, a bright smile attached to his face as always. He somehow had gotten into Lucifer's room and had been just staring at him sleeping, on his hands and knees, hovering over the fallen angel.
"Morning to you too, dear," Alastor said enthusiastically, watching as Lucifer crumbled out of the bed, "Charlie has grown to be quite worried for you." The deer lied down to his side on the bed, a sarcasm written all over his tone.
"Hmmh," the other acknowledged as he put on his fluffy pink robe "how nice of her to send you here." Lucifer was clearly not caring at all, carefully walking across the room not to step on any of his toy ducks. Alastor huffed, laying on his back as Lucifer made his way to the dressing table. Gosh he looked terrible - his blonde hair was sticking out in every direction, his eyes having bags under themselves, and he overall just looked very pale.
"Seriously, you need to raise her better," Alastor crumbled, keeping his voice calm, "she'd rather have me check up on you than do it herself."
Lucifer sat down on the chair, grabbing a punch of curlers from the table's side as he began to curl his hair. "Yet you listened to her?" The deer sat up suddenly, an annoyance written all over his face as his fingers clawed into the mattress. This goes unnoticed by Lucifer.
"You need to understand, Bambi, that after the success of the hotel, Charlie has been busy. It's a miracle she even is sending someone to check up on me," Lucifer explains, the sleepiness still not having worn off entirely. Alastor crosses his arms as he leans back against the headboard: "Oh please. Charlie is too naive to understand that she can just slow off for a minute or two to check on you, if that's so important for her."
"Doesn't help the fact that you still listened to her," Lucifer stretches, his sore limbs cracking.
"You know what doesn't help? The fact that you're just idling around," Alastor snaps, gritting his teeth as he crosses his legs. "The least you could do is heal my wound."
Lucifer turned around in his chair, a look of mild irritation in his face. "It still hasn't healed?" He is in complete disbelief, raising his eyebrow at the sinner.
"Yeah yeah, I know, I hate it as much as you do," he mumbles, rolling his eyes as so,"but the healing is very out of my control, is it not?" Lucifer shrugs, setting a last roller in his hair before walking over to the bed. Alastor is avoiding his gaze, finding the rolls of his sleeves way more interesting than Lucifer's help.
After the whole situation with Vox, neither men were doing good at all. Lucifer had been strapped into an angelic weapon, being tortured for power as Alastor had to fight with Vox in his weakest state. To say that the both were worn out was an understatement - they both had been dying.
Lucifer had become very tired after that, spending most of his days in his room where he slept through the whole day, occasionally joining the lobby to see what was new. His powers were drained and so was his energy. If you wanted something out of him, he'd just tell you "no" and go back to napping.
Alastor meanwhile was pissed. Oh, he was so pissed at Charlie. After everything he had done for her and her itty bitty hotel, she couldn't even bother to check on him. Oh no, sweet Charlie would rather check up on a fucking Seraphim Angel before even thinking about Alastor. It felt like she was actively just being clueless and what pissed him off more was the fact that he cared about that.
Alastor had tried to take care of the huge wound by himself. But added in the one what Adam had inflected a while ago that still refused to heal, it was a real pain in the ass. So much so that Alastor had trouble with walking since every step was just straight up torture. One evening though, that same 5 winged Angel had come to visit and during her stay, she had mentioned how she had healed most of the lost wing herself before getting a prosthetic in place. And this is when it clicked to Alastor - of course, why didn't he think of it sooner? Angels can heal and Lucifer is- was one.
This little request from the fallen one came with a prize though. Lucifer, as guessed, was not going to do it for free, especially for Alastor. And despite their own better judgement, they struck a deal. One in which Lucifer has to heal Alastor and in return, Alastor can be a tiny assassin for Lucifer. The sinner knew from the moment they shaked hands that Lucifer won't use that to its full potential though. I mean, look at him! He barely could keep his eyes open, much less think about who he wants dead.
And so their... partnership began. One in which neither wanted to partake in.