Chapter Text
After his little accident, Lucifer avoided Adam like the plague.
To his credit, Adam did leave him alone for the rest of the day, a kind of generosity Lucifer didn't expect from the sinner at all, but he supposed the First Man had other things to think about and focus on his new playthings and snacks.
Lucifer spent the remainder of his day in the freezing waters of a cold bath, attempting to subdue the overwhelming sensations still boiling inside his body and burying himself in books in search of some potion potent enough to put the devil himself to sleep.
Though his search had no results, it served as a good enough distraction.
The following day, Adam vanished from the palace once more, and Lucifer secretly felt grateful for the reprieve. His mind was already busy chastising him for what had transpired the day before, desperately searching for a logical explanation that wouldn't bruise his already battered pride. The fear and anxiety for his own survival that had plagued him the previous days were now replaced by an overwhelming sense of shame and self-inflicted humiliation.
Despite the logical explanations—exhaustion, alcohol, depression over upsetting Charlie—there was a little traitorous part of his mind, that he would sooner or later give a name to, quietly reminding him that it was all his doing, that he deserved to feel the shame. That it felt good because he finally allowed himself to indulge in it.
But amidst the mental exhaustion, self-hatred, frustration, and depression, he staunchly refused to accept or embrace humiliation to be an emotion that would accompany him for who knows how long.
He refused to acknowledge any pleasure derived from it.
When Adam finally came back that night, he dragged in an exorcist's dismembered leg and the limbless torso of a cannibal.
But despite his trophies, Adam came back half-dead, that night.
By the deep wounds across his body, the remaining survivors of Cannibal Town had evidently equipped themselves with the angelic weapons given to them during the Extermination to defend what was left of their part of town.
And for one single moment, as Lucifer watched the sinner look at him with wide eyes before lowering his head snarling and growling at him like a wild creature backed into a corner, hiding his wounds with evident tension in every muscle of his body, he considered this would be the one good occasion to finish him off. The devil thought about ripping his wings from his back, using his own claws to cut through his throat and letting him choke on his new red blood. He thought about gouging his eyes out and eating them, mounting his head on the wall, skinning his body, and using it as a carpet.
But as the demon continued growling ominously, wings splayed to appear more imposing, golden, fierce eyes fixed on him to warn him not to get any closer, Lucifer stepped back, repaying the favor of the previous day and leaving him alone.
He would later justify his behavior with the rational thought that all it would take was for Adam to grab him in some way to strip him of all his powers and easily kill him, and at that point there would be no one left to protect Charlie. He told himself that if there was anyone in Hell who deserved to suffer, that was Adam.
And his imagination of how he would relish Adam's suffering drowned out the voice of that inner traitorous part of him that wanted the man alive, that secretly yearned for Adam's fangs on his neck once more.
He didn't meet him the day after, or the day after that.
He recognized that Adam needed rest and time to heal, especially given his apparent aversion to show himself injured and vulnerable, particularly in front of the person he hated the most. Although Lucifer needed time to heal as well, he was surprised that Adam didn't come looking for him for food though.
The surprise vanished when the demon crawled out of his room on the evening of the third day. Lucifer felt himself jerked backward by the collar of his shirt until his back was against the man's massive body. It was frightening how someone so big could sneak up on him so easily.
As Adam's sharp claws curled around his neck and forced him to tilt his head back to look up at the demon, Lucifer waited for the usual declaration of hunger in tense silence, maintaining a gaze filled with disdain.
"I need you for something!" was the demon's exclamation, who, without waiting for a response, turned around and, hooking one claw in the collar of Lucifer's shirt again, started dragging him through the hallway.
The devil staggered back. "I can fucking walk!" he informed him, trying not to fall to the floor and keep up with Adam's big strides. With an amused smirk and a light snort, the demon released him.
Silently, Adam guided Lucifer to the room he had been using since his arrival, the same one Lucifer had granted him on the first day. Opening the door, Adam pushed Lucifer inside.
Although red was the primary color of the interior and furnishings, the entirety of the room was in complete disarray. Dark bloodstains covered nearly every surface, furniture was destroyed or heavily damaged with deep claw marks, and torn clothing and scattered remains of flesh and bone littered the space. The bed was particularly gruesome, drenched in blood with torn sheets, mattresses, and pillows, some of which had sharp feathers embedded in them.
