Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Holy shit,” Stammers out of the man's mouth as he laughs “I did it! I captured the not so great anymore Radio Demon!” Alastor's stomach twists as the office chair is sent spinning, when it stops he’s face to face with the most shameful man in hell, Vox, who was still rambling.

“-ean I knew I could do it, but it feels so so good to finally have you here with me. You must feel like an idiot for turning me down back then-” Alastor sneers behind the gag, his ever present smile tightening. “-you said I was an idiot but look around ya Al-” The man grabs the front of Alastor's hair and tugs his head up to look at him. “-you’re here now, at my mercy, at my whims! You’re an idiot.”

Alastor tugs his head back, leaning back in the chair, crossing his legs, and glaring silently at Vox. This childish bickering wasn’t beneath him per se, not much was, he was rotting in hell. Oh that one was funny he’d have to save it for his next broadcast! There he goes, losing his train of thought again. He supposes he just wasn’t in the mood for the bickering he typically enjoyed. He simply wished to get his staff repaired and go on air, he wasn’t surprised Rosie refused but he wasn’t pleased with her refusal. 

He ignores Vox as the man continues to ramble, his overinflated ego always drove Alastor mad. Alastor ignores him as the man rambles about how he’s singlehandedly defeated Alastor despite the fact that if it weren’t for Voxs, far stronger partners, Valentino and Velvette, Vox would have lost, miserably, despite Alastor’s injuries left over from the last extermination. Eventually Vox tires himself out, he twirls the chair Alastor is in again so he’s facing the bed. 

Vox calls in Valentino and the two, Alastor would prefer not to describe it, perform coitus. It takes far longer than Alastor would have liked, hours too long.

-~*~-

Vox sighs and lays his head on Valentino's chest. This, this is what he was talking about. This was his own personal heaven, a good long fuck session with Valentino and a suffering and humiliated Alastor. Everything that he had wanted. Power, love, and revenge. 

He turns his head to look at Alastor, the deerlike man is glaring at him with the force of a thousand suns. Despite his tantrum he was still tied to the chair, Vox smiles back and blows a kiss. Alastor blanches and presses one of his feet to the floor and kicks back, he slides backwards and hits the wall hard. A growl escapes his lips from behind the muzzle, Vox rolls his eyes, scoffing. The man had always been so dramatic about sex and romance, something had to be wrong with him, well other than all the obvious stuff. Vox stands stretching and grabbing the nearest article of clothing, pulling Valentino's cloak around him. From the bed the larger man purrs.

“Voxxxxy~ you look so good in my clothes. You should wear them more telequito~” 

“Not now Val, can’t you see I’m talking to my guest.”

-~*~-

Alastor rolls his eyes, he wouldn’t exactly call walking towards someone who’s gagged making conversation, but what did he know about talking, he was only a wildly successful radio host.

Valentino catches him rolling his eyes and giggles, wiggling his fingers and smiling.

Alastor grimaces. He certainly didn’t want to be friends with the porn director. He sneers at Valentino as much as he can, Valentino returns the favor with a glare of his own.

“Oh c’mon Voxxyy we were just having fun you can’t just leave me!”

“Valentino I am busy!”

“You’re not replacing me with him, are you?”

Alastor who had slowly been removing the gag freezes at that, his stomach dropping and turning, that was his worst nightmare. 

“I certainly hope our friend Vox wasn’t planning on it, I’m afraid I find coitus entirely sickening, and he’s already crazy enough, we couldn’t send him over the edge now could we, dear?”

“Certainly not deer.” Vox says as he shoves Alastor's chest, his gaping wound doesn’t make it any less painful for him, when Alastor stiffens from the pain Vox quickly uses his cables to resettle the mask over his face.

“Valentino get out, I am trying to talk with Alastor.”

“You’re always talking about him to me, why can’t I see you talk to him?” The moth whines.

“I said get out!” Vox exclaims, using his cables to shove Valentino out and slam the door behind him.

“Now where were we Mr. Prim and Proper,” Vox says the second half in a poor imitation of the transatlantic accent, Alastor rolls his eyes. “Oh right, I was reminding you how much better I am, have always been.” While Vox is speaking he runs his clawed hands over Alastor's face in a way that makes the deer deeply uncomfortable. Alastor represses a shudder, refusing to give the TV even an inch.

This doesn’t seem to please Vox, the man growling and clawing at Alastors skin.

-~*~-

Alastor is three years old. He had wet the bed during his nap, like a failure. His father was incredibly angry. He is curled up on himself underneath his bedframe, crying softly as blood drips from his nose onto the floorboards beneath him. He’s being careful to sob quietly, he knows if his father is made aware of this he won’t be pleased. He hopes his mommy returns from the grocers soon. She will make him soup and sing to him until he feels better, like she always does.

-~*~-

“I have some questions.” Vox announces as he finally pulls his hands away from Alastor's body.

Ask away, it’s not like I’ll answer Alastor thinks as he shrugs absentmindedly

“How is some random serial killer from the fucking thirties so powerful?!”

Making a deal with someone before death dear Vox, something you would never be able to comprehend, much less do, particularly while alive, though I doubt you could manage it now.

“Why does that random serial killer disappear for seven years completely randomly?!”

I’m afraid the answer is the same, when you sell your soul you don’t exactly have complete free will, something we both understand considering I am the most powerful overlord, which involves owning a great many souls, and you were friends with me once. 

“The why the hell does he show up at some rinky dink hotel, for the bullshit idea of ‘redemption’ run by Lucifer’s cheesy optimistic fucking bitch of a daughter?!”

How many of these questions will have the same answer you small brained idiot. Though I have come to enjoy the hotel. The last extermination supplied quite a lot of angel meat, the wings are too gamey for me but the rest simply fantastic, I’ll have to see how often I can cut parts off of Lucifer.

“Why did you lose our fight, we both know you’re stronger than that, as much as I hate to say it- WAIT-” the man breaks into a laugh “Wait WAIT don’t tell me you care about those two, the- the cat”

His name is Husker.

“and the bug”

And her name is Niffty.

“You- YOU caring about people?!” Throughout this mini monologue the man is laughing “I didn’t think it was possible oh you’ve made this so so so easy for me, you are a fool Alastor.”

Ahh yes I’m certainly the fool here.

Vox has lost himself in hysterical laughter, Alastor simply rolls his eyes as he watches the man make a fool of himself.

-~*~-

Charlie was curled up in her bed, bawling her eyes out, she was so so worried about Alastor, sure Vaggi was convinced he was scheming but she wasn’t so sure, and if Vaggi was wrong and Alastor was truly at Vox’s mercy without a plan. She gasps in another sob, the last time she’d ended up like this Alastor had been there to comfort her, what could she do, what should she do?!

She feels a gentle hand on her shoulder and jolts upright, looking behind her quickly, when she feels the weight of disappointment in her gut at seeing Vaggi makes her feel extremely guilty. Charlie throws herself into the ex-exorcists arms, sniffling against the smaller woman's shoulder.

“Char I love you but c’mon Alastor is always scheming he’s fine, the hotel however cannot scheme and therefore needs us.” The woman says with a smile

Charlie nods, which all she can manage with the anxiety running through her mind. She takes a few deep breaths and stands up, with the help of Vaggi.

“You’re probably right but-”

“I love you, you know that, but please Charlie you have to focus. The hotel needs you.”

“I love you so much Vaggi.”

Vaggi pecks her on the lips quickly and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah yeah, love you too, now get dressed and meet me in the lobby.”

-~*~-

Alastor had been at the Vee’s tower for nearly a week now. His opinion on the experience? Well it wasn’t entirely negative. Vox was certainly annoying and just as clingy as he’d been all those years ago when the two were friends. Alastor found Valentino disgusting, the man may have been tolerable if he wasn’t so focused on sex. Velvette however was a delight to spend time with. She was still relatively new to hell and to being an overlord, not to mention she’d died relatively young, traits he normally found entirely unbearable, but he didn’t have full choice of his company presently. They’d been formally introduced when she’d barged into Vox’s office to yell at the man, Alastor had assisted in berating Vox and the two had bonded. 

He hums and shifts in the chair, Vox had gotten lazy with the restraints lately, not that Alastor would escape, he had made a deal after all. He looks up as the door to Vox’s bedroom is kicked open by the doll demon. Velvette's hair was braided into cornrows and set into two space buns. She was wearing a simple crop top with matching shorts, for someone who typically cared so much about her looks this was low effort for the woman.

“Vox is being a major cunt!” Velevette exclaims as she enters, slamming the door shut and flicking her wrist to cut the gag around Alastor's mouth with an enchantment. 

“Vox being annoying, I simply cannot believe it.” Alastor replies sarcastically watching as Velvette flops onto the bed.

“He let Valentino, who’s being pissy by the way, into my fucking studio, the bastard tore up one of my models so bad she’ll take a week at least to regenerate, not mentioning all the clothes he tore apart, weeks of work.”

“As much as I hate to defend Vincent, it seems that this is Valentino's fault.” Alastor's smile grows sharper when he hears Velvette laugh.

“I still can’t believe that Vox’s name in life was Vincent, it’s so stupid!” 

“If you wish for more to make fun of our dear Vincent, I would be most pleased to offer more ammo.”

“Oh that sounds fan-fucking-tastic!”

The two gossip for a while, bringing up things about all the other overlords, Alastor is quite excited to share what he’s learned with Rosie and Zestiel the next time they have brunch. He even thinks that perhaps Velvette should be included in their weekly soiree, the young woman had a ton of gossip and seemed more tolerable then she acted at the overlord meeting.

“You mean to tell me Zeezi died from a failed skydiving expedition?” He asks as he crosses his legs, Velvette was now laying upside down on Vox’s desk, looking back at him, her doll joints allowing her to turn her head 180°.

“Yeah, she crushed people when she landed, that’s why her demon forms a kaiju!”

“Oh dear-” Alastor laughs but he’s cut off by the sound of static as a bolt of electricity shoots from a security camera and lands between Alastor and Velevette, when and where it hits the ground Vox materializes.

