Amongst Lovely Things (1/?) (Claire, Lucifer, Dean/Castiel | R)
Title: Amongst Lovely Things (1/?)
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Claire, Lucifer, Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Jesse
Betas: sweetsyren and krystalicekitsu
Word count: 2404
Summary: As Team Free Will search for Jesse, Lucifer comes across a curious thing.
"The most effective kind of education is that a child should play amongst lovely things."- Plato
Her back itches. Right between the shoulder blades. It's a constant. Since that day. Since he left them again. It's as consistent as the way her teacher watches her. As her mother thinks he's coming home. As the mailman's too wide smile, and the things that move behind his eyes. The itching is growing worse. Her mother takes her books. Takes the knife. And she hates him. Hates his abandonment. She hates him for taking him, and him for agreeing.
But she loves her mother.
The newborn grace that flares brightly for anyone with the ability to sense such things. Lucifer is drawn to it, curious and cautious. So he goes, the Horsemen and demons can be left to their own devices for a short time. And it's rather trying to deal with them. And an escape from the weight of Death's stares is quite welcome. You'd almost think he didn't like Lucifer.
It's been so long since he's felt such a young grace, a grace he doesn't recognize. He expects to find a young angel -- one created after his fall. He expects to find an angel, a brother or sister. Instead he finds...
The night hangs heavy, only made darker by the fire that rapidly consumes one of those cookies cutter little dwellings humans seem obsessed with having. Lucifer's lips curve, pulling at the deteriorating skin of his vessel's face. Maybe the fire will spread, maybe he'll help it along. Filling the night with screams.
He can still feel the bright flare of grace, but none of his kin can be found. There's just -- a human child. A girl. Staring at the fire. He draws closer and the fury that comes off the child is as potent as the grace. He moves closer still, and the child doesn't turn. Who amongst the Host would take a child as more than just a temporary vessel?
Grace bleeds off her as if she were a fledgling, all that extra grace meant to speed their growing, speed the unfurling of their wings. This isn't a vessel.
The bleeding grace weaves around him as if drawn by a magnet and he takes it in. The smaller tears and sores in Nick's (his) skin slowly knit back together.
This is something new. Oh, this could be useful.
The girl's head turns towards him.
"You're not a demon," she states. Her eyes are pale blue. They remind him of another set of eyes.
"No, I'm not," he agrees.
Her eyes narrow slightly and he can feel her awkwardly reaching out. Stumbling, inexperienced. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Who are you?" there's confusion there. He wonders if she even realizes the power she possesses. The muscles of her back shift.
Good. He can use this.
"I was once called the Morningstar," he tells her in a confidential tone. "But that was a very long time ago. Now it's only fair you tell me who you are, little one."
She turns towards him, her back to the fire. "Claire Novak."
"And what are you doing out so late at night, little Claire? Aren't you afraid of creatures like me? Shouldn't you be running away from the fire like a frightened rabbit?" He moves closer. Weaving danger with challenge, that he can sense will call to the girl's soul and that thread of curiosity.
Claire looks back towards the fire, lips in a firm line, no emotions on her face and only one in her heart. It's not sorrow. "Demons killed my mother. It's his fault. He left us, he abandoned us. Cared more about them than his family. Than me. I'm his daughter."
Lucifer rests a hand on her shoulder, drawing in more grace. It will take him time to fully heal this vessel, but it will last so much longer using this new creature. Perhaps he can coax her to go with him, so much easier to have her willing. "And who is this 'him'? Hmm?"
"My father. He said yes and left. He's the reason the demons came. I hate him," she hisses out. Something sparks in her eyes.
Lucifer tilts his head to the side and crouches in front of her. "It is a horrible thing when a father abandons his family, his children for... other things. I know how you feel, little one. I know your rage. How you feel wronged." He paused as if the thought suddenly occurs to him. "You could come with me. Away from... this." He gestures to the burning house. The sound of sirens in the distance, the humans standing in the street just watching.
They can't see him and Claire of course. He's made sure of that.
"I want to learn," she tells him, and he's almost proud at this little creature setting conditions. "I want you to teach me."
He gives her an indulgent smile. "And what do you want to learn?"
Claire's eyes blaze as her grace does. Fierce and vengeful. "How to make him pay. How to make the world burn."
"That, Claire, I can most certainly teach you," he tells her and presses two fingers to her forehead.
***
Dean runs his fingers through Cas' hair, wrecking it more than it already was. Cas' head is resting on his chest and the sweat is still drying on their skin. This is Dean's favorite part -- well right after the earth shaking, mind shattering sex. But this - curled together and just being. Dean's never done much of his, and he likes it. He likes that Cas will be there in the morning.
