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YOU AGAIN - PART TWO

YEAR EIGHTEEN

Lucifer had honestly been surprised at how quiet the last year had been.

He’d spent the first month or two after revealing one of his last great secrets to his firstborn waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Every once in a while he’d peer upwards as if he could see the proverbial sword of Damocles hanging over his head and he’d been decidedly jumpy.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mallory, it was just that it was a big secret to keep and he was an excitable kid with a new best friend.

Loose lips sinking ships and all that.

But…after the first few months and a few phone calls, everything had been fine and nothing had jumped out to bite him.  

Even Alastor seemed to be in particularly high spirits lately, more doting and less controlling when it came to their interactions.  Of course, that had been happening more and more over the years without Lucifer really noticing it or marking the changes.  His husband had been more gentlemanly, more respectful of his time, less inclined to starting stupid fights just for the novelty of getting him worked up.  It had been gradual…a year by year kind of thing that the King wasn’t fully aware of.

All he really knew was he’d been able to relax a bit more each year until he was almost feeling like his old self again.

Well…his new-old self, not his old-old self.  Or maybe his old-old-old self from before the Fall? Eh.

He felt better, at any rate.

Needless to say, things had gotten good enough that the threat of everything coming apart scared the absolute sin out of him for a good couple of months.  He was a good mother though, he told himself.  He sat right on his hands and didn’t do anything to stop his children from having a relationship…a healthy, robust one.  It scared him a little bit every time he realized Benedict was having a call, but this wasn’t fucking about him so he lived with the tremors and smiled when his kids were happy.

The phone calls were pretty off and on, anyway.  Benny wasn’t the biggest fan of phones thanks to his father and mainly kept his for occasional calls through to his new friend or as an emergency contact.  Besides, both kids were pretty busy so stolen phone calls happened once or maybe twice a month.  Mal was clicking along as a musician over in Lust and Benny kept up with his lessons, helped out around his sister’s Hotel, and helped with his father’s work.  

Lucifer hadn’t been thrilled about that one, but he’d seen the way his secondborn’s golden eyes legitimately lit up whenever his father called on him.  Again, the Devil had sat on his hands because it wasn’t about him.  Besides, some dark part of him that he didn’t like to acknowledge was privately pleased that his son would be able to defend himself…would be willing to defend himself.

Mallory was trained to defend himself, but he was such a sweet kid Lucifer wasn’t altogether sure he had the gumption if push came to shove and that scared him more than knowing one of his sons was very likely a cannibal.

Better a safe cannibal than a dead saint, he’d reasoned at the time to avoid having a freak-out over the knowledge.

Lucifer Morningstar , he chided himself, your priorities are fucked.

So the months had passed, the Hotel was thriving, nothing had come around to bite him in the ass, his kids were happy, and Alastor was minding his manners.  All big enough wins that Lucifer had stopped looking over his shoulder at all hours by the end of the year.  He’d almost forgotten that there was even a problem lurking out there, lulled by the ‘rightness’ of everything clicking smoothly along.  Hell, the date of the annual Summit had even rolled around and it wasn’t like he had time to think about anything else.

It was currently the morning after said Summit and Lucifer was sitting at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of overly sweetened coffee and staring bleary-eyed at nothing.

After about the fifth year, they’d started hosting small after-parties at the Hotel so the members of the Heavenly Host who wanted to stay could have somewhere safe to unwind before returning home.  It was always only Gabriel, Emily, and Pentious who stuck around and the event always turned into quite a merry little affair (though Pentious usually disappeared after about an hour to be with Cherri.  Apparently, scoring with a psychotic cyclops once a year didn’t preclude one from holiness, so good for him).  Emily spent a great deal of time with Charlie and Vaggie and it usually ended in brainstorming sessions for reform.  Gabriel, however, usually settled for a quiet evening at the bar with Lucifer and his brother-in-law.

Lucifer had been quite enjoying introducing his brother to the various wines of Hell, but this year Gabriel had been a cheeky boy and slipped down some of the good stuff from Heaven.  Real angelic libations the like of which the Devil hadn’t enjoyed in literal eons.

The two of them had tried to ply Alastor with it, but apparently the inherent holiness of the stuff made it altogether too bitter and too strong for a pure-blooded Demon, so he’d been content to leave them to it.

Which, in retrospect, had been a mistake.

Chatting long into the night, Lucifer had sort of lost track of how much he’d consumed.  It hadn’t been an issue for Gabriel, who had never lost his tolerance.  However, there was just enough sin in Lucifer and it had been a long enough time that he’d forgotten that shit could hit like a truck .  It had ended around three in the morning with the King gleefully drunk as a skunk and sleepy as anything.  

He’d been aware of his brother gently excusing himself to return to his home and saying some pleasant words to someone…and then strong arms had scooped Lucifer up like a squirming puppy to carry him upstairs.

Sadly, Lucifer wasn’t the type to forget anything due to drink, so he remembered very well that his semi-estranged husband had been the one to get him up to his rooms and deposit him on his bed.  He unfortunately remembered fussing about it while Alastor remained cool and collected, affectionately mocking his state of inebriation even while he got him tucked in.  Most unfortunately of all, Lucifer remembered with crystal clarity that he’d been soppy enough to fucking kiss the man on the corner of the mouth in thanks before promptly falling asleep.

And now here he was sitting hungover in the kitchen a scant four hours later, throwing a quiet little strop with himself because he was mad he’d kissed his own husband.

His life was officially the most stupid.

“I understand that glaring at the coffee doesn’t actually aid in hangover recovery, Majesty.  One must imbibe it.”

Lucifer startled and almost dropped his mug when Alastor’s voice appeared at his shoulder, only catching it after a scramble and burning the absolute shit out of his hand, “Fuck!”

“Beauty and grace, dear,” the Radio Demon quipped, looking altogether too pleased about scaring his husband as he stepped away to pour his own coffee.

Eighteen years of marriage and somehow Lucifer kept forgetting to put a bell on the fucker.

The Fallen mumbled something that had sounded like a zinger in his head, but only came out as muddled petulance.

“Prettier than the dawn chorus,” Alastor hummed right back, coming to sit across from him at the otherwise deserted kitchen island with a cup of coffee as black as his soul.

“Ugh, what’s got you in such high spirits this morning?” Lucifer finally huffed, trying very hard not to think about earlier this morning, “And how are you a bigger asshole when you’re in a good mood?”

“Talent, my dear!” Alastor replied, making a little jazz hand with the one not holding his mug, “And aren’t I always in rare form the day after a Summit? Such a weight off the shoulders, you know! And, of course, now it’s time to start planning for dear Benedict’s birthday.”

Alastor loved making a to-do on his son’s birthday.  That didn’t necessarily mean it was going to be big and fancy, but it was practically the man’s favourite holiday.  Lucifer was too hungover and grumpy to admit he found that quality a little bit charming.  Fuck, if he’d been half the father Alastor was, maybe Lilith would have stuck around…

Nope.

Absolutely not .

He was too hungover for that line of thinking today.

“Right, yeah.  Any ideas what you want to do this year?” Lucifer asked, propping an elbow on the table and resting his chin on his open palm.

“The usual party at the Hotel, of course.  Poor Charlie would be quite put out if we didn’t keep the tradition.  He’ll likely want to slip away after, dear boy, but that’s par for the course” Alastor detailed, sipping his coffee.

The blonde Devil nodded along and Alastor continued, “I’ve a mind for two cakes this year.”

“Two? Why two? You and Benny don’t even like sweets,” Lucifer asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Why, Rosie passed along a simply delightful recipe for blood cocoa sponge that I’ve been dying to try to commemorate the occasion.  I know you have a particular animus towards the consumption of living things…or previously living as the case may be, so we’d need a separate one as well,” Alastor informed him breezily.

The ‘ because you do like sweets’ hung unspoken between them.

“Oh, that’s…considerate, thanks.  Kind of fucking gross, but considerate.”

“Tsk, dear, I’ll have you know that baking with blood is hardly new,” Alastor teased, delighting in causing his husband mild upset, “Practically a time-honored snout-to-tail peasant tradition.”

“We aren’t peasants, you lunatic,” the Devil tried so hard not to sound fond (which wasn't too hard considering how grumpy he felt with this damn headache).

“It’s always good to remember where one came from, pet,” the Sinner said, sounding a little less playful this time, but smile still permanently in place.

Oh.  Oh, right.

Alastor had come from poverty once upon a time, hadn’t he? 

Lucifer took another sip of his coffee and conceded, “No, you’re right.  I think Benny would enjoy trying it anyway.  Good idea, Al.”

“Mèsi, cheri,” his husband replied before flipping easily to the next task in his mind, “I do wonder if you could have a little chat with Asmodeus for me.  The matter entirely slipped my mind yesterday, unfortunately.”

Blinking, the King tilted his head, “I mean, sure, but what for?”

“I’ve a mind to invite the Prince of Lust.  Benedict does seem quite taken with him and I think it would be a lovely little surprise.  One should always have friends at a party.”

Lucifer promptly choked and then hissed when a bit of his coffee found its way into his nose.

He wheezed a little and slapped his own chest while Alastor blinked at the dramatic display and said primly, “...Or perhaps not?”

The Devil held up one blackened claw and tried to choke down the coffee he’d choked on , nose burning.  Fuck, why did that sting so much? At least it distracted him from how hard his heart was pounding.  He hadn’t expected that question and only thanked the fucking Father that Alastor didn’t really have the means of directly contacting Asmodeus or he’d be fucked already.

“Al…” he started, coughed, and started again, “That’s…that’s a really nice idea, but Ozzie is super overprotective of Mallory.  He does not want him in Pride under any circumstances.”

Alastor pressed a hand to his chest with mock-offense (though Lucifer could see from the slight twitch in one eye he actually was just a little bit offended), “And does he not believe we would be able to protect the boy for a few meager hours?”

