Lucifer woke up feeling like utter shit. Thanks to Raphael's stupid treatments he had spent God knows how long sleeping. It felt like it had been days. His healing factor was in overdrive trying to regrow all the limbs and appendages he was missing. He remembered seeing Charlie once or twice. She had been stopping by a lot to check in on him, but their interactions were a little hazy. Lucifer rolled over to see food sitting by his bedside. There was always food when he woke up. He reached out with his only remaining hand, grabbing at the plate and pulling it toward him.
It was still warm. That was kind of nice.
He needed to eat. He needed energy. Eating and sleeping were the best things he could do until he was back to normal. And he needed to get back into his peak physique as quickly as possible as who knew what was going to happen to Hell next. Would it be Michael with his army of Exorcists? Or would fucking Cthulhu himself hop right out of R'lyeh and just start dragging Sinners down with him? At this point, Lucifer wasn't sure which one he would rather face. At least Cthulhu hadn't pretended to care about him for years only to turn around and publicly rip his wings off. Sure, Cthulhu had murdered thousands of Seraphim in the past, but-
... no.
Michael was the lesser of two evils. But Lucifer was too proud to ever admit it anywhere other than his internal monologue.
He grabbed the glass from the table, wincing with the effort. The soft glisten of the water made him hesitate. The holy water was a necessary evil, but that didn't mean that swallowing it became any less unpleasant. It was easier to stomach when Raphael was around, the Angel of Healing had a way of making pain more bearable. Lucifer should have let him stay, and a part of him knew it. But Raphael was loyal to Michael. He too had tossed Lucifer from his home in Heaven and watched with a cold gaze as he suffered in agony on his way down. His pride was always his downfall.
He looked at the cup in silence, willing himself to drink. He tossed his head back and started gulping down the water. The Holy Water was far more potent than Rochele's; Lucifer felt as if he were burning from the inside out but he kept drinking. Raph was probably getting a kick out of this shit from his little hospital up in Heaven. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. They just waltz into his domain like they fucking own the place and start undermining him in front of his own daughter. It was utterly fucking humiliating. But the Archangels were always good at cutting people down.
Lucifer finished the glass and threw it as far away from him as he could. It smashed against the opposing wall, shattering to pieces. Lucifer fell backward onto his bed, his chest was heaving. It felt nice to throw something, release some of the anger that was swelling up inside him. Of course there was the matter of the broken glass, still tainted with holy poison, but he could clean it up with magic once he was back to normal. For now, all he could really do was wait for his natural healing to regrow what the Shoggoth took and plan what to do next. He would need to talk with Charlie, explain to her that his siblings were about as charming as an Elder God. Then maybe he would explain what an Elder God was. He had been hoping to avoid this conversation. She had so much on her mind with Heaven and Redemption, the last thing he wanted to do was pile on more misery to the only beautiful soul in Hell.
Lucifer expected to fall back asleep, but his mind was racing and his body hurt as it tried to recreate what was lost. The feeling of bone and skin stretching and growing was like hot needles being prodded into already bruised and torn flesh. He turned his head as he heard something moving in his bathroom. Best case scenario, it was his daughter here for another visit. Worst case: Michael was here to put a sword through his face and point out every flaw he has ever had. Either way, Lucifer was resigned to see it through.
There was a crash from the bathroom followed by a very annoyed: "Son of a bitch!" Ah. So, it was Adam. That was definitely not preferred but it was far from the worst-case scenario. Lucifer watched as Adam stumbled into the bedroom, nearly tripping over some of the bottles of holy water that Raphael had left carelessly on Lucifer's floor. (Not that it was clean when the Archangels had arrived. Fuck. They had seen his bedroom looking like a total, goddamn mess. There were clothes strewn about, trash building up, ducks lying around in all the most inconvenient places. The Arcs were definitely going to be whispering judgmentally about that behind his back.)
"There's broken glass over there if you're not careful." Lucifer moved his good hand in the direction of the shattered cup. Adam jumped backward at the sound of his voice.
"You're awake."
"And you're not dead. Looks like we all learned something new today." Lucifer didn't think they had killed Adam as he still had Adam's chain in his hand. But it wasn't as if Angel's hadn't slaughtered human souls before, and with Adam being Corrupted, who knows if Michael would have seen the logic in keeping the First Man alive. (Lucifer barely saw the point some days after dealing with Adam's shitty-ass personality.)
"Did anyone die?"
"No." Lucifer was a bit surprised by the question, as he doubted Adam actually cared. But it was most likely more for curiosity than anything else. They were incredibly lucky that there were no casualties. Next time they may not be quite so... fortunate. Adam started picking up Lucifer's tray of finished food. "So where have you been hiding?"
"I wasn't hiding. I literally have been bringing you food when Charlie isn't here. You've just been passed the fuck out."
"So, Charlie has been by." Lucifer was starting to think he dreamed that.
"Yeah. It's a pain in the fucking ass to get her to your room because the like whole goddamn hallway and the doorknob got fucking blessed and now if we touch it, it burns. Luckily for me, I don't need to use the floor. I'm too awesome for that shit."
"That is going to be such a fucking pain in the ass to reverse. It's just like those assholes to trash my house in the most angelic way possible. Like come the fuck on, try and have some self-awareness. But that's too much of a goddamn ask for Michael, apparently."
"It's pretty annoying. Syn can still get around okay but like, we have to get Lysander to his room through the window. And if you're curious, you can throw someone across the blessed part of the hallway, but if you miss it hurts like a bitch." Adam went to the corner and started trying to finagle the bits of glass onto the tray.
