"One… two… three!"
Adam turns green as they start to lift him up. It's only a little funny, Lucifer thinks, because if he does get sick, he'll splatter it all over himself and his small helpers, so that would not be ideal. Not at all. Granted, Adam's been comatose for the past two weeks, so it isn't as if he's had any food to puke up…
Regardless. Not a fun happenstance to imagine, even if it's just bile.
The stupid comforter he's bundled in doesn't help make the process any easier, but Adam had protested immediately when anyone tried to take it from him. Lucifer gets it, he does, but it's so hard to stay sympathetic when the aforementioned First Man made himself even larger with the extra pounds of fabric, and simply refuses to stay still.
Charlie's girlfriend lets out a groan. "Fuck— ugh, Adam, stop moving so much!" She's holding up his bundled form from below as Lucifer hovers and grasps him from above. Spots of golden blood drip down from somewhere on Adam's body, just barely missing her.
This feels like deja vu - but this time, the First Man is not a limp body they can maneuver easily, but rather a very squirmy and cursing conscious asshole.
"Well, be more careful!" Adam snaps. "This hurts, you know!"
Finally, after what feels like multiple lifetimes, they deposit Adam onto his bed. Despite the soft landing, he cringes, refusing to meet either of their gazes as he presumably rides out a wave of pain.
"I'm, uh, going to grab Charlie," Vaggie says, rubbing the back of her neck. "She'll want to see him up and about, I think." It's probably code for 'I've spent too much time with Adam and I feel like I'm going to pull my hair out,' so Lucifer lets her go without any fuss.
"Sounds good, Maggie! Thanks!" he exclaims, flashing a thumbs up to her. As she leaves, he closes the door behind her and catches Adam staring at him when he turns back around. "...what?"
Adam's lips are pursed, and there's a sort of dull humor in his exhausted gaze. "Just… didn't realize you say Vadgie— Vaggie's name wrong, too."
Lucifer's eyes narrow at Adam's choice of name butchering, but he curiously notes the correction.
"Yeah, sometimes it's fun to play the 'Out of Touch Dad'," he admits. "I know her real name, and if she asks me to say it right, I will. You'd best keep doing that yourself." Of course, any politeness on Adam's end is probably just ass-kissing for self-preservation, but still.
"Whatever," Adam growls. In the quiet of the room, it's easy to hear his slight labored breaths, and the shuffling of the comforter as he seems to burrow into it even more.
Now that he's closer, Lucifer's able to get a better look at Adam's condition. Though the angel hides his body, his haggard face is an easy tell to how terrible he's faring - somehow almost as bad as when he woke up the day after the battle. He looks… washed-up, huge bags sinking under his bloodshot eyes and his lips dry and cracked. His skin has paled to a pallor close to Lucifer and Charlie's, though it's hard to tell under a film of dirt and crusted blood. There are a few lighter, conspicuous lines that trail down from his eyes - a very telltale sign that he'd been crying.
Lucifer doesn't know what to think of that. It certainly doesn't seem in-character for the First Man, given his cocky attitude, but torture can break even the haughtiest down. He's not about to point it out, either, because that's just lame - plus, Adam's poisoned enough with the toxic masculinity bullshit.
So he cried - who cares? Lucifer's a weeping mess at the littlest things! (He really needs to stay away from those dog movies, they just tug too much on the heartstrings, and if they're not reunited with their owners by the end of their journey—)
Oh. He'd drifted off in thought. He's still staring at Adam, who is scowling back at him.
"Take a fucking picture," the angel rasps. "It'll last longer."
Lucifer quirks a brow and steels his expression. "This isn't really a Kodak picture moment - unless you want to preserve what you look like right now?"
To his surprise, Adam doesn't rise to the challenge with some biting words or curses. He stares down at his lap, gritting his teeth. "…no," he mutters.
"Didn't think so." Lucifer summons a chair and sits near Adam's bed, huffing a huge sigh. Not really sure what to say, he just lets the first thought that crosses his mind out. "Sucks being in a new place with no friends, huh? Speaking from experience."
"You being sent here was your own damn fault, you apple-fucking cunt," Adam snarls. There's venom in it, but not nearly his usual amount.
"Ooh, an 'apple-fucking cunt'?" Lucifer snickers. "I've been called many things since my fall, but that's a new one, I think."
"Yeah? I have like a billion more that I've come up with over the years."
"Good to know you've been thinking about me since Eden!" The feeling is not mutual, however.
Truthfully, despite marrying the First Man's first ex-wife, Lucifer hasn't thought about Adam for ages. They'd been friends in that garden once, sure, but the apple destroyed any trace of a bond they'd had. Sometimes his name came up when discussing the Exterminations, but for the most part, the two of them had just lived their respective lives in their respective residences.
