Lucifer lets out a choked growl, curling his wings around himself painfully. He pulls his knees up to his chest and holds them tight. He stretches his wings out, and then pulls them back around himself with a wince. His wings have been acting up for months, they finally let up a little after Beatrice's massage, but the relief was short lasting.
He gently takes his left wing in his hands and attempts to soothe it, but it's tender to the touch and he only lasts a few minutes.
He's supposed to be invulnerable, damn it!
All the lights are off in the penthouse, and his phone is muted for anyone except the Detective and her spawn. He wants to get up and have a drink or ten, maybe the buzzing feeling will overpower the aching in his bones?
He doesn't think he could move even if he wanted to. Folding his wings away is a no-go, he's already tried and doesn't want to go through that again. He shifts slightly, feeling his legs going slightly numb-
White hot pain cuts through his brain like an electric shock and he falls to the floor, curling up in a ball. The pain overrides anything and everything, he can't think, he can't breathe-
Oh dad- he can't breathe.
His eyes widen and he claws at his throat, trying to get his body to continue pumping oxygen into him. After a minute of struggling, he succumbs to unconsciousness. Painless oblivion.
Trixie was having a weird day. She could tell something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what it was. It was like someone was constantly watching her, but every time she went to look for the culprit, no one was ever there.
It was unsettling to say the least. The eyes on her back never felt threatening, they felt comforting, like someone was watching out for her...
But that didn't mean she was comfortable with being watched all the time.
All throughout her school day, she stuck close to her friends, not mentioning why she was so jumpy. They chalked it up to Trixie being Trixie and left it alone.
During her classes, she kept hearing her name being called by a deep calming voice, too deep a voice for anyone in her class. While it sent a feeling of serenity her way, she was still seriously freaked out by the disembodied voice; who was it? What did they want?
Lucifer? That made her pause. Why was the voice saying Lucifer? Was something wrong with the former angel now lord of hell?
Was she going crazy?
She picks up her phone – sitting in the back of class has its perks! – and pulls up hers and Lucifer's messages. She quickly types something out, and then puts her phone away, trying to focus on her teacher's voice.
The rest of the lesson goes by painfully slowly, but she doesn't feel the buzz in her pocket, which is very concerning. Lucifer never – ever – ignores her messages, even if it's a stupid question or a simple “hello”.
She sends another message.
Spawn (10:26am): hey lucifer! you okay?
Spawn (11:02am): lucifer?
Now she's scared. What's going on? Did something happen?
With shaking hands, she types out another text.
Spawn (11:04am): you're scaring me – is everything okay???
Standing in the busy hallway, she stares at her phone with wide eyes. No response. Something was very wrong. She pockets her phone and puts her hands together like a prayer. She closes her eyes.
Lucifer. If you can hear me, please respond to my messages. I'm kinda freaking out, are you okay? If you can, please please please respond.
Opening her eyes, she rushes to grab her phone out again. She waits. And waits.
The bell goes, signalling the end of her short break, now it was back to class until lunch. She shakily makes her way to her mathematics class, the feeling of dread never leaving.
The final bell sounds, and Trixie is the first one up and out the door. She runs out the front of the school, and looks for her mother's car.
What she least expects is to see Lucifer's sleek black 1962 Chevrolet Corvette parked and waiting for her. With tears in her eyes, she sprints to the car, looking in to see an extremely exhausted look on Lucifer's face.
He looks over at her and his face lights up, but falls when he sees her tears.
“Spawn-?” He starts but interrupts himself when she throws open her door and leaps into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He lets out a breath at the impact, but wraps his arms around her comfortingly. “Beatrice,” Lucifer says gently, stroking her hair, “what are all the tears for?”
“You- you didn't-” A hiccup- “didn't message me back! I thought you were in danger!” She cries, curling closer, seeking comfort and solace in the fact that he's here: living and breathing.
Lucifer's hold only gets tighter and he sighs. “My apologies, little one, I have been... preoccupied today.” He leans back slightly, making her look up at him through tears. “If I knew my lack of response would make you this upset, I would have messaged back immediately. I promise, it wasn't intentional, I just wasn't able to get to my phone.”
Hearing the sincerity and honest concern for her, her tears finally slow down. She nods, and lets go of him, sitting down in the passenger seat. She buckles in and gives Lucifer a smile which he returns.
They pull out of the parking lot and Trixie wipes her eyes, gaining control of her breath before Lucifer starts up a conversation.
“So... the Detective is caught up at work, meaning that you'll be coming back with me to Lux until she can get off.” He explains, stopping as the traffic lights turn from yellow to red. “North Star has missed you dearly, so I'm sure she'll appreciate you staying a while.”
Trixie grins and nods. “I've missed her too! Has she been good?” She asks, noticing the red stop light flash a few times. Lucifer seems to notice this too, and they both fall silent, watching to see if it happens again. It doesn't, but it leaves Lucifer with an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.
The light turns green, and Lucifer begins driving again.
It only took seconds for things to go wrong.
While passing the intersection, a car comes speeding through; straight at them from the left. Lucifer turns with wide eyes, but it's too late to do anything.
The car collides with them.
They're t-boned, and the car gets thrown to the side, rolling six times before finally stopping upside down.
Lucifer blinks open his eyes – when did they close? – and looks to his right where Trixie is upside down, held up only by her seat-belt. She's bleeding from her head and looks to be unconscious.
Unplugging himself, he crawls closer to her and unbuckles her seat-belt, pulling her into his arms protectively. He crawls out the open window and kneels on the pavement, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
He dials 911 and calls for an ambulance, explaining the situation shortly to the lady on the line, before giving an address and hanging up.
