Soldier Boy

Chapter Nineteen

While public transportation wasn't Gabriel's favorite way of getting around, it proved useful when you were too poor to get a car.

When Gabriel had ended the call with his father, he'd immediately called Lucifer to come home so they could immediately leave for home. Lucifer had immediately said no, denied this had been true and had said it was some big trap. Gabriel had insisted otherwise and said he was going with or without his big brother. Lucifer had caved, refusing to allow Gabriel to go back to that house of hell without backup.

He'd talked to his boss, Fergus, who'd agreed easily. Both had a love-hate relationship. Lucifer was his best worker, but sometimes the sarcastic runaway just rubbed him the wrong way. Fergus let him go, understanding that family was the most important thing in life, even if you hated them sometimes. Sometimes the man regretted not having a good relationship with his own son, but he'd lost contact with the boy years ago.

Lucifer had walked the few blocks home, Gabriel waiting anxiously and paving the room. Amara was laying quietly in her bed under the covers, wrapped in a robe, drinking a bottle of booze that had been hidden somewhere by one of the boys ages ago.

When he did arrive home, it had been one of the worst experiences of Gabriel's life to get Amara ready to leave. They'd shoved her into the bathroom, refusing to let her out or have the alcohol until she'd changed. Once she did, they shoved some shoes on her as she'd drank from the bottle like an infant with their bottle of milk. Then, they'd had to drag her out and to the nearest bus station a block away, while she fought and stumbled the whole way.

After buying a ticket and waiting for their bus, they'd boarded the bus and handed over their tickets. They'd had to hide the alcohol on the bus, Amara secretly drinking it as the boys tried to block her from the other passengers' view. Of course, some still saw, but they seemed to not mind as long as she stayed quiet and kept everything PG.

After a few stops and a while of just open driving, they'd finally reached their stop. They'd helped Amara, who still somehow had no clue what was going on, off the bus; it was better that way, though. If she knew, she might put up more of a fight.

The boys' childhood home wasn't far from the station, but it seemed even farther as Amara had to be practically dragged the whole way. When they were on the same street, she began fighting more, causing a ruckus as people looked at them strangely. Finally, they had to stop, her struggling getting to be too much for the boys.

"What the hell is wrong?" Lucifer growled, scowling.

"You think I don't know where we are? I've memorized this place. When I still had a car, I drove by here almost daily. I kept asking myself what I was doing, telling myself I should just go and talk to him. I never did, but I checked up on you. I know the way to that house just as well as you boys do," Amara growled, and the boys' eyes widened as they exchanged glances.

They'd never asked if she knew about them, if she knew where they'd grown up. They hadn't asked if she knew anything about her baby brother anymore. She never volunteered information either- not like this. They never even knew she'd ever had a car. It was hard to think about- her, just watching them from a distance. Making sure they were all okay, when Chuck never even spoke of her. When she clearly needed someone watching over her, she watched over them.

Gabriel swallowed passed the lump in his throat. "He wants to see you."

"He wanted to fix me. Piece me back together. It's what people like him do. They get little pet projects to fix up and remake. He doesn't want to help me or talk to me," She growled miserably, but fiercely.

"No, he wants to apologize for everything." That might've been a stretch. Chuck hadn't really mentioned what he'd do, but Gabe was grasping at straws here.

She looked up at him with such broken hope, with a dejectedness that was due to years of self-loathing and not even an ounce of encouragement. This woman had a broken spirit, and Gabriel didn't know if it could ever be repaired. Lucifer wondered if this is what he would look like in a few years, if this was his fate.

Amara wordlessly followed them now, not even lifting the bottle to her lips once more as they continued their journey. As they stood on the doorstep to Gabriel's and Lucifer's childhood home, Lucifer's finger ghosted over the doorbell, but never touched it.

No one's lips moved to encourage him to press it. All of them had the same fears blaring through their minds. They were the family outcasts, the black sheep. Who was to say that the rest of the flock had or hadn't changed? Only the quiet, meek, drunken shepherd, who didn't understand his sheep.

Then, in an act of bravery, Lucifer pushed the doorbell.

The padding of feet was heard through the door, and all three thought of running. Just when Gabriel was either about to turn and run or throw up, the door opened wide, revealing the small, disheveled looking man clad in an awful striped robe that had raised Lucifer and Gabriel.

"Dad," Both boys breathed, Amara too choked up to speak. The man hadn't changed much; he had a short beard that covered his chin with a connected mustache still, but now it was peppered with grey hair. Lucifer was a few inches taller than him now, but Gabriel stood about at the same height as their father.

"Lucifer, Gabriel." Chuck smiled, then drew them both into his arms. He didn't know which boy he wanted to clutch in his arms first, so he chose both. Lucifer felt tears burn his eyes at the love he saw in his father's eyes, but blinked them away. Gabriel tried to fight those same tears, but a few slipped through as his own arms went around his big brother and father.

Amara stood back and watched, fascinated by the open love her baby brother gave his sons. There wasn't any hesitation or awkwardness after years of no contact with them besides an emotional phone call from Gabriel. There was just a father desperate to hug his children. Not a father who didn't know how to handle them after years of no physical contact with his children.

When his sons pulled away, Chuck allowed them space, his eyes looking past them and to his sister.

"Amara," Chuck breathed, voice cracking this time.

"Little brother," She murmured.

He opened his arms, staying in place, and the desperation for one of his hugs overwhelmed her almost instantly, and she lunged at him. He wrapped her up in a hug, Amara burying her head in his chest as she just breathed in his scent.