It wasn't until Charlie asked him for a meeting with Heaven that Lucifer remembered the First Man even existed. Though there's power in being a fallen angel, Lucifer only has so much influence with his former kind, and he had only heard about Adam in passing. The seraphim aren't above gossip, and when they'd agreed to let Adam handle it, Lucifer recalls catching a few gripes muttered under their divine breaths - something about being brash and using inappropriate language.
And when Lucifer finally saw the guy again, in the middle of a battle with Charlie in his vile hands, it all made sense. This clearly is not the same man he'd once sat in the garden with - and that is partially Lucifer's own fault.
The free will that Lucifer gave with that apple had corrupted Adam, made him something unrecognizable.
"You think I could forget the cunt that fucked up humanity itself?" the angel hisses. "And, more than that, someone I called a friend pulling what you did in that garden?"
Lucifer frowns. Yeah, giving humanity free will had been the right decision, and he'll always believe that - but he also has to acknowledge the one man caught in the crossfire of it.
Granted, it isn't like he intended to ever harm Adam in Eden - yes, he fell in love with Lilith, but she was never Adam's to own. With Eve, Lucifer truly thought the apple would be good for all humans, including Adam. The freedom to choose, to be aware of sin and the possibility of it in a human soul… wouldn't everyone want that?
Well… clearly not everyone.
"Adam… back then, I…" he trails off, unsure how to address this. It's probably not the right time, what with the hotel freshly rebuilt after Adam's destruction, and Adam himself freshly traumatized after Alastor's.
Thankfully, Adam seems more than okay with dropping it. "I don't want to talk about Eden anymore," he snaps. "That's over with. You ruined my life, and I'll hate you forever for it. Case closed."
"...Fair enough," Lucifer concedes with a shrug. He moves on and asks, "Now, are you going to let me see what's bleeding?" Yeah, he's got a bit of a condescending tone that he only would use with a child, but it's fitting.
Adam's eyes narrow. "Do I have a fucking choice?"
It is because of me that you have free will to make choices, Lucifer can't help but think, but he doesn't dare speak it. Though it would be very satisfying for a moment to point out, he has no interest in kicking a man while he's very, very down.
"You always have a choice," he says instead. "But you're already pretty hurt, so it's probably better to take care of any new wounds that arise, don't you think?"
"Lucifer." There's a seriousness to Adam's tone as he closes his eyes. He looks so tired as he mutters, "Don't be a pussy about this. If you're gonna fucking finish the job that smiling fucker started, just… finish it already."
The king sighs. "...no, I'm not gonna hurt you. Not when you're… like this."
It's hard to feel bad for the man who hurt his daughter, but… it's also hard to not feel bad, even if it's just the slightest bit.
Adam getting taken down a peg is supposed to be satisfying - but the method used took it too far, to barbaric depths. Lucifer will agree with his daughter on that one for sure. Whatever assumptions are made about him, the King of Hell can't condone torture; many of his residents can, obviously, but he never could - even for someone like Adam.
Now, admittedly… after seeing Adam choking Charlie, Lucifer had definitely been thinking of about a hundred bloody, violent ways the First Man would meet his death. But that's just it - any fantasies (or ideas…) always ended with death. Even imagining the worst possible things for his enemy to go through in that moment of deep hatred, Lucifer never even considered keeping Adam alive just to make him suffer more. In fact, when they found the angel all twisted and broken, he'd been the first to advocate for putting Adam out of his misery.
A million thoughts have crossed Lucifer's mind since then - and most of them, strangely, have a hint of guilt to them. Maybe if he'd had checked on Alastor after the fight fast enough, this all could've been avoided. He has the ability to locate his home's inhabitants for the most part… would it have stopped the mutilation? Would Adam now be dead-dead - slain in battle, not in agony, and most importantly, no one's burden?
The other man's hoarse voice once again snaps Lucifer out of his thoughts. "I don't want your goddamn pity. It makes my fucking skin crawl." He's got a real withering glare going on his bruised face.
"Well, too bad - you look pitiful," the king bites back, then softens his expression. "It's okay, you know - it was a pretty intense thing. Anyone would be weakened by what happened."
"Not me," Adam growls. "I'm better than that… or at least I should be." He looks unsure, like he can't even believe his own words, and it's a little saddening to see.
There's a pause, and Lucifer notices the wet stain on the comforter. Whatever's wrong with Adam, he's still bleeding. They should at least take care of that first.
"Do you want me to clean out whatever's going on there?" The king nods towards the wet spot, seeking direct permission.
