An Apple a Day - GallifreyGryffindorGirl (2024)

Chapter 1: The Invitation

Chapter Text

Husker wasn’t entirely certain, and truth be told he had no desire to find out for sure, but he was utterly convinced that the phrase ‘pour your heart out’ came from the penchant people had to tell their woes to whomever happened to be pouring their drinks. This little fact was especially true of the patrons at the Hazbin Hotel lately.

Oh, if there was ever a thing to know about then the world weary cat-demon probably knew it, whether he wanted to or not. He knew Valentino was giving Angel Dust worse sh*t than usual since the battle with heaven, really pressing the p*rn star in an attempt to get him to move back to the studio (and back under this thumb, Husk bet) under the guise of ‘safety’. He knew about Vaggie’s break-up with Charlie a few weeks after the battle, neither able to get over the sense of betrayal they felt (for both Vaggie hiding her true angelic nature and Charlie making her deal with Alastor) and how the ex-exterminator felt she had to do something to try make-up for it still. He knew Charlie was keeping herself distracted preparing to re-open the hotel, but she was anxious that four months down the line they had still not heard anything from heaven about the battle – they hadn’t even set another extermination date, the clock in the centre of the city still sitting firmly on ‘000’, something Katie Killjoy on the 666 news took great delight in reporting every single f*cking day.

The less said about what he knew of Nifty, the better for everyone.

Truly the role of bar tender came with the unwritten caveat of ‘therapist’ and ‘secret keeper’. If he’d known beforehand he might have argued harder when Alastor dragged his ass here, or at least asked for something more than just a bottle of cheap booze.

Today the acid rains had driven most of the city indoors, with sinners experiencing melting flesh when the rain came in contact with their skin that the hell-born seemed immune to, that even the hotel seemed quieter than usual. Husk had seen no one until Angel practically fell through the front door after he returned from work, looking worse for wear than when he left that morning, and gave him the look. It was an unspoken look between them, the ‘loser look’ if they had to name it. the one that said ‘I’ve-had-a-f*cked-up-day-and-done-f*cked-up-sh*t-but-I-don’t-wanna-talk-about-it’. Husk dutifully said nothing as Angel took a seat by the bar and gratefully accepted the pink concoction of a drink the barman quickly whipped up for him.

Twenty minutes later the bar had another unexpected visitor, though she shared a similar downtrodden look as its current patron, Husk was still surprised when the princess slipped into the bar stool beside Angel’s.

“Something strong please, Husk” she requested, meeting his eyes with the kind of determined expression one would expect from someone about to charge into battle. Not that he was going to argue with her request.

He considered pouring her one of those fancy flavoured vodka’s he rarely used (he had to admit, when Alastor conjured this bar he made sure there was a vast variety of booze on offer), but she had requested ‘strong’. He wasn’t about to waste his favourites on her, since she probably wouldn’t like it, but he had other options. He grabbed a clear bottle full of amber liquid and poured her half a glass without ice. He’d barely taken the bottle back before she snatched the glass and threw it back, downing it’s contents in a single gulp.

Charlie’s eyes watered as she coughed, “what is that?”

“Whisky, the strong stuff” Husk smirked at her reaction, raising an eyebrow when she offered her glass again for him to refill it, “keep some around for Alastor, only stuff he’ll drink.”

“Aint he gonna be mad you’re giving the princess his private stash?” Angel piped up, but he was watching Charlie down her second drink like a pro with raised eyebrows and a slightly concerned look. The princess wasn’t a big drinker, that much was well known, the fact she was slamming shots like a sorority pledge probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Do I look like I give a crap?” he replied with a roll of his eyes, nor did he think Alastor would actually mind. He had known him longer than he cared to acknowledge, and well enough to see he had something of a soft spot for the princess. Besides, wasn’t like that deer f*ck had been making a big presence of himself since the battle with heaven, they were lucky to see him more than once a day lately. Preferring to sulk over his defeat in his rooms Husk assumed.

“So, what happened?” Angel asked, directing his question towards Charlie, “lemme guess, still can't get anyone to take this place seriously? You didn’t try handing out any more of those dumb flyers in this weather, did you?”

“No” she sighed, tapping the rim of her empty glass “and there’s nothing wrong with my flyers, I used by best gel pens on those!”

“Oh yea, the glitter really grabs attention.”

Husk coughed to hide his snicker.

Charlie gave them both an exasperated look, then returned her ruby gaze to the empty glass debating a third drink. Eh, why not? She moved the glass towards Husker who obediently refilled it, raising his long eyebrow.

“So what’s got your knickers in a twist, toots?”

The princess sipped her drink this time rather than downing the entire thing, the burn it left as it slid down her throat now a welcome distraction as she got her thoughts in order. “My dad asked me to represent him at the Rings Conclave and I said yes, which I now totally regret. I can’t back out though, because the only reason he can’t go is that heaven is finally demanding a meeting with him… probably about the battle, and the hotel… and Adam.”

Silence as the two other demons digested this information. they’d all expected heaven to do something sooner or later, it was a toss-up between talking it out or an all-out battle really, and while a meeting seemed a more peaceful step it did nothing to settle their nerves. The death of Adam was unlikely to be something they let go unpunished…

“What’s this ‘Concavey’ thing?” Angel asked, focusing on the part of the conversation that might not end in the complete obliteration of hell from up above.

“Conclave” Charlie corrected, sipping her drink and resting her head on her hand as she propped an elbow against the bar.

“Gesundheit.”

“It’s a meeting, leaders and royalty across the nine rings get together to discuss the running of hell – taxes, trading goods, that sort of stuff.”

“Sounds boring as f*ck” Husk grimaced, picking up a random glass and beginning to wipe it down.

“Trust me, it is” Charlie chuckled “I was dragged to these things every year when I was growing up – mom wanted me to know every little detail about the daily running of Hell, and get to know the demons responsible for it of course. It’s not awful, but most of them can be…”

“A bunch of pretentious assholes?” Angel snickered.

“That’s one way to put it” Charlie tried to hide her grin behind her glass “honestly most of them are okay, or at least they treat me the same way anyone else does which I can handle, but some of them treat me like prize meat.”

“Whaddya mean?”

Charlie rolled her eyes, but explained in a rather bored tone, “some are under the impression that by marrying me, the princess of hell, they will be next in line for the throne.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Nope” Charlie chirped, “dad made sure of that. Besides, he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

Angel drummed his fingers on the counter top of the bar, sipping his pink monstrosity of a co*cktail as he suggested, “so just don’t go if you don’t wanna.”

“I have to. It’s my ‘royal duty’ to represent the Pride Ring if my father can’t” she explained, putting on a big voice before she sipped her drink once more, “and it’s not like it’s all bad, I’ll get to see my aunts and uncles again. It’s been a while since I visited them, I’ve just been so busy… but I’m not looking forward being the ‘perfect princess’ while handsy princes try to get in my pants.”

Angel pulled a face, while Charlie sighed and drained the last of her glass, rubbing the cold empty glass against her cheek. She was being honest, it really would be nice to see her aunts and uncles again. She’d been so busy with her redemption projects she’d hardly had time to visit the other rings, and with most of her closest friends being sinners she wasn’t often motivated to go somewhere they couldn’t go with her. The meetings themselves where not that boing, sorting out trade deals and taxes really was important to the running of each realm after all, but she wasn’t telling them how most of the other demon royalty treated her like a joke. This wasn’t something she was oblivious to, she knew how others spoke about her – either behind her back or to her face – but there was something about the royal demons that made them so much more brazen with their remarks, cutting her deeper with words that shouldn’t have meant as much as they did. The fact that most would talk to her this way, they try hook her up with their sons or daughters was just… urgh. When she was younger she had been polite about it, let them introduce her to demons around her age who would do their best to charm, entice or sleaze their way into her heart (or just her bed, in some cases). As she got older it became more irritating, they became more relentless, until she was begging her parents to leave her home. When she finally moved out she figured she’d never have to go to another Conclave, at least until she really did take over for her father, or at the very least she’d have a partner to go with.

Normally she’d have asked Vaggie to go with her, but considering their recent break-up it didn’t seem right. It had been months but Charlie would have to be blind to miss the forlorn looks on her ex’s face when she thought no one was looking. They’d had a good talk, both of them still loved the other but that love had changed – the trust there had changed. Charlie was still hurt Vaggie hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her who she really was, and Vaggie was hurt Charlie had ignored her warnings and made the deal with Alastor without talking to her about it first. Charlie still didn’t think that decision was one they’d needed to discuss, Al had information that could save their lives, she’d have made the deal regardless (though part of her was a little annoyed he’d made her a deal for that information in the first place, considering his life had been on the line too). Before their passive aggressive remarks and hurt could ruin their friendship entirely, they’d had that talk about how they felt and mutually decided a breakup and some distance would be better for them in the long run. Of course there was only so much distance one could get when you lived in the same building, and while Charlie had felt she could breathe a little better once Vaggie moved to a room of her own across the other side of the hotel, the times she had caught a glimpse of her looking like a misplaced toy in the hallways still tugged on her heartstrings. Vaggie was trying harder with the hotel as well, despite the fact they hadn’t officially re-opened since the rebuild, even helping Nifty with chores and mealtime. Charlie suspected she was trying to be extra helpful to not lose her place there, not that it was ever at risk. Maybe she should talk to her about it, they were still best friends after all.

The idea of asking Angel to go with her was shot down as soon as in flittered across her mind. Even if he could get the time off with Valentino, she could just imagine him propositioning the wrong member of royalty and there would be a whole new problem to deal with. Similar problem with Alastor really, though he’d likely insult someone. Husker wouldn’t want to go, and Nifty was a bit too stabby. Besides, it wasn’t like she would be completely alone – Razzle would be with her, loyal as ever.

“You know, I’m sure Alastor mentioned getting some kind of invite to this thing a few days ago” Husk remembered, one of the rare mornings in the last few weeks the resident overlord and deigned them with his presence, flicking through the received mail and burning it after reading out the contents. Husk had only been half listening – half the mail they got was junk anyway.