The only things that seemed to have any semblance of order were the guitar stolen a few days earlier from a sinner, resting against a wall, and the three corpses of the exorcists lying in a corner side by side, their hands resting on their bellies. No matter how carefully and reverently they seemed to be treated, however, their bodies bore new, large cuts that they didn't present a few days earlier.
One of them was missing her legs, which she had a few days earlier.
Lucifer took a step away from Adam, turning to look at him, waiting for his next request with a hint of anxiety, but before his mind could dwell on the worst possible scenarios, Adam's bored voice cut in with a simple order: "Clean it."
The devil needed a moment to process the request. While it was better than the dark predictions his mind had conjured, he couldn't suppress the indignation in his voice as he asked a spontaneous "Are you serious?"
"Yes, and don't touch them." Adam replied, pointing toward the dead exorcists.
With a heavy, insulted sigh, Lucifer snapped his fingers, and in an instant, the room was restored to pristine condition. The demon reacted with a small, low hum, surveying the room as Lucifer crossed his arms and bit his tongue to refrain from asking if he wanted something else in a passive-aggressive tone.
"I need more clothes too," Adam informed him, and again Lucifer snapped his fingers, rolling his eyes.
"Am I done here now?" The devil asked with vitriol, while the First Man checked the closet's new contents.
"No, you're not." Adam exclaimed, apparently satisfied, closing the closet doors with a loud bang. "You said you watched my attack on the cannibals, right?" He asked, turning back to the devil, who replied with a nod.
"Good, then you remember that stupid fucking name..." He trailed off. "The arms dealer's."
Lucifer wasn't good with names either, and by now he was so unfamiliar with the dynamics of Hell that he barely remembered the existence of the Overlords and what they were dealing with. "Carmilla Carmine?" he suggested after a moment's thought, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"Yeah, that! I will never remember it." Adam groaned, sitting heavily on the bed. "Where is she?" He demanded.
"I don't know." The devil immediately replied, earning a suspicious glare from the sinner in front of him.
"Tell me where she is, Lucifer." The man commanded.
"It's true, I don't know. Somewhere in Pentagram City." Lucifer shrugged, then studied the demon in front of him for a moment. "Do you seriously want to go through with this?" He asked, puzzled. "You came back half-dead from the survivors of Cannibal Town, yet you seriously think you can take on an Overlord who deals in angelic weapons?" He didn't quite know why he was asking him that question. Warning him of Carmilla Carmine's danger was rationally counterproductive—as Vaggie had said, if they were lucky, the arms dealer could kill Adam and rid them all, him especially, of the problem once and for all—and yet he found himself asking him if he was sure he wanted to risk his life for what? Revenge against someone whose only involvement with the failed Extermination had been providing sinners with effective weapons against the angels.
"Aw, you're worried about me," Adam exclaimed in a sweet, mocking tone. "That's so adorable and disturbing." He continued, as his face fell into a grimace of disgust. "Seriously disturbing, stop it."
He recognized that the notion of feeling concern for the demon was ridiculous and absurd. Lucifer felt a hint of shame threatening his pride again, but he refused to dwell on it. "It was just a subtle way to tell you you're an idiot," he retorted, opting for sarcasm.
Adam hummed again, seemingly more comfortable being insulted by the devil. "I admit I went a little overboard on the cannibals." He started, getting up from his seat on the bed and approaching Lucifer again. "But hey, there's no reason to worry your little dumb blond head about it, and do you know why?" Adam's voice carried a mischievous undertone, as he brought a heavy hand to Lucifer's head to ruffle his hair. The devil instinctively recoiled, feeling the sharp edges of Adam's claws nicking at his scalp. "Because you're coming with me!" He declared excitedly. He forcibly pulled Lucifer against his side, the devil's body stiffening at the sudden gesture.
Lucifer's heart raced with apprehension. He didn't know what he expected, but surely not being involved in Adam's revenge as his assistant. It was one thing to be forced to submit to his demands and be humiliated in the privacy of his own home, but risking being seen in public in such a state, helping a newly formed sinner attack Overlords, and especially risking ending up on the news and being seen by his daughter or some of his friends in Adam's company made him feel sick.
"No, I can't come with you." The devil retorted, trying to hide the spike of anxiety, but Adam's grip around his shoulders tightened.
