my_own_advocate | Lucifer's Mansion, Very Early Saturday Morning

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Lucifer's Mansion, Very Early Saturday Morning

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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"I told you the secret to Hell, didn't I?" Lucifer asked lifting his glass. "I didn't scour the air looking for sinners to snap up. You lot came to Hell of your own accord. Because you felt guilty. Because you felt you needed to be punished."

He took a sip.

"You're putting yourself through Hell right now, and it certainly isn't 'because you did what you had to do'."

And for the second time tonight, Octavia snapped.

"I was already queen of my own Hell, okay! Is that what you want to hear?"

She wouldn't have thought she had energy left for yelling at him like that. Guess she was wrong, because the words came out loud and angry, which was the shield she needed for actually looking up at him, now.

"I carried -- I carry everyone else's sins, on top of my own!"

"Better."

Lucifer was used to far worse than being screamed at. At least now he met her eyes.

"Makes you itch, doesn't it?" he asked, and surprised himself, strangely, by saying that. "Stacking sin upon sin until you're no longer certain which ones are actually yours?"

"And no one else can tell the difference."

That was slightly more of a growl than it was any more yelling.

"They rarely do," Lucifer said. Watching her, now. "Can you?"

Octavia's face looked oddly defiant. Probably because it had to. "Yes."

Problem was, that didn't help.

Lucky her. Lucifer couldn't, anymore.

"Then tell me which part you feel guilty for," Lucifer said. "Then have a drink and a lie down."

Octavia shook her head.

Her boody immediately made her regret it, and she grimaced and shut her eyes tightly at the sudden wave of woozy nausea passing through her.

Lucifer sighed.

Set his drink down.

Walked towards her.

"Octavia," he said. "You are a very stubborn woman, but you have made your point, and then some."

Octavia said nothing. But, this time that was just because she was making sure nothing was about to come rising up from her gut.

Not that she'd actually eaten much today.

Lucifer reached for her hand. "Come on, now. There's a guest room around the corner."

Though with the look on her face, he was halfway afraid she wasn't going to get much further than the distance to his bed, and not in the fun way.

Octavia flinched when his hand met hers, just because she hadn't expected it. Her eyes blinked open again.

They were a lot shinier than they had been when she'd closed them. She swallowed, and nodded.

Like he'd said, she was stubborn. She could make it to a guest room.

"Come," he said again, quietly.

And tugged her slowly towards the door.

Octavia's legs felt unsteady again. They hadn't even taken any of the damage, but all adrenaline had long since left her system, and she felt sapped of all energy.

Still, she moved with him. Her head hanging again.

Lucifer took her into the hallway. He hadn't been lying: the guest room was right around the corner, complete with queen bed (ha) and too-expensive sheets.

"It's yours for as long as you need it," he said, letting go of her hand once they crossed the treshold.

Another unsteady nod.

"Okay." A tear rolled onto her cheek, obscured by her hair, but she didn't feel it. Her lip was aching again. She looked at the room.

It felt wrong, somehow. Too grand for someone who'd done what she had.

"Thanks."

It wasn't like Lucifer had a whipping closet full of thorns for her to sit in. He was kind of hoping never to do that sort of thing again, actually.

"Can you sit down?"

Octavia was one of his, but not that degree.

Another swallow, another shuddery breath. Then, all her movement looking slightly robotic, she walked over to the bed. Sat down on the edge of it, gingerly, suddenly aware of bruises she hadnt checked for but could feel were there.

She looked up again.

Lucifer sat down next to her. Gingerly. "You'll have to deal with what you did, my dear," he said frankly. "But not tonight."

Octavia was already dealing with it.

Her voice was quiet, and just a little bit broken. "He's never going to forgive me."

"You did make a mess of it," Lucifer allowed, snaking a careful arm around her shoulders.

"I didn't mean to," Octavia said, weakly. She of all people knew that didn't matter. It was just like she'd told Ilian all those years ago.

"But a sword doesn't care what you meant."

"No," Lucifer agreed quietly. "You may want to give him some space."

He leaned in to press a kiss to her temple.

Look, tonight was just-- a big bloody mess.

Octavia let him, somehow.

More tears escaped. She shut her eyes tightly again. "I can't go home," she mumbled. "I know that."

Well, she'd had a good run of... what, two weeks?

"Not that particular home, no," Lucifer agreed. He leaned away a bit, considering her. "But you have places to stay."

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