Charlie’s head jerked up, mouth open. Of course Alastor had gotten an invite! He was an overlord after all, she’d heard a few years ago after a few years of arguing their case the overlords and begun being invited to the Conclave as well – they were, after all, responsible for more than half the revenue that the Pride ring generated, it was only fair they be involved in discussions on how that revenue was distributed among the rings even if they couldn’t go to the different rings themselves. Last time Charlie had gone to one of these Sinner demons hadn’t been permitted at all, not even overlords.

“Speaking of tall dark and f*ckin’ creepy-“ Angel muttered, half turning in his seat when he’d seen a flash of red trying to pass by them in the lobby “-Oi, Smiles, over here a sec!”

Alastor froze mid-step, the smile on his face widening a fraction as he apparently debated his options, to keep walking or see what Angel wanted. Curiosity must have gotten the best of him, or perhaps it as the allure of a stiff drink, because he turned sharply and joined them at the bar, sitting at the other end to Angel and Charlie as Husk slid a full glass unasked towards him on the bar, and smiled in a way that bared his teeth to the three of them as he greeted, “good evening my fine fellows, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

The words had sounded pleasant, but annoyance rolled off the deer demon in waves. Oh, he’s pissed off with something, Charlie thought. But then again, hadn’t that seemed to be his permanent mood recently?

Angel either ignored his obvious bad mood or didn’t notice (both where possible), and asked “you going to this, what was is, uh – ring meeting?”

“Rings Conclave” Charlie corrected again.

“Hmm” Alastor raised his glass to his lips for a sip leaving them to wait for his answer for a moment, finally giving a half shrug as sitting stiff as he answered “I received an invite, yes. Why do you wish to know?”

“Well, there you go, toots” Angel said, completely ignoring Alastor’s question as he slapped Charlie’s back with both his right hands almost sending her off her stool and face first into the bar itself “you’ll have a… a sort of friendly face, if any of those princely sh*ts gets too hairy for ya. Bet Smiles would relish the opportunity to set them straight anyway. You’re very own guardian radio demon, ha-ha!”

“Ah-ha, I don’t think there would be any need for that” Charlie downplayed nervously, though she gave Alastor a bright and hopeful grin, “I can take care of anything too out of line, but I really would enjoy the company of a familiar face!”

“Apologies, my dear,” Alastor raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his drink “but you seem to have misunderstood – I was invited, I never said I would be attending this ridiculous meeting. Honestly, sitting around for days discussing something as mundane as taxes, exports and imports – I can think of nothing more dull! And you know as well as I what happens when I get bored…”

“Oh” Charlie deflated, “oh, yeah… I guess that makes sense. For you I mean, to not be bored. Maybe it’s a good thing, with both my father and I gone for a few days Vaggie will need someone to help around the hotel anyway…”

Charlie was oblivious to the glare Alastor was receiving from Angel Dust and Husk over her head.

She tapped her empty glass thoughtfully, debating a final drink, but decided against it – the last thing she would need in the morning is a headache! Pushing her glass away and hopping of the stool, the princess waved goodnight over her shoulder to the three men and took herself upstairs to bed.

The second she was out of earshot, Angel turned on Alastor. “Not going huh? Thought you’d be right in the thick of things, rubbing elbows with the literal leaders of hell, getting those creepy thumbs of yours in as many pies as possible.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the spider demon, acknowledging his unusually aggressive tone with little more than a dismissive look as he continued to enjoy his drink.

“Oh, come on you sad*stic f*ck,” Angel snapped, pointing at the deer demon with two of his four arms while a third slapped the bar hard enough to make Husk jump “if you aint gonna go to this thing for yourself, the least you could do is go for Charlie. I don’t give a sh*t how bored you’d be, considering all the crap that girl has done for us – and don’t think we haven’t noticed her picking up your slack lately either you lazy f*ck! If she needs someone to watch her back from perverted creeps and morons then-“

Angel made a mistake, caught up in his own temper, had forgotten the golden rule – never touch the Radio Demon. Infuriated when the red-clad demon had begun to turn away from him as he ranted, he’d grabbed his shoulder to turn him back intent on making him listen. A second later he was slammed face down into the top of the bar, Alastor’s clawed hand wrapped around his head and pressing just enough to almost pierce the skin through his fluff of hair. Angel froze on instinct. He couldn’t see, his face pressed against the wood, but he could hear the snarling and the static, the usual sounds of a pissed off radio demon that usually followed someone getting eviscerated…

“C’mon boss, he didn’t mean nothin’ by it” Husker’s voice was quiet, but there was a tremble to his tone that made Angel tense just a little – like the barman wasn’t entirely certain he could talk the other demon down. Angel wasn’t sure either, the pressure on his head didn’t release for a few moments – he scrunched his eyes slightly when that pressure increased for a moment, Al’s claws piercing the skin of skull, as if he was toying with the idea of bursting his head open like a grape – and then, just as suddenly, the pressure as gone.

Husk tried not to breathe a sigh of relief when Alastor blinked, his radio-dial eyes returning to his usual crimson ones, though his ears remained pinned to his head and that grin of his looked positively feral – the radio demon snatched his drink from the bar, drained its contents, then slammed it back down before he stalked away. The cat demon watched him with wide eyes, straining to hear until the clip of his deliberate footsteps had long since faded, before he turned on Angel who had lifted himself just enough to press his hands against his face, fingers gripping the tips of his hair.

“The f*ck where you thinking?” Husk growled, throwing his cleaning cloth against the bar “yelling at that freak on a good day is insanity, mood he’s been in lately, did you have death wish or wha-“

Angel dragged his hands down his face and peered up just enough to glare at Husk, who froze as the makeup he’d accidentally wiped away with his hands revealed the purple and black bruising to his eye and cheek. Bruises that had not been there yesterday, or that morning for that matter. Husk sighed.

“I just hate the idea of Charlie getting pawed at the same way…” Angel spat, then trailed off, looking away as he rubbed his arms, “… I know it's not the same.”

“Ah, I get it kid” Husk sighed again, leaving against the bar himself “you don’t wanna see the princess hurt the same way you do. Understandable. Getting’ yourself killed for mouthing off to that piece of sh*t won’t do much good though.”

“Yeah… I know.”

XXXX

Upstairs in the bowels of the hotel, Alastor seethed as he stalked the hallways well aware that the antlers on his head had begun to grow taller since his incident with the pest that was Angel Dust at the bar. He ignored it, keeping his hands clasped firmly behind his back with his own claws digging into his wrists and drawing blood, he snarled at little Nifty when she spotted him in the hall and attempted to run up and greet him – the sound alone being enough for her to think twice and back away.

Thankfully he met no one else on his way back to his room on the top floor of the hotel. When he had first moved in a room at the top of the building had been strategic – he could see anyone coming, would take a while if anyone did breech and attempt to find him, and granted him access to his radio tower built into the side of the roof. He hadn’t even needed to ask for the place, Charlie and given him the room explaining all these points to him like they hadn’t already occurred to him, clever girl she was. Right now however he’d have given anything for his room to have been on one of the lower levels.

The door unlocked with a click in his hand and he slammed it shut as he entered giving no mind to any of the other tenants nearby (the nearest one being the princess herself, who was unlikely to come reprimand him no matter how hard he slammed it anyway). The second he was away from prying eyes his shadow detached itself, stretching itself upon the wall nearby, the expressionless being was doing an excellent job of appearing concerned for its master as it watched him undress. Alastor scowled despite his grin as he removed his coat in a hurry, unbuttoning his shirt in a flurry of fingers and peeling it away from his chest to be discarded with his coat upon the armchair by the roaring green fire. With nothing but his pants and shoes on now, the shadow watched – its own ears twitching in distress – as Alastor began to peel back the bandage he had wrapped against his chest. He snarled against the stinging pain as the wet gauze removed itself from his wound, coming away stained with blood and golden heavenly light. The wound he had received from Adam looked, and felt, no closer to healing than it had four months ago when he’d first received it.

Alastor flopped into the armchair and panted, the fresh air against the wound doing something to relive his pain just slightly. Normally he was not one to sit around, even in his private rooms, in such a state of undress. If his mother ever found out she’d smack him around the head with her favourite wooden spoon and tell him she’d raised him better. This wound however left his nerves wrought, every move felt like being stabbed, every touch against his skin (and he was not normally one to like touch anyway) burned like a brand. Even clothing hurt to wear.

Without the reserve of power he kept in his staff, and he suspected the heavenly light infecting his body blocked his dark magic, Alastor had little choice but to wait for the wound to heal naturally. He wasn’t used to healing slowly. The fact the pain left him exhausted, and with little patience for the fools for which he found himself surrounded, did nothing for his temper. Hence his earlier outburst – not that that pest hadn’t deserved to be put in his place regardless.

A clunk to his side drew his attention, only to find his loyal shadow had obediently set about fetching the small first aid kit he kept in the bathroom (Charlie had actually set them up in every bathroom in the hotel, a pragmatist as much as a idealist apparently) as well as fetching a bottle of his favourite whisky possibly pilfered from the supply Husk kept at the bar and setting them on the table beside the armchair.

He chose the whisky first, reaching for the bottle and bringing the entire thing to his lips rather than use the glass beside it. Alcohol dulled the pain some, at least enough for him to bare cleaning the wound.

‘The least he could do after all she had done for them’, ha! That vile sex obsessed creature had no idea what he was talking about. After all, what exactly had Charlie done for him that warranted putting himself through what he would actually consider akin to self-torture? Where it not for the princess and her little hotel, he wouldn’t be in this mess! He hissed, wiping at his wheeping wound, biting down on his own lip hard enough to draw blood.

On the other hand, if Charlie was gone and left Vaggie in charge he would get no peace…

Alastor paused cleaning himself up at the mere thought.