God, he's starting to sound like Sammy. He wonders where Sam is and why the hell he trusts Gabriel taking him to Australasia of all places. It's a long shot Jesse will even be there.
Cas slides his hand up Dean's arm and runs it possessively over the hand print there. "Should I be insulted that you're thinking about both of our brothers while you're in bed with me?" Dean can almost hear the smile.
He can't help but smile himself. "Only if I start thinking about Gabriel during sex."
"I would have to kill him then. On principal," Cas says, pressing a kiss to the skin over Dean's heart.
Dean laughs softly and drags Cas' hair the wrong way. "Good thing for him that's never going to happen."
Cas hums into his skin. "That is fortunate for my brother."
He's silent, fingers threading through his angel's hair, his other hand running up and down between Cas' shoulder blades. "I just don't like it. Even if they find him, he's just a kid and he hasn't a clue how to really handle his powers. I mean, you wanted to kill him."
"Gabriel believes he can teach him. That he and Sam can teach the boy." Cas ignores Dean's comment. "He could be a powerful ally, and we need all we can get. You know this Dean."
Dean sighs and closes his eyes. "I don't want to drag a kid into this, even one with power. I don't trust Gabriel's sudden urge to play mentor to the anti-Christ."
He can almost hear Cas roll his eyes or as close as Cas gets to it. "He isn't the anti-christ, Dean. I think Gabriel was... amused... by Jesse's pranks. Even unintentional as they were."
Dean sighs again, and opens his eyes to stare at the water stained ceiling. Just once he'd like to show Cas what a decent room looks like, what a decent bed feels like. He so wants to make up for taking Cas the first time on a dirty blanket in a abandoned house.
Cas raises his head and slides further up Dean's body to kiss him. "He'll be safer with us. There are too many powers that would use and abuse him or out right kill him."
"We have to protect him," Dean whispers, and he knows they do, and between Gabriel and Sam - they kid might just be okay.
Sigils are traced across his forehead, then his heart with such careful affection. "And teach him," Cas says against his lips. "He loves this world and we can teach him how to save it."
***
Lucifer sets them down on the grand porch of the large house he's taken over in Carthage. The home is opulent, built like a castle and bigger than any human family could ever need. It serves his need, and after all it's not as if the humans of the town have a use for it anymore. Very few of the demons are allowed into the house itself, but instead set up camp in the yard or in nearby houses. He mostly ignores their petty squabbles, over who is where. He cares little for them; they are tools.
Several of the near by demons in the yard look up at his arrival and look curiously at the child beside him. He glances down wondering what the girl will think faced with all these demons, but she's simply glaring at them her chin slightly raised. He raises an eyebrow at them and they quickly find else where to be. There aren't many demons about tonight, most are off doing what demons do and the more havoc the better. Some are on missions he sent them on. There is Pestilence to locate and raise. There are the Winchesters to torment - though they have orders not to kill - he needs Samuel alive - this vessel might heal but the boy is still his true one. Dean is needed if Michael is to be cast down for his betrayal. Castiel is to be brought to him if they can catch him, though Lucifer is mostly interested how many demons his fading little brother can deal with.
Though curiously, it seems little brother has regained a bit of his grace -- or else -- no Gabriel is dead, he must be with no trace of his grace to find on Earth or in Heaven, though Lucifer will gladly send the one that murdered him to hell.
"What are those?" Claire's voice breaks him from this thoughts. "They don't look like any dogs I've seen."
His mouth curves up in a smile. Ah, so she can see them. "Those are hell-hounds, little one. Would you like to meet my favorite?"
She tilts her head to the side regarding him then hounds. "Yes."
"Then we shall." He takes her hand -- it's a curious impulse. Perhaps left over from his vessel - Nick's mind.
A few of the hounds are restless, snarling and howling, but they quiet as Lucifer grows near. There are fewer than there had been, but his favorite survived. The hound in question, Cerberus the first hell-hound, comes forward towards him, as far as the lead will allow. "Don't be afraid they won't hurt you without my order."
"I'm not afraid of them," she says, but he can feel and see the small shiver in her grace and soul. She draws a little closer to him, her small fingers tightening around his, just as her grace reaches and wraps around a tendril of his. It's a curious sensation, but he smiles. It'll be easier if she depends on him, trusts him.
"Such a brave girl," Lucifer praises her. He crouches down and rubs Cerberus' head. "You can pet him if you like."
