Ketch Me as I Fall

"You didn't have to drive straight through," Ketch muttered groggily from the passenger seat the next morning. He stretched as much as he could in the chair, looking almost like a cat enjoying the early morning sun. "We could have stopped."

"I don't need sleep," I said more out of habit than anything. Even if I did feel the beginnings of sleep tugging at me, it wasn't something I was keen on doing when answers could lie so close. "I'm fine."

The small town of Salem, Massachusetts was beginning to wake as we started through it. Several cars passed us down the main street, but most of the businesses still looked dark and closed. I drove towards the 'The Burying Point' and was a little surprised when we rolled up onto a small grass field surrounded by a wrought iron fence. I was expecting more of a tourist trap rather than the several simple houses that still seemed to be from the 1600s. However, just the sight of them did leave me thinking about what Rowena would think of all this.

"Should we go in now or wait until dark?" I asked, putting the car into park in front of the locked gate.

It was smaller than I thought it would be. Nothing taller than my waist at the highest spots. At least that would make them easy to jump. I got out of the car without waiting for Ketch to respond and stepped over to the fence. I placed my hands on my hips as I read over the white sign that sat in front of the gate.

The Burying Point

1637

The Oldest Burying Ground in the City of Salem

"I would suggest waiting until dark," Ketch said from behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him as I heard his boots crunch across the ground. He still looked groggy, though I couldn't blame him. More than twenty hours in a car will do that to you, even if you sleep through some of it. "We don't know how touristy this place will be."

"We can come back when it opens. We'll need to find the grave anyway. It probably won't be marked. I tried looking for hints for hours online and couldn't find anything other than it's supposedly here. I did see something about a monument though." I shrugged.

Ketch nodded and yawned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I smiled at the casual approach he had taken to our hunt away from home. As much as I would always love the suits, there was something about seeing him in nothing more than jeans, a loose t-shirt, and a lightweather jacket that would always make me love him more. His grey eyes studied me as I looked at him, narrowing slightly, and I knew I had been staring for too long. I just smiled more.

"We can find somewhere to stay. Wait until it warms up a little and come back." I stepped back to him and slid my arms under his jacket, hugging close to him and laying my cheek against his chest. "That way you can get something to eat and relax for a bit. Sound good?"

His hum of agreement fumbled through him as I listened to his heart.

I stepped carefully along the pathway that wound through the headstones of the small graveyard as tourists bustled around, all chatting happily about witches. I looked around at a couple who was taking pictures next to one of the older graves which was now encased in glass to keep it safer. It made me wish I had brought Ketch with me after all. But the drive had just worn him out, so I had decided to leave him be and let the man sleep. For all I knew it could be the best sleep he's had in a while, and I wasn't going to deprive him of it. Plus it's not like finding the grave was going to be hard. There weren't too many here that it could be, and I had already located the monument.

I walked through another row and finally came to a stop just on the other side of the statue. There was a headstone, but it was far too worn by the weather to read anything on it. But that wasn't what had caught my eye in the first place. No, what had caught my attention, was the perfect circle of dead earth around the grave itself. Unholy ground. There was no clearer sign that this was her. 

I had only ever seen unholy ground a few times, but Dean had explained what it looked like from his experiences in detail. It was one of his proudest moments where he had been right and Sam had been wrong. Dean had been more than happy to take advantage of such a rare opportunity.

I looked around again at the people walking through the sight, none of them seeming to care much about what was under my feet. It was just another grave to them, not some massive mess of supernatural that I was going to dig up later.

And now, all that was left to do was wait for the sun to set so we could start digging. And even though I was sure it would be Ketch doing most of the digging, I had packed two shovels. I was determined to help a little, even if he tried to stop me. He should know better by now. It wouldn't be the first time I had dug up a grave while something was physically wrong with me. I had gone grave robbing with a broken arm, and fractured ribs, with open and bleeding wounds, some of which were larger than what was considered safe by most people. A baby was nothing that was going to stop me.

I studied the grave and its position in the graveyard a little longer before heading back to my car and the hotel we had found to stay in. Ketch had argued to stay in nothing less than a small suite, so I felt more than out of place walking into a room that easily looked like it cost double my childhood home. 

