In his private chamber in Hell – a faultless recreation of his old penthouse in nearly every way from the Assyrian engravings on every wall to the piano and the two-story library chockfull of books – Lucifer settled on one of his Italian leather chairs with a tumbler of whiskey and took a very satisfying sip.
Ahhhh, so exquisite. It finally pays to be on a friendly basis with The Almighty, doesn't it?
Lucifer certainly thought so. Prince of Darkness though he might be, the taste of liquor down here would never have improved to the extent that it had of late without Amenadiel's blessed interference, and music (honest-to-goodness music!) would still not be heard. Instead, melodies would remain out of tune and just as shrill and jarring as ever, a torturous cacophony not only to the damned but to the demons and their king as well. Of all the recent improvements about this accursed place, that one definitely inspired endless gratitude.
Pleased with the number of souls he'd succeeded in guiding heavenward over the last five and a half Earth years, Lucifer nevertheless allowed himself a moment of sadness. Like he did every day around this time, he took another sip of whiskey then switched the glass to his left hand. It was an ingrained habit now to do this, and a slice of comfort even, to flex his bare right hand then stare at it while he rubbed his thumb along the underside of the empty middle finger.
The onyx ring he used to wear on that finger was gone, of course, because Chloe had it.
Chloe Jane Decker.
His precious detective and the mother of his only child, both so easily within reach for a celestial like him yet also so far out of touch due to a vow he'd made long ago under pressure.
Not for the first time, or even the millionth, Lucifer pondered the consequences of breaking that vow … but then out of nowhere he heard it, a sound he never expected to hear in Satan's realm.
A child's giggle, high and happy, a laugh of utter and complete triumph.
Lucifer was on his feet in a second and striding for his elevator doors. Before he could reach them, they opened and out sprung a gap-toothed little boy with dark curly hair and milk chocolate skin dressed in a pair of long-sleeve soft knit cotton pajamas. The smiling youngster, whose sneaker laces were about five steps away from being untied for good, flung himself straight at the Lord of Hell, clinging to his legs in the same fearless manner a certain female step-cousin used to do ages ago.
"Hi, Uncle Luci!" Charlie beamed upwards and tightened his hold, waiting to be acknowledged. When shocked silence was his only answer, Charlie cocked his head and began to pout with disappointment. "Don't you recognize me?"
Lucifer certainly did. Some thirty million years after his return to the Underworld – the equivalent of not even a full orbit around the sun on Earth – Amenadiel had gifted him with a photograph album compiled by Linda that was filled cover to cover with pictorial updates of their human friends and family. In time, another album had followed and then another. In Lucifer's safe, there were now eight precious albums stored within and the six-year-old half-angel in front of him was in every single one, several with his mini wings extended. Abruptly, Lucifer quit gaping at his nephew and picked him up in his arms to ask the one question foremost in his mind.
"Charles Richard Martin, what the me are you doing down here?!"
"Just visiting." Charlie said simply. He gave his still-astonished uncle a proper squeeze around the neck followed by a resounding kiss on the cheek then leaned back a little and studied him openly like all young children tend to do with long-lost relatives. "I wanted to make sure you were real."
"Of course, I'm real!" Lucifer exclaimed, highly insulted. "Why wouldn't I be? Don't your parents ever talk about me?"
"Yeah, sometimes," Charlie admitted, "but it's not the same. I only ever really see you in my dreams or in that picture frame in Aunt Chloe's house and that's just not the same as you visiting Daddy and Mommy and me like you used to." Charlie frowned at that, considering, then gave one of the blue dinosaur graphics on his chest an absent scratch. "How come you stopped visiting us?"
Lucifer's brow began to knit deeper. He did not care at all for where this conversation seemed to be headed. "Well, I'm sorry, but … I can't quite visit at the moment."
"Why not?"
"Because … because I just can't." Lucifer set Charlie down quickly and marched back to his whiskey to retrieve it. After a soothing swallow, he stepped toward his kitchen to fetch another drink then stopped at the realization that his nephew was still frowning at him, wholly unsatisfied with his last answer. With a sigh, Lucifer went over to him and ran a hand over his curls to comfort him, trying not to focus on the multitude of moments he'd already missed with the child in front of him, not to mention the daughter still at home with Chloe. "Charlie, I'm sorry," he said gently. He dropped to one knee so they could see each other properly eye-to-eye. "Your uncle Lucifer will visit you on Earth again some day when he can, I assure you. You'll be all grown up at that point, but no matter since you'll be well over twenty-one, which means we can—"
Charlie was no longer interested. "Make that face for me, Uncle Luci."
