30 Days of Lucifer and Trixie - [Writing Prompt June 2019]

Day 10. Blinking Lights

[Series Notes]
•This will be updated according to my timezone - AWST (GMT+8)
•Trixie is her canon age - about 10.
•Creator of this Writing Prompt List is Mia Botha and can be found on Pinterest.
•This Series will also be posted to my Ao3 for a broader audience (@HolyKingWasteLand)

~o0o~

Lucifer lets out a choked growl, curling his wings around himself painfully. He pulls his knees up to his chest and holds them tight. He stretches his wings out, and then pulls them back around himself with a wince. His wings have been acting up for months, they finally let up a little after Beatrice's massage, but the relief was short lasting.

He gently takes his left wing in his hands and attempts to soothe it, but it's tender to the touch and he only lasts a few minutes.

He's supposed to be invulnerable, damn it!

All the lights are off in the penthouse, and his phone is muted for anyone except the Detective and her spawn. He wants to get up and have a drink or ten, maybe the buzzing feeling will overpower the aching in his bones?

Probably not.

He doesn't think he could move even if he wanted to. Folding his wings away is a no-go, he's already tried and doesn't want to go through that again. He shifts slightly, feeling his legs going slightly numb-

White hot pain cuts through his brain like an electric shock and he falls to the floor, curling up in a ball. The pain overrides anything and everything, he can't think, he can't breathe-

Oh dad- he can't breathe.

His eyes widen and he claws at his throat, trying to get his body to continue pumping oxygen into him. After a minute of struggling, he succumbs to unconsciousness. Painless oblivion.

~o0o~

Trixie was having a weird day. She could tell something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what it was. It was like someone was constantly watching her, but every time she went to look for the culprit, no one was ever there.

It was unsettling to say the least. The eyes on her back never felt threatening, they felt comforting, like someone was watching out for her...

But that didn't mean she was comfortable with being watched all the time.

All throughout her school day, she stuck close to her friends, not mentioning why she was so jumpy. They chalked it up to Trixie being Trixie and left it alone.

During her classes, she kept hearing her name being called by a deep calming voice, too deep a voice for anyone in her class. While it sent a feeling of serenity her way, she was still seriously freaked out by the disembodied voice; who was it? What did they want?

Lucifer....

Lucifer? That made her pause. Why was the voice saying Lucifer? Was something wrong with the former angel now lord of hell?

Was she going crazy?

She picks up her phone – sitting in the back of class has its perks! – and pulls up hers and Lucifer's messages. She quickly types something out, and then puts her phone away, trying to focus on her teacher's voice.

The rest of the lesson goes by painfully slowly, but she doesn't feel the buzz in her pocket, which is very concerning. Lucifer never – ever – ignores her messages, even if it's a stupid question or a simple "hello".

She sends another message.

Spawn (10:26am): hey lucifer! you okay?

Spawn (11:02am): lucifer?