Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end.

~

Hot breath billowed down Lute's chest, goosebumps rippling in its wake along her skin. She hissed as Adam's talons raked across her ass.  

“S-Sorry, ‘Tits,” Adam huffed breathlessly into her neck. “Fuckin... claws.” 

Finding her rhythm again, she focused on the electric sensations coursing up her back as she rode him. 

The day she'd found Adam again had been the greatest day of her life—and the worst. Hell had changed him, cursed him, and made him into a mockery of his old self. Deep black fur covered his whole body. Bright, pupilless eyes sat in place of his own, and rough, ridged horns grew from his head, a twisted likeness of his old helmet. 

When she'd seen him... She hadn’t run to embrace him. Hadn't immediately told him what she thought she'd never get to say since losing him and hadn't taken her place at his side again, where she was always meant to be. 

She'd... damn it, she'd went for her sword. Drawing it and threatening to gut the creature who dared parade his likeness around for its own sick amusement. And then... 

Then she'd seen it. The way his face fell, how his shoulders sagged, the first bead of a tear he quickly turned away to hide, and to her horror, she'd realized it was him. Every day since then, she'd tried to make up for it. It was... different, that was certain, but, it was him, he was back. She would take the bad with the good. 

Staying at the Hotel had almost been too much, though. They kept to themselves most of the time. Adam was under some agreement with the brat that he would at least attend her little group therapy sessions, but they'd apparently made no such deal for her. That was fine. She didn't want to see the others, and didn't want to be seen here. She was only here for Adam, and unfortunately, this was where Adam was safest. Even with her defending him, she was only one angel, and thanks to them, angelic steel was not so difficult to acquire here. 

So she stayed secluded in their room, bored nearly out of her mind. She kept herself sane with workouts and what training she could manage in its small confines, eating the meals that Adam retrieved for them, and... well, this would never get old. 

Their breath quickened together, Lute running her fingers through the mane of fur that cascaded down his neck. She hummed, feeling his teeth grazing along her skin. He was close; she'd learned how to spot it a long time ago, and his tells hadn't changed, despite the rest of him. 

She was too, but tried to draw it out as long as she could. When they were together like this, things were almost normal. Almost like they used to be. Almost.

Adam groaned, grip on her hips tightening as he pressed her down to the base. Warmth began to bloom in her hips, her toes curling at the sensation. It pushed her past her own mountaintop, her body shuddering as she sighed against his cheek. They panted, so close that their own hearts hammered together as if they were one. 

If. 

They could never truly be one. She was not capable of such... bonding. She was an angel of death. Her purpose was to take life, and she was good at it. She always took pride in her abilities, and strived to be the best at what she was made to be. That was why Adam had noticed her. That was why she was by his side, why they were this. But... there was no need for a creature such as her to make life, and so she couldn't. Never would she hold the sum of their love in her arms. She had accepted this long ago, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to think about. He probably didn't want them anyway, he'd never had much praise to lay at the idea of being a father. 

“You okay, Lute? I didn't hurt you did I?” Adam murmured into her neck, bringing her back out of her mind. 

“You can't hurt me, Adam,” she replied softly, curling her fingers through his mane.

He made a small noncommittal sound, felt more than heard against her skin. They stayed pressed close together for a while before Adam slowly sunk low, pulling them down against the mattress together. He pulled the sheets up, covering them both up to the chest. 

As she watched him, she could see there was something he was thinking about. Something he wanted to say but didn't know how to say it. He'd always known he was easy to read, it's why he preferred the mask. Was it the same thing she was thinking? He opened his mouth, and she waited for him to speak... but, he didn’t. He snapped his mouth shut, perhaps hoping the darkness they lay in hid that he had even opened it at all. So, she leaned her head in, pressing it to his chest, and he laid his chin on her head, both slowly drifting off to sleep. Another aimless day in Hell notched in their belt. 