"Did Lysander throw you across the hallway?" Lucifer snorted at the image of Adam being tossed like a fucking javelin over the sacred ground and landing on his face only to burst into flames because he missed.
"We take turns."
"Maybe don't dick around with that. I don't know if it would kill you permanently and we still need you to tell us how the fuck you got Corrupted in the first place."
"I told you; I don't remember." Adam's response was oddly straightforward. Lucifer expected a bit more snark.
"You will. We just have to purge more of that Corruption. Did you get bitten or anything by the Shoggoth? I'll be honest, I lost track of you in that fight after you threw me into a fucking wall." The Devil snorted at the memory. Adam had completely lost his shit in the presence of the Shoggoth, which wasn't all that surprising. But at the same time, Adam tossing him into that fucking wall had actually spared him from ending up directly on top of the second Shoggoth. The irony of it wasn't lost on the Devil.
"I don't remember." Again, Adam just gave him a flat response.
"You don't remember the fight?"
"Listen asshole," Adam finally turned to face him. "One second I am telling you I hear something, and the next thing I know I'm being fucking manhandled by goddamn Michael. He literally had me by the collar and I swear I thought he was going to fucking cut me in half."
"Michael found you?" Lucifer struggled to sit up, inhaling sharply at the rush of pain. "What did he do-"
"Don't fucking do that." Adam gave up on trying to clean the mess in the corner. He braced a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, pushing him back down. "All he did was say: 'Oh you're still sentient' which, by the way, is a very fucking unsettling sentence. Then he just put me down and told me to stay put and fucking vanished. I thought I was literally about to fucking die."
"Well, I kicked his ass out." Lucifer didn't want to elaborate on what exactly Michael meant by his words to Adam because panic wasn't going to help anyone in this situation. "So, you're welcome." Lucifer looked at Adam's hand that was still on his shoulder. It was the pale hand, but the Devil could see flecks of black on his fingers and the side and top of his hand. They were very faint, but they looked like... burns? Adam seemed to notice where he was looking and pulled his hand away quickly.
"The holy water splashes sometimes when I try to pour it." Adam quickly walked back to the shards of glass. "Which by the way, if you could not fling that shit across the fucking room and splash it, that'd be great."
"I'm surprised your cleaning it up." Lucifer hadn't anticipated Adam doing anything other than taking this opportunity to fuck around and do whatever it was that he did in his downtime.
"If any more of this house gets blessed, it'll be uninhabitable."
"Yeah, but aren't you gonna-" Lucifer started to speak, but Adam suddenly ran to the bathroom. "There it is." He was almost amused by the timing. "Make sure you use a trash bag so I can burn it!" The sounds of Adam vomiting could be heard from the next room. Good to know he was still on the path to recovery. Lucifer leaned up on his good arm as Adam came back in, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Feel better?"
"No." Adam went back to trying to clean up the broken glass. Lucifer felt a little bad about throwing it, as it seemed like Adam was actually making some kind of effort to clean. "I feel like shit, actually."
"Makes sense."
"No. You don't get it. I should be happy right now. That dinner was a fucking disaster, just like I said it would be. You got your ass handed to you and now you're miserable and suffering. You- the angel who fucked me over- has been given a taste of his own medicine." Adam gave up trying to clean the glass and just grabbed what he could and stood up. "You're literally pathetic. So why do I still feel like shit?"
"I'd say: empathy but that seems like a lot of emotional intelligence for you." Lucifer was annoyed by Adam's words. Not so much about him being unable to celebrate in Lucifer's humiliation, but rather the part where Adam called him pathetic and miserable. True or not, Lucifer's ego couldn't let it go.
"Exactly. You're an asshole who literally fucked my whole life over." Adam didn't sound mad so much as he did frustrated. "I should be relishing in this right now."
"Except that if I die, "you're royally fucked." Lucifer assumed Adam's lack of joy came from the realization that his life was still in the Devil's hands. "I am the only being in Heaven or Hell that has taken pity on you, and in some sense, I think you know that."
"Annnnnd... You still owe me a golden guitar."
"Excuse me?"
"You said you would give me the golden guitar if I was right about the dinner being a fucking disaster. And, well, I don't think I could have been more right about this shit show."
"That wasn't an actual bet, you know that right?"
"It would have been if you had won." Adam retorted quickly. Lucifer paused for a moment, letting the words sink in, before he started to laugh. The bickering actually felt nice. After everything he had been through as of late, any sense of normalcy felt... relieving.
"You might have a point."
"Of course I do. You hate losing." Adam looked surprised by his reaction.
"That I do. Thankfully, it never happens."
"It happens all the fucking time. Are you stupid or just fucking delusional?" It was Adam's turn to laugh.
"Neither. I'm right."
"You're right up your own ass is what you are."
"Talk all you want, jackass, once I am back to full power, you'll have to go back to watching your tongue."
"I never did that."
"But you will." Lucifer assured him. "You'll have no choice. You know, since I own your soul."
"Don't remind me." Adam's face contorted into a disgusted expression.
"But I love reminding you."
"Why the fuck am I bringing you food and shit again?" Adam looked at the tray in his hands. "Cause I feel like I should dump this all on your ugly fucking head."
"Do it and I'll smite you." Lucifer pulled the covers up toward his face to act like some sort of protection.
