Chapter Text
"Where do you want these?" Abel asked, balancing a large box in his arms.
"Oh! Over by the parlor for now!" Charlie responded, pointing to her left as she sorted through another stack of supplies.
Abel walked over and carefully placed the box down with a small grunt. " Woof! That’s a heavy box! What’s in here, anyway?"
Charlie’s face lit up with excitement. "I’m so glad you asked!" she said, prying open the flaps. Abel blinked as she revealed an assortment of baby items—plushies, pacifiers, bottles, soft blankets, and even adult-sized onesies and diapers.
His heart lurched at the sight.
"I’ve been reading about this amazing coping mechanism that I think could really help a lot of sinners on their road to redemption!" Charlie explained eagerly, pulling out a pastel-colored onesie. "It’s called age regression ! Doesn’t that sound like fun?"
Abel felt the color drain from his face, though he forced himself to smile. "Oh? Uh…what’s age regression?" He asked, feigning curiosity. But he already knew the answer.
Because…well…
"It’s a therapeutic method where people revert to a younger mindset as a way to cope with stress and trauma!" Charlie continued, completely oblivious to Abel’s growing discomfort. "It helps them feel safe, letting go of adult worries for a while!" She beamed, rummaging through the box and pulling out a tiny pacifier with a giggle.
Abel swallowed hard, anxiety curling in his stomach. His gaze flickered to the onesies, the stuffed animals—things far too familiar to him. He quickly averted his eyes.
"O-oh. How…interesting," he mumbled, trying to keep his tone light.
Charlie grinned. "So I was thinking of setting up an exercise where we do partners! One person will take the role of the ‘little’ and the other will be their caregiver!"
Abel’s hands clenched at his sides. " Or maybe…let them choose?" The words slipped out before he could stop himself. He mentally cursed himself for speaking up. "After all…this could be overwhelming for some people."
Charlie considered this, tapping her chin. "Oh! Great idea! But I do worry there might be more littles than there are caregivers, or vice versa…"
"Maybe not everyone has to participate?" Abel suggested meekly. "In case some people aren’t comfortable with it."
Charlie pouted slightly. "That’s true…"
"Hey, I’ll volunteer to sit this one out!" Abel added quickly, hoping to end the conversation before Charlie could press any further.
Her expression fell. "Are you sure?"
Abel forced another smile. "Yeah. I mean… it’s not like Heaven’s gonna let me back in, right? I just wanna help others now. That’s all."
That was the God’s honest truth.
Even as a fallen angel, Abel still had a good heart. He wanted to help others find peace, even if he couldn’t find it himself.
But still, he wasn’t fully comfortable with himself around his sister.
Abel took a step back, his breath hitching as Charlie continued sorting through the box with giddy excitement.
"Oh! Look at these tiny mittens!" Charlie beamed, pulling out a pair of soft, pastel gloves meant for a regressed state. "Aren’t they just the cutest? And these baby bottles—I made sure to get different styles just in case someone has a preference!"
Abel barely heard her.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears as his eyes darted over the scattered regression items. The onesies, the pacifiers, the plushies—things that had once been his comfort. Things that had made him feel safe back in Heaven.
Back before the teasing.
Before the whispers.
"How pathetic."
"You were the first murder victim, and this is what you became?"
"A child in an angel’s body? Disgusting."
The memories came rushing back, clawing up from the depths of his mind like sharp thorns wrapping around his throat. He had been a little once. He had trusted Heaven to protect him, to understand. But instead, he had been shamed. Judged. Mocked until he learned to shove that part of himself down so deep it barely saw the light of day.
And now… as a fallen angel?
He couldn't even begin to imagine what the others would think of him here.
A cold wave of panic washed over him. His body stiffened, his fingers curling into trembling fists as he took another step back—
"Abel? You okay?"
Abel snapped his head up just as Vaggie approached, glancing between him and Charlie. She was carrying another small box of supplies, a skeptical look on her face.