“Oh deer indeed, Velvette why the fuck are you talking to my prisoner?!” As Vox exclaims this he walks towards the woman.

“Last I checked Al is the Vee’s prisoner, so he’s mine too, besides I’m not talking to a prisoner, I’m talking to my friend.”

“About what exactly?” 

“Oh plenty of things dear Vincent,” Alastor says inserting himself into the conversation “namely other overlords.”

“Other- Other overlords?! You’re not an overlord anymore, remember Radio Demon, or did the old age finally get to you?!”

“Well firstly you’re older than I, you died at what fifty, I was merely twenty seven, and secondly my position as an overlord is quite stable, I am your prisoner, you don’t own my soul. I still have possession over all that is mine.” 

“Why you-”

“Oi you cunt! Don’t tell me you're pissy he's right?!” Velvette interjects with a smile.

“Get out of my room!”

“Fine, wait one more thing.”

“Okay, fine Vel, what?”

“Tell Val to stay the fuck out of my studios, got it V?”

“Yeah yeah whatever, I’ll tell him now get the fuck out!”

“Toodles! See you later Al, I want to do your hair, I can’t believe you straighten i-” Before the doll demon can finish her sentence Vox uses his cables to shove her out and slams the door.

“FUCKING CUNT!” Velvette shouts through the door and Alastor can hear her storming off.

“Shame you didn’t let her finish her sentence, maybe you could’ve learned more about me, since you’re quite obsessed.”

“What the hell was that?! You’re my fucking prisoner-”

“-and our dear Velvettes friend.” Alastor finishes for him, which seems to corrode the rest of Vox’s patience and the man punches him in the face. 

“What was that? Charlie’s handshakes are stronger than that punch!” Alastor laughs despite the feeling of blood trickling from his nose. Another punch.

“Goodness gracious are you certain you're the serial killer and cult leader Vincent Whittman, this is pathetic!” Another punch, this one his chest, hitting right against the unhealed wound he had left over from fighting Adam during the last extermination. He coughs and blood spews from his lips and splashes onto Vox’s television face. 

“Oh lucky shot!” He exclaims, hanging his head slightly, his smile was certainly more of a grimace now.

-~*~-

Vox pants, he was hunched over Alastor's unconscious form, he’d been beating the lights out of that stupid fucking deer for hours now. He wipes his sleeve over his face, however he only manages to smear the blood as opposed to cleaning his face. If the Radio Demon wanted to play friends with Velvette he’d just have to give them a special surprise.

Vox shoves the chair Alastor was slumped in into a corner and tightens the cables and quickly replaces the gag. One look at the gag told him it wasn’t enough and he tears it off, prying open the bastard's smiling mouth and reaching in he wraps his clawed hand around the man's tongue, he pulls back and tears it out with a spray of blood. He stares at the hunk of red bloody meat in his hand, grimacing, gross. He looks up to the glass wall of his aquarium and sticks two, admittedly bloody, fingers into his mouth and whistles for Shock.wav. 

The large partially mechanical shark arrives quickly, dwarfing Vox and Alastor with its body, cloaking the two in his shadow. Vox looks down at Alastor’s tongue and hurls it over the rim of the tank.

“Din-dins sharky!” The shark eats it quickly, though it was likely just a snack for something as large as Shock.wav. 

Now that the tongue was disposed of, though the quick regeneration of hell would surely return it to Alastor quickly Vox would never complain about some quiet. He growls and sits down at his desk, glaring at Alastor’s slumped form. It was time to put his plan into action, really make the radio demon regret everything.

-~*~-

Alastor had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, however he could solidly guess it had been at least a day, but that wasn’t the most pressing question at the moment, right now he simply wanted to know where he was. He was obviously in a room of Vox’s if the bright blue brutalism told him anything. His ropes had been so graciously removed so he shifts to sit up, stumbling to his feet and biting down a grimace as he observes the room. 

The room is a small and claustrophobic square, roughly four by four feet, around three of the four walls there's a blue concrete and metal ledge, presumably a bench, it juts out about a foot leaving only a two by three area of simply floor, no wonder Alastor’s back hurt. There was no obvious door but there was a slight seam on the wall that didn’t have a bench. Vox had been feeling fancy with Alastor’s cell, lucky him. 

But perhaps the most annoying part of all of this was his tongue, or lack thereof. He could feel it regenerating, it would be back in a day or two, still a day without speaking was annoying. Alastor did love speaking. Alas he could annoy Vox in a great many other ways.

He sits down on the bench, crossing his legs and studying his claws, absentmindedly picking at his cuticles and the tips of the claws, he usually took good care of them but he hadn’t been able to lately, though he and Velvette had plans to spend a spa day together soon. He assumes that’s now off the table. Perhaps they could still get to it someday.

-~*~-

It had been two days since Vox had locked Alastor away, the man had woken up a day in and had been keeping his cool, which pissed Vox off. He wanted to watch the radio demon squirm and suffer and regret every choice he’d ever made, unfortunately he was not getting his wish. He flicks the lights again, which once again doesn't cause a reaction. He needed to figure out how to fuck to get him to care.

He sits down at his desk, pulling out a pen and paper, sure he had a TV for a head and was the media overlord but he would use good old fashioned stuff occasionally, not that anyone but him would ever know that. He writes his plan slowly and carefully, rage simmering under his skin, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper keeping him focused. Eventually he finishes it and sets up the orders he needs to make to Carmilla Carmine, the weapons overlord. He turns on his computer and types out the orders, sending them quickly. By the time he’s finished his rage at Alastor has grown stronger, he breaks off a chunk of the desk growls, when he stands up he scratches across it. 

Vox storms out of his room and forces his way into Valentino's room.

“Out.” He barks at the actors.

“Telequito what's this about?”

“I want to calm down.”

Vox shoves Valentino against a wall.

“Ohhhh~ I seeee~!”

-~*~-

Alastor was bored, a man could only memorize so many jazz songs to perform by himself. He’d been in this room for a little over a week now, he was pretty sure at least. He places his staff firmly in the center of the floor, keeping it standing upright with his left hand as he paces along the bench, jumping across the two foot gap in front of the door every time he comes across it. He wasn’t typically antsy but he was typically able to do the things he enjoyed: cooking, baking, playing piano, dancing, inking, and calligraphy. 

He had paced the total of the room a few hundred times, he had counted. Vox seems to finally get fed up, cables fly from all the security cameras and restrain him quickly, taking him into the air and flipping him upside down, how uncouth. Before he has time to fully comprehend it a bolt of electricity jolts from a security camera and Vox appears standing in front of him, Alastor is lifted up slightly by the cables so that the two of them are eye to eye. 

“Well Alastor looks like you’re antsy in here.” The man says with a sneer on his face.

“Naturally, a gentleman requires his exercise.” Alastor replies politely.

“Gentleman?! YOU KILLED AND ATE PEOPLE!”

“Can a soul not contain multitudes?”

“I wish Adam had killed you!”

“How queer I wish the same thing for you!” Before Vox can reply Alastors monocle slides down off of his face and falls to the floor, shattering from the seven foot drop to concrete.

“Ohhh old man's bifocals fell.”

“Thats not what ‘bifocals’ means”

“Are you always this annoying or is this special just for me?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

Vox growls and the cables around Alastor’s limbs tighten, he's certain he heard a few cracks, though he can swallow quite a bit of pain to annoy Vox.

“Well deer, I recently received quite a large order from Carmine industries.”

“Perhaps I truly am old but I don’t see what weapons have to do with your industry of mediocre technology.”

“Oh they aren’t for Voxtech actually, it's a present for an old friend.”

“Oh my, who’s the lucky victim?”

Before Vox can retort or Alastor can continue taunting the TV a sharp pain tears through Alastor's body as he spots a metal spear protruding from his stomach, not angelic steal so it wouldn’t kill him but it was painful and would be a nightmare to regenerate from. Before he can gather his thoughts the same pain shoots through his left leg a quick glance confirms his suspicion, his calf is skewered clean through. This continues, for a long time, when it finally ends the once blue room is stained red, Vox had left, to avoid being skewered, and Alastor is fairly certain more of him is splattered across the room then directly connected to his body.

He’s been impaled through his stomach, his left calf, his right thigh, his right hand, his left forearm, his right eye clear through the back of skull, his left ear, his tail, and his chest. He was coughing up blood, had been the entire time. Now don’t get Alastor wrong, he loved gore, however this was a bit too much for his tastes.

-~*~-

Lucifer sticks his forked tongue out of his mouth subconsciously as he carefully flicks the paintbrush over the sanded rubber. 

Carefully, caaaarefully, careful now Luci

Don’t ruin this like everything else

Like your marriage, your relationship with your daughter, your time with your fa-

NOPE! Nope nope nope, he had started this to ignore the negative thoughts. He’d been making rubber ducks since Lilith left to try and stay sane, the amount of rubber ducks he had probably didn’t help his whole ‘totally sane, thanks for asking, daddy loves you char-char!’ routine. But the ducks helped, it was nice to hyperfixate, and when one was immortal a hyperfixation that could last a mortal days could keep you going for years, it was what year eight now of the rubber ducks and he loved every minute of it. 

He flicks the brush carefully on the duck’s face, finishing the things eyeliner, wow that was great, he was great at makeup, I mean yeah he’s looked in a mirror before but his dad this is fantastic. If he ever quits the whole king of hell thing he could be a makeup artist. Wait he kinda had quit the whole king of hell thing when he went into that depression after Lilith left. Man he really should get back in contact with the sins at least, if for nothing else than the fact that he missed gossiping with Beelzebub and Asmodeus. But honestly the sins probably hate him for the unannounced eight year disappearance.

WOW! He needs to focus! He made ducks to distract from his depression, not worsen it! He takes Scales, his snake, yes THE snake, from his hat, which was on the table, and places her on his shoulders, she settles wrapped around his neck half asleep and very comfortable. She’d always comforted Lucifer. She’d always been there for him. She was actually the first thing he’d created. 

