Adam awoke with a gasp, sweat clinging to his skin, two-toned hair sticking to his face. He tried to wipe the sweat away with his arm, but his whole body was caked in moisture. The silken sheet was plastered against his body. His mouth was dry, his chest ached. His neck felt bruised as he rubbed his hand along it. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His mind was racing, his head felt heavy, buzzing with whispers he couldn't even understand.
Where was he?
Where was his family!?
He tried to look around the room but one of his eyes was completely enveloped by darkness. Why couldn't he see out of that eye!?
The rest of the room was dimly illuminated by red lighting pouring in from behind thick curtains. He could see... enough, but all the colors seemed to be distorted.
He turned his head fully to see a glass of water on the table beside him. There was a note on it that just said: Drink, in his own handwriting. He brought the glass to his lips and started gulping the cooling water, trying to ground himself.
He was in a room.
A bedroom.
It was lavish, more so than anything he remembered seeing before.
Adam finished the entire glass but his hands were still shaking, his breathing still rapid. He went to put the glass back when he noticed it had been sitting on a little notebook. He picked the little book up and there was another note in his writing on the front that just said: Drink.
Adam opened the little notebook, the strange lighting pouring in from outside made his hands look discolored. It was so odd as his hands didn't even seem to be the same color. One almost seemed to absorb the light around it, the other reflecting it back like some sort of apparition. He shook himself and tried to focus on the writing in front of him.
You are okay. You are safe. The confusion will pass. Just wait. You look different. Do not panic. There is nothing wrong with you.
Adam looked at his hands again. So, this was normal? Not a trick of the light? He felt a bit better knowing that this was all just par for the course. He turned the page.
There is more water in the next room, leave the mirror covered. Just breathe.
More water did sound nice right about now.
Adam peeled the covers off of his skin and planted his feet firmly on the ground. The ground was shockingly soft. He reached down and touched it with his hand.
Right. Carpet. He knew what carpet was.
He stood up. The discoloration seemed to be covering his whole body, a line right down the middle of him. His heart started racing again but he remembered the note. This was all normal. There was no need for panic.
He took a moment to steady his breathing, before walking into the next room. There were several glasses of water along a counter. There was a blanket covering the mirror. Adam took one of the glasses, drinking desperately to try and sooth the burning in his mouth. He took a look around. Two more notes caught his eye. One above the faucet (yes, faucet, that was the word) that simply said: More water here. The second was on the cloth that covered the mirror that just read: Don't. (Adam did have to admit, the desire to look at himself was overwhelming, but he had a feeling he should listen to himself.
He kept drinking, mind slowly starting to calm down. That's right, he was dead. He had been dead for a long time. But it was okay. He was in Heaven. He had two of his sons.
He put the glass down knocking a rubber duck off of the edge if his sink. He picked it up. Was this something Abel had brought home? It was cute, and Abel had always liked animals. He put it back on the sink. If that's where Abel wanted to keep it, that was fine by him. It wasn't in the way. He grabbed yet another glass, the pain in his mouth was subsiding from unbearable to tolerable.
Wait...
No, the duck couldn't belong to Abel. Abel wasn't here.
Adam's grip tightened on the glass as slowly he started to come back to reality. His hands shook again and he stumbled backwards into a wall. He slid down, knees trembling, as he sat on the floor, his breathing quickened again as he tried to bring the glass to his mouth to drink.
Fuck. He was in Hell.
He was in Hell and he was at the mercy of the Devil himself.
Adam finished the last glass, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall until he was able to calm himself down.
Every fucking morning this same routine. He was so tired of having to relive the shock over and over again. He would attribute it to Hell, just another level of his torment at the clawed hands of the Devil- but that wasn't true. He had been dealing with this daily confusion since Heaven. (Though arguably it was getting much worse now that he was down here.) At least he had a system in place.
He took a deep, calming breath and got back to his feet. He started refilling all the glasses one by one and putting them back into place. He took the sheet off the mirror and took a long look at himself. Even with the fucked-up color scheme, at least he still looked like himself, so he was still handsome, especially compared to most Sinners. He washed his face, the cool water helping keep his mind focused. It didn't pay to dwell on how sucky night was from the night terrors to the morning confusion. He had brought up his concerns only once in Heaven, but was assured that he was either exaggerating his symptoms, or in danger of Falling because "that shouldn't happen in Heaven."
And that was the last time Adam had tried to bring it up. When it continued to worsen, he had thought about trying again, this time going to one of Raphael's angels since they were the experts when it came to healing- (and things had gotten so bad Adam was starting to push Abel out of their house for fear his son would catch him in his confused state. He loved living with Abel, but the risk that he might not recognize him one morning was constantly buzzing in Adam's mind. And he still had their Wednesday lunches... that is... until he had stopped going to those.) He really had thought about asking for help, but to be honest, the idea that he was Falling had terrified him into keeping his mouth shut. (It was easier to push Abel away temporarily- just until the problem fixed itself and Adam proved to Heaven that he still deserved to be there, than it was to face the reality he might lose Abel and Seth forever.) He had tried so hard to be obedient, and where had it gotten him? Sera had been right. (But if that had all been symptomatic of his Fall from Grace, then why the fuck were his symptoms worse now that the process was complete? Probably because Hell was Hell and by nature could only make him more fucking miserable.)
Adam dried his face on one of the surprisingly fluffy towels. He went back into the bedroom and opened the closet to find his white angelic robes. He did have a few other outfits now, mostly for walking around Hell- but most clothing really didn't accommodate for retractable wings. Yet another way in which Heaven was superior. He could make a list, but he didn't have the time or the paper.
So, he chose to wear the outfit that had materialized with him when he Fell. (The fact that the flowing fabric reminded him of what he had worn Upstairs was a bonus.) He went back to the mirror, examining himself. He poked one of the floating bits of his halo back into place as it had started to shift when he was getting ready. Once in a while, he would try to force the pieces back together, but that only seemed to make things worse. He examined his teeth- the half of them he could see, given the glow on the right side of his mouth made it impossible to see anything. At least if he had food stuck in teeth on the right, no one would ever know. Seeing himself with fangs was still a little off-putting, but he made them work. That was the blessing of having a beautiful face that even sin couldn't corrupt.
He picked the sheet up off of the ground and covered the mirror back up. It was a shame to deprive the glass of his image, but if he forgot to put it back on before going to sleep, he would have a complete mental breakdown in the morning. Even his angel form had freaked him out, waking up looking like some unfinished art project might break him. (He didn't want anyone in the fucking mansion to know his morning routine. Especially not Lucifer. Best case scenario: He got mocked endlessly. Worst case: the Devil pitied him. And Adam was not to be fucking pitied.)
