Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It hadn't been long since the last extermination, and everyone was still processing the aftermath of battling the exorcists. Thanks to Lucifer's magic and everyone else pitching in labor, the completion of the new hotel had taken just under a day. Cherri Bomb left pretty much immediately, as expected (she still wasn't onboard with the whole “redemption” thing). Lucifer seemed as though he was going to hang around on a more permanent basis, but the results of the extermination seemed to be causing all sorts of chaos and he was forced to go back to work. With the battle over and the portrait of Sir Pentious hung up in memorial, the rest of the surviving group had little else to do besides diving back into their usual routines.

Charlie and Vaggie were trying to find ways to advertise the hotel, with less luck than previously anticipated (it turns out people don't usually want to stay at a hotel being specifically targeted by the exorcists, even if their leader was killed by the janitor). Niffty was focused on keeping all the new empty rooms clean, Husk was using that morning's shipment of booze to experiment on some new cocktails, Alastor was…doing whatever it is he normally does, and Angel had dragged his feet back to his job.

That day, Angel felt like he was just going through the motions. His body ached with exhaustion before he walked in, which was probably normal given all the fighting he'd done in the days prior, but he also felt somewhat congested. Could you even get sick when you're dead? Oh who was he kidding, it's Hell so of course you could.

‘Maybe he'll let me go home.’ 

“Angel, right on time~” Angel tensed up at the mothman's hand on his shoulder. “You've got a long day of shoots to get through, got to catch up since you missed the past couple days.”

“Listen, Val-” He cuts himself off with a flood of coughs, each one piercing his throat like a shard of glass. The red smoke that wafted from Valentino's cigar wasn't helping matters.

“Hmm, what's this?~” The hand on his shoulder moves to his chin and pulls it up so that they're eye to eye. The coughs have stopped, but Angel is still trying to catch his breath and his panting visage seems to make something click in Valentino's mind. “Interesting, this'll change a few things for today.”

Angel sighs in relief, but soon tenses up again as Valentino's hand grips tighter on his face. “We'll have to have an overnight shoot. We can't let this go to waste after all.”

“Let what go to waste?” His throat burns and he winces. He can see Valentino's smirk get a bit wider. “Wait is this *cough cough* this another kink thing?” 

“Correct~ It's not a kink we have a lot of material for either, so it's a great opportunity.” 

‘Fuck my life…’

“Val, please can I just-” 

“Angel~” the hand grips tighter, one of the nails digs into his cheek leaving a mark. “You're not leaving until tomorrow, got it?” 

“...y-yes, Valentino” 

“Good~ now then, let's get things started.” 

==== 

About 16 hours later, Angel stumbled into the hotel lobby, feeling far worse than when he'd left. His throat was raw from coughing all night, which made it hurt to breathe. The congestion in his sinuses was giving him a headache. The exhaustion he'd started the day with had grown into a bone-deep weariness. 

He just wanted to get to his bed and pass out, but…his gaze naturally shifted to the bar. Niffty was polishing glasses at the sink. Charlie and Vaggie were bundled together sleeping on the nearby couch. They looked about the way he felt yesterday. 

‘Must be going around.’ He thought, eyes catching on black fur. The bartender was soundlessly stirring a spoon in a steaming cup. His head lifted and their eyes locked. The cat's eyes widened as he took in Angel's disheveled appearance. “Damn, you look like shit.”  

Angel can hear the concern in his tone and ignores the slight, sinking into an open barstool. 

“Long night” he tries to explain, but his voice is barely a whisper and the sound of it makes them both wince. 

“Here, drink some of this. Should help with the throat.” The mug Husk was stirring is carefully pressed into his hands. Angel relished the heat of the cup for a couple minutes before taking a few sips. There wasn't any alcohol in it, which was a shame, but it was warm and tasted like... 

“Lemon?” 

“Yep, honey lemon water. It's been very popular here today.” 

“I can tell.” He looks back briefly to the sleeping couple. “How long have they been down?” 

“Couple hours, they think it came from one of the sinners they were advertising to.” 

“Figures.” 

“It might be good for you to join them, it'll be easier to check up on you if everyone's in the same spot.” 

“What, but I'm-” before he can reassure Husk that he's perfectly fine, Angel's cut off by a new string of coughs. He feels a warm hand rest on his shoulder, rubbing small circles until the coughing peters out. 

“You were saying?” 

Angel sighed. “I'll join em, but I'm takin a shower first.” 

Husk smirked. “Good, soup should be done by the time you get down.”

Chapter Text

One hot shower later, Angel found himself lying on the couch opposite of Charlie and Vaggie's. Vaggie had woken up sometime after he left the lobby and was flipping through shows on Voxflix, but thus far had found nothing of interest.

“Ugh, just pick something already.” He groaned, rubbing his eyes. “The constant flashing's startin to give me a headache.”

“I'm trying to find something that's actually worth watching.”

“We can always pull up one of my films~”

Vaggie turned to Angel with an expression holding nothing but disgust. “No.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you better find something before-”

“Mmm” Too late. Their chatter had awoken the sleeping princess, who looked at her surroundings before remembering where she was. She stretched a bit, leaning into her angel. “Morning, Vaggie!”

“Hey hun.” Vaggie looked at Charlie with a soft smile, kissing the demon's forehead and humming at the temperature. “You're still pretty warm there, babe. How're you feeling?”

“Much better than yesterday! Maybe good enough to help-”

“No!” The consensus of the room was unanimous. Even Angel, who wasn't even here yesterday, could tell that was a bad idea. Their leader was pretty clumsy on an average day, but now he could see her hands trembling and her eyes glassy with fever. There was no question that if she were given a chore right now, something expensive would end up broken.

“Are you sure? Maybe I can cook something-”

“Alastor is already making soup in the kitchen, and I've got drinks covered.” Husk interrupted quickly.

“Oh, well maybe I can help clean-” Charlie looked at Niffty, whose smile had become slightly more murderous at the mention of someone touching her things, and quickly backed down. “Fiiiiiiiine, but what should I do? Sleeping all day is so booooooring.”

“Just put on a movie or something. Got any favorites?” Husk suggested, ignoring Vaggie and Angel’s quiet “noooos” of protest.

The puppy-like princess beamed with excitement and bounded up from her spot, swaying a bit at the sudden elevation before steadying herself on the couch. “I'll be right back!”

She zoomed away faster than anyone could catch her. Vaggie and Angel turned to Husk, both sharing annoyance in their expressions. “What? You couldn't pick another movie in time.”

“But Charlie always grabs the same kids' movie! We've seen it like a hundred times!”

“It'll be easier for you to pass out during it then.” The cat paid no mind to their pouting and grabbed a clean mug from the cupboard.

Niffty giggled. “You just want to watch the scene with the magic guy again.”

Husk nearly drops the mug in embarrassment, barely catching the handle with a claw before setting it down. “Shut the hell up.”

He doesn't deny it though, and Angel smirks. “So the kitty likes magicians, huh? I've got a few tricks I-” A stream of coughing cuts him off and shreds his throat anew. The fit drained him of whatever energy he'd gathered up, and by the end he could only muster a pitiful sounding “ow.”

Angel could hear the sound of Husk chuckling at his attempt, then felt a blanket wrap around his shaking shoulders. He looked up to a golden gaze. “Maybe you should leave the flirting for when you're not coughing up a lung.”

“Y-yeah.” Angel mumbled, obviously distracted. His face felt warm, and they were pretty close. Maybe…

“FOUND IT!” The moment was broken by Charlie sliding back into the room with a stack of DVD cases, the most familiar one being on the top. “I also found some other movies Dad left here before he went back to work!”

She let the stack fall on the coffee table and put the first movie in before snuggling back into Vaggie’s side.

About 10 minutes in, Alastor entered the lobby from the kitchen pushing a tea cart of steaming bowls.

“Soup's on, everyone!” Alastor's voice announced as Niffty passed the bowls around.

Charlie, Husk, and Niffty started eating without much thought, though Vaggie and Angel were a bit more cautious.

“There's no poison in this right?” Vaggie questioned while Angel lazily stirred his spoon around in the yellow-orange broth.

“Of course not, my dear! Why would I use perfectly good poison on a plain batch of chicken soup? That's just a waste.” His smile remained permanent, but his tone was mildly offended at the notion.

“Alastor wouldn't normally poison something he plans to eat himself.” Husk commented between spoonfuls.

“So…why isn't he eating with us?”

“I already sampled a bit during the cooking process.” Alastor explained a bit hastily. “Speaking of which, I still need to wash the dishes I left behind.”

“Wait, Alastor.” Charlie called. “Did you maybe want to watch some movies with us?”

“Perhaps another time my dear.” Alastor disappeared into the kitchen once more. The sounds of a running sink and a radio playing jazz could be faintly heard from the hall.

“Oh maybe I should go help-”

“Nope.”

“No.”

“Not happening.”

“Absolutely not.”

Charlie grumbled at the denial, the injustice of it all, but it was a temporary feeling. All the energy she used in the past half-hour caused her to crash a few minutes later, and Vaggie and Angel ended up soon following suit.

Chapter Text

With most of their little crew down for the count, the ones left standing had little to do. After Angel had come back, Alastor's shadow had subtly placed a sign on the door to warn off potential guests under the guise of further renovations (Charlie would probably be mad about that later).

Husk had left the bar in favor of sitting on the floor by Angel's couch. He was mostly watching the movie, but occasionally he'd turn his head to glance at the sleeping spider and readjust the blanket if it was slipping off.

Niffty collected the nearly empty and forgotten bowls and put them on the abandoned tea cart. It was difficult to move it at her height, but she managed to push it enough towards the kitchen where she could carry them the rest of the way.

The radio was quieter than it was earlier, but she could still faintly hear a swing tune playing. There wasn't any humming though, which was odd; whether it was intentionally or not, Alastor always tended to hum whatever was on the radio as he did other tasks.

She knocked three times before entering. “Alastor sir! I've brought the plates from the lobby.”

Alastor jumped a bit at her call, almost like he didn't hear her coming. She could see that his hand had been close to his chest, but it quickly went down to his side as he reset. “Thank you, Niffty. I'm in the middle of something, so if you let them soak in the sink I'll take care of them later.”

“I can clean them for you sir!” Niffty replied as she moved the plates she was holding into the sink. “I haven't found any new bugs to hunt since the extermination.”

He laughed softly at her enthusiasm, but it cut off too suddenly and she could see the slightest wince in his shoulders. Before she could ponder about it, he smoothly replied. “Alright, if you so insist.”

Niffty beamed, running to the other end of the kitchen to grab her footstool. One of the many troubles of being so small was not being able to reach the counters.

While washing dishes with her usual pep, she took a peek at what the radio demon was cooking up. “Macaroons?~”

“Yes, I'm trying out a recipe from one of the new cookbooks.” He was moving a batch from a pan to a wire tray, movements slow and a bit stilted. “I'm not sure what I'll do with them though.”

Alastor wasn't exactly a fan of sweets. Why did he even make macaroons if he wasn't going to eat them? The maid looked at his face, but his eyes seemed a bit dull, like he wasn't entirely present. She noted the ever-so-faint hitch in his breathing, how his permanent smile seemed a bit strained. A pattern started to form in her mind.  “I could leave them in the lobby, for when the others wake up!”

“Splendid idea Niffty.” Alastor put the last cookie on the rack and lifted a hand to his lips, stifling something.

His other hand reached for his ‘Oh Deer’ mug, which was filled with…some kind of liquid. Niffty couldn't really see the color of it, but whatever it was she could tell it had long gone cold by the slight shiver she saw him suppress on first swallow. The hand now free of the last macaroon reached into his pocket, taking out and unwrapping a white lozenge. “What flavor is that sir?”

Alastor blinked, eyes widening for a second as though he forgot that Niffty was here at all. “Ah, just menthol my dear. Care to try one?”

“Sure!” He handed her another lozenge from his pocket and she popped it into her mouth, wrapper and all. “Wow, thank you sir! This tastes awful~”

The honest and cheery tone of her voice conflicted with her words in a way that made Alastor laugh. He stopped himself sooner than he normally would. “You're welcome. Now, why don't you finish up those dishes and pick a plate for the macaroons?”

“Yes sir!” Her hands moved quickly on the nearly forgotten soup and mixing bowls. “And sir…?”

“Hmm?”

“If you need to take a breather, the chair by the couches is still available.” The radio cut off as Alastor moved to meet Niffty's gaze. 

The two stood looking at each other in silence. There was neither worry nor ill-intent in her eye.

“...”

“...”

“...I'll think about it later. Thank you, my dear.”

*ding* The oven timer went off, and the radio started up again. Alastor's attention switched to the remaining unmade macaroons and Niffty went back to finish off the unwashed dishes. The rest of their time was spent quietly working with only the sounds of jazz and dishes.

Chapter Text

Niffty had long returned to the lobby by the time the oven was shut off. Alastor thought about staying in the kitchen for a while longer, maybe grabbing one of the newer cookbooks they'd recently acquired and trying out a few new recipes. Cooking was a comfort activity for him, even if he didn't always eat what he made. 

Unfortunately, the sweet smell of the macaroons was worsening his already terrible nausea. He didn't technically lie at lunch; he did enjoy a little bit of chicken soup during the cooking process, but none of it ended up staying down for very long. There wasn't any evidence left behind, of course; the trash bag he'd rushed to empty his stomach into was disposed of before anyone could check on him. He'd also made sure to increase the volume of the radio beside him to drown out the sound of him retching.

Alastor wasn't sure if this nausea was from the illness going around or the infection that came about from his still healing chest wound (maybe both?). Part of him hoped it was the latter, if only to minimize the risk of one of the others getting vomit on his coat (the thought made him pale a bit).

Finally stepping out from the kitchen, Alastor walked silently back to the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie were still sleeping peacefully, though not quietly; The congestion had given Charlie a slight snore. 

Angel didn't appear as fortunate; he was shifting in his sleep, whimpering at something unseen. Husker was changing a wet rag on the spider’s forehead, trying fruitlessly to cool him down. He held one of Angel’s hands gently, mumbling words of comfort. Niffty was watching the two of them with rapt attention, wringing out the rags to give to Husk whenever he changed them.

