Chapter Text
Lucifer couldn’t have had a worse month. Literally everything that could have gone wrong did, every reality he wanted to avoid collided with him, and now he was stuck trying to pick up the pieces.
Charlie left for college. Bittersweet, but at least she wouldn’t be too far away. A little over an hour, but it was better than the other side of the country, and he had the comfort of knowing she’d be living with Vaggi. She was such a sweet girl, and he looked out for Charlie like her life depended on it. Lucifer took comfort in that.
His divorce with Lilith was finalized. As much as he didn’t want it to be over, he didn’t want to drag out the process and cause drama. He just couldn’t take it. Lucifer had tried so hard to make things work, even going against his own mental health to do it. And somehow, that ended with Lilith ended up getting the house and their car, and Lucifer had to move out and into an apartment. He was awarded half the value of both assets, but that meant nothing when the love of his life, the mother of his child, was already entertaining a new man.
Being married to him wasn’t easy, he knew that, especially since they had Charlie when they were seventeen. But he thought they did well enough for themselves. That through all the back-breaking work and commitment to his family, he found himself a partner who would always be with him. In truth, Lilith only stayed with him until Charlie graduated high school and left immediately after the party. No note, no call, just radio silence followed by divorce papers being sent in the mail. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he read it, and wished he could have spared Charlie find out within minutes of him opening the envelope.
Then his followup with his doctor. He had felt off for months, and thought maybe his depression was affecting his health again. Just to be safe, he went to the doctor and had some tests done. He was expecting an increase in his antidepressants, not a brain cancer diagnosis. He had already started receiving chemo-therapy and lost all his hair, and he paid for a wig to hide it. Worse though was that he still hadn’t been able to tell Charlie about it. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to see her so bad. But he also didn’t want to burden her with panic and worry. Her first semester had only just started, and she was still recovering from her mom divorcing him.
And now this. Fired from Vox Enterprise for “abusing his sick days,” getting thrown out of his apartment for some violation that sounded like bullshit, with nowhere to go to seek cover from the rain.
So, here he was. A couple bags of clothes and his cancer meds, homeless, sick, and unsure what he was gonna do. He put most of what he got from the divorce into a trust for Charlie. In case something happened to him. The rest was money out of his savings, and most of it went to getting treatment. How was he supposed to survive like this? Go grovel to Lilith for help? His heart would probably give out on him before he could manage it. Go to his parents or siblings? They scratched out of every family memory by now. And for what? Because Lucifer was having a baby with his high school sweetheart. The sweetheart they didn’t like. Who they wanted him to break up with and have nothing to do with her or her “hellspawn” ever again.
Yeah, no. That ship hadn’t just sailed. It got swept up in a storm and sank to the bottom of the ocean.
He considered his friends from high school, but they all lived out of state, and Lucifer was in no position to suddenly move and change doctors. It took him years just to trust the one he had. Changing that now would make getting treatment a bigger nightmare than it already was.
Lucifer climbed the steps to some building. It looked cute, and it had a decent awning that he could take shelter under. He was still wet, but at least now he wouldn’t get drenched. If he was lucky, maybe there’d be enough warmth to keep him comfortable throughout the night. He wasn’t sure how he’d get comfortable without his blankets or pillows. The ones that were still in his former apartment. He would have to go back and beg the landlord to let him get his stuff. Maybe if he mentions his family album and everything, she’d be sympathetic, but Lucifer wasn’t counting on it.
“Care to come inside, Sir?” A smooth voice said.
Lucifer turned his head, using his free hand to keep his wig in place. Standing in the doorway was a tall man in his late 20s to early 30s, with curly brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and somewhat dark skin. He had a charming smile and he dressed well, black non-slip shoes with khakis, a white buttonup shirt, with a pair of round, thin-rimmed glasses on his face, a black spectacle cord that dangled from the sides of his glasses, and a red apron tied around his waist.
A quick glance made Lucifer think “waiter,” which concluded that the building was a restaurant. He chuckled nervously when he realized this, then hoped the man wouldn’t try to make him leave.
“Sorry-”
“Was I accusing you of anything?”
“Well, no-”
“Then why don’t you come inside? It looks like a downpour is coming, I doubt the awning will be able to keep you dry.”