Charlie had not been oblivious to him shirking the few duties he had around the hotel, but only twice had she apparently been bothered enough to confront him on the issue. Knocking so quietly at his door it would have been easy to mistake the noise for a mouse, disguising her interest as concern for his wellbeing when she asked if he had been okay lately as they had missed him around the hotel. Oh, she was easy enough to wave away, simply telling her he had other matters to take care of at the moment (not entirely a lie, only that matter was his health) to which the naïve princess would tell him she ‘totally understood’ and she hoped whatever it was went well for him and she could manage his duties on top of her own for now. It was laughable really, how easily she believed his words.

The ex-angel would not be so easily dissuaded, considering her contempt for him in the first place, there was the added factor that since her relationship with the princess dissolved she apparently felt the need to overcompensate to ‘earn’ her place in the hotel. He could have saved her some time, Charlie would likely never kick her out over a scorned heart, but it amused him to watch her scramble when he felt well enough to leave his room. If he was left behind to assist her with running the hotel he had no doubt she would be less inclined to leave him to his solitude to heal, at least not without proper explanation, which he would not give. She’d be just as likely to run him through and finish him off as she would be to allow him peace and quiet. Leaving with Charlie would get him away from the homicidal angel, however it would also put him in striking distance of some very powerful demons however, and in his already weakened state he wasn’t delusional to think he could protect himself should one or more hold a grudge with him.

Of course, Charlie would never allow that. True enough the princess was not a fighter, she had a tendency to apologise before a confrontation had even began in fact, nor did she hold a significant amount of political power – most laughed if she ever tried to exert her title, he’d almost done so himself when she ‘commanded’ him to assist with the hotel for as long as he desired. He’d missed anything that happened after he’d been forced to retreat, but had been told by Nifty how, during the battle, Charlie had undergone some kind of transformation after the death of that ridiculous snake Pentious – spurred by her anger and need to protect, Nifty told him how she’d even managed to best Adam to protect her own father. Alastor didn’t believe a lick of it honestly, oh he knew Charlie was powerful, but Nifty had a tendency to overexaggerate and what she’d described to him had been so beyond his ability to imagine of the innocent little princess he knew that he had no choice but to assume her little imagination and run off with her again. Still, he believed Charlie had done something in order to protect her friends, he could probably rely on her to do it again if he was in mortal peril – at the very least, her title alone might be enough of a deterrent to put his enemies off their game, for a few days at least.

If not, he could remain in the shadow as he had done here in the hotel, though it sapped the energy he was slowly rebuilding and dragged him back to square one. It was a useful skill to have when one was being hunted… or doing the hunting.

Reaching for the whisky bottle again, Alastor look another gulp and wiped the excess from his chin with the back of his wrist. So uncouth. He was in too much pain to care. His shadow sat on the wall opposite, it’s head tilted curiously as it observed it’s master, in tune to his thoughts and feelings.

Was he really considering this? Galivanting off with the princess to god knows where for some ridiculous meeting just to avoid possibly being speared through the heart by her pet exorcist? His hand raised to linger over his chest, hovering but never touching his own burning skin, and grimaced.

Yes, yes he was.

Urgh, how the mighty do fall…

XXXX

“Do I have everything? I do… no wait – no, yes…” Charlie’s voice was the first thing heard in the foyer the next morning as the demoness paced by the front door, her red suitcase adorned with rainbow and unicorn stickers leaning against the wall. The poor case and been unpacked and packed five times since she’d started the night before, always certain she’d forgotten something she’d no doubt need. Razzle sat atop the suitcase kicking his little hooved feet and watching her pace.

“Man, is she like this every time she leaves for a few days?” a voice surprised her “I’m just watching and it’s giving me a headache!”

Charlie turned mid-step, surprised to see Angel and Vaggie both bleary eyed up awake and ready for the day. Normally neither of them would be up until at least ten. “Oh, good morning! What are you two doing up so early?”

“Came to see you off, doll face” Angel grinned, arms on his hips “you where fretting so much yesterday thought it might give ya’ a bit of a boost.”

“And I knew you’d be down here worrying you forgot something, as usual” Vaggie shrugged, rubbing one of her arms.

“Aw, you guys!” Charlie ran the short distance between them, throwing her arms around them both and crushing them in an impossibly tight hug. Angel wasn’t sure which one of them squeaked, but was embarrassingly certain it might have been him.

“Alright, alright! Hands off the goods, or I’ll have to start chargin’”

“You sure you’re going to be okay going on your own?” Vaggie asked, ignoring Angel as he fussed about plumping up his chest fluff beside her, and fixing Charlie with a concerned look, “I could-“

“-Why, whoever said our fair princess would be attending this event alone?” she was interrupted.

Jumping a little as she peered over her shoulder, Charlie asked dumbly “Alastor?”

The red-clad radio demon stood by the doorway in all his glory, with his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he regarded them with half lidded eyes, not one bag in sight. “The one and only, my dear.”

“Wait, I thought you weren’t goin’?” Angel frowned, then remembering their little altercation he hasted to add “said it’d be too ‘boring’, right?”

“Well remembered my good fellow, however, I had the night to ponder upon your words and decided that perhaps you were correct – we cannot allow our esteemed leader and founder of this fabulous establishment to attend such an event alone now, can we?”

Charlie and Vaggie, oblivious to whatever had happened between the pair the night before, glanced between them with raised eyebrows – but got no answers when Angel narrowed his eyes for a moment, then simply shrugged “whateva’, least you’ll have company toots.”

Alastor thought this was a far cry from his reaction the night before, then again with the girls as witnesses he could not blame the other demon for his apparent nonchalance. He didn’t have time to linger on the thought however.

“Ohmygoodness!” the princess grinned, stars in her eyes, “Al’, I’m so glad you changed your mind! We’re gonna have so much-!”

Forgetting herself in her enthusiasm for a moment, Charlie grabbed Alastor’s arm, then immediately flinched when he emitted a screech of static. Even Vaggie clashed her hands over her ears – while Angel tugged the princess away from the radio demon with one of his for arms, the others covering his own ears too.

“Ah-ha, oh… I’m sorry, Alastor, I forgot” she apologised weakly, rubbing her ringing ears, looking at the demon stood rigidly with an unnaturally stretched grin and strangely wet eyes.

Tension was thick. The radio demon sucked in a breath, causing the other three to unconsciously hold theirs, before he turned away from them. Over his shoulder he threw the words, “no harm, my dear. Just don’t do it again.”

Angel Dust relaxed and dropped the grip he’d had on Charlie’s arm, having half expected the radio creep to jump her the way he had done to him last night. Then again, maybe he’d had enough sense to know how f*ckin’ stupid he would be to do it.

“Oh, no!” Charlie suddenly exclaimed, pressing her hands against her cheeks, she looked at Vaggie “if Al’ is coming with me, who will help you run the hotel while I’m gone?”

“It’s fine-“

But Charlie wasn’t listening, she’d already spun around and fixed her eyes on Razzle. The plush little goat demon was still kicking his feet on top of her suitcase, a slightly glazed look in his eyes and seemingly oblivious to anything going on around him. “Razzle! You can stay and help Vaggie protect the hotel, can’t you?”

Razzle jerked into an alert position at the sound of his name, hand to his head in a salute ready to follow her orders – right up until Vaggie was mentioned. At the sound of her name, the goat froze. It’s gaze went past Charlie to the grey clad woman beyond, his nose twitched and he hissed, the fur on his body bristling as he began to swell in size.

Charlie dove forwards and grabbed him, smoothing a hand gently over his body to soothe him as he shrank back down and she shook her head and muttered to herself, “ah, right… no, that won’t work.”

Alastor watched this scene curiously, tilting his head just a little to see the shamed expression on Vaggie as she watched to. Interesting.

“Don’t worry about it Charlie, I can handle the hotel” Vaggie assured her, though with her arms wrapped around herself like that she looked anything but confident, she added “we’re not even open yet anyway – and if anyone comes about to start trouble, we can handle it. I swear, nothing will happen while you’re away.”

“Heck yeah” Angel slapped Vaggie’s shoulders sending her forwards a few steps, not that he seemed to notice “we’ll teach those f*ckers not to mess with us, we beat heaven we can beat anyone! Like, literally, I think all we need to do is give Nifty a knife and it’s like an automatic win guaranteed ya’know? Though, if you’re really worried I can ask Cherri to stay over for a couple of days. Just in case?”

“Thaaat might be a better idea than giving Nifty a knife” Charlie agreed, still holding Razzle to her chest he way a child might hold a teddy bear.

“Charlie…” Vaggie spoke quietly, indicating with a nod of her head to speak privately. Charlie let Razzle go now that he’d relaxed and side stepped away from Alastor and Angel to hear what she had to say. “… are you sure this is a good idea, going alone with him of all demons?”

Charlie frowned, “you mean Al? Why not? He’s never tried to hurt me-“

“-hurt you? He practically forced you to make a deal when he knew you were upset and yeah, that’s kinda my fault, but-“

“-Vaggie.” Charlie stopped her firmly, resting a hand against her shoulder “my deal with Alastor wasn’t your fault, it probably would have happened anyway. He had the information we needed, and well… that’s just who he is. It’s not like he asked for my soul or anything.”

“Not yet.”

“Psh! Please” the princess waved away the worry “I have more sense than to deal that away, trust me!”

“Do you though?” Vaggie pressed “if something like that happens again, if it’s all our lives at stake and he asks for your soul, would you give it to him?”

“I…” Charlie scowled, gazing into her friends begging eye. This had clearly been bothering her a lot. She could only sigh, looking away for a moment, then meeting her gaze again she answered honestly, “if I had no other choice, if it was the only way to save everyone I loved… I probably would. But that won’t happen. No more deals, I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Of course! I know you don’t trust him, but everyone deserves a chance – and Al’ didn’t have to help us as much as he did when we fought heaven. He could have just given us the information and took off, but he didn’t. He stayed and helped! I trust him.”

