Ummm this took so long but I love it soooo, I'm posting the the chapter here.
 Lucifer felt heavy; the morning dragged on, each tick of the clock mirrored by the throbbing behind his eyes. Charlie didnât want to go to school, and as much as he would have loved to indulge her, he couldnât. His daughter deserves every ounce of education he can give her, to build the better future he couldnât for her.Â
âCharlie,â Lucifer grimaced when she shoved the breakfast away. The bowl scraped against the table. Her cheeks puffed red and tight, breath hitching. âWait! No, no, don't cry.âÂ
He quickly scooped her up as the cries echoed across the room and bounced across his skull. His hand cupped the back of her head while her arms clung to him. His vision swam a moment when he hauled her up. The throbbing behind his eyes spread across his face.
 âItâs okay, I know, little star.â He cooed, bouncing her in his arms around the kitchen. He hadnât done this since she was a baby. Just like then, he pushed down the heavy feeling in his shoulders, and the flash of warmth in his stomach.
Charlie pulled back slightly, her lip trembled with the effort of her cries. âDonât make me go.â Her eyes were so much like Lilithâs. Big, brown, almost honey in this lighting.Â
Luciferâs breath caught, a tight coil formed in his gut. The words, wrapped around his throat, were like barbed wire. For a moment, if he let his eyes unfocus just long enough. He could see Lilith standing there with them. She would scoop Charlie from his arms, insist that Charlie go to school while Lucifer would still be coddling her.
 âYou sound just like her sometimes.â He whispered and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The vision melted away as Charlieâs face came into focus.
She stopped crying for a moment, her little fists wiped at her eyes. âLike mommy?â She questioned. The words cracked like a whip against the silence that she had finally reclaimed.
âYeah,â Lucifer confirmed, ignoring the way his voice wavered. âShe told me that once.â He carried Charlie to the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs. Lucifer cradled her into his lap, she settled in without complaint, sniffing against his chest.Â
âA long, long time ago.âÂ
âBefore I was born?â Charlie asked.
âOh way before you even thought of.â Lucifer nodded and squeezed her, which brought a fresh bout of giggles. When Charlie realized she giggled, she let out a huff and looked away. So Lucifer continued.Â
âYour mommy and I were a lot in love, as you know. And well, some people didnât like that daddy was with mommy.â Before Charlie could ask, Lucifer barreled on with the story. âThat made daddy really sad for Mommy, so daddy was gonna leave.â
âReally?â Charlie asked, her eyes wide as she listened to the story, her tears long since dry. âWhat happened?â
âYour mommy said what you did.âÂ
âDonât make me go?â Charlie repeated and Lucifer nodded.
âKinda hard to say no to that.â Lucifer mumbled. He could still remember it like it was yesterday. Standing in the garden. He demanded she leave but her hand clasped around his wrists and refused to let go.Â
âBecause you let mommy stayâŠI can stay?â Charlie asked, playing with the collar of his worn pajama shirt.Â
Lucifer sighed and adjusted her to sit up straight and looked her in the eye. âWhy do you wanna stay home?â He asked.Â
Charlie didnât speak and for a moment Lucifer thought she was giving him the silent treatment. But she spoke up, voice small and wavering.
âI donât wanna leave you.â
Lucifer felt his heart twinge. Body rocking in the chair as it lost its center of gravity.Â
He didnât know what to say to that, his head ached too much to think and his heart was too broken to be helpful.
âCharlie,â Lucifer swallowed past the lump in his throat. âI donât want to be away from you either.â
âThen we stay!â Her grip tightened on him, the idea echoing in his mind. The most selfish part of him purred at the idea of never letting her go. Keeping her safe with him forever.
âIâd love that baby.â He admitted. âBut school is very important.â
Charlieâs shoulders started to tremble, her eyes growing watery again.Â
Seeing her tears, Lucifer faltered. âHow about a deal?â He questioned quickly, not sure where the idea had struck from.
âA deal?â The sharp inhale of breath from earlier puffed out making the question sound airy.Â
Lucifer nodded. âYou try to go to school today andââ he set Charlie down on the chair and flurried about. He grabbed a pen, a piece of paper and quickly scribbled.