"I would like to see you try." Adam started back toward the bathroom. "Was there anything in particular you wanted for Lunch? I figured since you're actually conscious this time; I could ask so I can ignore your request and finish making the stew I was already halfway through making when I got pulled into this goddamn hostage situation of a conversation."
"I want a cake." Lucifer was mostly kidding. He knew Adam wasn't actually taking requests. (Though he did genuinely love sweets.) "Oh, and Adam?" He stopped the First Man as soon as he was halfway to the bathroom mirror.
"What?"
"Thank you."
"What?" Adam nearly dropped the tray from his hands, practically tripping over the threshold to the bathroom. "For what exactly?"
"For not poisoning me, I guess." Lucifer was struck with instant regret. "Look, don't make it fucking weird."
"You're welcome?" Adam glanced back at him for a moment before straightening his posture. "I mean, I'm literally giving you holy water. So, in a way, I am kinda poisoning you. I am just following the instructions Raphael left in order to do so." Lucifer snorted.
"He would leave fucking instructions." That asshole couldn't leave anything be. Lucifer couldn't admit it, but he was kind of glad Raphael had done so. He did need to get better, and as much as he hated the Archangels for what they did when he Fell, there was no denying that Raphael was his best bet for a full recovery. (He had always been the most tolerable of the Big Four.)
"They might be a bit too difficult for you to understand, but don't worry, I'll explain everything." Adam had a bit of a haughty tone as he stepped fully into the bathroom. "For now, you just keep your ass in the bed. That shouldn't be difficult for you. It's not like you cared about your work before now, so why start?"
"Hey asshole!" Lucifer called after him.
"God fucking damnit, now what?" Adam leaned backward so that his head was poking back into Lucifer's room. The Devil smirked at the absurdity of the image.
"Get fucked."
"Eat shit." It almost looked as if Adam were grinning as his head popped back into the bathroom. Lucifer heard the sounds of Adam shuffling around, before the room was quiet once again. It was funny (or maybe it was sad) but the Devil almost missed him. Almost. The peace and quiet was far superior to the constant stream of bullshit that seemed to spew endlessly from Adam's lips.
Lucifer relaxed again; things hadn't been going great for him, that much was obvious. But maybe with a bit of rest and relaxation, he could finally get healed up from that whole fiasco at the dinner. Then he could deal with all this Corruption bullshit that was being dropped on him. It wasn't his first time seeing it, after all. He had allowed himself to be complacent in the way things were, perhaps that had made him lazy. This time, once he got better, things would be different.
He started to drift to sleep again, when there was a knock at the door.
"Master! You have a visitor." That was right. Syn could still move around freely, but alas, had no arms to open the door herself. First thing was first: Lucifer would solve the Corruption crisis upon his recovery. But then, his next task would be to make Syn some fucking arms.
"Who is it?" He felt if it were Charlie, Syn wouldn't have bothered asking. There was no answer. Lucifer struggled to sit up again, wincing at the attempt. So much for relaxing. "Syn, who is it?"
"It's Syriel." There was a gentle, masculine voice from the other side of the door. Lucifer sighed. Another fucking angel. But at least this one was somewhat tolerable. "I brought you a get well soon card."
"Come in." Lucifer struggled to make himself look presentable, but it would probably be wasted on Syriel. Angels weren't much for image. The door opened and Lucifer saw a face he hadn't seen in some time. Syriel was tall, with pale green hair and eyes, ashen skin. He wore a mask over his mouth and nose, goggles covered his overly large eyes. He had a halo, unique in its shape as it made a symbol in the center often associated with hazardous material. This was not an ordinary angel, like Lucifer, Syriel served a purpose that people on Earth hated. He was Pestilence, the harbinger of Plague, Horseman of the Apocalypse. The fact that he still had his six dingy, gray wings was a wonder. Lucifer honestly assumed Heaven would have taken them long ago. But apparently Syriel got a pass for making people miserable because: that was his job but when it was Lucifer causing trouble, all of the sudden it was: forbidden. The angel handed Lucifer a rather elegant little card wishing him well.
"It's good to see you, though, I wish the circumstances were better."
"I'll be fine in no time, it's barely noticeable, honestly." Lucifer gave a nonchalant shrug as he read over the card. An eye opened in the center of Syriel's halo, and slowly glanced down at the obviously missing leg beneath the covers. The eyes on Syriel's face were doing a far better job of maintaining polite eye contact.
"Indeed, barely noticeable."
"I can see where you're looking." Lucifer glared up at him. The eye in his halo shut quickly and he cleared his throat.
"It is nothing from which you cannot recover, I'm sure." Syriel was a younger angel than Lucifer, but that wasn't saying much. Lucifer was the oldest of them all, the First. Syriel had been made sometime after Michael. He was one of Lucifer's Seraphim, back before the Fall. Lucifer knew him well, and as far as angels went, he was one of the few the Devil could still stand.
"Yeah, I'll pretty much walk it off. Raphael isn't even worried." Lucifer wasn't really sure why he was lying to Syriel of all angels. But at this point, it felt almost compulsory to protect his ego.
"Well, that is good to hear then."
"Still, you know that aside from my daughter, you're the only get-well card I've gotten? So, thank you."
"I have some flowers too, but I cannot touch them for obvious reasons. So, I'm having them delivered."
"I knew there was a reason I liked you." Flowers would be a welcome change of pace. No one ever brought him fucking flowers.
