Chapter Text
“I’ll do that when Hell freezes over.”
It’s a common enough statement, both on earth and in hell. Most people would tell you it’s just a saying. Topside half of them don’t even believe hell exists, and once they get there the climate becomes obvious. It’s not the burning lakes of fire that many expect. (Those do exist, but primarily in Wrath.) It is, however, hot. The only saving grace in Pride is the lack of humidity. Lust and Envy aren’t so lucky, but the demons who call those rings their home were born to withstand those conditions, and aren’t terribly bothered.
Many of the demons living in Pride have grown accustomed to the heat, regardless of the regions they originally hailed from. Clothing tends to be lighter, allowing many demons to wear their preferred attire of multiple layers and coats. And that has been fine, for approximately 3,000 years.
The problem is that hell has actually frozen over. None of the sinners currently alive are old enough to remember, but Lucifer does. Hell has frozen over twice in the last 10,000 years, and the most recent was just shy of 3,000 years ago.
Lucifer has no idea when it will happen again. (It’s not like he has a lot of data to go on.) So he’s as shocked as everyone else at the hotel when the first snowflakes fall.
The day starts like any other. It’s slightly cooler than average, but well within the expected temperatures for hell. Alastor disappears immediately following breakfast, and the rest of the hotel disperses to their own daily routines. Lucifer doesn’t have any plans, and Alastor refused to tell him his, so he decides to spend the day working on the hotel. It’s been a few months since they rebuilt, and everything is still in pretty good condition, save for that one wall that he’s repaired 4 times already and has been getting increasingly plain with his restorations.
He wanders the halls, clearing scuffs and handprints from the walls, adding a little extra sparkle to Angel Dust’s door decorations, and generally making sure Charlie’s project is looking its best. After lunch he starts working on the outside, noting idly that the temperature has dropped a bit, beginning to dip into unusually chilly. Still, it’s nice to stretch his wings, and he enjoys flitting around the exterior of the hotel and checking for anything he can touch up.
It’s late afternoon when Charlie comes to check on him. He lands by her side, explaining what he’s been up to today. She’s nodding appreciatively and explaining some adjustments she’s been thinking about when the snow starts.
It’s not a gradual beginning. One minute it’s pleasantly nippy out, the next the temperature has dropped by several dozen degrees and it’s snowing heavily. The wind whips up, turning what could’ve been a pleasant wintery experience into something like a blizzard.
Charlie freaks out, which is understandable. She wasn’t around for the last freeze, and unlike the sinners, she’s never had the chance to experience snow for herself.
Lucifer hustles her back inside, reassuring her that it’s OK and not the end of the world. Vaggie hurries to her side as he guides her into the common room and lights a fire in the fireplace that had, until now, been decorative. He has to make a quick adjustment to the building to slip a chimney in to get rid of the smoke.
“What’s going on?” Vaggie demands.
Lucifer shrugs. “Hell’s freezing over.”
Vaggie mutters something under her breath in Spanish, and Lucifer’s pretty sure it’s either swears or insults to his intelligence.
“It’s happened before,” he explains, ignoring her. “I don’t know what causes it. The first one lasted about a week, and the second was 4 days, so it shouldn’t last too long.”
“This has happened before?” Charlie asks with wide eyes.
“Yeah, but not for a few thousand years.”
Vaggie shivers, rubbing her bare arms. Lucifer conjures a big fluffy blanket and herds the girls to the couch. He sits them down and wraps them up in the blanket and each other.
“You’ll probably want to put on a few more layers, but hey, it's a good excuse to cuddle with your sweetheart,” he says with a wink.
Charlie turns bright red, but they’re distracted by Angel Dust’s arrival. “I heard something about cuddling?”
Lucifer creates a second blanket for Angel, who burrito’s himself and shuffles off to find Husk. Niffty scurries into the room as he leaves. “It’s snowing! I’m gonna make snow angels! Wait, am I allowed to make snow angels in hell?”
Lucifer shrugs. “Probably? But let's wait till it slows down. The wind will blow your snow angels away as soon as you finish.”
Niffty nods, and Lucifer starts creating a blanket for her as well, but she just clambers into the fire and sits down. “I’m gonna take a nap, wake me up for dinner.”
Lucifer finishes the blanket anyway, and adds a few more to the pile for good measure. “Aren’t you cold, Dad?” Charlie asks.
Lucifer gives her a grin. “Nah, I can warm myself up with my magic. Good thing, too, because someone has to cook dinner!”
He makes a stew, wanting something warm. Normally they all eat together in the dining room, but tonight huddling around the fire sounds better.
Angel has succeeded in coercing Husk into his blanket, and commandeered two more to cover the ridiculous amount of limbs the two of them have. Lucifer tucks a blanket around himself just to be cozy, and wonders where Alastor is.