 There was a brief hesitation, only a moment, before Lucifer scribbled one more thing. âTell the teacher to call this first number if you want to come home.â He put the paper, scribbled with Rosieâs house number, and the number to Alastorâs diner, in her book bag. âIf that doesnât work. Call the second.â He told her.
Lucifer grabbed the bag and started putting Charlieâs arms through the loop. âThen when we get home Iâll start on the mural while you do your homework. Okay?â
Charlie looked like she wanted to protest but nodded. Some of the strength in his legs finally vanished with her reluctant adherence. He leaned his hip against the corner of the counter, the sharp pain grounding his vision to the moment.Â
âThen, when we get home, daddy will start on mommy's picture on your wall.âÂ
Charlie lit up, her entire posture seemed to straighten out and a smile beamed across her face. âA mural, daddy.â Charlie corrected.Â
Lucifer smiled and nodded. âThatâs right.âÂ
Thankfully, getting her to school was a little easier, although he faced an entirely new problem. An overly excited child. She bounced around him during the walk, her hands tugged on his. She would pull whenever Lucifer would start to lag behind or didnât give her an enthusiastic enough answer to her questions about the mural.
When Charlie skipped past the gate, Lucifer lingered as he always did. He leaned against the hot metal of the gate, the idle chatter of others drifted through his ears, muffled like cotton.Â
âI think there should be a curfew.â One mother said, looking at Lucifer. âWhat do you think, crooner?â
Lucifer blinked, shaking away the blanket over his mind. He forced a confused smile on his face and tilted his head. âWhat are we talking about?â
âOh, you wouldnât know anyway.â The mother sharply clicked her tongue. âBut those missing posters are doubling and my kid ainât gonna be on one.â She threw her hands up, and another mother laughed softly.
âLeave him alone,â the giggling mother scolded. âItâs not his fault people are leaving town.â She glanced at Lucifer and patted his shoulders. âDonât worry. No kids have gone missing. She likes to stir up trouble.â
Lucifer slowly nodded. âAh, right.âÂ
âShouldnât you be hitting the tram?âÂ
The reminder jerked Lucifer forward until he stopped on the tram. His hand clutched a railing above his head and his eyes followed the blur of houses and bodies. He shut his eyes against the mixed streaks of color. The next moment he opened his eyes he was at the gate, sitting in the passenger side of a car Rosie had ordered to pick him up. The vibrations of the engine shook his shoulders, the sound of it nearly drowned out Rosieâs words.Â
It was all a whirl of movement and static. An arm touching his, a tug forward. A laugh. Lucifer said something back, another laugh. Then he was alone in the ballroom. Swaying on his feet, his sketch book tucked in a bag thrown over his shoulder, weighing him down. After fishing it out, Lucifer dropped the bag on the ground. The sound echoed across the empty room. He turned on the radio and continued the stencil he had abandoned the afternoon before.
The sounds of music broke through clear the haze, overtaking the scribble on the walls. His eyes closed, the sound of a violin, skipping wildly to a fast tune, slid into his ears and around his ribs. Lucifer moved almost subconsciously, his hand glided over the wall to the beat of the music. It carried him away from the room, from the heat of New Orleans that pressed down harder every day. Until, after a brief pause of static, another tune started up.
It was instantly familiar, the sounds of a joyful piano backed Luciferâs hum of the opening tune. Then the words came and his stencil stopped.Â
Lucifer dropped his hand as Lilithâs voice carried across the melody, singing the words with perfect pitch. He turned slowly, the world blurred at the edges. Lilith spun in the middle of the floor, dancing to the song on the radio, hand outstretched to Lucifer.Â
Lucifer didnât dare to move, tongue heavy against the root of his mouth, his hands were leaden. He could only stand there, memorizing the way her hair fell from its bun, the way it framed her face so effortlessly. The strands were brown, just like those watery eyes that stared at him with an expectancy he couldnât find it in him to reject.
His fingers slipped into her cold palm, entwining their fingers. A heat still managed to rush through him when his hand rested on her hip. He stepped forward, breath shaking. He led them into a dance, one they would repeat in their home as they listened to the record.
âThere is no one else but you,â Lilith hummed. Her purple dress brushed her ankles. Her voice reached through his chest and nestled into his soul.