He fixed the note attached to the sheet, making sure everything was set up, before exiting his room into the hallway. It didn't seem like anyone was really awake yet. That was fine by him. He walked through the hall which- thanks to his hard work- was free of yellow, squeaky tripping hazards. He wasn't a fucking maid, but something really had to be done with the disarray of the mansion. Plus, Adam did need money for things like new clothes or a new guitar since his modified harp would no longer appear when he summoned it. Worst side effect of Falling. Worse than looking almost two dimensional on one half of his body. He'd stay looking this way forever if he could get his harp-guitar back. That thing kicked ass.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Adam heard movement behind one of the doors. It had been a few months since he had started living in the mansion and he was more than accustomed to how things worked. So, without hesitation, he opened the door from behind which the tapping had originated.
"Morning Syn."
"Greetings and good morning, Adam!" Once in a while, she would still call him Maid or Adam-Just-Adam, but for the most part, she seemed to have his name figured out. "Thank you for releasing me!"
"Lysander not up yet?" Usually he was up first, and went right for the gym that Lucifer still had no idea existed. (Adam wasn't going to tell him. It was way more fun to see if he noticed on his own.) He would usually be the one to let Syn out of her room.
"Not yet. I am glad you are awake! I am ready to start the day!"
"You sure are." Adam peeked down the hallway to see if anyone else looked like they were awake. Nope. Lucifer and Lysander's doors were both closed. Well shit. It was rare he was the first one awake-or at least- the first one outside. Syn buzzed around his head for a moment before flying back in front of him. Adam noticed she had a green marker taped to her. Lysander must have attached it before they went to sleep so that Syn could color.
"I made a new sign for my door! Can you help me put it up?"
"Yeah sure, why not?" Adam gave a small shrug. He was supposed to be focusing on doing nice shit for people. And Syn should qualify. If not- he was going to have to take it up with Lucifer because it was way easier to do nice things for her and Lysander than it was to try and force himself to do anything for the former Archangel.
"It is this way!" Syn fluttered back into her room, spinning in a little circle over her desk. "Right here! Do you like it?" Adam looked down at the paper on her desk and the scribbles that did look a little more like letters this time.
"Yeah, that looks pretty good." He wasn't sure how much she cared about his opinion. But it was nice to be asked.
"I think it needs stickers. Can you help me add them?"
"Yeah, some stickers would look sick as fuck, let's do this." At times like this, Adam sincerely wondered if Lucifer had intentionally based Syn off of his daughter, or if Lucifer was just so sad and miserable that everything, he made was filled with the wonder he could never experience.
"They are right there."
"Where?" Adam looked at Syn who hadn't really changed position.
"There."
"Syn, I can't see where you're looking. I don't even know which part of you is the front." Adam had complained about this before- even asking Lucifer to give Syn arms, or eyes, or something to make her life just a little bit easier- but he hadn't been receptive to Adam's suggestions. He just continued to insist that the process was more complicated than Adam could comprehend.
"I rotate." The little wings spun entirely around her body as if proving a point. "I do not have a front."
"Can I give you a little makeover?" That was a good word, right? If he phrased it to sound fun, Syn was more likely to agree. "So then you'll have a front? That way we can know where you're looking?"
"I am looking everywhere! I have three-hundred-and-sixty-degree vision!"
"Okay, but in situations like this you can show me which direction in particular is your focus."
"Hmmm..." Syn was considering it, which was, honestly, more than Adam was expecting. "Okay! Can you add a sticker on me too? That is even BETTER than just having them on my sign!"
"Yeah, sure. Which one? Point with the marker." Adam grabbed the various sticker sheets and spread them out on the table- careful not to cover Syn's new sign. (He had no idea how she got these things. Either Lysander bought them for her, or Syn could make purchases herself- which was a weird concept. Was she a paid employee? Or was this all just stuff left behind by Charlie that Syn confiscated for herself? Adam highly doubted Lucifer would let anyone, even Syn, go through Charlie's things. So, she must have been purchasing the stickers from somewhere else.)
"I think I want this one on me!" Syn flew so the marker was pointing to a glittery rainbow sticker.
"Where do you want it?" Adam carefully peeled the sticker, holding it up so Syn could see.
"On top!" She tilted toward Adam so he could put the sticker on the flat surface. He carefully placed it where she wanted.
"Now I get to decorate, right?"
"Yes! You may give me a front!"
"Cool. Mind if I use your stuff?" He gestured to the hoard of craft supplies that Syn had gathered through unknown means.
"You may!" She actually sounded excited by the idea. Adam went to her stash and began looking through it. He had an idea of what he wanted to do, but he had to be certain Syn had all the proper tools. And she did, surprisingly enough. At some point, Adam would have to ask her about her source. He was curious. Maybe he wanted some markers so he could draw an array of dicks in various colors and leave them hidden throughout the mansion to see if anyone noticed.
"Ready?" Adam found what he needed and brought it beside Syn. He figured he would just use tape to make his changes on the off-chance Syn didn't like what he added- though she should because everything he did was amazing.
"Ready!" Syn settled down on the table as Adam removed the marker from her. He got to work, a little construction paper, a little tape, and then the pièce de résistance. It wasn't much, but it would be enough.
"Okay, finished."
"Can I see?"
"Have at it."
"Yay!" Syn flew up and toward the bathroom to look in the mirror. Why Syn got a fucking room with a bathroom was anyone's guess. But Adam had stopped questioning things a while ago. "I love it!" She flew back in and Adam had to stifle a laugh as he saw her large googly eyes with the oversized lashes. "I look like Master!"
"Yeah, sure." Not even remotely, but at least she was happy. Adam didn't feel the need to correct her.
"I approve!" And with that. She flew out into the hallway, probably looking for anyone she could show off to. Adam could only imagine Lucifer's reaction. He smirked as he started cleaning up Syn's things (even going out in the hall and hanging up her knew sign next to her old one) as she flew up and down the hallway. There was an all too familiar churning in his stomach that sent an ache all over his body.
"Sunnovabitch." Adam scrambled to grab the trash can as he vomited up more of the viscous black liquid. It always made his whole mouth hurt, and recently it had started sending pain through his entire body. He was under the impression that as he purged more of this Corruption that things would get easier. He had never been more wrong. (Okay, he had been more wrong about the whole apple incident, but that was on both he and Eve.) He picked up the trash can and carried it to Lucifer's door, knocking. "Hey fuck face, I did a good deed."
Nothing.
Ugh. Fine. He had been sleeping in late recently, that apparently wasn't new, according to Syn and Lysander. Adam would mock him for it later. Relentlessly. But he had a feeling Lucifer would be annoyed if he missed such a golden opportunity.
