whatwas | (no subject)

That drives it home. He looks at her, somewhere between horrified and remorseful.

"You know I wouldn't now."

Don't you?

"Promise?"

She needs to hear him say it.

"I promise."

It's hard to say; thinking about it, about the alternative especially and all the uncertainty, hurts.

"I will never--"

She leans up, and gives him a soft kiss on the forehead.

"And would you die for this child?"

There is a future where he does. He hasn't told Break yet about Nephilim like their child, about the hatred angels have for them.

"Yes."

"All right."

She agrees.

"Then I will do everything in my power."

"Everything?"

He would have made that sound playful, but it's not. It's a serious question and he's still wrestling with the closest to guilt as he comes.

He can't say it, but he shares little threads of the sheer torture of remorse he feels, thinking of what he'd done to her earlier. To Gabriel, a year ago.

"Lucifer-"

Breathlessly sorrowful.

"-I'm sorry. What happened to you with your family is wrong. This won't be like that."

He knows on some buried-deep level that he is very, very much like His Father. More than any of the others. They have the same temper, the same cruel teaching methods.

But maybe things would have been different if He hadn't been doing it all alone--or at least had let Himself confide in someone other than his four oldest sons.

"And what else will it be like?"

"It will be like we remember."

Demon blood in sippy cups. Bathtub grout and skinned knees. Parent teacher interviews.

"The teachers are going to hate us."

The last one he remembers had some odd issue against Lucifer being 'overly affectionate' with Break in an empty classroom.

"We learned our lesson."

He reminds him, gleefully.

"But it's always best to study up."

He almost, almost snickers. But then he sobers a little and looks at her more directly.

"Can you forgive me?"

"Yes."

She forces herself not to say that there was nothing to forgive. Transgressions against herself are usually sort of imaginary to her, but she has children to think of now. That means self-protection has to be a priority.

"I forgive you."

"I don't understand."

A simple admission. He didn't understand forgiveness from Gabriel, either.

But he is glad for it, if it means what it's said to mean.

"I need to sleep."

She admits, quietly.

"I know."

He shifts so she'll have room, and will stay until she tells him to leave (or until he's pulled away).

She lies down and rests her head against his chest.

"Love you."

"I love you, too."

It's been a day; Lucifer even says it out loud.

She smiles, and kisses him once more.

"Start a collection of bedtime stories? Sort through slowly for nice ones with positive lessons of morality and nontraditional gender roles."

While she drifts under.

Before she's out, he's come up with a half-dozen. His virtues are all about "sticking to it" and being fearless and always looking out for family, of course.

He'll have to pick Break's mind for how to integrate gender roles, nontraditional or otherwise; he has never been exposed to any.

But for now, he lets her sleep.

Male again, shaken and stunned, Break is sitting on the couch holding Jemima when Lucifer comes home.

He glances over his shoulder at him, still positively bowled over.

"Um."

Lucifer looks at him. It's never a good thing when Break starts off with 'um'.

"Yes?"

"Your father came by for tea."

He says, and that's about as tactful as he knows how to make it.

"Tea."

But his gaze goes immediately to the child, to Break, around the room as if He might still be lurking.

"What did he want?"