âAll alone, by the telephone,â Luciferâs voice shook as they spun, finishing the lyrics for her. âAll alone,â Lucifer continued, pulling her closer. âThere is no one else but you.â
His words cracked in their hush whisper. Lilithâs hands cupped his cheeks while he spun her, warmth flushing against his skin. They eased the throbbing that had been spreading, leaving only the ache in his chest.Â
âLilith,â he choked and laid his forehead against hers.Â
âIâm all alone, feeling blue.â He cupped her cheeks, thumb brushing over her eyelids.Â
âLucifer?â Rosieâs voice broke through the radio.
The song had switched at some point and Lilith was gone. Lucifer opened his eyes, breath heavy in his chest. He stood in the middle of the ballroom, trembling, hair clinging to sweat, slicked skin and paled cheeks.Â
âYou look like you saw a ghost.â She stepped forward, heels clicking against the floor. âYou made progress.â Rosie glanced over Luciferâs shoulder at the stencil on the wall.
âOh, Rosie,â Lucifer spoke, shaking his head. He immediately regretted it, his body swaying from the effort. âSorry I guess I let the music carry me away.â Lucifer rested his heavy head in the palm of his hand.
âLet me get a look at you.â Rosie grumbled and grazed the back of her knuckles against Luciferâs forehead. He leaned into the cool touch. âYouâre burning up!â She gasped.
After that, arguing was pointless, and Lucifer argued. He could have argued until he was blue in the face, but he quickly learned when Mrs. Beaumont said something then that was that. Today, she decided Lucifer was far too unwell and sent him running along home.Â
Rosie had ordered the driver to drop him off right in front of his house and not to leave until they saw Lucifer was inside.
The house was quiet, the wood creaked underfoot when he walked. The scattered toys lonely without their playmate.
He sidestepped them, his feet carrying him to Charlieâs room. It started to smell like her now. The stale air breathed with new life.Â
He looked at the walls, Charlieâs coloring etched onto the surface. Ideas for the mural, Charlie had reasoned.
He didnât wait for his thoughts to catch up with him. He sketched over the walls, pencil moving in a familiar pattern. The only time he emerged from the bedroom was to check the time.
After hours that had bled into one seamless moment, he had picked up Charlie from school, talking about some emergency parent conference that evening. When they finally got him, she gushed over the sketch. They drew more together after her homework and played until the sun settled against the sky.Â
It was easy to tuck Charlie into bed that night, the excitement ensuring an easy night. Lucifer wished he could say what came next was just as easy for him.
He had never been to a conference at a school before. It felt more nerve wracking than any meeting or presentation he had given before. Those were easy, simple. You always knew what the other person wanted from you, you had time to come up with a plan, rebuttals, defenses, negotiation tactics. Lucifer didnât believe any of that would help him.
He was tempted to skip it altogether. Stay home with his wonderful daughter, watch her sleep just a little more. However, he knew too well that wasnât what she needed from him, and it was unseemly.
Lucifer slipped a dollar to a neighbor then ducked out of the house. The walk felt longer when he was alone. No small fingers clutched him, pulled him this way or that as Charlie spoke of her goals that day, her dreams and expectations. He found his stride had quickened now, the silence that muffled the sound of his footsteps.
The meeting was more of a spectacle. Parents from every child in the school showed up, scattered through the auditorium. Mrs. Hargrove was talking to him, her brows pulled together.Â
âHuh?â Lucifer questioned, blinking slowly at her.Â
âYou feelinâ alright?â She tsked and raised the small red solo cup to her lips. âI said you should talk some sense to my husband.â Her hand lifted in exasperation. âCanât get him to see how important these things are. Even after two other kids.âÂ
Lucifer nodded, short, quick. âAnything about my kid matters.â
Mrs. Hargrove smiled, soft. âYouâre a good dad.â
Lucifer's throat tightened, a sudden warm feeling grew in his stomach. Thankfully, he was saved from responding as the lights flickered. âI think it's starting.â
Parents all converged to the front, packed together close. They whispered idle gossip that turned to static against Luciferâs ears. Their closeness tightened around Luciferâs chest, each inhale and exhale felt like breathing through a filter.
When the crowd finally started to depart, the air rushed into his lungs quickly. The rush made his head spin, his vision whited out.
âHuh?â His head turned to the voice. Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again.