"And I brought you something too." The door flew open and there was a loud buzzing, as a swarm of insects flew into the room. The bugs slowly merged together until they formed the image of a Fallen Angel, the slick black hair looked almost like a hardened shell, save for the two strands that stuck up like antennae. He had a wide, severed looking mouth that bisected his face in a smile that felt annoyingly reminiscent of that radio fucker. The Fallen was well dressed, the suit tails flicked like wings before settling down on his back. His multiple, large, bulbous golden eyes had their own glow. He wore sunglasses that covered two of them. He was the tallest in the room, a towering, looming figure of thin frame and large ego. Lucifer knew him as Balaam, the Horseman of Famine, and one of the less tolerable people on the team. (Terrifyingly enough: Balaam could be even worse when he was in a shitty mood.) He reached over and handed Lucifer a worn down, cheap, obviously used VoxTek phone. "For you, since you obviously don't have one that works. You're welcome."
"How the fuck did you even get in? The floor was fucking blessed." Lucifer tossed the phone to the side, ignoring Balaam's snide attitude. Unlike Syriel, Balaam was Infernal in nature. He shouldn't be able to cross hallowed ground.
"I had to fly over it. The doorknob was the worst part." Balaam didn't seem all that concerned with the Devil's obvious annoyance. "It's easier to get around it as a swarm, but that must be a real pain in the ass for your staff."
"They'll make due. It'll wear off eventually." Lucifer didn't feel like explaining that his staff consisted of a single Hellborn, a flying metal tube with lights, a duck, and a Fallen that wanted him dead.
"I mean I can technically cross hallowed ground, but I have to actively be on my horse to do it-" Balaam smirked. Lucifer narrowed his eyes.
"Don't bring a horse inside my fucking house. Please."
"If you need help fixing this, you know I can try. I'm just not sure I'm strong enough to alter the blessings of an Archangel, but I could certainly make an attempt." Syriel offered politely. It was nice that at least someone was trying to be helpful.
"If you can: great. If you can't: we're no worse off than we were." Lucifer doubted that Syriel could undo all the trouble that Michael and his merry band of fuckwits had caused, but it was worth a try.
"I would say I'm surprised that you don't have more get-well-soon gifts, or at least any murder attempts while you're weak. But it appears as if this whole little incident didn't get a lot of publicity." Balaam took a seat in one of the few chairs in Lucifer's room that wasn't covered with other things. "Which is truly shocking given that I heard Vox was actively there. You'd think this would be on every screen in Hell."
"I don't think he wanted everyone to see him get crushed by a fucking wall." Lucifer kept his expression flat. The thing with Hellions was that they would try and weasel under his skin, get a reaction. He wasn't going to give Balaam the satisfaction. He knew how Famine worked. There was also, of course, the matter of Vox's Corruption. Lucifer had a feeling the technological Overlord wouldn't be trying to draw any attention to himself after that confrontation. Lucifer wasn't done with Vox. In fact, he needed to talk to him again once he was finally out of this fucking bed. But until he had his leg back, there wasn't much point in harassing a business tycoon. "We're keeping it pretty hush-hush. That being said," Lucifer's red and gold eyes flickered to Balaam, "it seems you two have managed to get most of the story."
"We have our sources." Balaam chuckled
"I am loving the vagueness, very reassuring." Lucifer didn't bat an eye. "Fills me with overwhelming confidence."
"Come now, we're Horsemen it's our job to know how all the high ups are doing. Upstairs, Downstairs... it doesn't really matter. That way we can send you cards and gifts while you recover. Right, Syriel?" The way Balaam spoke sounded rather condescending toward his angelic coworker. Of course, Syriel and Balaam had both been angels back in the day, and had often worked together. Only Syriel had not taken the same path as Balaam, and while the Fallen would never admit it, the resentment was still quite obvious.
"I don't think there is anything wrong with getting him a card." Syriel replied, gesturing to the thoughtfully constructed card still in Lucifer's lap.
"There wasn't. I found it very thoughtful, actually." Lucifer assured him. This was just a further reminder as to why Syriel was his favorite.
"I am more impressed that you are such a recluse, the only way to get you was to attack you in your own fucking house." Balaam wasn't one to mince words. Though, Lucifer couldn't help but feel an increased venom in his comments. For the life of him, the Devil couldn't figure out what he might have done to piss Famine off this time. He barely interacted with the Horsemen. The last time he had talked to any of them for more than five minutes, in passing, was probably before Charlie was born, when he and Lilith had visited Azrael on a trip to Purgatory.
"You don't have to be here. You know that right?" The Devil wondered if he called Lysander, could the Hellborn even throw Balaam out? Most likely not. It would be amusing to see him try but Lysander was a decent employee, and it wasn't going to be worth the trouble of replacing him if he got murdered.
"But I had to give you your gift." Balaam feigned offense. Lucifer sighed, rolling his eyes. He wasn't in the mood or the condition to start a fight. However, they were interrupted by the loud sound of clopping outside of the doorway. Lucifer, Syriel, and Balaam all exchanged glances before the three looked toward the closed door.
"Ow!" There was a voice from the other side. "Ow." The voice had a thick accent to it, sounding vaguely familiar. "Ow! Sonuvabitch stupid doorknob." Syriel cleared his throat, giving Lucifer an apologetic look.
"I'll get it."
"Tell me he did not bring a fucking horse into my goddamn mansion." Lucifer's eyes were focused on the door. He could hear the voice outside still making sounds of pain, but there were also suspiciously horse-like noises in the background.