Still, there was the matter of the toxic puke in the trash can. Adam wasn't able to destroy it himself. That seemed to be a Lucifer-specific task. After all, if Adam was contagious, he didn't want to risk getting Lysander sick. And Syn didn't seem like she was equipped with any weapons (an obvious oversight on Lucifer's part). So, Adam simply went back into Syn's room and grabbed a marker and in his finest penmanship, he wrote: Thinking of you. Complete with a doodle of himself giving the finger.
There. Problem solved. Or at least it would be when Lucifer got his ass up and out of bed.
Another door opened and Lysander stumbled out sporting a black eye and bandages on his tail. He blinked in the bright hall lighting before spotting Adam with the trashcan and the note. "Whatchya up to, mate?"
"This is for your boss." Adam gestured to the can. "It's my puke."
"Right then. No further questions. Carry on." Lysander gave him thumbs up before rubbing his eyes and giving a huge yawn revealing a mouth of fangs and a forked tongue. "Boss is asleep, eh? Damn. I shoulda slept in."
"You look like shit, dude." Adam looked him up and down. Lysander was typically pretty well dressed, but this time he was in a stained T-shirt (it looked like the stain was some kind of blood but Adam wasn't curious enough to ask) and sweat pants.
"Yeah, I was out late. My boys and I were in a riot. It was a fucking grand time! I think you were asleep or I would have called you out to join."
"I'm not supposed to get hurt, remember?" Adam raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well then just fight better than everyone else. That's not hard, yeah?"
"I mean, it wouldn't be hard for me. I was a military general." Adam didn't mean to brag- well... that wasn't true- he was absolutely bragging intentionally. He couldn't go out and fight for risk of spreading the Corruption. But he could still make sure he was respected as the fearless fighter he was.
"Yeah. Sure." Lysander's tone made it difficult for Adam to judge if he believed him or not. "Regardless, I had to fight to protect the mansion. I am the Boss-man's security. If the place is I danger, I had no choice but to respond."
"I'm surprised I slept through a riot if it was that fucking close."
"I mean... close... ish..."
"You just wanted to be in a riot." Adam narrowed his eyes.
"No, I wanted to be paid to be in a riot." Lysander winked and clicked his tongue. "Important difference. Sure, it was like... ten blocks away, but this shit spreads and it was my job to suppress it. Which I did."
"I mean I respect the hustle; I won't say shit." Adam gave a little shrug. "Hey, you wanna go to the bowling alley? We could play a few rounds before-"
"Bowling what?" Lucifer's door opened and he stood looking up at Lysander and Adam looking exhausted for a brief moment before he straightened himself off.
"Nothing." Adam immediately changed the subject. "I got you something." He shoved the trashcan into Lucifer's chest. "Decorated it and everything."
"Wow... a vomit bucket. Gee. Thanks." Lucifer must have known what it was from the smell alone. "And here I only got you a fucking place to live rent free, a job, and all the food you can eat. However am I going to repay such kindness?"
"Did you even see my beautiful decorations?" Adam feigned his offense. Lucifer looked at the taped drawing with no change in his completely deadpan expression.
"Golly fucking gee whiz. I almost missed that." And with that, the trashcan and the note went up in a burst of flames. Even the ash dissipated into nothing before it ever touched the floor.
"That was Syn's trashcan. You know that right?" Adam didn't bat an eye. Lucifer snapped his fingers and a new trashcan appeared. He grabbed it and shoved it back to Adam. "Thank you."
"Why does Syn even need a trashcan?" Lucifer's expression stayed completely stoic. "What could she possibly need to throw away?"
"Master!" There was an excited cry from further down the hallway before Syn came zipping between them all, her oversized eyes facing in all different directions thanks to her movement. "Good morning! Today's weather is boiling hot with a twenty percent chance of acid rain! News reports of multiple riots last night involving VoxTek! But these reports are alleged to be greatly exaggerated according to sources!"
"Vox. According to Vox, you mean. If it's from 666 News, then the sources are all Vo- why the fuck do you look like that." Mid-rant, Lucifer seemed to finally notice Syn's newest improvements. "Who did that to you?"
"Adam gave me a makeover!"
"Did he now?"
"Do you like it, Master?"
"I personally love it." Lysander clapped his hands softly.
"I like it too!"
"I..." Lucifer seemed to stop himself as he saw Syn's wings spin around her in excitement. The motion made the googly eyes roll around and Adam could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile, before the deadpan expression returned. "It's fine."
"I also have a sticker now!" She rotated the body to show where Adam had placed her choice of sticker.
"Very good. Incredibly professional." Lucifer nodded to her.
"Hurray!"
"Don't you worry about those riots either, boss man, I took care of everything." Lysander assured him. "Of course, it was when I was technically off the clock, so there is the matter of overtime-"
"Syn does time cards. Take it up with her." Lucifer held up his hand.
"Syn does timecards?" Adam blinked. He had always been under the impression Lucifer handled all that. But Syn? That was even better. Syn actually liked him. And now that he had given her a makeover, he clearly was deserving of a raise. He'd bring that up to her later. When Lucifer wasn't around.
"Righty then~" Lysander patted Syn on the top of her cylindrical body making the eyes wiggle. Adam snorted. "So, who's fucking starving? Because I worked up an appetite last night slaughtering all those Sinners- you know- protecting the mansion and all that."
"I can conjure up something." Lucifer rubbed his forehead. "What do you want?"
"Fuck yeah! Pizza-bites!" Lysander already had something in mind. Adam scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What? You don't like pizza-bites?" Lysander turned to look at him a bit surprised.
"No, of course I do. But like... do we have to eat summoned food all the fucking time?"
"Do you want take-out, Adam?" Lucifer had already summoned up the box of pizza-bites and was holding it toward Lysander. "Because if you want that, you can pay for it yourself, princess."
"I mean it's better than summoned food. But you miss my point- can I have some of those by the way?" He looked over at Lysander who now had the box.
"Sure, mate. Imma go cook 'em up in the microwave." Lysander gave him a thumbs up before heading back into his room.
"What the fuck is wrong with summoned food?" Lucifer was glaring up at Adam, arms crossed. "Apparently it's not that bad since you're fine mooching off of Lysander."
"It doesn't taste as good as home-cooked. And it's not just you who had this problem. It's literally anyone who summons food. It's... fine... but it's never... great." Adam was at least going to give Lucifer that the problem wasn't just conducive to him. Any creature, angel or devil, who summoned food could never capture the nuance and array of flavors.
"I think it's you who has the problem." Lucifer looked rather annoyed. "I have been summoning food since before you were a concept, and I promise you it is not only great it is divine."
"It's really not. Why do you think Charlie liked Cain's cakes so much? I mean, aside from the fact that he is literally amazing at anything he does- but he bakes. He makes food from scratch, and there is a distinct difference."
"There's no fucking difference, except for the fact that cooking leaves room for error." Lucifer replied flatly. "So, either you get something roughly the same, or you get something infinitely worse."