âThe announcement. You know, with the curfew the school moved up the pick up time.â
âRight.â Lucifer said slowly, his brow furred in thought as he tried to pull together enough sense to respond. An earlier pick up time. That would make the mural take longer. What would he tell Mrs. Beaumont?
âLucifer?â Someone questioned, softer.Â
Lucifer nodded and cleared his throat. âI think, for the safety of our children. Itâs important. If the police and teachers both decided it's for the best,â he said slowly, âthen I suppose I have to agree.â
âI am so glad you agree, Mr. Magne.â A voice, new, called from behind him. There was a positive lilt to it, a sort of arrogance that Lucifer had learned to detect in his sleep.
Lucifer's world turned static at the edges from how fast he turned on his heel. It was a man that spoke, he wore a suit, a gun holster at his hip.
âIâm sorry?â Lucifer looked back at his face, eyes narrowed. âWho are you?â
The man smiled, something wide that showed off all his teeth, and stuck out his hand. âIâm Lieutenant Adam, I gave the announcement today.â
Luciferâs gaze snapped to the hand then lazily drifted back up to the lieutenant's face. His body swayed. âRight,â he took the detective's hand. The Lieutenant gave it a firm squeeze before he let go. âIt was aâŠconcise announcement.â Lucifer finished.
The smile stretched and Adam fisted his hands into his pockets. âWell, thank you, Mr. Magne.â His chest puffed up and his chin lifted. âI believe in getting straight to the point.â
Lucifer took a step back, and slowly nodded. The lieutenant eyed him, Lucifer could feel it in his bones. âI should be getting back to my daughter.â Lucifer said suddenly.
âOh thatâs good. Youâre daughter.â Adam nodded, the smile softening at the edges. âLittle Charlie, sheâs your only one right.â
Lucifer nodded. âYes.â He said stiffly.
He nodded again, the smile curling down at the edges. âNo wife?â
Bile clawed up Luciferâs throat, sudden and dizzying. His body pulled forward, tugged by gravity. Lieutenant Adam's hand darted out and held firmly onto Luciferâs shoulder.Â
âWoah there,â he spoke softly and steadied Lucifer. âI think we should be getting you home, Mr. Magne.â
Lucifer didnât protest, words rotted in his mouth and burned his throat. The Lieutenant led him to his car and drove him home.
After he checked on Charlie, he settled his aching, throbbing body into bed. For the next hour, he imagined Lilithâs corpse laid next to him, brown eyes a pale white. Lucifer watched the sunrise then woke up Charlie.
He didnât go to work the next day. He used a payphone outside the school, claiming to still be sick. Rosie didnât question for a second. Gave him a couple of days off on the spot. After he dropped Charlie off everyday. Lucifer went straight home. He pushed toys out of the way, moved empty dishes onto the stove when they ran out of counter space.
Lucifer went straight into Charlieâs room where Lilith was waiting. They danced, talked, sang while he painted the wall. Sometimes she posed for him, so he could get her smile just right. So he could remember the way her eyes twinkled in the sun.Â
She would leave when it was time to get Charlie. Then the cycle of play, love, and watching her sleep, began again.
Until the mural was finished.Â
She didnât show up when Lucifer placed the final stroke of her cheek. He had looked for her, sweeping through every room, painted fingers curled in his hair, a pain burned his scalp. She was nowhere.Â
Lucifer had sat on the couch, clothes sticking to him with sweat, and very slowly laid down, staring at the door. She would come back.Â
He didnât count the minutes, the passage of time, but the shadows shifted, the light fled down the door until it opened.Â
âLilith?â Lucifer asked, his eyes were closed. He didnât remember closing them. They wouldnât open now. He couldnât get up. âLilith? Are you home?â
He heard a feminine voice and tried to sit up. âCharlie?â His voice cracked, breath lodged into his throat.
There was another voice, deeper, masculine. âStay away.â Lucifer heaved, trying to push himself up. He managed onto his feet, body trembling, he forced his eyes open. The world flared white.
âCharlie Iâmââ he took a step and crumpled to the ground. Air left his lungs in a pained grunt and his world went dark once more.