The room itself reminded me of when I rescued Elly from Vegas. Large, expensive, white, an almost pointless sitting room, and came with a piano. Though this room didn't have a piano, it did come with a fully stocked bar. I guess that made up for the lack of musical instruments. 

I could hear the shower running from the master bathroom across from the bedroom, so I flopped onto the couch, turned the large TV on, and flipped through the channels. I didn't pay much attention to anything that came across the screen, there was too much to think about that no amount of cheesy horror movies could distract me from. So much to figure out still. And the biggest one was still the kid. And that reminded me that I hadn't heard from Rowena in a while.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and found her number easily. I put the phone to my ear and barely had to wait for a full ring before she answered. She didn't even give me room to say hello before talking.

"No, I do not have an answer yet." She scoffed on the other end. "Do you Winchesters ever just call to say hello? You always need something when you call."

"I'm sorry Rowena," I answered with a soft smile. "How are you?"

"I'm a wee bit stressed to tell you the truth darling." She sighed.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, lowering the volume of the slasher film now playing.

"Just some more people after that book than expected. They keep coming at me as if I'm going to have it or know where the bloody thing is." Rowena used the dramatically distressed voice I was so used to hearing when she wanted attention and simply smiled.

"Well, you are the most powerful witch currently." I complimented her. "Why would they not think you had a book of dark, life-extending magic?"

"I would not touch that book with a ten-foot pole." She almost sounded disgusted. "Nothing good could come from it. Why on Earth do you want to find it?"

I shrugged, knowing she couldn't see me and knowing the real answer would upset her. "Just a bit of light reading."

"You truthfully are horrible." Rowena shot at me, though I could imagine she had a smile on her face as well.

"I want to keep it safe. I'm not planning on screwing with dark magic." I pulled at a loose thread on the pillow next to me. "So, nothing for Ally yet?"

"I have poured over my book for days. I have read every page at least three times, if not more." Rowena sighed heavily again. "I can't find anything to help her. You just need to keep her in check. That is my best advice."

"We'll figure something out." I sighed. "We always do. I just have to come up with a way to tell Elly."

"She doesn't know?" The witch seemed shocked. I honestly thought she'd known us well enough now to know none of us would tell her right away. "Shouldn't she be helping you look? She would move the moon for that girl. You need to tell her."

I grimaced. "I know. I know." I rubbed at my temples as a small headache wound its way around them. "But how do I tell her that her daughter is all but fucked because of me? It's all my fault, Rowena."

"A lot of things are your fault, dearie."

A warm hand took my shoulder and I leaned back against the couch to look up at Ketch. A kind smile crossed his face, his hair loose and still damp from the shower, and it looked like he hadn't found a shirt yet. I returned his smile half-heartedly and he exchanged the look for one of concern as he came around to sit next to me. I kicked off my shoes and tucked my legs up onto the couch as I leaned into him. He was so warm.

"Thank you for looking for me," I muttered to Rowena, relaxing into Ketch as one of his hands rubbed my collar.

"You're welcome. I'll keep an eye out for the book." She sounded sincere at least. "Until then."

The line disconnected without another word and I tossed my phone gently onto the coffee table.

"I found the grave," I told Ketch.

"That's a start." He said, pulling me closer. "I take it that she doesn't know what's wrong?"

"You would be correct," I said, closing my eyes.

"I'll have some resources look into it." He said, his free hand now playing with my hair.

"Ok."

It had taken some convincing, but Ketcj was finally letting me help. And by help, he meant I could hold the flashlight so he could see where to dig. I rolled my eyes as my offers to pick up a shovel were denied for the umpteenth time. But I guess he wouldn't need much help now anyway, not with the loud clunk that came from the grave as he hit something.

I stepped closer to the edge and could just make out an old wooden coffin as Ketch used the shovel to scrape more dirt from the top of it. I jumped into the hold, shoving my flashlight into my pocket before taking one side of the coffin and helping Ketch lift it out of the grave. Ketch got out of the grave first once we had the casket over the edge, and then extended his hand to help me out of the six-foot hole.

