Work Text:
Instead of alluding to this event in S3 as planned, I decided to make it into its own short-fic instead.
While it's been six months here in the real world, this is something that's been heavy on my heart again as of late - so I've decided to put it here, in the fictional world that's been built.
"You have to take the pain that's inside of you and put it somewhere else." I can't remember where I've seen that, but it always rang true. If you keep your pain within you, it only grows more harmful - so feel it, move through it, and give it somewhere else to live outside of yourself...whether that's through writing, or art, or in music - you have to give it somewhere else to live.
This can 110% be skipped - Third Installment of BTR can be found here.
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It hadn’t been very long since Cayrie left the Devildom. A month and a half, at most.
She’d made herself busy catching up with Coren and paring her belongings down - getting rid of any excess that would only serve to weigh her down should she attain her goal of inter-world travel.
Other humans in her life did try to connect with her, but she wasn’t at all interested in them. There was a great depression crushing down on her, threatening to consume her and all her efforts whole.
On top of her loneliness at being separated from the brothers again, Quinnigan wasn't doing well.
Not at all well.
He had begun to fail for several months now, but in coming home to the human world, he’d taken a turn for the worse. Cae noticed him losing an alarming amount of weight in spite of the amount of food he ate, always acting as if he were starving. His fur had grown unkempt and dirty, and he was having a hard time using the box like he was supposed to.
She saw the stiffness and shakiness in his hips, the way that simple movements took him considerable effort. She heard him fall down the stairs - not once, but twice - and saw him fail altogether to urinate where he was supposed to…and that's when she knew.
She knew when she watched him falter and stumble when he tried to move from room to room. When she looked into his eyes and saw how tired and old he was…she knew, and she wept.
After nearly two decades of life together, it was time for her beloved friend to leave her.
She stood in the kitchen for a long while, searching up local veterinarians who could help her. When she called, she could hardly get the words out through the aching tightness in her throat.
“Please help me.” she begged over the line through ugly sobs. “He’s suffering. Please help me.”
Once the appointment was made, she traded her human world device for her Devildom one, and made one more sorrowful plea.
⥈
Cayrie didn’t beg for life-saving magic or some other impossible miracle. She simply asked the Young Prince if Satan could be there with her when she took her companion to the clinic.
He’d loved that cat as much as she had.
So she didn’t ask for anything else, hoping her request would be accepted - not for the rest of them to come, or for anyone to stay with her - just that the fourth-born would be granted leave to see his friend one last time before the end.
Two days later, the morning of the appointment, her guests appeared via the power of the magic circle.
⥈
With the proper coordinates given, they appeared at the door of her little human world house. Lucifer had been sent along with Satan - to make sure he didn’t stay longer than he was supposed to, no doubt.
“Cayrie…I’m so sorry.” the blonde demon breathed, wrapping her up in a sympathetic hug. He’d been devastated at the news and it showed on his face now.
“Me too.” she uttered quietly, her throat clenching up again in a tight, painful knot.
Lucifer didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Once Satan had released her, he came forward to take his place, offering the teary-eyed human the comfort of his embrace. She accepted it gratefully, having needed such a thing for several days now.
Cayrie led them inside and made introductions to her brother, who had been watching and waiting patiently as the other-worldly guests arrived. He’d heard about them, of course, but this was his first time meeting any of them in the flesh. They handled each other with a somber politeness and then turned their attention to the matter at hand.
Mr. Q was lying in the living room. The cat’s eyes lit up with recognition when Satan sat on the floor beside him, happy to see the familiar face he’d come to associate with good treats and better skritches. The young demon cooed his greetings and fell into a sorrowful frown as he considered the feline’s condition.
“...There has to be something we can do.” he pleaded, looking up at Cayrie. “We have all the magic in the world available to us, certainly we could-–”
“...No, honey.” she dismissed sadly, the pain in her eyes a palpable thing. “It’s time to let him go.”
That concept was not an easy thing for an immortal, magical being like him to accept or understand. She could see him fight with her decision, trying to argue against it in his mind. Then he looked back at the husk of a cat and saw what she had seen, as the feline met his eyes and gave him a world-weary blink.
Cayrie gathered up a blanket and came into the room. Gently, she scooped up the elderly cat and cradled him in her arms.
“It’s time to go.” she uttered softly, leading the silent men out of the house.
Coren drove them. Cayrie and Satan sat in the backseat together, the old kitty in her arms the entire way to the clinic. In his health she would have had to crate him, but today he didn’t have the strength to fight her hold. He simply sat there and watched the world go by, looking back at his friends every now and then with curiosity in his eyes.
The two of them made sure to love on him the entire way, smiling through their sadness whenever he met their gaze.