"Well then," Lysander came back out with the pizza-bites on a little plate. "I think one of you should put your money where your mouth is."
"I don't bet with employees." Lucifer seemed unamused by the entire concept. Adam smirked.
"Cause you know you'd lose. Hey, it's fine to be a fucking pussy so long as you can admit it."
"Okay you want to play that game?" Lucifer whirled around to face Adam. Perfect. He never could resist a challenge. "If I win, you have to clean my workshop." Adam cringed a bit at the thought. Of all the rooms in the mansion, the workshop was by far the worst when it came to ducks, leftover food, and other garbage neglected by Lucifer in his depressed state. Adam didn't even like being in the workshop, the idea of cleaning it up made his skin crawl.
"Okay. Fine. But if I win, I want a raise." Sure, he could go behind Lucifer and bother Syn for one, but this would set a good precedent for Adam to slowly increase his pay over time. Lucifer looked annoyed.
"A raise? You barely fucking work!"
"I do stuff sometimes." This was true. Adam had gradually been picking up things as they started to bother him. The mansion was, overall, noticeably cleaner since his arrival. He wasn't doing it because he was the maid, because that was just a bullshit title Lucifer had given him to bruise his ego. No, Adam would only do enough to assure he got paid and to clean up the areas he liked to frequent. Just because Lucifer had given up didn't mean Adam had consented to be crushed under a thousand ducks.
"No raise." Lucifer was putting his foot down. (Probably because he knew Adam was going to win.) But that was okay. Adam had other ideas.
"I want a golden guitar."
"A what now?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. It seemed that the realization hit him because after a second, his eyes narrowed. "Is this about that whole incident in Georgia, because let me tell you, Johnny embellished everything. That isn't how that went down, at all. I actually still have the golden fiddle."
"Really? Because I heard you got your ass beat real bad." Adam grinned down at him. Lucifer was thoroughly unamused.
"Not true. And why the fuck would you get a golden guitar for a cooking competition? If anything, you'd get like... a golden frying pan or some shit."
"A golden frying pan would be terrible for cooking. It would stain. I would be too afraid to use it." Adam protested. This clearly demonstrated the Devil's knowledge (or lack thereof) when it came to the culinary arts.
"You could keep it as a trophy." Lucifer summoned up a series of golden cooking utensils. "I'll even throw in a golden spatula and a golden stand-mixer."
"I feel like that would throw off the flav-"
"Do you want fucking prizes or not?"
"Okay. Fine. I mean, just beating your ass is a prize to me."
"So, no golden stand-mixer for you." Lucifer went to grab it out if the air where it was floating but Adam quickly batted his hand away.
"Hey now you already offered it." If anything, Adam could sell the stuff (or more accurately have Lysander sell it for him) so that he could save up to buy his own guitar. He felt... empty without one. "Why do you care so much about what my prizes are if you're so confident that you'll win?" Lucifer pulled his hand back as Adam made a point. He shrugged his shoulders.
"You know what? You're right. I'll even give you these one-of-a-kind golden cooking tongs."
"Still feel like those would stain. They don't even have a rubber handle. They'd burn my hand." Adam grumbled it under his breath. But Lucifer was right, these were clearly items of pure aesthetic.
"I can judge!" Lysander offered through a mouth full of pizza-bites. Adam quickly grabbed a handful off the plate as he had no desire to let Lysander devour them all. He had been promised some, and he would need energy to compete.
"Dude you can't judge, Lucifer's your boss." Adam didn't want the odds stacked against him.
"I mean, sure, but I am also the only one here who can eat and isn't actively competing."
"He has a point." Lucifer gave a smug little smile. "And if you make sure I win, there is more paid time off in your future."
"Hey!" Adam whirled around. "No! It has to be a blind taste test. You can't know who made what."
"I mean it will be obvious, mine will be the most beautiful and decadent meal ever created. And you will have... burned toast." Lucifer was seemingly feeling more like himself, judging by the pure elitism dripping from his voice.
"I am actually a very good cook. So, fuck you." Adam retorted, crossing his own arms.
"Sure, you are." Lucifer chuckled. "Well, I am going to enjoy my relaxing morning. You just let me know when you finish putting your potatoes in water so I can create a grand feast." He tapped his cane on the floor, his top hat appeared on his head and he walked past Adam, making sure the coat tails smacked him on the way out.
"Wait!" Adam chased him down. "You have to get rid of Quackers first! I need access to the kitchen!"
"That's on you~" Lucifer didn't even break his stride. "This is your silly competition, after all. But don't worry, I'm sure he will tire himself eventually. I mean, his battery was only good for a few millennia."
"That's not fair!"
"Adam," Lucifer came to a stop at last "I'm literally the devil, my dude. Of course it's not fucking fair."
"You know what? That's on me I should have expected that." Adam's eyes were still narrowed, but in all honesty, Lucifer had a point. This was pretty on-brand for him.
"Can I judge too?"
"You don't even eat-" Adam started to protest, but Lucifer cut him off.
"Of course you can."
"I will vote for Master!"
"Oh come on!" Great. Adam's only saving grace would be Lysander and he had once seen the Hellborn eat a three-day old sandwich that had been left out on the counter. Clearly there was no one with any actual taste. He might as well give up now. But- he wouldn't give Lucifer the satisfaction. The Devil would need the flavor of Adam's cooking to get the bitter taste of defeat out of his mouth.
"I would say good luck, but we both know it would take divine intervention to save you at this point. And I don't think anyone from Upstairs is willing to save your ass when you're down here." Lucifer patted Adam on the arm, pretending (unconvincingly) to be empathetic.
"I am going to win." Adam wasn't going to lose this easily. He was the First Man after all. He had to deal with bigger challenges than this after Lucifer had gotten him ousted from his home. In fact, it was only after Eden that Adam had learned the cooking skill.
"Oh, I like my ducks organized by color and functionality." Lucifer wasn't backing down.
"Eat shit." Adam turned to head toward the kitchen.
"I mean, I will probably have to later when you plate it." Lucifer called after him. Adam didn't have the time to come up with a creative response, so he stuck up the middle finger on his silhouetted hand as he rushed down the hall toward the kitchen. His first trial and he wasn't even holding ingredients.
Quackers.
The duck. The beast. The legend.
The yellow, feathery monstrosity stalked the kitchen like a warden in a prison. Somehow, Adam was going to have to get passed Quackers to check on the rest of the kitchen. He needed to know what ingredients he would have access to, and what appliances Lucifer had- though Adam typically had trouble with the higher-tech inventions. He did better with simpler devices.