~

Lute shook her protein shake, peering out the window at Pentagram City below. It was the same as it always was, constant in its affront to all that was good and virtuous. Even from up here, if you listened close enough, you could hear the screams, violence, and debauchery that carried on at all hours of the day and night, unending. It was a city that never slept, and each time she gazed down at it, she wished she was much higher above, descending on it with a sword in hand. Nothing down here deserved to live, and those that did were lucky Heaven allowed them to. 

Having shaken her breakfast long enough, she let the blinds snap back together, raising the mouth of the cup to her lips. She'd convinced Adam to try one once. He'd made a face before he spat it into the nearest bush. 

‘Uh, that ain't chocolate, babe. That's chalk-colate. Dunno how you drink that shit every day.’ 

She had rolled her eyes and finished it off. It was simple, it tasted fine, and she couldn't imagine ever wanting anything else to start the day.

The rancid taste that washed over her tongue caused her to gag, nearly spewing it all over the room. Rushing to the bathroom, she spat it out in the sink, eyeing the mixer cup dubiously. 

‘The fuck?’ she silently mouthed, peering through the opening at the liquid within. Nothing looked off, nothing smelled– urk! she retched, hand flying to her mouth. Luckily, nothing followed. Her brow furrowed. Had someone done something to her protein powder? How could they have? It stayed in her room, and she was always here. Surely she hadn't missed them sneaking in at night? Washing what remained of the taste of her mouth with some water, she walked back into their bedroom.

Adam snored quietly on their bed, sprawled across it like he'd landed there from orbit. 

“Sir,” she called, rounding their bed and nudging one of his horns. The texture was still unpleasant, but she'd gotten used to it. A small noise welled from the sheets bunched up around his face. 

“Sir, wake up.” She gave his shoulder a firm shake, “Taste this.” 

Adam's ear, pointed and fuzzy and utterly unnatural, perked up, and the mass of black fur that he was began to stir. One golden eye peeked out from under the nest of sheets, before he groaned, pressing his face back into them. 

“Come on babe, I told ya already I hate that stuff.” He grumbled, muffled by the bed. 

“I think someone did something to my powder, it tastes awful.” She shook it for effect, “Taste it, tell me what you think.” 

“You're really not selling me on this, Lute.” he replied.

“Adam!” She hissed, in a way they both knew held no venom.

He sighed, rolling over and scooting back up against the headboard. He dwarfed it, just like everything else in this room, including her, but that was fine. If there was one good thing to be gleaned from his new form, it was that he'd gotten even bigger than before. 

She thrust the drink forward insistently. Adam eyed her with suspicion for a moment, with a look that seemed like he expected this to be some kind of joke. When she didn't smile or pull it back he reached out and took it, giving it an experimental sniff. 

No retching or gagging. He turned the cup up and took two large gulps, much more than she expected, before wiping his mouth and looking back to her. 

“Um... yeah, it still tastes like chalk. Just like last time.” 

Lute scowled, snatching it back. Even the wafting smell of it was enough to make her gag. 

“Shit, you alright babe?” Adam's tone turned concerned, reaching out for her. 

Lute frowned, turning away to go dump it out in the sink. Either one of those cretins downstairs had messed with the powder, or... something! Something was going on and she didn't like it, she just had to figure out what. Her stomach rumbled, and suddenly she realized just how hungry she felt. This didn't just feel like being a few minutes off schedule, all of a sudden she felt positively ravenous. 

“Lute?” Adam's voice snapped her back to the present. She turned to see him stooping in the door frame, concern still etched across his face.

“I'm fine,” she quickly assured, “just... hungry?” It felt strange to even say. She had a very regimented day, even in Hell. Biting hunger like she felt now was entirely unfamiliar to her. 

“Oh... Well, I was gonna go down for breakfast leftovers anyway, want me to grab you something?” 

“I'll come with you,” she said without really thinking, leaving Adam looking as stunned as she felt

“Are you sure you're okay, babe?” He asked, cocking his brow. 

“No?” She replied honestly. 

~

The elevator ride down to the lobby felt as if she were descending into Hell.