‘ Seems like Husker’s was the right favor to call for this place ’ Alastor thought to himself. It wasn't like he had a myriad of options, mind you; most of the souls the radio demon had contracted during his time in hell had been torn apart on air for the entertainment value, so pickings were slim when he was grabbing useful tools for this hotel venture. Still, it was surprising just how useful those two were becoming for his plans, and if they were having their own fun well…he wasn't exactly going to stop them (yet).

Alastor quietly sat down in the lone empty chair, relaxing into the plush velvet and polished wood. His smile didn't falter (it couldn't falter, he made sure of that himself), but his eyes closed and now without distractions he could feel everything he'd been trying to avoid; the headache that'd been slowly creeping up on him throughout the day was pulsing in time with his chest wound and his heart. The nausea he had to swallow back, an action which caused his throat to burn like he was swallowing shards and glass. 

It hurt to even breathe, but he reminded himself that all this pain was temporary; once the illness passed, he'd have more energy to treat the wound, and when THAT was finally fixed he could move onto the next step of his plans. Everything would be fine so long as the hotel didn't get any-

*SLAM*  

“Charlie~ I'm back~!”

…unexpected visitors, goddammit. Alastor sighed, but got up regardless of how his body screamed at him not to. Charlie and Vaggie had been snapped fully awake by the front doors slamming open, but Angel was still half-asleep and moaned uncomfortably from the noise.

“wha the fuck is goin on?” Angel asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He couldn't move one of his arms as easily and looked down to see that Husk was still carefully holding his hand from before, clearly still too shocked from Lucifer’s sudden arrival to remember to let go. The spider's face flushed a bit. “Um, Husk…”

“Shit, sorry.” Husk’s face matched Angel’s for a moment as he released Angel's hand and started pulling away, only to feel the hand grab his back.

“No no, it's fine I was just…surprised.”

Alastor rolled his eyes at the pair as he walked over to the king of hell. Before he could speak, however, a golden ball of joy swooshed past him and hugged Lucifer tight.

“Hi Dad!” Charlie’s little nap must've helped her regain some of her energy. She wasn't better by a longshot though; Alastor was several steps away from the father-daughter duo and he could still feel the fever radiating off her. 

“H-hey Char-Char.” Lucifer startled at the heat and glassy eyes, holding his daughter stiffly. “You, uh, you doing alright kiddo? Can't help but notice you're a bit…warm.”

“Oh I'm a little sick but it’s not too bad.” Charlie cuts herself off with a sudden cough, followed by a string of more coughs. A white and red blanket with a yellow duck pattern appeared from thin air and wrapped itself snugly around the princess’s shoulders.

“Charlotte, why don't we get you sitting back down?” Alastor suggested, radio static covering up the scratch in his voice.

Charlie groaned in complaint. “But I just got uuuuup.”

“The deer is unfortunately right for once, Charlie.” Lucifer scooped up his daughter with practiced ease. “If you're sick, you shouldn't be moving around like this.”

“Can't you just make me feel better?”

Lucifer chuckled, settling Charlie down into Vaggie's arms. “Sorry kiddo, but my healing powers aren't that great. I can heal injuries without breaking a sweat, but illnesses are a very different beast.”

“Then can you at least heal Alastor's wound?”

“His what now?”

“My what now?” Alastor snapped his head in their direction. The room got deadly quiet for a moment.

“Oops!” Charlie covered her mouth. “Sorry, sorry, that was probably meant to be a secret.”

“Now Charlotte, why would you believe that I'm wounded?” The canned laughter rolled at the suggestion.

“I told her.” Vaggie replied, resting her chin on Charlie’s head. “You've had some kinda holy energy clinging on you since the extermination and well…you did disappear after fighting Adam.” The room looked at her with confusion. “What? I might’ve fallen but I'm an angel, I can still sense that shit.”

Alastor sighed. “I suppose I did sustain a minor scratch from my fight with the first man, but it's nothing that won't heal up on its own.”

“I’m not so sure.” Lucifer interjected, walking closer to Alastor. Now that he was paying attention, he could see the energy glowing off the radio demon. “Holy energy left in a demonic body for a long period of time tends to slowly purify, killing it in the process. It acts similar to a poison, so I should probably take a look.”

“...”

“...”

“...fine.” Alastor relented, if only because their quiet stare down was irritating his eyes. The world was starting to spin around him again, so he'll let the king play doctor if it means getting back to sitting down that much faster.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie chirped, watching them disappear into the public restroom not too far from the lobby.

A few quiet minutes passed.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN A ‘MINOR SCRATCH’?!”

Chapter Text

“Trying to let everyone in Hell know, I see? You disappoint me, your majesty.” 

“Cut the crap, Alastor! How the fuck have you been walking around with that for so long?” Lucifer motioned to the radio demon's gaping chest wound. 

All his moving about had popped some of the stitches, allowing a deep crimson to darken his bright red dress shirt. It'd be an awful stain to remove later. Still, the radio demon seemed fairly unbothered and was sitting calmly on the bathroom counter, as though he didn't have a care in the world.

“With my legs, obviously.”

“Alastor!”

“Oh, quit being so dramatic. Stitches can be redone.”

“That's not the point-” Lucifer cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ugh, nevermind. Let's just get this over with.”

His hand reaches out towards the wound, only to meet dead air as the deer flinches away from him. “Is that really necessary?”

“Alastor, if you want to be able to survive this wound, I'm going to have to touch it to extract the holy aura and heal the wound.” The demon king explained patiently, watching the deer's ears flatten to his skull and his body shudder at the thought. “As much as I'd love to leave you like this, Charlie would be upset if you died when I could've helped. Now, are you going to stand still or not?”

Alastor's eyes narrowed in anger at his current situation, but he didn't answer immediately. Lucifer watched the radio demon ponder his options for a minute, before something seemed to click in his mind and his body language calmed down.

“Fine, but we'll be doing this on my terms.”

“...and what exactly does that mean-?” The question gets caught in his throat when Alastor’s hand grasps his wrist.

“It means that you won’t be touching me.” The statement seems to be contradictory as he guides Lucifer's hand to the wound on his chest, but doesn't release it. Finally, he clarifies. “Instead, I will be the one touching you.”

“That doesn't…that's not…” Lucifer attempted to remark about how bullshit that weird loophole was, but the touch on his wrist was distracting him. After spending years toiling away alone in his office (mostly to keep himself distracted from thinking about his current separation with Lilith), the king of hell wasn't exactly used to people touching him. The grip of Alastor's hand was warm, almost burning (probably from the fever). He wanted to break away, but he also didn't want him to let go.

“Your highness.” A voice brought him back a bit, and he looked into the radio demon's eyes. They were narrowed in a way that implied the demon wasn't too pleased with his day-dreaming. “Is something amiss?”

“Uh, no no! I'll uh, I'll fix you up right away.” Suddenly moving faster due to the awkwardness, Lucifer began to draw the holy energy out from the wound. Alastor's face didn't change during the process, smile never fading, but the demon king could tell from the tightening grip on his wrist that the experience was far from pleasant.

After a few minutes, he'd managed to heal the wound up completely. The hand on his wrist loosened its grip, falling limply to the side.

“Alright, everything should be good…besides the illness, but hey! Least you're not dying anymore!” He expected the deer to have some kind of witty remark to that, or maybe a jab at how long it took, but there was only the sound of static. “Hey, uh…you alright there bellhop-”

Alastor clamped a hand to his mouth, jumping off the bathroom counter and locking himself into the nearest stall. The sounds of his retching caused Lucifer to wince with sympathy. He left the bathroom briefly to grab a water bottle from the fridge at the bar. 

When he'd come back, the retching had stopped and the static had begun again, mixed with panting breaths that were trying to even out. He knocked on the stall door. “Hey, brought you some water.”

There was no initial response but eventually, once the breathing had evened out, the door unlocked. Alastor was half-standing and half-leaning on the stall wall, legs shaking like a newborn fawn’s. The darker part of Lucifer’s mind wanted to laugh, but he brushed it away and handed Alastor the water bottle.

He used the first sip to rinse his mouth out, then he slowly drank about a third of the bottle before recapping it. “Thank you, your majesty.”

“Oh, uh yeah of course.” Lucifer was flustered by the polite response, subconsciously reaching out a hand to help the deer. 

Alastor walked around the hand. “I appreciate the offer, but I can walk on my own.”

“You sure?” Lucifer looked down incredulously at the sinner’s still shaking legs. “You seem like you're going to fall over.”

“I suppose I do need a bit of support.” Alastor reached his hand out to the shadows, conjuring something  with his magic. It appeared to be a cane, but it wasn't his usual microphone one; it looked to be made of polished dark wood, with small engravings of dials and notes. “This shall do quite nicely.”

“Well, if you're sure.” Lucifer followed behind the radio demon as they left the bathroom, watching and making sure the stubborn man didn't fall as he limped back to his chair in the lobby.

Chapter Text

“You guys were gone a long while~” Angel greeted the two men when they returned. His voice was rasped and he still looked pretty fatigued, but Lucifer's sudden arrival had fully woken him up. “So, you finally hate-fuck or what?”

“What? No! No no no no no!” Lucifer, flustered by the accusation, continued repeating words of denial with increasing levels of panic, only making Angel's little joke sound more credible.

Alastor, meanwhile, ignored the jab and sat back onto the chair he'd been occupying before the demon king’s arrival. A thick red quilt had been laid on top of the chair’s back when he left (likely Niffty’s work, judging by the careful stitching) and the radio demon grabbed it and wrapped it around his shoulders. He was still shaking, but the weight of the quilt helped tamper it down a bit. 

He leaned back in his chair, watching the rest of the group. Now that everyone was fully awake, they were voting on another movie to put in…well, it was mostly Charlie reading the titles and Husk (being the most recent in the hotel to have died) pointing out if he'd already watched it.

“Alright, so we've got ‘ Sound of Music ’-”

“Seen it.”

“‘ Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory ’-”

“Also seen it.”

“...‘ Fiddler On the Roof ’?”

“Is every movie you picked out a musical from the late 60s to early 70s?”

“No!” Charlie pouted, the fever flush to her cheeks making her look more adorable. “We've also got ‘ Annie ’”

“Huh, didn’t know that one got a movie.” Charlie jumped up, feeling victorious at finding something the bartender hadn't seen, and immediately set upon putting on the film.

Husk, meanwhile, turned to the king of hell they were borrowing the films from. “Why do you have so many earth films anyway? You go there often or something?”

“Oh hell no!” Lucifer, who'd been still denying Angel's little jab long after it'd stopped being funny, turned his attention to the cat demon. “I haven't left the Pride Ring since I ended up in Hell. Asmodeus goes there for work sometimes though, so once in a while he'll send me a movie he got from a bargain bin.”

“And every random movie he's sent happens to be a musical?”

“He knows what I like.” Lucifer sat cross-legged on the floor next to Vaggie and Charlie's couch, turning his attention to the television as Charlie messed with the DVD menu. She was still standing, more like swaying, so he extended a wing out to hold her steady. “Though if I had to pick a favorite, ‘ Annie ’ is definitely towards the top.”

“Oh, then you have something in common with Alastor!” Charlie exclaimed, feeling the wing behind her stiffen. 

Alastor, who'd been drowsily nodding off since the moment he sat down, found himself snapping awake and paying attention again at the mention of his name. “I have a what with who now?”

“You and my dad! You both like the ‘Annie’ movie!”

Alastor laughed, which turned into a stream of coughs. His voice rasped a bit. “Charlotte, if Husker wasn't alive when this film came to theaters, what makes you think I've seen it?”

“What? Well cause, when we first met, you quoted that one line.” Charlie coughed to clear her throat, then shifted into half-decent Alastor impression. “‘ Smile, my dear. You know you're never truly dressed without one. ’ That's like the line from the movie!”

“Ah, so that's the story you were referencing. I've only seen the theatrical show version that cycles through Cannibal Town every few years. It left quite an impression.”

Vaggie suddenly looked suspicious of Alastor's wicked grin while remembering the play. “What was your favorite part?”

“The ending! It was quite a glorious scene, watching the orphan children dine on the flesh of that rich prick and the cruel orphanage owners. Truly an uplifting conclusion.”

Charlie looked a bit horrified at Alastor's description and looked to her dad in confusion.

“No, you didn't forget about that happening in the movie.” Lucifer clarified. “The hell version just takes some…creative liberties.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Charlie mumbled, sitting back on the couch and leaning into Vaggie’s arms.

While Husk briefly got up to grab some supplies for the sickly crew (and maybe some popcorn on the promise that no one would throw it back up), the rest of the group settled in to quietly watch the film.

Chapter Text

The movie marathon lasted the rest of the day and into the evening. Dinner was leftover soup from lunch, microwaved despite Alastor's protests that it would be better reheated on the stove. No one else seemed to notice the difference, but that might’ve been due to the general congestion. Even Husk was starting to feel a bit of stuffiness in his nose, which wasn't ideal but then again nothing in Hell ever was. 

Niffty had found some vitamin c tablets while looting the bathrooms for cold and flu medication, so he'd taken a couple throughout the day. No guarantee they'd prevent him from getting sick entirely, but it'd be great if they could at least stave the illness off until someone else was feeling well enough to play nurse.

“Husky~” He heard a whine from the spider next to him. “Carry me to bed?~”

“No.”

Angel groaned. “Why not?”

“You're seven feet tall and all limbs, I'd lose my balance before the first step. Just go up yourself.”

“But I don't wanna~ It's too far.”

“Yeah, I'm not exactly a fan of climbing all those steps either.” Vaggie grumbled.

“You both know we have an elevator right?” 

The duo made a collective noise of displeasure.

“Don't wanna get up.” Angel continued to whine. “Too dizzy. Just carry me~”

“I'm not risking a concussion just to give in to your whims.”

“Please, cats always land on their feet.”

“Never said I'd be the one with the concussion.” Husk brushed a bit of sweaty fur from Angel's forehead, watching the spider’s head nuzzle into his cooler hand. “You're already boiling, don't need to make things worse.”

