betterthanaplan | Aboard the OceaNyx, Wednesday afternoon

Fandom chaos was by now the actual least of Octavia's worries. It hurt worse, every day, to watch Duke struggle.

She was bringing over a glass of fresh orange juice. Kind of grasping at things to do for him, anything that would make him feel even a little better.

"I've got juice, jaka."

Lucifer poked his head out of the cabin, worry writ large on his face. "I'm working on something with sugar in it," he promised.

Duke let out a chuckle that ended in a cough. "Two mother hens," he said, wry and dry. "How'd I get so lucky?"

"I'm not a hen," Octavia objected, trying for a wry tone just to mirror him. "I just have juice for you."

"It's a metaphor," Lucifer sighed. He frowned, stepping a little closer so he could get a good look at Duke. "Or carbs, perhaps? I can get you some bread."

"I'm not --" Duke broke off to swallow a groan. His head was pounding. "Not sure I could keep anything down right now."

That wasn't quite it. He wasn't sure he could fit anything in him around the troubles beating against his insides.

Something warm and wet pressed itself out through his tear ducts. Something warm, wet, and red.

Oh no.

Octavia's eyes went wide. "Duke, your eyes --"

"Duke!"

And now Lucifer was walking a whole lot faster, dropping to his knees in front of him. "Octavia? Do you have a tissue or something--?"

“Fuck.” Duke bent at the waist, hand shaking as he reached for his eye. A drop of blood escaped before he could swipe at it, hitting the deck by his foot.

And vanishing.

Octavia felt paralyzed. There was nothing she could do.

(Again.)

"This happened at the lighthouse," she said, with a tremor in her voice. "Right before --"

"Right before what?" Lucifer asked, reaching up to touch Duke's cheek, like he could just-- make the blood go away somehow.

Duke was staring at the spot where the blood had disappeared. His mind raced. What had just happened? Where did his blood go?

"I'm okay." He blinked. His head wasn't throbbing. The blood still on his face reabsorbed into his skin, but that didn't feel like anything. "I'm. . . ." He laughed a little. "I'm actually okay."

In fact he felt better than he had in days.

He looked at Lucifer.

"Wait, what color are my eyes?"

They were brown. But if Lucifer weren't Lucifer, he wouldn't be okay the moment his skin touched Duke's.

Edited 2024-05-01 18:52 (UTC)

Octavia was still looking wary. Like there was a horrible weight in her gut that hadn't eased up.

At all.

There was a faint sense of... something. Like a tickle. The odd sensation that something should have hurt, but didn't.

Lucifer ignored it. He tilted his head. "Brown," he said. "Just-- your usual colour."

"Right." Duke nodded, his eyes wide. He slowly sat up, moving in that gingerly way that came with having just been in terrible pain and expecting it to come back at any moment. "Okay . . . good, then."

He flexed his hands. Looked around. Tried on a smile and aimed it at Octavia.

"I feel . . . fine."

"Okay," Octavia said. She didn't sound very convinced.

Or convincing. Take your pick.

Lucifer took a step back. He looked at Octavia. "What happened the last time he did that?"

Look, Duke didn't get it, either. But he was pretty sure if he was in denial about something someone would have been stitched up by now, so. . . .

"I don't remember," he said. "I -- Jennifer fell. And I felt like I was -- choking or exploding or something. And then. I was on the beach and I was fine."

The pain had gone away. Like it had just now.

. . . And the stitching had started.

"Shit!" Duke flung himself back, out of Lucifer's hands, coming up short against the gunwale. "Shit shit shit I must have let out a trouble!"

"Yeah," Octavia muttered, "that all happened." So they could see why she'd remained so concerned, right?

Of course, now it was a slightly different shade of concern she was turning towards Duke, at that reaction.

"Snogon, breathe."

Lucifer looked at the door, but nothing outside had changed. "Do you feel anything... Troubly?" he asked. "I'm not seeing anything."

Breathe?? He could end up breathing poisonous gas!

…It was likely they would have noticed by now if he was. Unless paranoia was the trigger.

“Okay, I’m officially freaking out.”

Octavia managed to dig in deep for a softer, more soothing tone.