Vaggie thought about reminding Charlie he’d disappeared for half that battle to heaven only knows where and only reappeared after the hotel was rebuilt looking suspiciously no worse for ware, but she knew it would likely fall on deaf ears. As usual, Charlie’s penchant to trust the good in everyone – even in hell – came though stronger than any sense of danger it would seem. The angel resolved she would simply have to keep a keener eye on the overlord when the returned, and her spear sharpened. Just in case.

As the girls had their chat, a similar one happened by the doorway between Angel and Alastor. Though the deer demon had been content to stand in silence, trying not to allow his annoyance to become too apparent, the spider appeared to have other thoughts on his mind.

“So why’d you really change your mind?”

Alastor cracked his neck as he turned his head in a way he knew unnerved other demons. Perhaps he used it too much around the hotel mind, because while Angel did recoil slightly he didn’t back down completely.

“Exactly what I said earlier – I contemplated your apparent distress at our dear princess dealing with, what did you call them? Ah, ‘perverted creeps and morons’. Though, that does seem to be more your forte wouldn’t you say?”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes “yeah, yeah but I aint some big wig in charge now am I? Just… watch her back, alright?”

“Why, if I did not know any better, one might think you care about her.”

“Har, har, don’t get any ideas, I’m still into men – be more interested in finding out what’s in your stuck-up pants than hers any day” Angel smirked, invading the radio demons space once more, but this time he made sure not to get anywhere near close to touching. Still, he felt a little satisfied when the deer demons grin became strained as he leaned away, his left eye twitching just slightly.

“Never going to happen, and if you continue to insist down this road a repeat of last night can be arranged – and this time I will not be so merciful.”

“Ah, don’t get your antlers in a twist” Angel snickered, but backed off as the girls rejoined them, adding “hey, Charlie, while you’re gone why don’t you see if you can’t get deer dick to remove the giant stick up his ass, eh?”

Alastor scowled, though that trademark grin remained in place, and his shoulders stiffened. Charlie gave a nervous laugh, but placed herself between the radio demon and p*rn star before one of them could attack the other and was relieved to hear an impatient horn beeping from outside the hotel. “Ah-ha-ha, would you look at that, must be the taxi! Well, gotta go! C’mon Al’ – I’ll be back soon, miss you guys already!”

“Bye Charlie!” Vaggie and Angel said in union, watching as their princess dragged her suitcase towards the helluva taxi waiting outside, a large impatient looking imp with an impressive moustache at the wheel, Razzle fluttering to follow her while Alastor trailed after them with almost deliberate slowness.

No one bid the radio demon goodbye.

XXXX

There was something to be said about the perpetual screaming that seemed to linger in the air of the Ring of Greed, considering most would not think this particular sin to be all that bad, and yet it was the only ring where the screaming never seemed to stop. Always someone shrieking, in rage or fear or pain.

Striker’s boots rattled on the hardwood floor as he stalked through the mansion, his tail whipping behind him, he smirked when the lesser imps and shark demons he passed in the halls shrank back in fear or avoided eye contact. Tough as these idiots thought themselves, they knew not one of them could hold a candle to his skill.

He entered Crimsons office without knocking, the mafia boss had summoned him after all – he was expected. The white-haired Imp’s gaze narrowed at the lack of respect, but he said nothing about it and waved a hand at the shark demons clustered around his desk apparently having been discussing something when the hit man entered. Half of them left, not one of them looking at Striker as they filed past him, but two stayed. Bodyguards, Striker presumed, from the way they took a stance behind Crimsons large chair with their hands folded in front of them and guns on clear display in hip holsters. Heh, looks like the boss was nervous to be alone with him. Good.

“You said you had a client?” Striker wasted no time with pleasantries, taking a seat opposite Crimson’s desk, tilting his hat back with a finger to keep his gaze fixed on the mafia boss.

“Yes” Crimsons leaned back, steepling his fingers “one you’re familiar with, I believe. Stella Goetia.”

Striker stiffened for a moment in his seat, more than a little pissed of the prissy bitch had reached out to Crimson rather than himself as she had in the past. Had he not done a good job abducting her blue-blood husband? He’d even been about to kill the useless waste of feathers, had she not pulled the plug. “I’ve done work for her before.”

“I’m aware” Crimson raised an eyebrow. He’d have been stupid to put the assassin on his payroll without knowing what he could do after all, and gathering information on his previous jobs was a good way to value the quality of work he could expect from him. The fact he’d had to get this information from a quartet of singing imps from wrath was something of a pain in the ass however.

“What’s she want this time?” Striker scoffed “finally ready to off her no-good husband?”

Crimson said nothing for a moment, a cruel smile playing upon his lips “unfortunately not, or I’d have been able to charge her more upfront for the risk of killing demon royalty. No – it would appear she’s struggling to persuade her daughter to allow her full custody or some crap. She’s got this idea in her head to kidnap the little princess from some fancy shindig she’s attending with her father. Thinks if she can discredit him, the girl will seek mommy’s safe arms or some bullsh*t.”

Striker scowled.

“I know a thing or two about disappointing children” Crimson shrugged, a particularly dark look passing his features for a moment, “not normally the kind of job we’d take, but she’s paying well – and I’m thinking we can get more out of her before this thing is over.”

“Let me get this straight” Striker pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief “you want me to kidnap a teenage girl? No killing?”

“Not unless she pays extra. Should be easy for you” Crimson spoke in a stern tone “considering you already kidnapped her father once. Quick buck.”

“I’m a hitman.”

“You are whatever I pay you to be” Crimson snapped.

Striker hissed, the shark demons by Crimsons’ seat both twitched, hands going to the guns on their hips. Ha, he could kill them both before they’d even unholstered the damn things and their boss too. Then again, the jobs he’d done for them recently had been some the easiest money he’d made in a long time – and if he wanted to replace his collection of blessed weapons, he needed the fast cash.

“Besides-” Crimson continued, ignoring the tense atmosphere “-the job isn’t without it’s challenge. The girl will be surrounded by demon royalty, even the sins themselves. Getting in and out with her without being noticed will be a test of stealth. Think you can do it?”

To ask was an insult, and Striker sneered, “just tell me when and where. I’ll get the girl.”

“Good,” Crimson handed him the small note with the relevant information Stella had provided, “now get out.”

With a final quite hiss, Striker snatched the note and stomped out, his click of his spurred boots heard throughout the house.

“It really wise to send the assassin after the girl, boss?” one of his guards piped up once he was sure the killer imp was out of ear shot, keeping his tone respectful as he reminded, “the woman said no payment if the girl gets hurt.”

“He’ll behave if he knows what’s good for him” Crimson growled, keeping his glare on the door “he better. I got a plan to squeeze that stuck up broad for all she’s worth before this is over.”

Over his head the shark demons shared a toothy grin.

This was why he was the boss, after all.

Chapter 2: Trains and Bedrooms

Chapter Text

Contrary to the somewhat popular belief of most of hells population, Charlie wasn’t stupid, and honestly one would have to be both deaf and blind to miss the fact there was something clearly wrong with her smiling companion – no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

True, she hadn’t noticed it at first. He had been stoic on the cab ride from the hotel to the train station, while she had chattered in her usual manner to him about how pleased she was he’d changed his mind and decided to come to the Conclave. It was always nicer to go on these trips with a friend. He hadn’t been to one of these before, so she’d explained at his puzzled look when they arrived at the train station how the event was held at a location outside of Pentagram city – in the hopes that being away from the public might reduce damage if a fight broke out amongst the powerful demons in attendance. Besides that, they also needed a location large enough to house the usually large number of attendees. This year it was being held at a lodge far outside the city limits, on the edge of the boiling lake.

Alastor had remained quiet as she told him all this, which wasn’t entirely unusual for him. Sometimes he was content to let her speak, honestly when he got like this she normally assumed he wasn’t listening, though he would often surprise her by mentioning something she’d said at a later point proving he had been listening and simply had nothing to say on the matter at that moment. She didn’t mind either way, listening or not, just happy to have someone besides Razzle to talk to. Besides, he’d been in an persistent mad mood for weeks now so his silence wasn’t entirely surprising to her – though she did hope this trip might be just what he needs to improve his mood.

Upon boarding the train, they were shown to the royal carriage by a particularly old imp, wearing a blue conductors uniform and with a white beard long enough to pass his knees and eyebrows almost long enough to match she was honestly surprised he was able to see where he was going at all, and wasn’t entirely certain age was the sole reason he look such slow steps as he directed them. The carriage wasn’t anything grand compared to the rest of the train, the same size – just big enough for them to sit on opposite seats without their knees touching – with plush red seats, a small wooden shelf that could fold out into a table against the wall beneath a window that showed them the view as it rushed past. There was a mini bar built beneath the shelf/table, Charlie knew to be well stocked from previous trips, a television built into one wall (she hadn’t missed the derisive look Alastor threw at it when he noticed) though he perked up when he noticed the radio. It was the only time he’s spoken since they left the hotel in fact, asking if she minded him turning it on (though he’d already done so before he finished the question, making it clear to her that it didn’t matter what her answer was).

He sat in his seat opposite her with a ramrod straight spine and stiff shoulders, the radio beside him playing a soft jazzy tune just audible over the clatter of the train wheels, his eyes closed. Charlie had thought he might be sleeping, at least until she noticed the way his shoulders flinched anytime the train jerked, or the way his ears twitched when someone passed their carriage. Twice when the train had made a particularly violent jolt – the tracks in hell left a lot to be desired when it came to a smooth ride – his easy smile had twisted into something of a sneer, flashing yellow teeth before he quickly schooled the expression into something more neutral again. Come to think of it, he looked paler than usual, and there was a light sheen of sweat around his hairline.

Maybe he’s sick? Thought Charlie, dragging her gaze down to the other occupant of their carriage – Razzle lay on the seat beside her, his head resting in her lap as he curled beneath her hand petting him steadily. The poor goat demon had terrible motion sickness, that curiously only ever seemed to bother him on trains. Like Alastor, Razzle jerked whenever the train made certain movement, and though he couldn’t sweat, his whole body trembled. Could it be possible that the big bad radio demon got motion sick too?