"Why are you even bothering to ask? It doesn't matter what I want."
Lucifer frowns. That answer isn't as surprising as it should've been.
As pampered in Heaven as he was, Adam clearly has never had any problem voicing his thoughts and feelings. Even now, that's not an issue for him - he's expressed anger, discomfort, protest, and the like. However, when it comes to bodily harm, he's sounded pretty… resigned - like he's perpetually waiting to be hurt again.
Lucifer's no stranger to seeing how trauma imprints itself onto victims, manifesting in countless ways that highlight the damage. It's very common to feel utterly powerless afterward, with a lack of control and choice; after all, the cocky bellboy paid no attention to what Adam wanted while he was ripping him apart.
So right now, it's important to remind Adam that he has self-advocacy again, and he can make decisions - within reason, of course, as he's still being detained here, but he isn't going to be hurt anymore, and he can make choices for things like physical touch again.
Adam didn't want Lucifer touching him before, but it had been unavoidable in some situations. Now, there's no real threat (besides staining the pretty interior of his little girl's hotel…), so the king doesn't mind waiting for an answer.
"It matters. So, can I see?" Lucifer presses one last time.
Adam visibly hesitates, but his face is so washed-out and worn already, it's hard for even him to keep up the stubborn attitude. Finally, still shrouded by the blanket, he quickly sticks a hand out, revealing a messy golden palm.
Thin lines like a spiderweb trail all over the broken skin of Adam's hand. Embedded in the lines are broken bits of… glass? They shine almost as brightly as the continuous flow of gold blood leaking out.
Lucifer whistles. "How the hell did this happen? And where did you find glass?"
Adam looks away.
"I guess it doesn't matter," Lucifer replies with a shrug. He waves a hand, conjuring up a stainless steel medical tray and an assortment of medical supplies - the same kinds he always sees on all of Hell's best soap operas.
(What? It's not like he ever has to do first aid like this for real…)
He picks up a long pair of tweezers and some wipes, sitting down on the bed to get a good angle. "This might sting."
"I'm not some bitch, I can take it." Adam's voice is like gravel. "This is nothing."
"Yeah, I figured." After everything, getting glass plucked out of his hand must feel like a tickle. With no further ceremony, Lucifer presses the tweezers deep into the skin and yanks out a piece. Adam's hand twitches and it's clear he's uncomfortable, but he doesn't pull away or protest in the slightest.
There's a lot of glass, so it takes a while for Lucifer to dig most of the shards out. One by one, he puts the pieces on the tray, compiling them on a small, neat pile. As he pulls them out, he carefully wipes the blood away from Adam's palm.
Thankfully, it only takes a few minutes of awkward silence to get the area all cleaned, and then bandaged up, but it's still too long to be touching the First Man like this. It's too… gentle.
It's weird being gentle with Adam.
"Alright, all done," he announces, tying up the last bandage and pulling back. He stares at all the shiny, gold-encrusted fragments on the tray, shaking his head in exasperation and standing up to dump them in the trash.
However, clumsy as he is, he accidentally spills a larger shard onto the floor instead of the garbage can.
"Dumbass," Adam whispers under his breath.
"Har-har," Lucifer grumbles, bending down to pick it up. "Maybe if you didn't go around touching sharp objects like glass , this wouldn't— YEEOWCH! " With a startled cry, the king lets go of the piece, taking a step back away from it. "What the fuck?!" He inspects his hand, noting the slightest indents of a burn left on his palm.
The glass burned him? Fallen or not, the only thing that can harm an angel is…
"It's angelic steel," he breathes in disbelief, turning back to Adam. The angel had been sitting with burning bits of steel in his hand, and hadn't complained once as Lucifer dug them out? That's either a weird testament to Adam's strength, or proof that the wing removal trauma had drowned out all other pain for him.
Adam quirks a brow. "Yeah, no shit."
"I didn't use any of that to build your room. Where did you find it?" Had Lucifer somehow left a piece of a dagger or weapon in here? He doesn't remember doing that, but…
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ugh - back to being a stubborn asshole, Adam zigzags any direct answers.
Well, Lucifer would like to know, but Adam's already mentally withdrawing. If the subject changes, maybe they can get back around to the topic of the steel - and since he's already bandaging Adam up, he figures he might as well check on the rest of him.
"Can I look at your back?" he asks carefully. He notes the way Adam's fingers curl into the comforter just a bit tighter, how he hunches his shoulders a fraction higher. "I just want to see if we need to rebandage it. If it looks okay, I won't touch it," the king adds.