Adam pressed his hand to the swinging door. He could see Quackers wheeling about, back and forth, making rounds through the kitchen. The duck was quick, but Adam was hoping that he was quicker. As soon as Quackers passed the door, Adam slid in, crawling, keeping low. Adam inched his way to the refrigerator. He waited for Quackers to turn away before he pulled the door open just slightly. It was a massive fridge, one that was capable of storing enough food for a small town. And yet...
It was entirely fucking empty.
Really?
"QUACK!"
"AH SHIT!" Adam had lingered too long. Quackers had circled around and spotted him peeking in the fridge. Immediately the adorable duck head with the rosy cheeks, split open to reveal the gaping maw of rotating blades.
"QUAAAAAAAAAACK!" The ground seemed to rumble as Quackers let out another, bellowing cry. Adam was instantly on his feet, bolting toward the exit.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"
"QUACK!" The wings had withdrawn as well and were replaced by blowtorches, because apparently, in Lucifer's sick ass mind, that had seemed like a good idea at some point. Adam narrowly dodged getting roasted alive as he pushed through the swinging double doors and slid into the hallway.
As Adam was catching his breath, he was greeted by the sound of applause and cheering. He blinked, looking around in confusion before he noticed Syn floating over his head. He narrowed his eyes. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or genuine with your clapping."
"I thought you were most impressive in your escape!" Coming from Syn, it could actually have been a genuine compliment. Adam was willing to take it at face value. (Even though she would inevitably betray him in this competition.)
"Thank you." He watched as the door slowed down in its swing and he could see Quackers reverting back to his normal state. "I don't suppose you can talk to him? You know, invention to invention." He was going to say machine to machine but calling Syn a machine seemed weirdly cruel. She had more personality than some of the Winners Adam had dealt with over the years.
"I am forbidden from assisting in any way, shape, or form. My apologies." It was a bit difficult to take her apology seriously with her massive googly eyes and big, construction paper lashes. "But I am here to record your epic failure! As per Master's orders!"
"Of course you are." Adam rolled his eyes. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he hadn't just expected this. It was something he would have done, had the roles been reversed. Still, he chose to be offended. Lucifer didn't think he could do this and that just made Adam all the more determined. He hadn't cooked in years. Which was unusual, given that he actually really enjoyed the hobby. He had just been so busy with the Exterminations and the Exorcists that he had kind of lost himself in the process. It was almost nice to have time to himself again- almost. (Though, he was still trapped in Hell with the literal Devil, so the fact that there was a Brightside at all was impressive.) "Well, you can tell your master that this is just a simple setback."
"I will send the memo! Is there anything else you would like to add to the message before it is sent?"
Oh. They were sending like an actual message. Okay. That hadn't been Adam's original plan, but he could work with it. "Yes, please. Tell him to fuck himself."
"Sending message!"
"Thank you." Adam crouched back down to look at Quackers once again. The fridge was a bust. But there was still the freezer and the pantry that needed thorough investigations. (There was also the matter of actually using anything in the kitchen, but that was a bridge Adam would have to cross when he reached it.) He waited for Quackers to pass by once again. Turning, he put his finger to his lips, signaling Syn to be quiet. The googly eyes slid up and down as she tilted herself forward and back in what Adam assumed to be, a nod. He hurried on the ground again, keeping low until he reached the absolutely massive freezer that almost matched the fridge in sheer size and volume. He carefully, soundlessly cracked the door open. There was... a single box of frozen apple pies. He reached up, grabbing the box. It looked like they had expired over a year ago- they were probably shit anyway. He noticed the Cain Organics logo at the bottom. (On second thought, they were probably fantastic. Or at least they would have been had they been eaten in a timely manner.)
"QUACK!"
"SUNNOVABITCH!"
Time was up. In an instant, Quackers was barreling toward him. Adam threw the box of expired, frozen pastries in hopes to deter the monstrosity hurtling across the kitchen in his direction. The box, and its contents, we're completely shredded by the whirling mass of spinning blades that occupied the space where at one time Quackers's head had been. Adam ran at full speed back toward the doors, ducking as f from one of the blowtorches attempted to fire over him. Adam fell, rolling out of the door, his wings popping out and wrapping protectively around him.
"A most impressive exodus!" Adam was greeted by more of the pre-recorded applause as Syn was waiting for him back in the hallway. He carefully unfurled his wings from around himself, trying to catch his breath. That had been a little too close for comfort.
"Thanks." Adam sat up, watching Quackers return to normal before the swinging door steadied to a full close. "Hey is there no fucking food in this house?" It might not be worth venturing to the pantry if Syn could give him a complete rundown on his resources.
"I do not know."
"Can you go look?" He doubted Quackers would bother Syn. She didn't really make noise and she was so tiny he doubted she'd be noticed.
"I am forbidden from assisting in any way, shape, or-"
"Or form. I get it." Adam took a deep breath. There had to be something in the house. Lysander had to eat, right? Adam knew that the security intern barely interacted with Lucifer prior to Adam's arrival. So, there was no goddamn way that Lucifer was conjuring up snacks at the rate Lysander liked to eat. The pantry had to be where the food was actually kept. "Keep an eye out for me, I'm going back in."
"I cannot do that."
"I know. But also, if I get cut, your Master wouldn't like that. So, the least you can do is give me a heads up if Quackers throws a knife."
"I suppose that makes sense."
"Thank you." Adam crouched back to the ground, peering through the door, waiting for Quackers to go through his usual rounds before he darted into the kitchen making a B-line toward the pantry. Suddenly, over the sound of his own pounding heart, he heard the distinct sound of googly eyes rolling around. He slowly turned, frantically gesturing for Syn to hold still. (He hadn't realized she had followed him in. She had been content last time to stay in the hall. Wasn't she afraid if Quackers?)
"QUACK!"
Too late.
The district sound of Syn's new eyes had somehow elicited the attention of the kitchen abomination. Adam realized that there was no clear path toward the hall- not this time. He dodged behind the counter as flames shot forward. The sleeve of his robe knocked over a salt shaker. Well, that was a Quackers problem now. Maybe it would slow him down. Adam kept running to the pantry opening the door long enough for he and Syn to slip inside before shutting it, putting his back against it. Maybe Quackers would forget about him since he wasn't visible.
There was an intense feeling of heat against Adam's back and he could faintly hear the roar of the blowtorches from behind the pantry door. Adam turned to see no damage.
The fuck was this door made out of?
Ah well, at least he had time.
"Hurray! We are trapped!" Syn played her applause sound again.
"That is not a good thing, Syn." Adam took a moment to breathe. It was a bit difficult to calm his nerves with the sound of screeching quacks and whirring blades on the other side of the door.
"Oh."
"Okay," Adam cracked his neck. "Let's see what we have." There was a lot on the various shelves, but it all looked rather... old. Things were sealed properly, nicely stored away. This couldn't have been by Lucifer's hand. (Adam knew there had been staff that worked in the mansion prior to Lucifer's depressive spiral. It made sense that they were the ones who had stocked the pantry. But it didn't look like the place had been touched for years.)