Then it was his turn to use the flashlight. He pointed the light over the box and I pushed the lid open. With a heavy sigh, I stepped back and looked into it. Empty. It was fucking empty. No body. No book. I honestly couldn't say I was too surprised. With all of the rest of the graveyards being empty, why would this one have been any different? And if she hadn't died anyway, then there wouldn't be anything here regardless.

"Well, this was a waste," I muttered.

"At least we know the book isn't here." Ketch agreed with a shrug. "I'll start burying it back up."

I opened my mouth to offer my help, but the words never found my tongue before the world turned black.

The pounding ache in my head is what woke me. But when I opened my eyes, I was briefly overwhelmed by the thought I had gone blind. Nothing but pitch black, sickening darkness met my senses as I tried to determine where I was and what had happened.

I tried to stretch out, pushing my hands up, and dread shot through me when they met nothing but rough wooden boards. My breath caught in my throat as tight panic threatened to constrict my chest. I was in a box. Fuck that. I was trapped in a grave. The walls of the box around me were no further than a few inches on any side. 

I closed my eyes and lowered my hands back to my sides, now focusing on steadying my breath so I didn't run out of air. If they had buried me, like I thought they had, every second of air was going to count. I would not die due to suffocation from hyperventilating. 

My hands blindly searched my sides for my pockets, and I sighed in relief when I could still find the flashlight. I pulled it from the pocket carefully and turned it on, blinded by the light for a second, but welcoming that I wasn't blind. Old, rotting, and splintered wood greeted me inches from my face. And between the cracks of the boards, I could see dark brown dirt.

I licked my lips and exhaled deeply. I knew how to get out of this. I had been taught how. As well as Sam and Dean had. The memory of being buried alive on the same day I had started to die would always be bright in my mind. John had thought of it as a training tactic. I could still remember the first time Sam had crawled out, bawling and terrified.

And I could remember Dean explaining the panic he had gone through as he'd laid in the coffin his father had built for him, the lid nailed closed as he watched from inside. When we had practiced together on our own, Dean never buried me deeply. But John had always buried us the full six feet. Sam had mentioned more than once that Dean had been claustrophobic ever since. Sam could remember waiting in the car and just barely being able to hear Dean cry out. And sometimes, if he panicked enough, John would unbury Dean. But I knew that most of the time, those moments were few and far between.

I had hated it. Swore I would never practice for this again after the last time. I had been so young, only eleven when John deemed it was time for me to start training with Dean. I didn't understand how to push past the anxiety attack that had hit me. That came years later. But now, though I still loathed the man who taught us, I was grateful for remembering every detail of it. I knew how to get out of here.

'Does Ketch?'

I had to leave that thought behind for now. If I didn't get out, there would be no helping him if he didn't, if he was even buried in a grave at all. I had to get out, to be the one who could be the help or get some.

The ever-consuming darkness overtook me again as I turned the flashlight off again and tucked it back into a pants pocket. I did my best then to list my backup and shimmy out of the flannel I had been wearing and pull it over my face.

My fingers trembled as they buttoned the shirt up to the very top, the collar tight at the top. I tied the sleeves as tight as I could around my neck without cutting off any air I could breathe. It came out in short hot gasps against the fabric, but it would be better than suffocating against the cascade of dirt that was to come.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes tighter, and kicked hard up into the wood. I could just hear it splinter and crack before I could feel the dirt fall onto my legs. I did my best to shit on top of it. If I wasn't careful, it would pin me here.

I kicked again, this time feeling the wood give way. Dirt poured over me and I quickly tried to shove away any that landed on my face down towards my legs. And luckily, it hadn't started to rain and the dirt was still loose.

My hands reached out blindly until I found a board of the coffin and pushed at it, creating enough room for me to sit up before more sliding dirt fell into my lap. It crashed against my chest, trying to crush me before I had a chance to escape. This is what I would always dread the most. I could remember the time when my arm had gotten trapped and I couldn't move. I had ended up wrenching it from the socket to get free. I had broken several ribs in that run as well. I was hoping this time, I would be better. I just needed to stay calm. But that was always hard when it felt like there was a cow on your chest.

'I can do this. It's six feet. If I can get upright and find a hold for my foot, I can push myself out.'

