Upon their arrival back at the hotel after the field trip, the group had broken apart, quiet and thoughtful. Lucifer wasn't sure he'd seen Charlie so quiet. After Wyr had run off, his daughter had practically been bursting with questions. Questions about things he didn't know the depths of.
Are the graves for all hellspawn?
Are there more cemeteries in the other rings?
When you made them, how did they first work?
Are there more people like Wyr who work there?
Why make the fog?
Wyr's ideas on other deities or the world after we go, where did they come from?
Can Sinners try to redeem themselves and when they die they move on to Heaven?
How do you decide who goes where?
Do you think tending to the dead offers some sort of redemption?
If you made the cemeteries, who hired Wyr?
That last question had thrown him though. He assumed Lilith had hired Wyr, assumed Lilith had done a lot of things without his knowledge. She'd taken to Hell like a duck to water, where he had struggled, seeing only the bad choices that had come with free will. He flung his arm over his eyes, lying in his empty, cold sheets on his even emptier, cold bed. He'd really fallen to Hell and failed spectacularly ever since. He couldn't answer any of Charlie's questions on the walk to the hotel. Every answer he gave began with 'I don't really know' and ended with 'I'll go check my notes.' What notes exactly? He didn't know. There were no notes. He hadn't cared enough. Lilith had asked for a space for the dead, he'd made one because it would make her happy.
He did anything to make her happy. The one single light in the dark, the one person who he'd thought was his person, and he was hers. Lilith represented the positive flow of free will he'd given to earth, whilst the realm he'd been banished to, was the darkness and evil that came with that choice. To keep Lilith, he'd suffered the dark. To what end though? She'd up and left him, leaving him in the darkness and with no way out. Alone. Always, unforgivably alone, because he wasn't enough. And now his daughter was probably in her own room, lying on her bed with her girlfriend, and thinking the same thing.
Lucifer wasn't enough.
He wasn't enough of a husband.
He wasn't enough of a ruler.
He wasn't enough of an angel.
He wasn't enough of a father.
He rolled over on the bed, eyes squeezed shut like if he closed them tight enough the world would just stop and his mind would fall quiet. As he shifted, he felt the crumple in his pocket. He reached into his pocket and drew out the crumpled red card paper, squinting to make out the writing. The numbers were written in a cursive loopy script, so 1920s it made Lucifer want to barf. He knew whose stationary this was.
He hadn't noticed Alastor slipping closer, hadn't felt the paper in his pocket until just now. He knew that sly bastard was behind the note. The snobbish, red paper even had a deer letterhead. It was so overdone. So tacky.
That being said, when he finally made out the writing as a phone number, and name written underneath, he didn't hesitate to pull out his phone and put the number in… And then pause there, unable to figure out what he should say. He'd only met the woman today, and what if this was Alastor having a laugh at his expense? Some form of sick entertainment? What if this wasn't Wyr's phone number at all? Why would Alastor give him the phone number to begin with? What was the demon's angle?
Did Wyr even want to hear from him? It's not like they were friends right? They'd only just met after all…But he'd caught her when she tripped…And she'd…Seen him at his lowest.
Lucifer dropped his phone and curled back into a ball. That was right. She'd seen her king having a meltdown because his daughter had walked into a perfectly safe cemetery. Something he'd built himself and should have known would do no harm. Wyr had hinted that she was disappointed in him since the beginning too. She had from the start decided he wasn't enough. No wonder Lilith was so disappointed in the angel she'd married. She'd thrown her lot in with a man who became undone being banished to hell, who couldn't fathom being any more alone than he'd become. He cringed deeper into himself. This wasn't helpful. But he couldn't stop thinking it. He knew better than to think about his wife…Ex-wife? She'd left after all. Had decided not to tolerate his…Everything anymore.