"Did you find something delicious?"
"Most of this can't be used anymore..." he really would need to find a way to distract Quackers and clean this place out. It was just depressing. "Some of it can, but I'm going to need to actually buy shit." He couldn't exactly walk into a grocery store. Not without Lucifer. Adam knew there was still a pretty price on his head and he didn't feel like Lucifer would be all that inclined to help him. He could force the issue by just walking outside without any concern in regards to his Corruption. But then Lucifer might get hints of what he was trying to make. No. Adam couldn't give the Devil any sort of advantage. He would need to figure this out alone. Adam shoved his hands in the deep pockets of the robe.
Or! Maybe he wouldn't need to be alone after all.
Adam pulled out his phone. He really didn't have much use for it since the only people he interacted with daily all lived together. But he did have a number he could call! If... he would answer.
Adam had done a lot of research (and by research, he of course meant snooping) to find Cain's number. But if anyone knew how to help him get ingredients, it was the little boy he had taught to cook.
Adam took a deep breath and dialed the number.
"This is Cain."
"Cain! Hey it's dad-"
"Nope."
"Wait, wait, wait! Don't hang up!" Adam was desperate. "I am trapped in a pantry and I am just trying to show cooked food is superior to summoned food!" Adam tried to get all his words out as quickly as possible before Cain had the time to end the call. There was a moment of silence and Adam wasn't sure if Cain had already hung up. He tentatively peeked at the phone. It said the line was still connected.
"Okay. You have three minutes. Explain."
"I am trapped in a pantry because there's this thing in the kitchen-"
"Quackers. Yeah. I fucking know about him. I just use my own kitchen. But he's not relevant. Now, what's this about food? Two minutes."
"Lucifer insisted that summoned food tastes just as good as home-cooked and you and I both know that's fucking bullshit. So, I am proving it to him in cooking competition. If I win, I get shitty gold cookware but I also prove a point."
"Why would anyone want gold cookware? It'll fucking stain. Especially the shit he makes. It probably doesn't even have an insulated handle."
"It doesn't! I said the same thing!"
"One minute."
"I need your help getting ingredients. That's all! Then I'll leave you alone."
"I highly doubt you'll leave me alone." The annoyance in Cain's voice was quite evident. There was a long pause before Cain spoke again. "But," he heard his son sigh, "I would love to prove that point to his royal Fuck-Ass. I have been arguing the same thing for years. I tried to challenge him too, but he said it wouldn't be fair to put me out of business with his skill."
"What a bitch.
"I know, right?" For a moment, there seemed to be a hint of laughter in Cain's voice. "I'll help you. But you had better fucking win."
"You know I'm a good cook."
"I know you are. Which is why I am helping. If you win this, it's a moral victory for me. Also, I want one piece of the golden cookware. It's probably useless, but I am going to hang it up in my office as a trophy."
"I can even let you pick which one you want." Adam wasn't married to any of the glittering pieces Lucifer had showed him, and even if he was- that all went out the window when Cain was involved. This was the longest conversation Adam was able to have with his son since the First Man had died. He had to win now; Cain was counting on him.
"Send me a list of the ingredients you need and I'll send them to the mansion through Sinstacart."
"Through what now?"
"It's my app. You can buy food directly from me with it."
"You have an app!? Can I download it?" Adam wasn't great with apps, but he would learn for Cain.
"No. No, you cannot. You will use it to bother me. I don't know how exactly. But you will fucking find a way. Just text me the ingredients list and head to the door to get them."
"What about Quackers?"
"I mean run fast? The fuck am I supposed to do about Quackers?"
"Right. Okay. Thanks for the help!" Adam paused for a moment before adding, "I love you..." quietly, almost under his breath.
"Just give me the fucking list." This time the line went dead. Adam took a deep breath. He was shaking worse after talking to Cain than he was after escaping Quackers. "
That went well, right?" Adam looked at Syn for confirmation.
"He hung up on you!" She gave a cheerful reply, flipping in the air.
"Yeah. But not immediately." Adam was taking wins where he could find them. He sat on the floor for a moment, surveying what was salvageable in the pantry. There wasn't much. But that was okay, Adam had Cain for backup. He thought for a moment about what he wanted to cook. Breakfast. Everyone loved breakfast food, that was universal- maybe even multiversal. Also, Adam made a mean set of pancakes back in Heaven that were so fluffy and sweet the clouds would get jealous. He listed out the ingredients for the pancakes, adding bacon for himself and Lysander, and tofu bacon for Lucifer. Vegetarian or not, he was going to eat his words along with Adam's deliciously fried bacon.
He sent the list to Cain and received a simple thumbs up in return. Adam quickly and excitedly responded with a heart but that was left on read.
Ah well.
Adam had bigger things to worry about than his own heart being shattered. Quackers was still attempting to incinerate the door. (How much fucking fuel did those flamethrowers have? God help the unfortunate soul that broke into Lucifer's mansion and stumbled into the kitchen.)
"Any ideas, Syn?"
"I am forbi-"
"Fuck it. Forget I asked." Adam searched around him for anything to use as a weapon. He found a baking sheet. It was large enough to use as a shield. He would need oven mitts to hold it when it heated up from the flames. There was an oddly cute pink pair that most likely belonged to the previous chef. Those would do. He grabbed a frying pan to try and have some sort of way to fight back. This was probably going to fail. But since Adam highly doubted Quackers qualified as an angelic weapon, even if he did die, he would come back. And the only real inconvenience would be to his time- and also to Lucifer who would have to clean up the bloodshed. (Unless he made Adam do it. Or unless Adam got incinerated. Then Adam would be the only one suffering.)
Fuck it.
Cain was counting on him.
Adam kicked the door open and immediately hid behind the tray as the fire hit straight on. Thankfully Adam was able to deflect, but the metal was too hot to hold, even with the oven mitts. He managed to dart out of the range of the fire as he hurried toward the exit. He was facing toward Quackers, aiming with the frying pan to hit him right in the center of that buzzing maw of knives, but Adam lost his footing before he could get the throw in. He looked quickly to see the salt shaker he had knocked over in his initial run come back to fucking haunt his ass. His wings came out as he held the pan in front of him as if it would do anything as Quackers descended upon Adam like the eleventh fucking plague with an ominous, booming quack.
"WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!?" Adam tried to shout over the sound, readying himself for the inevitable burning or stabbing pain. But... nothing happened. Quackers was stopped, inches from the frying pan in front of Adam's face.
"Quack."
"H... huh?" Adam's heart was pounding so loudly he almost didn't hear the response.
"Quack!" Quackers spoke again, this time with more emphasis, spitting a spot of oil onto the pan.
