He didn't say goodbye, he didn't pin a note to the fridge, all that was left behind was a feather.
And War knew it was his - he would always recognise one of Lucifer's.
But there was something wrong about this; because there was an emptiness inside him that he hadn't felt since Lucifer was thrown into his cage. It sent a chill down his spine. This wasn't just a stray casting, this was a sign… a sign that he was gone - and not just to get milk.
Taking the feather in both his hands as though it were the most delicate thing in the world, he moved slowly to the couch, just staring at it as if it held all of the answers. But it didn't, it was just a simple message: a feather on a night-stand. It was a memento. It was nothing.
Something moved next to him, and War managed to tear his gaze from the quill long enough to notice the unnamed Hellhound pup Crowley had given him yawning and stretching, crimson eyes staring up. He wasn't growling at him anymore at least. He didn't ever think training a hellhound would be easy, and it wasn't - but after training a War-Horse… this was a piece of cake. Which he could really go for right now.
He used a free hand to scoop the bundle of black fur into his lap, and tickled it with the feather a little. The little thing certainly had calmed down quite a lot since he'd gotten it. And it had already destroyed most of the furniture in Roger's house, but now more than ever he liked having something to fill his time.
Now more than ever, why was that?
Because Lucifer had left him.
And the idea settled in. And he froze. Had he gone back to Michael? He wouldn't blame him… but no, Lulu had told him that he wouldn't. Of course, he had also promised him even more more times than he could count that he wouldn't ever leave him again.
War swallowed hard. Had he really been stupid enough to believe that they could work together? He had spent all of these years wondering what it would be like to be with Lucifer, just Lucifer, and after all of this deliberation over whether he'd suddenly be able to quit his ways and just be in a monogamous relationship; after giving Lulu everything and entering into this committed relationship; after taking all of the hate from Michael and Aravan… Lucifer had left him. And he was empty inside. A huge, thudding, black hole. The emptiness and pain that came from the distance between him and the other half of the Blood Tie. He wanted to cry out, and scream, he wanted to destroy something - cities, countries, the world. He wanted to wipe something out of existence.
But he didn't.
He sat there, frozen on his couch, with a feather in one hand and a hellhound in the other, just staring at the door like Lucifer would come back with a smile on his face, and a joke on his lips, mocking War for how stupid he was being. How it was all a mistake.
But he didn't come.
No one did.
Light turned to darkness, and still he hadn't moved, and the house was empty as ever.
The pup snoozed on his lap still, and the feather had some iridescent glow in his hand. And he threw it suddenly, annoyed that it merely floated gracefully to the floor, with all of the elegance Lucifer possessed. The sudden movement caused the pup to stir, red eyes glowing like lamplights in the dark house. It stared up at him knowingly for a few moments before it snuggled in closer to him.
War regarded it curiously - that should have been entirely out of character for anything that came from hell; empathy. But maybe being so young, it understood that just like it had been ripped from it's mother, he had been ripped from his lover. And so heavy was his grief, that just for now, and just for tonight it would stay by his side and they could lick eachothers wounds.
"I guess we have a name for you finally," he said, his voice choked and crackling, "Truce."