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Weeeell...apparently winter has come early this year. As some of you may have heard, the Northeast US got slammed with a major snowstorm. My area got nearly a foot of snow dumped on us and lost electricity. So here I am at Starbucks, mooching off their wireless and hoping the power might be back when I come home.

Did I mention it's still October...? Yeah... -___-'

Anyway, here is a Lucifer/Beelzebub fic that I wrote for [livejournal.com profile] jestana for her birthday. I hope you like it, my dear! ^____^

Title: Beside You at the End
Fandom: Judeo-Christian mythology
Pairing: Lucifer/Beelzebub
Rating: PG
Summary: A somewhat bleaker look at Lucifer's existence post-Apocalypse. Yet even among the ashes, there is a green sprig of hope.
Notes: Written as a birthday fic for [livejournal.com profile] jestana who requested "hurt/comfort, Beelzebub/Lucifer".

Beelzebub lies helpfully still on Lucifer's bed as the Devil wraps fresh bandages around the Duke's upper thigh. Lucifer muses wryly that there's little point in thinking of his second with any sort of title. After all, what is Beelzebub even a Duke of anymore? And for that matter, can Lucifer really be called the King of Hell now that Hell is nothing more than ruins?

All of the Devil's realm had been hit hard from fighting but the capital city Dis was especially so, half-leveled and in shambles. Indeed it was rather a surprise to find any section of Lucifer's palace still standing though they managed. It's the servants' quarters but still. The two demons are grateful to have any place with four intact walls, a ceiling, and a door that shuts. It is certainly a better defensive position as well.

Lucifer is mostly sure that they're alone here, but leave it to Him to throw in a surprise or two. Or perhaps not. Maybe they really have been forgotten—maybe when God said Eternity, He meant it.

Here, in the aftermath of the Apocalypse, Lucifer is certain that he and Beelzebub are the only ones left in Hell...

The last blow had been aimed for Lucifer (or had it?—really?), but Beelzebub had taken it instead, fiercely pushing Lucifer behind him and up against a courtyard wall as the flaming arrow buried itself into the Duke's left thigh with a twanging thunk.

Instead of injury, Lucifer caught Beelzebub, his dark wings wrapped around the smaller being. Lucifer snarled at the angels circling closer, and all he could think was that he'd never meant for the fighting to be here in Hell, for his city and peoples to be decimated.

Then Lucifer was before the Throne, just like that. The transition jarred him to his knees, but he determinedly kept his hold on Beelzebub.

God sat, regarding His Morningstar pensively. "It was only supposed to be you," He said, as if remarking on the weather. "All the other demons perished,"—He began ticking these things off on His fingers as he listed them—"the damned mortals too, and you should be left alone for all Eternity." God looked from Lucifer and now at Beelzebub. "He's a loose end I'm afraid."

Lucifer snarled viciously. "You won't harm him!" But already Beelzebub was growing deathly pale, the gash on his thigh gouting blood that soaked into both their robes.

God tilted His head thoughtfully. "Yes, you feel strongly for him. If you surrender, I will let your second live, and you may both spend Eternity together in Hell."

"Yes!" Lucifer had cried out before he'd even really had a chance to process the words. It was better than oblivion though, and it was better—far better—than Eternity alone.

God rubbed His chin as He considered this, almost like a writer deciding to make a slight revision to their work. "Then surrender to Me. Say the words."

Oh that voice, as cold and unfeeling as marble... And only now in this final moment did Lucifer realize the truth about God: He didn't care. There was no sadistic glee in Lucifer being brought low. God did not seem particularly pleased or triumphant either. In fact he was virtually...apathetic. Because there was no surprise here, no battle or struggle, only...it was like the impartial recitation of a story already drafted and memorized.

The despair crushed Lucifer's Pride then as reality hit. He didn't stand a chance; he'd never stood a chance. God had had every card all along, could've stopped the game in an instant. There hadn't even needed to be a final battle. He could've just willed it all to end and consigned the damned to oblivion without any angel having ever needed to lift a sword. And yet He had gone through every motion, had set them all up like dominos when He'd known from the start what pattern He would use and how everyone would fall when He knocked them down. But He did it anyway because... Why? He was bored? Maybe.

Did the reason even matter now?

Lucifer understood God then in a way he never quite had before. There was no mystery, no great glory—only a bored Presence holding a script He already knew the ending of, but there was nothing better to do so He played it out anyway, perhaps hoping to get some vicarious thrill of life from the story's lesser characters.

And so it cost Lucifer nothing really to speak because all he was doing was reading his line off the invisible page of God's book. "I surrender." Had any of it ever been his choice...?

God nodded perfunctorily, and Lucifer's part in the play was complete. "Very well then."

After that, Lucifer had woken up on the debris-strewn floor of his throne room with Beelzebub lying unconscious beside him, thigh wound congealing blood and looking far less serious than it had in Heaven. Not daring to let Beelzebub out of his sight, Lucifer had carried the Duke in his arms until he'd found the undamaged servants' quarters for them to hole up in.

And here they have been for the past several days. Not even a week yet. Welcome to Eternity.

Lucifer sighs as he finishes dressing the wound and then pulling Beelzebub's robe back down. The injury is healing well considering it was made by a holy weapon. In a few days, Beelzebub should be able to walk about normally with only a temporary soreness lingering for a few days more.

Shifting onto the narrow bed, Lucifer squeezes himself between Beelzebub and the bare stone wall, curling an arm around Beelzebub's waist and spooning the smaller demon against his chest. <I won't let anything happen to him,> Lucifer thinks, and it is a nobly protective and selfish notion all in one. Because Lucifer does love Beelzebub, as sincerely as he has ever loved anyone, but also without his second here now, the Devil would be left utterly alone.

To be truly alone. Lucifer would have scoffed before to think that such a thing would ever frighten him, but now he knows better. The arm he has around Beelzebub tightens a little.

"I shall not leave you, my Lord," Beelzebub says reassuringly. They've been together in some way nearly since the Beginning, and it is no difficult task for the Duke to read his Lord's body language and very nearly know what he is thinking.

"Of course not. With your leg still healing, you wouldn't be able to outrun me," Lucifer chuckles, aiming to muster up a touch of his old laissez-faire charm. Funny how he can't help but act like he needs to be charming an audience though there isn't one anymore, may never be again. And Beelzebub doesn't count—he has always been able to see through Lucifer's airs.

The Devil's fingers reach up, gently feeling Beelzebub's lips and the smile on them. His sweet Duke...

"I will not leave you, Lucifer," Beelzebub says again, letting his voice be soft. He also doesn't need to put up a strong front for anyone now. He can be pliant and melt in Lucifer's arms as he recovers.

"I know," the Devil replies, pressing a light kiss to blue-black hair. He was a fool to ever think he could win against God, but if this is the only Eternity that he and Beelzebub shall ever have, then at least the two of them are together.


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