-~*~-

Lucifer was six years old, still a fledgling, he and his, older by three minutes but loved to brag about it, twin Michael were playing hide and seek with their elder brother Raphael, who was nine, in heaven's garden. Lucifer giggles as he crawls under a stone bench, folding his wings tightly to his back and hoping no down feathers fall off. He knew Raphael would look up since he and Michael always hid in the trees but there was no way anyone would expect this. He was the smartest!

He can hear the sound of Michael’s frustrated protests as Raphael spots him in the tree. Lucifer watches and Michael jumps from the branch into Raphael’s arms.

“Help me find our littler brother Mikey?”

“Luci was really smart! He hid under a bench! He said you’d never look low!” Michael exclaims with a giggle and points Lucifer out, Lucifer crawls out from under the bench with a huff and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“No fair, Michael traitored me!” He huffs and kicks a stray leaf over the path, he hears a warm laugh behind him and whirls around to see his Father, standing behind him is the youngest archangel, Gabriel, who’s only three now. Lucifer kneels, his other brothers do the same.

“Stand my children.” Lucifer obeys and walks back to his brothers, it wasn’t that he wanted to be farther from his Father, but he did want to be closer to Michael since the two had just been bickering and he didn’t actually want to fight.

“Gabriel run along and play with Raphael, I have something very important to do with Michael and Lucifer.” At their names Lucifer and Michaels heads pop up, staring at their Father. While they look up at their Fathers face Gabriel runs over and climbs into Raphael's arms when the angel crouches to set down Michael.

“Michael, Lucifer walk with me to my office, you have a very important task in front of you.” 

“What is it Father?” Lucifer asks as he reaches up to take God's left hand, Michael mirrors the action but with God's right hand. God smiles as he leads the two towards His office. 

They walk for a while, first through the expansive gardens of heaven, crossing over babbling brooks and pausing so Lucifer and Michael can look at the koi pond, they race through the tulip fields and fly over the waterfall. Then through the gilded streets, Michael and Lucifer say hello to all the cherubs and chase each other through a maze of alleys. Finally through the heavenly palace, Lucifer challenges Michael to a race to see who can reach Father’s office first, and wins obviously. They’re both out of breath and giggling by the time God catches up to them, He’s smiling as He opens the door to his office and ushers the two of them in.

The room is large, the part that one enters into is a small hallway with alcoves covering the edges, everything is made of a light warm wood, the lighting is warm, each of the alcoves have something different, an expansive library of scrolls in one, another set of bookshelves except all the books are these are intricately leather bound journals, floor to ceiling shelves stocked with meticulously organized art supplies, one is empty except for the walls which are covered with drawings and paintings. However most of the alcoves have desks, one desk is empty except for a blank scroll set in the middle with a quill and ink well on the side, another is covered with sketches, one has an open note book with a quill still dripping ink onto it, another is empty, one has a little bit of everything on it. Lucifer loves this part of Fathers office, it feels so comfortable, however the other part, the larger, and louder, part is Michael's favorite.

If one is to continue walking down the hallway they’d find what Father calls his replica; it is a recreation of his main focus of his biggest project, The Garden of Eden. It freaks Lucifer out more than a little. He gets lost too easily, it is always noisy, there is no true silence, Father thinks that's a good thing, he knows he’s not supposed to disagree with Father but how can anyone tolerate constant noise, he thinks he’d go insane living there. However the garden does have some wonderful things, Father and Raphael call them animals. He and Michael both loved the rabbits most, Michael called them bunnies, Lucifer really liked the idea and called them bunnies too. 

Lucifer and Michael watch as father leads them to a desk with two chairs, the two little archangels struggle to climb into the chairs even as their Father offers help, both determined to do it on their own. When they get up they look at the desk which has three pieces of paper on it. Surrounding them there are a variety of art supplies, God sits down at the other side of the table and smiles at His children.

“It is time for you both to create,” He says with a smile “you will both create a being to go on Earth in Eden. I will create one too.” As He says that He takes a pencil and begins sketching on his piece of paper. 

They spend a while sketching in silence, when all three of them are finished they take turns showing what they’ve made. Father made a butterfly, a creature that will go through three distinct stages of life to represent that this was Lucifer and Michael’s chrysalis stage as He put it. Lucifer wasn’t sure what to draw and just drew a squiggly line he liked and then turned it into something, a snake. But Michaels was Lucifer's favorite, he created a duck!

God then shows them how to create life and the three do it, Lucifer hugs Scales to his chest and decides right then and there that she was the best thing in the whole universe. How in the world could something be this adorable.

-~*~-

Alastor was beginning to consider he’d misjudged Vox. Perhaps whatever lingering romantic feelings Vox had for him were outweighed by his hatred. Alastor coughs up more blood, he hates regenerating. He forces himself to lay as still as possible as his limbs twitch, more blood spilling through his lips. Eventually the door is forced open and the doll demoness walks in. 

“Hush up, Vox won’t be happy I’m doing this but I don’t give a damn what he thinks, we have plans so I’m making sure they’re happening, this isn’t some sappy shit.” Velvette says and slams the door shut as she begins to use her powers to whip up some bandages, a curved needle, and string. She sews his wounds shut expertly, she was a seamstress afterall. Alastor’s smile softens into something genuine and he makes a mental note of this. 

“Naturally my dear.”

“What part of hush up don’t understand geezer?”

Alastor gives her a toothy grin but stops fighting as she takes care of the wounds. Grateful for the clever young woman's assistance.

-~*~-

Alastor is seven, he had spilled some soup on himself during dinner and father had locked him in the shed overnight summer. It was only fair. He was laying on the dirt floor panting, it was so hot. He only hopes he’ll pass out soon so he can wake up and go to his bed. His eyes flutter shut.

When he opens his eyes his mother is smiling down at him, those comforting crinkles around her eyes soothe him as she brushes her hand through his hair.

“Come back inside mon bebe, you need breakfast before you get ready for school.” She says and helps him to his feet.

When they go inside Helen walks over to the kitchen and begins preparing food while Alastor walks into the bathroom, he washes the dirt from his face and grabs the tin of the McBradys High Brown Talcum powder that father made him use. He grabs a glass jar of cocoa butter and pulls it over to him. He pours roughly a teaspoon of the powder into his hand and grabs a tablespoon of the cocoa butter and puts it in his hand and mixes the two together before rubbing it on his face. He hates the feeling of the lead against his skin but father insists. He doesn’t want Alastor to look at all like his mother. Alastor is supposed to look like his father, white. Once he’s finished with that he grabs the glass jar of Madam Jones hot comb oil and dips his comb in it. He brushes out his hair, tugging through the coils and letting the chemical mixture straighten it.

When he’s finished he looks in the mirror and can only see his father in himself, his skin is lighter than his mothers and his hair is straight. Even his facial features looked more like his father than his mother. He sighs as he walks towards the dining room where his father was reading a newspaper and sipping a cup of tea, he looks at his mother, who was setting the table up for breakfasts, and spots a faint bruise blooming around her eye. Alastor balls his hands into fists that familiar rage bubbling in his stomach but he forces himself to stay calm as he walks over to the table. His mother fills his plate and he eats quietly staring at it. 

-~*~-

Velvette was getting pissed off. Vox has been such an annoying cunt lately. Alastor had been locked in that ugly cell for a month now and Vox was either torturing the deer or obsessing over torturing him. Velvette didn’t have many friends outside of her girlfriend, Melissa, and her allies in the Vee’s, so yeah she was being a sentimental dumbass about this, but could you blame her?

Besides it wasn’t entirely because they were ‘friends’ or whatever, there were only so many black overlords and not at all shockingly racism was rampant in hell, she wasn’t gonna lose another one. Well she supposed technically Alastor was creole and, goddammit, focus Velvette! 

She wanted to get Alastor out of here so that she could y’know finally get that planned gossip spa day, definitely that. She just needed a plan, she knew that Alastor worked with Charlie Morningstar's stupid little redemption hotel, and everyone in hell knew that the princess was the universe’s biggest sap, she could probably just go to her. Actually wait, that was a great idea, she wouldn’t even technically be betraying the Vee’s! She really was the best.

“Babe-” Melissa says which snaps Velvette out of her thoughts, they were on a date at Dante’s Inferno, the best restaurant in Sin City and she couldn’t even focus on her girlfriend, how rude.

“Sorry love, just frustrated that Val fucked up my studio.”

“Still on about that?”

“You know it.”

Melissa laughs and Velvette was sure that if she was a cartoon her pupils would’ve turned heart shaped, sure she was a cold hearted business mogul and overlord but she still loved a few people, and Melissa was one of those people. 

-~*~-

Charlie to put it nicely was so stressed she was losing her mind, Alastor had been gone for a month and half now and the Hazbin Hotel desperately needed its hotelier. Charlie darts through the lobby, almost crashing into Vaggi.

“Watch out!”

“Sorry babe!”

Charlie vaults over an empty couch and ends up at the reception desk out of breath to see a line of sinners looking for assistance.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

“Heres your key!”

“Vaggi’s working on the broken TV’s.”

“No, I can't make the barkeep nicer.”

“Niffty isn’t that creepy! But yes I can have her make sure to clean your room while you're out.”

“The hot towels are in the fridge labeled hot towels.”

“Please stop ringing the bell ‘just for fun’.”

“Group therapy is at nine PM every day and there's an extra session on weekends at nine AM.”

Before she can make half of a dent in the line her phone buzzes and jumps out of her hand.

“Oh crap! I’ve gotta get this! Someone will be right with the rest of you!” She says and runs out of the lobby into a broom closet.

She hasn’t checked her phone yet but she hopes it’s the same thing she dreams about. Her mom calling her again for the first time in eight years, saying ‘hey Charlie tell your dad I’m sorry I left and I’m coming back home!’ and then Lilith tells Charlie what she did to drive the queen of hell away and then everyone's happy! That has yet to happen, but that doesn’t mean it's impossible. However that is not what this is, an unknown number is calling.