"Hey, hey, we knew this would happen," she... lied. At no point had she managed to think quite this far when she'd worried about his deteriorating health. "We just need to figure it out."

"What was the last one? Something with sowing, right?" Lucifer said. "... What made that stop?"

“I stopped being in denial,” Duke said. “They’re all about emotional triggers. Which — I can’t figure the trigger out if I don’t even know what the trouble is!”

"One thing at a time," Octavia said, holding on to that soft and even tone for dear life. "That's what we need to figure out, first."

"Well, so far we seem to be afloat, and not on fire or frozen," Lucifer noted.

Duke nodded. “And there’s no horrible snake thing coming out of my throat to eat your organs.”

Look. Nix’s trouble made an impression, okay?

"... No," Octavia agreed. "No, there's not."

But thanks for the extra nightmare fodder.

"That may be the least sexy thing you've ever said to me."

Lucifer... approached Duke again, squinting at him. As if he could see something that way, if he tried.

“Yeah, well. Now maybe you get why I had to kill that guy.”

He’d been dying anyway. Duke wasn’t going to think about that.

“Mostly they’re more subtle than that.”

Octavia only half-got what he was saying, too caught up in the present moment.

She held out the glass of juice towards Duke, in silent offer. For lack of anything more useful to give.

Lucifer sighed. "So we have to loiter around waiting for you to manifest something mad and terrible," he said. "Lovely."

Duke was frustrated and scared and not in the best mood for snark. So he could hopefully be forgiven for snapping.

"So sorry my crisis isn't entertaining enough for you, Luce."

Octavia drew her hand back, since the juice offer didn't seem to go anywhere.

"Guys, it's not the time."

"I don't mean it's not entertaining, I mean that's bloody terrible for everyone involved," Lucifer snapped back. "Including you."

"Then congrats on stating the obvious." Duke shoved his hands into his hair.

He was hurting them. He knew it. But he couldn't seem to stop.

Was Octavia even here?

They were about to find out.

"Hey!" she snapped. "Stop."

Lucifer had been about to say something.

But now he was looking up at her instead, at least?

Duke flinched faintly. “Sorry.”

"We are all scared," Octavia said, not even trying to really keep her tone even. "And sniping at each other doesn't help anything. We're in this together, remember?"

"I was just--" Lucifer sighed. "Yes."

Edited 2024-05-03 19:20 (UTC)

Duke had already said ‘sorry’. So he tugged at his hair and chewed his lower lip and stewed.

Octavia didn't need anyone to say 'sorry' because Octavia didn't need anyone to be sorry.

"I just want us to figure this out," she said, a fraction softer now. "Odds are we'll be right here with a new, unknown trouble more than once, so... We need to figure out a way to find out what it is, and what we can do about it."

Lucifer threw his hands up. "We could start experimenting, I suppose," he said. "Get some kind of emotional response out of him."

“I know what some of them are,” Duke said, thinking aloud. (And not giving that ‘make him emotional’ idea the dignity of a response.) “My dad’s journal had a record of them. If I’d known what I was doing, maybe I could’ve, I dunno, requested an easy one.”

Octavia nodded. More for the fact that they were now approaching this from a better angle than anything else.

"Maybe you can learn?" she offered. She really hoped he could, actually.

Lucifer shrugged. He was already out of suggestions.

“Maybe,” Duke agreed softly. “I hope so.”

He reached for her hand.

Octavia reached hers out to meet his.

And the second it did, it was as if an electric current rushed through her, only worse: a pain so intense it knocked the legs out from underneath her, sending her falling to the floor with a strangled noise.

Along with the glass of juice that she'd still been holding in her other hand a second ago.

Lucifer's eyes widened. "Octavia!" he cried, running to her side in an instant.

Duke jerked his hand back as soon as Octavia reacted, wrapping his arms around his chest, hands in his armpits.

Well. That answered that.

That was the second thing that hit Octavia, right on the heels of the pain:

How this was going to make Duke feel.

"Found the trouble," she said, hoarse and weaker than she wanted to sound. Trying not to sound rattled.