Whatever stubbornness fuels Adam like gasoline to a very loud obnoxious car seems to have fizzled out. He's obviously not in favor of the idea, but again that powerlessness shows its ugly face in the form of a shrug.
Slowly, the angel unfurls from the comforter, shedding it like snakeskin and letting it fall into the bed. His body looks just as marred as the last time Lucifer saw it, dappled with bruises and dirt and crusted blood. He needs a bath.
"I fucking hate you," Adam says, but he doesn't have to remind him.
"Uh huh. Turn around."
Adam slowly shifts his body. "I mean it."
"Oh believe me, buddy, I know." Looking closer at the wing wounds, they luckily haven't opened up again. Whatever he was doing to get his hand all cut up, it didn't affect the most tender of his injuries. His back is still bruised and torn, but the skin where his wings had been is tightly pulled together and sealed by two lumpy scars. It is not pretty to look at, and Adam's lucky that he can't see it, but it could be… worse?
"And I'm not your fucking buddy."
"I know that too. It's sarcasm, brainiac." God, you'd think thousands of years in literal paradise would've let a man expand his mind. Not so much for Adam, clearly. Lucifer leans back when he's done examining the wounds, giving the angel his personal space again. "Good news: you're not bleeding out. Everything looks alright back here - as much as it can be, anyway."
Adam's back twitches and he cringes, and it's not hard to tell he'd just subconsciously tried to sweep his nonexistent wings back. Lucifer can't even imagine how that feels; even when he'd fallen, he hadn't lost any part of his body.
Almost immediately after Lucifer steps away, Adam grabs the comforter and wraps himself back around in it, clearly keen on hiding his injuries. They're back to square one.
"If it's any consolation, I've seen your wounds since day one, and they are looking better," Lucifer admits. "It was partially my magic that helped keep you alive."
"What, do you want a thank you?" Adam huffs.
"I mean, we are doing a lot to help you out," Lucifer points out with a smirk. "It wouldn't kill you to be nice."
It's quiet and hoarse, but Adam actually laughs. "Nice? Suuuure, and why don't we all hold hands and sing showtunes and everything will be all ~happiness and rainbows~?!" he mocks, bringing his voice up a few octaves to mimic a certain princess. "Your snowflake spawn would just looooove that, wouldn't she?"
"Careful where you tread there, pal," Lucifer warns lowly, baring his teeth in a fake smile. "While I do feel bad about what happened to you, you'll find I'm not nearly as compassionate as Charlie. I don't forgive easily - certainly not for slaughtering my harbored residents, breaking our agreement, and attacking my little girl."
Adam's teeth gnash together. "Well it's a good fucking thing I'm not asking for forgiveness!" he yells. "I— I didn't do anything wrong!"
Lucifer doesn't miss the stutter of hesitation, which is interesting, but he doesn't comment on it. Adam looks downright pathetic as he keeps trying to stand his ground against the king, bruised face scrunched in an angry challenge that's often seen in cornered animals.
A pinch of guilt worms its way into Lucifer's heart again - which isn't really fair, because this man destroyed thousands of lives. Adam's not entirely to blame for the Exterminations though, because Lucifer himself did agree to them.
"Things got out of hand," he admits quietly. "But you broke a rule we agreed upon - you hurt Charlie. And I couldn't stand by and watch."
"She tried to stop our agreement," Adam growls. "That shouldn't have been allowed, either."
Lucifer sighs. "I see where you're coming from, but… sometimes laws need to be reevaluated to see if they're still relevant or necessary. If it was determined that sinners could be saved, wouldn't you want to give them the chance to?"
"No - they earned their spot in Hell. Those cunts deserve everything they get."
"But aren't they all your descendants? Not everyone down here is like Alastor." It's hard not to miss the First Man's grip tightening on the blanket at the name. "Some people are just… genuinely lost. Some are just humans that were dealt terrible cards from the start and did the best they could without a support system to help them. If we give them that support, can't they at least try to do better?
Trust me, I was thinking like you until very recently. These guys down here were all irredeemable in my eyes. But… Charlie helped open my mind a little. Maybe she can help open yours."
There's another minute of quiet, the words settling in the air before Adam mutters, "...fucking fat chance of that."
Well, Rome wasn't built in a day, and all that jazz. Lucifer lets that topic fizzle out; maybe one day, they'll get back into it, but for now he's closing the book on it.
He stands up off the bed, brushing off his coat. It's obvious his presence in the room is making both of them uncomfortable the more time goes on, so it's probably best if he leaves sooner rather than later - but he doesn't get the chance to, because Adam continues speaking.
