11. 11

11

Luc

W hoever thought a stairway to Heaven was a good idea had clearly never spared actually climbing it a second thought. Especially if the staircase in question was slippery, made of a glass-like substance, and virtually see-through. It made for a long trek up the stairs, through the avalanche of fluffy clouds and gentle breeze.

Luc’s overheated skin prickled at the feeling. He was completely unused to anything but the sweltering heat of his own realm. This ‘optimal living conditions’ bullshit wasn’t for him.

The angelic choir soundtrack following him up wasn’t helping either. The entire thing, while usually mechanical and automatic for him, felt like the biggest chore.

He knew Oren was the reason.

What had seemed like the most logical option when they’d first realized Oren was in Hell by mistake now felt like the worst decision ever. Why would he let him go? Why, when he made everything so much better? When Luc wanted him to stay? When he loved him?

He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to sit down and hammer out the logistics of Oren leaving him. But the part of him that wanted only the best for Oren told him he had no choice.

Huffing and puffing, he finally reached the pearly gates, blanching at the thought of someone polishing and shining those monstrosities every five seconds. There was absolutely no way they were all glittery and reflective without divine intervention.

He approached the gates, and they slid open in front of him instantly, allowing him to pass into the most magnificent garden. There were colorful flowers wherever the eye could see. Seas of lush green grass and acres of delicious-smelling fruit covered the entire surface in front of Luc.

Birds were chirping, butterflies in every pattern imaginable fluttered around, and the sweetest scent assaulted Luc’s senses the moment he took a breath.

Ugh.

Paradise.

Gross.

He tucked his wings closer, trying his best to avoid touching anything. The last time he’d come up for a team meeting, he’d picked up pollen on his wings and spread some god-awful weed all over Hell. It had taken them a month to get rid of all the… purple bits.

He trudged up another flight of stairs and into the grandiose palace that was the Big Guy’s home. He sure liked to flash his omnipotence around, that was for sure.

The whole kingdom of Heaven was supposed to be a metaphor, not, like, an actual kingdom. But Luc figured you could do whatever you wanted when you were the boss.

He walked into the palace, greeting familiar faces and exchanging glares with the ones who took the Heaven versus Hell dispute literally. They were in the same business. They worked for the same company. Luc just couldn’t wrap his head around some people’s outdated ideas on how it all worked.

Shrugging, he walked down a narrow corridor to his left, his steps echoing against marble floors polished to a shine so bright Luc was willing to bet he’d have a migraine for a week after this.

“Luc!” He heard a voice coming from his right, and he turned to find Peter standing there, a clipboard in hand, white wings spread wide around him. His dirty blond hair was neatly combed over his forehead in a cute choir-boy fringe, and his pale blue eyes were kind when he looked at Luc.

“Pete, my man,” Luc said, coming closer to clasp the man on the shoulder. Peter was probably his favorite member of the Heaven brigade. Dude had too much work to do to engage in petty bullshit.

“You here about Oren?” Peter asked.

Luc nodded, ignoring the heavy pit in his stomach. “I am, yes.”

Peter smiled angelically. “He’s waiting for you in his office. Fair warning, he’s a bit moody.”

“Ice-skating competition didn’t go the way he wanted?” Luc asked.

“His favorite skater retired. It was a whole thing.” Peter gave a small sigh that came out like rainbows. “He actually considered meddling for a split second, but Michael talked him out of it.”

“Phew.” Luc pretended to wipe his forehead. “Crisis averted.”

“For now,” Peter said. “But please, try and be gentle with him. This mix-up is a first, and with how raw he’s feeling at the moment, anything that sounds like criticism might hurt him more.”

“Got it. I’ll watch my words and tone. And everything else.”

“Good.” Peter gestured him forward with a wing. “Go ahead. Call if you need anything. Michael isn’t in today, but I’ll do my best to help if I can.”

Luc nodded, wondering just how serious the situation was if they were all tiptoeing around, putting out potential fires.

He pushed open the door to a large office and walked in, balking at the sight in front of him.

The Big Man was sprawled on a large ottoman, a burgundy fleece blanket draped over him as he stared at the wall opposite. He looked miserable.

“Hey, G,” Luc said as he walked farther into the room, reaching one of the large chairs next to the ottoman and lowering himself into it. “I hear you’re having quite a day.”

The Big Man looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “He had at least another season in him. I can’t believe he chose to just walk away. We were so close to winning gold this time, too.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that.” Luc tried his best to be sympathetic, but it was very hard when he had absolutely no idea what the issue was.

“He was just such a joy to watch, you know?”

“Sure…” Luc said. “Why is he retiring if he could still compete?”

“Apparently, he has some sort of deadly condition.” The Big Man huffed, rolling his eyes. “As if that explains anything.”

“Well, look on the bright side. You’ll get to meet him in person soon.”

The Big Man lit up at those words, eyes shining with glee before he slumped again. “He’s one of yours. Beautiful skater. Horrible person in general.”

“Oh… How about I ask him to sign something for you?”

“Would you?” he gasped.

“Anything for the best boss.” It was only a little sarcastic. “I’ll ask as soon as he gets down there.”

“Yay!” The Big Man clapped his hands, throwing the blanket off and standing up, all traces of sadness completely gone. He was giving Luc whiplash. “Okay. You’re here because of a mix-up with a soul?”