And willing the wetness by her arm to be spilled juice instead of blood from some cut, because she had no idea what had happened to the glass, and could not feel any specific hurt through the full-body ache that lingered past the initial shock.

"Are you all right?" Lucifer said.

His fingers had already settled on the arm she'd held the glass with, searching for any cuts or bruises.

Duke watched them, chewing his lip. Trying not to think about how Lucifer could touch Octavia now and he couldn’t.

"Yeah," Octavia breathed, even though she wasn't sure if she was. She was still on the floor, but now that the ache was slowly dissipating, she moved to try and at least sit up. Desperate to show Duke it wasn't as bad as it had looked.

Of course, she didn't even realize how she was still half-panting from the shock.

On the bright side, while there was probably going to be some bruising, luckily there weren't any cuts.

Lucifer nodded slowly, concern still in his eyes. "I'll... clean up," he said, stretching back up.

He walked to a cabinet to rifle around, to find a dustpan.

She was breathless and shaky and Duke knew how painful Jordan’s trouble had been.

He watched Octavia with a miserable smile.

“Sorry.”

Octavia could probably have used some help sitting up, but she was spinning Lucifer leaving her side into a good thing: yet one more chance to pretend she was fine.

(She didn't look fine, but she made it upright.)

She shook her head, slowly and carefully, meeting Duke's gaze. "You didn't want this."

She was, perhaps, doing too good of a job at playing it off as okay. Because Lucifer hadn't realized she needed the help.

He returned with a dustpan, kneeling down by her side to start sweeping up the shards. "So what do we know about this particular trouble?"

Duke hugged himself tighter, unable to take his eyes off Octavia. Unable to stop thinking about how she’d convulsed before going down, the pain on her face —

No wonder Jordan was always so angry. So bitter.

“Jordan’s trouble,” he said softly. “She was like a human taser. Anyone she touched . . . hurt.”

Octavia was just going to hang out on the floor for as bit, though acting fine was getting to be less and less an act, thankfully.

"That one sentient blood puddle didn't like it either," she added. It was the main thing she'd actually seen in person before, after all.

Until this time.

"And what emotion triggers it?" said Lucifer.

Somehow, he still assumed this stuff all worked by the same rules.

Duke shrugged. It was an extra-awkward movement with his hands so firmly tucked away. “She never got past it.”

"That won't be you," Octavia said. Promised? Said.

"We'll figure it out," Lucifer agreed, stretching up with the dustpan. "There has to be some kind of lever somewhere."

Duke let out a noncommittal hum.

(Audrey had never figured out Nathan's trigger, either.)

"In the meantime . . . guess I'm not sleeping naked anymore."

There wasn't enough room on this boat for them to not share a bed. Not unless he decided to sleep on the deck.

Octavia shook her head. "You can sleep however you like," she said, softly but like she meant it. "I can... figure something out."

There was a lot of that about, wasn't there? Figuring things out.

Lucifer sighed. "Or I could just lay in the middle," he pointed out. "I'm big enough to make a decent barrier."

And Duke's trouble didn't seem to do anything to him.

He was not going to think about that too hard.

That was fine, Duke could do the thinking too much about that for the both of them.

(Lucifer was no longer vulnerable to him. Or was it just because this was a trouble and he wasn't vulnerable to those? Or Lucifer didn't trust him, which made sense, because Duke was a fuck up and maybe he shouldn't be trusted --)

"I can wear pajamas," he said. "I should -- get used to being covered. Just in case."

"Okay," Octavia said, softly, even though it was still pretty clear she wanted to argue.

She just didn't want anyone else to hurt right now.

Lucifer sighed.

"Whatever you feel comfortable with," he said.

Duke barked out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm not sure 'comfortable' is going to happen any time soon."

Or possibly ever.

"Fuck, I want a drink."

At that, Octavia was just going to look to Lucifer.

That was his area, not hers.

Lucifer looked at Duke. Then he looked at Octavia-- looking at him.

"Right, I'll get the scotch," he said, tossed the contents of the dustpan in the trash, and walked towards the liquor cabinet.

"Thanks," Duke said softly. His hands were starting to sweat, but he wasn't about to take them out from under his arms until he had something to put them on that wasn't something he could hurt.