"It sounds like he brought the horse." Balaam looked increasingly amused by the situation as Syriel finally opened the door to reveal a Hellborn standing on the other side, nursing an obviously burned hand. There was also a pair of massive, muscular, suspiciously equine-shaped legs visible behind the Hellborn in question.
"Oi! About fuckin' time, mate! That doorknob fuckin' bit me." The Hellborn was smaller than the other two, pale blue skin, dark red hair, and of course a pair of ebony black ram-like horns looping behind pointed ears adorned with a multitude of earrings. With his black and red eyes, spiked tail, and outrageous accent he reminded Lucifer of someone else he knew. "Sorry you got the piss smashed outta ya! My son woulda stopped the whole thing, yeah? Bloody birthday party had the worst timing." Lysander's dad.
"Look who got across the Hallowed ground all by himself." Balaam snorted, golden eyes glancing at the burn on the Hellborn's hand. "Too bad you were outsmarted by a doorknob."
"I wasn't expectin' it to be fucking booby-trapped. Most doors let me in." The Hellborn scoffed. Lucifer wracked his brain to try and remember his name. He did finally manage to remember his position. Of course, with Syriel and Balaam around it was easy to recall that this was War. (Though the horse was also a pretty solid fucking clue.) Lucifer wasn't as familiar with him as the prior Horseman of War had lost his position after trying to overthrow the other three. (Lucifer has seen it coming a mile away. That was kind of expected when you had Hellions in a position of power. Power corrupts- and all that bullshit. The Devil never understood why all four weren't angels at this point, but there was always talk of balance and other fucking shit that the Metatron made up to cover for her obvious oversights. It didn't matter anyway. It was only a matter of time until this War tried some shit too. Or maybe Balaam would finally snap.)
"I am glad to see you, Abdiel." Syriel nodded politely to the Hellborn. Abdiel! That was his fucking name!
"Yeah, funny seeing you here." Balaam wasn't even looking in War's direction, but rather, examining the claws on his golden gauntlet. "And your horse."
"I had to get over the fuckin' sacred floor. Don't act all pissy just cause you didn't think of it." Abdiel didn't seem all that perturbed by Balaam's attitude. But in all fairness, he was probably used to it. "The horse can cross. It's called problem solving."
"It's called: don't bring a fucking horse into someone's house. Why do I even need to tell you this?" Lucifer wasn't sure how the actual horses worked when it came to the Four Horsemen. Were they able to be summoned and dismissed at will? Or were they going to need to find a way to get a horse off of the second floor of Lucifer's (once) pristine manor.
"Well then don't bless your floor." Abdiel gestured behind him.
"I didn't!" Lucifer brought his good hand to his chest, aghast by the accusations. "You have an issue with it, take that shit up with Michael and his little bitches."
"Oh, Michael is back." Abdiel sounded vaguely surprised by the revelation. "You know, I only got to meet the guy once, but you think he'll fight me?"
"I think he'll kill you." Lucifer remarked flatly.
"I would pay to see it, personally." Balaam looked as if he were strongly considering the idea, however, Abdiel seemed to abruptly lose interest.
"So, how's my boy been doing in his new job? I told ya he was a spitfire, right?"
"I mean... he's fine." Lucifer didn't have too much to say on Lysander, given that prior to Adam living there, the interactions Lucifer had with his staff were incredibly minimal. The better choice would be to ask Syn, but Lucifer wasn't about to bring her in.
"He's not fired, I'll take it as a win." Abdiel pulled a bouquet of flowers out of the pocket of his vest, offering them to Lucifer. "These are from Syriel. I'm just the only fucker who can touch shit without it dying."
"Thank you." Lucifer took the bouquet. They were lovely flowers, some seemed to be grown in Heaven, others in Hell. It was a nice mix of flora. The thoughtful nature of the gift outed it as having been from Syriel. Full offense to the two natives of Hell in the Horsemen, neither of them had the forethought for such a gift.
"I thought you had forgotten them." Syriel seemed pleased.
"I almost did." Abdiel laughed. "Luckily, my husband pays attention to all this shit, because I don't. You know there's a hole in the front of your house, right?" The red, glowing pupils in Abdiel's otherwise pitch-black eyes flickered to look at the Devil.
"Really? No shit. I hadn't noticed." Lucifer tried to be as obviously sarcastic as he could. However, it seemed wasted on the Hellborn who reached over and patted Lucifer on the back.
"You're welcome."
"Maybe don't touch him." Syriel grabbed Abdiel by the shoulders, gently pulling him away. "Sorry about that."
"He's new." Balaam was still clearly uninterested in the conversation. Lucifer vaguely wondered why he was sticking around, other than to be a constant source of irritation to the Devil. (Which wasn't out of the question.)
"Well, this has been lovely... or at least tolerable. But I'm afraid we're all out of time. I have lunch coming, and my chef didn't make enough for everyone-" Lucifer wasn't going to waste a good excuse on the Horsemen, but he didn't need them all gathering around him, as having more than two in close proximity was always a bit unnerving. Though he was distracted as he saw wisps of white fog wafting up from beneath his door. He squinted at the door as the doorknob turned. The comfortable temperature in his room suddenly started to plummet as Balaam adjusted his coat around him, pulling the fabric more tightly. White fog came rolling in as the door swung fully open. "Wow, Azzie, really laying it on thick here." Lucifer had to give her points on the theatrics. Death had gotten a flair for the dramatic recently. The room went silent. Lucifer felt a shift, not just in the temperature, but in the overall mood. Everyone was looking at him.