Well, further descending that was. She watched as the floors ticked by, crossing her arms a little tighter across her chest. The hand finally fell all the way, striking L on the plate, and with a cliche little chime, the doors slid open. 

No one was waiting outside. Adam craned his head out, checking left to right before patting her on the shoulder.

 “Coast is clear, they're all probably in the middle of a cry-sesh or something, c'mon.” He ducked out and made for the kitchen, Lute following quickly after.  

She cut her eyes back and forth, searching for any sign of the others as they walked. If one of them really was trying to provoke her, she hoped they would come staggering around a corner snickering. It would be all the easier to beat them to a pulp if they identified themselves. 

They slipped into the kitchen, Adam immediately yanking open the fridge door and setting out anything wrapped in foil. Lute eyed everything he set out, but, before she could start to think of what she might want, she caught a different scent. She peered into the fridge, spotting a greasy paper bag shoved toward the back.

 She pulled it out, unrolling it and dumping the contents onto the counter. Wrapped in paper so greasy it was translucent, was some kind of burger and a handful of fries. It should have made her stomach turn, it should have been something that only Adam would eat while she rolled her eyes, but... right now, it was suddenly the only thing she knew could sate her hunger. 

As soon as it was out of the wrapper she tore into it, not bothered in the slightest that it was cold. The mixture of salt and grease and sugar and... oh fuck, it was delicious. Why hadn't she ever eaten one of these before? She tore off another bite, and another, before pausing to lick some ketchup that had oozed out off her fingertips.

“Alright, now I know something's up.” 

She suddenly remembered she wasn't alone, turning her eyes sheepishly up to Adam. 

“You wouldn't eat a burger if your afterlife depended on it in Heaven, now you're scarfing one from Hell down like it's your last meal.” He squinted, leaning on his fist. “What's going on, ‘Tits?”

She felt herself flush with embarrassment, utterly at a loss for what was driving this behavior. It felt... gluttonous, and for her to enjoy it so much surely wasn't a good sign, but... fuck, it was so good. What was going on? 

All of a sudden the kitchen door swung open, the one they called Angel Dust standing stunned in the doorway. For a moment they stared between each other silently, before Adam cleared his throat. 

“Uhh, sup, Spiderslut.” He motioned a small wave with a handful of pancakes.

“ ...Is that my burger?” Angel said incredulously, staring at Lute.

 She looked at him, then Adam, then the burger, then back to him... and took another bite. 

“No?” She said through the mouthful. 

Chapter Text

“Sixty-seven.” Clap. 

“ Sixty-eight.” Clap. 

“Sixty-nine—” 

“Hey, now there's an idea.” Adam interrupted, Lute cutting a glare up to him. He gave a toothy grin in return.

“Seventy.” Clap. 

“Ya know, it was just a couple burgers, Lute.” Adam lay on their bed, head propped on his hand as he watched her doing push-ups. “Not like you're gonna blow up, I mean shit, look at me!” 

Lute stopped, looking up to him with her brow raised, smirking. His own brow furrowed, mouth pulling into a tight line.

“Bitch, you know you love it,” he muttered. 

She did. She really did. Underneath the form Hell had shackled him in, he was still the man she loved. She had left Heaven for that man, but... sometimes she did miss his face. His true face; grinning, with a twinkle in his eyes,  and the sun showing like gold across his earthy brown hair. For him though, she would not complain. Not after seeing that look in his eyes. She had him back, she could live with the rest. 

He let her finish her exercise undisturbed. She'd been eating like trash the last few days, just on the cusp of feeling satisfied, but always just one more bite away. It stopped now though. Tomorrow, it didn't matter how awful it tasted or smelled, she was going to muscle down a protein shake and get back to normal; whatever counted as such in Hell, at least. 