Sighing through his nose (which still hurt), Lucifer let himself be honest about one very real issue here, “Look…I’ve met Mallory.  Pride would chew him up.  He’s a really, really nice kid…way too trusting and way too people-oriented for this Ring.  He’s a lot like Charlie, except he didn’t grow up around the dangers here and nobody really knows who he is here.  There’s only so much protection we can offer someone like that.”

“But,” and Lucifer dared to reach out a hand to rest on Alastor’s so the other man could see his sincerity, let their wedding rings touch, “I think letting them see each other is still a great idea.  Maybe we can arrange for Benny to go see him after the party?”

The Radio Demon still had a mildly mulish expression in his eyes, but he accepted the explanation, “Well…shame on King Asmodeus for letting the boy grow up so unprepared, but I suppose your suggestion has merit.”

“Al, they raised their kid for the Ring he’ll be ruling one day.  Trust me, Prince Mallory is perfectly equipped for the dangers of Lust…just not Pride.  I think you know better than anyone else, Mr. Radio Demon, that mortal souls can be particularly cunning,” the Devil snarked with a raised eyebrow at his husband.

“Hm, fair enough,” Alastor said, mollified by what he had chosen to take as a compliment, the egotistical bastard, “Now then, drink your coffee.  If that hangover feels anywhere near as bad as you look, you’ll want to get some breakfast in you as well.”

The King rolled his two-tone eyes, but did as he was told anyway, “Dick.”

****** ****** ******

“So, you can see of course why I simply had to kill him,” Benedict finished the story he’d been telling Mallory with a flourish.

They were on a video chat yet again and Mallory was rolling his eyes at his twin’s murderous theatrics.  The Prince of Lust was currently sitting in his bedroom on the floor, half sprawled against the amp he had managed to fix (thank you very fucking much) with a black guitar in his lap that he was idly strumming.  He seemed to just be noodling, playing around with chords while muffled sounds came from the speaker he was leaning one shoulder against.  His legs were crossed at the ankles and he tapped one hoof along to a beat only he could hear.

“Yeah, guy sounded like a prick.  You said he wrote a hit piece on your mom ?” Mal asked, fingers tracing gently over strings like he didn’t even need to think about it.

Hell, he probably didn’t.

“Yes.  Unfortunately, mother can be a little bit toothless when it comes to managing the rabble here.  It often falls to father and I,” Benedict sighed, but fondly.

Mal’s face was sphynx-like as he hummed, “...My mom’s got some wild mental health issues.  Maybe your mom’s the same.  I’d cut them a little bit of slack.  Moms go through a lot.”

His twin made a considering noise.

Benedict was in his room for the moment, seated at his desk and doing totally normal work that didn’t happen to include dangerous weaponry this time.  He was turned out nicely in a black button-down and a waistcoat, blonde waves perfectly groomed, and he even had a tie on.  Mallory would have never in a million years guessed he’d have a twin who wore fucking ties but here he was.  Currently, Benny was sorting through some paperwork for his sister…just basic housekeeping things like reports or complaints or maintenance requests.  He wasn’t allowed near the residents’ confidential records yet.  A paperwork guy and a tie guy, Mal thought, and none of that added up to their mother’s influence.

“Hey, you’ve never actually told me much about your dad,” the redhead gave a particularly hard strum to his guitar and purred when the vibrations jumped from the speaker to his skin, “Like, you’ve mentioned you do a lot with him, but you’ve never just told me about him.”

The Prince was fishing, but there was no way for Benny to know that.

“Oh!” Benny said as if he’d been given a particularly lovely gift, “My father is a remarkable man.  He came to Hell as a Mortal Soul, you know.  He rose to Overlord rank quickly because he was driven, organized, and ruthless…all before his soul was even a century old.  He’s very dignified most of the time.”

“So he dresses like a cop, too?” Mal teased, sticking out his forked tongue.

Benedict rolled his eyes, “He dresses like a gentleman , you trollop.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist,” the redhead smiled softly, “What’s he like with your mom?”

This was the first time their conversation had really drifted more to the finer details of parents.  Mallory hadn’t been bold enough to let it go there in the past year, but it had happened naturally and it would seem suspicious to steer away.  Besides, he wanted to know .  He already had his mom’s account of their family (and his fathers’ less than glowing review of his biological dad), but he was curious and craved more.

“Father is very protective of mother.  I don’t think they’re in love, but I’ve rarely ever seen father be less than chivalrous with him.  Sometimes I suspect…” Benny started and then stopped himself.

“No no, go on.  Judgment-free zone here,” Mal urged, desperate to hear everything he could.

His blonde twin sighed, “Sometimes…I suspect mother is the reason they’re not closer.  They’ve never shared a room in my life and frankly I’ve never once seen them share physical affection of any kind.  But father does dote on him and sometimes I wonder if it’s mother keeping him at arm’s length.  It’s…a little depressing, really.  My father is a fine man, so I can’t fathom why mother would do that.”

“That sounds like a bummer, Benny, but I’m sure they’ve got their reasons.  Adult stuff, you know,” Mal tried to reassure him, which of course earned him a snort.

“ We are going to be adults in a few weeks, Mallory.”

It was Mal’s turn to roll his eyes, “Look dude, I don’t have a choice about growing older, but like Hell I’m growing up.”

“Why are we friends again?” Benedict asked flatly.

Mal gave him big puppy dog eyes and fluttered his lashes, “My sparkling personality?”

His brother tried very hard not to look amused at his antics, but Mal could see the glimmer of mirth in his eyes.  Score.

“Anyway, what I mean is like…they might have actual adult stuff going on.  Yeah, we’re going to be legal adults soon, but our parents have years and years of shit in their pasts that we don’t even know about,” Mal tripped his fingers down a chromatic scale while he talked.

Benedict at least looked like he was considering it, “I suppose.  Well…what about your father? Your biological one.  I know you remain very close with your mother, but what about your sire?”

Mallory mouthed the word ‘sire’ like it was particularly funny and shook his head, “No idea.  Never met the guy.  I assume I got my dashing good looks from him though.  I look fuckin’ nothing like my mom except in the face a bit.  What about you?”

“What about me?” Benedict blinked.

“You’re so close to your dad.  Do you look like him?” 

“Heavens, no.  I didn’t seem to get anything from father but his height,” well, and his tail, but he certainly wouldn’t be telling Mallory about that , “I take strongly after my mother.  Even my horns resemble mother’s.  Father has antlers.”

Well, Mallory thought to himself, that explained his own ‘rack’…and why his parents made him keep them glamoured when he was around other people .

“Cool,” Mal said instead and shivered when he did a lightning fast run through the diatonic scale.

“...What are you even doing?” Benedict asked curiously.

“Huh?” 

“You’re basically just making noise over there…and you can’t even hear it with your shoulder shoved to the speaker like that.  What are you doing?” The blonde sounded a little exasperated that he even had to explain why he was asking.

“Oh, that’s easy.  I’m feeling,” Mal sounded equally exasperated as if that was the easiest concept in the universe.

“Feeling,” Benedict said blandly.

“Yup, feeling.”

Realizing this was a strange and uniquely ‘Mal’ thing, his unknowing twin hummed, “I’m lost.  Explain it to me.”

“Well, music makes vibrations, right?” the redhead explained, “Especially the shit that I play.  Sometimes that’s what I love most about it.  Like yeah, I love the sound a lot, but when you’re up on stage and the amp is cranked it’s like…it’s like you can feel every note in your blood.  It’s on your skin and buzzing in your bones.  It’s the best.”

“Like if you’re really mad, you put on the angriest song you can find and then sit with your back to the speaker.  It feels like the music is talking to your skin and it makes you feel better,” Mal went on, finally setting the guitar in his lap so he could focus on what he was saying, “Like you and the sound waves are sharing a frequency.  It makes it feel like you’re not alone.”

“...Are you lonely?” Benny suddenly asked, not sure why the idea bothered him.

Mallory blinked, “What? Nah.  I’ve got my father, my dad, Fury, Lady, the other guys in the band, and now you to talk to.  I just…” he thought about it, “I found music when I was pretty young.  My parents were pretty protective, so I didn’t get out much and I guess I was a little lonely then.  I had Uncle Blitz, but it’s different, you know?  I felt some big shit back then and sometimes it’s not something you can tell your parents no matter how cool they are.  I just felt like rock spoke my language.”

“Do you get angry a lot then?” 

“I mean, everyone gets angry sometimes,” Mal conceded.

Benny smirked and his twin huffed, “What?”

“I’ve barely even seen you annoyed.  It’s hard to imagine,” Benedict informed him.

“That’s because it all goes here,” the redhead tapped his sleek black guitar, “I don’t like taking things out on people, so I find a way to make it talk.”

It was an odd concept for Benedict who was actually quite a fan for taking things out on people.  Usually they deserved it.

“Look, you should come to a show sometime.  It’s hard to explain, you’ve just gotta be there for it.  Oh!” Suddenly Mal’s yellow-on-red eyes were glittering with excitement, “I know! My band is playing a gig on our birthday.  You should come! It’ll be at night so you can totally still do something with your family and then come out.”

Benny looked superbly unsure about attending a ‘gig’ Mal was playing.  He knew perfectly well what kind of venues he frequented and it seemed like nothing resembling ‘fun’.  But there was something about how very pleased the other boy looked with himself that he didn’t necessarily want to burst his bubble.  

Instead, he said, “Well…perhaps if I knew where it was…”

“That’s the wild part! Fury won’t tell me.”

“You…don’t know where your own show is,” the blonde sounded unimpressed.

“Well, Fury and Lady do.  They say it’s a surprise, but they arranged it weeks ago.  How about once I get there, I text you the address and you can come?” Benny was ready to refuse, but then he saw the very tip of the redhead’s spaded tail wagging with excitement.