Charlie tolerated him too. Tolerated a father who hadn't known where she was living…That she had a girlfriend, who'd promised to try to help her get in touch with Heaven…And had been failing miserably. Now that was piling on top of everything. Michael wasn't picking up his calls, not that he could blame his brother…Why would someone take calls from the single black sheep in the family? None of his brothers or sisters would take his messages, and the replies he did get were filled with empty excuses.
What use did he even have if he couldn't set up one fucking meeting for his daughter's sake?
Not enough.
He was not enough.
It wasn't helpful, and the dark edges of himself seemed to fold together, compounding every negative thought until the whole room was swallowed up in darkness.
It took a week for Lucifer to surface again.
When he woke up, eyes crusted with exhaustion, his neck aching from sleeping at his desk, there were messages waiting on his phone from Charlie. He didn't even want to touch his phone. Didn't want the responsibilities it held to be shoved in his face.
Hey dad, was wondering if you'd like to come to the hotel for a talk with the residents? A few of them have some more questions about redemption.
Hey dad, just wondering if you got my message? I would have asked Alastor to see if he could contact Wyr but he's been busy with his own work.
Hey dad…Are any of these messages going through? I haven't heard back from you yet. Vaggie tells me not to worry, but it's been a few days.
Hey dad, if you're too busy, never mind. I'll just wait for Alastor to get back.
Call me when you can.
Ah fuck. His head thumped against the table again, thoughts busy and loud. He fucked it up again. How long had he sunk down? How long had it taken for him to surface? He rubbed at his eyes, checking the date on the phone. All the work he'd been trying to put in, down the drain. He'd lost a week. Charlie had tried to get in touch with him for a week.
A sick, twisted part of him shoved the knife deeper.
But she didn't come to check on you, because you're not worth the effort.
He turned his head, staring at the open messages on his phone. His eyes felt hot and stingy and he tried to steer his thoughts away from the rot.
Ever since his visit to the hotel, Charlie had asked and asked for him to move in. Said it would be good for him, to be around more people…Maybe she was right, but then the manor would be empty. The house he'd raised his little girl in, the home he'd founded with whom he'd thought was the only love he'd ever have. What the fuck was he even doing? Charlie's messages sat waiting for him…Professing that she'd go to the cocky red piece of shit, rather than wait for a never present father.
He needed to think of a good lie. Something like he'd been completely swamped with paperwork, or he'd had to go visit another ring…Something so his daughter wouldn't think her father was just ignoring her…Or so deep down a hole it felt like he'd never claw his way out.
Great, because all good fathers lied to their daughters. Real champion here. Setting the bar real low.
Looking at the blinking message screen, Lucifer hurriedly backed out of the chat with Charlie, and frowned at the draft message to the unknown number sitting in the message bank. Whose number was that? Lucifer sat up and looked around the room, trying to come up with an answer. His workroom held the signs of an episode he'd been too deep in the darkness to recognize. More duck prototypes lined the walls, sitting on every available surface. The spare bed he'd moved to the workroom was rumpled and just a pile of sheets. He got up, cracking joints and flexing his wings with a flap. When the breeze shifted around the room, it lifted papers, rustling them like the sound of hundreds of wings. His heart ached for a moment at the homesick feeling. Yeah…That hurt. From a stack of white papers, fell a small, crumpled piece of blood red letterhead, and Lucifer was instantly transported back to pulling the note out of his pocket.
He dove for the note, catching it before it fell to the floor, and rolled with a groan onto his back.
"Yes! Owww. That was a terrible idea! Stupid…It's a piece of paper, not porcelain, Luci." In the dim light from his lamp he could still make out the spidery, loopy number and the attached name. Wyr. He wanted to talk to Wyr…To hear her speak Gaelic to him and maybe call him out on all his bullshit. Charlie had wanted to talk to Wyr anyway. He was really doing this for Charlie. Making up for his inattention to Charlie, by talking to Wyr.
"Makes all the sense in the world to me. I'm not totally avoiding calling my daughter."
