WHO: Joseph Van der Berg WHAT: Attempting a doomed escape WHEN: Sunday WHERE: Lucifer's home WARNINGS: Mentions of torture and drinking out of a toilet. NOTES: Improvising! If this isn't okay, Charlie, let me know. Also feel free to have Lucifer jump in if you want but I don't mind if he doesn't! My idea was the minions are playing with him but feel free to have it be Lucifer instead!
Enough was enough.
It was more than clear by now that no one was coming for Joey. The shape-shifter was right. They didn't care about him. Maybe they didn't even notice he was gone.
He had slept, badly of course, and when the pain of his injuries woke him up, Joey realised that for the first time in however long he had been here, he was alone. No minions were watching him. No Lucifer to try to break his mind. No shape-shifting asshole to take on the faces of people Joey had thought he loved. He was in a room and it was absolutely empty.
Not without a great deal of difficulty and an even greater amount of pain, Joey pulled himself up and he toddled on unsteady feet over to the door. It was open.
It had to be a trick. Joey stuck his head around the door frame, glancing out into the hall to see if he could see anyone coming. He saw nothing. No evil creatures that smelled of sulphur, no fallen angels. No assholes.
Joey stepped outside the room, using the wall for support. He moved down the hallway at a frustratingly slow pace, shambling zombie-style. He was absolutely intent on finding the door out of this place but he was sidetracked when he peered through an open door and caught sight of something beautiful.
There was a bathroom to the side of him and just inside was a sink.
He practically fell into the room, nearing laughing once with relief. The moment he reached the sink he twisted the handle eagerly, his dry tongue squirming in his mouth, crying out for moisture. A small trickle of water burst forth but as Joey leaned down to catch it in his mouth, there was the sound of banging pipes and the water stopped.
"Fuck!" Joey whispered, and then tears rose to his eyes. He wiped at them, frustrated. The pipes had been loud and he was still desperately thirsty. He hoped the sound hadn't given him away.
He turned to the grand bath next, twisting the handle desperately. Nothing. There was something about it that was fishy, but Joseph was too desperate to notice. Instead his eyes fell on the toilet. He lifted the lid and stared at the water inside the bowl. It seemed quite clean, and the water was so damn promising, glittering up at him tauntingly.
Joseph went down to his knees and in three seconds he was decided. He hadn't had anything to drink in days and if it went on too long he would die. And while he wasn't necessarily against that at this point, it was a fucking horrible feeling and it wanted it to stop. And all of a sudden it wasn't toilet water any more. It was just beautiful, refreshing water and he scooped it into his mouth without hesitating again. He couldn't risk flushing the toilet, he just had to drink it.
The first swallow was difficult. His throat rebelled and he very nearly vomited it back up immediately. Instead he leaned against the toilet, breathing hard until he calmed himself and he tried again. That swallow went down better the second time and it felt like the most glorious thing Joey had ever done. Joey let out a soft moan and he scooped handful after handful into his mouth until his starving stomach rebelled. Sated, he leaned his head down for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
He hadn't been stopped. No one had found him. Hope stirred in Joey's chest and he struggled to rise from the bathroom floor. The water helped, but now he felt dizzy and exhausted. He had to keep going. He used the towel rack and pulled himself up, heading back out into the hallway so he could try to find his way out.
Joseph shambled all over the place, his body growing weaker and weaker as he went. When he finally found the front door, he was about to give up and collapse on the floor and wait for them to find him. Adrenaline rushed into his body when he saw the door and he stumbled towards it, reaching for the doorknob-
His hand bounced off of thin air and he fell forwards, his face connecting with Lucifer's wards as well. He slipped to the floor, spitting blood onto it. Then he realised what this had all been.
He had been left alone on purpose. The hope he had felt, that was his torture. He could never have left here. They had even forced him to keep himself alive by making him drink from a toilet.
Instead of sobbing, Joey's stomach clenched angrily. And there where the door to his freedom stood, he screamed in anger and anguish. "Let me go goddammit! Let me fucking go!" He beat his already damaged hands against the ground, as he shrieked wordlessly, all his frustration, fear and anger coming out at once. "Fuck you! FUCK YOU!"
He didn't have the energy to keep it up for long. But goddammit he was going to scream until he passed out.