His question is answered when the front door bangs open. Alastor leans heavily against it to close it against the wind. His face is red from the wind, and his hair has blown into disarray and frozen. Lucifer can hear his teeth chattering from where he sits.
“Alastor!” Charlie cries.
“G-g-good evening dear,” he says, clearly going for unaffected and failing miserably.
Charlie starts to try to struggle out of her blanket, but Lucifer sheds his and stops her with a hand on her shoulder.
He pushes Alastor into the kitchen, waving his hand to dry his soaked clothing and defrost his hair. He reaches up, combing through it with his fingers, and Alastor allows it, before running his own fingers through it as well. Lucifer pushes a bowl of stew into the demon’s hands and grabs another piece of bread to dip in what’s left of his own.
Alastor’s still shaking, but not bad enough to spill his soup. Lucifer wants to wrap him in a blanket like he did Charlie. Hell, he wants to wrap himself and Alastor up like Charlie and Vaggie, but he opts for simply tucking himself into the other side of the loveseat Alastor picks (for its proximity to a table where he can put his stew) and shoving his feet underneath Alastor’s thigh.
Alastor yips, and glares at him.”Your feet are freezing.”
He gives him a shit-eating grin. “I know.”
They enjoy their dinner in relative silence. Alastor plays some soft jazz but nobody speaks.
“So, Highness, is this cold weather your doing? Threw a tantrum perhaps?” Alastor asks after they’ve finished.
“Har har, no, it’s actually because you kept giving me the cold shoulder.”
Charlie looks between them, clearly concerned they’re going to start fighting, but Alastor just snorts. “What’s the real reason?”
“Dunno. Some sort of cosmic joke? Someone made a promise that they’d do something when hell freezes over and it triggered magic even I’m not aware of?”
Alastor drapes a blanket over his lap, and tosses the extra over Lucifer. Beneath the blanket his hand rests on Lucifer’s shin.
Angel snuggles further into his and Husk’s nest of blankets. “You gonna sleep in my bed tonight, share body heat?” he asks, his voice a low purr.
“I don’t know what you get up to in your bed, and I don’t want to, so no.”
Angel pouts. “Aww, c’mon, it’s cold!”
Husk bonks Angel’s head with his own. “ You can sleep in my bed, if you like.”
“Oh fuck yeah!”
“I’m gonna sleep here,” Niffty says from her spot in the fire. “I can keep the fire going.”
Angel snickers. “Who’s gonna cuddle you, Smiles?”
Alastor glares at him.
Husk snorts. “Alastor? Cuddle? Yeah right.”
“Hmm, yes, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I cuddle anyone. Except, hmm, it is rather cold today isn’t it?”
“Yeah?” Husk agrees warily.
“Well then,” Alastor says, and deftly scoops Lucifer up and drops him in his lap.
Lucifer squawks, but Alastor gives him a devious smile. “Don’t you want to cuddle, duckling?”
Everyone stares at them. Husk reaches up and nudges Angel’s mouth shut. Lucifer buries his head in Alastor’s chest, yanking the blanket up over his head.
Niffty tumbles out of the fire, yanking on Alastor’s pant leg. “Are you and the bad boy dating?”
“No. The king and I are not dating. I don’t date. However, I have come to be… more amenable to Lucifer’s presence in my life.”
“He’s my partner, but it’s not romantic,” Lucifer says, but his face is still mushed into Alastor’s shirt, so it comes out extremely muffled.
Charlie squeals, loud enough that Vaggie has to lean away from her. “This is so exciting, I wanted you guys to get along, I’m so happy for you!”
Alastor sighs, resting his chin on Lucifer’s head. “And this is exactly why we didn’t tell you sooner. Please Charlie, do not make this into a big deal.”
“Right, right, not making a big deal,” Charlie agrees, still looking slightly manic.
Niffty shuffles back into the fire, muttering to herself.
“Write your stories about someone else, please,” Alastor says.
She just sticks her tongue out at him.
Lucifer finally pulls the blanket off his head. He’s still blushing slightly, but he slides out of Alastor’s lap, carefully replacing the blanket, and wanders back into the kitchen. “Apple cider or hot chocolate?” he calls back.
The girls opt for hot chocolate, and the boys all ask for cider. Lucifer prepares the drinks, adding whipped cream and chocolate shavings to the hot cocoa and cinnamon sticks to the cider. He brings the mugs out on a tray with a flourish.
Alastor holds Lucifer’s mug while he scoots back under the blanket, curling up against the Radio Demon’s side. Alastor drapes an arm around her, giving Charlie a glare when she looks like she’s going to start squealing again.
“Shall I tell a story to pass the time?” Alastor asks.
“I don’t want to hear about your latest murder,” Husk grouses.