Octavia was watching his hands, too. Or the way she couldn't actually see them.

"I'm all the way over here, jaka," she murmured. (Where 'here' was 'on the floor'.) "It's okay."

"Yeah, 'cause I reached for you and you collapsed." Duke shook his head. "I'm not taking the risk."

"Your hands aren't magically going to fly over here."

"Yeah, 'cause I never . . . instinctively reach for you or anything." Duke stared at the planks between his feet. "I'm dealing, gona. Let me deal."

"Just trying to head whatever this will turn into off at the pass," Octavia replied, but mostly as a mutter under her breath, dropping her gaze.

How optimistic of her.

Duke stared down at his feet some more and hoped Lucifer would hurry up with that scotch.

As if he was summoned, Lucifer reappeared, holding two glasses in one hand and a large bottle of scotch in the other.

He handed Duke one glass without a word.

Octavia wasn't saying anything, either.

Although she looked up just enough to watch Lucifer's hands, now.

Ah. Duke had to untuck his hands now. Or at least one of them.

He took the glass and all but cuddled it. Every line of his body was screaming about holding himself as small and contained as possible.

Lucifer unscrewed the cap on the bottle and poured him two measures of scotch.

Then he poured himself three.

"It's all right," he said. "You can move them near me."

Octavia hadn't expected that to hurt.

She moved to finally get up. Slow, careful -- and decidedly not in Duke's direction. The last thing she needed right now was him flinching away from her.

Duke watched her go. Didn’t uncoil.

“I’m dealing.”

"Not sure you are, darling," Lucifer said, bringing up his own glass for a firm sip.

They could get by amongst themselves, right?

Because Octavia was slipping away right now.

Duke watched her until he couldn’t anymore, then took a bit gulp of scotch.

“It’s a process.”

Lucifer glanced over his shoulder to where Octavia had gone. "And now I suppose we all take this very personally in our own extremely unnecessary ways," he muttered.

“I can’t fucking touch her. So yeah.”

They’d come out to have a good time and were feeling various levels of attacked right now!

The tone definitely got an extremely healthy rise out of Lucifer, so good job, Duke.

"And whose fault is that?" he said flatly.

Duke stared flatly back. “I’m aware.”

Lucifer felt a deeply useful urge to flounce angrily out of the room; to let his anger at Duke rule once again.

He downed the contents of his glass in order to suppress it. Poured himself another one. Downed that too.

Duke watched him, tired in a way that had little to do with how crappy he’d been feeling.

“Go ahead and yell. Might make you feel better.”

"It won't," Lucifer said.

Another pour.

"At this point it would just be needless repetition."

“Because I still think I made the best choice I could, given the circumstances. And you still think I’m an idiot.”

"I don't think you're an idiot. I think you're self-destructive," Lucifer said, raising his drink, "And unreasonably loyal to a place and a people who are happy to let you self-destruct for them."

Edited 2024-05-06 01:17 (UTC)

“Oh, well. I feel much better, then.”

Duke tossed back the rest of his scotch. The burn felt right in a way he didn’t want to look at too closely.

"I've spent the past week convincing Octavia that she isn't worthless just because she didn't manage to tear off enough flesh to convince you not to go through with it," Lucifer said, eyes fixed on Duke, now. "I'm sorry if I'm not an entirely sympathetic audience."

“I haven’t actually asked you to be. And if she asked me, I’d tell her — again — that I made my choice.” He set his glass aside and hugged himself again, looking at the water. “And I’ll figure this out. She doesn’t have to change what she does because of me.”

Duke, you beautiful idiot.

"She's going to regardless," Lucifer pointed out. He looked towards the direction Octavia had gone in, again. "You're just... making her feel like she doesn't get to have any control over this."

“None of us have any control over this!” Duke scowled. “These things are specifically about loss of control. So yeah. I’ll put on pajamas and gloves and sleep on the deck to keep from hurting her, because that’s all I’ve got.”

Or he’ll stick his hands in his armpits. It was symbolic and dumb, but it felt better right now.

Lucifer just looked at him.

"That's what you want to do with the situation," he said. "She wants to do something else. You're not even considering it. That's the minute amount of control we are talking about here."