"So are you assholes gonna actually give me clothes? Or am I supposed to stay half-naked?" He's speaking through his teeth, and it's very easy to see how much he hates the vulnerability of asking for something.
Lucifer pauses. "Tell you what," he says, "if you tell me where that angelic steel came from, I'll get you some fresh clothes - any type you want. Do we have a deal?"
The last word makes Adam's whole body react. He freezes, eyes widening as his pupils dilate and quick breaths leaving his trembling lips.
He's feverishly muttering to himself. "What the fuck… what do you take me for…? You think I'm that stupid…?"
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Lucifer waves a clawed hand in front of the other man's shell shocked face. "Snap out of it!"
Adam's gold irises slide back into focus. "No more deals," he growls, venom laced in his tone.
"I didn't mean like that," the king assures. "But now that it's been brought up, I have to ask - Alastor made you a deal for your wings, right? Why did you agree to it?"
"…the fuck do you mean?" Adam's brow crinkles in confusion. "I was half-dead."
"Well, even still - you gave your wings as leverage? Of all things?"
Adam's face just gets more bewildered, his lip curling in disgust. "You think I chose to give them up?" Anxiety sparks in his eyes as he hastily adds, "Did— did he say that? That I just let him? Because I— I didn't, I fucking didn't! I was lying there in so much goddamn pain, I could barely tell up from down. I couldn't hear the specifics of what he was saying, I just wanted it to stop hurting, so I said yes! Fuck, I didn't ask for this!"
It's so jarring, seeing the First Man once again in such a flustered and frightened state. Lucifer would much rather prefer Adam be his usual obnoxious self, because it's so much easier to hate him when he's like that. This Adam? Not so much.
The sight of the agitated angel is familiar in a strange way. When Charlie was little and would wake from a nightmare, she often pitter-pattered her way to her parents' room, her tiny eyes puffy and wet. Lucifer never hesitated to bring her up into his arms, shushing her fears away. It usually worked like a charm, and kept her from panicking until she fell back asleep.
Even if there wasn't a huge size difference, Lucifer would never hold Adam like that, but perhaps he can use some of those experiences with an anxious child to soothe the other man here.
At the very least, he can speak in the same tone.
"Easy," he murmurs softly. "I know you didn't. It's— it's okay." It is interesting that the terms of Alastor and Adam's deal don't seem consensual, or at least were formed under heavy duress on the latter's part. So much for Lucifer stressing free will when he first created the rules for Hell…
Adam catches his breath and slowly comes back to the present, his face losing its haunted shadow. He lifts his eyes to try to meet Lucifer's, but fails to keep contact and drops his gaze to his lap. Finally, he wets his lips and rasps, "Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
The angel rolls his eyes. "You… you fucker, you think I wouldn't recognize the Dad Look? I'm the first dad. Of course I can tell when someone's looking at me like I just pissed the bed or scraped my knee or something. I can practically smell the condescension."
Lucifer can't help but chuckle, as Adam isn't too far off from the truth there. Still, he can't resist: "Condensation? But we don't get morning dew here in Hell!"
Adam gives him the blankest glance - and for once, Lucifer's glad to see he's annoyed rather than mentally spiraling.
"Okay, okay - I couldn't help that dad joke. Or the 'dad look'. Because I'm also a dad," Lucifer chuckles sheepishly.
A brief silence settles between them. Adam looks like he's contemplating something, his eyes distantly staring at a corner of the room. "If— if you were serious, before," he begins quietly, "I want… A big fucking hoodie - one that can— could've… held my wings in them. Black jeans. Boots. And socks and underwear and all that shit too." He licks his lips and adds quietly, "And… I want what I tell you to stay between us. So… make sure you fucking do that or… or…"
"Hey, hey, no need to get out the threats," Lucifer says placatingly. "That's all fine with me. So, where did you find the angelic steel?"
Adam sighs deeply, his mouth hovering open in hesitation. Eventually, he croaks out, "…look, just before Vaggie came in, I… tried to get a shower. But when I stepped into the bathroom, that fr- freak must've interfered— the room was all mirrors, and he was in some of them. I- I could see everything he did to me, how fucking ug—!" He cuts himself off by biting his tongue, clearly not keen on showing this much openness to Lucifer. "I got angry. Punched the mirrors with his stupid face in them. One of them was made of angelic steel and I got the glass stuck in my hand."
The dots connect, and Lucifer suddenly gets a rush of indignation that isn't his to feel. Alastor is dangerous, that much is obvious, but the king hadn't taken him too seriously before. He'd regarded the Radio Demon as a manipulative Overlord that's clearly plotting something, but Lucifer had set aside the bad vibes he'd felt for Charlie's sake. Now, those vibes were on full display, and Alastor was treading on thin ice here now.