Metal screeched as the train hit it’s breaks, the carriages jolting to one side as the speeding monstrosity took the turn ahead at an alarming pace, sending its passengers careening to one side within their seats. Charlie had expected it, having travelled by train fairly often as a child with her parents, and simply held an arm up against the window to brace herself. Both Alastor and Razzle slid in their seats however, with the former hitting the windowed wall to his side and inhaling sharply at the contact, his clawed hand on the armrest of the seat digging in hard enough to pierce the plush fabric, while Razzle was saved by Charlie’s other arm clamping down on him hard while he let out a whimper.

Razzle whimpered again, burying his head in her stomach. Charlie gave a sympathetic sigh, and resumed petting him as she said, “you didn’t have to come with me. You could have stayed back at the hotel.”

Alastor started at her words, eyes opening with a snap, about to bite a retort (probably something about not wishing to be alone with those imbeciles, or risk being run through by her ex-paramour) the words dying on his tongue as he realised her gaze, and words, where not directed towards him – but rather the goat demon curled into her lap like a frightened cat.

Lifting her gaze, Charlie noticed Al had finally opened his eyes again and was watching Razzle on her lap with raised eyebrows. “He gets motion sick” she explained, dragging his gaze to meet her own “only on trains for some reason, usually it's not quite this bad – we can keep him distracted from it, but…”

The princess bit her lip with a tiny fang, a habit of hers he’d noticed fairly quickly, usually when she was stressed or worried. She said nothing for a few moments, and Alastor assumed she was finished and let his eyes shut again.

“Dazzle was always better at distracting him.” Charlie blurted when she saw his eyes close, not wanting to go back to the silence. His eyes opened again to peer at her questioningly, and she ploughed on, “He misses him. We both do… that’s why he wouldn’t stay at the hotel without me. I suppose with that being the first time he’s ever fought an angel, Razzle now knows that Vaggie is – or rather, used to be – an exorcist. I think he can smell it, recognises that she smells like them, you know? He nearly bit her hand off a few days after the battle when she tried to pet him. I had to pin him down to get him to calm down again – not an easy feat when he’s in dragon form, let me tell you!”

She chuckled awkwardly at her own joke, while Alastor just raised an eyebrow. He’d not seen the goat demon's dragon form, though he had seen the statue of Dazzle raised in memoriam outside the hotel’s entrance of the fallen creature, it was not nearly as fearsome as some renditions of the creatures he’d seen but it was fairly large. If it was to scale, he could understand her trouble. Still, this did explain the little demon’s reaction when Charlie had suggested it stay behind at the hotel – honestly, with her explanation, it didn’t entirely surprise him. Though the little creature was clearly intelligent enough to follow orders, it was still rather animalistic in its behaviour, watching the fall of its sibling to angelic arms was bound to translate strangely in its little mind. When he was a child he’d had a neighbour who attempted to train his dogs by beating them with a newspaper, the dogs where never the best trained creatures but they became terrified of a rolled-up newspaper. Same principle, he supposed, beginning to shut his eyes again content to ride out the rest of this torturous train ride in silence.

“Sooo, you’ve really never been to one of these meetings before?” Charlie spoke again.

He peeled his eyes open for the third time, fixing her with a glare. The princess did not cower from his sight however, continuing to peer at him with her head tilted just slightly to the side like a curious puppy, and he sighed bidding farewell to any hope he’d had of a silent journey – not when she was clearly in the mood to chat.

“I have not.”

“Huh” she said it thoughtfully, and at his raised eyebrow she quickly explained “I just mean, well, I thought you would have. You’ve been an overlord for a long time, right? longer than they’ve allowed overlords to attend these things anyway. You definitely should have had an invite before at least.”

“I was invited” he gave a slight shrug, trying not to wince when the movement sent shocks through his entire nervous system, he explained “I have simply never accepted before, as I said last night, this all seems rather dull. You know how much I abhor boredom, my dear.”

“Really?” she frowned “I mean, not to be rude or anything, but it’s pretty clear you’re a man who enjoys power – I thought you’d want to be involved with literally running hell.”

“Hmm” he hummed, somewhat amused by her assessment of him, though he did not deny anything. She was right of course, he did desire power – however, the political power of which she spoke meant little to him. Why would he want to dictate the taxes demons should pay, considering this was hell and most would find a way to skip paying anyway?

Under his gaze Charlie began playing with her hair, “I just thought, I mean even if you find that stuff boring, you’d want to be up there making alliances with more powerful demons is all.”

“Ah” he leaned forward a little, trying not to wince when pain lanced through his chest, and grinned a little wider, “would ‘alliance’ perhaps be a fancy term for a deal, my dear? In which case, I must argue, why would I need a deal with them when I already have one with you?”

Charlie’s mouth snapped shut, her arms folding over her chest as she turned her gaze out of the window. Alastor leaned back, satisfied, and hoped that perhaps it might quiet her for now.

In her seat, Charlie tried not to react. Oh she’d had no illusion that Alastor’s deal with her was all about power, he could have literally made a deal with anyone else at the hotel (okay, so probably not Husk or Nifty since she was pretty sure he already had deals with them) but he had come directly to her. When he knew she was alone and upset. In the moment it hadn’t seem too odd, but she’d had weeks to think upon their deal and knew that sooner or later it was going to come back to bite her in the ass. He’d sought her out, listened to her woes, and when the moment was right to strike he’d struck up that deal with her. She’d been so desperate to save her people she’d barely hesitated, just long enough to make her stipulations, she wouldn’t kill or hurt anyone. It had sounded so harmless at the time, a simple favour, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t spent countless hours since contemplating just what kind of things he could ask her for. Yet, every time she had these thoughts, went over her memory of the conversation that led to the deal, she couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that it had been inevitable. Fate perhaps? Alastor had the information they needed to turn the tide on heaven, she needed to save her people. There was no scenario she could think of where he’d give up that information without getting something in return (that didn’t involve him getting struck with some kind of magic beam of altruistic lighting) despite how much it pissed her off. After all, she had known who and what he was from the moment he set foot in her hotel. It simply wasn’t his nature.

And what she’d said to Vaggie back at the hotel as true. She honestly believed that, if a deal with her had been all he was after then he’d have taken off before the battle started. He didn’t need to introduce her to Rosie, or assist her in rallying the residents of cannibal town to join their fight – though, she supposed he may have done this to guarantee her survival. What use was a deal with her if she ended up dead before he could cash in? But even then, Alastor and Rosie had been a key part of their battle plan – the radio demon himself had volunteered to distract Adam if the shield was broken. He didn’t have to do that. Originally it was going to be Charlie herself up on that roof, considering she was technically the strongest of them. Her lack of battle experience had been obvious however when they had discussed strategy in the days leading up to the extermination, and Alastor had volunteered to do it instead while she assisted Vaggie and Rosie with the ground troops.

Her gaze flickered from the rolling red countryside outside to the equally red demon sitting rigidly opposite her, who had shut his eyes once again. He didn’t need to do any of that if all he wanted was a deal.

Besides, there was also a part of her that was just a little, teeny-tiny, but curious what he’d ask from her. Alastor already had raw power, more than most overlords in fact, though he did not seem terribly interested in accumulating territory as the others did. In fact, Charlie wasn’t even sure he had any. She’d certainly never heard of him being involved in any turf wars anyway. Which made him odd, as far as overlords went. Even Rosie had cannibal town – though, maybe he shared that part of the city with her, the same way the Vee’s shared their turf?

What else could he ask from her, besides power? Their deal had been rather open ended, it could be quite literally anything and unfortunately Charlie didn’t think she knew him well enough to predict what he might request. Not for lack of trying either! But the man was a bit of a walking contradiction from what she’d seen these last few months.

She knew he hated sweets, but he would make beignets dusted with powdered sugar at least once a month and had personally seen him eat at least four in one sitting before. He hated technology, but had insisted on one of the finest coffee makers they could buy after refusing to drink the ‘swill’ their busted up one had been making when he moved in. The bookshelf in their shared office had once held nothing but a few folders and books she’d found on ‘self-help’, but soon became filled with first edition classics that where so expected of him that she’d actually laughed when one day she discovered the bottom shelf was nothing but fairytales, poetry and romances. He claimed only to be at the hotel for the entertainment of watching them fail, but when she had been ready to give up he’d practically kicked her out of bed and encouraged her (in his weird twisted way) to keep fighting.

Charlie sighed. No, she couldn’t guess what he’d ask of their deal. He might be just as likely to as for a cup of sugar as he was to demand anything else. He’d have a plan for it, no doubt, but for now she was in the dark as to what that plan might be.

Then again, perhaps if she got to know him better she might have a better idea of his intentions? The hotel, even mostly empty as it stood now, was a rather chaotic place to be at the best of times – most of her conversations with Alastor revolved around business or where interrupted by the others (usually Angel tormenting either Husk or Vaggie to the point of risking blood being drawn, or Nifty chasing a wayward co*ckroach not heeding who might be in her way and climbing one – or both – of them like a cat in a tree). Oh they’d had a few conversations here and there, they shared an office after all, usually about music or books (though, as of yet she’d not broached the subject of the fantasy/poetry/romance shelf despite the fact she was dying to ask him about it). He was charming, even when he wasn’t putting on airs, and could talk for hours on music he liked, or debate her on books they happen to have read and interpreted the stories differently. She enjoyed his company, so maybe while they where away from the hotel she might get a chance to know him better?

The train jerked so suddenly even Charlie was startled, another engine on the opposite track rocketed past their window, passing so close by the screech of metal could be heard as she carriages brushed one another. Razzle shot out of her lap with a bleat, darting out of the carriage completely and into the bathroom next door, door shutting with a slam. The princess sighed, at least he’d managed to make if to the bathroom this time…

Alastor shuddered in his seat, partially thrown by the force of the train, his ears folding flat at the harsh sound of metal-on-metal screaming worse than any tortured soul he’d encountered. The pain was too much on his already frayed nerves, his smile twisted to a grimace as he scowled, a hiss escaping between his clenched teeth that he could only pray (ha, ironic) that Charlie did not hear.

