Archive of Our Own ^beta

Niffty wasn’t having a good day. Her day was bad, terrible.

Her heart was racing from the moment she woke up. Her whole body tingling erratically, she could barely breathe. She was probably sick; she felt congested, too, but maybe that was from her crying.

Alastor was out, and frankly, she had stopped going to him for a while now. He was always too busy with the hotel to accommodate the others. The same with Vaggie and Charlie. Both of them went out with him. Something about ‘recruiting sinners’ — why couldn’t  Charlie just be happy with them?! And Lucifer, well, Lucifer was… Lucifer. 

That left Husk and Angel, while Husk was hiding behind the bar, probably drinking, or something like that. And Angel was…

“Fuck!” Angel exclaims, a low growl filling the lobby. Niffty giggles, rushing over to him and jumping in place. She tilts her head, electricity coursing through her tiny veins ( if she had any at all, that is).

Angel smiles, and frankly, a little less than he ought to. He slips into caregiver-mode quite easily, his chest warms — in a way it only does with her. The woman squirms excitedly against him, delighting in the way Angel pats her back and picks her up. Niffty’s eye not straying from Angel’s face, her tiny hand gripping his (albeit dirty ) shirt. 

The man grabs her hand, tearing it away from his chest and kissing it, “…it’s gettin’ late, Toots,” Angel whispered, glancing at the clock — 12:31 — he cringed, kissing the girl’s temple. “You really should be in bed right now. Where’s Husk?”

“He’s s’eepin, Mama,” Niffty giggles, gnawing on her other hand. “‘Dada s’eepy…”

Angel squints, walking closer to the bar, and sets the regressor on the seat next to him. While he bent over the table to investigate, “Husk?”

There, behind the bar, lay Husk, who had been gripping an empty bottle of cold medicine in one hand and a bottle of sinus medicine in the other. He flinches, looking up at Angel and grimacing, “The fuck you doin’ here? Y’supposed t’ be watchin’… hmph! Niffty…” He grumbles, hoisting himself up from the floor, “Ya’ fuckin’ slacker…”

Angel, who would’ve normally laughed at Husk’s cough syrup-ed commentary, sighed — instead, plopping the teething little one on top of the bar, “Well, I believe it is our job, now.”

Husk smiles, leaning onto the countertop and grabbing at Niffty’s face, squishing it tiredly, “Aw… ‘m sweet baby… there’s ‘m baby girl…”

Angel sighs, reluctantly leaving Niffty on the counter while he shuffled through his purse, tearing through each pocket until he finally found what he was looking for. He walks back over to the other two, carefully nudging a pacifier into the girl’s mouth. Husk’s claws tighten around the Niffty’s frame, while she giggles, kicking her legs and squirming against his grip. 

“‘M takin’ her… she need t’ go t’ bed, Angel, she so s’all ,” Husk grumbled, taking long sips of his medicine — his voice gruff, but almost tender. Niffty somehow managed to wiggle her way out of his hold, stumbling towards the demon and wrapping her arms around him. Angel sighs before carefully pulling her away. 

“Mama?” Niffty says. “Dada sick.” 

Angel, doing his best to keep Niffty close, “Fine, here’s the deal, we’ll both go upstairs, you go to your room, and I’ll take Niffty, deal?”

Husk nods slowly, letting Angel drag him from behind the bar — his hands are cold, but Husk still presses them against his face, purring. 

It’s not long until they reach Husk’s room; the lights are off, though they usually are anyway, and empty alcohol bottles are scattered about on the floor. Angel drops Niffty outside the door and helps Husk to his bed. His bones shift and crack against Angel’s embrace, his body weak in his arms. He lets Angel lie him down, feeling him pull a heavy blanket over him, then another. 

“Niffty?”

“Nope, still me,” Angel whispers, rubbing his back. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll make sure she’s okay while you’re asleep.” 

“‘M wanna see her, please?” The other man grumbles, wrapping a gentle claw around Angel’s arm.

Angel smiles, ruffling the cat’s hair, “When you stop being sick, old man.”

Husk sighs, his throat still aching, but he still manages to purr in response and sink under the blankets. Angel exhales slowly, rubbing his eyes and lifting his head, only to meet Niffty’s gaze from across the room. 

“Mama, tired,” the girl whines, rubbing her eye and stumbling to Angel. The man smiles and rushes to her, picking her up. 

“Here we go, now, let’s get you a bottle, and off to bed, alright?” He asks, his voice soft against Niffty’s ears. She nods slowly, suckling her pacifier as she’s carried to the kitchen. 

Angel shuffles through the cabinets, they didn’t have many dishes at the hotel, but they certainly didn’t have few. Most of the cups were made out of porcelain, or glass — but, buried in the back of the cupboard was one made just for Niffty. 

He grabs the bottle, popping the nib off and rinsing it through, feeling the little nudge her head into his fluffy chest, “You still okay there, munchkin?”

Niffty babbles, though Angel’s not quite able to comprehend it, but he hopes it means ‘yes.’ 

“Well… uhm, good!” He smiles, placing the bottle into the microwave, the regressor whines — her brain’s all mushy, but it still feels nice. He’s warm, and she swears she can feel his heartbeat through his fluff, and it’s been years since she’s felt anything like that. 

Angel squeezes her once the bottle’s done, kissing her head and using his spare arms to nab the bottle from the microwave, “You better not be sick, seriously,” he says, bringing the warm bottle to the girl’s mouth. “I can’t take care of both of ya’ at the same time.”

He hears her mumble something before she latches on, suckling quickly and wrapping her tiny fingers around the bottle. Angel coos softly, kissing her head and letting go of the bottle, making his way up the stairs and to Niffty’s room.

“Such a strong little girl,” Angel whispers, kissing the woman’s temple and beginning to hum into her ear again. He looks over at the clock in her room, 1:25 — carefully lowering her into her bed, still humming.

“No!” Niffty squeals, pulling at Angel’s coat and slapping his chest. Angel swears he can hear her growl as well, but he tries to ignore that, “Stay wi’ Ma! Now!” She screams, digging her claws into his chest. Part of him feels nervous, sick, even, but God, he would be lying if he didn’t feel a little amazing right now. 

“Oh, you wanna stay with me, huh?” He asks, delighting when Niffty nods. He sighs, picking her back up and propping her on his hip, “We’ll head to my room, ‘kay? We can watch a movie, too.”

The regressor pulls the bottle out of her mouth, “Watch scary movie?” She asks, staring up at her caregiver. “P’ease?” 

Angel walks slowly out of the girl’s room, closing the door behind him. He looks back down at Niffty, feeling a rush of warmth flood his veins, a tingling sensation taking over his body. He bounces her in his arms, “Yes, but only one, okay?”

Niffty shoves the bottle back into her mouth, suckling the milk greedily. 

Maybe Niffty’s day wasn’t so bad after all.