~

Lute's head swam as she stared up at the ceiling, totally awake, entirely against her will. She had felt this way only once before, when Adam had dared her to go drink for drink with him at the annual Christmas party in Heaven. He was larger, more accustomed to drinking, but she would be damned if she was going to let him say he could outmatch her. They'd not been as close then, only coworkers, barely past their second year of Exterminations, but after that, they'd become something special. 

Nothing was special about how she felt right now. Simply rolling over felt like it would cause her to retch, and if somehow it wasn't enough, it felt like someone was sitting on her. Every few minutes, a sharp lance of pain would arc up from her stomach, then recede into the dull pressure she felt now. 

What was happening? Reaching up, she ran her flesh and bone hand along her halo. It still hummed with Heavenly energy, warm to the touch, but it felt... dimmer, somehow. A cold chill ran down her back. Was she falling? It had been eight months since she'd left Heaven, and she hadn't felt any different until now, and if she was, why just her? 

She was not the only Exorcist in Hell, and they had somehow managed to grow their wings back after years! 

But what else was there to explain what was happening to her? It wasn't possible for angels to get sick. Adam had caught something several times since her arrival and she'd never had to worry. They still shared the same bed. Yet here she was, miserable, restless, and in pain. 

She reached over, running a hand along Adam's arm that lay slung over her chest. “Sir?” 

“Hmm?” He woke quicker than she expected, cracking open a glowing eye. 

“Can you... grab me some water?” It felt pathetic to even ask, but with the way she felt right now, standing up was out of the question. 

“Uh... yeah? No problem,” he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he got up, throwing on his cassock and heading for the door. 

“Could you squeeze a bit of lemon into it?” She added, suddenly having a taste for it. 

Adam paused in the doorframe, silhouetted by the hallway light. 

“ ...Everything okay, Lute?” 

The concern in his voice pushed her heart into her throat. 

“I'm fine, Sir,” she answered quickly, “just... tired is all.” 

He lingered for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something, like he wasn't convinced but couldn't figure out why, until finally relenting. 

“Okay, be right back,” he promised, slowly pulling the door shut. He kept his eyes on her until it latched. 

Lute watched the door a little while before hissing, another cramp suddenly lancing up her abdomen. He couldn't know. He'd already been adamant she not leave Heaven for him before, and despite her own secret reservations, she'd convinced him to let her. If he knew now what Hell might be doing to her... 

There was only one person she knew who could tell her for sure or not. One person, that a year ago, she'd sworn to do everything in her power to kill. She was going to have to talk to Lucifer. 

🎸 

Adam didn't worry about anything. Worrying was for pussies who couldn't handle the shit life threw at them. He was the First Man, and he could handle anything, from starting a fire with sticks to suffering this bullshit mistake the universe had somehow made, sacking him down to a demon and stranding him here.

That said, he wondered if this was what worrying felt like; to lesser people, of course. Something was off with Lute; she wouldn't say it, but he could tell. Easily the hardest bitch he'd ever known, and the hottest, but for the last week or so it was like something had cut her legs right out from under her. Her diet had changed, her routine had fallen apart, and for the last few days she'd hardly even gotten out of bed. 

It didn't make sense for her to be sick, and if she wasn't sick, then maybe... maybe it was something else. Maybe she was starting to regret staying with him.

A rough nudge to his shoulder yanked him out of thought.

“Damn, what?” He snapped, looking at Husk. Then he realized everyone was watching him, Charlie's “Redemption Exercises” apparently having been put on pause while he'd zoned out.  How could they expect him not to? This shit was lame as fuck.

“It's your turn,” Charlie said, “for the good deeds challenge? What good deeds have you done this week, Adam?”

Adam frowned, crossing his arms. He hated this kindergarten bullshit, but Lucifer had made it clear this was the only way he and Lute were staying, and unfortunately he no longer had holy light to tell that manlet to get bent.

“I went to get Lute dinner,” he shrugged, fully satisfied with his answer. 

“How thoughtful!” Charlie smiled, “Anything else?” 

“Uhh... I got her a glass of water the other night?”