“It won’t be much longer, I promise” she said, once the noise had stopped.

He barely heard her, with the ringing in his ears, eyes still clamped firmly shut.

Charlie considered him, he didn’t seem in danger of losing his breakfast like Razzle, but it was hard to miss the way his clawed fingers and curled into the fabric of his seat and pierced it, exposing the white foam cushion beneath. “Hey Al’, did you ever take the train when you were alive?”

The question, asked in an irritatingly soothing tone, seemed random and he couldn’t help opening his eye ever so slightly to peer at her. She was gazing at him with those big eyes, an encouraging, hopeful, look on her entirely too expressive face.

He considered remaining silent, refusing to grace her ridiculous question with a response. What kind of question was that, anyway?

Yet, he found himself answering unbidden from his thoughts, he said “I did. Not terribly often mind you, though from what I remember the ride was considerably… smoother.”

“Ah-ha, yeah…” Charlie chuckled “Angel told me once that Hell isn’t very different from earth, only you find the worst versions of things here than up there. I suppose the same is true of the trains!”

The effeminate spider wasn’t wrong, Alastor thought, though he was a little horrified to be agreeing with him on anything – even a matter as trivial as this.

“I wonder why that is?” she continued to chatter “I mean, besides it just being that this is hell… I suppose physics works slightly different here, but I wouldn’t know a whole lot about it – I was never very good with science when I was in Hell School, haha, in fact I wasn’t allowed to participate in a whole lot of experiments – too, how did our teacher described it? ‘Pyrokinetically inclined’ I think it was. Afraid I’d accidentally blow stuff up, which in my defence, only happened once!”

She was blathering. Alastor held a sigh, it was clear she would not be leaving him alone anytime soon – nor was there much he could distract her attention with at the moment. If she really wanted to talk, he may as well get some information from her.

“Tell me, my dear” he interrupted before she could launch into explaining how she’d almost blown up her school that one time, and asked “as it is my first time to one of these events, what should I expect?”

Charlie stopped, surprised by his question, but answered, “ah, well. The entire Conclave usually lasts for around a week, but don’t worry! It’s not all boring meetings, usually meetings only take place in the morning. My mother told me they arranged to spread them out since occasionally things can get a bit heated, so the large breaks between sessions can allow tempers to simmer… or demons to battle out their differences, though that doesn’t happen too often. Which reminds me – fighting is permitted, but not inside the building and not to the death. If you decide to take your anger out on someone, please keep that in mind.”

“I have no intentions on turning the event into a battle royale” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. Even if he had been strong enough… well, if he was strong enough he wouldn’t have needed to come on this blasted trip at all.

“Of course not, I didn’t mean…” she trailed off as he observed her with a raised eyebrow “well… you’re pretty much free to do whatever you want with your free time. Most use it as a good chance to mingle, strike up business deals and the likes. Some of the royal families use it to discuss betrothal arrangements and overlords like Carmilla Carmine can make trade deals with demons from the other rings when she can’t go there herself.”

He thought about telling her that Carmilla had plenty of hell born demons under her employ who could move between the rings to do business on her behalf, but dismissed it as unimportant. Instead, he focused on what she had mentioned regarding royal families and betrothals – an archaic tradition, though one he could understand, if one was to be married there may as well be some add benefits to it. The words from the p*rn star the night before flittered across his mind, something about protecting Charlie from ‘sleaze balls’ and fixed the princess in front of him with a narrow gaze as he asked, “ah, and I suppose you have not quite been spared the interests of betrothal?”

Her expression turned comically sour, “unfortunately not.”

“Understandable, given who you are, really. I imagine you would be considered quite the prize, sweetheart.”

“Thankfully, my parents turned down every offer. They believe that, if I do marry, it should be for love like they did… of course, it never stopped them trying to steer me towards demons they considered ‘appropriate’, but they haven’t done that since my teens” she huffed, folding her arms and fixing him with a glare, “and, for the record, I am no one's prize.”

“Of course, dear, no offence meant.”

She drummed her fingers against her folded arms for a moment, considering if his apology was sincere. Dropping her arms, she continued “don’t worry, you’re not the only one to have thought like that, I guess. Even now, some can be quite… insistent. With my reputation I suppose they assume I’ll be easy to push around.”

He scowled at her implication, but still, he asked “whatever do you mean by that?”

Gaze turned to the view passing by their window, Charlie actually laughed, “oh come on Al’, I’m not that stupid – I know what others think of me. I know they think I’m weak because I don’t like fighting or flaunting my title and family's wealth. That they think I’m an easy target because I prefer peaceful solutions over violence.”

She looked him in the eye as she said that last part, and Alastor wondered if she was aware he’d had the same opinion of her when they had first met. He still considered her naïve, yes, but there was a determination there to follow her ideals that made him acknowledge she wasn’t quite what he’d first assumed. He dismissed the thought however, if she had known his thoughts surely she would not have accepted him into her hotel, or been so easily persuaded to make a deal?

Then again, this was the same princess who had accepted a simple apology from Sir Pentious when it was revealed had had come to the hotel as a spy for Vox and the other vees, and allowed him to continue staying under her roof. The same princess who went out once or twice a week to give out hand drawn flyers to sinners who openly mocked her, pushed her, and threatened her. The same princess who, despite the hurt, allowed her ex-girlfriend to stay by her side despite knowing her lies and true nature as an exorcist who had no doubt killed hundreds of her people. It was entirely possibly she had a very good idea of his initial thoughts on her, and allowed him in anyway, in some vain attempt to either redeem him, or simply use him to assist in making her hotel dreams a reality.

A silly thought. He had no desire to be redeemed even if such a thing was possible, and the idea of her using him for her own gain was laughable – such deviousness was simply not in her nature, she’d have lasted barely a day before breaking down and confessing to him!

Yet, despite opening admitting to himself that he too had these thoughts of her, he found it bothered him to know that others had considered using her good nature to bully her into courtship. He imagined far too many demons were interested in the idea of corrupting sweet Charlie, a feat that would – in the end- be his alone. Not that he wished to do so in quite the same way, so really the idea of others manipulating her in an effort to crawl into her bed should not have caused his lip to lift into a sneer the way it did, but the idea of anyone getting this filthy, undeserving, paws on the princess troubled him. Then again, he’d always had a rather territorial steak.

“If that is true then perhaps it is a good thing I decided to escort you, sweetheart. Be sure to let me know if anyone gives you trouble.”

“I can handle it if anyone gets too out of line” Charlie assured him, with a casual grin “I’m just not supposed to, it’s not very ‘princess-like’ to throw someone trying to grope you into a pool, or so I’ve been told.”

He laughed, or at least tried to, if the action had not sent shocks of pain through his chest. He smothered the pained sound with a cough, and thankfully Charlie was distracted by Razzle finally returning to the carriage. The goat demon walked rather than flew, stumbling on unsteady legs, and looking a little green around the gills as he held his stomach. Charlie made a sympathetic sound, lifting him onto the seat beside her and letting him cuddle into her side.

“I have no doubt, my dear” he said when he recovered himself, pleased when his voice came out only a little strained, and was quick to distract her from that fact by asking, “tell me, is attendance to these meeting mandatory?”

“Oh” she frowned, thinking about it for a second “well, I suppose not – at least not for you anyway - but isn’t that the whole point of attending?”

“Merely planning ahead, should I find it a waste of my time. You must attend every meeting?”

“I have to, at least until my dad can get here” Charlie pouted “as he is the king, and the literal sin of pride, and I’m filling in for him I kind of have to be there to oversee everything. Not that I’ll have to do much, just nod and agree. I wouldn’t blame you for skipping, honestly.”

“I cannot decide if it's refreshing or worrisome our princess is so disinterested in the running of her realm” he quipped.

“It’s not that I’m uninterested!” she retorted, sitting up straighter “I just… don’t have a whole lot of power to do anything. My father might, but I’m not anywhere on his level – and he’s not been particularly interested in changing anything for the last ten thousand years… maybe if the hotel is a success…”

Alastor chuckled, it still hurt his wounded chest but not nearly as much as a full laugh might, and crossed his legs. “I tease, my dear.”

“Right…” Charlie still frowned a little, “anyway. There is a welcome dinner tonight, it's not mandatory per say but it is expected that everyone attends. Meetings won't start until tomorrow morning.”

“I suppose I can manage dinner.” He wasn’t entirely certain of that, after this hellish train ride his entire body felt aflame, every movement sending needles of pain into his very nervous system – but he had managed to fake it this far with her none the wiser. What would a few more hours be? Besides, from the sound of it he would be able to spend most of the trip avoiding contact with anyone else. If he was truly lucky, he would finally get some uninterrupted rest, and perhaps this damn wound would finally heal.

Alastor was able to fake sleep for the rest of the train journey, with Charlie distracted by the poorly Razzle, she had at some point begun to sing soft lullabies he had never heard before – her voice almost sending him into a real seep, if it had not been for the jolt of pain he felt every time the train moved.

When they arrived at their destination there was little to see besides the small station sat between two hills of waist-high red grass. Charlie directed him towards a car waiting for them, driven by a dapper looking hell hound with a fur pattern somewhat similar to Husks who bowed deeply when he helped the princess with her luggage but didn’t utter a word even once. The drive from the station to the Lodge was short, and blessedly smoother than the train ride had been despite the country roads.

When the exited the car again, Alastor inhaled deeply – a startlingly familiar scent filling his senses. The wet, earthy scent with just a hint of rotten egg was a smell that transported him to his days as a living man. He had always felt more comfortable in bayou where had grown up than he had in the city.

“Are we near a swamp, per chance, my dear?” he asked, looking to the princess as their driver retrieved her suitcase from the trunk of the car.

