Chapter Text
Lucifer made a beeline for his room the moment they arrived at the hotel. Downstairs, the din of chaos was deafening, somewhere between a victory party and a full-blown riot. Perfect, he thought. Aside from pounding in his skull like a drum, the noise was loud enough to smother the pained moans that escaped him.
He writhed on the bed, skin tingling with lingering static. It built slowly, sharpening into quick shocks just enough to remind him of the torment in that box before melting into numbness, only to surge back again. It was relentless and so, so painful. The last time he remembered suffering this much was during his Fall.
A quiet dread rose inside him when he realized he hadn’t even sensed the familiar shadow sliding under his door. By the time it crept into the room, the next harsh shock cracked through his body, forcing him to turn away. The best he managed was strangling the grunt halfway down his throat.
“Oh my. Seems Carmilla’s technology is not to be underestimated if it can cause this much damage even to you.”
Carmilla… who? Was she one who designed the torture box he’d been thrown into? If so, that alone earned her a solid spot on his “do not invite to dinner” list.
“What’re you doing here?” It was a rare moment he didn’t feel like poking at Alastor. If anything, hearing that radio speak only made the sparks under his skin flare worse.
“Is Charlie—”
“There is no need to worry. She is happily celebrating downstairs, completely oblivious to her dear father suffering up here.”
Lucifer stiffened. The leftover energy in his limbs snapped like a whip.
“Don’t you dare.”
“It cannot be helped. Even back there, she was too caught up in her victory to notice you. Just like I predicted, that girl—”
Lucifer didn’t even register the moment he grabbed Alastor by the collar. One second he was lying down, the next he was upright and shaking. He definitely cut a pathetic figure, made even more ridiculous by their height difference.
“Look at you,” Alastor taunted, making no move to slip free. “Even in agony, you are still Daddy of the Year.”
Lucifer’s eyes blazed, but the hand fisted in Alastor’s collar trembled uncontrollably, both from the aftershocks and the conditions of his punishment.
“How disappointing. Provoking you in your state is far less entertaining than I hoped.”
“You… what the fuck do you want?” Lucifer shouted a little too loudly.
He didn’t tense because Alastor hit a nerve; he tensed because he’d already been standing on that nerve all night. Charlie wasn’t to blame for not noticing—she was celebrating, as she should. He was the one who couldn’t seem to do anything right, always tripping over his own attempts to help, getting in her way instead of supporting her, gullible enough to waltz straight into that TV-headed man’s trap. Useless as a husband, useless as a father, useless as a king. Failing grades across the board.
“And here I thought you could not get any more pathetic. You are hardly amusing anymore. What a waste of a power that nearly obliterated Heaven,” Alastor mocked as he stepped back, slipping calmly out of Lucifer’s grasp.
“Even without the ability to harm sinners, you could be so much more than this… pitiful display. Yet you choose to remain the laughingstock of both Heaven and Hell, all because of that damn pride of yours.”
Lucifer lost the strength to stand his ground and decided to answer anyway. “At least I have pride. Hell, I am pride! Something you deal-seeking walking radio ad wouldn’t understand!”
Alastor’s brow arched. Lucifer forced a shaky grin that quickly flatered as another shock tore through him. He stumbled forward, and Alastor caught him before he hit the ground, fingertips digging into his shoulders.
“My, my. How fragile the Morningstar has become,” Alastor ridiculed, voice amused and too smooth to trust. “I almost feel sorry for you.”
Lucifer tried to retort with, “Fucking bitch—” but the words broke into a strangled cry as the shocks hit like lightning down his spine. His power lurched out of control, swirling inside him at a terrifying speed, refusing to regulate. His wings burst from his back, feathers shuddering violently before curling protectively around his trembling form. With Alastor still holding him, the wings wrapped partway around them both.
“Would you look at that.” Alastor’s fingers trailed over the feathers, his ever-present grin stretching wider. “Even more beautiful up close.” His gaze lingered on Lucifer, unsettling in its intensity.
“Almost as pretty as you, Your Majesty.”
Pain and humiliation blurred together, along with a dizzying confusion. Another surge of unstable magic ripped through Lucifer before he could respond. Whatever that weapon had done, it left his power thrashing wildly, tearing at every nerve. His wings spasmed, his vision blurred, and he doubled over, clapping a hand over his mouth to strangle the scream threatening to escape.
“Such admirable restraint,” Alastor remarked, right as Lucifer’s knees buckled. He caught him smoothly, an arm looping around his waist and pulling him upright before he could hit the floor. His hand avoided the base of the wings completely, as if Alastor knew exactly where the pain was worst.
Lucifer panted against him, trying and failing to steady any part of himself.
“You… what do you… want from me?” he managed, torn between the instinct to lean into the support and the desperate urge to get away.
Alastor’s smile sharpened. “All in good time, Lu. You might find that what I want is surprisingly beneficial to both of us.”
Lucifer blinked up at him, exhausted and hurting, bracing himself for the next spike of agony.
“But never mind that,” Alastor went on lightly. “We can discuss matters properly once you are feeling a bit more stable. Until then...”
His grip tightened just slightly, steadying, possessive, and mocking all at once.
Then his voice dipped, smooth and coaxing.
“I’m here, Your Majesty. Let it out.”
Lucifer didn’t know whether it was those sickeningly sweet words or the pain growing toward unbearable… but when it hit again, his scream tore free, raw and unrestrained, his body writhing against the grip that kept him from collapsing.