“Aw, you worried about little old me?~ Husky, I'm touched.” 

The cat stiffened at the remark, eyes shifting away. He looked flustered, and if Angel wasn't so fatigued from his currently ongoing fever, he'd be taking full opportunity to tease Husk about it.

Charlie then gasped excitedly, an idea forming in her mind. “Why don't we just have a sleepover here?!”

“That would make things a bit easier.” Lucifer reasoned. “But we're missing some vital equipment.”

The demon king snapped his fingers, conjuring a collection of pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags, and folded pajamas for everyone out of thin air. Lucifer's suit was replaced by red sweatpants and a duck-patterned long tee-shirt.

“Thanks, dad!” Charlie stood and picked up Vaggie in a bridal carry with practiced ease, walking towards the bathrooms to change. Niffty followed behind them carrying the pajamas.

“How the fuck does she have the energy for that?” Angel asked once they were out of earshot, stripping his clothes without much thought about his current company. Alastor looked away from the porn star's antics and also walked to the bathrooms to change in private.

Lucifer, meanwhile, was lost in his thoughts and didn't notice. Seeing Charlie carrying Vaggie reminded him of the past…back when Lilith would carry him like that…He shook the memory out of his head. Those were simpler times.

====

By the time the clock struck midnight, everyone had pretty much conked out. The sounds of congested snoring were the only things that broke the silence in the room.

BZZZZZZT! BZZZZZZT! BZZZZZZT!

…Until about an hour later, when that awful buzzing noise started playing on and off every five fucking minutes. The majority of the group was too far gone into dreamland to hear it.

‘ How fortunate for them. ’ Alastor thought to himself, ears pinned to his head covered by his hands. Being the lightest sleeper in the hotel had been a blessing for the most part, allowing him to eliminate a variety of threats with everyone else being none the wiser.

BZZZZZZT! BZZZZZZT! BZZZZZZT!

Now he was considering cutting his ears off to avoid having to listen to that infernal ringing. He wasn't sure how Angel was able to sleep through it, considering the source of the noise was the cellphone he'd put on the side table closest to his head. Maybe it was from experience, or maybe the illness had dulled his senses to the point where the loud buzzing didn't reach him.

Alastor closed his eyes when the room turned silent again, fully intending to catch at least a few seconds of sleep before-

BZZZZZZT! BZZZZZZT! BZZZZZZT!

“Oh for the love of-” Alastor was up before he could register it, his claws mimicking the swiping motion he'd seen Angel do a thousand times on the phone to answer it.

“ANGEL, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” The voice on the other side of the phone wasn't much better than the buzzing. Maybe he should've just thrown it into the wall. “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ON SET TWO FUCKING HOURS AGO, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

“Good evening, Mr.Valentino.” The radio filter masked any illness from his voice. He sounded dangerously calm. “Care to explain why you're calling at such a late hour.”

“...the radio demon?” There wasn't any fear in the moth demon's voice (even though there should've been), just confusion. “Why the fuck do you have Angel's phone? Are you fucking him or what?”

“You haven't answered my question, Mr. Valentino.” A drop of anger spilled into his tone. “Why are you calling so late?”

“It's not that fucking late.”

“It's three in the morning.”

“Yeah, that's not too late.” Valentino continued, not registering the deer's impatience. “Anyways, Angel was supposed to come in for work. Where the fuck is he?”

“Angel is currently indisposed at the moment.”

“...‘Indisposed’?”

“He's recovering from a rather unfortunate illness-”

“Oh, I fucking knew that. I want him to use that for this shoot.”

“...Why?”

“It's a kink thing, you wouldn't understand.” This fucker was really getting on his nerves. “Now be a dear - ha, ‘deer’ - and wake him up for me, alright?”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Well, besides the fact that Angel has already completed the standard 40 hours a week specified in his employment contract and is taking his allowed sick days-”

“Why do you know about that?”

Alastor, the deal maker who'd made a fair bit of employment contracts during his time in hell, did not bother to respond to that. “ Besides that, I don't stand to gain anything from waking up our beloved patron besides silencing you for a short period of time, so I simply won't.”

“You FUCKING PRICK!” Alastor moved the phone away from his ear as the mothman threw a tantrum like a child not getting a candy bar at the grocery store. “WAKE HIM THE FUCK UP AND BRING HIM TO ME!”

“Angel Dust will return to his work after he recovers.” His throat was starting to get a bit sore from all the talking, so he decided to wrap things up. “He will not be accepting any more calls from you until then. Goodbye for now!”

“NOW YOU WAIT A MINUTE, YOU MOTHERFU-” His claw tapped the big red button that ended the call. 

Alastor looked down to the sleeping bag near his hoof, where his favorite cat had been pretending to be asleep for the past five minutes. He dropped the phone, chuckling darkly at the soft “ow, fuck” he heard when it handed on Husker’s face. “Silence this for me, would you?”

Husker grumbled, but once the buzzing started up again he was quick to put the phone on silent and put it back on the side table with the screen facing downwards to block out the light. Alastor knew that Husk’s obedience in this moment stemmed more from trying not to wake Angel up, but he wasn't about to punish the cat for his conflicting loyalties so long as they brought results that benefited him.

He was about to return to his designated sleeping bag when he felt a pang of nausea run through him. Light yet quick on his hooves, Alastor found himself stumbling back to the bathroom to empty his stomach. It was mostly water, phlegm, and bile, plus the half-bowl of soup he'd managed to choke down for supper earlier. 

His throat burned from the acid and his vision spun. The floor tile felt cool to his feverish body, and while he knew that he should return to the others to avoid needless worry and confusion, getting up was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He felt his eyes shut, and he allowed himself to rest on the justification that a fifteen minute power nap would give him enough energy to return to his sleeping bag.

Chapter Text

The next morning left some feeling better, and others worse. Notably, Charlie seemed more energetic with her fever successfully broken, running to the kitchen to help Niffty with breakfast.

“Should we be stopping her?” Vaggie, feeling better but still not great, seemed more concerned about her girlfriend's wellbeing (as per usual).

“Nah, she'll be fine.” Lucifer replied, looking unconcerned as he turned a page in a novel he'd summoned from his palace. “She's always bounced back from illnesses pretty quickly, her immune system is really strong.”

“But what if she's still sick and just not saying anything?”

“Then she's working off her extra energy and will be ready for a nap this afternoon.”

“...that kinda makes her sound like a little kid, doesn't it?”

“I'm her father, she'll always be a little kid to me.”

“A little kid that you let make breakfast by herself?”

“I taught her how to make pancakes last week!”

“Is that really a good idea for breakfast right now?”

“For anyone who can stomach them, absolutely! For those who can't, there's some rice cooking in the rice cooker. Everything is going to work out just fine-”

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

FIRE! FIRE!

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The smoke alarm’s ominous warning sent Lucifer immediately running to the kitchen, book forgotten. Vaggie wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, slipped into a convenient pair of fuzzy slippers that Lucifer had kindly conjured for her the night before (duck themed, of course), and followed after him.

Peeking into the kitchen, Vaggie sighed in relief at the sight of no actual fire, merely smoke rising from a burnt pan that'd been tossed in the sink. The sink was turned on, running water over the pan to cool it off. Niffty grabbed a new pan from one of the lower shelves, and Lucifer took the opportunity to patiently explain how to make pancakes to Charlie, who was taking notes on the process (where did she get the notebook? No one knows).

Vaggie pondered if she should also be helping out. She wasn't at a hundred percent quite yet, but she was feeling a little better, maybe she could help too-

“Vaggie!” Charlie, upon noticing her girlfriend, immediately put the notebook aside on the counter and rushed over to her and scooped her up in her arms. “You should be in bed, you're still resting!”

“...are you really saying that right now? C'mon, I'm feeling a bit better, I can help-”

“No~” Charlie was clearly enjoying the opportunity for vengeance, watching Vaggie struggle uselessly in her arms before carefully lowering her to the lobby couch and gently kissing her forehead. “You're still a little warm, Vaggie, you're gonna have to rest today~”

Now it was Vaggie's turn to pout at the unfairness of it all. She felt so useless, to be unable to help her precious girlfriend because of an illness. How did she even get sick? Yeah she was fallen, but she was still an angel! Why does she get sick from demonic illnesses, it's just not fair!

“Oh, don't pout Vaggie~” Charlie leaned close, nose to nose. Vaggie found herself distracted looking into those eyes. They were warm, loving, and a bit mischievous. She could look at them for hours without knowing. “Can you stay here and rest until breakfast is done? For me~? Please~?”

Vaggie's throat felt dry, the words wouldn't come out. She nodded slightly, and Charlie smiled. “Thank you~”

The princess kissed her cheek and pulled away to return to the kitchen, a devious smile on her face. The former angel was left on the couch, curled herself under the blanket. Her heart was going a million miles a second and she couldn't tell if the heat on her face was from a blush or her ebbing fever. That girl was going to be the death of me, and by God it was going to be worth it.

“You know she'd start cryin if she ever heard you say that right?” Fuck, she hadn't mean to say that out loud.

“Shut up, Angel.” She grumbled, turning herself towards her companions in strife. 

Angel was wide awake, though he still didn't look great; his voice was still shredded, and his eyes were a bit glassy. Something told her things for him would get worse before they got better. 

Husk, meanwhile, was curled up in his sleeping bag half-awake. His breathing sounded a bit congested, but mainly he just looked extremely exhausted. Trouble sleeping maybe?

Speaking of nightmares… “Anyone seen Alastor around?”

The radio demon’s sleeping bag was empty, and he wasn't in the group that was cooking breakfast in the kitchen. Was he feeling better? Did he get up and go for a walk without telling anyone? It'd be odd, but Alastor did like keeping people on their toes.

“Think he passed out in the bathroom.” Husker mumbled. “Went that direction after a phone call last night, didn’ come back.”

“A phone call, with who?”

“Oh, right.” Husk lifted himself up a bit, turning to Angel. “Your boss called last night.”

“He WHAT?” Angel stretched an arm out and grabbed his phone from the side-table. He had over a hundred missed calls. “FUCK! Why didn't you wake me?!”

“Angel…it was three in the morning…”

“Yeah, and?”

“...anyways, Alastor told him to fuck off, so you've got timeoff until you're feelin’ better.”

“No, no, no, no-” Angel looked panicked, breathing hard and shallow. “No, he wouldn- Val would never let me do that!”

“Angel, everything's going to be alright.” Husk soothed, scrambling to stand and hold the spider together. “You need to calm down, breathe with me.”

Angel leaned on the cat's shoulder, trying to match his breaths. Tears fell from his lower eyes. “B-but what- what if he comes here? What i-if he hurts someone-”

“He won't.”

“You don't know that!”

“ Tony .” Angel freezes at the nickname. He'd told Husk his real name a few months ago, but he rarely used it. “It's going to be alright. You'll be safe here, no matter what.”

The spider sniffles, leaning into Husk. Red and black wings wrap around him like a blanket, and he feels…for lack of a better word, safe. It still takes a couple of minutes, but Angel finally calms down. He felt himself being moved around a bit, eventually finding himself sitting in Husk's lap on the couch. Normally he would've made a joke about it, but the emotional rollercoaster he just went on had sapped all his energy in an instant. He'd just woken up like an hour ago, but it didn't take long for sleep to claim him again. Quietly, he hoped that Husk would still be holding him when he woke up.

Chapter Text

“Sooo…‘Tony’, huh?” With Angel now conked out, there was only Vaggie and Husk left to chit chat until breakfast was done. 

Husk bristled a bit at the nickname, he hadn’t meant to use it in front of anyone, not yet anyways. As far as he knew, Husk was the only one in the hotel who knew Angel's real name. “Yeah, ‘Tony’.”

“Is it like…just ‘Tony’? Or is it something like ‘Antonio’?”

“That's his secret to tell.”

“Right.” Vaggie backed down fairly easily, though then again she also had a history of name debates. Is it Vagatha? Vagina? Who's to say. “So are we just going to gloss over the other thing he was worried about…the ‘Valentino’ thing?”

“Well, if he did decide to barge into the hotel just to grab Angel, then he's either very brave or very stupid.”

BOOM!

The cursed wall of the hotel was once again blown open by a large explosion. They really needed to stop rebuilding it, maybe they should just make another door there.

“Angel, get the fuck out here!” Husker unfortunately recognized the voice of the overlord currently resting at the top of his shit list. Pink smoke fumed from the rubble as a black high heel stepped through the hole. His tacky-ass outfit was the same as it ever was, though given his wings doubled as his stupid pimp coat that wasn't very surprising. The fluorescent pink guns were new though. Why were they bedazzled?

The shock from the two lobby residents quickly turned to annoyance as Valentino scanned the room for several minutes, unable to find the spider that was curled up in Husk’s lap under his wings.

“Huh, kinda thought he'd be here.” Valentino was left scratching his head. He finally noticed Vaggie and Husk laying on the couches, but he still wasn't able to see the seven foot spider. Wow Angel was right, his eyes were shit. “You two don't happen to know where that bitch is, do you?”

“Why the fuck would we ever tell you that?!” Vaggie shouted about as well as she could with a sore throat.

“What?~ It's a completely innocent question. I haven't done anything to cause you mistrust~”

“You blew up our wall!”

“Babe, that was the past!”

“That was literally thirty seconds ago.”

“Yeah, the past.” Valentino walked closer to the former exorcist. The muzzle of one of the bedazzled guns was pointed at her forehead. “Now are you going to tell me where my whore is? Or am I going to have to start shooting you all one by one until he shows up?”

“How about a third option?” The sound of a snap quieted the room. A radio mysteriously turned on as black tentacles shot out from the mothman's shadow.

Deadly quick, the eldritch tentacles grabbed Valentino's wrists and pulled them downwards. The pimp's first instinct was to pull the triggers on both guns, which were now thankfully pointed towards the floor rather than Vaggie's head. Another snap, and more tentacles rose up to disarm Valentino, letting him crash hog-tied to the ground. After struggling for a minute, the moth managed to get himself into a position where he could look up…and found the red dial eyes of the radio demon, who was dressed in his usual red suit and leaning on his new cane, staring down at him.