“Well…perhaps for a little while…”

Mallory let out a war whoop of delight and damn near spilled himself over when he threw both fists up in the air in triumph.  He was going to get to show his twin this whole part of his world! He was going to get to spend his birthday with his brother and he’d show him a big side of himself.  The smaller redhead took special pleasure in being seen and understood, so for his brother to understand him was the best gift he could get this year.

“Kick-ass, man! I can’t wait to see you!”

Benedict, though he wouldn’t say it, found he was rather chuffed as well.  He couldn’t wait to see if Mallory could still make him laugh in person the way he had a year ago.  It was so odd having a friend who was neither family nor one of the Sinners he worked with every day.  

He couldn’t say it was unpleasant.

****** ****** ******

King Asmodeus of Lust didn’t enjoy having to worry about his family.

He hadn’t had to do it in a very long time, not since they’d gotten Fizz out from under Mammon’s control and since Luci had had the kids.  Things had been settled enough for so long that he almost forgot what that gut-tightening feeling was like.  Mallory was a happy kid who was watched like a hawk by not only his staff and his partner, but also by ‘Uncle’ Blitz.  Things had been steady…not easy, but good and rewarding.  It was hard watching his little Froggy get older, but he was doing it gracefully and they still had a long, long time before any big concerns about it rolled around.

The Sin had counted himself supremely lucky that that was his only real worry because even that was so far down the road…

It had been eye-opening to feel that worry again earlier in the year when the twins had accidentally rediscovered each other.  Ozzie had suddenly gone from worrying about next to nothing in regards to his family, to worrying that Mal would be upset, that Lucifer would end up more hurt than he already was, or that something would happen to fracture the peace they’d worked so hard for.  If things went south with this, there was no way baby daddy could make his way here , but Ozzie knew good and goddamn well that Alastor wasn’t above taking things out on Luci.  Worse than that, it could totally cut the twins off from each other.

What a fucking mess.

At least his baby boy had been good as gold about the whole thing.  Oz wasn’t too proud to admit he might have eavesdropped on a few phone calls in the beginning and they were just…normal.  Mundane.  Two kids getting along and nothing more. 

It had relaxed him just a little, especially when no panicked calls or texts from Luci had followed any of their little chats.  Maybe this was all going to be fine? Mal even seemed more bright and perky lately, which was a pretty big deal considering the kid was like a thousand-watt lightbulb on a bad day.

Asmodeus had made sure to keep a close eye on Luci at this year’s Summit, though just in case things had gotten bad and he was keeping it quiet.  But, he had seemed only as stressed as he usually was when he had to be around big groups of people.  He’d even been playfully picking at his husband throughout the proceedings and they’d seemed normal…for as normal as their weird-ass marriage could get.  

Things seemed totally fine.  Peachy, even.

It had fully unwound him in time for Mallory’s birthday and boy did he ever need to be unwound for that.  

Normally, Mal stayed pretty close to family for his birthday.  He either went down to the club with his parents to have some fun or he’d go chill with his Auntie Beelzebub for a party.  Sure, he’d be out of the Lust Ring sometimes, but always under the watchful eye of at least a pseudo-guardian.  This year, he and his band had a gig planned and Fury was so damn excited about surprising him.  He knew they were playing, but she’d managed to secure them something she felt was big so she was keeping mum.  She had that sparkle in her eye that said she knew Oz would be proud of her, but she didn’t want to spoil the secret.

He was nervous, but…it was Mal’s eighteenth birthday and by Ozzie’s own rules that made him a legal adult.  He owed him this much freedom.  Mal was a good kid and he’d at least have Lady with him.  She was reasonable and smart and steady.

The Sin was currently watching his excited son getting ready for the night’s show, sitting on the kid’s bed and watching him over his shoulder while he made himself up, “Now, don’t be out too late, rock star.  Your mom wants to visit tomorrow.”

“I remember!” Mal chirped, tugging at his lower lid to make sure his liner was neat on the waterline, a deep black that made the scarlet of his eyes pop.

“And don’t let Fury drive too fast.  You know Uncle Blitz’s old van isn’t the best…”

His son smiled sweetly at him, “You know Fury wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, dad.  She’s my best bitch!”

At his declaration, his smile showed all of his sharp teeth and Ozzie sighed.

“Just let your old man worry about you, okay?” 

Mal’s toothy smile softened right down and he left his vanity to come sit on the bed next to his dad, putting a small hand over his, “Dad…it’s okay.  I promise I’m coming home.  It’s going to be fine.”

Ozzie threw a big arm over his son’s slim shoulders and leaned his head on top of his kid’s hair, “You gonna knock ‘em dead for your old man tonight, duckling?”

The redhead sighed happily and leaned back into him, “Gonna let ‘em hear it in the cheap seats, pops.”

“You better, baby,” the Sin smiled big like a jack o’lantern, “Now finish putting on your face before Fury gets here.  You know that girl’ll drag you out of here if you ain’t ready when she is.”

His son planted a huge, sloppy kiss on his cheek before scrambling up off of the bed and scampering back over to his vanity, “Lippy or no?”

“Top lip only.  Makes your fangs stand out,” Asmodeus said, standing to excuse himself so Mal could have his room to himself.

He stepped out to the sound of the stereo cranking out a metal album Blitz had handed down to his son years ago.  It had the faded qualities all CDs got with enough love and time, skipping over beloved, overplayed moments and vaguely tinny.  It was loud in the way Asmodeus knew Mallory enjoyed…loud enough that he could feel it vibrating through his hooves and through any part of his skin touching the surface his stereo rested on.  Normally they had an agreement about loud rock music in the living quarters, but birthdays were the big exception.

Ozzie paused and leaned back to call, “And remember to glamour those antlers!”

“Dad!” the indignant voice called back.

The big Sin laughed and went to pour himself a drink so he could relax and just let his son have a good night.  Hell, he’d probably need to be calm to keep Fizzy from fretting once the little Imp got home from overseeing a much-needed refurbishment at the club later that night.  Asmodeus was absolutely the mother hen of the two, but when Fizz did worry, it was always dialed up to his usual eleven.

But tonight would be fine and Ozzie would do whatever it took to convince his partner of that.

****** ****** ******

Mallory skidded downstairs just in time for Fury to pull up, horn honking and yelling out the window like the tiny harpy she was.

Tonight, Mal had chosen a sleeveless black crop top with his father’s personal sigil emblazoned across the front.  He’d picked out his favourite ass-hugging black cut-offs and left his legs bare again, enjoying the freedom of movement it would give him onstage without having to navigate a pair of heavy boots.  He’d followed his father’s advice on the lipstick, going deep black on the top lip and nowhere else.  Other than that it was thick eyeliner on his lower lid, his favourite black jewelry threaded into his piercings, and his beloved guitar slung across his back.

He’d even painted his nails fresh tonight!

Giddy, he practically threw himself into the back of the van with their last two bandmates since Fury and Lady were taking up the front seats.  Their bassist and keyboard player were chilling in the middle seats, a pair of twin Succubi that Fury had actually picked up a little while back who fit into their merry band of misfits just fine.

“Alright, Fury, where the Hell are we going?” Mallory asked, shifting his guitar to sit next to him, “And did you guys get the gear?”

“Lady grabbed everything while you were finishing your make-up, Princess,” Fury quipped with a big grin before looking at the twins in her rearview, “And where we’re rocking tonight is still a surprise.  Erzulie? Min? Get him!”

Poised, both of the twins grabbed their laughing friend and wrestled a black blindfold over Mal’s face while he squirmed and playfully protested.  He didn’t really fight them much and let them win pretty easily as the van rolled into motion and blew through the streets of Lust.  It was hard to be upset when his friends had planned such a big surprise for him and Fury was playing one of his favourite albums on the ancient sound system.  

“Can you at least tell me the name of the place we’re going? My friend is supposed to come see our show and I need to tell him where to go!” He giggled and let himself relax between the Succubi like a puppy.

Fury and Lady looked at each other before the small Imp shrugged.  It wouldn’t kill him to at least know the name.

Lady turned her head back and spoke in a low, husky voice, “Some new joint called Frequency.  It’s supposed to be a big deal.  Big enough that the owner sent a blast through social media about it.  Fury worked on them to get us a set.”

“That’s so righteous,” Mal’s grin was so big it felt unnatural on his face, letting his head hang back over the seat, “But just letting you bitches know if this blindfold screws up my make-up, I’m gonna be mad.”

“Hold on to that emotion, Mal, because we also decided that you’re singing at least one song tonight and we want it to be potent ,” Erzulie hugged his arm and grinned against his hair while they sing-songed.

“What? Guys, no…” 

“No discussion!” Min piped up in a voice identical to their twin’s, “You love to sing, babes, and you never let yourself.  One song isn’t gonna hurt anyone.”

“...Only one, right?”

Fury grinned in triumph even though Mallory couldn’t see it, “It’s your birthday, Mal.  You deserve to sing it out.”

“You know what? Fuck it! I’ll do it!” the Prince of Lust declared and let himself relax, “Can someone text the Narc to let him know the name of the venue? He’s in my phone.”

Fury’s whoop of joy paired with the growl of the van as she urged it faster.

****** ****** ******

Benedict was sitting quietly at the bar while his party began to wind down, just enjoying a drink with the quieter members of the hotel while he watched everyone else.  

He enjoyed Husk’s company.  The contracted soul was quiet and solid and he knew both father and son’s quirks well enough by now that he rarely if ever transgressed on their boundaries.  His partner, Angel, was seated next to them both, chatting low at the Chimera while he enjoyed his own drink.  The two of them had been some of Benny’s favourite babysitters when he was a child and despite Angel’s occasionally bombastic nature, the youngest Morningstar felt comfortable around him.

Out in the main lobby, his father was making a game attempt at coaxing his mother into a dance.  Lucifer was currently trying to resist, but Benny could tell it wouldn’t be too long.  His mother’s feet were already finding the beat against his will and he would surely let himself go and enjoy it shortly.  His sister was already laughing and dancing with her wife.  Everyone looked to be in a good mood…so all in all, another success.