When they arrived, the four of them filed into the exam room. The men took their seats along the wall, allowing Cayrie to have the run of the room as she needed. She stood at the table alongside Quinnigan, keeping her hands on him the entire time, assuring him she was right by his side.
Even Satan, as much as he wanted to be in the thick of it, knew this moment was not to be interfered with, and gave the two of them their space.
The veterinarian came in and gave his greetings, commenting that Mr. Q had lived a good long life and that most felines were lucky to have lived as long as he had. He didn’t argue with Cayrie or her decision, seeing the decline of old age for himself, and then he pulled out a series of syringes and went to work explaining the procedure.
The elderly cat was held in place on the table and the sedation was administered. Cayrie knelt on the floor in front of him, cooing reassurances as it began to take effect. The veterinarian took his leave and she stayed there on the floor, holding Quinnigan's gaze to hers until it became clouded and unseeing.
She didn’t stop looking into them, even though he was asleep. She didn't stop petting him, even if he couldn’t feel her anymore.
And then the doctor came back into the room and administered the second needle.
Cayrie stopped looking at him then. That was when she put her forehead to his and held it there, holding onto him as she wept and felt him leave her.
Condolences were given, and they were left alone in the room until she could compose herself enough to leave.
Tears fell freely down the fourth-born’s cheeks, but still he didn’t not interfere. He watched as Cayrie stood and wrapped the lifeless body of her friend in the blanket she’d brought him in, cradling him in the same manner she had when he’d been alive just moments ago. Then she regarded the men with tear-filled eyes and bid them to leave the room, ready to take him home.
⥈
Though Quinnigan was quiet and heavy in her arms, still she held him like a child and ran her finger along the bridge on his nose, in the way he’d always enjoyed. Satan joined her, taking his turn to put hands on what was left of him, and then they began to tell stories.
They shared stories of the feline’s quirks and personality. Of how he loved to be in the kitchen with them, and all of the endearing and laughable moments they’d had in the past couple years.
And all the way home, Cayrie held him in her arms.
Once there, there was work to be done - work that most humans didn’t have it in them to do.
⥈
Cae brought Mr. Q into the basement and gathered up a series of items. Herbs, incense, a scarf of hers, and a set of sharp knives. Satan helped her gather and carry them all, watching on with a feline curiosity as she worked. Lucifer and Coren stood by, ready to offer any assistance should she need it.
She laid the body of her friend out on the blanket he’d died in. Beside him, she lit a candle and a stick of incense and started a playlist that set her in the right mindset. While Cayrie didn’t often practice her spirituality in front of others, she was doing it now.
She was giving Quinnigan a funeral.
Taking a bundle of herbs and lighting it until it smoldered, she moved it over the body and implements until the smell of it filled the room. She ran her hand over the fur of her friend, muttering words only she could hear, caressing him as she set down the herbal bundle in favor of a blade.
Then, she stopped, her hands trembling violently as her grief overwhelmed her.
Cayrie crumpled to the floor, hands on the edge of the table as she bowed her head and gave herself over to uncontrollable, racking sobs. They came in shuddering wails of loss and agony, ringing throughout the tiny house.
The men went to her then, holding her as she rode the waves of grief that rocked her. She didn’t even register their presence until it was over, eventually quieting into an eerie hollowed-out calm.
Then she stood, silent and composed with a knife in hand, and went to work.
⥈
With Coren’s guidance, it didn’t take long for them to separate skin from muscle, paring away the black and white pelt to expose the atrophied structure underneath. Skillfully, they pulled it away, wanting to preserve the silken beauty he’d held in life - to turn it into something tangible she could touch and hold onto whenever she needed comfort. Cayrie cooed her affirmations the entire time, marveling at the engineering beneath the surface.
Even now, she couldn’t stop telling him how beautiful he was.
Pelt taken and soaked in brine, Cayrie then moved on to the skull. She cut apart muscle and separated joints, taking the seat of the soul to be cleaned later on - maintained as a gleaming heirloom she would always treasure.
What was left of him was laid out on the scarf and anointed with herbs and oils. Another pass of smoke and wrap of the cloth, and the group moved outside to find a suitable gravesite.
Cayrie already had one in mind. Shovel in hand, a hole was dug in the forest and her little cat's body was placed inside. She’d bought a flowering bush to place over him, and when all was set in place, she lit another stick of incense and sent her prayers into the air alongside the smoke.
⥈
The emotion Satan had witnessed today was unlike anything he’d experienced for himself. The grief and reverence Cayrie had felt toward her companion was as a tangible thing he could feel in his own heart.