Now what to say? He needed a good opening line. Something that stood out, but not too much, something that said I'm a cool person and we should totally talk. He was cool after all…He had created Hell. That was cool right? Maybe…Not for her, being a Sinner and all…that. Lucifer dropped his arm holding the note. Idiot. He sat up, crossing his legs and pulled out his phone. He was just going to do it. He was just going to say something like 'hey, this is Lucifer, king of hell, we met the other day…' yeah, YEAH! That sounded like a solid-
Do you like rubber ducks?
He hit send with his mind completely blank. When the message had sent there was a pause while he digested what he'd just written. Valid question, solid question, some would say great quackstion? No? Just him? What the FUCK was he doing?! He couldn't take the question back…Did he double down? Make a joke of it? Did he try to find Wyr's home and sneak in and destroy the phone before she could see that?
His phone quacked, and Lucifer flung it away from him like it was the most poisonous thing on the planet. That couldn't have been her responding.
But what if it was?
He lunged for the phone, crawling across rubber duckies, papers he'd neglected to sign for years (because honestly who needed this many papers signed?) and dug through the debris of an eviscerated, over-sized duck before he saw the glowing screen. He was almost too scared to look. No he wasn't!
I mean…Yes? They can be cute.
THAT WAS AN ANSWER! And not a bad one! Lucifer's confidence now stoked, he followed up.
It's Lucifer…by the way.
His phone quacked again, only a few moments later, and he didn't fling it across the room this time. Progress.
I thought as much. Alastor told me to expect to hear from you at some point.
Asshole. His phone went off again.
To be honest I thought he might have been lying when I never heard from you. Was going to have to rip him a new one.
So she'd been waiting for him?
Wyr yawned deeply, staring at her phone as she sat up in bed. The room was dark and quiet, save from some screaming outside. She hadn't exactly been expecting the message from Lucifer. Had thought about calling Alastor out on not holding up his end of the agreement. But the message was there, lighting up her phone like a bizarre display.
Do you like rubber ducks?
Not what she'd thought she'd see at 3am. When another message pinged, a confused smile lit her face. Lucifer was asking her if she liked rubber ducks at 3am…Was the King of Hell an insomniac? Did he like rubber ducks? She tapped out a reply, hesitated, and sent a follow up. When Lucifer replied she chuckled.
You're telling me if I'd waited a few more days I could have seen that asshole get a new one ripped into him? What a loss.
He was such a child.
I guess so. I'm sorry to deny you that. How can I make up it up to you?
Wyr hit send before she realised how sensual that sounded. She choked and slipped deeper under the covers, squeezing her eyes closed and ignoring the hot flush that went through her. What a dummy. He was going to just stop talking to her. Just straight up ignore her now because that was so inappropriate. When her phone dinged, she reluctantly opened it, waiting for the 'how dare you speak to you king that way' speech.
I was thinking maybe we could talk about the cemeteries. You said you tended to all of them.
Wyr sat up, too nervous to be excited. He wanted to know more? Was he showing an interest? Could she get him to sign the documents?
I'd be happy to answer whatever questions you have.
Wyr sent the message and added quickly.
Maybe we could meet up?
That wasn't too forward right?
Lucifer's breath felt like it was going to leave his body as he stared at Wyr's messages. She'd offered to meet up…To answer his questions…That was like meeting up with a friend right? Like a friend date? People did that. He got up from the floor and went to the bed, laying down as he figured out how to answer.
That would be great…Would you like to come to the hotel? I know Charlie has some more questions I don't think I can answer on my own.
He waited.
Oh I see how it is. You just want me to answer Charlie's questions for you! Sly.
...
No! I mean, yes, but that wasn't the only reason…You could come to the manor? It would just be us.
Wyr's answer was slow, three dots moving up and down as she typed. Lucifer's eyes were trained on the dots and when they finally disappeared, he barely registered it.
Why don't you come to the southern cemetery with me tomorrow?
