AU/PSLs/Others

The sun is shining, the birds are singing and over the phones and in their brain Lucifer is chatting away. That time of the month, torture, teaching responsibility, yada-yada. Although to his credit, Lucifer's been trying for less harsh ones now that he's told God to kick the curb but he does have to do his job. And he sounds particularly amused this time.

But Nekane is warm, comfortable and content to ignore the bullshit until said bullshit ends up at their doorstep. And until then, they roll over in bed and try to go back to sleep. They finally fixed their damn sleeping schedule and like hell they're going to let it go out of control again.

Not after Héctor helped them for so long.

There's something in their arms though and it's keeping them awake. For a moment they think it's Héctor and that'd be fine but it's...far too small to be Héctor. Way too small.

So they crack one eye open. Pause. Open the other eye and blinks.

Before promptly screaming.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

There's....why is there a kid??? Here????

[One would think that Nekane would learn not to go drinking on particular nights that may be an interest to the local cult. After the first time it happened they did look into all of the mystical bullshit days of the years just to make sure some chucklefuck didn't get it into their heads to try and sacrifice them to whatever "God" said chucklefucks had in mind.

Again.

But while the detective did do the work into looking into those kinds of days, they missed one: Walpurgisnacht. So into the trunk of a car yet again does Nekane go, with all of the loud cursing to go along with it.

They don't really remember the whole ritual. When it became obvious that Nekane was not going quietly, something was jabbed into their neck to knock them out completely.

Which is why they're somewhere on the ground when the whole thing is over. There's a terrible sort of shift in their shadows, like the feeling someone might get after walking through a spiderweb, but they're more focused on trying to peel themself off of the ground.]

God fucking...I hate cults. I really fucking hate cults and the jackasses who think that some fucking asshole God will answer the damn phone if--

[They go on for a little longer, at least until it becomes impossible for them to ignore the elephant in the room.]

...alright, that's enough of that shit. Come out already.