Like Father, Like Son
Summary: Lute is still struggling with the loss of Adam, but when she stumbles upon a playful scene involving his son, she starts to see small traces of her commander in the blonde.
A little gift before reigning in 2026 this evening! I'm sorry it's shorter than my usual work, we had a sudden death in the family a few days ago, and I've been preparing for the funeral on top of juggling my usual workload. I hope you guys enjoy what I managed to come up with!
Warnings: Some canon-typical adult language, but that's pretty much it.
Word Count: 2,210 words.
His room still smelled like him.
Even with the wallpaper torn to shreds and shattered glass littering the floor, a trace of him hung in the air, greeting her tauntingly every time she stepped through those doors.
Cologne and something earthy, something uniquely his.
It would fade, too, with time. Eventually, all that would remain would be memories as the bedroom was handed off to someone new, remodeled and repaired until everything that reminded her of him was lost. She had argued, practically pleaded, that the space should be preserved, memorialized.
"Heaven is crowded enough as is, Lute. It wouldn't be practical when so many new souls are flooding in every day, in need of a home." Sera had replied. "Besides, surely Adam wouldn't have wanted his room turned into such a solemn place."
Bullshit. He would have wanted a golden statue dedicated in his honor, a funeral procession big enough to rival a king's, a museum of his accomplishments and contributions to be established.
Sera didn't know him at all, not the way she had.
Lute stared down at the sprawling city below, kicking a piece of broken glass through the gapping whole where the stained glass once stood. It tumbled through the air, sharp edges twinkling and refracting in the golden sunlight as it slowly disappeared from sight.
...
Nowhere was safe from her memories. Every street, every shop, brought another wave of devastation and bitterness crashing over her.
The little ice cream shop on the corner? They had went there together only a month prior, laughing about the shattered look on the princess's little face when they informed her that the exterminations would become more frequent.
The large stage erected in the center of the city? Adam had hosted weekly concerts there, playing his guitar for the masses while Lute watched dutifully from backstage, eyes constantly scanning for threats
The High Seraphim's tower? It had become like a second home with how much time they had spent there, planning attacks, discussing strategies, shit-talking his ex-wife and her little man-whore of a king.
Everywhere she looked, she saw flashes of him, little memories making her eyes burn with barely constrained tears.
Shaking her head, Lute ducked into the first shop she could find. Golden eyes flicked about, taking in her surroundings with disinterest. A little bookstore, filled to the brim with shelf after shelf, large armchairs shoved into the corners, and a little lamb winner smiling eagerly behind the checkout counter.
She could have stepped into a blank room, for all she cared. All that mattered was that Adam had never set foot there; this place held no sadness to consume her.
Numbly, Lute began to slowly browse the isles, glancing briefly over the various titles. Romances, cookbooks, gardening manuals, more romances. Nothing violent, nothing risqué. This was Heaven, after all.
'Look at all this shit; no wonder he didn't read.' Lute thought, scoffing as a particularly egregious title stood out to her. "Holly's Holiday Miracle," she murmured, shaking her head. Fucking ridiculous.
As she made her way further into the stacks, a low, hushed sound met her ears. Lute paused, brows furrowing. Voices, it was voices, whispering excitedly from a few shelves over. While she couldn't quite register what was being said, she could pick out at least three distinct cadences, all battling for dominance.
Silently, the exorcist slipped over to the next isle, ears straining as the words began to become clearer.
"Aaw, what's the matter? Having a hard time staying quiet?" One voice cooed, a clear playfulness in its tone.
"Yeah, is somebody too sensitive?" A second voice chimed in, this one lighter, higher in pitch.
Immediately, Lute recognized them both, frown deepening as a feeling of irritation bubbled up within her. Saint Peter and Emily; of course. All she wanted was to be alone, why did they have to turn up everywhere she went?! Her back pressed firmly against the bookshelf behind her, head cocking slightly as she continued to eavesdrop.