Claire reaches out a hand and Cerberus sniffs at her hand, then allows her to pet him. "What's his name?" she asks and scratches behind the hound's ears.
"Cerberus. He was the first hell-hound I created. Do you like him?" Lucifer asks. He still has her hand in his, and the physical contact allows more of the excess grace to pour into him.
She nods. "He's much cooler than any picture I've seen of Cerberus. Even without the three-heads. But shouldn't they be on fire or dripping acid from their mouths?"
Lucifer chuckles. "They can look like flaming beasts if I wish them to, but humans can't see them like they are now. Easier to attack and kill the unwary. And rest assured when they bite, acid enters the wounds. If the human or demon isn't dead from being torn apart the acid will make short work of them."
"Way better than Cerberus in Harry Potter," Claire declares.
He's about to ask about this Harry Potter when a female voice speaks behind them. "Did you bring the hell-hounds some fresh dinner, Lord Lucifer?" Meg's voice is arrogantly amused and blood thirsty. "She won't make much of a meal. They're be done with her in two or three bites."
Claire's grace balls up tightly and he dislikes that. This child is his and Meg needs to remember her place. "Are you volunteering to give them something else to tear and devour?" he asks with a falsely mild voice. He rises to his feet, placing Claire behind him. Cerberus growls, already knowing that the girl belongs to his master and therefore is something to protect.
Meg's smile flatters. "No, my lord," she rushes out. "I was just curious about this... creature... you've brought among us." Her black eyes narrow at Claire.
Lucifer allows himself to smile, sharp and dangerous. "All you need to know Megara is that she is mine and I will not take any harm to her lightly."
"Of course, do you want me to make that known?" Meg asks, clearly trying to worm back into his good graces. She's clever and ruthless, and that's why he likes her. He doesn't trust her but she can be... amusing. Both in bed and out.
He inclines his head. "Any that you think are too stupid to figure it for themselves -- and that you think are useful." Destroying a few would keep the rest in line and he rather enjoys it. He turns back to Claire dismissing the demon. "Let's find you a room, hm?" He already has one in mind, and the modification won't take much at all.
She slides her hand into his again. "Is there a room with a four poster bed?" Claire asks as they walk back towards the house. "I've always wanted one."
Lucifer smiles down and her and smooths a hand over her hair. "You can have anything you like," he promises.
And the Devil always keeps his word, after a fashion.
Part 2
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Claire, Lucifer, Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, Jesse
Betas: sweetsyren and krystalicekitsu
Word count: 2404
Summary: As Team Free Will search for Jesse, Lucifer comes across a curious thing.
"The most effective kind of education is that a child should play amongst lovely things."- Plato
Her back itches. Right between the shoulder blades. It's a constant. Since that day. Since he left them again. It's as consistent as the way her teacher watches her. As her mother thinks he's coming home. As the mailman's too wide smile, and the things that move behind his eyes. The itching is growing worse. Her mother takes her books. Takes the knife. And she hates him. Hates his abandonment. She hates him for taking him, and him for agreeing.
But she loves her mother.
The newborn grace that flares brightly for anyone with the ability to sense such things. Lucifer is drawn to it, curious and cautious. So he goes, the Horsemen and demons can be left to their own devices for a short time. And it's rather trying to deal with them. And an escape from the weight of Death's stares is quite welcome. You'd almost think he didn't like Lucifer.
It's been so long since he's felt such a young grace, a grace he doesn't recognize. He expects to find a young angel -- one created after his fall. He expects to find an angel, a brother or sister. Instead he finds...
The night hangs heavy, only made darker by the fire that rapidly consumes one of those cookies cutter little dwellings humans seem obsessed with having. Lucifer's lips curve, pulling at the deteriorating skin of his vessel's face. Maybe the fire will spread, maybe he'll help it along. Filling the night with screams.
He can still feel the bright flare of grace, but none of his kin can be found. There's just -- a human child. A girl. Staring at the fire. He draws closer and the fury that comes off the child is as potent as the grace. He moves closer still, and the child doesn't turn. Who amongst the Host would take a child as more than just a temporary vessel?
Grace bleeds off her as if she were a fledgling, all that extra grace meant to speed their growing, speed the unfurling of their wings. This isn't a vessel.
The bleeding grace weaves around him as if drawn by a magnet and he takes it in. The smaller tears and sores in Nick's (his) skin slowly knit back together.
This is something new. Oh, this could be useful.
The girl's head turns towards him.
"You're not a demon," she states. Her eyes are pale blue. They remind him of another set of eyes.
"No, I'm not," he agrees.