“Ever tried doing something for someone you're not sleeping with?” Vaggie deadpanned, sat beside Charlie on the couch.

“Eat it, Vaj,” Adam snapped, both of them glaring daggers at one another.

“ Adam,” Charlie warned

Then it dawned on him. Vaggie. Vaggie would know if it was an effect of Hell on angels or not. ‘ For fuck sake, why did it have to be her?’

It was as monumental a task as swallowing glass, and no more pleasant, but he realized what he was going to have to do, and forced out a short “Sorry ,” to preserve the chance of it happening. Everyone had the gall to look surprised. 

“What?” Adam asked, annoyed.

Charlie and Vaggie shared a look, a mixture of confusion on the former's part and suspicion on the latter's. 

“Well, uh, that's everyone for the good deed challenge this week!” Charlie changed the subject with the grace of a train wreck, addressing the group as a whole. Vaggie tried to appear as if she'd stopped paying him any mind as well, but... with one eye that was kind of difficult. 

“Great job, guys!” Charlie continued, “As always, if anyone wants to follow-up, Vaggie and I will be in the office for the next hour.” 

With that everyone got up and went their separate ways... all except for him, which they both took notice of quickly. 

“Adam?” Charlie asked, “do you need something?” 

 Adam stared at the floor between them. The amount of times he could recall actually choosing his words carefully could be counted on one hand, almost all of them after having done something to upset Sera. This was different though. The alternative wasn't just enduring another annoying browbeating.

“Yeah uh,” he fiddled with his horns, as he found himself doing since gaining them. “Can we talk in that office of yours?” 

🎸

Adam sat down a little too heavily in the chair before Charlie's desk, but after a moment's silence, everyone seemed content to pretend they hadn't heard it crack. 

“So, Adam... what can we help you with?” For once, Charlie's bubbly optimism actually sounded forced. Vaggie leered at him from behind her.  It was in some way encouraging that they were as uncomfortable as he was. “Need some suggestions for next week's good deeds challenge?” 

Nevermind . There was nothing good about this situation. This sucked, and if it were anyone else, anyone but Lute, well they'd just have to suck it up. But it wasn't. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking at Vaggie again, who eyed him with suspicion. 

“So uh, Vags—”

“Vaggie,” his former subordinate growled. A spark of anger flared in him, the kind he'd felt when being dressed down like this in Sera's office many times before, but he stifled it, gritting his teeth. 

“Right, my bad, anyway...” He trailed off. Another pause. “Look, I don't really know how else to ask this but... heh, umm,” Adam fiddled with his horns. “You know that saying ‘Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?’” 

Vaggie's mouth parted slightly. 

“Well, um... did it?”

There was a beat. 

...

The noise he made when Vaggie snatched him by the throat wasn't something he was proud of.

“Vaggie!” Charlie gasped.

 It felt like a steel trap had closed on his throat. She yanked him halfway across the desk as if he weighed nothing at all. Instinctively, his hands went to pry hers off, only to slide helplessly off her wrist. 

“L-Lute!” he rasped, gambling the remaining air in his lungs. “Something’s— ack! —wrong with Lute!” 

“Vaggie, wait,” Charlie said more softly, laying a hand gently on her partner's arm. Conflict warred behind Vaggie's gaze, easy to read as the words on a page. He'd seen it before, back when she was his underling, back when she trusted him, or hadn't stopped trusting him entirely, at least. Back then he'd delighted in seeing right through her. How easy it had made his decision that she had to go. 

What did she see in his eyes now? 

Her grip on his scruff loosened, just enough that he sucked in a greedy breath, coughing hoarsely. She grimaced, fully releasing him to stumble back into the chair, which groaned in further protest. 

He coughed a couple more times, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Shit, right for the throat, huh?”

Both of them shot him a look that was clear as crystal. ‘You're on thin fucking ice, asshole.’ 

He decided for once not to push his luck. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Charlie led, sparing him stumbling back through what he'd already sputtered out. 

