whatwas | (no subject)

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?"

"Earl Grey and crumpets."

He shakes his head. Clears his throat.

"To ask about you. About peace. About the little ones- I think he may have hinted that he'd call the angels off them some. That you were fair game until things were more patched... but he gave me everything I need to protect them."

"And what does 'everything' mean to Him?"

Lucifer is disdainful of any of his gifts. At best, they might get some powerful wards or sigils.

"Look."

He lifts his hand, and with a little sprig of intention, fries their coffee table. Sears it to cinders, with a tremendous puff of heat and power. With another thought, he shields himself and Jemima from the warmth, containing the little explosion thoughtfully.

Then whisks the mess out of reality, and builds it again- only this time without the slightly wobbly leg.

Lucifer is speechless.

That undoubtedly has God giggling on a cloud somewhere, because Lucifer is never without a snide comment or a quirked lip. But all he does right now is stare at his formerly human lover, and he bangs his knee on their healed coffee table as he walks to him.

"I thought he'd left a spy--you? You're one of--?"

"I don't know what I am."

He sets their daughter down, and stands to face him.

"I mean- I'm yours, obviously, but I don't know what I am aside from that."

Lucifer touches him, just a hand on a cheek, then his shoulder. Still solid.

He can still sense Break's soul in there, but there's something else--a touch of Grace, of pure Creation, embedded in. Like an angel, surrounded by the enigmatic and insensate substance of a soul.

"How does it feel?"

"Very vast."

Reaching up to touch his cheek in return.

"Like a shout off a mountain top. Like being given a paddle after a long ride on a raging creek."

Lucifer closes his eyes a moment, and lets some of the guards down he always has around Break; he lets his Grace show, and for once it's not searing, not blinding.

It is scarred and burnt and very obviously burned by Hell, though.

"Show me what else you can do, then. I have a lot to teach you."

And he suspects Break will take a few things and run with them.