Her eyes narrow slightly and he can feel her awkwardly reaching out. Stumbling, inexperienced. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Who are you?" there's confusion there. He wonders if she even realizes the power she possesses. The muscles of her back shift.
Good. He can use this.
"I was once called the Morningstar," he tells her in a confidential tone. "But that was a very long time ago. Now it's only fair you tell me who you are, little one."
She turns towards him, her back to the fire. "Claire Novak."
"And what are you doing out so late at night, little Claire? Aren't you afraid of creatures like me? Shouldn't you be running away from the fire like a frightened rabbit?" He moves closer. Weaving danger with challenge, that he can sense will call to the girl's soul and that thread of curiosity.
Claire looks back towards the fire, lips in a firm line, no emotions on her face and only one in her heart. It's not sorrow. "Demons killed my mother. It's his fault. He left us, he abandoned us. Cared more about them than his family. Than me. I'm his daughter."
Lucifer rests a hand on her shoulder, drawing in more grace. It will take him time to fully heal this vessel, but it will last so much longer using this new creature. Perhaps he can coax her to go with him, so much easier to have her willing. "And who is this 'him'? Hmm?"
"My father. He said yes and left. He's the reason the demons came. I hate him," she hisses out. Something sparks in her eyes.
Lucifer tilts his head to the side and crouches in front of her. "It is a horrible thing when a father abandons his family, his children for... other things. I know how you feel, little one. I know your rage. How you feel wronged." He paused as if the thought suddenly occurs to him. "You could come with me. Away from... this." He gestures to the burning house. The sound of sirens in the distance, the humans standing in the street just watching.
They can't see him and Claire of course. He's made sure of that.
"I want to learn," she tells him, and he's almost proud at this little creature setting conditions. "I want you to teach me."
He gives her an indulgent smile. "And what do you want to learn?"
Claire's eyes blaze as her grace does. Fierce and vengeful. "How to make him pay. How to make the world burn."
"That, Claire, I can most certainly teach you," he tells her and presses two fingers to her forehead.
***
Dean runs his fingers through Cas' hair, wrecking it more than it already was. Cas' head is resting on his chest and the sweat is still drying on their skin. This is Dean's favorite part -- well right after the earth shaking, mind shattering sex. But this - curled together and just being. Dean's never done much of his, and he likes it. He likes that Cas will be there in the morning.
God, he's starting to sound like Sammy. He wonders where Sam is and why the hell he trusts Gabriel taking him to Australasia of all places. It's a long shot Jesse will even be there.
Cas slides his hand up Dean's arm and runs it possessively over the hand print there. "Should I be insulted that you're thinking about both of our brothers while you're in bed with me?" Dean can almost hear the smile.
He can't help but smile himself. "Only if I start thinking about Gabriel during sex."
"I would have to kill him then. On principal," Cas says, pressing a kiss to the skin over Dean's heart.
Dean laughs softly and drags Cas' hair the wrong way. "Good thing for him that's never going to happen."
Cas hums into his skin. "That is fortunate for my brother."
He's silent, fingers threading through his angel's hair, his other hand running up and down between Cas' shoulder blades. "I just don't like it. Even if they find him, he's just a kid and he hasn't a clue how to really handle his powers. I mean, you wanted to kill him."
"Gabriel believes he can teach him. That he and Sam can teach the boy." Cas ignores Dean's comment. "He could be a powerful ally, and we need all we can get. You know this Dean."
Dean sighs and closes his eyes. "I don't want to drag a kid into this, even one with power. I don't trust Gabriel's sudden urge to play mentor to the anti-Christ."
He can almost hear Cas roll his eyes or as close as Cas gets to it. "He isn't the anti-christ, Dean. I think Gabriel was... amused... by Jesse's pranks. Even unintentional as they were."
Dean sighs again, and opens his eyes to stare at the water stained ceiling. Just once he'd like to show Cas what a decent room looks like, what a decent bed feels like. He so wants to make up for taking Cas the first time on a dirty blanket in a abandoned house.
Cas raises his head and slides further up Dean's body to kiss him. "He'll be safer with us. There are too many powers that would use and abuse him or out right kill him."
"We have to protect him," Dean whispers, and he knows they do, and between Gabriel and Sam - they kid might just be okay.
Sigils are traced across his forehead, then his heart with such careful affection. "And teach him," Cas says against his lips. "He loves this world and we can teach him how to save it."