“...I’ve never seen you stare at your phone that hard, kid.  You waitin’ for somethin’?” Angel asked gently with a little smirk on his face.

Benedict realized his attention had drifted to his mobile again and he cleared his throat, pulling his hand away from it, “...A friend wants me to go see his concert tonight.  He said he’d text me to let me know where it was.  I’m just waiting, I suppose.”

The spider rested his elbow on the bar and placed his chin in his topmost hand, “Really? You goin’ out? Man, a party last year and a concert tonight…you’re really startin’ to get around, huh?”

“It’s just because he asked and I likely won’t stay long,” Benny huffed faintly, feeling like he needed to defend himself.

But then Angel was chuckling, “I ain’t makin’ fun of you.  It’s a good thing.  I was already raisin’ hell at eighteen an’ you’re pretty much just here when Smiles doesn’t have you doin’ creepy shit.”

“Angel…” the Chimera said with gentle reproach.

“Smiles knows I think he’s creepy.  Pretty sure he likes it that way,” Angel brushed his partner off with a wink.

The buzz of Benedict’s phone pulled him away from the playful argument and he was sure his golden eyes lit up because he was suddenly aware of Angel watching him intently.

“Where is it?” The spider asked, knowing their conversation would be covered by the jazz music Alastor was currently making Lucifer dance to.

The blonde Prince squinted at his screen, “...I’ve been informed that it’s some venue called ‘Frequency’?”

Angel started and looked quickly at Husk.  The two shared a long look that Benedict watched warily.

“What?”

“Well…good news is it’s right here in Pride,” Angel started, sounding unsure.

“ Bad news is we’re pretty sure that joint is funded by Vox.  His name isn’t slapped on the damn place, but Angel thinks the guy financed it.  Which means the Vees are involved,” Husk finished, frowning into the glass he’d been sipping from.

Benedict frowned - no more than a bunching of his brows and a faint downturn of his lips.  Well, that was a nasty turn of events.  He’d likely need to turn his friend down…

Angel tapped on the bar next to him to get his attention without touching him, “I’ll go with ya.”

“...Beg pardon?”

“I said I’ll go with ya.  I know where it is and I know what to look out for with the Vees.  No guarantee they’ll even be there, and I’m kinda proud of ya gettin’ out and seein’ friends.  So fuck it, I’ll be your chaperone,” the Sinner informed him with a wink.

The Prince was torn between claiming he didn’t need a chaperone and appreciating having the buffer of someone who knew how these places worked.  He settled on the most safely logical line of thinking…seeing Angel as an ally walking into a potential battleground.  He knew the Vees far too intimately and would be able to sniff out danger before it had a chance to strike.  He was going to be Benedict’s very own canary in a coal mine.

Yes.

Yes, that sufficed to soothe his ruffled pride.

Almost as if he could see the line of Benny’s thinking, Angel just smiled a little wider, “Lemme go change and you tell the ‘rents you’re headin’ out.  See ya in thirty, kiddo.”

Benny watched him disappear before turning to Husk, “...Is this alright?”

“Why? You worried about the Vees or something?” Husk asked nonchalantly, going back to his drink.

“Well, I know Angel has a very negative relationship with them.  He’s essentially throwing himself into what could be an extension of their territory.  I’m surprised you don’t tell him no…” Benedict said, looking unsure.

His father’s contracted soul gave him a wry twist of the lips, “Kid, I can’t control Angel.  We’re happiest when I let him do what he believes he can.  If he can’t? I pick up the pieces and help him move forward.  Sometimes I just gotta let him do things I don’t like.”

Husk tapped a claw on the bar pointedly, “Little relationship advice for you.”

The youngest Morningstar’s nose curled up at the mention of a ‘relationship’ and Husk laughed, “...You really are your daddy’s kid.  A’ight, go talk to your parents.”

Raised golden brows that told Husk perfectly well that the Prince was politely refraining from rolling his eyes.  All it got him was a chuckle in return and Benedict turned on his heel to walk over to where his father had finally relented and released his mother with a rather elaborate spin.  Lucifer landed on a nearby couch with a little ‘whuff’ noise and he was trying to look annoyed through a grin.

Lucifer was actually allowing father to dance with him even if he was pretending to hate it.  It was a good night.

“Mother, father?”

Trying to straighten his hair on the couch, Lucifer smiled brightly, “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Mallory texted.  It’s time for me to go to the concert.  I don’t think I’ll be home any later than last year,” the Prince actually sounded somewhat lighter than he usually did.

“Oh really ?” Alastor asked, “Time to sally forth already? But the night is still young!”

Benedict nodded, tucking his hands behind his back in a neat fold.

Lucifer piped up from the couch having finally gotten himself put back together, “You’ll keep your phone on you, right?”

“I always do, mother,” Benny took a moment to walk over to the couch and press a kiss to his mother’s golden hair, knowing how much he enjoyed it, “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.  Enjoy the rest of the party.”

“Have a great time, sweetheart,” the King of Hell smiled softly before promptly being plucked up from the couch as a Cab Calloway song tuned in over his father’s static, “Al, no!”

Benedict chuckled softly and stepped out the door to wait for Angel while his mother squawked.

At almost thirty minutes exactly (the Sinner had his make-up down to a science at this point), Angel sauntered out the door with a wink.  The two of them strolled down the lane towards the main thoroughfare, looking to get a cab.  Benny probably could have asked his mother for a direct portal, but he didn’t want to raise any alarm when it came to the Vees possibly being involved.  Besides, a portal near to the venue would only draw attention…better to play it a bit closer to the vest.

“So, who we goin’ to see?” Angel asked easily, opening his clutch to pop out a cigarette.  

By now he was entirely off the hard drugs and down to a single drink a day with Husk, but the occasional cigarette was still fine.

“My friend’s band.  He claims they’re called ‘Sound and Fury’.  They’re from the Lust Ring,” Benedict said, sidling a few steps away so the smoke wouldn’t reach him.

“Oh right, is this the kid you met last year?”

“Yes.  I’m not incredibly interested in the kind of music he plays, but he believes it’s important for me to experience it at least once.  Something about feeling the music instead of hearing it.  It seems to mean quite a lot to him.”

Angel carefully tucked his fond smile into the filter of his cigarette so the kid wouldn’t catch his indulgent expression.  Learning you cared about other people was always a weird first step for guys like Alastor and his son, and Angel didn’t want to seem condescending.  But, he’d always known there was something at least a little sweet hiding under the layers of latent psychopathy in the little man-eater.  There was no chance a whole person could come out of the dorky King of Hell without being at least a little bit good in their own fucked way.

“It’s good you’re takin’ an interest.  I’m sure he’ll be happy to see ya.  Just…try an’ see things the way he does tonight.  You might end up havin’ fun!” Angel counseled.

“We’ll see,” Benny shook his head, but a small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.

****** ****** ******

Mallory’s elegant hooves were clicking against the floor of the van with excited nerves by the time the van pulled to a stop.  They’d been driving for a while and he’d definitely heard the hustle and bustle of the Ring Interchange once or twice.  Wherever they were going, it definitely wasn’t in Lust anymore.  This was turning into a real adventure.  And the fact that someone from multiple Rings away wanted them to play…

That was cool as fuck!

The van’s wing door popped open with a rusty squeal after they’d come to a full stop and Fury giddily announced, “We’re here! You can take the blindfold off now!”

Mal’s grin was all teeth as he struggled to get the fabric off.

He hissed a bit as his eyes fought to adjust to the influx of light after so long in darkness.  While he tried to get his oversensitive eyes to calm the fuck down, he could hear Lady, Min, and Erzulie starting to unload gear.  There were some voices shouting, asking if they were one of the acts, which Fury confirmed.  Someone else was shouting instructions over thumping music.  Everything sounded so busy and alive .

Slowly, Mallory cracked open one eye open, then the other.  He looked out the window of the van to try and get his bearings.

And he gasped.

He felt like he was drowning in a sea of crimson.

They were currently parked in a service alley right next to the back of the club where loud music was playing, everything washed in the light of a glowing red moon that Mal had never seen before.  When he squinted up at the sky, he could just see the edge of a glowing thing up there that felt so utterly alien it actually turned his stomach a bit.  

Bringing his gaze down from the heavens, he popped his head out of the open van door and could only stare at the sheer variety of people bustling around.  Sure, he could see Imps and the occasional Hell Hound wandering through or working to load them in, but everyone else…not any two people looked even remotely the same.  It was such a vast hodge podge of forms that he was a little dazzled.  Wait…were these Sinners ?

Holy.  Fucking.  Shit.

Were they in Pride ?!

Without a single scrap of grace, Mallory stumbled out of the van and only just remembered to snag his guitar on the way out.  He had to see everything.  It smelled like absolute shit here, but it was all just another facet of an exciting new experience, so he barely noticed.  He slung his guitar over his back and took a step backwards while trying to absorb everything…

And he promptly backed into something solid.

Rapidly, Mallory turned around to apologize to whoever he’d bumped into and found himself looking at…a torso.  Slowly, the redhead dragged his eyes upwards until he was staring directly up into a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses and a huge, crimson smile.

“Well well, aren’t you just a ripe little cherry, baby.”

“...Shit, you’re tall,” Mal replied dumbly before immediately wanting to kick himself.

Real smooth.

It only made the towering man’s smile wider, one gold tooth glimmering in his mouth, “And you, pequeña cereza, are practically bite-sized.  Are you with the band?”

Something about the man’s smooth purr wrapped around Mallory’s ears and he blushed, “Oh! Yeah! Sorry, I should…”

The man placed a slim cigarette filter to his lips and inhaled while dragging his eyes up Mallory’s body from hoof to hidden antlers.  Slowly, he tilted his head to one side and blew out a plume of red smoke, aiming it to just brush the smaller man’s cheek like a caress.  He watched as Mallory’s slit pupils dilated ever so slightly at just the barest whiff.