Taken aback, Lucifer paused mid-sentence. "What face?"
"You know," Charlie insisted. All at once he began to giggle and bounce on his toes in anticipation. "That face I like. Show me!"
Lucifer almost couldn't believe it. In fact, if Charlie had been born fully human, he would not have believed that a child so young could remember an event that took place when he was barely seven months of age … but of course Charlie was not fully human. The birth of his wings proved he was at least half-celestial in every way, which meant his memory was limitless. Very likely, the little imp could even recollect his time in Linda's womb, possibly even the very moment of his conception.
As Charlie kept pushing his uncle to make the "funny face", Lucifer forced himself to summon the old rage he rarely had cause to feel anymore then growled as well for good measure. Charlie was delighted. The child actually threw back his head and laughed all over again like he had the first time around, causing his uncle to lose said devil face and grin wider than he had himself in ages. Charlie begged for it again and again and Lucifer obliged him every time until finally he called a halt to the fun in favor of a stiff drink. As he downed one glass then poured another and began to sip it more leisurely, he watched in amusement as Charlie began to scout the penthouse quite methodically. Not a closet nor cupboard door was left unopened and unexplored by the time Charlie was done; the boy swung every curtain aside and even flattened himself prone on the floor to check under the furniture. Finally, Lucifer had to ask.
"What are you looking for, child?"
"Toys," Charlie said promptly. He climbed to his feet, hurried over to Lucifer and peered up at him. "Don't you have any down here, Uncle Luci?"
Lucifer let out a most ungracious snort. "I most certainly do not. At least not the kind you're used to playing with, my unsullied little nephew."
"Not even a scooter?" Charlie whined, now tugging impatiently on his jacket.
"Not even that and I'd appreciate it if you would stop what you are doing and unhand my clothes. I don't like for them to be wrinkled."
"But I really need a scooter, Uncle Luci, so I can go for a walk!" Charlie begged still tugging. "I don't like using my wings down here and if I don't have a scooter, it'll take me forever to get anywhere in your hallways!" Charlie yanked on Lucifer's waistcoat next, frustrated at being ignored. "Uncle Luci, are you listening to me?"
"Not really." Increasingly unsettled by what Charlie had just let slip about his plans to wander and investigate the corridors of Hell on his own, Lucifer froze a moment then whirled to face the elevator.
Where was Amenadiel?
Why hadn't he come through the doors yet?
Without warning, Lucifer plucked Charlie off the floor and settled him on the marble countertop with over a hundred bottles of whiskey on display behind his little head.
"How did you get here? Child, where is your father?"
Charlie's brown eyes widened guiltily in the face of his uncle's alarm. Well aware that his secret adventure had probably just come to an end, he squeezed his small hands in his lap and kept quiet until Lucifer repeated his question in a tone that was considerably sharper. All at once, the first-grader didn't have the nerve to disobey his uncle's order to speak up.
"Daddy's not … um … he's not with me," Charlie whispered.
"Where is he?"
"H-Heaven, I think."
"HEAVEN?!" Lucifer shouted. His pulse began to race at the realization that his half-human nephew – a cherub barely four years out of nappies who still sometimes sucked his thumb in his sleep – had just travelled to the domicile of demons without a chaperone. Certainly, Squee, Belios and most of the Lilim towed the line nowadays, but Dromos and some of the others still required a firm hand, especially now that rehabilitation rather than torture was the new goal in Hell. What might they have done to Charlie 'for fun' if they had discovered him here first? Truly, Lucifer shuddered to think, and his voice rose to alarming heights as he towered over his nephew. "Do you mean to tell me you flew down here alone?!"
"So?" Charlie said, summoning in his tiny chest the courage that would one day turn him into a warrior almost as ferocious as his father. He jumped down from the counter, ran to the fireplace to put a good distance between himself and a certain angry uncle then balled his fists and stomped one foot in temper. "I'm allowed!"
"I doubt that very much, you little scamp." Fierce pride dawned for the very briefest of seconds as Lucifer witnessed his own rebellious nature reflected in his nephew, but he quashed those feelings just as quickly. They weren't convenient right now. Annoyed beyond measure that Hell was so easy to find for celestials – even half-celestials who were missing their top front teeth and could barely tie their own shoes – Lucifer crooked a finger at Charlie then pointed at the spot in front of him quite sternly. "Come here, young man."