Alastor tsks. “Now now Husker, I do have stories that don’t involve murder!”
“I like the murder stories,” Niffty offers.
Alastor takes a sip of his cider. “I know dear, but we have to entertain everyone tonight.”
She crosses her arms, but leans back in the fireplace.
“Once upon a time,” Alastor begins. “A long time ago, in the far off land of New Orleans, there was a lovely young lady named Ruth. She lived in a little apartment with her son, and they had a garden. Ruth worked hard during the day, but she always made sure she had time to tend her garden, and her little boy helped. They say plants grow better with love and Ruth’s garden flourished.
“She grew tomatoes, and squash, and zucchini, as well as quite a few herbs. In the fall she would plant a few pumpkins, and they would carve them for Halloween. If she had extra vegetables, she shared them with her neighbors. They would work together to can and pickle and preserve them for the winter. And the neighbors appreciated her generosity, especially the ones on higher floors who couldn’t have gardens of their own.
“One summer, she and her little boy picked the zucchini, and gave some to their neighbors, but more zucchini was still growing. So they pickled some, and the neighbors pickled some, and she gave some to her coworkers, and the neighbors gave some to their coworkers, and they still had more zucchini left to pick!
“So Ruth gave her little boy a task. ‘Take this bag of Zucchini, and give it to someone. Or a couple of people, but get rid of the zucchini.’
‘And so, he took his bag of zucchini and headed into the city. The first day, he found two people, very obviously tourists, and offered them the vegetables. They cooed over him, which he found demeaning, but tolerated, because they also gave him a small payment for his offering. So he did the same thing the next day, and the next, and the next.
“On the fifth day, he arrived with his bag of vegetables, only to be accosted by a shopkeeper. He chased the boy off, telling him that he was ruining his business. The boy didn’t think that was true, it was just zucchini, but he left anyway. On his way home, wondering what he should do with his zucchini, he saw an automobile. They weren’t plentiful in those days, so he knew exactly who owned it.
“The man who owned the car was rude, and looked down on Ruth and her son because they grew their own food, instead of purchasing it from the grocer. Ruth said that homegrown produce tasted better, and her son agreed, but purchasing all of one’s food was a sign of affluence that Ruth clearly lacked.
“So of course, the young man left the entire bag of zucchini on the driver’s seat. He dumped them out, and kept the bag, and hurried home. For the next week, he specifically looked for that man’s fancy car, just to drop more zucchini in it. The gentleman, if one can call him that, began complaining to anyone that would listen, that he was being haunted by zucchini.
“He began to suspect Ruth. Her son thought that someone probably told him she’d been giving them away. So he marched up to her front door and demanded to see her garden. Ruth had already figured out what her boy had been doing, but she didn’t care for him either, so she hadn’t said anything. As luck would have it, the season was turning, and the zucchini had finally stopped growing. A practiced gardener could easily identify the remnants of the plants, but a man who boasted that he never had to grow his own food had nary a clue. He simmered, but he had no proof.
“He never did prove that Ruth’s boy was responsible, but for the next few summers he continued to find zucchini in his car.”
Angel pipes up. “Is this some sort of dick metaphor?”
“No, zucchini really do grow in ridiculous amounts, and people will just give them away in any way they can. And he really was quite an ass, and he deserved his plant based punishment. When Rosie and I cooked him we made sure to include zucchini in the dish, as one last middle finger to him.”
Lucifer looks up at him. “Were you Ruth’s boy?”
“Indeed I was. I was quite the little terror.”
“I’d say you still are.”
Alastor boops him on the nose. “I disagree. I am no little terror. I am the horrors beyond comprehension.”
Lucifer’s tongue flicks out to lick his finger. “Yes, yes, big scary Radio Demon.”
Charlie launches into a tale of her own childhood and then Niffty tells about her time on earth as well. They keep the stories lighthearted, even Niffty, which Charlie praises her for. Eventually Charlie starts yawning, and Vaggie bundles her off to bed. Husk and Angel soon follow. Niffty drifts off in the fire, and Lucifer fireproofs a pillow for Alastor to gently slide under her head.
Then Alastor scoops Lucifer up, still wrapped in his blanket, and carries him up to his room. He curls up against the king, carefully tucking his head under his chin. Lucifer pulls him close, stroking his back. “Big bad radio demon’s feeling cuddly, huh?”
“Big bad radio demon’s feeling cold. I’m from Louisiana, I don’t do cold.”
Lucifer sends a pulse of warmth through him, pulling him closer. “It won’t last forever. I think you might break Niffty’s heart if you don’t play with her in the snow though.”
“Ugh. I need a warmer coat.”
“You cook breakfast and I’ll make everyone winter coats.”
“I suppose I can accept that.”
They snuggle closer, appreciating each other’s warmth, and sleep well, despite the frozen state of hell.