“Good morning, Mr. Valentino.” The radio filter over Alastor's voice was thick with static. “Now praytell, why have you decided to visit our darling hotel?”

“Uh…to get my whore back to work…”

“I believe I already informed you of his ailment last night.”

“A stupid little cold isn’t justification for disobeying his contract.” Valentino started to argue. “If I tell him to come in and work, that little prick should show up. He is at my beck and call, and he should be grateful to me for the opportunity.”

“Hmm, so this is a power play then?” Alastor straightened his posture, no longer looking at Valentino as he continued to speak. “A way of showing who is in control of your…situation.”

“I mean…I guess?”

“Then there’s an obvious solution.” Alastor turned on his heel, walking with his back to the moth and stopping at a red and white rotary phone he’d insisted on having installed when the hotel was being rebuilt.

“ Qué ? What the fuck are you doing?”

“If you are in control of Angel Dust,” Alastor continued, his fingers rotating the phone’s dial. “Then to get rid of you, I simply need to call someone who has control over you.”

Valentino scoffed. “Please, my soul doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“I never claimed that it did, but there are still people who keep you in check.”

“...you wouldn’t-” his voice was cut-off by the phone. It rang twice before finally connecting.

“Who the fuck ignored my email?” The voice on the other end sounded groggy, like they’d just woken up. “If I tell you fuckers not to disturb me-”

“Oh good, you still use this number.” There was a twinge of relief in the radio demon’s voice, though it was covered up by the static.

“Alastor?” Sheets rustled on the other line, but Vox sounded wide-awake now. “You still have my number? I gave that to you like sixty years ago!”

“And praytell, why do you still keep a phone number that’s over sixty years old?”

“Oh cause I gave it to y-Wait, no! Fuck! Shut up!” Vox stuttered, coughing a bit harshly before recovering his composure. “Why are you calling?!”

“I have recently acquired one of your Vees and I’d like to be rid of them.”

“Who the fuck could you possibly have? Velvette’s all bundled up in her room, and Val’s right-” a pause, followed by sheets ruffling again. “Fuck Val, seriously?!”

“He’s certainly quite a handful.”

“You have no idea.” A groan rose from the other line. 

“That being said, I’d appreciate it if you could remove him from the premises. Otherwise…well, it may be interesting to hear how he screams.” If it were anyone else, these words from that tone might’ve sounded seductive. From the radio demon, however, they were a threat.

Noise from the other line indicated that Vox was getting up and quickly getting dressed. “No need for that, I’m coming to get him! I’ll be there in…maybe an hour?”

“You have twenty minutes.”

“Make it forty and I’ll bring coffee from that cafe you like on 6th street.”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

The phone was swiftly hung up and Alastor turned back and stood leaning against the wall, watching Valentino struggle against his restraints. The pimp didn't seem too annoyed with them anymore though…in fact he might've been starting to enjoy himself. Gross, but probably to be expected given how kinky the scenario would look out of context. He'd have to find a less pleasurable way to keep the mothman still.

“Hey guys, breakfast is done!” The princess of hell's melodious voice echoed in the lobby. Charlie came out of the kitchen pushing the tea cart (it was certainly getting a lot of use this week) stacked with plates of pancakes and bowls of rice. There were also some water bottles, chilled from sitting in the fridge. Lucifer and Niffty were trailing after her, holding napkins and silverware. Conveniently (read: intentionally), Lucifer just happened to be holding all the butter knives. “Do you guys want pancakes or rice?”

“Ooo, I'll have some pancakes if you don't mind.” Charlie looked at Valentino with a mix of surprise and thinly veiled disgust, something Alastor was obviously quick to notice.

‘ Ah yes, I think I remember something Charlotte mentioned from when she visited Angel’s studio… ’ The cogs in Alastor’s mind turned while he watched the princess and the pimp.

Charlie did her best to look courteous, plastering a smile so fake it almost (definitely) made the radio demon a bit proud of her. “Hello Mr. Valentino, why are you visiting today? Have you decided to start your path of redemption?”

Valentino couldn't keep a straight face at the question, bursting out laughing in response. “Princess, You cannot be serious.”

“It was worth a shot. So, why did you bust through our wall?”

“I came to pick up Angel Dust for work-”

“Oh, he can't come in right now. He's sick.”

“So I've heard.” Val's expression soured. “And without provocation, the radio twink over there just bound me up like this and ratted me out to Vox.”

“You threatened to shoot me in the head.” Vaggie interjected.

“He did what?!” The smile disappeared from Charlie's face like it'd never been there at all. She ran over to Vaggie, looking over her to check for any cuts or bruises. “Did he hurt you?!”

“Calm yourself, Charlotte.” Alastor spoke in a soothing tone, though the static made it sound a bit off. “As you can see, I was able to contain the problem before it could pose a real danger.”

“He had a gun pointed at me!”

“Yes, my dear, and I took care of that rather quickly now didn't I?”

The radio demon and the fallen angel continued to banter while Charlie walked back over to Valentino. “Hey Vaggie, which hand did he use to point the gun at you?”

“It was the upper left one, I think. Why does that matter-”

SNAP

A scream rang through the building, and Vaggie turned her attention to the source. Valentino was writhing in pain on the floor, his upper left arm bent in a way it definitely wasn't supposed to be. It looked like a branch that'd been snapped in half. Charlie was standing beside him, arms folded behind her back and giving an innocent smile.

Most of the room had been shocked into silence. Niffty appeared to be unbothered by the act, more focused on passing around the silverware and napkins she'd been entrusted with. Alastor was half-parts shocked and amused at the development, allowing the tendril around Valentino’s now-broken arm to slink back into the void. It was better to save on his energy, the arm couldn't exactly move properly right now anyways.

Lucifer nervously laughed at the scene, trying to sound light-hearted. “Now Char-Char, I understand your anger completely, but I think you may have used a bit too much force there.”

‘ Ah, I remember now. ’

“Say Charlotte, didn't you say that Mr. Valentino offered you a job when you went to visit Angel at work?” Alastor watched as the king of hell’s expression shifted.

Charlie turned her attention to Alastor. “Oh yeah, but I already turned him down-”

CRUNCH

A second scream pierced at everyone’s ears and they turned to find Lucifer’s foot stepping down on Valentino’s now-broken leg. His smile was similar to Charlie’s, though it felt a lot more sinister. The scream went on for a few minutes before petering out, and Valentino fell limply against the tentacles binding him.

“Is…is he dead?” Vaggie shakily asked, still trying to process the scene she'd just witnessed. A few minutes of dead silence passed as everyone watched the mothman.

Despite the general hatred of Valentino in the room, there was a small amount of relief when they were able to see that he was still breathing. From the looks of it, the pimp had passed out from the pain of having two limbs broken in such a short span of time. Alastor was happy to remove the rest of the tendrils, watching the injured overlord sink to the floor.

Chapter Text

Vox wasn't entirely sure what to expect upon stepping out of the “inconspicuous” (read: shitty) car he used for covert outings, drink carrier in hand. Velvette exited from the passenger’s side and walked behind him, more focused on her phone than where they were going. 

When she’d heard Vox kicking up a fuss because “Val did the ONE FUCKING THING I told him NOT TO FUCKING DO!”, the influencer had pulled on an oversized black hoodie with a pink variant of the Voxtek logo and insisted on coming with. It was a decision made somewhat out of concern for her business partner, but mostly because she'd spent the past day or so sick in bed and was bored out of her mind. Vox didn't really care about her reasons though, he was far too frazzled and knew he'd need the extra hands to shove Val into the backseat.

The TV man had floored it all the way to Alastor’s regular cafe, dodging pedestrians because dealing with someone getting hit would be a waste of time. He'd used an app to order ahead and threw in a nice tip to keep the barista quiet. He didn't have the energy to use his mind-control powers right now, at least not without worsening his already terrible headache.

The drive to the hotel was a bit slower to avoid spilling the drinks. Velvette held the drink carrier even while sipping at the glorified milkshake caramel frappe she'd asked for when Vox was making the order. She was done with it by the time they parked in front of the hotel, exactly 38 minutes after Vox and Alastor had hung up. Vox grabbed the drink carrier and rushed out, with Velvette relaxedly locking up the car and following him.

Vox freed a hand to ring the doorbell and waited until the door was finally opened by a familiar shadow creature at 39 minutes and 59 seconds.

“Cutting it a bit close there aren't you, old pal?” 

Vox rolled his eyes at the radio demon, who hadn't moved from the wall by the rotary phone he'd been leaning on. “Cut the crap Al, where is he?”

Alastor pointed towards the reception desk and the TV overlord looked to see Valentino, sitting on the floor and eating a pancake he'd rolled up. His arm and leg were still broken, but the princess hadn't wanted to be a “poor host” and still offered him breakfast when he’d regained consciousness. The pimp had taken it mainly because he was concerned another limb might get broken if he refused, though being hungry from walking the whole way there was another contributing factor (trying to take the limo would've gotten him caught before he would've reached the hotel).

“Hey Voxxy~”

“Don't you ‘hey Voxxy~’ me! I'm still mad at you!”

“Mad at me?” The mothman had the gall to look offended. “Whatever for, mi amor ?”

“Val, what's the one thing I've consistently told you?”

“Quit trying to fuck our accountant?”

“No! Well, I mean yes, but what was the other thing?!”

“Don't mess with your body pillow?”

“Valentino…”

An annoyed groan resounded from the moth. “Don't chase whores around town.”

“And what did you do?”

“I was just dragging Angel back to work-”

“Which counts as chasing whores around town!”

“Voxxy, c'mon~ You can't stay mad at me, I'm injured~” He tried moving his broken arm and winced.

Vox turned to Alastor, slightly annoyed at Valentino's current state. Alastor’s smile was notably mischievous, even if he hadn't caused the injuries in question. “I made sure he didn't die, and his soul's still intact. I think I perfectly held up my end of our bargain.”

Vox sighed. “I mean I guess that's true.”

“Vox!”

“Val, get in the car.”

“But my leg's broken~ Carry me~”

“...ugh, Velvette can you-”

“Yeah yeah, I've got him.” Velvette reluctantly put her phone away and walked over to Valentino. She grabbed the fluff of his wing-coat and started pulling him towards the door.

“Hey!” Valentino started to whine, but quickly quieted down when the fashion designer handed him a tablet. It was on a Voxtube playlist of stim videos. Valentino found himself mesmerized by a video of someone making a sculpture out of chocolate and any complaints he had from being dragged across the floor fell to the wayside.

The door shut behind them, leaving Vox and Alastor staring at each other. “Now then, I'm certainly hoping you held up your end of the bargain?”

“Yeah, here.” Vox handed him a cup from the carrier, keeping the last one for himself. “Black coffee, no sugar or cream. Still don't understand how you can drink that shit.”

Alastor hummed and took a sip from the cup. He froze at the taste; it tasted like coffee, but something about it was off. Something was missing. He snapped his head back to the TV man. “The fuck is this?”

“Decaf, I'm not giving you caffeine when you're sick. You know it makes your stomach hurt.”

“What makes you think-”

“Oh please Al!” Vox laughed until it turned to coughs in his throat. “If you were at full power, you would've just flung him back at the tower rather than letting me pick him up.”

“I could still send you all flying if you give me a few minutes.”

“Please don't.” Vox, sounding incredibly exhausted, sipped at his decaf mocha before continuing. “I'd like to propose a temporary truce until this flu season passes over.”

“And why should I agree to that?”

“Because until the truce is over, I'll stop Val from coming over here and prevent him from calling anyone in the hotel.”

“Now that sounds like a proper deal.” The two were quick to shake hands. The feverish warmth from the radio demon's hand lingered on his skin, making him flash his bisexual colorbar screen for a second before it switched back to his regular face with a bluish blush. Vox's grip didn't loosen once the deal was struck, but the deer didn't hesitate to pull away. “Now then, old pal, I'd say you should be on your way before that moth’s bones start to heal improperly.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” The TV overlord looked a bit disappointed, but he'd gotten what he came for so he couldn't exactly complain. He walked outside and felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Vox turned to see Charlie, who'd been watching the conversation quietly from the sidelines. She was silently giving him a knowing look.

“If you ever need to talk about it, I'm always here.” The ‘it’ was left unsaid, but clearly implied. She'd noticed his little colorway glitch earlier. It was embarrassing, but Vox didn't shoot down the princess’s olive branch. He just ran back to the car. 

Velvette was back in the passenger’s seat, scrolling through Voxtagram. Valentino was laying down in the back seat, still distracted by the tablet but also whining. “Voxxy~ hopital~”

“You mean ‘hospital’?”

“Hopital.”

“Yeah yeah, hospital. Now if anyone asks, what happened?”

“‘Failed assassination attempt’, I know.”

“You guys really need to come up with a new explanation.” Velvette remarked. “You can't just say there was a failed assassination everytime Val gets hurt causing trouble.”

“It's more believable than the truth, and way less humiliating than saying my arm was broken by hell’s one and only princesa .”

“...Fair point.”

Chapter Text

Charlie watched the Vox’s car drive away before heading inside. The door closed with a soft click, and the princess audibly sighed in relief that the trio (mainly Valentino) were gone. A light breeze blew past her shoulder, and she turned to see the destroyed wall they'd left behind. The group had been ignoring it just in case the other Vees shared the “doors are optional” mentality that most sinners apparently seemed to have.

“Hey Dad, can you-”

“Just a moment, Charlotte, I'll take care of it.” The radio demon replied, taking another sip from his coffee (he was still able to savor the bitterness, regardless of the lack of caffeine). His fingers snapped, and the debris glowed green as it levitated back to the wall and fused back into place. The glow faded, and the wall appeared as though it were never blown up.

“Oh, thanks Al!”

“...” 

The lack of response caused the princess to turn towards Alastor. His body was still leaned against the wall by the rotary, head tilted down. Even with the support of the wall, his legs appeared to be shaking, like he was barely keeping himself standing. She was quick to walk over to him, resisting the urge to steady him. “Al?”