Charlie smiled – of course he’d know. She remembered he’d told her once about living in a swamp like environment when he was growing up, of course that was during a conversation about his preferred way to dispose of bodies but that was beside the point. There was a wistful look on his face, and he was breathing deeply as he waited for her answer.

“We are” she admitted “behind the lodge is the boiling lake, which extends out into a swamp. I heard the terrain there is too dangerous to be built on, which is why this place is so isolated. Perfect for a bunch of powerful demons to get together, just in case someone decides to lose their temper.”

Alastor gave a jerky nod. The logic was sound, Pentagram city already suffered with near daily turf-wars. Construction was just about the most lucrative job one could have in the city, as there was never a shortage of buildings in need of repair or rebuilding. He imagined the kind of damage demons of royal status may be capable of could quite possibly decimate a good portion of the city should they lose their tempers. He took another deep breath, angling his face towards the breeze, and sighed. For a moment he forgot his pain, transported in his memory to a dock near his mother’s home overlooking the bayou waters, as a boy he’d spend countless hours there on an evening listening to his radio and watching the fireflies. Perhaps when he was feeling stronger, he could venture into the hellish swamp, it had been so long since he had hunted in one…

Charlie couldn’t help observing him while he wasn’t looking, smiling at his soft expression. It was probably the most genuine expression she’d seen from him, as he always seemed to be putting on a performance for anyone around him. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she might see more of it from him on this trip.

The foyer of the lodge was busy, enough to make Alastor falter in his steps for half a second as he observed the demons around him. Tall and short, some sporting animalistic features like birds, fish and goats. Many of them wore robes, the kind one might expect from royalty, while others appeared far more casual. The one thing they all had in common was power. He could feel it, simmering the air around them like a low boil, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

Upon manifesting in hell, many sinners took on an animalistic appearance that seemed designed to be a personal form of torture. Husker, for example, had a feline appearance when in his life he had not only hated cats, but as they had a habit of attracting those who thought him cute and cuddly for his appearance he had (when he first fell) often been tortured by those who wished to pet him of all things. Alastor had, at first, assumed his deer-like appearance had more to do with his manner of death than anything else. It had taken some months for him not realise the real consequence of his Cervidae form. He was a predator after all, he hunted those weaker than him like it was a fun game (because to him, it was), and truth be told the heightened sense of smell and hearing did help when it came to hunting. However, he was also plagued with the instincts of physically taking the form of prey. Faced with a threat, Alastor was occasionally forced to fight his instincts to freeze or run, which was normally irritating but not too difficult. Of course, he normally wasn’t injured and weak already…

He felt eyes on him as he followed the princess, though when he looked around, he met no one's gaze. He knew they were watching him. They knew he was weak.

Coming here was a mistake.

“-are you sure?” he caught up with Charlie at the front desk, only half listening to her talking with the goat demon behind the counter as his eyes darted around the room. Last thing he needed right now was someone attacking while his guard was down.

“’M sure” the goat demon responded in a slow voice.

“Urgh” Charlie dragged a hand down her face and turned to her red-clad companion. He appeared oblivious, gaze flittering around the room while he stood rigid at her side. “Alastor, did you let anyone – besides me – know you changed your mind and decided to come to the Conclave?” she asked, snapping his attention back to her.

“I did not” he started a little at the sound of his name, tilting his head towards her, gaze flickering to a rather large reptilian demon as it passed them by, smiling in a way that looked more like he was baring his teeth, “was I supposed to?”

“Well, yeah” Charlie twisted her fingers, “No one else knew you were coming, so there isn’t a room booked for you.”

“Ah, no matter my dear- I can pay for a room now!” he assured, wanting nothing more than to get this over with and retire to said room. If he had it his way he’d disappear behind a closed door and not see her – or anyone else – until this week was done.

“Ain’t got no more rooms” the goat demon behind the desk bleated uninterestedly, inspecting the claws on one hand.

“Excuse me?” His neck snapped in that way that made most demons flinch, though the goat behind the desk never even glanced at him.

“Fully booked. Lotta demons.”

Alastor twitched. His skin was on fire, his chest felt damp and sticky whenever he moved (no doubt his dressing needed changed again) and his pulse raced. He was surrounded by powerful demons with little chance of defending himself should one of them decide to be rid of him. His gaze darted around the room again, and fought the urge to pin his ears back against his head, aware his smile was beginning to look like snarl…

“You can share with me” Charlie suggested suddenly, “it should be large enough, with plenty of room for us both-“

“-yes, yes that sounds fine” he agreed, waving a hand as he turned away to face the rest of the room, giving her his back.

Charlie wasn’t oblivious to the strained tone he’d used, waiting for the receptionist to find her key she couldn’t help watch him from her corner of her eye. He still looked pale, a little clammy in fact, and he twitched anytime someone passed too closely by them – his smile was not a friendly one, rather a ‘touch-me-at-your-peril’ sort of look, she was surprised he wasn’t growling. She was almost certain she’d seen his shoulders tremble.

Maybe she’d been wrong on the train, he wasn’t motion sick like Razzle. Maybe he was just regular sick? It might explain his odd behaviour lately – she herself was guilty of becoming rather irritable whenever she felt under the weather. Poor Alastor… he really shouldn’t have come if he wasn’t feeling well, he should have stayed at the hotel and rested!

Key in her hand, Charlie led the way to the Lodge’s elevator – nodding hello to a few demons she recognised as she passed – and hit the button for the top floor. The doors groaned shut, leaving her alone with Alastor and Razzle as cheesy music played. None of them spoke, though she did have to hiss at Razzle to stop him pushing every single button on the elevator's keypad when he realised, they lit up. Every now and then she couldn’t help but cast a glance towards Alastor, standing in the corner with his arms behind his back and lips pressed into a thin smile, eyes lidded, he looked relaxed – if you didn’t notice the grip his claws had on his own arms.

When they finally got to the room and she unlocked the door, he practically ran inside. He barely looked around, spotting a large high-backed chair and flopping down on it with all the grace of a puppet with its strings cut, eyes shutting with a relived look as she shut the door behind them with a click. Charlie frowned – even if she hadn’t noticed anything before, that alone would have been enough to set off alarm bells in her head.

Before she could say anything her phone in her back pocket began to ring its obnoxious tune, startling her as she scrambled to retrieve it from her back pocket, casting Al’ an almost apologetic glance when he cracked one eye open. “H-Hi-hello!”

“Charlie?” Vaggie’s voice was only slightly distorted over the phone, but not enough to be unrecognisable. Fluttering beside her, Razzle’s pupils narrowed to slits and he hissed at the phone before retreating over to the seating area where Alastor sat with shut eyes once again.

“Vaggie – ah, hang on one sec!” she spotted the sliding glass doors opposite, leading onto a balcony overlooking the boiling lake and swamp land beyond. Moving quickly she exited to the balcony, shutting the door behind her, giving Alastor some peace. Upon spotting Razzle still glaring through the glass doors she couldn’t help but sigh… would he ever learn to trust Vaggie again?

“Charlie, you there?”

“I’m here, sorry, just moving to another room. Hi Vaggie, what’s up? Is the hotel okay?”

“The hotel is fine, we even got through some of the trust exercises you left us – though, trust falls went about as well as they did the first time we tried it” Vaggie said dryly, in the background she could hear Angel Dust cackling, “we’re just checking in, making sure you got there okay.”

“We did – we just checked in in fact!”

“And everything is okay, right?”

“Ah, well…” Charlie hesitated “no one’s misbehaved or anything. Razzle got a bit travel sick on the train, and I don’t think Al’ was all that thrilled about it either…”

There was a pause until Vaggie, sensing more, prompted “…and?”

“Ah-ha, what do you mean? ‘And’ nothing?” Charlie laughed nervously.

“Charlie…”

“Well… I mean, there may have been a mix up with the rooms…”

“…”

“…so, we’re sharing. It’s not a big deal or anything– the room is more than big enough!” Charlie peered through the glass windows into the room, “there’s a massive bed, and a seating area with a couch so we won't need to share or anything like that– I don’t mind sleeping on there for a few days. Its only until dad shows up anyway, then we’ll be straight back to the hotel!”

“…”

“… Vaggie?” Charlie winced at the silence, holding the phone closer to her ear when she heard rustling on the other end.

“’lo, Charlie, you still there?” Angel Dust’s voice came on the line.

“Yeah? Where’s Vaggie?”

“Right here, dunno what you just said but she’s got this real weird look on her face – honestly I’m not sure if I should start runnin’ or what, but-HEY!”

“-Gimmiethat! What in god's name do you mean you’re sharing a room!?” Vaggie must have snatched the phone back, and yelled loud enough that Charlie pulled the phone from her ear to avoid being deafened.

“Wait, they’re sharing a room?!” Angel’s now distant voice cried, followed by uproarious laughter “well damn, didn’t think that creepy f*cker had it in him!”

“It’s not like that!” Charlie yelled, pulling the phone close again “they ran out of rooms! And I’ll sleep on the couch!”

“Charlie,” Vaggie huffed, “look, your sleeping arrangements aren’t what worry me… okay, they worry me a little – but that… it’s not by business anymore who you share a bed with.”

“Vaggie…”

“What I’m worried about is him. Charlie, the guy is a predator! I mean… not like in that way, but… you know what I mean! He’ll wait for you to have a weak moment and strike, just like last time, and what if I’m not there to protect you again?!”

“You don’t need to protect me, Vaggie” Charlie rubbed her temples “I’m a grown demon, I don’t need a babysitter. And Al’ isn’t going to do anything to me. It will be fine. As long as he doesn’t snore- then he might be the one in danger! Haha!”

“Charlie…”

“Vaggie,” Charlie sighed “can we just… drop this topic? We’ve talked about it a thousand times already, I know you don’t really trust Al’ – especially after the whole deal thing, and yeah I agree it wasn’t a great move on his part – but I’m willing to give him a chance. We’re never going to agree, but I don’t want to keep arguing with you over it either…”

Vaggie was quiet for a moment, then agreed “alright, I’ll stop mentioning it – but I’m not going to drop my guard either. If he so much as sneezes in a way that threatens yo-uh-the hotel, I swear…”

“I can live with that” Charlie agreed with a hum, “though, that would be quite the sneeze! Now, tell me how the trust exercises went!”