Somewhere she felt safe. Lucifer could understand that.
Can I pick you up?
Such a gentleman…If you insist then.
Friendship date. That's what this was. Lucifer was building a friendship with a woman who was very nice, and beautiful, and didn't seem to think he was worth all the hype. He let go of a large breath, letting his phone rest on his chest once Wyr had sent over an address in the city center. It made sense to live in the city center if she had to travel out for work.
He had plans. And not with Charlie! Lucifer picked up his phone, dialing his daughter's number. It rang for a minute until she picked up, voice husky and edged in anxiety.
"Dad? Are you alright? Wat's wron-"
"Charlie! Your old man's got a hold of Wyr, I'll get all the answers you need okay?"
"Wha-Who…Dad…It's 4 in the morning…What are you talking about?" Lucifer paled, pulling his phone from his face he winced looking at the time. He hadn't even realised… Wyr had responded so quickly…He'd just assumed.
"I'm so sorry Apple Slice! I didn't realise it was so late-or early I guess! Ha haaa…" He let the chuckle die awkwardly. There was a beat of silence.
"It's okay dad. But maybe we can talk in the morning?" He heard another woman's voice in the background, a grumble that sounded like Vaggie. He winced.
"Of course, of course. I love you Charlie. Sweet dreams."
"G'night dad. Love you too." A yawn broke up the words and then Lucifer was hanging up, all at once feeling more than a little guilty for waking up his little girl. When she'd been younger and woke up in the night, he'd taken her to the workshop and they'd look at blueprints together until Charlie had fallen back to sleep. Those nights had been his favourite…The times had changed.
I've just been informed it's 4 in the morning. I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was so early.
I will take payment in rubber ducks for my time tonight.
Lucifer jolted upright, eyes sparkling as he looked at the message. A chuckle rose out of him, hoarse and disbelieving. There was something about this woman that was so out of character for the sinners. Someone who dedicated their afterlife to serve others, shouldn't have ended up in hell. From all accounts, he couldn't see her doing the evil things the rest of the sinners had gotten up to in life. It made him want to ask, to pursue an answer. Why would someone like her go down instead of up? And why was she so tied here that she wouldn't try for redemption?
For a lark, Lucifer went to his desk and snapped a photo of one of the many, many, many ducks he'd been working on. It was pale yellow, with red cheeks, and he'd added a small, matching top hat to the ducks head.
He sent the photo to Wyr, and the reply was almost instant.
What a distinguished gentleman! Alright. You've won me over. I do like rubber ducks.
His heart felt ready to burst.
Rubber ducks were a good gift right? When they did back flips, and waddled, and breathed fire, that made them a cool gift, right? Lucifer nodded to himself as he watched the little duck waddle back and forth across his work table. Was it hot in here? He pulled at his collar. It felt hot in here. When he turned to check the clock, the seconds seemed to tick by as slowly as tar. Was his heart beating too fast? It felt like it.
It would be awkward if he arrived too early right? He pulled out his phone and checked the messages that had been sent back and forth that morning. Had that really happened? It had, because he couldn't just imagine a whole conversation in his phone right? How early was too early? Wyr had said noon would be best for her…And Lucifer had pretended he needed to move some appointments to make it work. What would she think of him, knowing he wasn't needed for hell to run smoothly? Or did she already know?
He couldn't think like this. Was twenty minutes too early? Maybe they could stop for a snack on the way. Maybe they'd take a stroll. Maybe she'd tell him to get lost and be freaked out by his over eager attitude.
Lucifer paused, hand resting on the little rubber duck messily wrapped in paper…He didn't think that'd be something she did. Not really.
He was out the door before he second guessed himself.
The knock at her door sent Wyr fumbling the bundle of herbs as she'd been trying to hang them. Torn between the herbs on the ground and the doorbell that rang again, she checked her phone. It was too early for her to be graced with the king of Hell. She still had time to change and get ready and- wow the doorbell was not an instrument. She stood up and called out, dusting her hands of invisible dust on her apron.