"Y... yeah... okay." Adam had no idea what the proper response was. Or if this was even a conversation.
"QUACK."
"Y... you don't say?" Adam's wings parted a bit as Quackers's face returned, the monstrous spinning blades withdrawing. The flamethrowers retreated back into Quackers and were replaced by the wings once more.
"Quack, quack quack quack, quack quack quack." Quackers was really starting to monolog. Adam carefully started to stand up, watching the Demonic duck carefully for any signs of aggression, but Quackers just continued to quack at him.
"I... I see..." Adam responded when there was a lull in the quacking. Was this a conversation? Or was Adam just hallucinating again. He touched the counter with his hand. It felt pretty solid. (Also, this was pretty lackluster for a hallucination.) Quackers quacked at him a little longer before stopping again. Adam nodded his head. "Yeah, that sounds... really tough." He had no idea what Quackers had said, but it seemed like he just wanted to vent.
"Quack."
"Bro, I feel ya."
"Quack."
"Yeah, it's hard out there for a duck." Adam carefully reached for the salt shaker, putting it back on the counter. Quackers was watching him, but made no moves to stop him.
"Quack."
"So... um... you mind if I do some cooking?" Adam gestured around him. He wasn't sure why he was bothering with the demonstration. Quackers seemed to be able to understand him just fine.
"Quack." And with that, Quackers turned from Adam and resumed his pacing.
"Fucking sweet. Thanks, dude." Adam walked leisurely toward the door, still keeping a careful eye on Quackers but the duck seemed disinterested in him now. Huh. He had no idea how he did it, but the Quackers situation was handled. Not a moment too soon as Adam got a message from Cain on his phone.
Cain [12:23 PM]: stuff is at the mansion. Pick it up or someone will steal it.
Adam [12:24PM]: on it! Thank you so much! You are an amazing son!
And left on read again. Hurtful, but Adam had to keep moving. He had a competition to win and a son to impress.
He hurried toward the mansion door, throwing it open only to be met with an imp weighed down in groceries. "There you are." The imp started shoving the bags at Adam not even waiting for a response. "Get your shit."
"Oh, yeah, thanks." Adam put the bags to the side so he could grab them before this imp dropped them on the ground in their rush. "You uh... you work for my son?" Adam was always intrigued to see any of Cain's employees. He had missed so much of his life- well- afterlife that he was grasping at any crumbs of information he could weasel out. "Cain, I mean."
"Yeah. What of it?"
"O-oh, nothing, just... you know, tell him thanks for me."
"You betchya! Because you know that I- a delivery driver- absolutely talk face to face with the fucking CEO." The imp shoved the last bag at Adam. "You are really goddamn stupid, you know that? Is that why you're kept locked up?"
"I'm not locked up-"
"Didn't ask. Don't care." The imp didn't wait for Adam to finish before closing the door in his face. Cool. He was making a great impression on all of Cain's employees. At least it didn't sound like this particular employee had a lot of contact with Cain himself. So, Adam's reputation was no more wounded than it had been before this interaction. The First Man sighed as he grabbed the bags, carrying them to the kitchen. It was going to take multiple trips. He had needed a lot. And that was on Lucifer.
Just another hurtle.
"What are you making?"
"I'm not telling you." Adam continued bringing things into the kitchen. Occasionally, Quackers would look over at him and give a quack of commentary, but it really seemed as if Adam was safe.
"Why not?" Syn sounded genuinely confused.
"Because you're on his side." Adam started putting things away. He was really going to have to ask Lysander about Sinstacart because this kitchen was so barren Adam was surprised he didn't see Famine wandering about in the pantry. Lucifer would need more than just the ingredients for breakfast. "And if you tell him what I'm making it gives him more time to plot against me."
"Aww."
"Sorry Syn. All's not fair in a competition with the Devil."
"That is okay. I will just watch."
"Suit yourself." Adam got to work. There was so much to be done, and while he wasn't exactly on a time limit, he was hungry. He liked to make things from scratch, too, so he needed to get started.
Quackers would occasionally wander over, Adam wasn't sure why, but it almost seemed to be out of an odd sense of curiosity. He would give Adam a quack that either was approving or threatening, Adam couldn't entirely decide. Quackers would get mad, however, when Adam would leave the grocery bags or any sort of item in Quacker's rolling path. That would earn Adam a hissing series of quacks until he moved said item. But otherwise, the cooking was uneventful. Adam did have a bit of difficulty figuring out Lucifer's kitchen equipment, but it wasn't too, too terrible.
He attempted to wipe the flour off his cheek, but only proceeded to smear it more as he finally finished up. He had five plates of fluffy pancakes, dripping with a crème brûlée flavored sauce. He had toast with homemade raspberry jam, bacon, eggs ranging from scrambled to hard boiled, and he even had freshly squeezed some orange juice to top everything off.
"That looks... interesting?"
Okay, so Adam, plating wasn't perfect, but if Syn had a nose, she would have been doing flips from the sweet aroma. "It tastes amazing. Trust me."
"I will alert Master!"
"Let me."
"Sending message to Master! Speak when ready!"
"Hey fuck face. I hope you're ready to taste a humiliating defeat with a side of delicious breakfast food."
"Message sent."
"Perfect." Adam started bringing the plates out one by one, setting them on an ornate dining table that looked as if it hadn't been used in centuries. It wasn't long before Lucifer materialized looking annoyed.
"How the fuck did you get past Quackers!?" He stopped for a moment, sniffing the air. "This is takeout."
"No fucking way. Syn will tell you I made this all myself. Except the toast. The bread was pre-made. I don't have the time to make a loaf from scratch. Which is a shame because I have a Challa French toast that made Uriel cry."
"Okay, now I know your bullshitting me because Uriel has no fucking feelings. None of the Archangels do."
"Adam did make everything! I have the video to prove it! I also have much video of him almost dying to Quackers."
"Save anything funny with Adam running from Quackers. I'll watch it later when I enjoy my victory bath." Lucifer nodded.
"You'll need that bath to wash off the stench of being a loser. And that has nothing to do with the results of the competition. That's just your usual, repugnant odor." Adam smirked. "And just so you know, Quackers and I are cool now." To prove a point, Adam walked in the kitchen, grabbing another plate and bringing it out.
"Did you fucking kill Quackers?" Lucifer ran into the kitchen to see for himself. There was a horrible, booming QUACK as Quackers came charging toward the Devil, face retracting into the rotating blades. Lucifer quickly vanished and reappeared back in the dining room. Adam watch as it appeared Lucifer had... misjudged the distance? The Prime Evil was levitating a few feet off the ground before falling on his ass. Adam didn't even bother trying to stifle the laugh.
"Nailed it."
"Shut the fuck up." Lucifer picked himself back up, grabbing his hat that had fallen off. "Syn, get Lysander so we can get this over with."