“She's... Listen, don't tell her I told you this shit, alright? She'll lose her mind. But... something's knocked her on her ass. She's hardly getting out of bed, but barely sleeping. Looks like she's about to puke half the day, and can't eat anything she used to. Look, I’ll admit, the greaseballs you fucks call burgers down here are alright, but Lute would never touch that shit in a million years, and it's all she's had for a week. Shit was like a light switch, one minute she was fine, then she wasn't.” 

Again, that awful silence. Charlie looked like she was actually thinking about what he had said, but Vaggie still bore nothing but contempt in her eyes. Which was fine, fuck her. He didn’t need, nor want to be friends with any of them. He just needed to know if there was something physically wrong with Lute. He found himself thinking of one of Charlie’s little pep talks, strangely enough. How, “Saying sorry was the first step in recognizing what you did was wrong.” 

He wasn't wrong, no matter how many strange feelings had begun to drift around at the back of his mind since his first night in Hell. He wasn't wrong, and he wasn't sorry, but Vaggie didn't need to know that. 

“Look, I'm sorry—” 

“Don't!” Vaggie snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare.” 

Adam glowered before relenting, leaning back into the chair. For a moment they remained at a silent impasse, neither of them willing to budge any further. 

“Is she depressed?” Charlie spoke his worst fear into being.

“ What? No! No fuckin— “ Adam caught himself. “Lute’s the baddest bitch I know. She doesn't get depressed .” ‘But she'd tell me if she did, right?’ “Come on, be serious.”

“I am!” Charlie exclaimed. 

Adam shook his head, “No way. There's got to be something physical going on. Some weird Hell shit. I always had a headache the day after an Extermination.”

“Because you were hungover,” Vaggie pushed out through grit teeth.

Adam shot her a glare that bounced off her expression like a pebble against plate armor.

“It's worth humoring, I think, Adam.” Charlie interjected. 

Of course it was worth humoring, that was exactly why he didn’t want to. He'd been ready to never see her again, and then along she'd come. He'd tried to tell her to go back, to forget he existed, but she'd refused, sticking to him like glue, just as she always had. He was prepared to never see her again, but now that he had, he didn't want her to go.

“Why?” Adam picked at his claws, eyes dropping. “She said she wanted to stay; and why wouldn't she tell me if she was?”

Vaggie rolled her eye, leaning against Charlie’s chair with her arms crossed. “Maybe she just remembers what happened the last time someone had second thoughts.” 

Adam sputtered, something between outrage and shock vying for control. “That's not—! I wouldn't— Fuck off ,” he hissed, the chair screaching across the floor as he shoved himself back from Charlie's desk. “Should have known you two would be about as helpful as a— as a...” ‘Don’t call them cunts. Or bitches. Or anything else you'd really like to right now. Nothing that could affect Lute's comfort. 

  “...Whatever, thanks for nothing.” He turned and stormed towards the door. 

“Adam, wait!” Charlie called. and he could hear her footsteps quickly follow him. Just as he was about to yank the door open, she appeared at his side, pressing her hand against it. He grit his teeth, cutting his eyes to her. She was making that face. That stupid, genuine, invested face. He hated it. Hated her looking at him like some kicked puppy. 

“What?” He grumbled. 

“Vaggie may be right.” 

He twisted the knob open and pulled, but Charlie pressed her weight into it and actually stopped the door opening. He growled beneath his breath, annoyed at the reminder of how weak he'd become since waking up here. 

“Just listen, Adam,” she implored, “You can have the next week off from lessons, just listen.” 

Adam cocked a suspicious brow. What could she have to say that was worth that much to her? He looked over his shoulder at Vaggie, who seemed just as confused as he was. That was interesting. Fine, if anything he'd hear her bleeding heart out then have a week off to focus on Lute. 

He dropped his hand from the doorknob, leaning against it and crossing his arms. He shrugged, waiting for Charlie to speak. She seemed to take a moment to collect her thoughts, wringing her hands nervously.