"I'm... not Azrael." The figure that walked through the door looked almost more like a hologram than a person. She was nearly translucent, her pale skin seemed to almost glow, her hair moved around her head and face like white fire. Her lips and eyes were a deep, contrasting black. She had a blazing halo of light above her head with its own unique shape, symbolizing her as one of the Horsemen. The white smoke that billowed around her feet, filling the room was indicative of Death herself.
But that wasn't Azrael.
"Who the fuck are you?" The entire mood of the room had dropped faster than the temperature. Suddenly, not a soul in the room would meet Lucifer's eye. No one save for this relatively unknown angel would even look at him. The angel cleared her throat, wings of light unfolded from her back, spreading out as she took the bottom of her hooded dress in her hands and curtsied politely.
"I'm Charon."
"Who?" Lucifer's eyes narrowed.
"Charon." She repeated her name as if that meant anything to the Devil. "I'm... the new Death."
"New Death?" Lucifer's voice raised, though it was quite unintentional. "The fuck happened to the Old Death?"
"You... don't know?" Charon looked rather uncomfortable with the series of questions. And well she should. That Halo on her head, that deathly chill and pale mist- it didn't belong to her. This was Azreal's whole shtick.
"She's... dead, Lucifer." Syriel's voice was quiet, gentle, and yet the words hit harder than a tentacle from a Shoggoth.
"Did you seriously not know?" War looked equally uneasy with the way the conversation had shifted.
"NO!" Lucifer felt his eyes burning a bit. He had always felt somewhat kindred with Azrael. Her job was just as hated as his own. She was outcast from Heaven's inner circles despite never having Fallen. Angles that had once loved her, now kept their distance out of fear. But despite all that, she had still been a prominent political figure. Lucifer should have been told something! Now he couldn't even remember the last time he had seen her, the last words he had said to her. "No one fucking told me!"
"Mate, we sent you an invitation to the funeral." War's voice was calmer than his usual boisterous shout. But that did little to alleviate the heavy feeling in Lucifer's chest that felt like it was squeezing at his heart.
"Thanks for coming, by the way." Famine's biting comment barely registered as Lucifer was trying to still grasp at the information that had just been so carelessly dropped on him. How were the others not freaking out?
"You guys are fucking with me, right? You can't kill Azrael. You can't kill any of the Horsemen." Lucifer tried to force a laugh to stop himself from breaking down. "Especially. Not. Azrael."
"That is not dead, which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons... Even Death may Die." Charon's voice was soft, melodic, but what she said was a dagger to his heart. Those words sent a chill to his core that had nothing to do with the natural drop in temperature that came with being around the personification of Death. Azrael... was gone.
"I... didn't know..." Lucifer laid back, staring at the ceiling.
"Well, you're not very attentive, so that's not a fucking surprise." Balaam was out for blood.
"Famine." Death's voice reverberated around the room and the Fallen Angel obediently fell quiet. "We did try and reach out to you, multiple times. But I believe you were busy with your daughter, who was only a tiny thing at the time."
"It's been that long!?" Lucifer didn't think this could get any worse. But Charlie was a fucking adult. He had been so out of the goddamn loop he didn't realize Azrael had been dead for years. He had just assumed she was busy when he took Charlie to Purgatory on the family trips. Did Jazeerael and Jezabel even know?
"We've upset you when you're supposed to be resting." Charon frowned. "My apologies. We thought you were aware of the situation, only disinterested. We can try again another time to talk. But can we get a time other than eleven o'clock? I don't mean to sound harsh, but you seem to always be busy at that time."
"Huh?" Lucifer was still reeling from the revelation, but eventually the realization of what Charon had said, started to sink in. "Oh my fucking god. You're the eleven o'clock!?" The appointment that Syn had been trying to push on him was the goddamn Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
"Yes. I wanted a chance to introduce myself, as well as discuss some... rather serious issues. But I do not think now is a great time. We were under the impression you knew about Azrael, sorry for the way that was handled. I am making a terrible first impression." Charon bowed her head. She placed a beautiful, handmade card beside Lucifer's bed. "Please focus on your recovery."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Balaam got to his feet. "Is he a child? Or is he the goddamn King of Hell? The fact that Azreal's been dead for years and he hasn't bothered to find out, isn't our fucking problem."
"He needs to be focusing on recovery." Syriel put a hand on Balaam's shoulder, making a clear effort to try to calm him down but the Fallen wasn't having any of it. Lucifer struggled to sit up. The last thing he needed was to look weak and pathetic in front of the literal Harbingers of the Apocalypse.
"He needs to be focused on the End of the Fucking World." Balaam gestured around him. "You didn't think we wanted to visit you because we actually care about your sorry ass, did you?"
"Balaam. That's quite enough." Charon's voice was raised.
"No. He's not my fucking King. I don't have to coddle him, and neither do any of you." It was true. The Horsemen were not under Heaven or Hell. They were their own unique entities, beings of balance who served one purpose, and that was to monitor the end of days, and, when the time comes: ride at the forefront as everything crashed down around them. "And I think this shit is a little more important than his fucking feelings. You angels are too goddamn nice. It's frustrating."
"Well fuck me dead. He has a point." Abdiel had his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, watching the reactions carefully. "We've been pushed aside long enough. This isn't some petty personal bullshit, it's the goddamn Apocalypse."
"Yes but-" Syriel tried to speak up, but Lucifer had heard more than enough. Shoggoths were in Hell, the Archangels were back, and Death herself had died. How? He didn't know, but he sure as shit was going to find out. The Horsemen didn't just drop dead for no reason, they were supposed to be untouchable.