Charlie answers tentatively and a clear British voice comes through. “Is this Charlotte Morningstar?”

“Velvette?!” Charlie exclaims, more angrily than she would’ve liked, but Velvette was a Vee so she was working with the people who kidnapped Alastor.

“Listen Charlie, and I mean listen, shut up, I’m using my girlfriend's phone for this so Vox doesn’t find out. Listen, you and your little hotel parade need to come fetch Alastor. I’m not telling you this because I care or anything! But it’s boring, Vox is just torturing him all the time, I don’t even get to talk to him, which is a shame because we had plans to- forget about it! Just come get that stupid deer before I wring Vox’s neck!” Before Charlie can fully process anything that just happened Velvette hangs up on her. 

“Vaggi holy shit!” Charlie shouts as she runs out of the closet looking for her fallen angel girlfriend. She definitely runs into some hotel guests in her panic but people seem to get the idea and get out of her way as she sprints towards the kitchens to see if she can find Vaggi.

-~*~-

Lucifer is laying on a pile of rubber ducks and slowly letting it swallow him when the knock on his door comes. He sits up, or tries to, drowning in the mountain of his own rubbery creations. 

“I’ll…I’ll be right there! Who-whoever it is!” He calls out as he flounders out of the ducks.

He grabs one and glares at it. “Traitors, all of you.” He says before remembering what he’s supposed to be doing. As he runs for the door he tosses the duck back into the pile.

He opens it to see his beautiful, wonderful, and delightful daughter Charlie standing next to her tough girlfriend, whose name he could not remember, man he needed to work on that.

“Charlie, Charlie's girlfriend, come on in!” he says with a wide smile and throws open the door. The two women walk in, it’s then that Lucifer realizes he really misread their faces, they both look apprehensive and worried.

“Dad, me and Vaggi need to talk to you.” So that was the woman's name, Vaggi, he would try to remember that.

“About what Char-char?”

“Well you know Alastor, right?”

“Who?”

“The…the hotelier dad,” Charlie sighs seemingly disappointed and Lucifer has to look away, wow he feels really shitty about this one “he’s about seven feet tall, really red, deer features-”

“Ohhh yeah! The bellhop, Red Guy, Bambi! I haven’t seen him around lately, lucky me!”

“Sir you haven’t seen him because he’s been kidnapped.” Vaggi interjects, squeezing Charlie's hand.

“Aww you don’t have to call me that Vaggi, call me Lu- wait what?”

“Yeah dad- Alastors been- been kidnapped and I’m really worried and I need- we need your help-” Charlie says, trying, and failing, to stifle tears.

“Welllll Char-Char you know I can’t really huuuurt sinners, can’t really do anything with ‘em so I don’t know what I can do. But nobody gets away with making my daughter cry so I’m at your service, as much as I can be at least!”

“We know that sir, sorry Lu, old habits.” Vaggi says as she comforts Charlie, rubbing the woman's back softly. “We need you to be a distraction and do some healing, that’s all, can you do that?”

“Oh distraction and healing? That’s easy! What's the plan?!”

-~*~-

Charlie crouches just outside the entertainment district after going over the plan with the team again. She watches as her father flies off into the heart of the entertainment district, close enough to Vee tower to give them cover but not close enough that the Vee’s will assume this is about them.

 With that she follows Vaggi’s instructions as the woman tells the three groups to split up. Baxter and Niffty were going to break into Vox’s lab to look for more information and provide cover. Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb were going to destroy as many of Valentino’s sets as they could, as well as distract the moth. However Charlie and Vaggi have the most important job, they have to rescue Alastor.

When the first golden light shoots off in the distance they go. Sprinting towards Vee tower and hoping nobody gets killed.

-~*~-

Alastor had a headache, which wasn’t uncommon these days but it was worse than usual, the loud explosions in the distance did not make it easier. He was laying in yet another puddle of red. Eyes squeezed shut and limbs twitching.

-~*~-

Alastor was fourteen, he’s been having a wonderful week. Neither he nor his mother have set off his father, he scored excellently on his recent English essay, he’d finally mastered Bye Bye Blackbird on the piano in the local library, and, best of all, he finally got the job as an assistant at the local radio station. He’s smiling wide as he walks towards the front door. He opens it and sees red. So. Much. Red. 

His father is panting, hunched over what remains of his mother, the man holds an axe in his hands, organs are spilled out across the floor blood stains the walls and ceiling, and Alastor, Alastor is frozen, the smile his mother once adored stuck to his face like glue. He stands in that doorway for what could’ve been an eternity, expression locked in a horrified smile, just staring at the blood, at the axe, at the man, and at the corpse. Then the man turns around.

“About time you got home, mon petite bebe.” Alastor stumbles back. “Non non none of that. Come inside.” The man says brandishing the axe and suddenly all the rage in Alastor’s mind seems so attainable, his smile widens and he obeys.

When his father rushes at him he wraps his hands around the handle as well. The two end up spinning around and slipping in the red.His father is stronger but he is also propelled by blind rage, Alastor has been wanting to act on this for years. He manages to tear the axe from the man's hands and returns the favor. Slamming the axe into flesh over and over again. The sickening squelch of metal sinking into flesh, when the man's corpse hits the floor Alastor laughs and hits it again and again and again, tearing it into pieces, chunks of bone and organ litter the family room and Alastor pants as he stands above the two of them. 

He drops the axe and rushes to his mothers side, closing her eyes and prettying her up with his red red hands. He carefully rearranges her organs back into her body cavity. When he gets it as close to perfect as possible he grabs a towel and starts sopping up the blood. He wanted to dress her in her favorite dress, she deserved it. All the while he doesn’t spare even a glance towards his fathers corpse. The man didn’t deserve his respect.

-~*~-

Lucifer was getting bored. He didn’t care much for destruction. Like sure he got the appeal but it wasn’t his go to. He preferred cooking and baking, oh and rubber ducks, but who didn’t love rubber ducks, Lilith didn’t. There he goes again being sad for no reason. He keeps making finger guns and shooting out blasts of angelic energy.

“Pew pew pew! Hey where’s the guy, the blue guy with the uhhhh with the TV for a head? He made my daughter cry, I wanna talk to him! Come out, come out wherever you are!”

More screams, man Lucifer felt a little bad but his daughter wanted to rescue the bellhop so he’d do his part, besides it’s not like anyone was hurt, just terrified. Eventually though he gets his wish and a bolt of electricity shoots out from a broken TV and Vox ends up standing there crossing his arms.

“Oh my liege, the king of hell, you realize you could’ve just asked for an audience.” The TV demon sneers.

“Yeah but this is way more fun, don’t you agree?” Lucifer says and sends one bolt of magic into the air, a symbol to the teams to act.

“I’m certain it is, now what would you like to discuss.”

“Welllll a little birdy told me that you made my baby girl cry and what kinda dad would I be if I let that happen?”

“Oh my well it’s not my fault the truth about her hotel hurt her, give her my apologies.”

“TRUTH?!” Lucifer shouts, a burst of fire in escaping his lips, his eyes inverting and his horns growing from his head. “None of that was true!” 

“Is the king of hell, the first sin, Gods former favorite who is now despised by everyone lecturing me?! I’m simply a measly sinner, not the man who killed everyone.” 

Lucifer’s eyes widen and a pit of guilt grows in his stomach, the same pit that has been there for millennia, he swallows tears and glowers at Vox, all he has to do is distract him long enough for the girls to rescue the bellhop. He had to focus.

-~*~-

Lucifer is stumbling back from God, he is no longer a fledgling instead fully grown.

“Father I just wanted to help Lilith- I didn’t- I didn’t know that would happen! I didn’t know it could happen!”

“You have disappointed Me son.”

“Father plea-” He breaks into a scream as Michael slices off one of his wings.

“On your knees before the Father Pride, do not forget your place as a sin.”

“Michael please I’m your brother I’m Lu-”

“Do not say that name”

Hot tears pool in Lucifers and run down his cheeks as he sinks to his knees and stares up at his family, at his twin brother and his Father.

“Please Fa-”

Michael growls and grabs the collar of Lucifer's robes. Flying them into the air and slamming Lucifer into one of the marble pillars in heaven's courtroom.

“Do not! Lucifer has been killed and you wear his face! Do not refer to Father like that!”

“Michael please I-I am Lucif-” 

“I don’t know how long Lucifer let you fester inside him but it was traitorous! Luckily for him he’s forgivable.”

Michael shoves him harder against the pillar and Lucifer screams looking to his Father for help but God simply shakes his head and looks the other way, shame and terror curl in Lucifer’s chest and he lets out a sob. He hears a disgusted scoff and Michael drops him, Lucifer doesn’t even attempt to catch himself, simply letting his body crash onto the floor. Michael raises his sword again to chop off another wing.

“Michael,” God finally speaks, looking at His children, “stop.”

Lucifer looks up, a smile threatening to spread across his face.

“He has a punishment ahead of him far worse, and if there’s a chance that your brother is still in there despite Pride then you must be gentler to him.”

 Lucifer’s stomach drops, couldn’t Father tell it was still him? Or perhaps this was what he deserved, maybe this was even kindness from Father, one final blessing. 

-~*~-

Alastor groans and flattens his ears against his head, it was getting far too loud for his tastes, the sounds of scuffles getting closer to him and his cell. His less injured hand twitches towards his staff and he manages to grab it and pull it to his chest. The weight gives a strange comfort. He hopes everything quiets down soon.

He hears a strange scraping sound and he turns his head to look at the door which has the tip of an angelic spear peeking through the seam, strange, it almost looked like Vaggi’s spear. He closes his eyes again. The scraping continues, annoying, didn’t they know he was trying to regenerate. 

Then he hears a different, more grating scraping and alarmed cursing, he opens his eyes to see the door was moving, differently than usual, it was tipping towards him, strange. Wait, not strange, bad, very bad! He was going to be crushed and heaven knows how long regeneration from that would take. He tries to squirm out of the way, unfortunately when one's bones have been beaten into a powder it is not very easy to move. 