"Yes Master!"
"You ready to have your tastebuds wowed? If you thought Cain's cooking was great- well it still is- but I taught him everything he knows." Adam put all his plates together, away from Lucifer who was getting ready to summon his own rendition of Adam's meal. He didn't want his carefully prepared food to be caught in the crossfire.
"Bullshit. I know he learned from Eve."
"Wait, what?" Adam blinked. "D... did he tell you that?" That was a blow to his ego. He really enjoyed the time he and Cain had spent together learning what plants could be utilized for better flavor.
"No." Oh thank fuck. "But I mean, it's pretty fucking obvious."
"Evie hated cooking, as a matter of fact."
"Can you shut up? I'm trying to summon."
"I could keep talking just to throw you off. But unlike you I don't need to cheat to win." Adam took a seat, making a zipping motion across his lips. Lucifer rolled his eyes, lifting up his hands and summoning a massive feast of roast duck, cranberry sauce, and all the trimmings. Adam blinked. "That's not what I made."
"Yours was too simple." Lucifer looked almost... flustered? If Adam didn't know any better, he'd think this was some kind of accident. "But fine. I don't need to crush you too badly. You'll cry all over my things when you clean the workshop." Lucifer flicked his wrist and the food vanished. He snapped and...
Nothing.
He snapped again.
Nothing.
Adam looked over at Lucifer whose cheeks were starting to tint gold, not out of humiliation but rather... frustration? "Hey Lucifer are you-"
"AH HA!" Perfect pancakes appeared on their own plates. "I was just fucking with you, dickwad. I can't believe you thought I was struggling with something this easy. Can you imagine?" Lucifer was laughing as he took his seat at the head of the table. Adam had to admit, aesthetically, Lucifer's were perfect. Not a flaw in sight. But this wasn't about look. It was about taste.
"Awe yeah. In a cooking competition the real winners are the judges!" Lysander came in, not a moment too soon. Adam started putting the plates out so there were two at each seat. Syn took the seat beside Lucifer; Lysander took the seat beside Syn. Adam shrugged and sat on Lucifer's other side.
"Make this quick so Adam can get to cleaning." Lucifer had his cheek in his hand.
"I vote for Master!" And with that, Syn face-planted into the pancakes. They were actually the ones Adam had made, but he wasn't going to say anything because Syn instantly repeated the process and flopped into Lucifer's pancakes.
"One vote for me." Lucifer smirked.
"Syn doesn't even have a mouth!"
"Adam, she's still a part of this team." Lucifer looked back at Lysander who was taking his time sampling each part of each dish. He stopped for a moment then held up the plate Adam had made.
"This is fucking amazing. This wins."
"HA! EAT SHIT!" Adam jumped up excitedly, but Lucifer grabbed his arm, pulling him back down into his seat.
"Nuh uh. That's a tie."
"How is that a tie!? Syn doesn't count!"
"Syn counts because she voted for me. We need a tie breaker. And I have just the unbiased source." Lucifer clapped his hands and a second Lucifer appeared. "Me!"
"No." Adam shoved his hand through the clone and it vanished. Huh. That one wasn't very durable. Usually, those things could take quite the hit.
"Well, I don't see you coming up with any ideas." Lucifer put his cheek back in his hand. "And don't say Quackers. He doesn't eat."
"Neither does Syn!"
"Yes, but he might vote for you. And we can't have that."
"Fine." Adam needed to win. But who in Hell of all places, would be able to give an honest opinion? Oh. "Charlie."
"What?" Lucifer had been eating his own pancakes but spit them out the moment Adam spoke.
"What about Charlie?"
"My daughter. You think she wouldn't be bias?"
"I mean, fuck, she's less bias than Syn."
"Charlie hasn't even met Syn yet. Or gone into the house... more than just the front foyer and I-"
"I cleaned up the house decently enough." Adam gave a shrug. "Or are you just worried she'll like my stuff better?" Lucifer was quiet for a moment, but eventually let out a long breath, pulling out his phone.
"Fine." He dialed quickly. "Hey bitch!" Adam raised an eyebrow at Lucifer's choice of greeting. He could vaguely hear Charlie talking on the other side. "No, no, no, no, no. "I mean... kinda. But it's not a Redemption lesson. It's more like... proving a point. Can you come to the house? If not, it's fine, but I would love your input." He was quiet again for a second. "Yeah, you can actually come in. In fact, you'll sort of have to." Hopefully, Charlie was as honest as she preached, "Perfect! Love you, crabapple! I'll see you when you get here!"
"So why do you call her bitch?" Adam was trying not to focus on the fact that when the actual Devil said I love you to his child, that he didn't immediately get the call ended. Yeah. That stung.
"That's our thing. It's a thing we do."
"It is because he blindly panics!"
"That's enough, Syn!" Lucifer let out a series of nervous laughs. "Syn! FUCK" he grabbed the little cylinder with both hands. "WHY ARE YOU STICKY!?"
"I ate pancakes."
"Right." Lucifer's eyes cast downward for a moment. Adam was enjoying watching him struggle when something caught his eye. Golden fleck on Lucifer's coat collar. That was... odd. "Well Syn, I have a SUPER important job for you! It's in this closet!" Lucifer hopped up and ran to a hall closet, throwing Syn inside and shutting the door.
"Dude, why the fuck did you do that?" Adam followed behind him, trying to get a better look at the golden specks. As Lucifer was facing the closet, hands on his hips, seemingly proud of his actions, Adam scooted to his side.
"Syn isn't ready to meet Charlie." Lucifer replied as a matter-of-factly. That was fair. Syn did like to loudly shout things about Lucifer's crippling depression. And, while Adam hated Lucifer, he understood not wanting to be humiliated in front of your child.
"Right." Adam blinked. Then blinked again. That was... odd. If Adam didn't know better, he swore he saw those tiny puncture wounds from his bite right on Lucifer's neck. (But he had watched that bite heal right in front of his eyes- well... eye.) It was hard to tell for sure, the collar partially obscured it. There were small almost unnoticeable drops of gold staining the shirt collar as well. No. Adam had definitely seen something. Adam reached to push the collar aside, to get a better look. The Devil caught his hand, holding his wrist tightly.
"Adam." Lucifer's tone was severe. "What are you doing?"
"I thought I-"
"Don't you have something else to do?"
"Right..." Adam wouldn't push. Not with Charlie on the way. But he knew what he saw. As soon as Charlie left, he would have to ask about it. Lucifer couldn't get sick. Because, as much as the Fallen hated to admit it, Adam needed Lucifer right now. If the Devil died, the First Man was royally fucked.
A/N: WOOO! Sorry it's so late! I'm busy with convention stuff for this weekend that I have had like NO time. But HERE IS THE CHAPTER! Better late than never!