And just like that, Luc’s sour mood was back.

“Yes. Oren came down with the last batch we had about a month ago. He’s an innocent soul. All the sin markers agree he has no reason to be down there. And he’s just genuinely a lovely person.”

“So you like him?” the Big Man asked, throwing Luc off with the sudden and personal question.

Luc swallowed heavily and pushed it aside. “He doesn’t belong in Hell, G. End of story.”

He frowned at the dismissive flap of the Big Guy’s hand.

“Not what I asked, Lucifer. I asked if you like him.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with a lot, actually.”

“We need to stick to the facts.”

G rolled his eyes. “Just answer the question, Luc.”

“I have,” Luc gritted out, getting more and more riled up by the conversation going nowhere.

“Not,” G finished for him. “Now you’re making me think he didn’t make an impression at all.”

“I fucking adore him, okay?” he yelled, jumping out of his seat and not giving a single flying fuck about the language he was using. G hated when he cursed. Luc usually tried to respect that when he was visiting, but he couldn’t control himself anymore. “He’s the weirdest, most amazing person I’ve ever met. He’s stunning, and he’s made himself a spot in Hell that’s gonna be so fucking empty when he leaves. G… he’s everything, okay? And I don’t know what to do with myself now, but I know I have to let him go.”

“Why would you have to let him go?” G asked simply.

Luc panted, gripping the back of the chair he was standing next to, his claws ripping into the light blue upholstery. Little spots of fire were blazing in the wake of his uncontrolled emotions, and he tried to get them under wraps before the entire thing burst into flames.

“He doesn’t belong in Hell,” Luc said again.

G crossed his arms and smiled. “I didn’t send him to Hell.”

Luc backtracked, remembering he shouldn’t agitate him any more than he already was. “No, I didn’t say you did, just… It was a mistake… apparently, and—”

“I sent him to you,” G said, interrupting Luc’s tirade. “You just happen to be in Hell.”

The whole of Heaven and Earth stood still.

“You sent…”

G nodded like an enthusiastic child. “Brilliant, right?”

“What… what is happening?” Luc asked faintly.

“I watched Oren his whole life, you know. A lot of prayers from his parents for him,” G said. “Sadly, there wasn’t much I could do. But I got to know him over the span of his life, and he’s wonderfully… odd.”

“Odd…” Luc repeated, his head swimming with what he was hearing.

“Isn’t he? He never really fit in among his fellow humans. Kind and sweet as he is, there is something a bit twisted about him. His dreams and imagination are so… dark.”

“So you…?”

“Not at first.” G shook his head. “But he died so suddenly, and when his soul started reaching up, I had this flash of him being down there in Hell. Him finding like-minded folk he could finally form closer friendships with. Him meeting you. You’ve been so lonely, Luc.”

“You played matchmaker ?” Luc asked, the pieces finally falling into place.

He should have known a mistake like that would never happen on Peter’s watch. He should have known the sudden complete absence of G when Luc needed his help was weird. But Oren had been too good of a distraction for Luc to worry about it too much.

Oren clouded his judgment. He made him slip up and miss so many different signs he should have caught. Oren was stuck in Hell because Luc was lonely.

“He doesn’t deserve to be down there,” Luc said, guilt making him feel dizzy.

“He deserves to have a place where he can be himself. He’d be so bored here, Luc.” G shook his head. “His mind is a little too… weird for him to actually be happy here.”

“But he’s an innocent soul.”

“He died one… yes. But you don’t know where life would have taken him had he lived longer. Years of waiting for a cure for his illness. Years of hospitals and people abandoning ship because it’s too hard to handle. It would push the strongest of people over the edge. The brightest stars leave behind the darkest black holes when they implode.”

“He’s a good person!”

“He is,” G said. “And he’ll remain one now that his life is over. But he wouldn’t really fit in here, Luc. You know it. He took to Hell too well, don’t you think? He likes your demons. He likes your hellbeasts. He likes you.”

Luc clenched his jaw. Everything inside him was burning. He was getting permission. He was getting a blessing from the man himself to keep Oren. To have him stay with him and keep making his life perfect for the rest of eternity.

He was allowed.

And yet it didn’t feel right.

“If I ask him,” Luc said, “and he chooses Heaven…”

“He’s welcome here, of course.” G held his hands up. “For all intents and purposes, he does meet the criteria to be here.”

“I’ll ask then,” Luc said, nose in the air.

G seemed amused. “You do what you feel is best, but, Luc, he’s not gonna leave you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m literally the all-knowing,” he said smugly, and Luc was too raw and too shaken to coddle him anymore.

“Your favorite skater literally retired without you knowing,” he snapped, and G’s expression darkened, his eyes blazing anger at Luc.

“That was low, and you know it!” G screeched so loudly the walls of his palace shook. The door to his office slammed open, Peter standing there glaring at Luc.

“I told you not to aggravate him,” Peter said as he swooshed in, taking the blanket and swaddling G in it like a baby.

“He deserved it,” Luc said.

“DID NOT!” G said from inside his cocoon, and Peter pointed a finger at the door, lips pinched tight in disappointment. “You really are the devil, you know!”

“Out,” Peter said.

Luc scurried from the room, reeling from what he had learned. He had so many huge decisions to make.

He trekked out of the palace, looking at the stairway and flipping it the bird, turning to the highway that would lead him back home in no time.