Luckily someone darts in, a short gray woman with a spear, she reminds him of Vaggi. Before he has time to fully put two and two together the door is shoved in the opposite direction where it falls to the floor. As Alastor begins to comprehend he’s being rescued he spots Charlie running away towards a window and shooting blasts of her powers out, signalling for someone.

Alastor looks at the two young women, more than a little confused about what's happening, normally he’s quick on the uptake he must be extremely injured. He wonders what will happen next.

-~*~-

Lucifer notices the rainbow fireworks coming from Vee tower, healing time, got it, wow he was a great dad!

“Well you have been a nightmare to talk to Box, but I have got to skedaddle, toodles.”

“It’s Vo- Wait what?!”

With one final wave Lucifer teleports to his daughter in a blaze of gilded fire, she leads him into a tiny, and ugly, cell that was stained with blood, it was sickening. Lucifer takes off his hat quickly and vomits into it. 

“Holy- holy shit that's- yeah that’s a lot of blood, s’that all from the bellhop.”

“Yes si- yes Lu. The blueprints say this hellhole is brand new.”

“Okay- okay yeah rescuing him was a good idea.” Lucifer reaches into his hat, which was a pocket dimension so his hand didn’t get covered in vomit, thank you very much.

He pulls out his medkit, which was just a small pencil pouch with a portal to a pocket dimension inside it. He opens it and takes out a pair of latex gloves, coral colored, of course, a curved needle and some suture, some rolls of bandages and of course a vial or two of angelic blood. Technically any kind of Angel flesh would heal just about anyone but blood was the easier to gather from himself and Lucifer wasn’t a monster so he wouldn’t harvest it from the fallen exorcists, though he would admit he felt the urge to.

Lucifer walks over to the bellhop's broken body, holy shit this was bad. He was broken and bruised with the telltale yellow sweat of a sinner regenerating from something particularly bad. His face was flushed red from fever, a quick sniff of the air reveals the scent of rotting blood and a deep infection. His antlers were broken, still covered in the velvet that they get during early growth and his limbs that had any semblance of bone structure were bent at odd angles, the rest looked to be devoid of any bones other than shards, this wasn’t gonna be easy.

The whole not easy thing only got worse when three figures burst in. A moth demon, a TV demon, and a doll demon. The Vees. Whatever their names were. Charlie jumps into a fighting pose. However Vaggi thinks quicker, grabbing the woman around the waist and tugging her back over to Alastor and Lucifer, grabbing Lucifer’s arm as Charlie catches on and grabs Alastors hand, Lucifer snaps and in a blast of gilded fire the four of them teleport to the…Palace of Pride. Whoopsies! He’d been aiming for the hotel and panicked. 

“Oh jeez, sorry I meant the hotel but-“

“It’s fine Lu, let’s get Alastor taken care of though.”

“Too close! To fucking close!” Charlie exclaims but picks up the bellhops, thankfully unconscious now, body and carries him into the nearest bedroom.

Chapter Text

Alastor was beginning to wake up, had been for a while, blinking in and out. He’s been having flickers of sensation. The scent of apples, soft fabric against his skin, the taste of broth, but what he remembers most vividly are the nightmares.

He cannot sleep without a dark vision tormenting him. Memories mainly. Of his father, of his mothers death, of her suffering, and of his time with Vox. In many of his dreams the two men combine into one interchangeable monster. His mind drifts when he’s lost in the darkness in between the nightmares he wonders if his victims felt the same. Perhaps.

The first time he saw so much red torments him. He misses his mother dearly. He hopes she’s enjoying herself in heaven. But any other vision of red brings him a deep sense of pride. Perhaps he was a monster but he had only slaughtered those who deserved it, at least he’d determined they’d deserved it, he imagined not everyone would agree, though those who didn’t were fools.

He shifts as light starts blaring through his eyelids, he can hear the silky sheets rubbing against each other. He can hear voices though he’s not present enough to make out what they’re saying. He feels a warm hand rub comfortingly through his hair.

He fades again and is faintly aware of a few things. The scent of roses. The taste and texture of human blood. The sound of shouting in Husker’s voice. The feeling of a sponge brushing over his body, hands running through his hair while it was wet, a spoon trying to push past his lips.

-~*~-

Alastor was out of breath, he’d ran from the scene, from the gore, forcing the smile to finally drop from his face. He was still covered in blood shaking and he allowed the pain and tears that he had kept inside for so long, overflow. He sinks to the ground just outside of town and curls up sobbing. Maman was gone, pere was taken care of, and he was all alone.

He’d made a plan after the blood bath, he’d run to town, play innocent, claim they were like that when he returned from school, that he’d tried to save his parents before realizing they were too far gone and running for help. He was a small enough and good enough kid he knew they’d eat it out of his hand even if he was creole, he was white passing after all, and it’s not entirely a lie. He had returned from school to find maman dead. Though all of the emotions had just hit him now.

Alastor isn’t sure how long he’s curled up sobbing and covered in blood by the street before someone notices him, and screams, he jolts and looks up at them, glasses crooked and broken and stained with blood, the world more than a little blurry.

“A-Alastor?” The woman asks as she kneels in front of him, Alastor recognizes that voice, his English teacher. Perfect, she already adored him, and he had allowed himself to be vulnerable before, he could do this.

He responds with a choked sob as he wipes blood from his face with an equally bloody hand. “Mrs. Warren?” He stammers.

“Oh dear boy what happened?”

He’s half certain he’s going to be sick, his fathers death was a blessing but his mothers was something entirely different. He only manages to whimper again as she gently wipes a handkerchief over his face to clear it of some of the blood.

“I returned from school and-” his voice breaks and he has to suck in a deep breath before continuing, “-and Mother and Father were-were-”

He has no reason to explain further as a horrified expression crosses the woman's face. “Oh-Oh God” she whispers this but shakes her head and pulls Alastor's shaking form into a hug. “We must get you to the station house. This must be reported.”

Alastor simply nods but makes no move towards standing or walking, simply sinking into her. Despite his heart break he is calculating, he’s near certain he won’t be considered as a suspect but in the case that he is he knows most of the town would come to his aid. He’s well known, and beloved by most.

Grace Warren sighs and scoops the sobbing bloodied teenager into her arms, carrying him bridal style. Alastor notes that she's shockingly strong. His eyes flutter shut and he allows her to carry him to the station house, tears carving through the dried blood on his cheeks the entire time. He drifts in and out of consciousness the whole time though he’s keenly aware of whispers and stares they receive. He doesn’t care. He just wants to sleep.

When they arrive at the station house Mrs. Warren has a whispered conversation with a police officer which Alastor listens in on.

“Who’s your officer who’s best with kids? I-I found him bloodied and traumatized by the road, it seems he ran all the way there before collapsing. He returned home to find his parents murdered.” Grace begins in a rushed whisper.

“Murdered? I’ll send some officers to, where exactly?” Responds the paper pushing officer.

“The Hartfelts. They live, lived, I suppose, in a small cottage just out of town, near all the wood lots.”

“And what of the boy?”

“Whatever do you mean ‘what of the boy’?”

“He needs a guardian and a roof over his head surely.”

“Well naturally but can that not wait, he’s too fragile for discussions of uprooting his life to begin, besides he needs to be asked questions so the murderer may be brought to justice, correct?”

“Naturally.”

Alastor tunes them out when they begin to discuss who exactly will interview him as he determines his answers to the questions he’s likely to be asked. Eventually a decision is made but before he can be interviewed a wash basin is brought out and he’s set down onto a bench. Mrs. Warren dips a cloth into the cool water and wipes the blood from his face and hands as best she can. A few minutes later an older man in uniform walks out and kneels before Alastor.

“Hey there chum, you feel up to answering a few questions?”

Alastor nods, unsure if he can vocalize anything as he watches a few officers rush out the front doors of the station house, carrying boards and white sheets. He turns to look at the officer, his expression nearly blank, completely different from the worried and sympathetic stares he was receiving, as the man begins to ask questions.

“What did you see when you got home from school?”

“Red.” The single word is all Alastor manages to stammer out before his voice cracks and the tears he thought he’d ran out of hours ago begin to roll down his face again.

“Did you notice anything unusual at home?”

“Red.” Alastor stammers again.

“Yes, other than the red.”

“Maman used to keep the house so clean.” He whispers.

“So they fought back, hey that's good kid, your parents were fighters, so are you.”

Alastor doesn’t respond to that.

“Did you do anything unusual today?”

“I came home late, as I was walking down the path by the woodlots I heard a bird singing in the bayou and I wanted to memorize the tune so that I could play it on the piano in the library."

“Have you noticed anything unusual around the house lately?”

“No, no, maybe, I-I don’t know.”

“That’s okay”

This cycle continues for a while, Alastor sticks mainly to the truth, only changing small details like the time he arrived home to keep himself innocent. Eventually the man is satisfied and he gives Alastor a pat on the back and ruffles his hair.

“When the officers get back from your house you can head back to pick up some of your belongings. We’ll try to figure out where you’re gonna stay until then.”

Alastor nods and stares silently at his lap, he wants to throw out every piece of clothing he’d worn today as soon as possible. Eventually the group of officers return, now carrying the boards, like stretchers, the sheets were being slowly stained red by the gore they were trying to hide. The group also held a few plastic bags that contained whatever wasn't in the bodies. He doubles over and vomits down his shirt, feeling faint.

He had handled the gore so well in the moment, what was happening to him now? He can hear Mrs. Warren gasp in alarm, he feels her using her handkerchief to wipe the vomit from his chin, but he feels like he’s underwater. The officer who had questioned him earlier steps out and returns a few minutes later with a small folded up uniform.

“Come on chum, it’s about time we get you cleaned up huh?”

