Summary: So Sandalphon will wait for Lucifer, no matter how long it takes. And most importantly, he won't do it alone.
(series of connected-but-maybe-not-chronological short stories)
Sandalphon's thoughts
Posted: 11/10/2018
Status: Dropped
Author's note: Not beta'd and will update whenever I feel like it. Title might change if I find a better one...
If you have prompts and/or ideas you'd like to see in this fic, or just wanna talk, feel free to hit me up on social media!
Primal beasts do not die, they merely fall into a very, very deep slumber.
It doesn’t make the crushing loneliness that comes when they fall asleep hurt any less, though.
When you’ve lived as long as Sandalphon, you inevitably forget things, because no living being’s memory is perfect, and he is no exception. He knows he has forgotten many things over his life. The day of his creation. Many of the peaceful days he spent doing nothing but laze around in the sun, waiting for a certain someone. The way the stone of the labs felt, or what most of the Astral scientists looked like, their faces all merging into one in his mind, a blur of unpleasant sensations about all he can remember of them.
He’s also forgotten many of the experiments, but it might just be because he was in so much pain at the time that he had blacked out. Who knows.
Sandalphon has forgotten many things. Some mundane, some very much not. But there is one thing he will never forget.
His legs shake as he sits on the cold tile. Trembling hands slowly reach out to what used to be the brightest being he’s ever seen.
Now, he’s just a head. He wasn’t even allowed his dignity in death, the rest of his body—along with his core, taken away to some horrible place. And yet, as his gentle voice resonates all around him, the last of his power enveloping him like a blanket both comforting and suffocating, he hears no resentment, only endless melancholy and regret.
“What makes the sky blue?”
As Lucifer’s last words pierces through his chest right into his core, Sandalphon weeps.
The rational part of him knows that this is temporary, that Lucifer, wherever he is, slumbers (peacefully, he hopes, he deserves at least that much for what Sandalphon put him through), and that he will eventually come back, for Primal beasts do not die, they merely sleep. Sandalphon knows that.
And yet it hurts all the same.
In a way, it’s because he knows this that it hurts so much. Because one day Lucifer will come back. When a mortal dies, it is definitive. It is sad, because their loved ones will never see them again. But also, eventually, those loved ones will learn to accept that death and move on with their lives, never forgetting the deceased, but accepting that this is final.
But when the ‘deceased’ will inevitably come back, is moving on truly an option? Sandalphon feels like it would be just another betrayal added to the pile. Like he was giving up on Lucifer, who never gave up on him even after his rampage, who patiently waited until Sandalphon felt ready to leave the cocoon he so carefully made just for him in hope of soothing his heart. Who was bested because he was so busy watching over the cradle that he did not sense the looming danger.
So Sandalphon will wait for Lucifer, no matter how long it takes, or how much the both of them may have changed when Lucifer finally wakes. No matter what happens, he will do everything in his power to make sure Lucifer never suffers again from Sandalphon’s own mistakes.
He will wait, but he won’t neglect his duties as the new Supreme Primarch, as Lucifer’s chosen successor. And, most importantly, he won’t do it alone. That, too, is a promise to Lucifer, although he made that one later, after some (read: a lot of) pushing from some people.
He’s grateful for it.