"I will happily curse you-Oh!"
The door opened, and Wyr was suddenly very aware of what she'd been saying. Lucifer waited on her door step, finger outstretched to the buzzer, a cheeky look on his face. When the door opened, their eyes met and he had frozen, a grin on his face.
"I-I didn't mean-"
"Curse me huh?" He waggled his eyebrows. "At least let me do something worthy of a curse." Wyr snorted. She opened the door wider, suddenly embarrassed she'd agreed to the literal king of hell coming to her apartment. He didn't say anything as he looked around, gaze drawing to her messy work table that dominated the space. She became hyper aware she was still dressed in her work clothes, her smeared apron, and her scattered herbs on the floor. Not how she had wanted to present herself, but Lucifer just drew closer to the work table. Wyr shut the door and hurried to the herbs first.
"I'm sorry, don't mind the mess, I was just trying to finish up some extra charms before you got here."
"Charms?" A pair of black boots came into view and Lucifer knelt down beside her, delicately helping her gather up her bundle. Wyr sputtered to herself.
"You don't have to-I mean, this is-Lucifer, please-" Lucifer threw her a sultry grin.
"Don't say please to me too often. I love the sound of it." The heat drowned her like gasoline on a fire until it expanded and burned its way through her. She could picture that. Her begging please and him…
NOPE! WE ARE NOT GOING THERE. NOT NOW, NOT EVER.
Wyr's hands spasmed and she dropped her bundle, scattering the stems again. The black stains on her hands itched, only for a moment until Wyr wrestled herself back into order. Lucifer seemed unaware of his effect on her, and continued to gather her plants.
"You don't have to help…" His answering smile was warm.
"I'm the one that startled you. Did you want to change before we go? I'll sort this for you." Wyr swallowed, touched.
"I should really-"
"There was a time when I knew a little about witchcraft, you know. I think I can hang some herbs to dry." Well, she'd tried right? That's what counted. So she stood up, brushed off her apron again and hung it on the peg in the kitchenette. Besides…She knew he wasn't boasting…He'd helped her learn during her time on Earth. Which begged the question…Did he seriously not remember her?
"I'll try to be quick. Thank you." Lucifer grinned.
"I like that word-" Wyr flushed.
"I can still curse you!"
She ducked into the bedroom and slammed the door, followed by a chuckle that lingered in the heated air. Maybe only she was feeling it. Was he always like that? Wyr wasn't sure she'd be able to handle that.
She leaned against the bedroom door, listening to the sounds on the other side. His boots clicked on her wooden floor and she heard the mumble of him talking to himself. She smiled. So he did that too? There was something sweet about learning these things about the king…about Lucifer.
Wyr left the door and changed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a cropped shirt. As she was changing a shadow flicked across the room and the radio sputtered to life. She hurried over, turning down the volume as she whispered into the box.
"Alastor? It's not like you to reach out during the day."
"I was curious about what my dear friend was up to today! You know I heard the little king of Hell was roaming the streets in your neighborhood." Wyr swallowed and looked to the door.
"He asked for some more information about my work, so I'm taking him to see more of what I do."
"Oh to be a shadow on the wall during that conversation."
"Excuse me?"
"It seems to me as though you still harbor thoughts of our King being somewhat helpful. I can't wait to see what happens when you figure out otherwise." Wyr's teeth ground together as she tried to take a deep breath. Alastor hated Lucifer. She understood that. But she also needed Lucifer, despite his current failings. If she could get him to see the importance of her work, and why it needed to run smoothly, maybe he'd be more interested in helping her.
"I know he cares." Alastor's laugh was a burst of sound and she lunged for the volume dial, spinning it and coughing to mask the sound of radio static.
"Of course he does darling. That's why he never came to see you when you came down." Wyr huffed, crossing her arms at the radio. His sarcastic tone was pushing the boundaries of their friendship.