“Of course.  Run along now,” the tall man (he could only be a Sinner) purred low in his chest.

Mal couldn’t help his blush, only staring a moment longer before turning and dashing towards the door.  As he passed by a streetlight, it flashed against the bare skin of his back and shoulders, giving the Sinner the barest peek of faint, pale fawn spots dappling the little ginger’s skin.

Red hair, darling fawn spots, and those sweet little hooves? Vox was going to love this.

The television demon had developed quite the taste for deer Sinners and redheads since Alastor’s marriage to Lucifer.  A double-header was sure to put him in a good mood.  Maybe they’d actually keep this one around for a little while instead of putting his body in the nearest available trash heap.

Utterly oblivious to the predator at his back, Mallory scampered into the performer’s entrance after the rest of the band.  It was a little disorienting back here, but all he really had to do was follow the sound of Fury’s voice echoing through the halls while she and Lady got everyone set up.  His friend could be a right bitch when the mood struck her, but she’d been working for his parents so long, she could keep a stage running like a well-oiled machine.  She turned quickly to him with a broad grin when she caught sight of her friend coming up the side steps.

“ There you fucking are! Well, what do you think?!”  She sounded so pleased with herself.

Mallory was flushing with overstimulation and just staring at Fury, “How the fuck did score us a gig in the Pride Ring?” 

He leaned in to whisper to her, “My parents are going to lose their shit if they find out you snuck me into the fucking Pride Ring ! They’ve never brought me here before!”

“Turns out some bigshot Sinners thought it was exotic to have an act from Lust ask to perform.  They had a slot on your birthday and I figured what better way to celebrate your eighteenth than getting us a whole new audience?” Fury explained, watching as Mallory nervously started tuning up.

She did look a little worried when it came to his parents, but not because she was afraid of them…it was because she was terrified of disappointing them, “I also thought…maybe…if I booked something big for the band your ‘rents would be a little proud of us, y’know? Like, they might have to worry less about you because we did this on our own.”

That comment was just for her and her Brother From Another Mother.

Mallory’s keyed-up face softened and he reached out to touch his friend’s shoulder, “...It’s gonna be great, Fury.  Let’s finish setting up and show these mortal souls how to fuckin’ rock.”

He focused on tuning his guitar up and putting it through its paces to check the sound and to start getting the audience warmed up for them.  All around him he could hear the sounds of people …of club-goers chattering, the discordant sounds of instruments tuning up, the low thump of the house music until they were ready.  It was a heady cocktail that went straight to his soul and left him feeling giddy.  Mallory’s hooves tapped while he worked, he swung his hips, and he was totally in the zone.

It was the sight that Benedict and Angel walked into once they got past the bouncers.

“...Holy shit, so uh…which one is your friend?” The spider asked, looking at the band warming up on stage.

Benedict was currently biting down on his back molars so hard it was a wonder they hadn’t cracked yet.  

There were so many bodies here.  He could smell sweat and alcohol and too many people’s colognes.  Someone had already tried to touch him in the queue and had earned a broken hand for their efforts.  If it wasn’t for how much this clearly mattered to Mallory, he would have turned around and gone right back to the Hotel to maybe coax his mother into a dance.  The only saving grace was that the latent violence simmering off of the irate Prince was serving to ward people off at least a little bit.

He blinked when Angel spoke and looked up at the stage, gesturing to the redhead, “That’s Mal.”

“Hoooooly shit, that’s your friend? Damn, kid,” the Sinner whistled, “Don’t let Val catch sight of him.  Legs like that would just disappear into the Studio never to be seen again.”

Not to mention the troubling number of Sinners that had been…vanishing in Vox’s scope.

Benedict had to fight harder than he wanted to suppress a growl at that.

“Easy,” Angel said gently and pointedly didn’t reach out to touch the kid’s arm, “Everything’s gonna be fine.  We’re here to have fun, right?  Wanna find a place to settle in for the show?” 

“...Somewhere near a speaker please,” the Prince finally relaxed enough to say.

“You sure? It’ll be loud and I know you don’t like the noise thing,” his former babysitter asked with genuine consideration.

“Mallory informed me that it is important to ‘feel’.  I’d like to try it his way.”

The two moved over near the speakers and found a cozy little nook where few other people were standing.  They waited and just observed the band warming up, Angel seeming perfectly settled in the loud, sticky, overwhelming atmosphere of the club.  Benedict attempted to emulate his easy acceptance while taking everything in.

Benedict recognized Fury of course.  She’d been with Mal the night the two young men had met and Mal talked about her often.  The statuesque white Hell Hound was new, however, as were the twin Succubi sharing the stage with them.  Such a fascinating collection of people the redhead chose to surround himself with…and all of them from the so-called Lesser castes.  Choosing to associate almost exclusively with them certainly fit with what he knew about Mallory’s low opinion on class divisions.

The Prince of Lust himself was kneeling on stage and chatting to a tech while strumming away on his guitar, looking content and focused.  His tail was waving idly in a way that suggested happiness and his eyes seemed intent in that way they did when he was really deep into whatever he was doing.  He nodded about something when the tech was talking before standing and walking over to Fury with a pleased expression.

They were starting.

Fury strutted up to her mic and crowed out, “What up, Pride, how you guys feelin’ tonight?!”

It got her a rowdy chorus of shouts and cheers from the audience.

“ Fuck yeah! Keep that hype, y’all, because we’ve got one hell of a show for you.  As a matter of fact, we’re kicking off the night with a special treat…a song by our lead guitarist, Mallory.  Now, he doesn’t sing much, so this is a rare fuckin’ honor.  Who’s ready ?!” She howled, getting the crowd whipped up.

Then she stepped away from the mic, giving it over to the taller redhead who looked radiant under the flashing lights.  Truly in his element.

He didn’t give much of an introduction, just set the mic at his level and adjusted his guitar.

Benedict caught himself leaning forward curiously.

Graceful, clawed hands began to dance over the strings, pulling out the first golden chords of the song, his touch fast and light and practiced.  Mallory was grinning like the Devil himself, inhaling deeply and falling into the hypnotic draw of his own music.  The drums and keys filled in behind him, bass catching the rhythm and fleshing out the sound until it became the heartbeat of the living song.  

Leaning into the mic, hips falling into a one-two sway, Mal began to sing.

His voice was a soaring, smooth tenor that rivaled Lucifer’s own.  As he let himself go, his gold-on-crimson eyes fell half lidded and he practically wailed the lyrics into the mic with an utter lack of inhibition.  He was in the music and the music was in him.  It was as if he became a holy font of sound and feeling, pure energy falling from his lips to grace the ears of any lucky enough to hear him.

Whatever Benny had thought he was expecting, it wasn’t this.  He had been trying to focus on the vibrations like Mallory did.  He had to admit that to him the sensation felt more like ants digging under his skin...he was entirely unable to tap into the transcendent experience they gave his friend.  But, the minute the other man opened his mouth, he couldn’t even focus on the uncomfortable feelings anymore.  Something about the music…about Mal’s voice…latched into his chest and pulled .  

He vaguely heard Angel whisper, “Shit…” next to him and he sounded a little drunk.

Was this what Mal meant when he said his voice ‘did things’?

Looking around at the room, Benny could see the Lesser Demons and Sinners falling into the song and Mal had been right…it wasn’t hypnosis.  It really was more like a drug.  He felt free and wild, so his voice called the people around him to revel in the same feelings...a Bacchanalian siren.  Whatever he told them to feel, they felt.  Even Angel didn’t seem entirely immune, but a long history with mind-altering substances had given him a bit of a resistance.  

Back up on stage, the band was in full swing and Mal’s eyes had fallen entirely shut while he unleashed himself on the crowd.  He was singing with his full chest, gyrating and moving his feet while those long fingers danced over the strings.  It very nearly seemed like he was possessed by the music.

Benedict understood .

This music would never be for him and he still couldn’t ‘feel’ the music the way his friend did, but he understood with perfect clarity what it meant now.  It was Mallory’s communion with his audience…sharing a depth of his spirit that words alone could never hope to achieve.  The band was a singular being that existed only to spread his sonic gospel.

The song seemed to last forever and no time at all, Benny coming fully back to himself as the crowd around him started going nuts when it ended.

If that was Mallory’s voice doing ‘weird shit’ then it was practically a crime he wasn’t better trained to use it.

Switching over to the usual formation and getting Fury back behind the mic, the band picked up with their next song easy as breathing.  Their audience was perfectly primed to follow their every move and everyone was in a fantastic mood…perfect for a party.  They stuck with the band like they had been loyal followers for years, losing themselves to the night as the set progressed.  Nobody in the room really noticed when a particularly tall Sinner sidled up to the very end of the bar, phone in hand and speaking low.

“...Did you get that, Vox?”

“Make sure the ginger gets ‘the good stuff’,” because of course Vox had seen it.  He had funded this place, so of course he’d wired it up to keep an eye on it.  He saw everything.

Val grinned all teeth and menace, “You got it, baby.  Seduce or snatch?”

“Snatch.  I want this one to hurt.”

“Sure I can’t make some use of him?”

“You can use snuff footage, can’t you?”

The pimp pretended to sigh, heavy and put out, “The opportunities I pass up for you.”

Vox made a noise and hung up, but Val hadn’t expected more.  The kid was a triple threat for hitting all of Vox’s festering murder kinks…bright red hair (the short cut was an added bonus), the deer features, and a voice that could apparently work a crowd.  He was practically a tiny, delicate Alastor and that was just too bad for him.  The suffering he’d go through at Vox’s hands as an effigy of the smiling freak that the Overlord could no longer hope to touch would be breathtaking .

Maybe if Val begged extra pretty he could convince Vox to make it an impermanent death this time so they could put that pretty boy to work .

Turning to the bartender (who knew the Vees weren’t his direct boss but also knew who paid the bills), Valentino tapped on the counter with a nail, “Once he’s off-stage, make sure to pass the redhead a bit of that Number Nine.  Tell him it’s from an admirer.”