“Hmm?” His head tilted ever so slightly in her direction, allowing her to stare into glassy eyes. The radio demon blinked in surprise at the princess, as though she had suddenly appeared before him. “Ah, Charlotte. Was there something you needed from me?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine!”

“Bullshit.” Husk mumbled from the couch.

“What was that, Husker?”

“You heard me.” Husk replied a bit louder. “You know as well as I do that you're only making yourself feel worse, using your magic for every little thing.”

The radio demon scoffed at the notion. “Spells like that hardly take any energy from me.”

“Yeah, when you're healthy. Not so much when you're spending half the night puking your guts out.”

“You're beginning to try my patience, Husker…” As Alastor got more annoyed with the bartender, the static in his voice wavered. It was easier to hear the rasp in his throat and Charlie found herself wincing in sympathy.

“He's not really wrong though.” Lucifer decided to pipe in. “I can see from here that your energy's basically exhausted. I bet you'll fall over the second you leave that wall.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“Alastor, wait maybe you shouldn't-” The warning from Charlie came far too late. Alastor pushed himself off the wall, starting as though he were going to march over to the king of hell and deck him in his smug face…before his body utterly betrayed him. His weakened knees buckled, sending Alastor collapsing towards the floor. He didn't end up getting that far, however; Charlie managed to catch him at the last second.

The coffee in his hand was less fortunate. The sudden change in altitude had caused the radio demon to drop it in panic. The lid on the disposable coffee cup popped off from the sudden drop, spilling most of the leftover contents onto the floor. Thankfully Niffty was quick to react, grabbing a towel and zooming towards the mess and absorbing the coffee before it could make too big of a stain.

Silence swept across the room for a minute before being broken by Lucifer, who was positively giggling at the failed attempt. “So…what was that about being ‘perfectly fine’?”

“Shut…the fuck…up…” Alastor was panting from exhaustion, the stunt taking far more energy than he'd like to admit. Charlie was holding him up, guiding him back to his armchair. He tried to lean his weight more on his own feet, not appreciating the coddling, but the princess’s grip was firm and far steadier than anything he could manage at the moment and he was forced to concede.

Once the overlord was finally sitting down, he felt himself unconsciously relax into the chair. God he was tired; sleeping on the bathroom tile had felt cool and soothing in the moment, but he'd regretted it upon waking up with a heightened sense of ache in his body. His head was probably the worst of it, feeling the throbs of pain even in his antlers. It was excruciating enough that Alastor probably would’ve tried to retire to his room and hidden himself if he hadn't heard the wall blow up (because seriously, how the fuck was he going to sleep through that?).

“Did you want me to get anything for you Al? Maybe some rice? You haven’t eaten yet since you were dealing with Valentino…” Alastor paled a bit at the offer. Vox and Husk were both correct about his current state, loathe as he was to admit it: he’d been overusing his magic out of habit, and combining that with his current illness and the exhaustion leftover from healing yesterday’s injury had left him with a terrible nausea. He’d drank the coffee earlier, both to appear normal and to taste something other than bile, and he was barely keeping that down. Food was the last thing he wanted right now.

“I’m not really hungry at the moment, Charlie.”

“Are you sure? Maybe some water then?”

“I’ve got it!” Before Alastor could refuse the offer, Niffty was already shoving a bottled water into his hands. It was probably room temperature now, but the condensation on it still felt cool to his fevered skin. “Here you go, Alastor sir!”

“Well alright, if you insist…” The radio demon uncapped the bottle and took a light sip. It tasted slightly bitter, enough so that Alastor suspected the little maid had probably dissolved some medicine into the bottle beforehand. That didn’t deter him from drinking half the bottle however; He didn’t drink it all at once, of course, that’d risk ruining the upholstery, but the water was acting as a massive relief for the soreness in his throat. Recapping the bottle, Alastor looked down towards Niffty and lazily ruffled her hair. “Thank you, Niffty dear.”

The maid leaned into his touch like a cat begging for pets, and he obliged her silent request until he faded out of consciousness. Once Alastor’s breathing evened out, Niffty dipped away from his hand and ran off, returning with a lovely little quilt that’d been hogging space in the linen closet. She loosely wrapped it around the deer, who sleepily nestled into it. It was cute enough that Vaggie had to cover Charlie’s mouth so that the princess wouldn’t ruin the moment by “aweing” Alastor awake.

“What the fuck did you give him?” Husk whispered to Niffty.

“An anti-nausea pill, fever reducer, and a maximum strength painkiller.” Niffty responded at a normal volume. “They all cause drowsiness though, so they’ll probably keep him knocked out until lunch.”

Lucifer read the medication boxes that Niffty had rifled through earlier. “I’m pretty sure these are supposed knock you out for the whole day.”

Husk and Niffty both laughed at the observation before Husk finally acknowledged the king’s confusion. “I’ve seen that idiot drink enough to kill the average sinner three times over and still be wide awake. These won’t keep him down for very long.”

“So then, why give him anything at all?”

“To keep him from moving around and making himself worse.”

A collective nod of understanding swept the room.

Chapter Text

“Husky…too loud…” A light, raspy voice mumbled from Husk's chest. He looked down to see that Angel had stirred, exhausted eyes blinking up at him.

“Sorry about that, didn't mean to wake you up.” He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Angel was still positively burning, but it wasn’t as noticeable now that Husk’s own temperature was starting to rise as well. “How’re you feeling?”

“Hurts…”

“Gotta be more specific than that, Angel. Where does it hurt?”

“Throat…head…everythin’ hurts…” He whimpered, and Husk was quick to sooth the poor spider with a hushed tone.

“We’ve got some meds to help with that. You want something to eat? We got rice and pancakes.”

“...Rice sounds good.” At Angel’s response, Niffty scampered away and returned a minute later with water, medication, and a fresh bowl of rice (they’d kept most of it in the cooker to keep it warm).

She handed the bowl to Husk, who tried passing it to Angel before noticing the spider wasn’t reaching out. “Angel?”

The porn star whined, lifting his arms shakily. He struggled to get his fingers to cooperate, fumbling with the spoon and dropping it more than once. This continued on for a few minutes before he sighed and gave up entirely, leaning back down onto Husk’s chest. “I can’t…”

Husk looked down at him, this pitiful with his big puppy dog eyes (he’d been practicing them with Charlie, he just knows it). It didn’t take long for him to break at the silent request, moving Angel until he was leaning back against him.

“Niff, can I get a-” Before he could finish, Niffty had rushed off and returned with a tray table (where does she even get these things?). “Thanks.”

He put the bowl on the tray table and used the spoon to scoop up some rice for Angel, who thankfully was too feverish to come up with an inappropriate way to spin the scenario. The process was slow, as Husk didn’t want to risk Angel choking rice back up onto both of their laps. Charlie was absolutely cooing at the adorable display, while Vaggie was mostly paying attention to Charlie’s reactions and trying not to laugh at how cute they were.

Half the bowl was gone by the time Angel mumbled that he was full. Husk nodded quietly and put the spoon in the bowl, grabbing the water and the medication. They disappeared rather quickly, with Angel knocking the pills back and then almost choking immediately as they tried to stick to the roof of his mouth. The water was thankfully able to help chase them down. The remaining water was placed back next to the bowl.

While Angel was taking the medication, Husk felt a tickle in his nose that he was attempting to stifle. He held out for about as long as he could, feeling his nose twitch once, twice, three times, and but eventually he found himself turning his face away from the spider and into his elbow.

’chu, hat’chu, hat’chu!

A string of sneezes erupted from the former overlord, leaving him sniffling until he was able to grab a handkerchief from his pocket to blow his nose with. Once that was clear, he looked up to see Angel was smirking at him. “What?”

“You never told me that you even sneeze like a kitten. It's cute~”

A sudden blush colored the cat's cheeks, and he turned away his gaze. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Maybe later, baby~” Angel snuggled into Husk's chest, feeling the older man's heart rate skyrocket. For a man that claimed ‘every hole is a goal’, Husk got flustered way too easily. He felt a paw absentmindedly pet his fur, and he sighed contentedly at the gentle touch.

Chapter Text

Angel's room is dark and quiet, save for the grunting snores of the pig nestled in his bedsheets. The door creaks open, causing Fat Nuggets to stir from his impromptu nap, and he watches as the little redhead girl comes in with a bowl of pig kibble. He jumped off the bed, scrambling to the bowl.

“You must've been hungry!” The little redhead girl scratched lightly behind his ears as she watched him eat. She was mostly correct in her assessment, but that was not the reason Fat Nuggets was eating so fast; his true purpose would be revealed a minute later, when he bowl was clear. As the little redhead girl was distracted with getting the bowl from the floor, Fat Nuggets knew he had a moment's opportunity. He ran out of the still open door as fast as he could. “Hey wait, come back!”

Fat Nuggets, while normally a good pig, did not follow her command; he was on a very important mission. His Mama had left for work a couple days ago and hadn't come back. He knew that his Mama had returned to the hotel (he'd caught his scent sometime yesterday), but he didn’t return to the room. The little redhead girl had been feeding and taking care of Fat Nuggets in the meantime (she had copies of the keys to everyone's rooms for cleaning purposes), but he still missed his Mama. Nugget would simply have to find him himself.

The little pig was rushing towards his mama's scent at a breakneck pace. Passing by many doors, he finally stopped when the direction of the smell changed. He looked left and found a new stumbling block in his journey: a flight of stairs, each step about as tall as he was.

What was a miniature demon hog to do? Was he stuck on this floor forever? He supposes that he could try going down the stairs, but he wasn't exactly sure he'd make it without tumbling down. Though his skin was bulletproof, he wasn't sure if his bones would survive the roll. Mama would get upset if he got hurt.

But where is Mama? He felt a tear roll down his chubby little cheeks. What if his Mama was hurt again? What if his Mama was too hurt? What if he could never see his Mama again? Nugget felt despair at the thought. So he grabbed all of the courage he could muster in his tiny body and started to walk towards the staircase.

DING! WHOOSH!

Fat Nuggets turned towards the noise behind him. Oh right, there was an elevator. Nugget looked at the sad red goat man standing next to the elevator, who was staring directly at him. Their staring contest lasted a few more seconds, and then Fat Nuggets followed the sad red goat man into the elevator. He could see the little redhead girl running toward them as the elevator closed, hearing her smack her body directly into the doors. It did not cause concern for Nugget, the redhead girl loved pain. 

Light music played as they plunged downwards to the ground floor. Fat Nuggets distracted himself by doing a little jig, swaying side to side with the music. The sad red goat man did not join his dance, but Nugget was willing to be patient with him; he’d been a lot sadder since the other, sillier goat man went away.

DING! WHOOSH!

As the elevator doors opened, Nugget looked to the sad red goat man and gave him a nod of thanks, which the goat reciprocated. Then Fat Nuggets rushed out of the elevator, following his Mama’s scent to the hotel lobby.

Finally, he found his Mama resting on the couch. The spider was curled up in the arms and wings of his Papa (well, the magic cat man Mama claimed was his Papa, Nugget was still unsure).

Fat Nuggets happily trotted up to his Mama, ready to make squeals and snorts of glee…until he noticed that Papa and Mama’s eyes were closed and he quieted himself down. Mama was sleeping! That's why he hadn't come back! That was perfectly reasonable, Nugget decided. Sleeping was very important, his Mama definitely needed more of it.

Nugget hopped up onto the couch, curling up onto Papa’s legs. Papa grumbled, but otherwise didn't stir from his slumber. Fat Nuggets looked around the room to see that almost everyone else (besides the nice blonde lady and the tired blond man) was also asleep. It must be nap time! He didn't wake up too long ago, but Nugget already felt sleepy from running so far and so fast. He snuggled into his Papa’s leg and began to drift off.

Chapter Text

The trip to the ‘hopital’ was more relaxed than the drive to the hotel. Obviously Vox was still driving recklessly, but not having a less than an hour time limit meant he wasn't forcing Velvette to grip the Jesus handle like her life depended on it. 

“Can't we just let the piss baby heal up back at the tower?” Velvette grumbled, mindlessly scrolling through Voxtok.

Theoretically Velvette was correct and they could've just let Val heal the broken limbs on his own at home; Sinners could heal themselves remarkably well on their own over an extended period of time. Cuts could be left alone, Dismembered limbs could be regrown, so a broken arm and leg shouldn't be too much of a problem. In practice, however…

“We did that last time, remember?” Vox reminded her. “*cough cough* When he broke his leg *cough* tripping down the *cough* the steps?”

“Oh yeah, that.” Velvette laughed at the memory. “The bone didn't set and we had to break it again like what, two more times?”

“ No, tres veces .” Valentino mumbled from the back, wincing at the memory. Healing was a lot more difficult than one would expect; A cut left alone could become infected, a dismembered limb could take anywhere from hours to months to get back, and a broken arm? Well, that could go wrong a thousand different ways if the bone wasn't set properly. 

“Three times, right right.” Velvette’s finger tapped on the screen, probably liking a video. “At least we were able to find an actual doctor that time.”

“Too bad that was the last one we had under contract.” Vox grumbled absentmindedly, more focused on the road. “We really need to get more of those if Val keeps getting ‘almost assassinated’. Speaking of which, Vel, how’s that new app we’ve been working on?”

“The scheduling one? I think the QA team still needed more time, but we should be able to get it out by next quarter.”

“And the ‘terms and conditions’ section?”

“Entirely obfuscated. A sinner could sign their life away with a click of a button and be none the wiser.”

“Excellent.” 

“I thought we could only get favors from the app contracts?” Valentino questioned, looking up from his tablet.

“Yeah, one favor per agreement.” Velvette agreed. “And that favor could be to die on the corporation’s behalf.”

“Or to make you a quesadilla?”

“That was just the one time, and I was starving.”

“I could’ve made one for you if you’d asked!”

“I’m not trusting you anywhere near a kitchen! Not after last time!”

“Oh come on! Are you still mad about that? That was months ago!”

“We had to get a new microwave!”

“How was I supposed to know not to use a metal bowl?!”