He closes his eyes and does a mental check, starting with his feet and working his way up. Legs, torso, arms, neck, head- all fine. The only things that still hurt are his wings, but oh well not much a human doctor can do about that.
Lucifer looks down at the little girl in his arms. She's bleeding from several places: her head, several cuts along her arms and legs, even a few cuts and bruises on her face. She looks so small and pale in comparison to her usual energy; so full of laughter and light.
He feels his throat tightening. Beatrice is so young, so innocent.
That's what humans are, though. Fragile; ending. They only live to a hundred years or so, and then they are gone. And if they haven't made a name for themselves, then they get forgotten.
They go to heaven or hell, depending on their life choices.
But Beatrice will go to heaven, he will make damn sure of that – even if it means he never sees her again. He would rather that, than have her be tortured for the rest of eternity.
He barely hears the sirens, or recognises the medics talking to him. Something about shock, and then they're helping him into the ambulance.
He doesn't resist. But he does start to come back to himself when they try to take the spawn from him. He snarls, holding her tightly, protectively, never letting up on his hold.
“We need to check her over, make sure there isn't any lasting damage. Is that okay sir? Can we please take her?” A young woman talks to him, and her voice is so soothing, so much like Ms. Lopes' own... he nods. She smiles and gently takes Beatrice, thanking him as she lies her down on the stretcher.
They ask him questions, both of their names, relations to each other, any emergency contacts and numbers they can call.. he answers them all, but everything feels fuzzy, almost like he's dreaming – but if he were, it would be called a nightmare.
He hopes he's having a nightmare. He hates seeing Beatrice with an oxygen mask over her little face, the object is far too big for her, but he knows it's doing more good than harm. Far more good.
His eyes hurt, and they flash lights in them, making him wince. They tell him he doesn't have a concussion – he's immune to such things when not around Chloe, so it doesn't surprise him – but they keep reminding him to breathe, as if he's forgetting how to.
Lucifer can't be too mad though, every time they remind him, he finds himself breathing a little easier.
The ride to the hospital is short in Lucifer's foggy mind. But they start taking Beatrice away, attempting to separate him from her, but he puts up a fight. He doesn't remember what he said – or if he said anything at all – but they eventually let him come with them.
He ends up seated in a white room, Beatrice sleeping soundly on a hospital bed beside him. Her injuries have been tended to and are wrapped in clean white gauze bandages.
He sits for hours, or minutes, or even seconds before the Detective comes rushing in.
Chloe's eyes are wide and bloodshot and teary. She sees Beatrice first, and then Lucifer. Her heart breaks for her baby, and breaks further when she sees the distant look in Lucifer's eyes. She's seen looks like that before, the shock, the anger, the heartache.
The look is foreign on her boyfriend's face, and she sits down in the chair next to his silently. She takes his hand and he looks to her, as if just noticing that she'd arrived.
He looks from their joined hands to little Trixie, so pale and small on the big hospital bed.... and he cries.
Lucifer chokes on his tears, covering his face with one hand as Chloe pulls him into a hug. She's whispering soft calming words to him, none of which he can really make out over his own crying, but he appreciates it nonetheless.
They stay like that, holding each other and crying, for a long while.
Chloe wakes him a while later and he looks around blearily for a moment before his eyes settle on Beatrice's own open brown orbs.
“Beatrice?” He whispers, and the little girl smiles, reaching to him with open arms. He stands quickly, and leans over her, wrapping his arms delicately around her. All is silent for a few long moments before he pulls away and presses his forehead against hers.
“Lucifer?” Comes her little voice. He pulls away further, and sits on the edge of the bed, taking her hands in his.
“Yes, little urchin?”
“Are you okay?” This makes him pause. He's fine, he knows this, and so do the other two in the room. He couldn't have gotten hurt in the crash, so why was she asking? “Mommy said you were really scared for me.”
He finds himself nodding without thinking. “I was.” He breathes, pulling a hand away to run through his dirty hair. “I was terrified. The most terrified I've been in.... in a very long time.”
Trixie nods seriously. “I'm sorry I scared you. But now we're even.” At his confused look, she giggles. “For this morning, dummy.” Lucifer lets out a chuckle and nods.
“Of course. We're even, Spawn.” He can feel the confusion radiating off of Chloe, but she holds her tongue for now.
“The doctors said she'll be fine.” Chloe murmurs, standing beside the bed, a hand on Lucifer's shoulder. “They want to keep her for tonight, but then they'll discharge her and we can go home.”
The way she says home, with just slight emphasis, really hits his heart.
He takes in a shaky breath, and looks between his two lovely ladies, his whole world right here. “Of course. And then we can go get some gelato, or even good old fashion ice cream. Sound good?”
At Beatrice's enthused but exhausted nod, he squeezes her hands and then lets them go. “Get some rest, darling.”
Her eyes close, and her breathing evens out in seconds. Lucifer and Chloe move back to their seats and watch the youngest sleep. She looks so peaceful, and Lucifer can rest easy knowing she's sleeping by choice, and not due to any head trauma as he'd feared.
Chloe lays her head on his shoulder and ends up falling asleep as well. The lights flicker in the room, and Lucifer can feel that familiar presence; the feeling of someone watching him.
But it doesn't feel bad, it's comforting.
He knows exactly who is to thank for Trixie coming out of this with nothing but a few scrapes and bruises.
“Thank you, Raphael.”