What were they going on about? Who were they talking to? Were they getting it on in the back of a bookstore? The fucking degenerates-
"Ehehehem, Peter! Wahahahait-"
Lute froze, eyes widening slightly. Abel, that was Abel's voice, clear as day despite the hushed, garbled tone. What the fuck was going on?
"Hey, Emily, check this out!" Peter whispered excitedly, the sound of clothes ruffling a soft, frantic begging erupting from the other side of the shelf.
"Nonono, Peheheter! Don't you-eheheheheheheeeeee!"
Was Abel...was he laughing?
Lute's body locked up at the sound. It was soft, so quiet it was barely there, but it was a laugh nonetheless. Not just a laugh, though...it was HIS laugh. Adam's laugh.
Sure, there were some differences. Adam's was loud, boisterous and gravely, able to fill a room with ease, whilest Abel's soft giggling was muffled and restrained. It was more high-pitched, too, more boyish. But the general spirit was there; the soft snorts interrupting his babbling pleas, the bounciness, the way it made her heart hammer.
That was all Adam.
She just couldn't help herself; slowly, carefully, Lute glanced around the corner, eyes widening at the sight before her.
Emily and Peter had Abel pressed against one of the shelves, boxing him in on both sides as their hands dug into his robes, probing fingers seeking out his sides and ribs as the blonde shook with barely-contained titters. Abel was biting down HARD on his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut as his wings tucked protectively against his torso (shit, Adam had done that, too).
"Guhuhuhuys, come on! S-Sohohohomeone's gonna hehehehear us!" Abel forced out, wheezing when Peter drilled into a soft just above his left hip.
"Then I guess you'd better keep quiet, then, huh?" Peter shot back, his expression the picture of mischief.
Emily rolled her eyes. "Come on, be nice!" She chided, her fingers scribbling across Abel's ribs as she cooed over the resulting squeal. "Don't worry, Abel, nobody ever comes in here, remember? You can giggle to your heart's content!"
Abel tossed his head back, resting it against the shelf as his cheeks turned a bright, embarrassed gold.
Father in Heaven, he looked so much like him. Lute's mind raced, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she watched the blonde shake with laughter, frantically trying to quiet his growing mirth in his sleeve as his companions tickled him to pieces.
Lute couldn't look away.
It took all of her strength to pry herself away from the sight, quickly leaving the store before she acted foolishly. She wasn't supposed to see that, any of it, and yet it was burned into her mind, playing over and over again as she maneuvered down crowded sidewalks.
'He sounded so much like him...'
Shit, she needed a drink.
...
As the days drug on, Lute still couldn't banish that sound from her mind. It lingered there, taunting her, reminding her.
Every time it popped back up, she was immediately overwhelmed with emotions as memories rushed forward; her pinning Adam against a wall, clawed hands digging into his stomach as he hurled death threats and pleas between wails, her holding him down and preening his wings as he shook with embarrassed titters, her counting his ribs over and over again just to watch him fall apart as she "miscounted" and began anew (they were both well aware he only had twenty-three, rather than the usual twenty-four).
She had to do something, it was driving her mad! She couldn't even LOOK at her new "commander" (she still refused to call him by the title; Abel was not, and never would be, HIM) without the overwhelming desire to make him make that lovely sound again bubbling back up.
But she wouldn't; she COULDN'T do such a thing. Adam had been different, special. They had something special. She couldn't just GO UP to the blonde and start...she couldn't...
...
Her resolve broke three days later.
While the exterminations were effectively canceled for the foreseeable future, a decision that still made rage burn within her, it was decided that Heaven's defenses needed to be rediscussed and updated after the most recent uprising. Sera had attended the first half-hour of the meeting, laying out what she and the other high angels wished to see, before leaving to give her and Abel time to create a plan of action.
She had to hand it to him, while Abel was a spineless coward, he turned out to be quite the pragmatic thinker when it came to defensive strategy. Within only minutes of busting out the map detailing Heaven's layout and borders, he had been able to point out numerous potential weak points, circling each in red ink as he rambled on and on about potential solutions.
