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Lucifer ignored the knocking at his door, pulling the blankets higher over his head. Like he'd ignored the knocking yesterday. And the day before that. And possible the day before that. He was still aching from TV-Head's stupid magic box and he didn't want to see anyone.
He had his ducks, he was fine. He wasn't really fine but he couldn't just say that. He was the King of Hell. Who was he going to complain to about the teensy, tiny, inconsequential fact that tomorrow would be the 8th anniversary of... of Lilith? Lilith leaving. The love of his life, the woman he'd Fallen for. His wife leaving because he wasn't... he couldn't... He'd never be good enough. Never just enough.
Lu could barely think her name without wanting to sob but his head already ached from crying. His box of tissues was empty, crumpled and overflowing his duck-shaped waste basket. He could magic a new box but mostly he was numb. And tired. And desperately wanted a hug but he didn't know who to ask.
Charlie was busy running the hotel; his little girl, so bright and successful. There was a proud burn in his chest whenever he thought of her. If he could just get Lilith on the phone, he knew she'd be as proud of their daughter as he was. But Lilith didn't answer when he called. She never did.
He couldn't blame her, really. It's not like he had anything new to say aside from "I miss you. I love you. It's been 2,919 days since I last saw you. 2,920. 2,921." She didn't need him whining. Besides, his phone had died yesterday and her voicemail had been full when he'd tried the day before that.
He'd wanted to tell her about Charlie's girlfriend Vagificent. CharChar had really found a winner and Lu wanted Lilith to know that their girl was going to be all right.
Sniffling, Lu curled more tightly in on himself, shaking a little. He was so cold. He'd never thought that Hell would be cold, with all the fire and the explosions everywhere. But without a body beside him, the bed felt too big, the sheets too untouched. There was ice in his chest that he couldn't thaw, no matter how many times he tried.
He didn't hear the footsteps at first, tiny patters weaving around the ducks he'd tossed off the mattress with turning and flopping. When something jumped up, Lucifer froze, rubbing at his eyes with a sleeve.
The soft oink sounded almost mournful.
Lifting the blankets to get an eye out, Lu saw the spider-demon's pet curled up on his sheets.
"Hey." He frowned, uncovering his head and poking at the thing. "This isn't your room."
Another sad oink.
Sighing, Lu didn't have the heart to kick out a pig that looked as heartbroken as he did.
"Well. Fine." He rolled over, back to the thing. Of course, rolling over meant he was facing Lilith's side of the bed and that made him cry. He buried his face in his long sleeves and tried to muffle the sounds of grief.
"Oink."
Lu didn't move as the pig crawled over him, flopping against his chest.
"Oh."
He looked down at the hopeful face staring up at him, so like a baby Charlie with only wonder and love in her eyes. The warmth of the tiny demon helped him unfold from his bent origami of emotions and he stretched stiff legs for the first time in days.
"Hi," he said, smile shaky when the pig nuzzled into his Super Soft Sweater of Wallowing™.
When the hotel was quiet for the evening, repentant sinners in their rooms awaiting dreams of Heaven, Charlie found Lucifer and Fat Nuggets tangled on the couch in her dad's room. There was a duck rom-com on the TV and a bowl of popcorn forgotten on the table as they snored in unison.
She smiled and draped a blanket across the pair, patting Nuggs when he blinked up at her.
"Thank you for getting him out of bed," she whispered.
The pig oinked softly, cuddling closer when Lu mumbled and reached out. He settled again, soothed by the solid warmth against his aching ribs.