Lucifer

     I crossed my legs and tapped against the back of the chair beside me. It wasn't every day that I was called by Syn and he never ever called me to meet. I picked up my cup of coffee and took a sip of the warm drink.

Sugar instantly attacked my senses and I sat up, gagging. I went ahead and ordered for us. The barista assured me that this was the best thing on their menu and I trusted her clearly skewed advice. This tasted like shit. If I wanted to go into diabetic shock, I'd chug a bag of sugar instead. It'd probably be infinitely more pleasant.

I looked across the table at Syn's drink and hoped they only made a mistake with mine. I didn't have a sweet tooth, but his was practically nonexistent.

I grabbed his cup and took off the lid before taking a sniff of it. Sweet heat wafted my nostrils and my lips curled in disgust as I moved it away and closed it.

We were going to need new drinks—

"What are you doing?"

I looked up to see Syn looking down at his drink in my hands. My hand rested over the lid and I took in how compromising this must've looked.

"Am I witnessing a drug attempt?" He pulled out the chair across from me and removed his jacket before taking a seat.

"Not by me." I set the drink down before adjusting my tie and looking toward the conniving barista. "She said this was their best drink, but mine tasted like death. I was simply checking if yours was the same."

He reached out for his cup and fixed the lid before taking a sip. I raised my brow as he drank it and gave me a shrug. "I like it."

Something else that was new.

I was missing a lot of these new things and I didn't know how to feel about it quite yet. Everything that was below the surface of what I could see right now became a mystery to me during these recent years. But anyone with a pair of eyes could see he was a mess right now.

"You look like crap."

"Do I?" His voice was low as he stared down at the cup in his hands.

"You do." I sat back. "It's not a good look for the King of Hell."

"Mm." He hummed.

"You are a representation of your people. Your burdens should be left at home or even better, ignored."

He laughed softly. "Was that what I was to you?" He asked me. "A burden that you left at home...ignored?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You were never a burden. You are my son."

"And that is what you tell your son?" He asked, looking at me with tired eyes. "There are things more important than you— ignore what's troubling you."

When he says it like that...

"I'm a father now too, you know," he said. "I would never tell Saint to do something like that to himself even if I thought he was strong enough to bear it. Even you, father. Despite our issues, if you came to me troubled...I wouldn't tell you to ignore it."

I sighed. "Is that why you called me here?" I asked him, frustrated. "To nitpick at my parenting again? Was I truly that horrible to you, Syn?"

He shook his head. "You weren't horrible," he said and I relaxed a bit. "To be horrible, you would've had to be something of significance to me. You would've had to be there."

"I was always there."

"Not for me." He shook his head, a distant look in his eyes. "For my powers, yes. To send me on a mission, yes. To work for you, yes...But for me, no."

"You didn't need that."

"Says who?" He asked me, setting down his drink. "I was your first and only child. If anything, there was time and opportunity for trial and error. If you spoke to me and I didn't answer, you could've tried changing your tone. If you approached me and I never smiled, that didn't mean give up. It meant next time try something else—"

"Syn—"

"...you could've brought a fucking toy or let me watch cartoons or something."

"I'm failing to realize the importance of this conversation right now," I said lowly, looking around the cafe. It was empty except for the workers. "The time for this discussion has come and gone. You are no longer a child. You are a king. You should place high value on how you appear in front of your subjects."

"I can't bring myself to care much about appearances right now, Father," he said. "I have things to say and I promise after today you will never hear from me again. But you will not patronize me right now."

I clenched my jaw and sat back in the seat. Okay. He was the King. If this was what he wanted to do in public, that was his liberty. "Fine. Go ahead, but just know that after today, I will never sit still for a conversation like this again."

He leaned forward and nodded before sucking his teeth. "Why did you never sign me up for therapy?"

"Seriously?" I asked, but his expression had no humor in it. I...I didn't necessarily know. I shrugged and sputtered. "I-it just...wasn't ideal."

"Because?"

"You were a child and I took you away from the problem. What was there to discuss with a therapist? You never said anything to me."

"A child has been in an abusive home for years before coming into your care. He doesn't speak, doesn't eat, has night terrors— wets the bed...but he is to tell you he needs to speak to a therapist?"

"I thought you needed time." I shrugged. "And you would lash out every time someone tried to get you out of your bedroom."

"How would you know that?"

What? "The servants told me."

"You didn't think to try for yourself once?"

"Let's be clear here; it was several servants. They almost lost their lives trying to get you to have dinner."

"So you know what you do then?" He asked. "You put on your fucking big boy panties and drag your son out of the room. I was skin and bones. What could I have done to you?"

I swallowed. "I just figured you'd be more receptive to more nurturing figures. You hardly knew me. So...sorry. I sent the maids instead of myself."

When Syn first came to Hell, he wanted nothing to do with anyone. I believed he knew who I was and wanted nothing to do with me. I thought putting a kinder buffer between us would help him open up to me, but apparently, I was wrong again.

He laughed softly and glanced up at the ceiling. "Let's use our deductive minds for a moment." He tapped on his head. "I'll go slow for you. A boy comes from an abusive household and isolates himself from everyone. Why do you think that is?"

"I would assume he's afraid," I gathered.

He nodded. "I couldn't exactly feel that, but I was conditioned. That's close enough," he said. "We met once before I locked myself in that bedroom. Do you remember how I reacted?"

I shook my head and shrugged a shoulder. "You were fine, I guess? You didn't speak to or look at me."

"Did I attack you?"

"No."

"Okay." He sat back. "So said child is not reactionary to you, but to the female servants you send in on a repeated basis."

I furrowed my brows in confusion. I was with him until I wasn't. "I don't think...I'm not understanding what you're getting at."

He smiled at me and it was then that I noticed how shiny his eyes were. He was on the verge of tears. Discomfort began to etch itself into my chest and my hand clenched into a fist in my lap. He had only cried in front of me once before and I hated it. I hated not knowing what to do.

"I'm going to die, Father," he told me and everything around me suddenly froze. "I am going to die in forty-eight hours and I wanted to see you today because I thought you could tell me to screw it all and do something."

"What are you talking about, Syn?" I couldn't hide the unease in my voice. He was dying? What the fuck was he talking about?

"And fuck, it's so disappointing to be proven so damn wrong yet so right at the same time," he said. "You're the same as always and seeing me in this state has done nothing to change you."

"Syn, what is going on?"

"If you had asked me once since I've sat down what's troubling me, maybe you could've saved my life." He nodded slowly. "Instead, tonight, I will tell you all the things I've never told you before. From now on, you will be the one with a burden every time you think of me. And for once, the thought of me will not be something you can just ignore."

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