The thought was comforting as the dirt shifted enough around me that I could pull my arms above my head. I did my best to use it to my advantage. I could pull the dirt down with my hands and pack it enough to pull up until I was standing. Angling the right way was painful, and a suddenly sharp pain in my side was unnerving. Had I already cracked a rib? Shit. That wouldn't be good. None of this was good.

'Get ahold of yourself. You're a fucking Winchester. You are not going to die in someone else's fucking grave!'

I had to stay calm. I needed to stay calm. I was upright. That was a good start. I could do this. I reached up again as far as I could, my heart jumping in my chest when cool night air licked my fingers. It was right there. So close. So fucking close.

I lifted my foot as much as I could, searching for something, anything, one, this was more like trying to swim through dirt than climbing it. But the cold that teased my fingers was enough to keep me sane. Enough to let me know this could work. God, I wanted it to work.

I pushed aimlessly against the dirt at my feet, scrambling to get up to my elbows freed. When I had accomplished that, I reached around sightlessly for something to grab onto. My hands graced the edge of the grave, ground that was more compact and where grasses grew. It was enough for me to take handfuls of it and pull. It was slow work and my arms burned with the effort, but when the cold air finally blew through the fabric draped over my face, I cried out.

Tears poured down my cheeks as I struggled to free the rest of my body from the ground that wanted to pull me back down. Once I was free, worshiping the solid ground, I tore the fabric from my head, not caring about the buttons that popped off. I tossed it aside, greedily gulping air as the wind dried the tears on my face.

I could panic now. I could cry more if I wanted to. This moment was mine. The pain and dread were mine and I could own and explore them for a minute. I could sob uncontrollably as I gasped for more air as my lungs burned for it.

My hands clenched and unclenched in the grass, trying to convince myself that I was once again anchored to something solid. Something that wasn't going to swallow me whole. I wasn't sure how long it took, but I finally had full control again. I could breathe. I could think.

I glanced up and around at the now empty and quiet graveyard. There was no trace of our attacks. Nothing was out of place, as if the world hadn't noticed that we had gone missing. We…

"Arthur." I gasped out, stumbling to my feet.

I groaned as my ribs protested, crying out as I moved. But I didn't care. I looked around and could see no other graves that had been disturbed. I dug into my pockets until I found my phone, its screen cracked and caked in dirt. I wiped it clean enough to see and dialed his number, my heart once again pounding in my chest.

"Pick up," I whispered. "Pick up, pick up, pick up." 

I stilled as the muffled sound of his ringtone came from the grave I had been in, and my heart sank. He was down there, still down there. But where. There hadn't been room for another person in the coffin I was…

Fuck.

I couldn't find the shovels anywhere, but my car was still where we had left it and I knew there would be a spare in the trunk. Thank having two brothers for the reminder to always have three of most things. 

I sprinted back to the grave, one hand clutching my side and the other the shovel. Nausea made my head spin and I fought with it to keep to contents of my stomach down. Each breath. Each movement was excruciating but I didn't dare stop. There was something in me that refused to stop. The same thing that would do anything to protect him. To save him.

I moaned as the shovel slipped from my hands and smacked into my side. I dropped to my knees in the dirt, coughing. This wasn't fair. I wiped at the tears that filled my eyes and did my best to blink the rest away as I started to dig with my hands.

And when it was there, when I could see the splintered wood of the coffin I had been in, my fingers clawed through it faster. I ripped up the boards, tossing them aside with reckless abandon until I was greeted by the bottom of the coffin.

My fingers bled as they scraped against the wood and I did my best to gain a hold on it. I pulled boards upward, pushing the rest of the coffin aside, crying out again as I saw his hand limp on top of the dirt.

"Arthur!" I called out again.

I used my hands to carve the dirt away from him carefully and quickly. When I finally found his face, I started to cry again. I dug around his face until his head was free. But nothing changed. There was no breath of life, or change in his face. I shoved my hand under his nose and relief flooded over me as I could just barely feel his breath on my skin. He was still breathing, but undoubtedly hurt. There had been so much weight on top of him, so much more than had been above me. And his head looked like it had been bleeding.

I kept digging until his arms were free, or at least close enough for me to slip underneath them and try to pull him free. My joints and broken bones screamed with the effort. But I kept going. Kept digging and freeing him until he was out. Then I collapsed on the ground next to him, utterly exhausted. I couldn't will my body to move anymore. And every breath felt like knives digging into me as my ribs screamed.