She hadn’t tried to fight the inevitable. She just accepted it the best she could, with a grace and understanding of mortal life and death that had been beyond his comprehension.
He wondered if he’d be able to do the same as she had done, when it came time for her to go the way as Mr. Q.
And then the sun was setting, and it was time for them to go.
⥈
Coren left them alone to say their goodbyes while Lucifer summoned the power of the circle to take them home - as had been promised. Satan gave her a long-lasting hug, reluctant to leave in her time of grief.
“I’ll have some things to put in his box, whenever I see you again.” he uttered into her shoulder, referring to the container she would be making to place his mementos in.
“He’d appreciate that.” she replied gently, pulling away to look at him properly. “I’m glad you were with us today.”
“Me too.” the demon replied, smiling in sympathy. “I’ll be checking in on you, to see how you’re holding up, alright?”
“Thank you.” she uttered, reassured at the thought. Her DDD had been blowing up all day, but she had ignored it and likely would for some time. She would need a moment to find the energy to respond to everyone, and that wasn’t going to be this evening.
“...Until next time. Take care of yourself, Cae.” the blonde bid in farewell, pulling himself away from her and into the portal’s light.
That left her standing there with Lucifer.
He’d been fairly quiet and out-of-the-way for most of the day, watching her every move with an unfathomable expression. In watching her, he’d been exploring his own thoughts on the matter of life and death and grief.
It was a subject he was quite familiar with.
He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping her in a grounding embrace. “You were very brave today.” he noted quietly. “And I’m sorry that you had to be.”
She sniffed against his shoulder. “...All things end.” she muttered, “And I knew it was coming. Though, to be honest, that doesn't really make it hurt any less.”
“No. I’m sure it doesn’t.” he replied. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
She desperately did want someone to stay with her. She wanted nothing more than to be held and soothed and made to feel less alone in her grief…but him staying and doing such a thing would be against the agreement of his coming here in the first place.
“...You want to start a riot in the House?” she asked, putting on a brave face for him, “‘Cause that’s a fast way to get one. Neither of us would hear the end of it if you stayed…so, no. As much as I'd love to have you, you should go.”
He sighed deeply, knowing she was right.
“Don’t think I’ve abandoned what we discussed before you left.” he advised, cupping her face with his hand. “We’ll be seeing you again. Soon, I promise.”
“I know. I haven’t doubted it.” she assured him, her face falling into something serious. “And Lucifer? Before you go, I need you to promise me something else.”
“...And what would that be?” he asked, curiosity peaked.
“Promise me that when my body fails me like Quinnigan’s did, that you’ll offer me the same mercy.” she demanded, her conviction unwavering. “Promise that you’ll help me end it, and that you won’t let me suffer.”
His eyes widened at the request, clearly wanting nothing to do with such a thought.
“Cayrie–-”
“Promise me, Luci.” she insisted, not giving him a chance to argue. “You’re the one I trust to be able to do such a thing. So please tell me you will, if it all comes down to that.”
He closed his eyes and sighed once again, not wanting to fight with her. “...Very well.” he conceded. “If it comes to that…then I'll honor your request.”
“Thank you.” she breathed, giving him one last hug before he had to leave her.
⥈
That night, Cae lay curled up in her bed, surrounded by cold sheets and deep sorrow. The bed was exceptionally empty without Mammon or Quinnigan to cuddle up against, and it made it very hard for her to fall asleep.
While she lay there, sniffling as tears fell down her face, she felt a tingling sensation spread against her back.
As it grew in intensity, a phantom weight pressed itself against her, laying against her shoulders as Quinnigan had loved to do - and in her mind's eye she saw him there.
Lithe and healthy, fur silky and kept clean, his green-gold eyes looking up at her with the brightness of vitality and life that he’d been missing in those final days of his.
She choked on a smile and stretched her arm over her shoulder, reaching around to give the empty space the good skritches he’d loved in life. She could see him tip his head up to meet her fingers, giving her that loving, feline smile that told her he was content. She could feel him against her with a striking clarity that took her breath away, even though there was nothing tangible for her to actually touch.
There was no denying that he was there with her, and that’s where he stayed until she finally calmed and drifted off to sleep.
Even death was unable to separate them, such was the bond they had shared. Ever the faithful, vigilant, and loving guardian he'd been in life, Quinnigan had navigated the veil to comfort her through her grief, and there he would stay - always near the heart of the human who had loved him, for as long as she needed him to be.
🎵 Aurora - Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1) 🎵
"She holds my body in her arms
she didn't mean to do no harm
and she holds me tight
She did it all to spare me from
the awful things in life that comes
and she cries and cries
I know she knows
that she's killing me for mercy
and here I go"
.:PART III:.