The two continued to bicker, but Vox was tuning out the words. Their yelling, combined with the noise of his fans trying fruitlessly to cool him off, was hurting his (ears?) audio processing hardware. Complaining about it would make things worse, though, so he stayed quiet until he could see the hospital entrance. A sigh of relief passed though his lips. “We’re here.”

Vox put the car in park and left first to get a temporary wheelchair for Valentino. When he returned, he found Velvette already sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for Vox to take Valentino in so that she could park.He opened the back passenger door to see Val still lying with the tablet, making no moves to get up on his own. Lazy prick.

Vox sighed again, this time in frustration as he carefully moved to pick up his obnoxiously tall (boyfriend? Lover? Friend with benefits?) business partner. Slowly, he set Valentino down into the wheelchair and wheeled him towards the hospital entrance. The second the doors opened, Vox connected to the hospital’s wifi and his hypnotic eye was subtly placed on every screen in the building. His head thumped violently from the use of his power, especially to this extent, but he had to ignore that for now. They’d be able to make a formal post about the incident once they got back to the tower, so the last thing they needed was some asshole to pull out their phone and sell pics to the gossip mags before they could get a word in edgewise.

The nurse at the front desk looked at them with an apathetic expression and greeted them with an equally monotone voice. “Welcome to Pentagram City Hospital, how can I help you today?”

“Hello there.” Vox greeted, switching to his public persona-like tone despite his lack of energy for it. “My friend here has a few broken bones that need to be reset immediately.”

The nurse began filling out a paper on her clipboard. “Is the patient a hellborn or sinner demon?”

“Sinner demon.”

“Has the patient tried dying to reset the limb?” 

This would be a very startling question if Vox hadn’t already heard it before. Unless angelic steel was involved, sinners were pretty much immortal; if they died, they’d often just respawn somewhere else in the Pride Ring. Hellborn demons, meanwhile, had increased durability depending on their power but were still mortal; Once they died, they were gone forever, so doctors were more likely to prioritize tending to hellborn demons over sinners. 

Overlords often got around this by contracting personal doctors, but the Vees primarily made deals through the terms and conditions of their applications, and those contracts weren’t very powerful. Voxtek agreements ran on a “favor for a favor” system; the user could access a product in exchange for one favor to the corporation at a later date. Stronger contracts had to be made in-person, and Vox wasn’t exactly willing to interview every sinner in hell claiming to be doctor just to accidentally contract another person with a non-medical doctorate (he’s made that mistake too many times before).

“We’d prefer to let things heal naturally with a professional’s assistance.” His hypnotic eye flashed, catching the nurse in a trance.

“Of course, sir.” Her tone became more polite thanks to the hypnosis. Filling out the rest of the form only took a few minutes, and by the time Velvette came in from parking the car, another nurse called out that a surgical team was ready to see them.

The next few hours were a muddled mess in Vox’s mind as he had to focus on keeping his hypnosis powers going. He also had to stay in the surgery room while they worked on Val to keep a close eye on all the doctors present, just in case one of the fuckers broke out of the trance at the last minute and tried something stupid. Velvette was sitting in a chair in the hallway, still scrolling through her phone though she was more distracted by her own sniffles and coughs.

“Are you in need of a checkup, dearie?” Velvette looked up to see a doctor, who was originally just passing by. She looked like one of those little old ladies that amateur scouts would help across the street in the cartoons, only with bright red skin and massive horns that made up half of her height.

“No thanks, gran, it’s just a-” The younger girl was about to reject the offer, but stopped herself and thought for a few minutes before giving the doctor a shrug. “Actually you know what? Sure. Worst you can do is kill me I guess.”

“Splendid!” The doctor was quick to usher Velvette into an examination room, meaning Vox now had to keep track of what was going on in BOTH rooms to make sure none of the Vees were in danger, THANKS A LOT VELVETTE!

Whatever, it didn’t matter too much; Vox couldn’t fully hear what was being said in the examination room (the speakers on computer in there were ANCIENT), but it looked like Velvette just got a standard checkup and a couple of prescriptions to pick up from the pharmacy on their way out. At the very least, it gave her something to do while Valentino’s surgery was finishing up.

Chapter Text

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have just stolen a wheelchair.” Valentino grumbled, leaning the majority of his weight on a pair of zebra-striped black and blue crutches. He’d had to use them a few times, so they were already customized to his height and preferences (meaning they were bedazzled to a disgusting degree). The trio had gotten back to the V-Tower safely and were currently riding the elevator back up to Vox’s floor. All of them had their own floors, of course, but that didn’t stop Velvette and Valentino from taking over VOX’S floor when they were bored or lonely.

“ Buying a wheelchair would’ve *cough* would’ve been unnecessary. We already *cough cough* already have the cr-*cough* crutches and you’ve still got one good leg.” Vox explained tiredly, his voice raspy from coughing. He hadn’t brought any cough drops with him on the way to pick Val up from the hotel and didn’t want to risk going into a store to buy them and being recognized on the way back from the hospital.

“C’mon, mi amor , you know I’d go faster with the chair than the crutches!”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why you’re not getting one.” Velvette interrupted, more focused on scripting their formal announcement post on Valentino’s injury. “The last thing we need is a piss baby on wheels throwing a tantrum.”

“I don’t throw tantrums!”

“You fucking do too! What do you call ripping up half my models last week?”

“Getting bitches out of my way?”

“You were in their way! They were heading to a show!”

“I left the dresses intact!”

“You got blood stains on most of them!”

“If anything, I think the blood improved the designs.”

“Valentino!”

DING! WHOOSH!

“Fuckin finally…” Vox mumbled under his breath, stumbling out of the elevator as soon as it opened. He caught himself on the wall of the hallway, letting himself lean on it a bit as he walked down to the entrance of his suite. 

Valentino and Velvette were walking behind him, lost in their own little world as he fumbled for his keys and unlocked the door. 

“Voxxy, I’m starving~ make some lunch for me, would you~?” Valentino requested as he found a spot to crash on the TV overlord’s couch.

“Make me something too while you’re at it?” Velvette piped in as well, settling next to Val and grabbing the remote.

While the two uninvited guests started flipping through channels, Vox found himself doing shit on autopilot; walking into his shitty little kitchenette (he wasn’t much of a chef outside of his scripted cooking shows, so he hadn’t bothered to upgrade it), he opened the fridge to see if there was anything he could sacrifice to the gremlins invading his home. “Any requests?”

“Lobster mac and cheese!”

“Mint chocolate chip macarons!”

“Scrambled eggs it is!” Vox ignored the duo booing behind him as he pulled out a few eggs and let the fridge door close by itself. The vision in his left eye was blurry, probably (definitely) from overusing his hypnosis. He found himself leaning heavily on the counter as he cooked. His bones ached, head still throbbing though it lessened ever so slightly on the drive home. He hadn’t had much of an appetite lately (catching the bug certainly hadn’t helped) and it was coming back to bite him in the worst way. The decaf mocha he’d had that morning wasn’t sitting well in his otherwise empty stomach, leaving him nauseous.

The world faded out for a moment, and he blinked to find the eggs were starting to burn in the pan. Panicked hands quickly turned the heat off and moved the pan to a cold burner. Plastic plates were taken from a cabinet (he didn’t feel like replacing his ceramic ones just yet). He stacked some eggs on each plate with some plasticware and did his best to keep from dropping them on his way back to the living room.

From the looks of it, his colleagues had settled on a marathon for a romantic telenovela that’d been trending online lately. Valentino took a plate from Vox and started eating. His face scrunched up in disgust. “Ugh, that’s so fuckin bland.”

“I used salt!”

“Is that all you used?” Velvette’s face held a similar expression to Val’s. “We really need to teach you how to use spices.”

“It’s just scrambled eggs!”

“And yet, it could be so much more.”

“That’s…you guys…” Vox sighed. “I don’t have the energy for this. Can I get anything else for you, your highnesses?”

“Hot sauce and a martini please, baby~.”

“Chives and a glass of water.”

“You’ll get three of those things.” Vox stepped back into the kitchen and returned a minute later with a packet of chives, a small bottle of hot sauce, and two plastic cups of water. He put them on the coffee table and started heading down the hall to his bedroom.

“Aren’t you going to sit with us, Voxxy?~”

“I just…need to sleep for a bit. I’ll come back in an hour or two.” Vox heard the pimp click his tongue at the rejection, but he ignored it in favor of flopping onto his bed. The silk sheets felt cold to his fevered limbs and he shivered, turning onto his side and curling up as small as he could be. He didn’t have the energy to pull himself under the covers before he passed out.

Chapter Text

“Will John be able to pass the final round and win five hundred dollars? Find out when we return after this commercial break!” Vox perfectly recited the words, but he wasn't sure why he was saying them. Who the fuck was John? And why was winning five hundred bucks a big deal? Nowadays, that couldn't buy you shit.

A familiar jingle played for half a minute before it suddenly cut off.

“Alright, we're on again in five!” Vox heard someone call out, though he couldn't see who it was. Bright lights obscured the live studio audience and the camera crew. Light static rang in his…ears? His hand reached up and felt the side of his head. 

His sense of touch was dulled, so he couldn’t feel the texture of the skin but he could make out the shape of an ear, a head. A human head, not the flat-screen he knew he fell asleep with. Probably a dream then; it'd been a long time since he'd dreamed about something from when he was alive. Vox looked to the contestants, but they were blurry despite being so close. All he could really tell was that one of them was wearing a gray suit (probably John, though it could've been the other faceless contestant).

“Are you alright, Mr.-” The name was cut out by static, but Vox could tell the voice was referring to him. He turned to see another faceless person, probably an attendant, who was approaching him with…something? A bottle of water maybe? He wasn’t sure, everything was just so dizzying. Vox didn’t register that he’d fallen until he hit the floor, but the impact made him remember where this memory was from. Why? Why did he have to be reliving this memory? Of all the moments he’d been alive, hell he’d take any of the other fucking times he’d had a seizure over this one. A bunch of figures were suddenly surrounding him, when did they get here? That didn’t matter, they wouldn’t be there for much longer. The sounds of something metal coming loose caused them to scatter. Vox knew what was coming next, but he couldn’t his stupid fucking body. He couldn’t move, he needed to move before-

SMASH

Metal and glass and blood filled what was left of his blurred vision. A spotlight wasn’t as secured as it should’ve been, coming loose after he’d collapsed. His head hurt, it huRT, IT HURT IT HURT-

Vox snapped awake and shot up from his previously curled position, a hand coming to his mouth to block the bile rising in his throat. His body moved faster than his brain and a blink or two later he found himself hunched over the toilet in his master bathroom, gagging up coffee and bile. He could hear his fans working overtime to cool him down, and somehow he felt freezing and boiling all at once. His suit was clinging to his frame, damp with sweat (he still wasn’t sure why his organic parts still sweat, probably as a backup measure in case the fans broke?). The pounding in his head - his screen head - was centralized around where his hypnotic eye was displayed.

The retching slowly petered out into coughing, then to raspy pants. Shaky claws slid off his suit jacket and tossed it to the side. Vox regretted doing that a second later when he felt another chill run through him, but he didn’t feel like reaching out for it again and instead opted to curl into himself on the bathroom floor. It was cold, nice but also awful, and he felt cold and awful and miserable. He wanted something, anything resembling some sort of comfort.

Despite his better judgment, Vox checked the security cameras in his living room. The two idiots he called his business partners hadn’t left, but that was mainly because they’d passed out on the couch. He checked the time on his clock app and found it to be set to 10:30pm. It was strange to see them sleeping this early, but then again Velvette was still sick and Valentino had stayed awake way later into the day than he normally would have. The pimp’s moth demon form had made him nocturnal, so the time he’d broken into the hotel coincided with when he normally fell asleep. Besides the brief medical nap he’d gotten during his leg surgery, Valentino had been up all day, which was highly unusual for him. The two Vees were leaning against each other on the couch, with Velvette’s head resting on Valentino’s wing-coat. It pissed him off a little how adorable they looked, sleeping peacefully while he was suffering a couple rooms away, the fuckers.

Vox swiped away the camera feed from his vision. He didn’t want to wake them, if only because he knew Val was a monster to deal with if he didn’t wake up on his own. And Vox was hurting enough right now WITHOUT potentially needing to get his screen replaced again or worse. No, he wanted something that’d comfort him, even if it was just for a moment.

Comfort, comfort…Vark brought him comfort, but Vox wasn’t sure how this bug would affect the shark demon and had sent him off to a pet resort until things settled down. He peeked a bit at the cameras for the resort and saw Vark was also sleeping, hugging a stuffed animal between his fins. Absolutely precious, Vox would have to get a screenshot of that later.

Anything else that brought him comfort? Anything or anyone he could touch or maybe even talk to…

A person was quick to appear in Vox’s mind, and he groaned. ‘ Really? You couldn’t think of anyone else you wanted to talk to when you’re feeling like shit? ’

The problem was, he couldn’t think of anyone else. Minutes trickled by like hours, exhaustion keeping him from getting up and going back to bed. It was quiet, far too quiet, and he felt…lonely.

‘Well, the worst he could probably do right now is not answer.’

Chapter Text

The cold and flu medications Niffty had found seemed to be doing wonders for the sick hotel residents, who’d been pretty much sleeping the day away since the Vees left. There was a slight disturbance in the mid-afternoon when Fat Nuggets had escaped Angel’s room, sending Niffty into a hotel-wide chase for the little guy. It didn’t take long to find him, of course, but no one had the heart to carry him back when they’d found him curled up and snoozing away on Husk and Angel’s legs. He was too precious. Charlie made sure to snap a few pics with her cellphone to send to Angel later.

So while Niffty spent the rest of the afternoon watching people sleep and cleaning up the occasional spot of dust, Charlie and Lucifer were in the kitchen prepping dinner as a sort of father-daughter bonding activity. Conjuring food would’ve been faster, but there was something far more relaxing about actually making food step by step. 