Lucifer didn’t know whether to be infuriated by the guy interrupting him, or relieved that someone thought he deserved some decency. He settled for a huff but then nodded. The guy held the door open and Lucifer walked in, bags in hand. He was greeted with the smell of spice and the sound of old jazz. It was a decent sized cafe, with windows large enough to give the guests a view of the park across the street, as well as an outdoor eating area. There was an entire counter with barstools set up in front of them, and machinery for making every type of coffee but drip. Everything had a natural, earthy feel to it. Lively in its own way, but also comforting.
How such a charming place was empty on a day like today was beyond Lucifer.
“Take a seat at the bar. I’ll make you something to warm you up. On the house.” The guy said, walking around Lucifer and getting to work.
Lucifer stared before approaching the bar. “Uh…thanks. But aren’t you going to get in trouble with your boss?”
“HA!” The guy barked out. “Appreciate the concern, but this is my cafe. And I’m in no mood to fire anyone, least of all myself.”
Lucifer couldn’t help but chuckle at this. God, when was the last time he felt like he could laugh?
“My bad,” Lucifer said with a smile, holding up his hands before climbing onto the stool. “Never seen this place before. Did you just open…uh…?”
The guy’s lip curved up a little more and he hummed in the affirmative. “Alastor DeMort. And yes, almost two weeks ago, now. It’s been a rough adjustment, but it’s been worth it.”
Lucifer gave him a smile. “Congratulations,” he said, shuffling a little in his seat. He was happy for the guy. He was. But it felt hard to talk about good things for other people when most everything happening in his life felt like the rug was pulled out from under him.
“Thank you, Sir,” Alastor said before passing Lucifer a cup.
“Lucifer Morningstar,” he said with much less conviction than Alastor before he took the mug.
Lucifer could tell by the smell that it was a dark roast, and the way the light reflected off the liquid, he also knew it was brewed to be strong. That was good. Strong coffee was one of the few things he could still enjoy whenever his appetite was gone. Lucifer wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the notes in the coffee weren’t just bold. They were nutty, bitter and sweet, with a taste like caramel with far less sugar. The coffee itself also seemed thicker than normal, but not in a way Lucifer minded. If anything, it made him feel more at ease than he had been since before Lilith left. If only for a moment.
“This is great,” Lucifer said, staring down at his mug before lifting his head to meet Alastor’s gaze. “This your house blend?”
Alastor chuckled. “Roasted chicory coffee, and yes, it is with the house blend. It’s our signature drink.”
Lucifer lowered his mug. “Chicory root? That’s what people put in their coffee in New Orleans.” The statement made Alastor beam. “Is that where you’re from?”
Alastor nodded and began preparing a second cup. “I am. But I moved up here for college, and my mother moved up here the year I graduated.”
Lucifer chuckled. “My daughter just started college herself. She got a full ride into Eden University,” he said trailing off.
“Ah, wonderful! An Eden Dame. I went to Soulfall just across the lake,” Alastor said, lifting a new cup of coffee to his lips.
“You. A Soulfall Gent?”
Alastor nodded. “Indeed.” The men shared a laugh, then Alastor looked back at Lucifer, leaning his free arm onto the counter. “The way you talk makes me think: Eden Alumni. Is that a reach?”
Lucifer shook his head with a smile. “I was an Eden Lad. Double major while working full time and raising a daughter.”
Alastor inhaled some of his coffee and struggled to swallow it instead of spitting it out. Then he started barking a laugh again. “Good Lord, man! When did you sleep?”
“I didn’t,” Lucifer said with a smirk.
They chuckled some more before Lucifer looked back down at his mug. Remembering better times was a small relief, but it also served to remind him of his present. That everything was terrible and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change it. Sick, homeless, jobless, no idea where to go, no clear direction except to keep getting chemo until his savings dried up. Then he was just fucked. Then he would just die. And Charlie would go into her adult life alone, without even her mother to care.
“What stage is it?”
Alastor’s question broke through Lucifer’s haze. The weight he felt on him suddenly increased, and it was not helped when he locked eyes with the owner. His smile was still there, but was smaller. Softer. More sad as he stared at Lucifer with a mixture of worry and knowing.
His chin shook as his lips quivered and he tried to compose his gaze. Alastor couldn’t possibly know what Lucifer hadn’t even told Charlie. “I…” Lucifer started before clearing his throat. His voice was shaking too much, and when he spoke next, it was only marginally better. “I don’t know-”
“When I stepped out and spoke to you, you moved your hand to the side of your head to keep your wig in place. Someone important to me did the same thing when she was first diagnosed. That combined with how sick you look makes it easier for me to tell,” Alastor said, his smile turning into a frown. “And like her, you look like someone whose life was flipped on its head in one foul swoop.”