And it's not just about tormenting Adam - it's skirting around the rules Charlie had very clearly set in place. How far do orders from royalty go for the overzealous demon? Where's the line drawn? Does he think he can loophole his way through anything, and take what he wants?
Fuck that.
Adam studies Lucifer's expression and seems to draw his own conclusions. "You don't believe me, do you? I… he changed the room back. I can't prove it."
He probably shouldn't so easily, but Lucifer does believe him.
"No, that's pretty in-character for that guy," the king mutters. "That's… he shouldn't have been able to do that. I'll look into it."
"No!" Adam replies, a pinch of panic to his tone. "Don't— don't mention it to anyone else." He swallows hard and forces out, "...please."
Wow. Manners? That's new. This is desperation at its finest, isn't it?
Lucifer bites his lip. "But… if he keeps trying to fuck with you, you won't be able to do anything or go anywhere."
"Then I just won't do anything or go anywhere," Adam snaps back, a slight tremble running through him. "It's fucking fine, I'll just… stay right here."
"What, in bed for the rest of your afterlife? That won't work." For many reasons.
"If I have to," Adam growls stubbornly.
"I don't know if you've noticed, bud," Lucifer presses, "but you're absolutely covered in blood and dirt… and, well, you reek. If you're gonna use this hotel for shelter, you're going to have to get back in that bathroom and use the shower—"
"I CAN'T!"
Lucifer stiffens at the raw emotion in Adam's voice.
"I… I can't." Adam's teeth are clacked together as he forces the words out again. There's a deep frustration and reluctance in his gaze as he bows his head. He looks so uncomfortable admitting this, to his first and greatest foe no less, and it's kind of admirable that he actually manages to. "I… can't go back in there."
The fear in his voice is unmistakable. Adam's terrified of Alastor, and that's restricting him even further and preventing him from even fully moving around his own space. They're at a stalemate; no matter what Lucifer says or tries to promise, he can't see Adam believing anything he has to say - in fact, pretty words won't work here, as promises had already been accidentally broken.
So how can he ensure the mangled angel he'll be safe enough to step into the bathroom again…? How can Adam close that bathroom door without expecting a monster behind it?
Wait… door… that's it!
"Hold on… I've got an idea!" Lucifer exclaims, practically leaping to his feet. He can feel Adam's eyes on him, watching warily, as he opens the front door, rushes towards the hallway, and pokes his head out. "You out there, girl?" he calls, whistling. "C'mere, you sweet pretty little thing~!"
"...sheesh, not that they're right, but I can't believe people talk about me speaking down to women…" Adam mutters.
Rolling his eyes, Lucifer spots who he's looking for right around the corner - the "woman" that Adam thinks he's catcalling. Well, joke's on him - catcalling is actually for cats! It's right there in the name!
KeeKee shows her adorable one-eyed face, padding up to her master and rubbing at his legs affectionately. He lifts the cutie into his arms, rubbing her fur with his cheek, and walks back inside the room.
"Uh, what?" Adam sputters, looking puzzled. "Is that a goddamn cat?"
"It doesn't surprise me that you're not a cat person. They are very intelligent creatures that only trust good people, after all." Lucifer turns his non-existent nose up at the angel, huffing dramatically. "Anyway, you're in luck: this little darling may just be the protection and assurance you're seeking."
"What's a fucking cat supposed to do?"
"Adam, she isn't just a cat! Are you, my sweet KeeKeeKeeeee~?" Lucifer coos, holding the kitty like the baby she is. She purrs and slow-blinks her giant eye, melting his heart. "No no no, she plays a much more key role in this hotel! Hence the name KeeKee."
The First Man gives a snort of disbelief. "Really? What, is it the goddamn concierge or somethin'?"
"No!" Lucifer shifts KeeKee in his hands and holds her out towards Adam, who just stares wordlessly. Her torso and back legs hang loosely and she seems to stretch out to double her size. "She's the literal key! Show 'em, sweetie!"
On cue, the cat leaps out of his arms and transforms herself into her true form - a giant key - and settles into Lucifer's hand. He points her towards the First Man, the tip of the key just centimeters from his nose.
Adam stares in disbelief. "...okay, what the fuck was that?!" he squawks. "Your cat can turn into a Keyblade? Cool, that's badass, whatever - but that doesn't explain how the hell it's going to protect me—"
"Hey, Smartypants," Lucifer interrupts, "what are keys typically used for?"
"To open doors— oh." The gears in the angel's cobwebbed brain must be finally churning, because he starts to nod in understanding.