"Was there something I could help you with Alastor? I kind of have my hands full at the moment."
The was a crackle of laughter across the radio and Wyr shot a look at the door then back to the radio.
"When you loose your temper my dear, try not to set the little king on fire. It wouldn't be very good for either of our business.'"
"You know you-."
"Enjoy your day my dear."
The radio clicked off quietly and Wyr sagged with agitated relief. Whatever Alastor's game was, she really didn't have time to play it today. She hadn't lied to the radio demon. She knew Lucifer still cared. Otherwise he would never have reached out to her.
He had to care.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to the door, and the fallen angel behind it. This was fine. She'd show him around, answer theological questions, and then when he understood what went into everything, she'd ask him about the paperwork. She didn't need to put on a show like with Alastor's group, Lucifer wouldn't care if she didn't look all powerful.
She checked her teeth in the mirror and plucked at her shirt. It was fine right? Black on black was a thing right? She eyed the skin of her midriff, stark against her clothes…He wouldn't care about modesty right? It had taken her three hundred years to finally move on from corsets and chemises and the warmth of the Pride ring made her eternally sweaty. Wyr rolled her eyes. No, the King of Sin did not care for modesty. She was being an idiot. She yanked the door open, startling Lucifer, who was leaning over her table, hands behind his back, carefully not touching anything.
So polite. That was straight up hot.
Wyr cleared her throat and tried to smile.
"Sorry about that! Didn't realise it was laundry day." Lucifer's eyes roamed over her, catching on the hem of her shirt before bolting back up. His smile was almost salacious.
"I like laundry day on you." Well fuck. Was she red? She felt as though she'd eaten a hellpepper straight. An unbecoming cackle rose up and Wyr couldn't stop as it crept its way out. A full witch's cackle rent the air until she slapped a hand over her face. Lucifer snorted, his cheeks tinged pink as he looked away.
"Wow, yeah, I really said that out loud. Ha! I mean, boundaries Lucifer, am I right?" He laughed out, hand scratching at the back of his neck. Wyr grinned back at him, meeting him at the table to collect a few of her finished charms.
"I'm sorry…You caught me off guard. I couldn't help it."
"No, no, no…I'm sorry. I'm sure that's probably something you hear all the time." She didn't want to correct him, so she nodded along silently, picking up her bag from beside the couch. Slipping the charms in, she pulled the strap over her shoulder.
"Well I'm all ready to go. I hope its not an imposition, but I need to make a few pit stops along the way." Lucifer chuckled again, an awkward tension to the air.
"Of course! Lead the way!"
Wyr locked the door behind her and the two set off into the street. For the busy inner city, every street they walked down seemed to empty of people. Wyr watched as Lucifer casually looked around the streets, clicking his tongue and humming along to a song in his head. From an alley, a bruiser of a monkey demon stepped into the street. He towered over Wyr in height and made Lucifer look even shorter. Alastor's words replayed in her head. Little King of Hell.
The bruiser looked as though he'd gut any living thing that crossed him, including Wyr, and he sized her up, stepping out onto the path in front of them.
It was only when he stepped out in front that he noticed Lucifer, whistling a jaunty tune that slowed to a stop as his gaze traveled up the would be burglar. Wyr barely caught the change. In a single move, Lucifer's wings burst into being in a flash of golden light, and his eyes went a glowing, demonic red. Fire snarled from the corners of his lips. Then all at once, he was on the ground again, and all that was left of the bruiser was a puddle of piss on the ground, leading back into the alley.
Wyr swallowed as Lucifer offered her his arm. Without missing a beat she shrugged, and placed a hand on his arm and let Lucifer lead her around the puddle. Now that she'd seen it, it was hard to miss the way the shadows moved behind them, people moving, waiting for the King to leave before they came back out into the light.
She barely registered the shutter click of a camera from behind them.