I fished for my phone, my body protesting even that, and paused when I had it free. Who was I even going to call? I couldn't call for an ambulance, they would ask too many questions. The graveyard hadn't had cameras, we had checked, but that wouldn't stop law enforcement from being involved. And we needed help now. I knew I would heal on my own well enough, but Arthur was human. He was so…mortal. I wouldn't leave him like this. I refused to and I knew better than to try on my own after the last time.

My hands shook as I dialed the number and placed the phone to my ear, but it only continued to ring and ring and ring. I cursed the angel as it went to voicemail and didn't bother leaving one before trying another. This time it rang twice before there was an answer.

"What's up, Alex?" Ally asked, her voice sweet and nonchalant.

"Help," It was barely a gravelly whisper. "The Burying Point in Salem."

"I…I don't know what that looks like." She muttered, her voice now full of worry. 

"Google it." I breathed.

"I can get my dad…"

"No." I pushed the order through my ragged throat. "He won't help. Please, Cael wouldn't answer."

"Cas is…"

"Ally…Ketch and I are hurt. Please, help." I begged now, too tired to try and demand any more from her. "Please."

"O…ok. I'll try."

I couldn't think to say anything more, so I hung up, my arm dropping away from my head and back to the dirt underneath us. My breathing was shallow as I closed my eyes.

I didn't open them when I felt the strong beat of wind across my face and heard the soft flutter of wings. But I did manage a smile. 

"Hey, kid," I muttered. "Help Arthur first."

There was no answer, but I could feel the heat radiating from her healing grace, even with closed eyes. I jumped as a hand took my arm and that warm healing filled me too. It took every ache and pain, even burn and knot, and made me whole again. I released a breath I hadn't known I had been holding and relaxed back into the dirt, sleep gripping me tightly now.

I was nearly unconscious when those same hands scooped me up off the ground. This wasn't Ally, but at the moment, I couldn't bring myself to care. They were warm, gentle, and safe.

I blinked in the warm stream of sunlight that lay across my face. I turned my neck carefully, registering not only the ceiling but the walls of the hotel room we had been staying in. I closed my eyes again as I faced towards the window it streamed through, it was high enough to be past morning. How long had I been out?

"There's something wrong with you, ya know." His familiar voice wasn't snide, but rather gentle. I sat up to find him in the room and groaned with effort as the soft sheets shifted under me. "You shouldn't be this badly injured from something so minor."

"Lucifer?" I questioned once I could lay eyes on him as if his voice alone wasn't enough to convince me he was real.

The archangel didn't answer, he didn't even look over at me. He seemed so…right where he sat across the room in a chair. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, the light streaming over his lap as he leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. He was studying the sun like I had been.

"Please don't ask my daughter to sneak out of the house at three in the morning." He chided softly. "Especially to use her grace. I'm not stupid, you know that better than most. I can see it fading."

"Did you tell Elly?" That was my only concern now if he knew.

Lucifer snorted and finally looked at me, his blue eyes holding something I wasn't quite sure was meant for me. He almost looked worried. "She doesn't need to know yet. If there is one thing I have learned about humans, it's that you have to hold some information from them until the right time. As strong as she is, I can't just drop something like that on Elizabeth."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, his eyes roaming me as I continued to stare at him.

"Why are you here?" I finally asked.

It was quiet again for a moment before he finally sighed.

"I will not keep being the bad guy. I've lived that story for long enough. Ever since the beginning. I want to be better than the hot-headed, hurt fallen angel. The whole fucking world is against me. Who am I if even my perfect vessel is against me?" Lucifer paused after that. Seeming to be in thought again. "He hasn't woken up yet. He was worse off than you, almost completely crushed. I'm surprised he made it with how many of his bones I had to reconstruct." He motioned next to me.

I looked where he pointed and nearly jumped to my knees to get closer to a very unconscious Ketch. He was still covered in dirt. But even through it all, I could see the new scars, the bruises, and smaller cuts that wouldn't have been worth healing. I reached for him but stopped when I realized just how covered in dirt my own hands still were.

"What did you two do to get so banged up?" Lucifer asked.