"Enough." Lucifer had to use his booming voice to silent the dissent from the riders, despite the fact that it hurt. Once they fell quiet, he cleared his throat. Speaking normally. "You wanted to talk; we can talk. I literally can't leave." He gestured to the bed where the obvious shape of a leg was missing.
"We have seen signs of the Apocalypse," Charon took a deep breath, her shoulders were straight, standing as tall as she could, however she was noticeably shorter than Pestilence and Famine. (War seemed to be the smallest of them. Lysander obviously didn't get his height from his dad.) "As you know, we are unable to interfere directly, but we can let you know so that you might prepare yourself, your people."
"How long?" Lucifer was trying to read their expression.
"You know I cannot give an exact date." Her face was an unreadable mask. Though, the Horsemen had no reason to lie about something like this. "However, if things continue to progress at their current rate... maybe... five years and that is being remarkably generous."
"I've got money on two years and three months." War interjected.
"I would say six months if you don't get off your lazy fucking ass and do something." Famine's voice was cold, despite the smile on his face. "We managed to dodge it back in 2012, no thanks to you. But we aren't skating by again."
"Have you talked to Heaven?" Lucifer could ignore the insults for now. It's not like he could do anything to Balaam in his current state. But he would remember this for later.
"Yes. They actually attend the meetings we set up." Balaam was on a roll today. "But shock of all shocks, they weren't super receptive."
"To be fair, we still need to update Michael directly. He only just returned." Charon was trying to help, but she wasn't very successful. Lucifer tried to remember if he even knew her from back in his angel days. She clearly needed some leadership help; the Horsemen under Azrael had been a united front. This? This was almost embarrassing. What sort of fucking Horsemen of the Apocalypse sat waiting for a goddamn meeting? Azrael would have been kicking down the door. "He is next on our list."
"I was first? Flattered." Lucifer's deadpan expression and flat tone did little to lighten the heavy air that had settled in the room.
"You're easier to find. Not everyone stays in their house all day feeling sorry for themselves." Famine scoffed.
"That's quite enough, Balaam." Charon seemed to have finally had enough of the insubordination. Angels were a strange lot, they loved order and chain of command, but they also loved protecting feelings. There was a flash of light and there was a scythe of bone in the pale rider's hand. She pointed the blade at Famine, her wings flared out, every eye embedded in the feathers as black as a starless night. Her halo was shining so brightly, it hurt Lucifer's eyes. The room was only growing colder, frost started crawling up his walls. He could assume the floor was frozen solid, but it was impossible to tell under the white fog that Death had brought rolling in with her. "You will keep your mouth shut for the duration of this meeting."
"As you wish." Balaam did back down, which was unsurprising given that he had a glowing blade of angelic steel pressing into his neck.
"Lucifer," Charon's voice returned to normal, her wings vanished, the room returned to a tolerable chill. (The cold was a bit welcome given Hell's heat.) "Apologies for our behavior. We have been working more than usual, that is no excuse, but merely an explanation. However, I do hope our words have inspired you to take actions against what is coming."
"This feels... early." The End of the World was something he knew was coming from the moment it had been first created. However, he was always under the impression that the timeline was vast, the end so far in the distance that even with his immortality, he might never see it.
"Yes. It does." Charon met his gaze.
"Does this have anything to do with the Corruption?" If anyone knew the truth about what was going on, it would be the Four Horsemen. Lucifer didn't need to hide anything about the current state of Hell from them.
"It would be wise to assume so." Syriel looked at Charon who gave an approving nod. "It pleases me to see you take this seriously."
"It's the end of the fucking world, not some birthday party. I may be self-centered but the Apocalypse destroys Hell too, and I just got the house the way I like it." Lucifer tried again to ease the tension in the air. He wanted the Horsemen to think he had this all under control, a fact that was, incredibly false. But still, he had an image to uphold.
"Wait, so you like the giant fuckin' hole in the wall?" Abdiel looked behind him, there was a whinny from behind the door and Lucifer was forced to remember the fucking horse in his hallway.
"Maybe I do. It really opens up the foyer." The Devil snapped back.
"You know," Abdiel put both hands on his hips, clearly recalling the entrance. "You have a point. I'm gonna ask Yuri if we can have a giant fuckin' hole in our wall."
"Thank you for your time, King Morningstar." Charon interjected seamlessly as Abdiel pulled out his phone. "I do hope this ends up being avoided just like our previous close calls. Knowing you are at least aware of the situation is relieving."
"We really did want to wish you a swift recovery." Syriel bowed his head.
"Can't wait to see how long this lasts." Balaam remarked, his voice was quiet, but Lucifer still heard the comment, and judging by how Charon gripped his arm, dragging him toward the door, she had heard it too.
"We can fix your hallway and doorknob." Death gave him a soft smile. "That should make things easier on your staff. Between Syriel and myself, we can hopefully fix the issue."
"Yeah, that would be great." Lucifer watched as she opened the door. There was the fucking horse again, or at least what Lucifer could see of it, as the thing was massive. "So how are you getting that horse downstairs? Does it... transform or...?"
"It can. But not into anything that'll make stairs any more manageable." Balaam was quite amused as Abdiel followed him outside. War looked up at his mount before looking back at Lucifer.
"I'll figure it out. Don't you worry about a thing."
"That... makes me more worried." Lucifer's eyes narrowed.
"It'll be fine." Abdiel's attempts at reassurance failed before Charon started to close the door she poked her head through for a moment.