“...Yes, sir.”

“And keep an eye out for if he’s alone.  Your bouncers know the drill,” Val’s smile was an ugly, smug thing.

They did know.

It was a sad, terrible fact that any property the Vees had their hands on was little better than a hunting ground whenever one of them was in the mood.  It wouldn’t be the first or the last time a fresh, pretty young soul was sacrificed on the altar of their empire.  Some lived to tell the tale (usually in a contract before the night was out).  Some…well.

The Overlord slipped back into the bowels of the venue, his instructions clear.

His departure was swallowed up by pounding music and the crush of bodies as Fury’s husky alto rose and fell with the thumping beat.  

Mallory had never felt so fucking alive.  It was like the soundwaves lived in his skin and he was riding the high of that sensation.  He smiled through their entire set, watching Fury own the crowd like it was her birthright.  The whole band was on fire from top to bottom and he just fucking knew they were something special.  Every eye was on them, every ear was tuned to them, every heart was thumping to their beat.  And, as he raised his jewel-tone eyes up during one of their last songs…he saw Benedict and his heart screamed in delight.

His brother had made it and he was watching! 

He was…still dressed like a fucking narc, but he was here !

The redhead’s smile widened until it surely hurt and he ripped into the final song with a new energy, getting a second and third wind all at once.  Hell, he was excited enough to throw some backing vocals down for Fury (who looked thrilled to see him cutting loose).  They’d end their set on a good note and keep the crowd sweet.  Mallory fed them his joy, his pride, and his pleasure on a wave of melody.  

He was practically breathless by the final note, eyes bright.  Mal felt too big for his own skin as the applause hit.  His smile was a thing of teeth and elation.  Vaguely aware of Fury doing their wrap-up on the mic next to him, all he could do was pant and watch Benny for anything…acknowledgment or approval…just something.

The only thing he was aware of outside of his brother were Lady’s strong hands easing the guitar out of his own and slipping the strap from over his head, “Hey birthday boy…go talk to your friend.  We’ll get the kit back in the van, alright?”

“Thank you, Lady!” Mal said, throwing his arms around her big, broad shoulders before jumping down off the stage and making a beeline for his twin.

Before he could get too far, there was a hand on his arm and he turned, expecting it to be a fan who just wanted to talk…to congratulate them for the show.  Instead, it looked like one of the bartenders had sought him out, drink in hand.

“Oh, hey!” the Prince greeted him, friendly and breathless, “Sorry, am I in your way?”

“Fan sent you this.  On the house,” the bartender replied, averting his eyes like he didn’t want to make contact.

“Oh fuck! Thanks, man! Have a good night!” Almost as a reflex, Mal reached into his too-tight back pocket and slid a bit of cash out as a tip before taking the drink.

He didn’t notice the bartender’s discomfort as he took it, disappearing again.

The drink was…well…it was something.  It was in a short little rocks glass, but it wasn’t whiskey.  No, instead it was an almost offensive (delightfully so) shade of pink with a slight sheen on top.  It certainly looked like something he’d enjoy drinking and a sniff proved it was fruity, but also odd.  It triggered some sense memory in the back of the guitarist’s head…was it that guy’s cigarette smoke from earlier? It was definitely a little floral…pungent…primal?

Fuck, could a drink even have adjectives like that?

Shrugging, Mallory knocked it back and shuddered a little bit as something about the taste settled on his tongue.  It was a little bit like he’d just walked into a room post-orgy with his mouth wide open, the air still thick with sex.  It was fucking weird, but there was enough sugar in the damn thing that he guessed it was okay enough.  Besides, he wasn’t going to be rude about a freebie from a fan even if it did make his mouth a little numb.

By the time he’d licked the last of the sugary, weird concoction from his lips, Mal had made it over to the speaker where Ben and Angel had fetched up, “Benny! You made it!”

Something registered for the little redhead, “Wait…is that Angel Dust ? You’re the Angel Dust! Oh wow, we used to get broadcasts of your shows licensed back home all the time! Ben, do you know him?”

“You did ask me to come,” Benedict said primly, pretending like he hadn’t considered backing out once or twice and instead basking in the undiluted happiness radiating off of his friend, “And yes Angel Dust is an old family friend.”

Angel, for his part, was staring at the little redhead now that he was up close and getting a weird sense of deja vu.  He brushed it off as a contact high.  Surely the lingering smoke in the air from other people getting their collective fix was getting to him after so many years clean.  Or maybe it was weird to get noticed for the sex stuff by someone this young.  

“Pleased to meetcha.  Killer show.  Hey, you kids gonna be okay if I step out for some fresh air?  Just need to clear the old thinker out for a sec.”

“We’ll be fine.  I’ll text if I decide to head out before you’re back,” Benedict said, watching the tall Sinner nod and slip between the crowd like it was second nature.

When he turned back, he noticed faintly that Mallory’s pupils had dilated and he still seemed to be breathing a little harder than necessary.  The high of the performance, he assumed.

“So! What did you think? Did it totally kick ass? Did you feel it?” Mal was talking a mile a minute, so fast that the words seemed to slur a tiny bit.

That was odd.  Normally, even at his most excited, Mallory had relatively good diction.

Benedict brushed it off and chalked it up to the energy of the show, “I…think that this music will never be to my tastes, and the feel of the speaker was…overstimulating.  However, I see why it matters to you.”

Mal’s smile was lopsided, but real, “So you hated it, but you’re happy for me.”

“In so few words? Yes.”

The other Prince laughed and didn’t seem to take it personally at all, “Fuck, fine with me! I’m just so glad you came !”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re in the Pride Ring.  I was under the impression this place was off-limits to you,” or at least Benedict knew that his father had explained as much to him.

“Off-limits? Naaaaahhhh,” Mallory said and wondered why his tongue felt weird, “My dads are weird about letting me outta Lust and they seem pretty nervous about Pride…or at least they really don’t like talking about it with me…but they’ve never said I couldn’t come!”

The subject of the Pride Ring, much like the subject of Mallory’s biological father, had been a verboten topic in their household.  Both of his parents seemed ‘edgy’ about the whole thing.  He’d never been allowed to accompany Asmodeus to the Summits, but he was just a kid so that didn’t need to be explained too much.  He never needed to come and visit Blitz here because Blitz always came to him.  His parents seemed wary enough about the place that this had been secret, but no one had ever looked Mallory in the face and outright told him no .  He would be offered alternatives or the topic would be laid to rest, but no one had forbidden him.

Which…didn’t go along with what Benedict understood about the situation.

Mallory didn’t seem to notice his confusion, brow furrowing when he realized…he felt really warm.  He felt hot and his knees were a little shaky.  It kind of felt like his body was starting to melt around him.  Maybe that spider guy had the right idea and a little fresh air would hit the spot.  Maybe he’d go chill by the van for a minute and make sure the guys didn’t need any help loading out?

He managed to say, “Hey Benny? I’ll be right back.  I’m just gonna go check on something.”

But it sounded muddled in his ears.  He didn’t really register golden eyes watching him warily before he spun on his heel and started to walk through the crowd to the band entrance.  He didn’t really have any extra brainpower to devote to that kind of awareness.  He was fully focused on trying to get his legs to keep moving forward.  It was like trying to run through water…everything felt slower…harder to accomplish.  The lights seemed too bright all of a sudden and the music was too loud.

It was okay.  He just had to get outside and his head would clear.

He didn’t notice he was being followed as he stumbled into the hallway, shoulder barking the wall as he briefly lost his footing.  Mallory just focused on the smell of outside air and followed that.  He felt drunk but that was nuts.  He’d only had one drink tonight, he thought as he finally got outside and nearly tripped into the van.  It was deserted, the rest of the band probably inside and enjoying themselves with the load-out done or mostly done.

It was okay.  He was outside now.  He could breathe.

But he was still so dizzy and his limbs still felt so nerveless.

Mallory went to rest his forehead against the cool glass of the van’s wing door window and caught a flicker of reflection in it.

“Min…? Erzulie…?” he asked at first because they were the only one whose heights made sense with what he was seeing, “M’fine, jus’ a li’l dizzy…”

The voice behind him was gruff, “Fuck, how much of a dose did that idiot give you, red? You shouldn't be feelin' it this bad yet.”

Baffled, Mal tried to turn, but suddenly a strong arm was clamped around his middle and a rag was shoved over his nose and mouth.  It stank.  He couldn’t scream or bite through it.  His arms were pinned to his sides and only now were alarm bells shrieking in his disoriented skull.  He thrashed, but it felt weak even to him…he couldn’t get the leverage he needed to make his struggles really count.

Colours and lights swam in front of his eyes and he jerked again while the voice muttered against his ear, “Jackass gave you so much you ain’t even gonna be fun for the boss.  He likes it when they scream and put up more of a fight.  Asshole.”

As a desperate, last ditch animal instinct, Mallory threw his head back and could have sobbed in relief when he felt one of his antlers (they were glamoured, not gone after all) slam into something that gave.  There was a spray of hot blood against the back of his head, a scream, and then he was hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes.  It hurt and rattled his already impaired brain so all he could do was lie there for a minute.

Knife.  He had to reach his knife.

He reached with one fumbling hand for the slim knife he kept tucked in his waistband, but his fingers were too stupid to just grasp the damn thing.

“Fucking bitch !” His attacker snarled and suddenly there was a meaty fist on his slim ankle, yanking him back.

Mal could feel pavement digging into his face.

He let out a distressed bleat and kicked out with his free hoof, but it was too slow.  Everything was too fucking slow .  A hand knotted in his red hair, dragging him up to his knees even though the rest of him felt like dead weight.  The man above him was swearing, was cursing him, was snarling and threatening him, shaking him by the hair and bleeding on him.

“Fuckin’ hope the boss rapes you to death , you stupid little whore! You know how long it’ll take my eye to grow back?!”