He was no fighter, but he wasn't a complete fool.
Lute hadn't been planning on giving in to her...intrusive thoughts. She thought she was doing a decent job at quashing the nagging, sentimental little part of her that SCREAMED to get its claws on the blonde. But then, Abel had lifted his arm over his head, moving to gesture at another section of the map, and something snapped.
"See, we could have them reinforce the gates with their-shihihhihihihit!" Abel's words were interrupted by a loud squeak, arm snapping down to his side. His eyes went wide, shooting down to glance at the golden claws curling into his side, then up to meet his lieutenant's intense gaze. "Uhuhum, Lute, what are you doing?"
The woman's gaze sharpened, her frown morphing into a small smirk. "Seems you did take after him after all."
"Whahat are you-nehehehehehehahahahaha! N-Nohohohoho, Lute, hohohohold on!" Abel busted into a fresh wave of giggles as the hand camp to life, squeezing rapidly at the fleshy side her free arm moved forward, cornering him between herself and the table.
Lute chuckled. "Not even going to try holding it in?" She taunted, claws squeezing up and down, up and down, running from just above the hip to below the ribcage. "Are you that weak, or do you just enjoy it that much?"
"Why?! Why ahahahahahare you dohohohoing thihihihihihis?" Abel cried out, adorable giggles tumbling past his lips uncontrollably as he floundered to grab her wrists, missing every time as they dipped just out of reach.
Why? She wasn't even sure herself. "Less talking, more laughing." She replied, moving up to scribble experimentally over the blonde's ribs. His laughter increased in pitch, taking on a whiny, flustered note. "Just look at you; I'm barely even touching you and you're losing it."
Abel jerked, blush deepening as a little snort ripped out of him.
Lute hummed, a devilish glint entering in her eye. "You know, Adam only had twenty-three ribs; what about you?"
That caught his attention. "Nohohohoho, Luhuhute! Dohohohohon't you dare!" He shook his head feverishly. "Twehehenty-four! I hahahahave twehehenty-four! No need to cohohohohount!"
"I never said anything about counting them, but since you brought it up, we'd better check, just to make sure."
"Noooooohohohohohohohooooo!"
Lute's claws set to work, scratching between each rib two at a time, slowly working their way higher and higher. "Two, four, six, eight, ten..."
Poor Abel was beside himself, squirming from foot to foot as he tried to dance away from the ticklish assault. "Gehehet awahahahay! Yohohou suck so muhuhuhuhuch!" He giggled. "Luuuuhuhuhuhuhute!"
"Shit, all that noise made me lose count. Guess I'll need to start over..."
Oh, the look on his face was priceless, eyes practically popping out of his skull as he WAILED out giggly protests. It seemed he was just as susceptible to her little game as Adam had been; maybe even more so.
It took three rounds of "counting" to get through all twenty-four, and by the time her claws slowed to a barely-there crawl, Abel was barely standing, knees wobbling as he shook with residual titters.
"Ohohoho Fahahahather in Heaven, you are so mehehehean!" The blonde pouted.
Lute's smirk widened. "That was just the warm-up."
"W-Warm up?!"
...
Over the next several weeks, it had become a regular occurrence for Abel to find himself being tickled within an inch of his life whenever Lute was in the room. It was never around others, only when they were alone, and never for more than a few minutes at a time.
But damn, was it flustering!
Scribbles to the ribs, squeezes to the hips, claws VIBRATING into his stomach until he thought he was going to go mad. It sent Abel's head spinning; she'd never been this way before, barely even gave him a passing glance, but now? Now she loomed like a specter, awaiting her next opportunity to pounce and reduce him to giggly, snorty tears.
Not that he minded, of course! It was still fun, even if it could be...a lot, at times, and he certainly preferred this side to her to her more abrasive, angry moods. But what had brought it on? Why the sudden shift? Had Abel finally managed to work his way onto her good side? No, surely not.
The blonde shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh as he fell back onto his head, running a hand through his hair.
"Man, I wish dad were here. He knew her better than anyone else..."
