TENDER LIKE A BRUISE

And the Watchers Shall Quake;

“There’s something about the stars, you know,” Lucifer’s voice was sweet as honey and calm as an iced over lake. He lolled his head away from staring into the fire to fix Levi and Eydie with a stare — his smile mischievous. “Don’t you know about them?”

One of Satan’s eyes peeked open, sliding to look over where the two young adults were huddled near the fire. He was curious to see where Lucifer was going with his questioning. He stretched his legs out a little farther, sliding his back down the chair more; fingers kept in their threaded position resting on top of his hips.

A nervous swallow was audible from both of the humans. The girl, Eydie, huddled closer to the boy, but she spoke first, “What, um, what should we know?”

Lucifer’s grin grew. “Well,” he drew out the word, “it’s about the stars… and angels.”

“What about them?” Levi’s answer was quick, and his voice raw — he’d been trying to force it lower for so long that it had gained a rough, almost gravel-like quality to it.

It was obvious to Satan that the boy was trying to sound like a man… that he was feeling raw and exposed in the company of the two Princes of Hell. There was little they could do to soothe that, and, if Satan were to be honest with himself, he did truly want to. A thread of familiarity knit through him at the realisation that this boy wanted desperately to be seen as a man — to be seen as enough. Satan had not been so different when he was in heaven.

The boy squeezed the girl’s shoulder, pulling her closer to his side, trying to comfort her in the only way he could without drawing even more attention to them from the pair of Princes. “What do you even want from us?”

Satan sat up in his seat, moving so he was leaning over his knees and looking up through the long top of his cropped hair at his husband and the humans. He said nothing — he wasn’t about to interrupt Lucifer when he was priming to talk. He knew well enough that never ended well.

“Oh, you know,” Lucifer drew out the last word. He shrugged, pushing away from the fireplace and walking to the young adults. “Those shooting stars? Those are angels falling… but you know that already, don’t you?”

A pause.

Lucifer continued, “Sure, they don’t quite fall like they used to — much more prone to disgracing than actual falling — and it’s been happening more and more since our little group has decided to come to earth again.” A puff of a laugh popped out of him. “Cute, really, that god decided to allow the army of heaven decimate its own ranks before us princes even get to the gates of heaven.”

“That’s not what they’re doing…,” Eydie trailed off, not sure how to deny something she wasn’t completely certain of.

“Oh, it is,” Satan’s rough voice cut through the gentle noise in the room, “That’s exactly what they’re doing. Heaven’s full of morons; no reason to keep it.”

Lucifer grinned at Satan’s addition. “It’s true,” he said, voice gilded, “There’s no reason to keep that hierarchal place which punishes those who don’t conform.” He paused, playing with the hem of his shirt’s cuff, rubbing the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger. The grin never faltered. “There’s no reason for it.”

“If you think there’s no reason to stop the coming holy war, then why— why did you help us?” Levi swallowed around the lump in his throat — did he really want to know the answer?

Satan slid his blue eyes to Lucifer, a smile playing at his own lips. He knew the answer, but wondered what lie Lucifer would feed to them.

"Humans aren’t necessarily going to be wiped out, you know,” his voice was smooth, “and you both have something that we need.”

“What?” they both said in unison. Their eyes were big, watching Lucifer’s fluid movements with the glassy eyes of a dead animal — seeing everything and nothing all at once. There was a shiver to their shoulders, but it certainly wasn’t from an environmental cold. Their shivers stemmed from holding themselves so tight in anticipation. They wanted to know.

His grin was gleaming with glee — this is how Lucifer liked to make people feel; to make them think on their own mortality. “Information.”