Mallory tried to claw at the man’s legs and got a punch to the temple for his troubles, ringing his proverbial bell and taking away even more vital reaction time.  He was panicking.  Breathing was hard and he was in pain and his body wouldn’t obey him.  The panic turned to rage in his chest and even helpless as he felt, he still managed to force every last ounce of will into his voice.

“Get the fuck off me!”

The man stumbled back a pace like he’d been gripped by a sudden terror, compelled.

Before he could come to his senses and retaliate, a gunshot rang out down the alley and Mal’s attacker hit the pavement, down for the count.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shiiiiit,” a familiar voice was saying, dashing up the alley towards them.

Then Angel Dust’s face appeared over where Mallory had collapsed, his expression concerned and a tommy gun slung over one shoulder, “Shit, kid.  Shit.  You okay?”

Mallory tried to slur something up at him, but for now his mouth was done complying.

“Fuuuuuck.  Did you drink anything? Did anyone hand you something?” Angel slapped his uninjured cheek gently to try and bring him around.

The redhead grimaced and weakly tried to reach out to bat his hand away.

“Pink,” was all he could manage and Angel’s face looked even more worried than before, tinged with rage.

“Motherfucker,” he snarled.

Mallory became vaguely aware of another voice appearing and this one made him feel safe.  It was Benny.  It was his twin.  Benny must have followed behind him…or gotten worried about him.  His brother was here and he whined softly.

“Benny…”

“What.  Happened.” Benedict’s voice was more of an order than a question.

Angel was doing everything to keep Mal awake and aware, “Someone fuckin’ dosed him, kid, and they weren’t fuckin’ around.  We’ve got to get him out of here, right the fuck now.  Call his Majesty to open a portal.  We gotta get your friend somewhere safe.”

Mallory was aware of people moving over and around him and that Benedict was near him.  He reached out to clutch with a hand and quickly found fingers wrapped around his, holding tight.  

Over him, Benedict was saying, “Mother? Mother, this is urgent.  Can you locate me? I need a portal back to the hotel.  Now.  What? No…mother I am fine .  I’ll explain when I get there.  Make a portal.”

Benedict hung up his phone and went right back to gripping his friend’s hand.  He was furious.  He was so angry he could feel the wild raging animal thrashing to get out and exact vengeance.  Someone had attacked his friend…had hurt him and had certainly intended to do even more hurt before Angel had shot him.  Someone had intended to touch him against his will if the fact that he’d been slipped a drug Angel recognized meant anything.  It was taking every shred of his hard-taught self control not to go back in there and burn the shithole to the absolute foundations.  He tried not to feel alarmed that it had happened so fast.

Beneath him, Mallory was trying to say something, but it was all coming out slurred and wrong and his eyes were so painfully confused.  He didn’t understand what was happening to him, just that he was in danger.  Benny felt a small spark of pride that his friend had at least fought back (not every injury on the corpse down the alley came from a single gunshot), but it was outweighed by the sheer magnitude of everything else.  He was staring hard at Mal, trying to get him to focus when his eyes drifted up and he noticed…antlers.

They weren’t large…just delicate things.  Maybe three points each and swept back rather than straight up.  He’d never seen those before.  Was that the glamour Mal had talked about once?

One of them was slathered in blood and some unidentifiable fluid (perhaps the remains of his attacker’s ruined eye).

He didn’t have time to dwell on it before sparks of red and gold started spiraling in the alley and Benedict had to stand, reaching down to collect Mallory to his chest.  The blonde was used to moving dead weight around, so he almost wasn’t prepared for how very light his friend was, even nerveless and somewhat limp.  His personality was so big that it was sometimes hard to remember he was so very small.

As soon as the portal was large enough to fit them, they were through and it emptied them out right into the main lobby of the hotel.  They’d only been gone about an hour and a half, so things hadn’t died out entirely.  Most everyone was gone save for Charlie and Vaggie, as well as his parents, but it was more quiet.  Quiet was good.  It seemed to settle Mallory, as did the warmer lighting of the lobby.

Lucifer was the one to greet them, slamming the portal shut as soon as they were through.  He looked…startled to see Angel Dust.  He’d been too distracted by Alastor’s antics to notice the spider slipping out after Benny.

“What happened, Benny?” the Devil asked, shaking his hands to banish the last of the magic, “What’s wrong?”

Benedict was reduced to a soft growl and Angel stepped in, “Someone got to his friend after the show.  He musta taken a drink from someone because he’s drugged to the ninth circle.  I think some fucker was trying to grab him.  He got a little beat up before I found him.”

“Oh no…” Charlie sounded deeply distressed by the idea, wanting to rush over only to be stopped by her wife so she didn’t crowd the poor kid.

Mallory was panting softly in his brother’s arms, just trying to get the world to stop spinning so everything made sense.  He could hear voices and see people, but every time he moved his head even a little they all blurred together and that sucked .  But…there was a smell he recognized and he leaned towards it, chasing the comfort it promised.  He was aware of a pathetic whimper and he was pretty sure he was the one making the sound, but he was too far gone to care.

Lucifer’s whole universe had exploded.

It had exploded so completely that he wasn’t even registering everything that had gone wrong all at once.  All he was truly aware of was that he knew that drugged body cradled in Benedict’s arms.  It was his son .  His son was hurt.  Only after that did he register the horror of the fact that Mallory was here in the Pride Ring… here in the Hotel…and Alastor was standing right behind him.  His stomach felt heavy and his spine felt cold.  How the fuck did any of this happen?!

Then Mal made a soft noise and that was the only thing Lucifer cared about anymore, “Is he going to be okay?”

“He musta gotten a huge dose.  He’ll be confused and weak for awhile…prob’ly won’t be able to move.  It’s gonna make him real dizzy so he’s gonna vomit more than likely.  Let him.  It’ll get that shit out of his system faster.  Just turn him on his side and watch him if he does need to puke,” Angel said, by now a master of all the horrible side effects of all the nasty drugs that could be foisted on another person.

Mal stirred at the sound of Lucifer’s voice and he lolled slightly in Benedict’s arms, “...Mom?”

At first it didn’t seem to register with all the fuss about his drugging and his injuries.

Struggling slightly to be closer to the Devil, Mallory whined a little louder, “Mom!”

Then the air went out of the room.

Lucifer was immediately at Mallory’s side damning himself by responding so quickly and attentively, combing soft claws through his hair and kissing his forehead to calm him down.  He knew everyone had heard it.  He knew what was coming…but his son was hurt and by the Father he was going to be with him.

Behind him, Alastor’s quick, brutal mind was taking in everything.

He looked at the young man hanging limp in Benedict’s arms while Lucifer doted on him.  He was slim and small, yes, but lean of frame in a familiar way.  His hair was an unmistakable ruby shade, graced with a small pair of antlers.  Down below, his legs ceased to be anything resembling human just above the knee...they were deer hooves.  What Alastor could still see of those half lidded eyes were the deepest scarlet with just a touch of gold.  He was practically a copy of Alastor’s own colour and conformation.

He shared a birthday with Benedict.

He addressed Lucifer as his mother .

The rage that started to seep into Alastor was slow and cold.  It grew roots in his chest and his guts, prepared to stay for a good long while.

When he spoke, it was with a cheery, if deadly, calm, “Alright everyone! Angel, if you could fetch a bin in case Mallory needs to be sick? There’s a dear.  Benedict, set him on the couch.  Recovery position or as close to it as you can manage.  Once that’s done? Give Lucifer and I the room, please.”

The ‘please’ was a formality.

Everyone was expected to obey.

Charlie started to protest, “What?! Alastor, I - .”

But it was her father who cut her off, helping Benedict settle Mal on the couch, “Kids, give Alastor and I the room.”

Then Vaggie was pulling gently on Charlie’s arm to get her to go.  Charlie, who looked…deeply, fundamentally hurt and lost.  Lucifer tried hard not to look at her.  He tried not to focus on the suspicious, betrayed looks Benedict shot him as he (very reluctantly) left the room at his father’s behest.  Angel regarded everyone like they were loaded bombs before putting down the trash can and disappearing upstairs.  He’d lived around enough furious and unstable Overlords to know to get the hell out of dodge.

Then it was just Alastor and Lucifer…the King and his Consort and their ailing child.

The silence was long and razor-edged.  One wrong move and it would slice everyone wide open.  

Lucifer knelt with his back to his husband, fussing gently over his firstborn and trying to keep the boy's eyes focused on the room.  He let his baby grip his wrist to steady him, not fighting the hold and occasionally leaning to press their foreheads together.  There was no mistaking his motherly affection and he didn’t care to hide it from Alastor.  The most important person in the room right now was his Mallory.

Alastor’s voice was too pleasant to be anything but poison, “Dearest husband, I would appreciate it if you could clear up a little confusion for me.  You see, two rather unsavory scenarios come to mind and I’d like to know which one I am currently living through before we proceed.  One, you found our coupling so phenomenally unsatisfactory that you immediately went out and fucked another man, somehow granting you a second child of different parentage who happens to share a birthday with Benedict.  Rather like a cat!”

Lucifer gritted his teeth and stayed silent as Alastor kept talking, “Or, number two…”

Radio static dialed in his husband’s voice, the shadows boiling and the light bulbs rattling in their fixtures, “You stole from me.”

The King refused to speak, just staring hard at the couch and his battered child and trying very, very hard not to cry.

“Answer me, Lucifer,” Alastor’s voice dripped venom, “Which is it? Are you a slut or a thief ?”

“...Stop it, Alastor,” the Fallen whispered even though he knew he deserved it.

“A simpler question then,” the Radio Demon snarled, salivating with the force it took to hold back the beast inside of him, “Lucifer…who is that boy’s father?”

Turning a hard gaze onto his husband, Lucifer responded easily, “Asmodeus is his father.”

A shadowy tentacle slammed into the nearby wall, shattering the molding and ripping into the wallpaper, “Who is his father , damn you.”

