al_truism | (Old) IC Contact Post

More than the ability to patiently hope for the best and whistle while he works.

[Lucifer is rubbing his sinuses. He's trying to care if he pisses Al off, but it's just not there. Nothing is, but a dull sense of hopelessness and rage.]

The ability to know when and how to act, for starters. If more of you knew that your lives might actually mean something.

That's different from cruelty, Lucifer.

[He says it quietly. He can almost sense it -- the feeling that Lucifer is thinking something more. It's what makes him listen when he speaks. He honestly believes that they have things to teach each other.]

[Lucifer doesn't even answer that. Not because it's struck home, not because he feels guilt for his cruelty. It just doesn't matter right now to argue over whether or not he is cruel, or justified in it.

Al's mind is made up, and in the long run it doesn't matter if Lucifer can change that. He already has one person who claims to love him, and would slit his throat anyway. Actually, he has two of those. He sincerely does not want a third.

He exhales hard, ending the debate there.]

Just give him the package, would you?

... what is it?

[Softly. He doesn't sound suspicious, he just... has to ask. He doesn't want to have to take something away from him.]

I think it's an oak.

[Motioning up at the leaves.]

[Al looks critically at the package, then back up at him. What?]

Open it if you're worried. I couldn't make a bomb without sulfur, so I just had to settle.

[Al very carefully opens it without disturbing the wrapping, giving a small sigh.]

[It's a blue teddy bear with its eyes missing. In this place, most things are broken or missing parts anyway, but at least this one is clean.]

Jesse's a wee bit too old for it.

... he'll like it.

Good. And when he wonders automatically if I put anthrax in the stuffing, you can pat his head and tell him I didn't.

[He gets up, meaning to leave but he has to rather quickly turn a wince into a yawn and a stretch.]

[Al stops, staring after him.]

Are you all right?

Oh, are we playing this game again?

Enough, Al.

What game?

[He's never once not cared when he's asked that question.]

Like we're-- what, neighbours? Because we're not friends. We're not allies. I wouldn't even really call us acquaintances, would you?

[Al gives him a long look. A week ago, Lucifer was almost happy to see him. Almost complimenting him. Now, it's like he took three giant steps back.]

What, is this normal for you? I'm not hearing any suggestions.

You just looked, for a moment, like something hurt. I wanted to make sure you were all right.

[He'd do it for anyone, Luce. Anyone at all.]

[He looks at Al, for a moment just tense and angry. And then he shakes his head.]

Just the same old Army complaints.

You know, you make as much sense as I do to these people.

Why do you say that?

[Al tilts his head, like a curious puppy.]

Think about it. You were so confused how I could ask about your well being, and still be what I was. Still be willing to kill you if I had to. And now look, the shoe's right on the other foot.

It makes sense to me because I'm me. But you- you don't strike me as the type to care about that sort of thing.

Well, I did.

[And he'd learned from that mistake.]

You should be more choosy about who you throw your sympathy at, Al. People are sponges, and you can't make them better.

I know.

[Which was confusing at first. Because it's like Lucifer cared about him in some small way.]

I don't think you're like that. A sponge, anyway.

[Lucifer enjoys self-reflection, but he never really dislikes anything he finds. What he does know is that there is something that Castiel misinterpreted (or rather, allowed Rei to misinterpret for him). And that bothers him.

But whatever that element is, it's not being a sponge.]

No, I'm not. I meant most of them. The people out there who take what you give, and give you nothing back.

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