Oh good. Something to get Duke’s hackles up even further.

“I’ve felt this trouble, Luce. It knocks people out. It could probably kill if I held onto someone long enough. Look what it did just because I reached for her. I don’t want to do that again.”

Duke was nothing if not stubborn. Sometimes that meant sticking to someone trying desperately to push him away. And sometimes it meant pushing away someone who wanted to stick to him.

"Yes, I think you've made it abundantly clear you have no interest in listening to anyone else on this boat," Lucifer said, and downed the contents of his glass again. "Enjoy sleeping on the couch. Physically and metaphorically."

He set the glass down.

Duke sighed and looked back out over the water.

Well. He really couldn’t hurt them with this trouble if they decided they hated him.

Lucifer set the bottle of scotch down, too. He wanted to stalk off, check on Octavia.

He settled his hand on the top of the bottle, and - as Linda had taught him - counted to ten to see if he'd feel otherwise.

"I understand that this is hard, and you are likely feeling like hell," he said.

Duke wanted to say something mean. He bit his tongue and kept watching the water instead.

"We wouldn't be having these disagreements if we didn't care about you," Lucifer continued, after a moment. "Please consider letting us care."

He patted the bottle. He turned for the direction Octavia had gone off in.

Duke swallowed. Watched the water.

This was as close to letting them do that as he could get, just now.

And with that incredibly disappointing response, Lucifer left to check on Octavia.

He would find Octavia sitting on the floor of the ahip's tiny galley.

There was no real reason for the choice. It was just... Away. And probably not Duke's first choice of where to go to, which seemed important right now.

Even without looking up, she knew these particular footsteps weren't his.

"I'm sorry, darling," Lucifer said.

He didn't hesitate; he sat down next to her immediately.

"Guessing you talked to him and it didn't do anything," Octavia muttered, looking at her lap.

"He says none of us have any control over anything," Lucifer said mildly, "While asserting control over literally anything we are actually capable of controlling. Lovely."

Octavia shook her head. "He's scared."

Funny how that didn't actually make her feel any better.

"Well, he could try being scared without locking us out of everything," Lucifer said irritably. "He's not the only one."

Octavia inclined her head just so. Like a very mild 'tell me about it'.

She sighed, her voice going quieter. Still mild, though. "Feels like I'm being punished for getting hurt."

Lucifer let out a breath.

He slid his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure he doesn't mean it like that," he said. "Useless as that is to know."

Octavia was very still for a second.

Then she leaned into it. Deliberately, as if she'd made a choice. "It still feels awful," she muttered.

"I know," Lucifer murmured. "I wanted to fling him into the ocean, frankly."

"To shock the trouble out of him?"

No, she knew it wasn't that. Of course she knew. She was just having a hard time finding a jokey tone.

(Maybe the urge to try anyway had rubbed off on her from Duke.)

"No, because I'm intensely angry at him for myriad reasons," Lucifer fulminated. "I never knew it was possible to love someone this much while wanting to scream at them so loudly at the same time."

Octavia didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't find the energy in herself to be angry, too, but at least a part of her would have preferred it if she had.

It would've been easier. It always had been.

She stayed quiet.

The vehemence in Lucifer's voice abated somewhat. "The least he could do is treat you with more care."

"I'd like that," Octavia muttered, raspy and tired. "But it's too much to ask."

Apparently.

"Because he thinks he's already doing it."

"Yes," Lucifer said irritably. "That would be the part that is making me want to throw him into the ocean. We're apparently just here to be recipients of his decisions."

"Mm," Octavia hummed.

And slid her hand over where she could put it on his knee.

Lucifer looked down.

He put his hand on hers, exhaling loudly.

"I'm sorry I don't have the anger to match you with," Octavia murmured.

And it wasn't even a joke.

"It's all right," Lucifer muttered. "I have plenty for both of us."

Octavia just...

Leaned her head against his shoulder as best she could.

Willing herself to feel less awful in every way.

And in turn, Lucifer tried to will himself to calm down.

It was likely just about as succesful.

Aboard the OceaNyx, Wednesday afternoon

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