“I don't know Lute,” she began, “but I can gather the only reason she's in Hell is for you.” 

Adam would have made a duh face, but better judgement prevailed considering the circumstances. 

“But, if she was homesick , as it were, she might not feel like she can tell you, because of... you know.”

Adam frowned, “That's bullshit, Lute trusts me. ” 

“I trusted you,” Vaggie interjected lowly. She bore down on him, “Have you considered she probably can't go back? No one had a problem with you leaving me for dead in an alley, just for letting one Sinner live. What do you think they'd do to someone who abandoned their post for one? ”

Adam scowled , “I'm not—” 

“Don't start,” Vaggie snapped. He looked to Charlie for some kind of reprieve from Vaggie’s dressing down, but found her only in silent agreement. He didn't have to take this. He didn't have to listen to these two. He was the First Man, not some schoolboy to be chided. The only problem was... what if they were right? What if she regretted staying, but couldn't go back? If she could visit, that wouldn't be so bad, but if she was stuck here, and it was his fault... What if she started to resent him? 

“So... what do I do?” He finally asked. 

Charlie thought for a moment, “You do what you can. Let her know that you love her, that you can tell something's wrong, and you want to help.” 

“And if I can't?” Adam said lowly. 

“Well, I think you can.” Charlie smiled, stepping away from the door and to Vaggie's side. 

He didn't like that answer, but he knew in his heart there was nothing else really to say. He turned the knob and ducked through the door, looking back at them for a moment. 

“Uh... Thanks. I guess,” he muttered out before pulling it shut. It felt like one of his meetings with Sera, but he couldn't decide if that was bad or good...

Sera! He needed to speak with Sera. She'd listen to him. If Lute had been branded a traitor, he'd take the fall for it. That he'd lured her here, wouldn't let her leave. They'd buy it, then Lute wouldn't have to worry about being stuck here. They could still be... something, just not what they'd been. His mind swam as he made his way back to their room, trying to decide how to approach this. 

Reaching the door, he took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself. This serious shit was never his gig, but there wasn't any getting out of it this time. 

“Lute?” He called softly, slowly opening the door. 

Their room was dark, and Lute was gone. 

~

Lute stood before Lucifer's door. Bone white,  in stark contrast to every other door in the building, with an elaborate relief of an apple and serpent in red and gold. He really had no shame. 

She'd waited to take her chance when the Princess’s lessons were going on, least likely to encounter anyone else.  All night she'd strategized how to approach this, but there was one critical, unavoidable problem. He was the Devil; The Father of Lies, the Great Deceiver... for all she knew, he could be the one doing this to her, and he needed only play the fool until she lost her temper. 

So that simply could not happen. She was a warrior, spun from the divine aether to destroy the spawn of Hell, she could outsmart him, she could—

The door opened and suddenly she was eye to eye with Lucifer himself. 

“Oh shit!” Lucifer shouted in a high pitch, both of them flinching in surprise. When he focused, he quickly recomposed himself, expression morphing from shock to suspicion. “What are you doing? Were you just standing there?”, adjusting his hat. He looked past her, then  eyed her up and down. “Shouldn't you be lurking in that oaf's shadow or something?” 

Lute tried to say something, but the Devil himself had just squealed like an old lady who'd seen a cockroach and all her planning had flown the coop. 

“Trying to catch a fly?” Lucifer quipped, and she realized her mouth was open. 

She scowled, snapping it shut, “We need to talk.”

“I can't fathom why that would be the case.” He leaned on his cane disinterestedly. 

Her feathers bristled in anger, and for a moment nothing would have pleased her more than to slap him across the face, but she reigned herself in, swallowing her anger like a bitter pill. “Something's wrong with me.” 

“I can't help your taste in men, swee—” 

“Would you shut up and listen!” She hissed. Anger flared on Lucifer's face, but just as he seemed ready to slam the door in her face, that sharp, stinging pain surged up her abdomen and she gasped breathlessly, nearly going to her knees. She clutched her stomach, trying to catch her breath. There was silence between them for a moment as she did, until Lucifer finally broke it.