Alastor doesn’t respond but follows the man as he leads him into the washroom of the station house. Alastor sits on the stool he’s directed too and remains still as stone while the man strips and cleans him. Alastor shivers and sways slightly, he was naked and covered in a thin layer of water. The officer redresses Alastor in the uniform, it's too large for Alastor but it will do for now. When they leave the room another officer walks in and collects Alastor's soiled clothes, evidence likely. He doesn’t react, his bare feet softly padding against the wood floors of the station house as he’s led back to the main room where Mrs. Warren seemed to be arguing with the officer at the front desk.

“I said no such thing!” She exclaims.

“Why do you want custody over the boy?”

“Once again I believe jumping through all those legal hoops would be far too stressful for him, I simply want to offer him bed and board!”

“Get custody then.”

“I’m certain there’s another solution that doesn’t put this child through more trauma!”

Alastor tunes them out again and sits back down on the bench he’d been questioned on, hair still wet, water droplets dripping down his face. He watches numbly as the other officer joins the argument. He slumps against the wall, eventually Mrs. Warren returns to his side and offers a hand.

“You’re gonna stay with me for a bit, Alastor.” She says with a smile. “I’m taking you home, we can get you your belongings from your old house tomorrow.” Alastor nods and takes her hand and lets her help him stand.

The two of them exit the station house hand in hand. The sunset is sickenly beautiful, the watercolor fire bleeding into itself yet still caressed by soft clouds. Inappropriate for the blood still drying in the Hartfelt cottage. The streets of Saint Bernadine * are crowded at this time, people Alastor knew, both in passing and people he had deep relationships with. He stares at his feet as Grace Warren leads him towards her home. Occasionally stumbling over the too long pant legs or his bare feet. He’s pretty sure he’s still shaking.

He can hear whispers and gasps, feels eyes on him and the crushing weight of judgment. He squeezes his eyes shut, which quickly proves to be a mistake as he trips over himself, falling to the ground his stomach drops before a pair of arms wrap around his stomach and he’s scooped up into Mrs. Warren's arms again. He balls his hands into fists in the fabric of her dress and buries his face in her neck as more stubborn tears leak from his eyes.

-~*~-

Lucifer was currently in charge of taking care of the bellhop, apparently the Vee’s had attacked the hotel, thinking Alastor was there. Charlie and the others had run off to minimize damage and rescue anyone who was in danger. Which left Lucifer with the unpleasant task of taking care of the deer demon. He pulls on his latex gloves, which are a very pretty shade of coral and if you said it was pink you were colorblind. But men could wear pink, he was the devil, not some asshole misogynist.

He pulls the blankets down to the man’s waist and cuts the bandage off and ew. Oh ew. Lucifer stands up and walks over to the trash can before hurling. He didn’t have a weak stomach, okay maybe a little bit, but infection really got him. No wonder the deer's face was contorted, sweaty, and red. He’d likely gone septic. Shit Lucifer was usually a better nurse, but well he did hate Red Guy so could you blame him?

Once he finishes puking his guts out he returns to the sinner’s side and finishes cutting off the bandages, which had a, less than, healthy coating of pus and blood. He sucks in a deep breath, which was a mistake, infection isn’t a nice scent, oooo he needs candles!

He snaps his fingers and a handful of candles appear throughout the room, his favorites, lavender and pumpkin spice. He flicks his wrists and sends a bolt of fire snaking through the room, it lights each candle and pitters out. Why’d he light those candles again? Oh shit right the bellhop! He did not want Red Guy bleeding out on his sheets.

Lucifer looks back at the man’s chest, the fur from his deerlike demonic form has been shaved to get closer to the wound, his chest was covered in a sheen of sweat and pus. When he looks at the wound it’s red and inflamed around the edges, the stitches tense. He cuts the stitches. The wound is deep, still rimmed with the golden sparks of a wound from angelic steel, a gift from the last extermination when the sinner attempted to fight off Adam by himself.

He grabs a wet towel and gently rubs it across the sinner’s chest to clean it. When all the pus and sweat have been wiped off he wipes the area around the wound with an alcohol wipe. When the bellhop tenses Lucifer snaps his finger and gilded chains spring from the floor and trap the man on the bed. Lucifer wasn’t a fan of this power, it was a reminder of his punishment, but it could be convenient at times.

When the bellhop has been restrained and cleaned he grabs a hollow needle and carefully pierces into the infected tissue. He spends the next half hour or so slowly draining the infection from the pustules while the bellhop writhes. He takes off his gloves and wipes the sweat from his forehead as he disposes of the final needle into the bag, he drops his gloves in there too, snapping his fingers to summon another pair that he pulls on. He carefully applies pressure all around the wound satisfied when no more pus comes out. He grabs a vial of his blood and slowly pours it over the wound, sure traditional healing was great and all but nothing heals anything faster than angel blood, the higher the angel the faster the healing, he’d never complain about being an archangel. Then he grabs a curved needle and some surgical suture and begins to sew the laceration shut.

As he sews he hums a jazz song softly to himself, jazz wasn’t his favorite genre but he liked a few, while he hums absentmindedly he notices a second voice joining in. The bellhop was humming long, evidently this was a song he knew. The two hum together softly which eventually lulls the bellhop to sleep. Thank goodness his writhing was making it harder to take care of his wounds.

When he’s finished sewing the wound shut he grabs a roll of bandages and cuts off a length of about three feet and wraps it around the deer's chest. He hums and pulls the blankets up to the man's chin and sits beside him, slowly carding his fingers through the red hair. Lucifer thought it was a shame the man straightened his hair, it was much softer and better looking in its natural curly state.

-~*~-

Lucifer was falling, had been for a while now, his wings had been torn off, his back stained gold, his halo flickering and cracking. Lilith clung to him tightly but he was only faintly aware.

He lands, hard, the hard ground of hell cracking from the impact of the two bodies slamming into it. He hacks up more of his ichor and curls in on himself, weeping. With shaking bloodied hands he pulls off his halo, wanting to look at a visage of his Father once more, for a moment he stares into it before its cracks spread and shatter the halo and another broken sob bursts through his lips. He curls in on himself, his wing stumps twitching. He’s certain he could spend an eternity bawling. How had he ruined everything he cared about, he was an archangel he was supposed to be better than that. Wait, was he an archangel anymore? Father has cast him aside. What was he now? A beast? A sin? A monster?

Before he drowns in self pity the figure beside him shifts and staggers to her feet. Despite the fall Lilith still looked radiant, albeit slightly bloodied, her red blood staining her temple. Her long blond hair cascaded down her tall pale form. Lucifer is awed, always is when he sees her. He loves her, it's true but he has lost so much because of decisions motivated by her. His breath hitches and he bursts into another sob.

“Get up.”

“W-what?!”

“You heard me. Get. Up.” After she says this she sighs and crouches down to where Lucifer was crumpled in on himself and pulls his chin into her hands, using her thumbs to brush the tears away.

“I know it’s hard, but you can’t just sit here feeling sorry for yourself. This is our realm now, let’s make it ours!” Lilith’s eyes sparkle and that wonderful smile spreads across her lips. Lucifer allows her to help him to his feet, he’s shaky, he leans on her, his head barely reaching her chest.

They walk through the desolate landscape of hell for a while, eventually they find what Lilith declares a suitable spot, though to Lucifer it all looks the same. To Lilith's delight Lucifer has regained at least some of his powers and he manages to conjure up some supplies, the two make a small cottage there. Once the building has been completed he crawls into the bed, the sheets rough against his skin and lays there silently, unable to cry anymore.

-~*~-

“Holy shit!” Charlie shouts as she ducks under a bolt of electricity. The hotel was wrecked, the only thing they had a chance of saving were the people and pets.

Vaggi flies through the room, picking up stragglers along the way and getting them to their feet before rushing off to help others. Angel Dust had his demon pig, Fat Nuggets, in his arms, the pig was panicking, oinking and kicking the spider demon with its hooves. Cherri Bomb had one of the late Sir Pentious’s Egg Boys in her arms, the creature was weeping into her shoulder as she attempted to comfort it, sprinting through the rubble to try and get out. Razzle, the demon goat, was bleating loudly from where he stood on a pile of rubble, seemingly forgetting about his wings. Keekee the demon cat had tackled the angler fish demon Baxter, she had decided that he was the perfect person to comfort him. The short cyclops, Niffty, was frantically running around looking for her roaches.

Charlie coughs as another bolt of electricity hits the hotel, sending a chunk of ceiling spiraling to the floor and flinging up the cloud of the dust that had been beginning to settle. She staggers to her feet to see that everyone seemed safe, if she could just get Vox to leave the hotel alone they could grab whatever stuff survived the assault and go back to the Palace of Pride, which was out of Sin City so Vox couldn’t follow them there.

-~*~-

Velvette was pissed at Vox, par for the course she supposed. Alastor had gotten rescued, finally, and instead of moving on and going back to normal Vox lost his fucking shit. Just a few weeks after his whole ‘out brand is perfection’ speech too. She sighs and storms into Valentino’s studio.

“Uh hey what the fuck Vel I’m filming!”

“Yeah well V’s out there throwing a goddamn temper tantrum and it’s our problem now. Get your ass up and take me to him!”

“I can’t leave in the middle of a shoot! It’ll compromise the integrity of the film!”

“Nobody cares about the quality of anything in your stupid pornos Val!”

“Ugh, fine!”

Velvette lets the moth demon pick her up, she was a third his height, maximum, and also had no way to teleport or fly. He wraps his four arms around her as she taps away on her phone, trying to hack into Vox’s systems, key word trying. He opens the window with a spare hand and jumps out, flapping his large red wings and taking the two of them across Sin City towards the wreckage of the Hazbin Hotel where Vox was making a fool of himself.

From above she catches a glance of Vox. The TV demon was in his demonic form, about twice his average size, his TV head was all static except for his face, his cables spread across the rubble as he threatened the residents, who mainly seemed to be concerned with rescuing various pets. She snaps a few selfies and posts them with the hashtag ‘babysittingvox’ Valentino uses a free hand to give her bunny ears in one, cute!

Eventually Valentino starts circling and lands a few feet away from Vox who hadn’t noticed them. Velvette hops from his arms and begins walking over to Vox, dodging cables, bolts of electricity, and rubble.