“ Asmodeus ,” Lucifer spat back, turning on one knee to look up at the infuriated Sinner towering over him.

A series of light bulbs shattered and Mallory groaned in distressed confusion.

Suddenly there was a clawed hand at his chin, gripping tightly and forcing him to make eye contact with the Radio Demon, “Who is his sire , you duplicitous little snake?”

Alastor could see the furious tears gathering at the corners of Lucifer’s eyes.

He didn’t care.

“...You are,” Lucifer finally admitted, not fighting to take his face out of his husband’s grip.

“Twins.  You were pregnant with twins,” Alastor hissed softly before withdrawing his hand like he couldn’t stand the thought of touching his husband even through the gloves he wore, “All of those pictures you simpered over…all the reports you showed me…all falsehoods, I take it?”

“Doctored,” the Devil said, staring the taller man down and just so tired.

The Sinner raised a hand like he wanted to strike him before curling the claws down into his own palm and tucking his arms stiffly behind his back.  Never that.

“Were you truly so bitter over the deal that you spent nine months plotting to steal my own young from me? To sell them off to that fucking Whore of Babylon?”

“It wasn’t…I didn’t…” Lucifer tried to protest, but that’s what it had been, hadn’t it? 

A plot.

Premeditated and exacting down to the last detail.

“...I was going to tell you.  That night in the bayou…I decided I would tell you about both children after the Summit,” the Fallen finally said, eyes dull and voice weak, “But then I found out what you’d done to me and…and I got sick…and…I wanted him safe.”

“And you think I would have harmed my own young? Did you care so much for him and so little for Benedict if that was what you thought I would do?” Alastor seethed.

“I was scared of me ! I was out of my mind, Alastor! I couldn’t handle two children safely! I was protecting Mallory from me! ” Lucifer shouted right back, not caring who heard.

Let the whole Hotel know what a fuck-up he was.  He’d seen the looks on his children’s faces as they left him alone with his husband and injured son.  They already knew.

Alastor’s scarlet eyes narrowed, “You didn’t think for even a moment that I was capable of handling it, did you? You didn’t even think to speak to me of your fears.”

“How could I? How could I trust you with anything after what you did to me? It wasn’t like I could tell you, you possessive bastard! You never would have let him go if you’d known he existed!” the Devil raged back.

“I shouldn’t have had to! He’s my son! My flesh! My blood!”

“He’s happy where he is!” Lucifer objected.

“ Is he? Because as far as I can see, my son is battered, bleeding, and drugged on a couch because he was unprotected! Unprepared thanks to your lies!” Alastor’s voice was butchered static.

Without warning, his shadow surged from under the couch and actually snapped at Lucifer before curling protectively around Mal’s shivering body.

“Alastor!” 

“Get out.”

Lucifer blinked in shock, his husband’s accusations weighing heavy on his soul.

“Mom…” Mallory muttered weakly before Alastor was there, gently nosing behind one antler and trying to memorize his scent while soothing him at the same time.

The shadows circled, watching Lucifer in a way they never had before.  

Something had most assuredly been broken.

“I…” Lucifer swallowed, eyes burning, “I have to call Ozzie to come get him…”

Alastor’s ruby eyes were murderous.

“Get.  Out.” 

Lucifer’s eyes flicked to his beautiful Mallory, but the boy seemed too confused to realize what was happening.  All he knew was that someone was touching him gently…someone who smelled familiar even though he didn’t know why.  He wasn’t even calling for his mother anymore…was only half awake and trying not to be sick over the edge of the couch.  No one needed him here.  No one wanted him here…and…this was all of his fault, wasn’t it? He had done this to Mallory by not just…telling him about the dangers…by trying to keep him in the safest little cocoon…

The Devil took a step back…another…

He wanted to yell, to scream, to be near his baby, but their fighting had only distressed Mal further and the boy was calm now.  The only thing he could do as a good mother was accept retreat.

His heart breaking, Lucifer turned to flee to his quarters only to meet his second son’s glittering gold eyes in the shadow of the hallway.  He’d been lingering and listening.  He’d heard everything.  His mother held out a hand to him.

“Kiddo, I…”

Benedict stared at him unblinking, his gaze full of condemnation, “Don’t.”

“Benedict, please .  It was so complicated…”

“How could you do this to father? He loved you! You lied to me, too,” his golden-haired second born snapped, not letting him come near.

Hot shame washed over Lucifer when he realized he was still lying to everyone.  He never loved Alastor (not that he would readily admit) and he was sure Alastor never loved him…not even a little bit.  He was tongue-tied, unable to tell his child that horrible fact though.  So he bore the sharp judgment of those golden eyes and let the lies continue.

“You should leave,” Benedict said.

Lucifer swallowed thickly and, coward that he was, fled.

****** ****** ******

The rest of the night had been a mess.

By the time he’d been able to call Ozzie it turned out the rest of Mallory’s friends had gotten frantic when they couldn’t find him at the club and called the Sin immediately.  Ozzie had, of course, tried to call Mallory only to find he couldn’t reach him.  The whole story had spilled out from a horrified and incredibly contrite Fury.  All Lucifer had to do was fill in the gaps with what little breath he had left in his chest. 

He didn’t answer any questions about himself even though he was clearly distraught.  He focused on Mal and then once he knew Ozzie had been on his way, switched the phone off.  He didn’t want to speak to anyone else.

There had been a minor stand-off when Ozzie had come to retrieve his son.  Alastor had bowed up, instincts still ruling him after a night spent nursing his long-lost offspring through sickness and injury.  He’d very nearly attacked the towering Sin and the only thing that had stopped it was Mallory’s actual relief at seeing his adoptive father.  Alastor had let the child go, but the beast crawling under his skin mourned and wailed into the void that was the Radio Demon’s heart, keening for its young.

It only planted the roots of Alastor’s anger deeper…froze them colder.  He’d never felt hurt like this before and rage was the only armor he had against the unspeakable pain.  

Lucifer had spent the next two days breaking down in his quarters.  No one had come to see him.  

He made a decision once the tears were gone and his voice was hoarse from screaming.  When he was hollow and lying on his own bathroom floor, he’d decided that distance was needed.  He’d erred too badly this time…gone too far.  He needed to hide too badly.  With what little sluggish energy he’d hand, he’d willed what possessions he’d collected in the room over the years back to the palace.  It wasn’t going to be too long, he told himself.  Just a month to let everyone calm down, he promised. 

He was the father of lies.

He made an effort not to just disappear this time though, gathering up the courage to go and knock on Benedict’s door.  He called his name.  No one answered.

Blocked out by one of his children, Lucifer used the last of his courage to go to Charlie’s room.  She answered when he knocked.  He wished she hadn’t.

When she saw him, her face shuttered.  She looked…sad and disappointed, but was going to listen politely even through her hurt.

“...Hey Charlie.”

“What is it, dad?” She asked, sounding tired like she used to when he called her for any number of random bullshit tasks that they both knew were a waste of time.

He was a waste of time.

“I just…I wanted to say…”

“Dad, I don’t want to be mean, but if this is an apology I don’t really think I’m ready for it right now.  I’m not…I’m not mad at you,” she said, looking away.

“Oh, no, I…”

She clearly had a lot of big feelings because she let her mouth get away with her, “I just don’t understand.  I love you so much and I thought we were doing better.  But.. you’ve still been hiding so much from me for so long.  You hid your relationship with Alastor from me, you hid your whole pregnancy from me, and now…a brother? Dad I…I know things are scary for you, but what does it say about me that you can’t even trust me to make them less scary?”

Lucifer’s horrid, exhausted heart clenched and another layer of him was scraped away by sorrow, “Charlie, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…”

He looked at her sad face and realized it didn’t matter what excuse he gave her, it wouldn’t be enough to fix the fact that he’d hurt her.  He’d somehow managed to damage all three of his children and his husband all in one fell swoop.

So he did what he was apparently best at and opted for cowardice yet again, “...I don’t have an apology good enough for you yet, Charlie.  I just wanted to let you know that I’m…I’m gonna move out for awhile.”

The tragic acceptance on that perfect little face just grew deeper, more disappointed.

“Not too long! Don’t worry! I just think it’d be best if no one had to see my face for a little while.  Until things cool down,” He tried to paste on a smile to let her see things weren’t so bad.

But all she saw was her father pulling away again.  

Going into hiding again.

She didn’t believe he’d be back and it was obvious in her face, her words, “...Sure dad.  That sounds like a good idea.  I’ll…I’ll see you soon.”

Then her door slowly closed and that was another life he was shut out of in his own mind.

He made the slow walk back to his former quarters just to make sure he’d gotten everything and saw Alastor walking from the radio tower.  Lucifer braced himself for rage.  He braced himself for insults.  He even braced himself for violence even though Alastor had never hit him in their long companionship.  But…

The man didn’t even look at him.

Alastor just brushed past him like he didn’t exist.  Like he was a ghost.  Nothing.

Lucifer felt something in the back of his head splinter.

Maybe he was nothing.

Not a good King.

Not a good mother.

Not a good husband.

Not a good father.

Not properly Angel or Demon.

He had no equal, no partner, no other being in all of creation quite like him.

As he watched Alastor’s back retreat and eventually disappear, Lucifer felt the weight of his own alienness…his own detachment from every other living thing - even the ones he had made.

What had he ever been thinking trying to play happy family like some distraction from his own broken self? He was a monster…a creature who drove away everyone.  The weight of time crushed down on him and without another thought he willed himself back to the palace…to his empty rooms.

For once he didn’t fidget.  He didn’t turn on music.  He just sat perfectly still on the bed and closed his eyes, let the stillness and the horror of it consume his mind.

If he lost himself to that, then he wouldn’t feel this pain anymore.  He wouldn’t dwell on these new horrible memories anymore.  He could punish himself for all the wrong he'd done to everyone who ever cared about him.

So for just a little while, like the craven masochist he was, Lucifer gave himself up to his own madness with nobody to know or save him.