Lucifer gestures emphatically with the key. "Aaaand to lock them - which KeeKee can do. To any door in the hotel." He points to the bathroom. "Any door."
Adam blinks, his usual scowl disappearing as he thinks it over more. "You're telling me the cat can lock the fucking bathroom? With what, some magic bullshit?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"And no one can get in?"
"Right-o. It'll be completely sealed - unless there's an emergency, in which case I alone am allowed to unlock it with my unique magic. But KeeKee knows the drill." He weighs her key form in his hands, gently petting the metal as if it were fur. "Isn't that right, babygirl?"
In a flash of light, KeeKee transforms back into her cat form, hopping back onto the ground with a mrrp.
Adam stares down at her with a grimace. "Does it just do all that when you ask it?"
"To put it simply, yes - but there's a few stipulations here," Lucifer replies, holding up a finger for emphasis. "For starters, I'm limiting her to only your bathroom lock, so don't get any ideas about the front door."
Maybe they can work out some privacy hours if Adam stays indefinitely, but Lucifer doesn't feel like opening that can of worms just yet.
A smirk crosses the king's face as he continues, "KeeKee's a very sweet cat, but she doesn't oblige just anyone. Sure, she'll listen to me and lock the door tonight for your shower - but all the other times, you gotta ask her yourself. And whether or not she listens is up to how you treat her."
Maybe Charlie's rubbing off on him, but incentivizing kindness may be the right move here. Of course, Lucifer doesn't expect Adam to suddenly be a saint or anything, but… baby steps, right?
"So, basically, you're just giving me a fucking pet," Adam snorts.
"I am doing no such thing!" Lucifer exclaims. "Keeky-Weeky is the Morningstar family cat! She represents this hotel and all its ambitions! I would never give her to anyone, much less someone who, to my knowledge, still wants to destroy it all!"
The angel scowls. "So then the stupid cat's just gonna be allowed in here now? Is that it? And I gotta… ask it nicely to lock my bathroom?"
"In a nutshell. But I would hope that, with KeeKee coming in here, you'd be able to, y'know, make acquaintance with a creature in Hell that doesn't instinctively hate your guts." Make friends is what Lucifer really wanted to say, but he knows that's too much to ask for right now. Adam making a friend is like Charlie purposefully hurting someone - very, very slim chances, and pretty much goes against nature itself!
But it's killing two birds with one stone - Adam gets both a sense of security and someone to vent to.
"Think about it - she's not a sinner, and she's not a fallen angel. She's just… a key-cat! And you can talk to her." Lucifer gestures wildly with a big grin.
Adam doesn't look impressed. "I know I'm away from my girls right now, but you really think I'm that much of a lonely loser?"
Well, yes, Lucifer thinks, but he's not going to say it out loud. More than that, why is Adam the most argumentative guy ever ? "I don't think interacting with one animal will turn you into a crazy cat lady, but I guess we'll see."
"This is fucking stupid…" Adam groans, but doesn't outright reject the plan.
A knock on the door interrupts wherever that conversation was going, and Lucifer doesn't miss the way the angel flinches at the sudden noise. Another trauma response - there's no doubt he's constantly imagining Alastor showing up in every corner with that stupid smug smile.
Thankfully, though, it's only Charlie. She looks hesitant to enter, her red gaze fixed right on their 'guest,' but she eventually makes her way over to the bed with a small smile. "Hey again, Adam," she greets softly. "How are you feeling?"
Lucifer expects Adam to be nasty towards his daughter, but the First Man just shrugs and keeps his tone neutral. "Still shitty."
"Vaggie… told me you hurt your hand…" Charlie murmurs. "Are you okay?"
Wordlessly, Adam pokes his bandaged hand out of the blanket, eyes shooting over to Lucifer before flicking back to the princess.
"Oh, I see! I'm glad that's taken care of!" Charlie exclaims happily. "Thanks, Dad."
It's nice to receive a "thank you" after all. Was that so hard, Adam?
KeeKee meows loudly, rubbing against Charlie's legs to greet her. With a loving stare down at the cat, Charlie coos, "Hi babygirl! How'd you get in here?"
Quickly, Lucifer explains his idea to his daughter - though he skips over the reason Adam brought up the need for it in the first place. Lucifer prefers to only tell the truth to Charlie, so it's more just being vague than straight-up lying. Maybe at some point they can all talk about how Alastor went looking for loopholes, but… Adam had requested it stay a secret, and Lucifer does intend to honor that.
It all ties back to that self-advocacy, and also basic decency and respect. If the beans are spilled, Adam will never tell anyone here anything ever again. And… for some reason, that doesn't sit right with Lucifer.