***
Lucifer sets them down on the grand porch of the large house he's taken over in Carthage. The home is opulent, built like a castle and bigger than any human family could ever need. It serves his need, and after all it's not as if the humans of the town have a use for it anymore. Very few of the demons are allowed into the house itself, but instead set up camp in the yard or in nearby houses. He mostly ignores their petty squabbles, over who is where. He cares little for them; they are tools.
Several of the near by demons in the yard look up at his arrival and look curiously at the child beside him. He glances down wondering what the girl will think faced with all these demons, but she's simply glaring at them her chin slightly raised. He raises an eyebrow at them and they quickly find else where to be. There aren't many demons about tonight, most are off doing what demons do and the more havoc the better. Some are on missions he sent them on. There is Pestilence to locate and raise. There are the Winchesters to torment - though they have orders not to kill - he needs Samuel alive - this vessel might heal but the boy is still his true one. Dean is needed if Michael is to be cast down for his betrayal. Castiel is to be brought to him if they can catch him, though Lucifer is mostly interested how many demons his fading little brother can deal with.
Though curiously, it seems little brother has regained a bit of his grace -- or else -- no Gabriel is dead, he must be with no trace of his grace to find on Earth or in Heaven, though Lucifer will gladly send the one that murdered him to hell.
"What are those?" Claire's voice breaks him from this thoughts. "They don't look like any dogs I've seen."
His mouth curves up in a smile. Ah, so she can see them. "Those are hell-hounds, little one. Would you like to meet my favorite?"
She tilts her head to the side regarding him then hounds. "Yes."
"Then we shall." He takes her hand -- it's a curious impulse. Perhaps left over from his vessel - Nick's mind.
A few of the hounds are restless, snarling and howling, but they quiet as Lucifer grows near. There are fewer than there had been, but his favorite survived. The hound in question, Cerberus the first hell-hound, comes forward towards him, as far as the lead will allow. "Don't be afraid they won't hurt you without my order."
"I'm not afraid of them," she says, but he can feel and see the small shiver in her grace and soul. She draws a little closer to him, her small fingers tightening around his, just as her grace reaches and wraps around a tendril of his. It's a curious sensation, but he smiles. It'll be easier if she depends on him, trusts him.
"Such a brave girl," Lucifer praises her. He crouches down and rubs Cerberus' head. "You can pet him if you like."
Claire reaches out a hand and Cerberus sniffs at her hand, then allows her to pet him. "What's his name?" she asks and scratches behind the hound's ears.
"Cerberus. He was the first hell-hound I created. Do you like him?" Lucifer asks. He still has her hand in his, and the physical contact allows more of the excess grace to pour into him.
She nods. "He's much cooler than any picture I've seen of Cerberus. Even without the three-heads. But shouldn't they be on fire or dripping acid from their mouths?"
Lucifer chuckles. "They can look like flaming beasts if I wish them to, but humans can't see them like they are now. Easier to attack and kill the unwary. And rest assured when they bite, acid enters the wounds. If the human or demon isn't dead from being torn apart the acid will make short work of them."
"Way better than Cerberus in Harry Potter," Claire declares.
He's about to ask about this Harry Potter when a female voice speaks behind them. "Did you bring the hell-hounds some fresh dinner, Lord Lucifer?" Meg's voice is arrogantly amused and blood thirsty. "She won't make much of a meal. They're be done with her in two or three bites."
Claire's grace balls up tightly and he dislikes that. This child is his and Meg needs to remember her place. "Are you volunteering to give them something else to tear and devour?" he asks with a falsely mild voice. He rises to his feet, placing Claire behind him. Cerberus growls, already knowing that the girl belongs to his master and therefore is something to protect.
Meg's smile flatters. "No, my lord," she rushes out. "I was just curious about this... creature... you've brought among us." Her black eyes narrow at Claire.
Lucifer allows himself to smile, sharp and dangerous. "All you need to know Megara is that she is mine and I will not take any harm to her lightly."
"Of course, do you want me to make that known?" Meg asks, clearly trying to worm back into his good graces. She's clever and ruthless, and that's why he likes her. He doesn't trust her but she can be... amusing. Both in bed and out.
He inclines his head. "Any that you think are too stupid to figure it for themselves -- and that you think are useful." Destroying a few would keep the rest in line and he rather enjoys it. He turns back to Claire dismissing the demon. "Let's find you a room, hm?" He already has one in mind, and the modification won't take much at all.
She slides her hand into his again. "Is there a room with a four poster bed?" Claire asks as they walk back towards the house. "I've always wanted one."
Lucifer smiles down and her and smooths a hand over her hair. "You can have anything you like," he promises.
And the Devil always keeps his word, after a fashion.
Part 2