Lucifer became aware of the water only after it hit him. The cold struck first, it soaked through his clothes and struck his bones. His eyes opened while he was still under the water, burning his eyes. Through the blur he could see a face above him, fractured from the rippled water. They reached out and suddenly he was pulled up.Â
Lucifer gasped, coughing as water spilled from his mouth and oxygen filled his lungs. Lucifer tried to sit up on instinct alone. His palms slipped uselessly against the cold porcelain.
 The movement barely registered to his brain before a sudden pressure on his shoulders sent him back down. Water splashed over the edge as his spine knocked against the tub's tile with a dull thud. Something like a wine choked out of him.
âDonât.â Alastor said. Firm, colder than he had ever heard it before.Â
Lucifer blinked the water from his eyes and focused on the sharp angles of the face leering at him. He tilted his head back up to the ceiling, eyes going unfocused, water sloshed higher against his ribs. His body felt heavy, impossible to move, like gravity had doubled when he wasnât looking. His limbs lagged behind the drag of his thoughts, each command arriving half a second later.
âIââ his voice scraped across his raw throat. âI canââ
Lucifer tried to move again. He put the weight of his body against the palms of his hands. His fingers clawed against the edge of the tub for purchase.Â
Alastorâs response was immediate. His hand flattened between Luciferâs shoulder blades and shoved him down harder than before. His teeth clenched together, the world momentarily unbalanced.
The porcelain, cold, seeped through his clothes and pressed against his back.
Lucifer swallowed, his throat tight. He didnât understand what he was doing wrong. He wasnât fighting, he wasnât asking for anything. Nothing unreasonable.Â
His hands trembled as they slid along the edge of the tub. His body relaxed against it, eyes focusing on what he could see. The small hairline fracture near the drain, the way light flickered briefly, the rough sound of his own breathing as it rattled against his chest.
âGet up.â Alastor said.
Lucifer blinked, the words sludged across his mind, the robustness of his tone sounded like he had assumed obedience.
His palms shook under his weight, useless beneath him. His knees buckled as soon as he shifted his weight. He sank back down with a groan, water splashed out and hit Alastorâs foot.
For a moment, nothing happened, the water stilled, and Lucifer melted under the weight of Alastorâs stare. Luciferâs chest collapsed into him and sunk his shoulders under the water.
Then Alastor grabbed him. Pristine sleeves dipped under the water as he grabbed under Luciferâs armpits.Â
There was no warning, Lucifer went weightless against Alastorâs firm lift, hauled up in one effortless motion. Lucifer gasped, water pouring off of him, his feat barely finding purchase on the slick surface before Alastor pulled back.
He swayed, the room tilted.
âStay up.â Alastor demanded.
Alastor caught him again, irritated this time. Lucifer thought dimly. The grip was sharper this time, fingers digging in as if to anchor something that refused to hold its own weight.
âYou will,â Alastor hissed, closer now. âBecause you need to.â
Lucifer didnât answer, he didnât know how. He didnât understand the way red eyes flickered across his face as if searching for something, and getting angry it wasn't there. His head throbbed, a deep ache that made it hard to care where his body ended and the water began.
Alastor dropped him again and turned the water back on, fresh heat burned across his skin. His body thrashed when a hand pushed him under, suddenly cutting off his oxygen. His limbs thrashed as the seconds stretched, his lungs burned.Â
He gasped when he was lifted back up, coughing and choking on the air. He was shook, rough hands brushed the air from his eyes until he was once more focused on Alastor. Both men panted heavily, they stared at each other.
âShe needs you.â Alastor spoke.
That had landed harder than the scalding water had as he was dropped again.
Luciferâs breath hitched. Charlie flashed in his mind, her backpack, paint stained cheeks and a wide smile. He tried again, muscles screaming as he pushed upward.
Alastor cursed under his breath, low and sharp, in a language Lucifer didnât know. Then he forced Lucifer under the water again, cutting off thought.Â
The water pressed in around him, heavy and burning hotter with every second. His brain ticked and his limbs thrashed again.
He was hauled up, sputtering.Â
After a moment of Alastor letting him sit in the cooling water, Lucifer spoke suddenly.
Alastor didnât say anything at first.
âNine hours,â he said eventually. âAlmost ten.â
Lucifer nodded, though the number meant nothing to him. Time had slipped loose somewhere along the way. He closed his eyes, the edge of the tub digging into the back of his neck.
