Chapter Text
Lucifer’s fingers trailed over the frayed photo, maybe one of the only ones he had of Alaster. The Sinner had actually stayed still for once and let Lucifer snap a picture, the King’s arm thrown over the Sinner with a huge grin on his face.
Alastor had looked mildly annoyed, at best.
The once familiar golden ring shone on his finger, drawing Lucifer from his thoughts. Even after all the years, even though Charlie was all grown up and ruling over Hell while he rotted away in his palace, the King of Hell still wore it.
A reminder of better times. When things actually looked promising.
Alastor had been a pain at best, a nuisance, a thorn in his side, and the best damned thing that had ever happened to him. Maybe even more so than Lilith.
He couldn’t even think of it now. The pain of losing two lovers.
Lilith wasn’t lost, just not there anymore. She hadn’t been in decades. At this point, he didn’t even know where she was. A part of him couldn’t care anymore. For a while, it was fine. Now her-and Alastor’s-loss hurt worse than ever.
The Sinner had ruined himself before Lucifer had even gotten the chance to save him, but whatever god out there had a cruel sense of humor apparently. Taking Alastor in such a way.
But fate had a funny way of breaking down-or building-relationships. Even out of nothing, less than nothing, really. He and Alastor had been sworn enemies, but by the time he’d died, the King had wondered if maybe there was hope for someone like him after all.
“Dad?” Charlie’s voice was small, tentative at best, the door creaking slightly when she opened it. Lucifer jumped, spinning around so quickly he nearly dropped the photo.
“C-Charlie! Hey, kiddo, what do you need?” His voice trembled just slightly, betraying his obvious attempt at hiding the evidence of his pain. Charlie only stared for a moment, her eyes swimming with that same mix of pity and concern they always seemed to now.
The King of Hell was a sad thing, after all.
But Charlie, though, had filled the position of Queen flawlessly. Almost. It had taken a decade or so before she got the hang of everything. Now she even looked different, her posture was almost regal, commanding a room with just the tilt of her head.
And still, the Queen of Hell knelt for her father, pathetically broken over a mere Sinner.
Red eyes met each other as Charlie held onto Lucifer’s arm with one hand, the other one reaching to gently take the photo from his trembling hands. For a moment she was silent, merely examining the photo like she hadn’t done it a thousand times.
Like she hadn’t found him like this a thousand times.
But she never wavered in her comfort. Her father had lost not only his believed wife, but the only Sinner-or being in existence-to fill the void she’d left behind. Charlie still missed her mother greatly, but even she can admit that she had seen the way Lucifer had momentarily brightened when Alastor came into play.
It was odd how things had worked out.
“I miss him too, dad.” She said softly, looking down at the photo once more. Lucifer fell silent, even his small sniffles stopping so she could speak. He knew the command his daughter carried, and like the rest of Hell, even he fell under it seamlessly.
“He was… good. For you. Sometimes.” A soft, almost sad chuckle escaped Charlie as she spoke, eyes lightening as she remembered the countless times they’d bickered. “Tell me the story again? When you guys finally got your acts together.”
Charlie nudged her father softly, just to see him break into a soft smile. Worth it to break through that self hatred.
Lucifer followed easily, falling back to sit on the bed with Charlie curled up at his side. Like this, maybe he could convince himself that she was doing this because she genuinely wanted to hear. Not because the King needed it. Because talking about it helped soothe some of that bastardly ache in his chest.