The willful little tyke backed up further. "I can fly wherever I want to!" Charlie insisted stubbornly. "Whoever has wings can fly all the time! That's the rule and my grandpa would tell you so if he was here!"
"That isn't the least bit true for someone your age," Lucifer retorted, "and when my big brother discovers you've taken advantage of his absence and his many distractions as God to abscond from your mother's house, I dare say you'll be in for the smacking of your young life. And speaking of your mother, she doesn't have a clue where you are either, does she?"
She didn't. Linda Martin had no idea whatsoever that her baby boy had been thinking all week about the most infamous of his uncles, edging closer and closer to staging a surprise visit. If she'd even once suspected what her youngest child was concocting, there was no doubt at all in Lucifer's mind that she would have insisted Amenadiel take him up to Heaven for an extended and well-supervised vacation.
Charlie's thoughts weren't far off from Lucifer's. He'd been scolded many times over the last two years by both his parents after getting caught using his wings to go places he wasn't allowed, and the last time Daddy had said enough was enough then spanked him good to make the lesson stick. Mommy had even given him permission to do it. She hadn't wanted to, the tears in her eyes said so, but she'd still told Daddy to go ahead, if he was absolutely sure there was no other way to stop the disobedience once and for all.
The pain of that spanking came back to Charlie in a rush now that he was faced with the prospect of a second one. Before Lucifer could prepare himself, Charlie burst into tears right where he stood.
"P-Please don't tell Mommy and Daddy on me, Uncle L-Luci!"
At the depth of Charlie's distress, Lucifer's heart clenched. He had never felt so contemptible. He strode over to his sobbing nephew immediately and picked him up without hesitation.
"I shan't tell a soul," he vowed, consoling Charlie as best he could with an Ella-type hug. "We'll make a deal, you and I, a deal we must never break as celestials. So long as you don't ever, ever, ever come down here again on your own, I shall inform no one of your little jaunt. Your parents might still find out, but it won't be from me. Agreed?" As Charlie held on tighter and blubbered a thank you, Lucifer was grateful he hadn't removed his jacket after work like he normally did. "Here," he said, easing Charlie gently onto one arm then handing him his pocket square. It wasn't a full handkerchief, but it would just have to do. "Use this to mop your face if you don't mind. No need to leak all over one of your uncle's favorite suits."
Charlie did his best. Lucifer soon helped then fed him a glass of water to calm him further, letting him know in between sips that he was proud of his daring, even if a solo excursion to Hell was supremely dangerous and terribly ill-advised in one so young. Vile demons could have hurt him before he was rescued, did Charlie want that? Did he understand now why he must never do it again? That he must not travel anywhere at all ever again without his parents' blessing until he was much, much older and knew how to defend himself from the worst of the very worst? The six-year-old nodded tearfully and said he did, he really, really did this time. To that statement, Lucifer sobered further then allowed his eyes alone to shine their most fearsome shade of red yet with hellfire flashing in the center. He wasn't playing around this time, and he trusted his nephew to tell the difference.
Charlie could. He whimpered then hid his face in his uncle's shoulder, which Lucifer took as a sign that he'd reprimanded the little boy enough. He coaxed Charlie to look at him again so he could see his uncle's smile and note that his eyes were brown again and no longer angry. Charlie managed a tiny smile in return and that was enough for Lucifer. He kissed Charlie's damp cheek, gave him an enormous hug then carried him without another word toward the elevator.
It was high time a certain little boy was escorted home…
XxXxXxXx
After returning Charlie to his room safe and sound – even sticking by the child's bedside until the little scamp was fully asleep – Lucifer lingered now in the shadows of a netleaf hackberry tree on Linda's front lawn while crickets chirped all around, staring in the direction of Chloe's apartment.
Through no fault of his own, he was back on Earth for the first time in millennia.
He'd kept his word to the future version of his daughter for five and a half Earth years. Surely that was enough?
Would it really be so wrong, if all he did now was pass by her mother's house? Maybe peek in a window or two?
It was late for a youngster, closing on ten-thirty at night, and Rory was only four years old. There was no way she would see or hear him. Like her cousin fifty feet away, she would be fast asleep.
Then again, her elder half-sister might not.
On the verge of stepping out into the open then taking flight for Chloe's anyway, willing to risk it just this once, Lucifer suddenly found himself held in place by a very familiar hand.