“Oi you cunt!” She shouts, flicking a burst of purple energy at the raging TV demon.

“Voxxxyyyy~” Valentino calls out, circling around the demon.

“Calm the fuck down!”

“Come back to me!”

As she looks through the scene she spots the small blue frame of one of Vox’s employees, Baxter, he was smart right? Good as anything else. Valentino continues to dirty talk Vox to try and calm him down while Velvette runs through the disaster towards the anglerfish demon. She uses her small size to avoid the flying rubble and electricity blasts.

Now don’t get her wrong, she didn’t like the stupid hotel. But Vox was embarrassing her. And she didn’t have to put up with that.

“Baxter!” She shouts as she clears a pile of rubble and flicks her wrist to shield herself with a purple bubble.

“Ms. Velvette?! Whatever are you doing here?!”

“Ending Vox’s BITCH ASS temper tantrum. You’re good with tech aren’t you?”

“Good with tech?! Ma’am I am the best with tech! What do you need me to do?”

“End this.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

“What why?!”

“If I am to hack Vox I need access to his servers. Which are at Vee tower.”

“Shit!”

Velvette racks her brain, neither she nor Baxter could teleport or fly, there’s no way they could run through half of pentagram city fast enough and her two main rides, Vox, who could teleport, and Valentino, who could fly, were a little preoccupied. Think Velvette, think! She’s the smartest of the Vee’s, surely she could think of something. Oh she got it, she was a genius! A resident of the hotel likely had the ability to fly or teleport.

“Can anyone here fly or teleport?”

“Ah yes! Husk had wings and can fly, as does Vaggi. Though I am unsure if the princess can teleport like her f-“

“Okay, who’s most likely to fly us?”

“Vaggi is busy.” As Baxter states this Velvette sees the fallen Angel leap from a pile of rubble and fly at Vox wielding her spear, fearsome, hot. FOCUS VELVETTE!

“So Husk then?”

“I suppose, though Alastor owns his soul so I don’t know if he’ll be able to help a Vee.”

“Nonsense, Alastor only hates Vox and Val, he has good taste and adores me. When all the dust settles we’re going out to Rosie’s Emporium to gossip.”

“That’s…nice ma’am?”

“I know, c’mon let’s go!”

Baxter yelps as she picks up the, only slightly shorter, angler fish demon and sprints in the direction of husk. His form was unlike anything she’d ever seen and she had to admit she liked it. He was a cat demon with wings, though the symbols of card suits on his paws and wings made it clear he was a gambler demon, it had the sort of theming she appreciated. She’d fought him once before on Vox’s behalf, and she’d won, obviously, but the man was strong. She had to admit.

“Husk!” Baxter shouts from her arms and waved the man over.

“What the shit is happening?!”

Before Baxter can answer Velvette cuts in. “We need your help to end Vox’s temper tantrum, fly us to Vee tower!”

“I ain’t your pet!”

“Do you want to be slowly and painfully crushed to death!”

“Bitch fine!” And with that he takes Velvette into one arm, Baxter in the other and flys the three of them to Vee tower.

The three of them run through the halls eventually ending up in the server room. Baxter sits on the floor and whips out a laptop, he gets to work on coding or programming stuff Velvette doesn’t bother to understand. She ends up sitting down against another wall of servers and brushing the dust off of herself, sure she should just snap and change her clothes but she likes this outfit. She’s going through the effort to clean it up at least a little bit, she’ll put them through the actual wash later. When the disaster has been averted and Vox is back under control.

-~*~-

Charlie wraps her arms around Vaggi as the woman curls in on herself, she’d take a nasty hit to the side, ichor was dripping from her body. Having been an exorcist she was planning on walking it off. Charlie wouldn’t have it.

“Char, you know I love you, and I know you love me. So let me go!”

“Absolutely not! Alastor has already almost bled out, we can’t lose you too!”

“Babe I’m fi-“ Vaggi’s protest is cut off as the still rampaging Vox suddenly stiffens and collapses, almost crushing Valentino in the process. Before Charlie can begin to question what happened she can hear Valentino panicking.

“Hey heyyyy~~~ baby- baby! Telequito- vox! VOX!” The man shouts and raves at the unconscious body.

Then Husk flies in through a hole in the ceiling, carrying Baxter and Velvette. Charlie gasps and waves them over, with the hand she’s not using to apply pressure to Vaggi's wound.

“Did you do that?!”

“It wasn’t a favor to you princess. Vox was making a fool of us. Can’t have that. Valentino’s throwing a fit. We’re leaving.” And with that the doll demon forces her way out of Husks arms and storms off.

Husk unceremoniously drops Baxter who huffs and crosses his arms. Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb, and Niffty run over. Niffty helps Baxter up and kisses his cheek, the two suddenly blushing and looking away from each other. Vaggi presses a hand of Charlie’s mouth quickly to stifle the ‘awwww’ sound Charlie makes.

“Oh shit, did Vaggi get ‘urt?” Angel Dust asks and kneels down. Checking out the ex-exorcists wounds while she huffs incredulously. He tuts and creates some silk with his spinnerets, which, thankfully, were in his wrists, like some guy called Spiderman, and not where spinnerets were on real spiders. ** He spreads the silk over the wound, the makeshift bandage will do until they return to the Palace of Pride and Lucifer can actually treat the wound.

Once Vaggi has a bandage on her wound Charlie releases her and pops open the vial of ink mixed with some angel blood, her dads. Yeah she didn’t like it but she got her moms powers, she needed rituals for her dads, though most people needed one hundred percent angel blood so at least she had that. She dips a claw into it and slowly starts etching the mix of angelic and demonic sigils on the wall, finishing it with the careful circle and star. She pricks her wrists with the same claw, collecting one drop of her blood and pressing it neatly into the center of the runes. It takes a minute as the magic flares, a bright golden flame etches across the entire design. It tenses and pulls from a second before flaring in a burst of light and heat, when her vision has cleared there’s a gilded portal emitting red light where the sigils had been.

Angel Dust, carrying a very disgruntled Vaggi steps through first, he then sticks his head back through. “Ya got it right, start passin’ whatever's salvageable through.” He says with a smile. Cherri moves first, passing Fat Nuggets through followed shortly by Frank the Egg Boy.

“Angel is-is Vaggi okay?”

“Yeah, your dad was waiting for us, he took ‘er to his study or something.” While he says this Cherri passes the final pet through the portal.

“Good!” Charlie says as she begins passing the armfuls of whatever was salvageable.

The group falls into a steady silence as they pass whatever remained after the destruction through the portal, it wasn’t much, odd bits and bobs, some clothes, weapons, knick-knacks. Charlie passes through an armful of Alastor’s stuff, his broken staff, some clothes that would need to be cleaned, a strange crown of roaches that Niffty made.

“The hell?! Actually why am I questionin’ hi,. He’s fuckin’ crazy this isn’t that surpising.’

Husk laughs at that as he passes a crate filled with booze through. Eventually they’ve gotten everything that was salvageable and everyone through. Charlie ushers everyone through the portal, turns around to do a once over of the hotel and follows them through, the portal closing behind her. When she steps through she sees Niffty carrying Baxter bridal style as she runs through the palace, taking whatever they managed to salvage to the correct rooms. Baxter is directing her as she runs wildly. Angel Dust is standing with all four hands on his hips as he talks with Husk and Cherri. Angel Dust points her towards where her father took Vaggi.

“Thanks Angel!”

“Yeah yeah, it’s nothin’.”

Charlies waves them goodbye and runs off to find her father and girlfriend.

-~*~-

Charlie was three, toddling through the large empty halls of the Palace of Pride, she had a nightmare about angelic legions and wanted to find someone to comfort her. She crawls down the stairs, just to be safe. The ceilings towered over her head. She walks towards her parents bedroom but before she can reach their door she can hear the yelling. She’s used to it now and huffs, sitting cross legged on the floor and listening.

“Lucifer you idiot!”

“How is this my fault?! I had no way of knowing Satan wo-“

“I see why your father got rid of you.”

“What- Lilith- Lilith we agreed you couldn’t say that!”

“Maybe I’ll tear your wings off, you’ve gotten to cocky since they’ve regrown!”

“Shut your mouth!”

“You forget your place. You’d still be weeping in that crater if it weren’t for me!”

“You would be queen of nothing if it weren’t for me!”

A sharp sound echoes through the air and Charlie can hear her fathers pained gasp.

“Oh- oh Lulu I’m so sorry, I just get angry sometimes and can’t control myself dear- you know I love you.”

“I love you too, Lils.”

Charlie’s certain the conversation continues but she doesn’t know for sure as she drifts off to sleep to the sounds of her parents professing their love for each other. Her head lolling to the side and her body slumping to the floor.

-~*~-

Healing Charlie’s girlfriend, Vaggi, that’s her name, was a nightmare, not that the wound was bad, or that her biology was any different than anything he’s worked with. The woman however was stubborn as a mule and quite certain she could walk off the five inch long and half an inch deep laceration down her side. *** If the other exorcists were at all like her, well let’s just say Lucifer pitied Raphae. A lot. Healing wasn’t easy but healing an army of stubborn exorcists, that was something he didn’t wish on anyone.

He groans as Vaggi refuses the painkiller again. “Listen I know you’re tough, I don’t doubt that but stitches hurt like hellfire, are you sure you don’t want painkillers?”

“Sir I assure you I’m fine, but if you must stitch me up then no I don’t want painkillers I can take this. I’ve had worse. Please just hurry up so I can go help.”

“Fine, fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” As he says this he threads the suture on the curved needle slowly and carefully begins to sew the laceration shut, Vaggi stiffens but doesn’t fight, her hands balling into fists in the fabric of the cushions of the chaise. But she doesn’t cry out, which is impressive.

“Alright all sewed up time to bandage ya up!” Vaggie sighs in response and lifts her arms over her head so Lucifer can wrap the bandage around her midsection, once finished he taps his lips with a free finger, humming softly. Yup, it’s fantastic, Father he was great at healing! He hadn’t gotten this much repeated practice in a while, now that Vaggi was bandaged up he should probably return to the bellhop. His injuries were quite severe.