"It's so funny you still think you have a fucking choice." He laughed, but his gaze was beginning to veer toward menacing.
Lucifer frantically looked for any excuse that might spare him.i this obligation, but trying to reason with Adam that he couldn't interfere with the Overlords would be futile, and trying to offer any alternative might result in an even worse outcomes, still he had to try.
"I'll help you find everything you want about her, just... don't make me come with you," he pleaded, letting desperation creeping into his voice as a last resort.
The following silence felt heavy and ominous.
"Four times, Lucifer," Adam started slowly, his voice low and dangerous. "I had to repeat myself four fucking times with you already," he said, as if it were the worst possible offense. "I'm considering punishment for the fifth," he continued, grabbing Lucifer's face and sinking his claws into his cheeks. "Do you want this to be the fifth fucking time?" He smiled as Lucifer grasped his wrist in a useless attempt to free himself.
The devil didn't know what to expect from such a threat; he was sure his own imagination was able to conjure far worse ideas than what Adam was truly capable of. The First Man lacked imagination and seemed too focused on his hunger, but the constant underlying suspicion that Adam's threats and punishments might have something to do with his daughter kept him from trying to defy him out of pride and morbid curiosity.
Because there still was that little part of him that felt a pleasurable shiver at the mention of a punishment he struggled to suppress.
"I'll come with you," Lucifer finally surrendered. Adam released his grip on the smaller man's face and mockingly patted one of his cheeks. "Good boy," he jeered.
As the devil swatted the hand away and automatically brushed the small cuts Adam's claws had left in his cheeks, the demon continued to order. "Find out where she is. It should be easy for you, you're the fucking devil after all."
Lucifer nodded and instinctively moved a few steps away from the demon again.
Standing before the First Man, awaiting further requests and orders, the devil felt an uneasy tension fill the air as unsettling silence stretched on between them. Adam's eyes traced every inch of Lucifer's figure, as to carefully study every lines, a faint smile playing at his lips. Despite trying to hide his discomfort, the smaller man shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms reflexively to hide himself from Adam's scrutiny.
"Can I go?" Lucifer's voice escaped too hesitantly, his eyes avoiding Adam's gaze.
To his surprise, Adam's hand moved forward, brushing Lucifer's hair off his face with enough care to avoid cutting his skin again, yet still exerting enough force to tilt his head back. Lucifer's heart skipped a beat at the sudden gesture, his breath catching in his throat as he was forced to look up at the man.
Lucifer was certain Adam wanted to relish the spectacle of his unease and shame up close, a curious and amused expression on his face, as his golden eyes studied Lucifer's features intently.
He attributed the shiver that ran down his back to a sense of humiliation and the undeniable hunger he saw in Adam's eyes, rather than the sweet confusion he felt at the unexpected gesture.
"Can I go?" Lucifer asked again, his voice more pleading.
Adam seemed to snap back to reality, lowering his hand and nodding in silence. As soon as permission was granted, Lucifer wasted no time slipping out of the room, intent on putting distance between himself and Adam's blatant hunger.
Finding out Carmilla Carmine's whereabouts was not a difficult task; none of the Overlords had any reason to hide, especially powerful ones like the arms dealer. In less than half an hour, Lucifer had gathered all the information Adam requested, and more. Information he honestly didn't want to know. Because now he found himself feeling horrible guilt toward the woman and her daughters. Because of all the people Adam could choose, he had to target the only hellborn Overlord with daughters.
Lucifer sighed heavily, running a hand through his tousled hair and tugging at it as he checked his phone. The thought of daughters inevitably led him to think of his own, and he realized he hadn't heard from her since Adam's dramatic TV appearance. He searched for something to say to her, but as usual, everything he thought of felt disingenuous.
He tried to convince himself that Charlie needed time, knowing full well it was just an excuse to postpone the inevitable. He couldn't deal with both his daughter and Adam right now. With another heavy sigh, he slumped in the armchair, his hands tugging at his hair again as a low groan escaped him.
He instinctively checked for blood and cuts, knowing he wouldn't find any, but unable to stop himself. He struggled to avoid dwelling on Adam's gesture and the swirl of emotions it had stirred in him. He pushed away memories of a time when he could stand beside Adam and those types of gestures were common and affectionate and playful.
He tried not to focus on the fact that he had ruined everything he had at that time with his own two hands and that he was now paying the price for it.