Chapter Text
With a cry somewhere between anger and misery, you plunge the blades into Lucifer's chest. He tries to gasp, but it's drowned by yellow and red blood, mingling into orange in the divide between the wounds you've created. His hands scramble to remove the blindfold, his thrashing body falling off the bed into a crumpled heap on the ground, a piercing, devastating scream filling the room, rattling the walls. Slashing claws cut the ties of the blindfold free, revealing eyes framed by embers that refuse to relight, streaming tears evaporating in the heat. With his dying breath, his larynx rattles two final syllables: "Charlie..."
He tries to breathe again, a hitch in his throat, and the light in his eyes goes out. You watch as the life leaves his eyes, and feel yourself becoming sick. With a retch, you turn away, seeing the door handle pulling down. Charlie bursts through, Vaggie right behind her, spear in hand. She sees her father, what you have done, and you witness the full breadth of her demonic abilities. With a roar that could be heard from Heaven, she shifts into something ethereal, something incorporeal, a writhing mass of eyes and red flesh and bared teeth, all moving to make certain blood is paid for with blood. Her form blocks Vaggie from reaching you, and from the look in her eyes, it's the only thing keeping you alive.
And then, crackling static from the shadow in the corner speaks. "Charlie," it begins, Alastor stepping into view, "do me a favor." That word prompts a rain of green chains to shower over Charlie, locking every flailing limb, reducing the swollen being back into the form you've come to know so well, the savior you have so irreparably betrayed, the princess that will never be Queen. "Do not lay a finger on us, nor allow Vaggie to harm us."
Tears are streaming down her face, and she lets out a scream that will never leave you. Vaggie raises her spear, and Charlie puts out an arm to stop her. "This is what I get. I was wrong. Some souls can't change." She glares at you with a malice so absolute you can feel the chill in your very soul. "Get the fuck out. Both of you."
Putting a hand on your shoulder, Alastor lets you both fade into Oblivion. "I know it hurts now, darling. TIme heals all wounds. And should you blame yourself, don't forget: The devil made you do it."
***
You're with him, just like you wanted. The barrier falls, as do so many souls, flayed apart on Alastor's reinstated radio program. He closes out another program by sitting behind his piano, striking up his band of shadows, singing a song of evil, of knowing your place.
Mama you ask me
why I bite the hand that feeds
Well, it ain't my fault the flesh
is so much tastier to me
Mama you ask me
why I'm home late lately
Well it ain't my fault the fun
don't come out with the sun
Mama you ask me
when will I bring home a dame?
Well there's a couple here already
six feet makes 'em all the same
Mama you ask me
"Where did I go wrong?"
It's a shame you blame yourself cause I've
been this way all along
Mama, you ask me
Where's your little boy gone?
He's the same place he's always been
Just singin' a new song!
Mama, you ask me,
do I wanna go to Hell?
Shoulda know you raised a sinner
I belong here, wish me well!
You understood the consequences, and found them acceptable.
You stand with him now on the precipice between two places never meant to share a border. From the other side, an Angel comes into view. Alastor's hand squeezes yours, his smile faltering. You can't help but see a single tear slipping down his cheek as she comes closer. She smiles, and he runs to her, wrapping his arms around her, falling to his knees.
"I told you I'd find a way to see you again, Mom."