Lucifer sat there, his eyes blown wide. His body started shaking again, and he felt more cold than he did in the rain. He didn’t want to talk about it. He couldn’t. It’s no one else’s business. This was his burden. His cross to bear.
No one needed to worry about him.
No one should worry about him.
It wasn’t necessary.
“I think that daughter of yours would beg to differ,” Alastor said, his gaze hardening a little.
Again, Lucifer froze. Had he been thinking out loud?
“You were,” the cafe owner said before grabbing a rag and wiping down his work station. “And as someone who’s been in her shoes, she’d want to know sooner rather than later. If you two are even half as close as you seem to be, she’ll want to be there for you in any way that she can,” he added, his eyes softening again.
Lucifer stared at him for a good few moments using his free arm to rub his eyes. A habit he picked up to make sure his wig didn’t slip off his head. “She just started her first semester-”
“School won’t be half as enjoyable or worth it if she finds out she’s been attending while you’ve been fighting this disease by yourself,” Alastor countered with ease, that same knowing look intensifying.
“She’s still processing her mother leaving us-”
“She’ll be processing a lot worse if you leave her for good and she wasn’t there to support you,” came the immediate response.
“She’s in no position to help me,” Lucifer said.
“Emotional support is still support, Lucifer,” Alastor said, leaning onto the counter with both hands, his voice somehow both soft and stern. “If she’s able to do nothing else, she can be there to check on you, spend time with you, reassure you, comfort you.”
“It won’t last!” Lucifer yelled, slamming his mug on the counter, coffee sloshing against the edges of the cup. “I’ve lost everything! I have nothing but her. No family, no wife, no home, no job! I’ve been kicked at every angle I could and I have nothing and no one! I can’t be a burden to her! She deserves a future! Even if…”
Lucifer panted, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over. “Even if I’m not there for it…” he finished, his voice dying out.
A hand lifted Lucifer’s chin. Alastor’s soft smile was back, his eyes still knowing and flooded with worry, but somehow seemed warmer. “In that case, consider yourself hired,” Alastor said.
Lucifer blinked at him, his eyes widened and dried out. “What?”
Alastor leaned back. “I’m a little short staffed here. You can wait tables. It’s $20 an hour, and you get tips. As for your schedule, you'll work when you have the strength to, and be off on the days you're too sick or have your appointments,” Alastor said leaning back.
“Huh?” Lucifer’s brain so eloquently responded for him. This guy couldn't be serious.
Alastor hummed, placing a hand to his chin. “Your living situation will be a little harder to handle. None of my friends have room, and the only landlord I know loves to twist people's arms with rent and utilities. Hm….” Alastor looked away for a few seconds before moving his hand away from his chin, swinging it across his chest and snapping his fingers. “You can stay in my guest room. It's just a short jaunt from here, and I'm sure you're daughter will be less worried if you’re living with a friend.”
“The fuck?” Lucifer said, pushing himself away from the counter. “Why would you offer that? We literally just met,” Lucifer said.
“And in less than half an hour, I learned that you’re a loving father with no family you can rely on, no work and no home who’s fighting cancer. You're pleasant company and you don't want to burden or worry your daughter. You are exactly the kind of man I believe deserves help, so I'm willing to give it,” Alastor said, sipping his coffee.
“But-”
“Lucifer,” Alastor interrupted, giving him a hardened glare. “If you’re about to say anything about being a burden to me, or taking advantage of me, you're not. So get the notion out of your head. If I have an issue with you, believe me, I'll tell you. Now please, just…let me?”
The air was tense then and Lucifer just stared at Alastor, triple checking that he heard right. Because for the life of him, he couldn’t remember when someone last asked if they could help him. Could it be when Charlie was little? His college friends occasionally babysat for him and Lilith, but outside of that…
Really, when was the last time?
Lucifer rubbed his eyes with his arm again, fending off tears while a lump formed in his throat. Then he looked back at Alastor. He was still there. Still waiting. No agitation or impatience, just knowing and sympathy.
After several more seconds, Lucifer gave him a nod. “Okay,” he said in a hushed tone.
“Thank you,” Alastor said, standing straight and his smile beaming. He extended his hand across the counter. “Welcome to the Crawzy Café.”