Charlie was mainly responsible for anything involving knives, as her dad’s habit of zoning out for no particular reason often caused him to accidentally knick his fingers with them (or sometimes cut them off). Vaguely, she remembered a time where he’d accidentally dropped a knife he was using, causing it to fall tip-first and land barely an inch away from his foot. It’d ended up bouncing off the floor and landing elsewhere. No one was really hurt, but it still made the princess nervous every time she saw her dad reach for a blade afterwards. Lucifer, meanwhile, was responsible for anything requiring a flame (the memory of that morning’s alarm drill was still fresh in his mind).

They’d decided on a light potato soup, which had been simmering for about a half-hour in a pot on the stove. Preparing the ingredients hadn’t taken very long but Charlie hadn’t wanted to risk waking someone up by putting on another movie, so after moving their dinner ingredients to the fridge the duo decided to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies to pass the time. Then they made another batch…and another…and another…until Niffty walked into the kitchen hours later, thus reminding the pair that they still needed to actually make dinner they were originally prepping for.

“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about snacks anytime soon.” Lucifer remarked, marveling at the absolute wall of chocolate-chip cookies they’d managed to bake in the span of an afternoon. The king had two of them in hand, along with a macaroon from Alastor’s baking fest yesterday (despite disliking sweets, the deer sure was good at making them). “Maybe we should’ve diversified a little…I don’t know if the seven of us are going to be able to eat all these without getting sick of them.”

“We could have a bake sale for the extras!” Charlie suggested. “It’d get rid of the extras and provide an opportunity to talk to sinners about the hotel!”

“Will the cookies still be good by the time we’re ready for a bake sale?”

“Hmm…” The princess took the time to ponder this, pacing around the kitchen. She unconsciously paced in a pentagram-shape, a trait from her childhood that she failed to grow out of. Lucifer had always thought it was very adorable. “Maybe if we freeze them? But then again, that might change the flavor…”

BAM!

The sound of a sudden crash caused the duo to turn towards the kitchen doorway. Did something fall? Or maybe…

Charlie was quick to leave the kitchen, rushing through the hallway until she reached the lobby. She immediately focused on Vaggie, who looked a bit surprised but otherwise thankfully alright. Then she turned towards the boys, and found the source of the noise; Husk was sitting on the floor, looking like he’d been pushed off the couch. Angel was still on the couch with his arms outstretched, as though he’d unsuccessfully tried to catch Husk when he was falling.

“I’m sorry!” Angel was quick to apologize, as though he’d been to blame for Husk falling off.

“Husk are you alright?” Charlie crouched down to check Husk for any injuries, but the cat man waved her off.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Husk grumbled, his voice warbled by congestion. He pushed himself up to his feet, swaying a bit from the change in gravity. “I wanted to get up and moved the wrong way, that’s all.”

“If you need anything, you could’ve called for me or Dad-”

“Princess, I don’t think it’s possible for anyone else to take a piss for me.”

“Oh…” As Charlie processed the information, now vaguely questioning if that was actually a power that could be done with magic, Husk walked away from the conversation and down the hallway to the bathrooms. Angel seemed lonely without Husk’s presence, wrapping his arms around himself and curling up. The familiar sound of oinks caused him to turn though, and he lit up somewhat at seeing Fat Nuggets waking up from his brief nap and trotting over to his mama on the couch.

“Nuggies!” Angel exclaimed with the energy and joy of a tired child receiving a kids meal from a fast-food restaurant. Nugget was quick to nuzzle his mama’s side, reveling in the scritches one of his mama’s hands settled between his ears. The glassiness in his eyes made Charlie a bit wary.

“Hmm…maybe we should do a round of temp checks on everyone? Just to see if fevers are going down?”

“Sounds like a good idea, babe.” Vaggie was quick to catch onto Charlie’s concern and looked over to Niffty. “Think we’ve got enough thermometers?”

“Depends on the kind~”

“Niffty, we’re not using rectal thermometers.”

“But they’re the most accurate! Plus it’s funny-”

“Niffty!”

Niffty rolled her eye, but started grabbing a couple thermometers from the emergency kits she’d found while cleaning. “You’re no fun.”

Niffty handed Charlie the requested thermometers, who passed one to Vaggie first before turning to the hotel’s singular guest. “Alright Angel, open wide.”

“Like I haven’t heard that one b-” His response was cut off by a thermometer sliding under his tongue.

“Good! Now keep this under your tongue until it beeps.” The spider flipped her the bird, but followed her request regardless.

Next to get one was Alastor, who’d been dragged out of his drug-induced slumber by the crash. It was surprising just how quiet he’d been this whole time, but Charlie wasn’t too surprised; she’d seen him one or twice when he’d just barely woken up, and wasn’t exactly talkative then either. Not to mention that, given how quick he was to grab at the water bottle he’d left on the side-table by his chair, his throat was probably killing him. He’d taken the thermometer from her wordlessly, his eyes reflecting a bit of disgust at the technology despite his perma-smile never faltering. The disgruntlement most likely came from the fact that he’d been given a digital thermometer rather than a mercury one.

Beep! Beep!

Vaggie pulled the thermometer from her mouth and smiled at the reading. “Almost back to normal.”

“Awesome!” Charlie kissed the top of Vaggie’s head as a reward, looking at the reading on the digital screen. The display was green, and next to the temperature number was a happy little smiley face with devil horns.

Beep! Beep!

Charlie turned towards Angel, whose thermometer also started beeping. He took the thermometer and handed it to her, not bothering to check it in favor of petting Fat Nuggets some more. Charlie looked at the display, red with a sad little frowney face with devil horns.

“Well, that’s not good.”

Chapter Text

Husk returned to the lobby just in time to see Charlie beginning to panic. Not a new thing for her, but he wasn’t sure if there was anything happening right now that she needed to be panicking for.

“I’ve only been gone for like, five minutes.” Husk grumbled. “Someone die?’

“No, worse!” Charlie exclaimed, her hands latching onto Husk’s. “Angel’s fever is really high!”

“Like ‘hospital’-high?”

“I don't know! I've never needed to go to a hospital before, but…maybe?”

“Nooooo” Angel whined from his curled up position. Fat Nuggets was licking his hand and arm as moral support (or maybe because he could taste the scent of their breakfast from that morning). “No hospitals!”

“But Angel-” Charlie began to protest, but was cut off by the porn star’s whining.

“Don’t like hospitals…” Angel mumbled. “Ask too many questions.”

“...questions like?”

“‘Everything going alright at home?’, ‘Is that coke on your jacket?’, ‘Where is that blood coming from?’, ‘Are youse in the mob?’. They’re always so nosey.”

“Well, were you in the mob?”

“What are you, a cop?”

“Answer the question, Angel.”

“Fine, fine princess. Well, if you really want to know, when I was alive I was in a biz called ‘nunya’.”

“What’s ‘nunya’-” Charlie stopped herself as soon as it clicked in her head and turned to the pornstar with a disappointed frown. His mischievous smile in return would've been given the radio demon and the Cheshire Cat a run for their money. 

Charlie groaned. “Nevermind, just - what are some other ways to naturally lower a fever?”

“Meds?” Husk suggested.

“Well we gave you guys some this morning, but it’s been long enough that you could need another dose.” Charlie grabbed one of the first-aid bags and started doling out the medication. 

Two fever reducer pills were dropped into one of Angel’s hands. Without thinking about it, the porn star knocked the pills back and choked a bit when they stuck in his dry throat. Husk was quick to hand him a water bottle, which he chugged until he felt the pills go down. The ordeal left him panting for air.

Husk watched his (boyfriend? lover? partner?) idiot try to catch his breath and absentmindedly mumbled “Huh, never thought I’d find something you could choke on…”

“Alright! What else could help with Angel’s fever?” Charlie asked, quickly redirecting from whatever Husk had accidentally implied.

“I could give him a bath~” Niffty suggested.

“No, you will not.” Vaggie immediately shut her down. Niffty crossed her arms and pouted with her head down, kicking at the carpet.

“Well, the suggestion itself wasn’t too bad.” Charlie began to read a Voogle search from her phone. “Besides keeping hydrating and wearing a light amount of layers, a lukewarm bath can be helpful when trying to lower a fever.”

“I could draw a bath for him.” Husk volunteered.

“I love the enthusiasm, Husk, but…don’t you also have a fever?”

“Dunno, couldn’t read the thermometer.”

Vaggie looked at him, confused. “Couldn’t read the- what color was the reading? Red, yellow, or green?”

“Brown.”

“That wasn’t one of the options!”

“That’s what fuckin color it was!”

“How about I draw the bath for Angel and make sure he doesn’t drown.” Charlie cut in between the bickering pair. “We can use the bathroom in Angel’s room. Dad, could you-”

“I’ve got it, Char-Char!” Lucifer snapped his fingers before Charlie could finish, opening a portal leading to the bathroom attached to Angel’s room.

“Thanks Dad! C’mon Angel, up and at’em!”

“Noooooooooo” Angel whined again. Despite sleeping the day away, he was still plenty exhausted. His limbs were heavy as lead as a result, and he was not keen on moving them all the way to the portal. Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, Charlie decided it’d be easier to just scoop him up in her arms, similar to the way she did for Vaggie the day before. His height made it a bit awkward, but he was surprisingly light! That would probably be a cause of concern if Charlie wasn’t the third most powerful person in Hell. She started walking towards the portal-

BRING! BRING! BRING!

…great, the one time the stupid hotel phone actually rings, and her hands are literally full. She couldn't afford to just not answer that right? What if it was a sinner that actually wanted to stay at the hotel? “Could someone else maybe get that, please?”

She heard the sound of…some kind of magic? Followed by someone picking up the phone. The ringing stopped. Not turning back around to see who it was, she gave a polite “Thank you!” and walked through the portal.

Chapter Text

Angel’s bath went on for about an hour before his fever finally broke. Charlie had flitted about the whole time, checking Angel’s temperature every ten minutes and constantly making sure his head was above water. Charlie had tried making small talk a couple of times, but the spider didn’t seem up to chatter at the moment so it was mostly just the princess talking to herself.

The thermometer was yellow with a neutral face on the side. Angel was still feverish, but not at hospitalization type levels anymore. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, turning towards Angel with a smile. “Okay Angel, looks like your fever finally broke! Think you’re ready to get out?”

Angel hummed and blinked slowly, processing the question. He was exhausted, his brain lagging behind the rest of his body. “Maybe, might need help getting up though. Can I wash my hair first? Feels greasy.”

“Sure, want me to wash it for you?”

“Nah, I can do it. Could you grab a shirt and shorts for me though? Should be in the top drawer.”

“Alright, but shout for me if you need help alright?”

“I’ll scream as loud as you want me to, baby.”

“Glad to see you’re doing better, Angel.” Charlie laughed awkwardly, cringing a bit at the flirtatious dialogue, and walked into Angel’s room. Her hoofsteps were muffled by the room’s shag carpeting as she carefully made her way across the room, sidestepping fuzzy handcuffs and other sex toys that’d been left carelessly strewn around. At some point they should really have a group session about the importance of keeping their rooms clean…

Charlie listened closely to the sounds of water pouring and eventually draining from the bathroom as she made her way to Angel’s dresser. She picked out the most comfortable and least offending outfit she could find; a pair of pink booty shorts and a long black tee shirt with ‘Bitch’ written in pink bold cursive lettering. 

When she returned to the bathroom, the princess found Angel still sitting in the tub, shivering in a fluffy white towel with his hair dripping wet. Charlie grabbed a second towel and helped the spider dry his hair until he motioned for her to stop. She then handed him the clothes and turned away to let Angel dress himself.

They took the elevator back downstairs, with Charlie still carrying Angel around. At this point, he’d gotten enough energy back where he could theoretically walk by himself…but he was still pretty exhausted and Charlie had zero resistance to puppy-dog eyes (which is weird given how much she’d use them on other people). As the princess stepped into the elevator, she could see something moving from the corner of her eye. She recognized the lonely little goat floating down the halls and looked a bit sad. Ever since the battle, Razzle had taken to absentmindedly wandering the building as though he was looking for something (or maybe someone). She was leaving it alone for now, but eventually she’d have to find some way to comfort him. Words and hugs and kisses weren’t exactly going to fill the void that Dazzle left behind but…that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

DING!

She was broken out of her thoughts as the elevator doors opened. Charlie stepped out and walked down the hall, hearing someone talking excitedly from the lobby. She wasn’t sure who it was, their voice sounded…familiar, but different?

“...and so we got a wiggle on to the local juice joint. We dipped the bill and had a bull session going when some dolled up dame walked in…” Was that Alastor? Charlie walked into the lobby, carefully setting Angel down before she took in the sight of her steadfast hotelier. 

He was sitting in his chair, talking on the phone with a strange drawl and a variety of slang terms she hadn’t heard in a literal century.  A stick on ice pack had been applied to his forehead and he’d been changed into lighter clothes than she’d ever seen him wear; a pair of knee-length shorts, white ankle socks that barely covered his hooves, and a red v-neck tee with a side pocket. The pocket had a little yellow duck embroidered into it. There was no need to guess who switched his outfit. Somehow it didn’t appear that Alastor had even noticed it, too absorbed into whatever conversation he was having…wait a minute, who was he even talking to? Was it a potential guest? Had they been talking since Charlie left? Has Alastor been boring some poor soul to death for a literal hour?!!

“Um-” Before Charlie could ask any questions, she felt two hands cover her mouth. She looked to see her Dad to the left of her and Niffty from below sitting on her dad’s shoulder like a parrot. The duo dragged her back slowly into the hallway, then to the kitchen before finally removing their hands from her mouth. She was finally able to speak freely. “What’s going on?”

“Alastor’s fever is pretty bad.” Lucifer explained. “Looked to be on par with Angel’s, or maybe worse? Husk also wasn’t doing great either, so Maggie took him back to his room to get a cooldown bath.”

“It’s Vaggie, dad-wait, no, not important.” Charlie cut herself off. “So why’s Alastor still in the lobby? Shouldn’t he also be cooling down?”

“Weeeellll…”

“The king bad boy tried to pick him up and sir bit his finger off.” Niffty helpfully chimed in.

“What?! Dad, are you okay?!”

“I’m just fine, Char-Char! It grew back pretty quickly, just hurt like a bitch for a few minutes. Anyways I didn’t feel like trying that again and settled for the icepack and the lighter clothes for now.”