Charlie, naturally, is in favor of the plan. "That… sounds wonderful! A locked bathroom door will definitely grant you privacy. And if there's an emergency, we can still get to you." She is beaming from ear to ear. "And animals are great for emotional support and healing!"
"Wait - not that I need therapy or anything, but I thought dogs were the therapy animals?" Adam argues. His tone suggests he'd want a hellish dog instead, but too bad.
Charlie smiles. "Cats can be, too! Even if it's just… for someone to talk to, or to keep you company. It's like a little buddy to hang out with. And KeeKee is an absolute sweetheart!" She pats the cat's head. "She's a great listener to secrets and rants - especially because, well, she can't talk! Anything you ever wanna get off your chest - it's safe with her! Oh, I just know you'll be besties in no time!"
Adam grimaces, and Lucifer has to wonder if Charlie's "sales pitch" is too much - subtlety has never run in the family.
Before he can really respond properly, though, a new train of thought seems to cross Charlie's ever-chugging mind. "Oh, right! I almost forgot the whole reason I stopped by!" she exclaims, lighting up. "When Vaggie told me you were awake, I just had to get over here because I wanted to ask you something very important, Adam. Can I sit here?" She points to the chair next to the angel's bed, and he nods.
Once she's settled down, she continues, "So… Adam… I wanted to formally ask if you wanted to remain here in the hotel for now, as a guest!"
Adam stares at her, a dismay in his eyes. "What…?"
Charlie smiles gently. "Well, it's just— this is the safest place for you right now! I know Vaggie told you about Heaven, and we won't give up on trying to speak with them, but… until they want to hear us out, you'll need somewhere to stay. So I wanted to, um, officially offer the hotel."
"You can't be fucking serious," Adam murmurs in disbelief, looking more shocked than angry. "I— this goddamn hotel isn't safe for me. Did— did you forget what that motherfucker did to me…?"
Charlie dares to set a hand down on the bed - not touching Adam, but close by. "No one forgot, I promise. And I meant what I said before. I'm not going to let him hurt you again."
Briefly, Adam's eyes flicker up to meet Lucifer's, and it looks like he's going to confess what happened with the mirrors. But ultimately, he doesn't mention it, instead whispering hoarsely, "…you can't promise something like that."
Lucifer's heart breaks at Charlie's saddened expression. "I… I know," his little girl says. "But I'm going to try my best, as the founder of this hotel. I'll keep vigilant, making sure he can't get to you again. And that, along with KeeKee's locking, will hopefully make you feel a bit safer."
"I'm not fucking stupid," Adam growls. "I tried to murder you all. And I'm just supposed to believe you're suddenly okay with me being close by?"
"You can't hurt us," Lucifer points out. "And it'd be stupid to try."
"That's not what I— ugh." Adam shakes his head in frustration. "No one's this goody-two-shoes nice, especially in Hell. Even if I believe you all are cool with protecting me - and reminder, I fucking hate all of you, by the way - there's got to be a catch here. A price, an ulterior motive, something - so just tell me what it is already!"
Lucifer exchanges glances with his daughter. There's a part of him that hopes she won't offer Adam the full "Hazbin Hotel experience", but… realistically, he knows that's exactly what she's going to do.
Charlie smiles sheepishly. "Well… as an official resident, you're expected to participate in some of the activities. Redemption is usually the end goal, but since you're not a sinner… having you do a few group activities when you're feeling better will work just fine!"
"But that's… it?" Adam quirks a brow in confusion. "I mean, I don't wanna do all that shit, but that's all you want me to do?"
"Yeah! The future's pretty uncertain right now for us all, so I think that's pretty fair, don't you?" Charlie beams.
"Ohoho! Do your compassion and mercy know no bounds, Char-Char?" Lucifer laughs obnoxiously with a wide grin, trying to sell his fake excitement at the idea. "I'm sure our guest here would be delighted to take this very, very kind offer." He stares daggers at Adam, who just looks back with his eyebrows scrunched down.
It's true, both of them hate the idea of Adam staying and participating in activities with the other residents (sans Alastor, of course), but Charlie's right - there's no better option right now.
Adam looks to Charlie, to Lucifer, down to KeeKee, and then back at Charlie. He grits his teeth and finally mutters, "Fucking… fine…"
Charlie clasps her hands excitedly. "I'm so glad! Dad, I think we should let Adam rest and get acquainted with KeeKee - and maybe finally take that shower?"
"Are you saying I fucking stink?" Adam barks.
"No—"
"That's exactly what she's saying," Lucifer interrupts dryly, and his daughter shoots him a disapproving pout.