"Don't do it, Luci," Amenadiel advised, materializing in front of him like their dad used to before he'd retired from The Throne. "You promised you wouldn't, and you will end up breaking your vow to Rory if you fly over there and spy on them tonight. You know it and I know it, because you won't be satisfied with just watching your daughter sleep and you won't be able to stand not making your presence known to Chloe the moment you see her again."
"Amenadiel—"
"Well? Am I wrong?"
Lucifer opened his mouth to say he was wrong, damn it, but then shut it and heaved a frustrated sigh at his inability to lie. "Fine, Brother. I won't go. Bloody hell, are you happy now?"
Amenadiel nodded his approval then squeezed the side of Lucifer's neck in consolation. Lucifer allowed the comfort for a few seconds then eased away and stepped back with a scowl. As God, Amenadiel knew precisely what Lucifer was thinking next but acted as though he didn't out of respect for his brother's privacy.
"What?" he asked.
Lucifer stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his trousers, his gaze somewhat accusatory. "I still have some blank spots in the last album you brought me from Linda, you know."
Amenadiel smiled. "They won't remain blank for long, Luci. I'll bring you new photographs for it during my next visit."
"A dozen at least."
"Only twelve this time? I'm surprised."
"Is that even possible anymore? You being surprised?" When Amenadiel only chuckled, Lucifer shook his head then clarified his position despite knowing he didn't need to anymore, not with this particular sibling. "Just so we're clear, Brother, I expect twelve of each. Twelve of Chloe; twelve of Rory. More will be appreciated. Less will not and I expect you to include plenty of Charlotte's namesake as well. And don't forget Trixie either; you skimped on her last time."
"Understood," Amenadiel said. He clapped Lucifer on the shoulder in farewell and turned toward the house so he could have a quick word with Linda, but then stopped and faced his younger sibling once again. "Before you go, I want to thank for bringing Charlie back as fast as you did."
Lucifer shrugged. "Frankly, Brother, I'm astonished you didn't. What had you so distracted in Heaven? Were you having another fatherly chat with Caleb? Maybe hanging out with Dan and Charlotte for a bit?"
Amenadiel snorted. "Actually, I was undoing another one of Lezmegadiel's messes. I know he wants to help like all of our other siblings do, but I swear if he would just …" Amenadiel voice trailed off. "Never mind. Anyway, I would hate to think of the panic Linda would have felt if she'd checked on our son a few minutes ago and found him gone. It would appear that I need to have another serious talk with him."
The expression on Amenadiel's face hardened as he spoke, and this time Lucifer was the one well able to read his brother's mind. He stepped in Amenadiel's path, placed both hands on the dark man's shoulders then stared into his eyes earnestly. "If you really want to thank me, Brother, don't punish my nephew for sneaking off."
Amenadiel stiffened. "I have to, Luci. He's barely six. He's far too young to take flight on his own and I've told him that repeatedly. Hell is hardly the place for him to go even if his uncle would never allow harm to come to him. Above all, my son needs to learn that his wings aren't a licence to just—"
"And he will, Brother," Lucifer interrupted gently. "He will learn all of that without you taking him over your knees. I'm asking you to have faith in him like our father did not in us – at least not when we were that age." Amenadiel faltered, loath to admit aloud that he did currently lack faith in his underage son in this regard, so Lucifer upped his powers of persuasion a little more. "Look, I spoke to Charlie very firmly on your behalf, so I'm quite certain he will not sneak off again." At least for another year or two, the little rebel.
Amenadiel's eyes narrowed. "I caught that, Lucifer."
"Er, sorry." Lucifer blushed at having his thoughts read then grinned just as quickly. "So, will you do The Devil this one favor? Pretty please with Xanax and Molly on top?"
"Xanax and Molly?!"
Lucifer shrugged. "Cherries and sugar don't do it for me."
Amenadiel started to refuse but then acquiesced easily enough since he knew exactly how to prevent his young son from using his wings in future when he shouldn't. One of the many benefits of becoming God, he supposed.
"All right, Luci. I will refrain from punishing Charlie this one ti—"
"Excellent! See, Amenagod? That wasn't so hard!"
Before Amenadiel could respond, Lucifer stepped back with a wink then released his wings and left. Amenadiel watched him depart for Hell with a sorry shake of his head then vanished from sight as well to attend to a new problem in Heaven.
Lezmegadiel and his dreadful aim was at it again…