"We dug up a grave," I said softly, placing a gentle hand against Ketch' cheek, pushing away some of the dirt. "And then got put in it."

"So what's wrong with you? You're a demon." He scoffed. "You shouldn't bleed like some human anymore."

"I don't know. I've been like this since…" I bit my lip. He didn't need to know. He would make fun of me, or try to fight me. Maybe he would kill me. 

I could feel his eyes rake over me curiously. "Since what, doll?"

"It's none of your business." I hissed at him.

"Fine. I'm sure Elizabeth will tell me if I ask." I could hear his eyes roll.

I laughed bitterly. "No, she wouldn't."

"Maybe. You can't just torture her for information, but if you know the right buttons to push, she sings like a damn bird." I felt his hand on my shoulder before I had registered to hear him stand. "Clean up. I'll check on your baby daddy and make sure he's still doing alright."

I froze at the horrible title. Did he know? Had Elly told him anyway? I was sure she wouldn't have. There was no way. But he could know. I'm sure for an angel it wouldn't be hard to tell. My thoughts followed me as I stood almost robotically from the bed and went to the bathroom to shower. It was still shocking to see just how much first cascaded down the drain, despite knowing I had crawled through six feet of it.

I found new clothes set out on the sink counter once I was finished. They were kind on the skin that was now scrubbed near raw. The bedroom hadn't changed much when I stepped back into it. Lucifer now sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling on his phone. And Ketch still lay out cold. I took a seat next to Lucifer. He gave me a gentle smile as I looked at him.

"She didn't tell me." He said before I could ask. It was all I could do not to break down and admit everything to him. All of my insecurities and fears. It had always been easy to tell him, it's what had made me almost give in years ago. "When are you due?"

"I'm not sure. Crowley thinks it'll grow faster than a human child." I answered. I lowered my head into my hands.

Lucifer snickered. "So you are pregnant." I frowned. He hadn't known and I had just foolishly given it away. "I had my suspicions, but you just blew it wide open, doll."

"Fuck you." I hissed. "You really are a piece of shit, you know that?"

"Devil." He pointed at himself as I looked back up. "It's kind of in the job description." I rolled my eyes. "So half demon, huh? Do you think they'll see hooves and horns on an ultrasound? I guess unless you had some fun in Hell. It is tempting sometimes. Had my morals corrupted more than once."

"You don't have any morals." I groaned softly.

"You'd be surprised. No one seems to care." His smile was teasing now, but still light. "So half demon?"

I nodded and sighed. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Thought you were barren, doll. That was one of the perks."

I shot him a glare that would've killed Abbadon. "Crowley seemed to find it funny to fix every part of me."

Lucifer wrinkled his nose in dislike. "He always was a bastard. Used to know him before he was a crossroads demon."

"What do you mean before?" I was curious now.

"When it was just angels. Before humans."

"If I remember correctly." I snorted. "You no longer carry the title of an angel."

"Why is Elizabeth the only human who cares to try and understand?" Lucifer genuinely sounded hurt for a second. I bit my lip, unsure if I had offended him or not. Maybe he was just misunderstood. Lucifer sighed and moved on. "Have you ever noticed that Crowley snaps when he uses his powers? Demons don't snap, doll."

"I snap." I pointed out.

"But where'd you learn it from?" He pushed. "Him."

I looked at him for more as he sat there, waiting for me to grasp something I couldn't see yet.

"Wow. You are thick. I knew pregnancy brain was a thing but this is ridiculous." I rolled my eyes again. "He was an angel."

I blinked several times as I searched his face for the lie. But there was no tell in his face. "How did he end up a demon?"

"Some angels were tasked with being sent down as humans to report back when they died." He explained. "Mostly because Dad isn't always there or very caring. Crowley sold his soul as a human, so now he's in Hell."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because maybe he would know how to help my kid." He shrugged. "If his angelic soul was sold away…"

"I don't think so." I interrupted, my voice hesitant.

"He'd do anything for you. Already proven that by what you are now and all the cat lives, doll." Lucifer shrugged again. 

"Don't call me…"

"Please." It wasn't quite a beg, but it was still unusual to hear the word come from his mouth. Even if I didn't care for him, if everything we had ever done had been some weird power struggle, he still cared so deeply for them that he would ask this of me. And it was something I would never fault him for. 