He felt Alastor move away. The loss of contact made something in his chest stutter, a brief, traitorous relief curled low in his stomach before it sank back into numbness. The room went quiet except for the faint drip of water onto the tile.
Lucifer waited for something else to happen. A shout, a curse. Maybe he expected the door to slam while Alastor stormed away and waited for Lucifer to drown.
Minutes passed. Or seconds, he couldnât be sure.
Then Alastor sat at the edge of the tub, a wash cloth in one hand and clothes in another. He sat them on the sink then turned, his feet sank into the water, a small wave splashed against Luciferâs ribs. He didnât look at him. He couldnât bring himself to.
âIâm not doing this for you,â Alastor said.Â
Lucifer didnât respond.
âIâm staying,â Alastor continued, voice flat. âThatâs all.â
Lucifer stared at the ceiling, eyes burned with unshed tears. He didnât know if, coming from Alastor, that was a threat or a promise. He only knew he didnât have the strength to ask. Words pressed on his teeth and rotted against his tongue.
Alastor wrung the cloth out once, hard enough Lucifer could see the tendons of his wrist poking out. Then he pressed it to Lucifer's face.Â
The touch was brisk, almost careless. Water ran down Luciferâs temples, into his ears, slicked through his hair. The cloth dragged over his mouth, his jaw, his throat. It was never gentle, not overly cruel. It was firm and left behind pink lines on his flesh.
That seemed to bother him.
Alastorâs hand paused at Luciferâs collarbone. The pressure lingered there., thumb resting just above his sternum, feeling the shallow rise and fall beneath it. Lucifer became almost hyper aware of his own breathing, the way one might notice a clock ticking in another room.
âYouâre supposed to hate this,â Alastor whispered.
âI donât,â Lucifer responded.
Alastorâs thumb pushed harder, nail dug into his flesh. âThatâs not the right answer.â
Lucifer swallowed, his throat burned around the words. âThat wasnât a question.â
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. Alastor drew his hand back as if he had been burned. His eyes narrowed on Lucifer and he stood abruptly, the tub water sloshed as his weight shifted away.
Lucifer felt the loss of heat immediately.Â
The clothes were dropped onto the toilet seat, too fast, folded poorly. A shirt, one stained with his paints, and simple trousers. Alastor grabbed Luciferâs wrist and hauled him up with a quick jerk. The pull burned his shoulderblade and stretched his arm.
âStand.â Alastor said, tightening the grip on Luciferâs wrist.
Lucifer tried. His foot slid. His knee buckled.
Alastor caught him with a sharp intake of sound through his teeth. A quick click. He held Lucifer close, their chests pressed against each other.Â
âDo you know how easy this would be?â Alastor said, voice low. âHow little effort it takes you to move when you won't even try?â
Luciferâs head lolled forward, forehead nearly touching Alastorâs shoulder.
âI could kill you right now,â Alastor whispered in his ear.
âI know,â he murmured.
Alastor shoved him, not down, just back. Quick and sudden. With enough force that Lucifer momentarily lost his footing, his feet scrambled for purchase. He steadied himself, the water spilled everywhere.Â
âThere,â Alastor snapped. âThat. Do that again.â
Lucifer blinked, confused. His heart beat faster now, started awake by the sudden imbalance. His hands lifted instinctively, fingers curling into Alastorâs sleeve as he steadied himself.Â
For half a second something like satisfaction flickered across his face. It was gone just as fast. Replaced by something sharp and dark.
He pried Luciferâs fingers loose one by one.Â
âYour wife would be terrified of you like this.â Alastor said.
The words landed wrong. Not clean, not precise. It was blunt and landed straight against Luciferâs throat, his breath hitched.
âDonât,â he whispered.
âI shouldn't have to bring her up to make you move,â Alastor said, but his voice had changed. It was strained, angry. âYouâre still here. She isnât. You donât get to lay down with the dead.â
Luciferâs hands clenched at his sides. His nails dug hard into his palms, enough to sting.
âThatâs enough,â Lucifer spoke. It was barely audible, nearly drowned out over the waver of his voice.
Alastor stared at him, a smile curling over his lips. âGet dressed.â He said, then sharply turned on his heels and exited the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.