"I figured you’d need help, Charlie," Vaggie said as she set the box down beside her. "Not that I entirely understand why you think this is a good idea, but hey—your project, your rules."
Charlie huffed but smiled anyway. "Oh, come on, Vaggie! Don’t you think this could really help some of the sinners here? A fresh start, a way to heal—"
Vaggie raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her gaze back to Abel.
"You sure you’re good?"
Abel blinked rapidly, realizing he had been staring blankly at the items, his body still stiff. He forced a chuckle—too light, too forced. "Yeah, just… thinking about how much work this is gonna be. Hope you know what you’re getting into, Charlie."
Charlie giggled. "Oh, I always know what I’m getting into!"
Vaggie snorted. "That’s a damn lie."
Abel smiled weakly, but his chest still felt tight, his heart still hammering too fast. He needed to get out of here. Just for a little while.
"I, uh—I think I’m gonna grab some air," he muttered, taking another step back. "Let you guys do your thing."
Charlie tilted her head, clearly concerned, but she nodded. "Alright! But if you change your mind, we’d love to have you join in!"
Abel barely mumbled a response before turning on his heel and slipping out of the room.
Once he was in the hall, away from the regression items, he pressed his back against the wall and exhaled shakily. His hands still trembled. His chest still felt too tight.
"You’re not in Heaven anymore," he told himself. "No one even has to know."
But the fear wouldn't go away.
Because deep down, a part of him still wasn’t sure that was true.
Abel leaned against the hallway wall, rubbing at his arms as he tried to steady his breathing. He hated this feeling—the tightness in his chest, the anxiety curling in his gut. It had been years since he last let himself even think about regression, and yet, just seeing those items had sent him spiraling.
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the emotions away.
"Ah, there you are."
Abel jumped, nearly smacking his head against the wall at the sudden voice. He turned sharply to see Lucifer standing a few feet away, hands clasped neatly behind his back, golden eyes watching him with an unreadable expression.
Lucifer Morningstar, the Lightbringer himself, Prince of Hell.
His mother .
Abel swallowed hard, quickly forcing a neutral expression. "Uh, yeah. Just… needed some air."
Lucifer tilted his head, stepping closer. "Air? You do realize we’re inside , yes?"
Abel huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Figure of speech."
Lucifer hummed, clearly not convinced, but didn’t push. Instead, he shifted awkwardly, glancing toward the doorway Abel had fled from. "Charlie mentioned something about a… new exercise she’s working on. You were helping her?"
Abel tensed slightly but nodded. "Yeah. Just moving boxes. You know how she gets with her plans."
Lucifer exhaled through his nose, a half-smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, trust me, I do ." He paused for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking… uncomfortable.
Abel frowned slightly. It was rare to see Lucifer anything but composed.
"So," Lucifer continued, voice carefully measured, "how have you been… settling in?"
Abel blinked at him. "At the hotel?"
Lucifer nodded, looking almost hesitant.
Abel furrowed his brow. "Uh, it’s… been fine? Charlie and the others are nice. I mean, it’s still weird being in Hell, but I’m making it work."
Lucifer nodded again, his gaze flickering away for a second before he let out a short sigh. "Good. That’s… good." He cleared his throat. "And, ah… if there’s anything you need—"
"I’m fine," Abel cut in quickly, offering a small smile. "But thanks."
Lucifer pursed his lips, eyes searching Abel’s face like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words.
The silence between them stretched uncomfortably.
Abel shifted on his feet, rubbing his arms again. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the heavy awkwardness hanging between them or the way Lucifer seemed to be trying to connect with him.
It would be so much easier if Lucifer didn’t try. If he just treated him like every other demon in Hell.
But instead, he was standing here, fumbling through the conversation like he actually wanted to bond with Abel.
And Abel didn’t know how to deal with that.
"Well," Lucifer finally said, straightening his posture, "if you do need anything, my door is open."
Abel hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Thank you uh…Lucifer."
Lucifer looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, with a curt nod, he turned and walked away, leaving Abel standing in the hallway, heart still racing for an entirely different reason.