Lucifer would never admit it out loud since he and bellhop kinda had a whole enemies thing going on. But honestly he wasn’t that insufferable. Besides, he enjoyed fighting with the demon. It was fun. He liked the bickering and the occasional sing and dance off. He liked to argue with Red Guy. He liked to tease him and be teased by him. He loved their friendship. Because that’s all it was. He was sure. Right? His cheeks flush golden and he shakes his head, focus. Red Guy probably needs to be patched up.

“Alrighty Vaggi you’re all patched up. When the stitches fall out in maybe a week or so you’ll be all better, till then no running, no fighting, no flying. I know it’s sucky but we can’t have ya tearing out your stitches now can we?”

“No sir, thank you. I’m going to find Charlie.”

“If she asks about me I’m gonna be with Red Guy.”

“With Alastor, gotcha sir!”

With that the two split ways, Vaggi going back the way Lucifer carried her to help out whatever they managed to salvage from the hotel. Lucifer walking through his palace towards the bellhops quarters. On his way the small cyclops sprints past him, she was carrying the blue fish demon bridal style, in his lap there was a box full of Alastor’s belongings, while he was holding a tablet with a map of the palace and directing her towards Alastor’s room. He stifles a laugh and follows behind them.

When they reach the door he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his key ring, not every door had a lock, he custom made all of them, but he knew Alastor would like his privacy. He flicks through the keys until he finds the red one with the radio themed engravings. He slips the key into the lock and turns it, opening the door and letting the bug demoness into the room. Baxter shifts the box onto the floor, and waved goodbye to Alastor as Niffty sprints from the room to help more. Lucifer closes the door behind her before walking back over to the unconscious demon.

Alastor's face was still streaked with sweat, his face flushed, Lucifer cards a hand through the man’s hair, greasy, perhaps it was time for another sponge bath. The blankets were gathered at the man’s waist, showing his chest and the bandages wrapped around it, the bandages were still the clean white so they didn’t need to be changed. Though frankly the man reeked of sweat and sick. He’d been running a septic fever for nearly a month now with occasional sponge baths being the only thing to keep him clean.

Lucifer tuts and walks into the connected bathroom, filling a metal basin with warm soapy water before carrying the big thing back into the bedroom. He uncovers Alastor fully. The man wore simply a pair of boxers typical for the 1920s, Lucifer was sure the man would be displeased with being seen like this, however at the start they’d tried dressing him in a nightshirt but it kept catching on the bandages and tearing stitches. Lucifer hums softly. He didn’t want to violate the demon's privacy more than he already had so the sponge bath wouldn’t fully clean him. But it was good enough. He dips a soft cloth into the basin and twists it to get the majority of the water out before he begins to softly run into over Alastors body.

Alastor lets out soft baby deer squeaks throughout the process, seemingly slightly alarmed. Luciger didn’t know it was possible for the man to be so cute. The deer’s ears and tail were twitching anxiously, what could Lucifer do to fix that. He snaps his fingers, both a physical expression of him having an idea and a physical representation so his magic would know what to do. His phonograph appears in the window sill and he snaps again to get his records. He flicks through them with magic and ends up sending a long soothing set of jazz songs over. When the music begins to play Alastor visibly settles, calmed by the sounds.

With Alastor being calmed Lucifer was able to return to his duty, slowly rubbing the cloth down the man’s legs, he carefully polishes the hooves. Well maybe that’s not entirely true, he wasn’t careful at the start and pricked his finger on one of the man’s exceptionally sharp sew claws, did the man sharpen them? This was obscene! He snaps to get a vial and collects the blood until it clots on his finger and snaps again for a bandage, for sanitary reasons. Definitely because much like a toddler a patterned bandage would make him forget all about his booboos, obviously, he was the devil not some lame kid.

Now that he’d, not so narrowly, avoided not one but two whole disasters, he was on a roll today, he finally set out to clean the deer. He begins, for the third time, by polishing the man’s bright red hooves. They were really beautiful, just like the rest of Alastor and especially Alastor's eyes and- nope! Nope! Lucifer was, probably, still married. But divorce wasn’t totally out of the picture. Nope! Alastor probably didn’t even like him back. Wait back?! Did he, did he have a crush on the deer demon?! Lucifer freezes with his hand holding the cloth to Alastor’s left calf. His cheeks flush a bright gold and his chest rising and falling faster than he’d like. He swallows his panic and does what he always does, shoves the problem into a tiny little box in his brain, says he’ll get to it later, and never gets to it. Easy Peasy! Now back to the task at hand

Cleaning the deer demon was a surprisingly meditative task, he hums along to the jazz on the phonograph and slowly carefully cleans the man, brushing the cloth over vomit, sweat, and blood stains on the man’s skin, he lingers longer than he should on the scars that mar the deer as well.

He can recognize all kinds of scars and what caused them at this point, perks of both being the literal devil and also a healer. He recognizes some as what came from childhood accidents, faded and almost gone, he recognizes others as natural accidents from the man being as violent as he was. But a few still his hand, scars he knows are from childhood but were clearly intentional. He doesn’t know what this says about the deer's past, and he’s not certain he wants to know what it says either.

He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus as he wipes down the bellhop's body. The man had lost weight since his initial capture, though he’d thankfully started gaining some of it back in recovery. Lucifer rolls the deer demon over to his stomach so he can clean his back. Alastor whimpers when the cool cloth brushes over the small of his back, Lucifer tuts and dips the cloth back into the basin, to get it warm again.

-~*~-

Lucifer flits around the foundations of the Palace of Pride, making sure they’re stable before he continues building it. Lilith had insisted they have one, being the king and queen of hell they needed someplace suitable to live. Besides the other sins had palaces so they certainly needed one. His wings had regrown some into the downy wings fledgelings have, he was just so grateful to be able to fly again.

When he’s finished with the checks he appears beside Lilith and smiles at her, stretching out his wings for a second before snapping to create some more materials. Over the next year or so they finish construction with the help of the sins and walk hand in hand towards the newly constructed, and quite intimidating, throne room.

“It’s beautiful Lilith.”

“Of course it is, you followed my instructions, correct?”

“Indeed I did.”

Lilith scoops Lucifer from his feet and holds the fallen angel bridal style as she kisses him. Lucifer leans into her and kisses her back.

-~*~-

Alastor was cold. In particular his back was. Not to mention the fact that he was face down into a pillow, he was certain he’d suffocate soon. Though the jazz music in the background was certainly comforting, and he wouldn’t complain about whoever was washing him off. Their hands moved softly over his skin. Though he would admit the scent of the room was entirely despicable, fall spices mixed with lavender and the faint scent of apples.

Eventually the cloth finishes wiping down his back and a pair of small, yet strong, arms wrap around his torso and roll him over. His eyes flutter open, though without his monocle the vision in his left eye is blurry which gives him a headache, he closes that eye and his vision focuses on his caregiver. Lucifer beams down at him.

Alastor jolts and wriggles in terror, the king hates him, and for good reason. Alastor was very uncordial to him when they had been introduced. The king was certainly doing this with ulterior motives and Alastor had only been so helpless at the hands of another once before, his father. Terror runs through every pore of his body, nausea rising in his stomach, bile in his throat, his ears instinctively pressing against his head. Small squeaks of terror escape his lips but they’re quieted by Lucifer's hands running through his hair. Softly, comfortingly, like his maman used to when he was a boy.

Then the man slides Alastor's body so his head is half laying off the bed and dips his hair, just his hair, into warm soapy water. The man works quietly and methodically to untangle Alastor's knotted strands. It’s a warm feeling that comforts him. Eventually the man takes a towel to his head and dries off Alastor's hair and lays him back on the bed.

“Listen Al I know you have no reason to trust me but I promise I have no ill will towards you.” While he says this the man covers Alastor with the blankets again.

“Why?” Alastor croaks out, voice hoarse from disuse, the both of them flinch at the voice crack.

“Beacuse I’ve learned some things lately, and maybe, just maybe, I don’t actually hate you.”

Alastor is quiet, thinking about the vulnerability the devil himself has just shown and he softens his smile. His hand twitches. He had meant to reach out to take Lucifer’s hand, he had not done that. Lucifer smiles and runs his hand over Alastor's eyes, closing them like one would with a toddler who claims that they aren’t tired. Much to Alastor's chagrin it is more successful than it would have been with the toddler and he is immediately struggling to stay awake. He drifts off before he realizes it.

-~*~-

Alastor has been adjusting to his new life. Mrs. and Mr. Warren had been very kind, Mrs. Warren had stayed true to her word and helped Alastor pick up some of his belongings from the now abandoned Hartfelt cottage. Mr. Warren has a trip planned to New Orleans in a few days to get Alastor to the optometrist so he can get new glasses. Alastor is quiet. He doesn’t talk much. He attends school and work, tries his hardest at those, but by the time he returns back to the Warren’s home he simply throws himself into bed and waits for dinner time. He attends, says grace, eats as much as he can stomach and crawls back into bed. Many times he’s caught Mrs. or Mr. Warren staring at him with a worried expression when they think he’s asleep or not looking.

He wraps his hands around the small jewelry box his mother kept. She’d been saving her jewelry so she and Alastor could run away and pawn it. That never ended up happening. He flicks open the lid staring at the glittering objects within, not daring to touch them, his mother would be the last person to touch any of these if he had his way. A knock at the door startles him.

“Come in.”

Mrs. Warren sticks her head in with the same worried smile she always wears. She walks in and sits down beside Alastor on the bed.

“Me and Albert are going out for dinner tonight, would you like to come? There will be food left for you if not, but we think it might be good for you.”

Alastor is quiet as he thinks about it, he does not particularly wish to go out in public more than necessary however he did not want to come off as ungrateful.

“I can try?”

“Thank you my dear.”

Alastor smiles softly in response and looks back into the jewelry box, perhaps this is what maman would want from him?