"I'll see what I can do," I answered honestly.

Lucifer's eyes lit up a little more with that. He nodded and looked like he was going to say more, but a soft groan from Ketch had us both looking over at him. He hadn't moved much, and after another beat of silence, my eyes returned to his.

"When do you two plan on getting married?" My turn to ask questions.

Lucifer shrugged and slumped back to lean against his elbows. "It's just for her. So whenever she would like."

"Do you want to get married?"

"It doesn't matter to me either way. As long as Elizabeth is happy and I get to have her for the rest of her life, that is all that matters to me." He smiled a little and looked to the ceiling. "Plus, it's a little silly for an angel to get married. Let me go tell Dad, who doesn't care, that I'm getting married."

We sat silently as I thought about what he said. "Her life?"

"She's human, Alex. Just like Ketch." His point made my chest ache. "Even if we went back home, which we will, I would still be alive long after she died."

"You won't have grace in…"

"I still have grace." He stated. "I would just slowly run out again."

I frowned. He was right. So maybe I shouldn't stay with Ketch. What would I do after he eventually died? I would just be alone again.

Lucifer sighed. "She's already older. How much do you think I've aged? I don't think I look a day over twenty-five. She's nearly forty." He ran a lazy hand through his hair. "I just want her to be happy. I love her too much for her to be sad for another minute. And even if we only had another day, or week, or even a hundred years, I will spend every moment for her."

My head tilted to the side with more questions for the fallen angel. "You're so poetic when you want to be." Lucifer chuckled softly. For the first time, I felt like he was right for her. He only lived for them. "Were you anything like the bible said you were?"

He looked taken aback as I asked. "Only Elizabeth has ever dared to ask that."

"Well. Maybe she was right too." I placed a gentle hand on his knee and waited.

"It was written from all of Chuck's experiences, even if it says it was written by other people." Lucifer shifted on the bed. "So of course I was the problem child. It comes with being one of the oldest. But I don't feel anything like what he wrote about me. I still did what Dad asked most of the time. And I wanted so badly to go back home. What do you think Hell was like in the beginning? I was alone. For thousands of years."

"How old were you when you fell?" I could tell it was a sensitive question when he winced.

"Seventeen." It was almost a whisper.

My eyebrows furrowed. "Seventeen thousand…

"No." He corrected. "Seventeen. One, seven. No zeros. Not yet."

I was silent for a long moment, letting it sink in. I had been a child. And he had been shunned away as if he were in timeout for a millennia. He had to learn everything himself. No wonder he acted so much like a child sometimes. He had never been given a chance to grow up.

"Why did you tempt them in the garden?" I asked next.

"God asked me to." He shrugged. "Said he was bored and needed the world to move faster. Something about how they wouldn't do it themselves."

"You have serious daddy issues." I snorted a laugh without thinking. Lucifer's face fell into something I couldn't quite translate. "I'm sorry. I would have done anything for my dad too."

"John?"

"Oh hell no." I shook my head. "I don't consider him my father at all. More of an abusive alcoholic uncle."

"Then why take his name?" Ouch.

I pursed my lips. No one had ever asked me why before. Not even Elly had questioned it when I had introduced myself to her. Or at least she had never mentioned questioning it to me.

"Winchester means something in this world. Who would be scared of a Nelson or a Smith? Would a Jackson bring hope?" I shook my head again. "Winchester holds a weight behind it amongst hunters."

"Will Ketch?" Asking the hard questions today huh?

"Of course," I answered, smiling as I glanced back at the man behind us. "He might as well be the John Wick of this world for all I care."

"John Wick?" Lucifer asked.

"Ya. I don't know much about them. Some movie series ELly loved." I shrugged.

"Oh!" Lucifer nodded in understanding then. "She's more action than RomCom."

"Are you the RomCom?" I teased.

He smiled at me. "I don't watch a lot of TV. Too busy working or spending time with Ally."

He really had become so close to human, hadn't he? Taken to being a family man rather than the king of Hell. Seemed like he had tried to do better with them than he had with Jack. It made me smile back at him.

"Alex?"

I nearly started to cry again as my name came so softly from Ketch' lips.