Charlie sighed. “Well, I guess that makes sense…so, whose he been talking to for the past hour?”

Lucifer shrugged. “No idea, but it seems like someone he knows. It’s hard to tell with the accent, but I think their name started with a V or something?”

Chapter Text

Alastor found himself woken up rather rudely by someone crashing to the floor. His eyes opened a smidge, allowing him to see that Husker had crashed to the ground. He didn’t even land on his feet, idiot. As he dragged himself into awareness, he watched some blonde walk in. 

‘What was her name again?’ The deer’s memories were fuzzy from what was either a fever or the worst hangover in his life. He was quick to grab the water bottle on the side table beside his chair, drinking it dry. It soothed his throat some, though it didn’t rid him of the headache pounding in his skull. Husk was talking to the blonde about something, probably about how he’d got on the floor though Alastor wasn’t really paying attention to the words. His hearing was fairly sensitive, to the point where he could probably hear things from outside the building if he wanted to, but actually processing the words of a conversation took more effort than he was willing to expend. He was pretty sure she was important though…

“Princess…” 

‘Ah right, Charlie.’   It unnerved him a little that he’d forgotten that, maybe he did have a fever?

Just as Alastor was pondering the possibility, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, Alastor saw that Charlie was now standing in front of him holding a thermometer. A digital thermometer, disgusting.

Despite his contempt for the fancy electric thermometer, Alastor still accepted it if only to sate his personal curiosity. When it beeped, he took it out and looked at the display. It was red, which was probably bad? That’s what the little frowney face on the display made it seem like anyway. Maybe he should check-

BRING! BRING! BRING!

Alastor physically flinched at the sudden loud noise, ears pinning to his head in obvious distress. What was that infernal noise-oh right, the rotary phone. The one he’d specifically asked to have installed. The one that barely ever ringed because no one called unless it was for a prank. Or occasionally the moth pimp when Angel didn’t answer his phone fast enough but he was barely worth remembering.

“Could someone else maybe get that, please?” Charlie asked, now carrying Angel towards a portal for some reason. When did they get over there? Well, no matter. With a snap of his fingers that for some reason increased the pain in his head, the phone moved to his side table and he picked up the handset. The princess thanked him as she walked through the portal and he watched it close behind her while he answered the call.

“Hazbin Hotel, Alastor speaking.”

“ ... ”

“...Hello?”

“ ... ”

“If this is another prank call-”

“ No! ” The voice on the other line was familiar, albeit a bit hoarse. “ Sorry, please don’t hang up, I just-*cough* didn’t think you’d actually answer-*cough cough* ”

The coughing continued on the other line and Alastor waited for it to calm before speaking again. “And yet you still called. What’s eating at you, Vinny?”

“You know no one calls me that anymore…” The voice mumbled. “Nevermind, I just…”

“...Just? Speak up now, cher, I can’t hear you when you mumble like that.”

“ I just wanted to hear your voice! ” 

“Hmm.” The deer’s smile widened in amusement at the embarrassment lacing that confession. He’d missed toying with Vinny, the other man’s reactions were always so funny. Watching the man climb his way up to becoming an overlord had been an entertaining experience. “Is that so? You called just to hear little old me?”

“ Yeah yeah *cough* laugh it up you creepy mother-*cough cough cough* ” The coughs on the other line had a crackle to them that made Alastor almost wince in sympathy. When the coughs died down, the other man was left gasping for breath. “ Fuck, everything hurts. ”

“Maybe we should save conversation for another time, then?”

“ No! No, I’m alright, I don’t need to talk, I just…just want to listen to you, please? ”

Alastor hummed as he considered the request. Even with his brain fogged up by fever, he was pretty sure that the two of them weren’t exactly on the best of terms right now. There wasn’t any real benefit to helping Vinny right now. And yet, something made him not want to refuse the other man’s plea. Maybe it was due to how pathetic he sounded, or maybe it was because the exchange could be used as blackmail later but…

“I suppose I can regale a tale or two to my number one fan.”

Chapter Text

What started as a ‘just a ten minute phone call’ had evolved into an hour-long session of Alastor rambling to an audience of one. He really shouldn’t have kept going so long; the more words spilled from his lips, the more likely he’d eventually say something stupid that could be used against him later. 

The paranoid part of his brain was begging him to just end the call, but its pleas were drowned out by a far stronger desire to speak. Despite his profession, Alastor didn’t get a lot of opportunities to talk about his personal life. He’d read the news, weather, and song titles for his radio show, but outside of work Alastor’s conversations were relegated to business at the hotel and current events gossip with Rosie. People didn’t ask how he died, nor should they, but no one ever asked how he’d lived either and those were the memories he’d been itching to regale. And now he had a captive audience that probably wouldn’t remember most of what he said. There was the chance that Vinny could be recording their conversation but…well, despite his distaste for new technology, Alastor was surprisingly adept at handling it. If worse came to worst, he could always just break into the V-Tower and delete it later. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

“...and so we got a wiggle on to the local juice joint. We dipped the bill and had a bull session going when some dolled up dame walked in. She was a flapper gal, skirt so short you could see her gams. She slammed some dough on the counter and ordered a round of giggle water for the room.” Alastor sighed pleasantly at the memory. “It was top shelf stuff too, horsefeathers it had such a good burn.”

A disgusted noise echoed from the other line. “ Sounds like it would’ve tasted awful. ”

“Oh don’t be a pill, Vinny, wasn’t exactly a time you’d catch anyone hard-boiled drinking a tequila sunrise. Anyways, the bird kept ordering rounds and people were calling her the bee’s knees. Wasn’t long before one of the guys I’d tagged along with got spifflicated enough to try chatting her up. He was such a sap.”

“ Didn’t go well? ”

“Oh no, it was swell for the first half-hour or so. He was a bell bottom, bit of a bluenose sober but a bottle or two would turn him into a pushover with nobody home and she seemed to find that charming. Shame he didn’t notice her handcuff before her Daddy showed up.”

“ She was married?! ”

“Ab-so-lute-ly. To make matters worse, the doll turned out to be a moll. He ended up spending the rest of his days dodging torpedoes.”

“ Fuck, being gunned down like that…*cough cough* sounds like a horrible way to go. ”

“Indeed it is.” Alastor hummed, taking a second to sip from a water bottle that’d been refilled a few times over at this point by a little redhead girl. 

What was her name again? He was pretty sure it sounded similar to ‘Eye’, but her handwriting was so terrible it looked like another language (or maybe it was another language?) she always wrote it in a language he couldn’t read. Nifty little thing though, she’d been a great hire after the last few maids quit. She was never disturbed by the screams that came from his studio; if anything, they seemed to excite her.

*cough cough cough* Some of the water slipped down the wrong tube and left Alastor in a fit for a few agonizing minutes. He could hear Vinny saying something on the other line, probably panicking. Once he’d managed to catch his breath, Alastor was quick to reassure. “Calm down, Vinny, I’m not going to croak over a bit of water.”

“ Al, we’ve already croaked. ”

“Semantics. Anyways, I’ve been beating my gums for quite a while, so I should probably be letting you go soon.”

“ Wait! Just *cough* one more question, please? ”

“Hmm.” Alastor pondered for a moment as though he was going to refuse, listening to Vinny whimpering on the line. He laughed internally at the thought of making him squirm. “Alright then, what’s the question cher ?”

“ ...Why didn’t you accept my proposal? ”

‘ ...oh right, that’s what we were arguing about right now, wasn’t it? ’ Well, at least he’d figured that out. It’d been bothering him that he couldn’t remember. His first instinct was to redirect the conversation or hang up…instead, he found himself giving a straight answer. “It would’ve been suffocating.”

“ ...Is that it? ”

“What do you mean ‘is that it ’? Why would I need another reason?”

“ I guess not, but…I thought maybe it was because of Val or- ”

“Heavens no, cher . While I’m not exactly a fan of your…companion, I wouldn’t exactly leave a good business proposal on the table just for that.”

“ ...right, a business proposal…that’s all that was. So, why’d you think it’d be suffocating? You would’ve been your own boss, had all the latest equipment, an audience of thousands- ”

“And absolutely no time for myself. Tell me Vinny, when was the last time you were able to take a day off?”

“ I’m on one right now- ”

“A proper day off, Vincent. Not a forced sick day, but a day you willingly chose to take for yourself, without any of those paparazzi fellows following you around?” The silence on the other end of the line for the next few minutes served as a suitable answer. “You’ve proven my point. While I certainly would’ve enjoyed the power and the limelight, I’m not exactly willing to restrict my life to keep up appearances.”

“ I mean…I guess that makes sense… ”

“Quite. Satisfied?”

“ Yeah… ” Vinny exhaustedly mumbled, letting out a staticky yawn before he could stop himself. “ I feel better knowing it wasn’t because I love you. ”

“...I’m sorry, what?”

“ Voxxy~ ” Valentino’s voice rang out from the line. “ I think it’s time you came back to bed. Say goodbye to Al, baby~ ”

“ Okay, bye Al. ”

“Now wait a minute-”

*click * *boop boop boop*

The line was cut off, either Valentino had ended it or Vox had fallen asleep. Alastor was left holding the phone, more confused than he’d ever been.

“What the fuck did that mean?”

Chapter Text

Vaggie was a bit surprised when she stepped out of the elevator and heard Alastor STILL chattering on the phone an hour after she’d led Husk upstairs. The fallen angel and the cat-man walked into the kitchen to see the rest of the hotel crew. Niffty was setting up the dining room for dinner while Lucifer, Charlie, and Angel were playing…

“Go Fish?” Vaggie asked.

“I wanted to play strip poker, but these two are cowards.” Angel replied.

“I’m NOT playing strip poker with my DAD, Angel!” Charlie flushed with embarrassment at the concept.

“Why not? You afraid of losin?”

“Angel!”

“Fine, fine.” Angel grumbled. “None of you guys are any fun.”

“Right?”

“Niffty!” The maid giggled, scampering away to grab more silverware for the table.

“So, who’s Alastor talking to anyway?” Vaggie asked.

“I think I heard him say the name ‘Vinny’? Not really sure who that is though.”

Husk grumbled at the name. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

“What?”

“Nothin, just…Tony can I borrow your phone for a sec?”

“Sure baby.” Angel absentmindedly passed his phone to Husk, who was quick to unlock it and immediately start typing. “Is Vinny someone I know?”

“I mean you saw him this morning.”

“...wait a minute, is Vinny-”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god, that’s fuckin hilarious.” Angel laughed himself into a coughing fit. Charlie looked back and forth between the two, hoping for an explanation, before Angel finally elaborated in a wheeze. “Vinny is Vox.”

“What?!”

“The moth guy?” Lucifer asked confusedly, not really a master of remembering other people’s names. The question sent Angel into another laughing/coughing fit as Charlie scrambled to explain.

“No Dad, the TV guy!”

“Oh…don’t they hate each other?”

“That’s what I thought…wait, how do you know about that Husk?”

“He brought up the name when he was drunk once.” Husk seemed to be done typing on Angel’s phone, putting it back on the table beside the spider who was finally starting to calm down. “Not many people in hell with a ‘picture box’ for a head.”

“So that means, you were texting Valentino?” 

Angel’s laughter stopped abruptly at the name, replaced by a shiver calmed slightly by a warm fuzzy paw on his back. “It didn’t seem like Al was planning to stop talking anytime soon.”

Charlie focused her hearing towards the lobby, noticing that it’d suddenly gone quiet. “Well, seems like that worked-”

The princess’s words were cut off by the sounds of stumbling and light curses. The radio demon’s hoovesteps echoed on tile until they were muffled by carpet. Finally he stepped into the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway, leaning on it to keep standing. His breaths were ragged, sweat causing the stick-on ice pack to be half-way peeled off. Charlie was quick to get up and help him to a dining room chair, where he sat with his head in his hands for a few minutes not saying anything.

“You uh…you okay there man?” Angel asked, unsure of how to react to Alastor being so…vulnerable-looking? That seemed accurate.

“Husker, how long has Vinny been carrying a torch for me?”

“If I had to guess, probably longer than you’ve known me.”

“And you didn’t inform me of this because?”

“I thought you already knew? It was pretty obvious.”

Alastor lifted his head from his hands, eyes clouded yet tone lively. “Of course I didn’t know that! How could I have known?!”

“He knows everything you like and don’t like down to the minute details, he does whatever he can to get your attention, he’s been using his cameras and drones to stalk you for years…”

“Isn’t that just normal fan behavior?”

“No?!”

“Well-” Angel was about to cut in, but Vaggie was quick to cut him off.

“No Angel, regardless of how much of a fan they are, that’s not normal behavior.”

“Before we keep going down the obvious red flags.” Charlie chimed in, turning to Alastor. “Al, what do you think of Vox?”

“He’s the funny little white boy that follows me around.”

“Alastor!”

“He’s a fan turned friend turned enemy that’s always been more entertaining than he has been annoying.”

“So, do you like…like him?”

“Not in the sexual or romantic sense, no.” Alastor finally clarified. “I think of him as an old friend, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Well then, you should probably tell him that the next time you see each other…gently, of course.” Charlie added.

“Is that an order for the sake of the hotel?”

“It’s a request from someone who doesn’t want another hole in her wall.”

“Hmm…fair enough, I’ll clear things up with him later.” Alastor mumbled, ears folding back as he let out a yawn.

“Soup’s on everyone!” Lucifer called out, having apparently slipped away from the conversation earlier to grab tonight’s dinner from the stove. Dinner was livelier than it had been the previous night, with people feeling mostly well enough to chatter lightly over their potato soup and chocolate chip cookies (an odd combination to be sure, but both were good so no one was really complaining). There were definitely going to be a lot of things to do and people to talk to once the flu season had passed over, but for now the group was happy to spend time with each other regardless of how shitty most of them felt.

While the group was talking to each other about nothing, Husk looked at the maid girl sitting at his left and questioned. “So how did you manage to avoid getting sick?”

“Oh, right!” Niffty acted as though she just remembered. “I was patient zero!”