Lucifer's Mansion, Very Early Saturday Morning

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer came back from his shift at the bar - and subsequent trip to the hotel - in decidedly less grand spirits than that he'd started it. Morose Duke was never good, and morose Duke over-- whatever that incredible mess was...

It had Lucifer wishing Seivarden had been around for some distraction. He hadn't exactly been in the mood to pick up somebody new, especially not after Duke had told him everything.

At least sleep would probably do him good. He let out a sigh and turned the last corner towards his house, keys already in hand.

Wait. Was there someone sitting on the steps?

[[ for someone; CW for mentions of self-harm and suicidal ideation ]]

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[okteiviakom]

There was someone sitting on the steps. Someone had been sitting on the steps for quite a while, actually.

Octavia had stayed in the hold on the Rouge for -- Actually, she had no solid guesses as to how long. Until her vision had started clearing, anyway. And then she'd gotten up and, just.

Left.

Because she'd realized what she'd done, and couldn't stay. Not in Duke's home. And she couldn't go on her own boat because that was not far enough away. So. Here she was, sitting on Lucifer's steps, looking drained, wrung out. There was dried blood still on her chin and on her hands.

Welcome home, Morningstar.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer sucked in a deep breath and looked her over, taking in her pallor and all the blood.

Yes, she'd gotten Duke to get her good.

"I just can't seem to escape you people this week," he said, voice light. "If you're going to stalk me, you might as well get up, because I'm heading inside."

He was tired and he was just not going to fight this one tonight.

[okteiviakom]

Good, because Octavia had nothing left in her for a fight, either. She stood up slowly, wincing a little but only barely. She hurt all over.

She said nothing. Not even to ask whether Lucifer's lack of a big reaction to the blood meant Duke had been at the Devil's Nest.

She assumed so, anyway.

[my_own_advocate]

Good assumption.

Lucifer unlocked his door and opened it. And then held it open, eyebrows raised at her.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia shuffled in past him, her head down.

She knew she would have to say something eventually. But she was drawing it out for as long as she could.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer shut the door behind her. "You're an absolute mess," he said. "The shower is up the stairs, second door to the left."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia couldn't help the snort. For such a small noise, it managed to sound remarkably bitter.

But she nodded (just barely, because her head was pounding) and began to make her way to the stairs.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer sighed, slipping out of his jacket. Did he even have any painkillers around here?

Oh, right. The Seivarden emergency hangover box. He padded into the living room to go find it.

[okteiviakom]

The stairs were murder. Something hurt with every step, whether it was her head, or her hand trying to get some support from the banister. She wondered, very faintly, whether she'd fractured something with the punching bag.

But she made it upstairs. Found the second door on the left.

Managed not to throw up during this whole ordeal.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer found the box and took out the painkillers. He swept across the hall, grabbing a bathrobe from his closet.

Only then did he follow her up the stairs.

"Humans," he muttered. The complaint sounded worried even to his own ears.

[okteiviakom]

Turned out there was blood on everything. Her shirt, her pants. Everything she'd touched.

Octavia thought that was fitting. Then she just... bundled the clothes and got in the shower. The cut on her knuckles stung a little bit extra as it was hit with water, but it was mostly drowned out by the way the tender patch of the back of her head protested the same.

A single, strangled sob bubbled up, forcing its way out.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer knocked once before he opened the door to the bathroom. "I'm putting a robe on the toilet lid," he said, "and some painkillers."

He took the bundle of bloody clothes on his way out. He was probably just going to throw them out.

[okteiviakom]

At his own risk.

Octavia heard him, but didn't answer. That kind of thing didn't really require one anyway, did it? She'd be done soon, anyway. Once the blood was off, at least parts of taking a shower would turn into something soothing, and, well.

She couldn't have that.

[my_own_advocate]

For now, Lucifer was just going to throw them into one of the rooms he hardly used. (He had too many rooms in here. He'd never admit it, but it made him miss his loft in Los Angeles.)

Then he slipped into the bedroom to get himself a drink. He needed it.

[okteiviakom]

Once Octavia was sure all the blood had washed down the drain, she turned the water off.

And went on autopilot. Drying off a little, pulling on the robe. Taking the painkillers she wasn't sure she deserved but which might keep her from throwing up later on. More for Lucifer's benefit than her own.

Then after a while, she drifted out of the bathroom. Examining her hand.

[my_own_advocate]

"I had an interesting conversation with Duke," Lucifer called, from the bedroom.

Standing by the bar with a glass in hand.

[okteiviakom]

A part of Octavia saw that as a reason to go in the exact opposite direction.

The rest of her walked on unsteady feet to his bedroom. Though she stopped right past the doorway, where she could actually see him.

Said nothing.

[my_own_advocate]

"A word of advice," he continued, undaunted, "Next time you decide to punish yourself, maybe don't bounce your head off your easily-traumatized boyfriend's fists."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia looked away.

"I fucked up," she said. Her voice was all rasp, a little hoarse. The opposite of the wet whimper of 'please' that had been the last thing to come out of her mouth before this moment. "I'm aware."

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer sighed. Took an empty glass.

Poured some minty water into it. "Are you injured? Seriously, I mean."

[okteiviakom]

"Might have fractured my hand." On her own, even. "Maybe a concussion."

She'd bounced her head off the steel wall pretty hard, after all.

Not that Octavia sounded like either of those counted for much.

"It's nothing."

[my_own_advocate]

"Remember what I said about the Stoics?" Lucifer asked, holding out the water for her.

[okteiviakom]

"Don't care."

Octavia just stared at the offered water for a moment. Then reached for it --

Then switched hands. Her left hand would be better, probably, so that was what she used to take it.

[my_own_advocate]

"Well, I do care, and it's my doorstep you've decided to leave yourself on," Lucifer informed her. "We'll take you to the clinic in the morning."

[okteiviakom]

"Don't need it."

It was more of a weak kneejerk thing than it was a genuine objection. Octavia took a sip from the glass, then grimaced slightly as the cut on the inside of her lip didn't react well to the mint.

Then she drank more.