“What is... What's your symptoms?” The trepidation in his voice sounded genuine, as well as she could judge, but she reminded herself who she was dealing with. 

“What does falling feel like?” She had no time for beating around the bush. If she was, she needed to prepare herself to tell Adam, if she wasn't, she'd survive.

Lucifer fell silent again. The pain receded and she straightened her posture, meeting his eyes again. She might not have slapped him, but she might as well have. He didn't let much on, but his expression had shifted. He looked almost like Adam did when some schmuck fresh through the Gates had come to pester him with questions about his past. Sadness that wore a guise of indifference. It was strange to see them share something, even if it was just a look. 

His mouth drew into a line, brow furrowing. “You're not falling,” his monotone starkly contrasted the aloof confidence she knew him for, enough that she almost believed him. There had to be some way of knowing for sure. 

“How do I know you're telling the truth?” 

Now Lucifer did look angry. “Because you have this.” She felt her halo flush uncomfortably hot, like she was standing beneath a furnace. Lucifer’s eyes glowed menacingly under the shadow of his hat, and she shied from his gaze. “Now if you're done ruining my morning, I—” His eyes widened, gaze falling to her stomach.

Lute felt a chill run through her; tones she could misinterpret, sarcasm she could miss, but she knew faces. She'd grown intimately familiar with genuine shock in her time as an Exorcist. She had seen it player over a thousand times over on the faces of those laid to waste by her blade. True, genuine shock, and there it was, unmistakable on the King of Hell's face. 

“What?” She asked anxiously.  

“That's not possible,” he met her gaze again, “You're... “

🎸

He wasn't panicking. He wasn't. The First Man didn't panic. He was just out of breath from running.

Fuck, he was panicking. 

He nearly fell onto his face as he landed heavily in the lobby, looking around wildly. 

Angel and Cherri were sprawled across the couch on their phones, Husk was leaning on the bar wiping out a glass, Vaggie and Charlie sat together by the fire, and Nifty had cornered a roach, telling it to beg for its life. All of their heads snapped up when he impacted the floor.

“Did she come through here?!” He uttered out breathlessly.

Angel cocked a confused eyebrow. “Who, you're psycho girlfriend?” 

“Yes!” 

“Uh... no?”  

“Fuck!” He shouted, making for the door. Just as he was about to rip it open, he heard her call him from above. 

“Adam!” echoed down through the atrium, and he rushed to the center of the lobby, looking up. She descended like a falling star, silhouetted by the blood red sky shining through the lightwell. 

She landed in front of him, stumbling forward, pale, eyes wide, visibly shocked. 

“Fuck, Lute, I thought you'd left,” he wrapped her up in hug, his hulking frame almost swallowing her up entirely. She was so tense, not returning the embrace. 

“Lute, I'm gonna talk to Sera,” he had to tell her his plan before he lost her. “We’ll get you back to Heaven babe, I promise.”

“Adam...” She whispered. 

“I know I'm a fucking freak now, and you shouldn't be stuck down here just because I am...” He rambled on.

“Adam,” She said again, her voice rising. 

“It'll be alright babe, we can still visit on the weekends, just don't hate me, please...” 

“Adam!” She grabbed him by the face, forcing his eyes to meet hers. 

He wasn't ready to lose her. Please, God, not her... 

“I'm pregnant...” her voice trembled, tears beading in her eyes. 

It was as if all Hell stilled in that moment, the entire universe reduced to him, her, and the impossible she'd spoken into existence.

“What?” He whispered. 

The sharp chime of the desk bell turned everyone's head. Charlie gasped, and Adam's fur stood on end.

Her red-violet horns glimmered in the firelight, deep purple eyes shimmering like sapphires. “Apologies, am I interrupting ? I'd like to check-in, if there’s room.” 

“Mom?” Charlie's voice was just above a whisper.

Lilith smiled, “It's good to see you again, Charlie.”