Everything felt heavy. His pieced together body, his crumbling mind, the tatters of his soul.

He wanted to sink into the ground, to stop existing, but that was something he could never have. He would keep existing, forever and ever, no matter what happened. The world could end, yet he would still be there, his body stitching itself together again. Again and again and again and again. Cursed to live for all eternity, watching as everyone around you eventually died.

 

Lucifer stared into the ceiling, unseeing. He knew what was there, could recite every colour shift, where every strand of bunting was. But everything had faded away, leaving him unable to register it.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he thought he heard a sound, but he couldn’t find it in himself to turn his head to look.

 

“Hey, ya doin’ okay? Ya kinda look like you’re gettin’ eaten by your ducks.”

 

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t, his mouth opening, but no sound coming out of it.

The piles of ducks surrounding him moved, and it took him a moment to realise someone had lied down next to him. When his hand was grasped, it felt foreign, like it wasn’t really his hand being held, but someone else’s. Maybe it was. Maybe he had accidentally slipped his consciousness into someone else’s without meaning to. It happened, from time to time, and was never pleasant.

But the hand remained, the warmth of a palm against his seeping into his skin. An arm pressed up against his, its heat spreading to his own. It spread out toward his chest, softening the cold and hard knot that had moved into his core, hollowing him out, destroying everything in its way.

That warmth slowly pulled him back inside his own body, dragging him out of his own head. Out of his mind, where he had been drowning, with no sight of land.

 

It took him another minute to realise that Angel was the one lying beside him, his thumb moving back and forth along his skin, where he still held on to his hand.

As Lucifer finally blinked, eyes dry and sore, he heard Angel’s voice again.

“Welcome back.”

He heard and felt Angel move, until he only needed to turn his head a fraction to be able to see him, Angel propped up on his arm, hand against his cheek as he looked down at him.

“Shit day?”

Lucifer’s head moved almost imperceptibly, but with Angel’s eyes so intently on him, he still noticed. He opened his mouth, closing it again when his voice stuck in his throat. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling how they burned as he did, strained from having been open for so long.

He tried again.

“Yeah my… brain is acting up, again.”

He had told Angel about the way he had despaired about his immortality before.

How it gnawed at him, ate away at his psyche piece by piece. About his fears that sometimes rendered him unable to move for weeks, hidden away so as not to show the people he cared about how broken he really was. About how, even though he tended to self-isolate any time his mental illnesses reared their ugly heads, he feared being alone, with everyone he ever cared about driven away by his instability, gone due to his own inaction. How he had already driven Lilith away, making him certain that the same would happen with everyone else around him.

The older he got, the longer he spent in Hell, the more aware he became of it. Of everyone else’s mortality. About his own lack of it.

Hiding that part of himself had gotten harder after reuniting with Charlie, and it had gotten nigh impossible once he moved into the apple tower. The times when it lasted only days, sure. He could explain that away. But once he had hidden himself in his tower for two whole weeks? He hadn’t been able to cover that up.

 

The gentle touch of Angel’s fingertips on his cheek brought him out of his head again. His touch was warm as he rested his hand against his skin. Angel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Want me to move ya to bed?”

“No, I… think I prefer the floor right now.”

“Can I still get ya a blanket or a pillow? This’s gotta be shit for your back.”

Lucifer felt his lips tug into a small smile. “That would be kind of you.”

 

As Angel got up, he felt the cold nipping at him, sending a shiver down his spine. He turned his head a little more, just barely able to see Angel as he tugged the blanket off the bed, tucking a couple of pillows under his arm. Still there.

Then he was back again, throwing the blanket on top of him, pushing a few more ducks to the side to be able to fit more comfortably next to him. He fitted a pillow underneath Lucifer’s head before draping the arms on one side across Lucifer’s body. Lucifer closed his eyes, soaking in the heat emanating off Angel’s body.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

 

Angel tucked his face into the space between Lucifer’s neck and shoulder. Every touch felt grounding, his breath against his skin reminding him that he was still there. He hadn’t driven him away yet.

A nagging voice inside of him would always be there to remind him of his fears, make sure he didn’t forget that one day, Angel too would be gone.

But at least for the moment, he would try to forget about all that. He was safe in the knowledge that at least right here, right now, he didn’t have to be alone.

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