"Please, get some rest." And with that, she closed the door behind her. Lucifer could hear sounds of a horse moving on the floor outside his door before he heard a loud crash from the end of the hall. That probably wasn't a good sound, but honestly, it was the least of his worries at this point. He laid back on his bed, staring at his ceiling in silence. He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or scream, or maybe some mix of the two. All he knew was that he wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon.
"Good news," Adam's voice roused him from his thoughts. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the First Man had returned through his bathroom mirror with a fresh plate of food in hand. "The hallway is passable now. Bad news: you have a broken window at the end of the hall. Also, there are hoofprints burned into the floor. Though, I did see a really cool horse so I guess it all evened out." Adam put the plate on his lap.
"Did they purify the lawn too?" Lucifer glanced out of his window, but there wasn't much to see. He just knew that the Archangels had been putting their holy hands and feet on all of his shit.
"I dunno, actually." Adam followed his gaze, having to turn his whole head to see with his only working eye.
"I forgot to bring it up to them." Lucifer stared at the food resting on his lap. It smelled amazing, but the scent made his stomach churn. Adam looked him up and down.
"You look like shit warmed over. Like... worse than when I left."
"Did you know about Azrael?" Lucifer turned his gaze from the food, his appetite was nonexistent. He had too much weighing on his mind to even think about eating.
"I... heard some rumors, but I don't know anything concrete. Heaven kept it kind of hush-hush, something about not wanting to cause a panic. I only know she's not Death anymore."
"She's dead."
"Oh shit." Adam did seem genuinely surprised by the revelation. Either he was telling the truth about not knowing her fate, or he had gotten acting lessons in Hell and was delivering an award-winning performance. "I- fuck. H-how? Like... she's fucking Death you know?"
"She was killed, I imagine."
"Holy fuck." The bed sunk down as Adam sat next to him. He looked like Lucifer had just stabbed him through. "Damn... I liked her. She was kinda hot."
"Adam." Lucifer glared at him.
"What? Dude that's super fucked up. When did it happen?"
"A while ago, apparently. They said they tried to tell me, but not hard enough, I guess." Lucifer felt a weight on his shoulder, he looked to see Adam's hand, like a shadow over the white fabric of his shirt.
"That fucking sucks."
"Yeah... it does." The room fell quiet. Lucifer was still processing all his thoughts. This had not been the day he wanted. If anything, the meeting had left him feeling worse about the current state of Hell.
"You still need to eat though." Adam's voice broke the heavy silence. His hand fell from the Devil's shoulders and he started to get to his feet. "Cause if you die, we're all fucked. And I don't think they fixed the lawn." He looked back out of the window. Lucifer's mouth drew into a thin line as he saw a random Sinner that must have walked too close to the mansion grounds. (It was easy to do with the angelic steel gates having been torn down in the fight. They would repair themselves, eventually, however Hell's repair process had been lagging recently.) The Sinner in question was actively on fire, rolling on the ground, and only burning worse.
"Yep, it's still blessed." Lucifer mused as he watched Lysander come running around the corner with a bucket of water that did little to alleviate the Sinner's condition.
"If you think about it, it's an extra layer of security."
"It can't keep you out."
"Nothing can keep me out. I'm too fucking powerful." Adam flexed his arms as if that had anything to do with his magical prowess.
"What about a room made entirely of cushions?"
"Shut the fuck up, no one likes you."
"Master!" There was a series of thumping noises at the door. Syn sounded rather distressed. Adam immediately went to the door, opening it (it seemed the doorknob problem had been fixed) allowing Syn to come flying in, full force into Lucifer's face. "There you are!"
"Yes. Here I am. The same place I have been in all fucking day." Lucifer used his good hand to push Syn back slightly. "I literally can't leave."
"But I saw you on the TV!"
"Probably some old footage." Lucifer sighed. He didn't keep a TV in his room for obvious reasons, but he could access most of the channels from his phone. He grabbed it off his desk as he pulled up the 666 News website and saw footage of himself standing with Charlie, talking to the cameras with a smile. "They pre-record this shit and just play it whenever they're low on bullshit to gossip about."
"Oooohhhhhh! I was very concerned! I thought you had left the bed!"
"Nope. Been here all day dealing with those guests one of you let in." Lucifer had a feeling Syn was the culprit, but without arms, she would require some assistance.
"I've been in the fucking kitchen all day." Adam held up his hands as if surrendering under Lucifer's gaze. Syn did a little flip in the air.
"Your eleven o'clock! I let them in!"
"That checks. Did Lysander help you?"
"Affirmative, Master! I am so glad I could help you make your appointment on time!"
"Please check with me first, Syn. And for future appointments: just tell me the names of the people they are scheduled with. That would have saved me a fuck-ton of time today."
"You look do dumb standing next to your daughter. You look like a fucking Muppet." Adam snorted, still watching the footage on Lucifer's phone. He glared, going to turn it off, when suddenly something caught his eye. In red and white text, at the bottom of the screen, Lucifer saw the word: LIVE.
He blinked. Looking at it harder.
"What the actual fuck?"
A/N: A/N: And now we move to the next major Arc! Introducing some new characters! (Including, at long last, Lysander's dad!) I know its a little shorter, but the chapter after this is a MUCH bigger one. So think of this as a palate cleanser: :D I took a bit of liberty with the color schemes for the Riders of the Apocalypse and am going with the more modern versions. (Sorry Conquest. Ilu.)