Chapter Text
Mephistopheles passed a handful of blueprints to Tom with a nod of acknowledgement, doing his best to ignore the never-ending sounds of construction mingling with the screams of the damned.
He turned, and obedient as always, the door to his office waited right at his elbow. He stepped inside, realizing that he wasn’t alone before he even saw Her. Her scent, like the beating heart of a neutron star and the cool recesses of the vast cosmos, was one he would always know, no matter how he tried to forget it. It filled all his senses, blotting out everything but Her.
“Hello, Providence,” he sighed wearily, rubbing his temple with two fingers before turning to face the office.
She was in his chair, all sleek grace and power, even at rest. Her suit, a white so pure it made even his office look gray and dingy against it, was perfectly creased and neat. She made him feel untidy just by being in the same realm. He hated it, and really, hadn’t she always been the messy one, strewing her creations left, right, and sideways?
Mephistopheles beat the feeling down, along with all the other things he kept carefully hidden beneath the surface. He would not allow her to fluster him. Not again. Putting on an urbane smile, he asked, “And what is it that brings you into my domain? Do forgive the mess, we’re under renovation.”
Providence rose with feline grace, smile warm and lighting up her face. “So formal?” She chuckled pleasantly. “I thought we had gotten past this.”
“I still remember my manners, even when surrounded by the pits and those that inhabit them,” Mephistopheles said coolly. He did not wish to get into this argument again; once in a star’s lifetime was more than often enough for his tastes. “To what do I owe the honor? The last time you visited my realm was... never, I believe.”
She actually winced at that one and Mephistopheles felt a momentary triumph that was immediately leavened by regret. It left him feeling worn and oh-so-weary. There were reasons they so seldom interacted.
“I deserved that,” Providence admitted, leaving him stunned. “I tend to let my anger get the better of me, and unfortunately, you tend to bear the brunt of it. All too often.”
It sounded like she was going to tender an apology, and that was the last thing he wanted from her. An apology would only make it harder to—
Mephistopheles cut that thought off abruptly. “So on to business then,” he forced a brisk tone. “To what do I owe your presence here?”
Her face saddened and she sighed, for a moment looking as weary as he felt. She sat down on the corner of his desk, crossing those endless legs and resting her hands on her knees. “I saw what you did.”
“Oh?” he inquired archly. “I’ve done a lot of things. I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t feel it when you meddled with the human concept of time?” Her eyes, fathomless as the void between galaxies, were predatory, as was the smile that graced her lips.
Ah, so that was what had brought her, then. He should have known.
Mephistopheles shrugged it off, carefully not looking at her. “Your point? Human concepts are particularly malleable things by nature.”
With no intervening steps, she was suddenly in his face, one fingertip under his chin, forcing him to lift his eyes to her. “It was a good thing, ‘Pheles.”
Her touch held him immobile, but he managed to turn his gaze away, finally able to find words. “Don’t call me that.”
She released him, but still stood so close he could feel her, like starlight prickling across his skin. “It was,” She asserted, tone warm and amused.
Mephistopheles turned away, smoothing down his lapels. “Ah, yes, the saving of young Mr. Combs, because the saving of someone is yours.” He scoffed. “How careless of me to forget.”
Her gaze darkened momentarily and a frown pulled down the corners of her mouth.
“Oh, what will I do with you?” She breathed wearily. “Nothing is exclusively mine or yours. Even here, I linger, as you do in my realm.”
“If not for my interfering in something of yours, what is it you want?” He tried not to sound bitter, but it was hard and growing harder. It was like this whenever they were together.
Providence sighed, rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “Must we go through this again? Everything I have, everything I created, I would willingly share. It is as much yours as it is mine. Every wrong that is blamed on you falls on me as well, because I crafted those, too.”
“As you said, this is an old argument and one that needs no rehashing.” Mephistopheles shook his head. “Sufficive to say, I meddled in something, and you took exception to it.”
“No,” Her tone was sharp enough to wound. “No.” Providence softened her voice. “I was happy. Do you know how happy that one simple act made me? How very much joy it gave me?”
Mephistopheles ignored the questions. He refused to look at her, not knowing what he would see in her immeasurably deep eyes and afraid of what he might.
“Perhaps there is one thing of mine, you did not realize you shared.” She breathed quietly.
“Enough of this. Unless you have a point.”
“Forgiveness is mine.” Her lips were a brand of icy fire on his cheek.
He turned but she was gone. Her voice lingered in the echoing void made by her absence. “And you had that long ago.”
Mephistopheles could only stand there, unmoving, a hand to the cheek Providence had kissed.