The princess chatted with Vaggie (with the occasional interruption from Angel) over the phone for a while longer, talking about the exercises and what they could do to improve the outcome in the future, or the general shenanigans the residents had gotten up to that day (apparently Nifty got stuck up a chimney chasing a rather persistent roach, and it had taken but Husk and Angel to pull her out, though she’d attempted to run right back up again once she was freed). Charlie leaned against the wood railing of the small balcony as they spoke, looking out over the bubbling lake, enjoying the breeze that teased the strands of hair that had worked their way free of her ponytail ties across her face, until Vaggie said she had to go as the pizza they had ordered had arrived. Charlie couldn’t help but smile at her phone once the call had ended, right before she turned and headed back inside.

The sight that greeted her stopped her dead in her tracks, her brain struggling to understand for a second, before a she grinned widely and squeezed her cheeks in her hands at the adorable sight. Still sitting in the high backed chair he’d claimed when they entered the room, Alastor had fallen asleep – head rolled to one side and shoulders drooped as he took shallow breathes being her only clue that he truly was unconscious this time. On his lap, Razzle had curled up with his tail wrapped around himself and little clawed paw kneading on the radio demons leg.

If only he didn’t distort photographs, Charlie thought, glancing at the phone still in her hand. She was half tempted to raise the camera and snap a shot anyway, no one would believe her without proof, but was half afraid he’d have some weird sixth sense and wake before she could take the picture.

Best to let him rest, if he really is sick.

As if hearing her thoughts, Alastor took a sharp breath – she froze, half expecting him to wake – but he released it in a sort of whimper, his shoulders trembling.

Was he cold? Charlie hovered by his chair, hand half raised to press against his head only to remember his aversion to touch before she made contact and snatched her hand away. Startling him awake like that didn’t seem a good idea.

With a flick of her finger, Charlie used her magic to light the stone fireplace beside the chair. If Al’ was cold, hopefully it would help.

They had a few hours before the welcome dinner would begin, so she decided to let them both sleep until it was time to go, fetching a book she had packed along for the trip and one of her notebooks. She had packed a few books on self-help and redemption in the hopes she might come up with a few ideas for new activities for the hotel while she was away – nothing like a change of scenery to inspire you!

Charlie settled on the sofa by the high back chair and tucked her legs beneath her as she cracked the book open, popping the end of her pen between her teeth to chew on it thoughtfully as she took in the words.

Movement in the corner of her eye distracted her.

Lifting her eyes, Charlie almost screamed at the dark shape looming over them – only to realise before much more than a startled squeak could pass her lips that it was just Alastor’s shadow. She knew it could move on its own, had seen him use it several times in fact, but to see it move independently when he was asleep was a little unnerving. It loomed on the wall by the fireplace, looking terribly out of place with where it should be compared with the light, she wondered at it for a moment, thinking it looked odd. It was watching Al’ which she guessed wasn’t shocking considering that’s who it belonged to, but it seemed almost… worried.

Which was silly, Charlie rolled her eyes at herself and turned her attention back to the book in her hands.

Why would a shadow be worried?

Chapter 3: Dinners and Sinners

Chapter Text

Alastor had not meant to fall asleep. Or perhaps ‘pass out’ was the more accurate term, as it was perhaps truer to say unconsciousness had crept up behind him and stole him from the waking world with nary a warning. It was the smell of wood burning that first lured him from slumber, the familiar sound of a crackling fireplace coaxing him further, until finally he blinked awake with no recollection of having fallen asleep in the first place.

He could see the crimson sky of hell was a few shades darker, so a few hours must have passed since they’d come to the room. He was still in the chair, the sofa opposite had a pile of books and gel pens stacked on the arm, but he saw no sign of the princess these things no doubt belonged to.

Something shifted on his lap, dragging his attention to the fact there was an unfamiliar warm weight there he hadn’t registered before, to find Razzle blinking blearily up at him from the perch he’d taken atop his tights. Alastor blinked in surprise at first, then his expression twisted to a sneer at the audacity of the goat demon to invade his space like that. He could forgive its stupidity, but tolerating it was out of the question.

He moved to shove him off, intending to stand and brush his trousers of any evidence as he hoped Charlie had not seen that undignified sight. In his lap, Razzle snorted, and claws dug into his flesh through trousers as if reading his thoughts. Alastor froze at the sensation, hands half raised to push him off, as the goat demon yawned and wiped it’s face with a paw as it gave a sniff. It sniffed again, this time in his direction, the act of an animal catching an interesting scent as familiar to him as it was breathing. Razzle inhaled deeply, facing Alastor as his eyes turned to narrow slits, the claws digging deeper into his thigh as a growl – sounding far too large for the little demon – began to drown out the crackle of the fireplace.

Alastor would be lying if he said he did not feel a little worried in the moment, able to feel the weight of the demon in his lap beginning to change as Razzle’s body seemed to grow – the snarling only deepening with it – his eyes never leaving his own. Should the dragon-goat decide he was a threat now, for whatever reason, and assume it’s monstrous form he would be at quite the disadvantage. Even now, as he began to weigh his options, he knew a physical fight was far beyond his current capabilities – not when he could feel the pain of the wound on his chest settling like an old friend in his aching bones. Magic, he might fare better with, though he’d only have one good hit in him…

There as a click of a door opening and a blessedly familiar voice, “Oh, you’re both awake!”

Both Alastor and Razzle’s attention snapped to Charlie, exiting from an adjoining bathroom the radio demon had failed to notice earlier, having apparently been in there to change her attire. He had rarely seen her wear anything beside her red pantsuit, so Alastor felt his eyebrows raise to see her now – the dress she wore was simple, a sleeveless halter-neck that left her long pale arms exposed, the skirt reaching her knees clad in knee high socks, bleeding from black into a deep burgundy. It was backless, he noticed, when she turned ever so slightly to check her appearance in the nearby mirror self-consciously tucking a stray strand of her blonde locks behind her ear. By some amazing feat she’d managed to tame her massive amount of hair into an updo, on which balanced the black tiara he’d only seen her wear the day they met Adam in battle.

Turning back to the pair who had said nothing in reply to her greeting, the princess observed their position with a slightly concerned frown as she finally noticed Razzle had begun to transform into his larger draconian form, she hurried over and fetched the smaller from Alastor’s lap.

“Awww, Razzle, did you have a nightmare again?” she cooed softly, petting him as he began to shrink back to his regular size within her arms – though he still kept his narrowed glare on Alastor, baring his teeth. Odd, thought Charlie, he’d only been having that reaction to Vaggie so far…

And there was certainly nothing angelic about Alastor for him to be reacting to!

“Hush now, it’s just Alastor – he’s a friend” Charlie’s voice was stern, but gentle, as she placed him down on the large four poster bed across the room from the radio demon, whom she turned back to address, “I’m sorry about that Al’. He’s been a little… well, since we lost Dazzle…”

“No harm done, my dear” he murmured, noticing the goat demon continued to glare at him around his mistress's waist, but recovered himself in time to add in a forcefully bright tone, “I must say, you look rather fetching, I was unaware this dinner was to be such a formal event!”

“Ah, well…” Charlie gave a self-conscious chuckle and tugged at the hem of her dress “I am crown princess and all that, there are certain expectations of my appearance… at least that’s how mom would put it. But thank you!”

“Then, as your escort for this evening, I suppose I should follow your example and dress in the appropriate attire!” he pulled himself up from the high back chair, immediately hissing through his teeth when his entire body complained at the movement.

“What you’re wearing is fine, Al’, no need to do that!”

“Nonsense, sweetheart – If we are to be keeping up appearances tonight, I shall not be the one to let you down” he strode to the bathroom stiffly, his movements usually so fluid Charlie couldn’t help but notice.

“Are you feeling alright, Al?” she tilted her head, a small frown on her precious features.

“Quite” he waved off her concern “simply stiff from sleeping in that chair. Don’t worry about me, doll. I’ll be out in a moment.”

He did not give her a moment to respond before he shut the bathroom door, immediately leaning on it once he was safe from her prying eyes. His shadow sprang forth from the floor, its head tilted, and ears laid back in concern for its master, before it produced from its dark hand the medical supplies he so desperately needed.

Alastor took them, resting them on the counter by the sink, he leaned against the basin and glared at his own haggard reflection. Truly the princess must be blind not to see there was something wrong with him, not that he was complaining. He didn’t want her to know, after all. Not only was his hair in complete disarray, his beige skin was at least two shades paler than usual and coated with a faint sheen of perspiration that did not surprise him – he felt like his insides where on fire – and he bags beneath his eyes where more prominent with the change in his complexion. He looked utterly dreadful.

And he felt even worse.

Still, the show must go on – to not show his face would to be admitting weakness, something he could not afford. With slow movements, he removed his jacket lying it safely across the counter as he unbuttoned his shirt and removed that too, exposing the mess of bandages across his torso that where now an unsightly mix of red and gold from his oozing wound.

He removed them swiftly, for to do so slowly would only prolong the experience, wincing as each one tore off his skin. The revealed wound looked even worse than it had the night before, the skin around it raised angry and red, with gold still oozing from it as well as etching across his skin like lightening marks. As he cleaned it with warm water and gauze, lips pressed firmly together to keep any pained sounds he might have wanted to make in lest the princess outside the door hear him, he considered the possibility of an infection? Could angelic wounds become infected? The only person he could think might know would be… well… Lucifer himself – and he certainly wasn’t about to stoop as low as asking that buffoon for help! No, when he got a chance perhaps, he might be able to sneak off to the swamp beyond the Lodge - St. John's wort still grew in hell, something that had been handy to him more than once and was known to grow in wetlands. If he was lucky, he might stumble across a patch.

Aware he was being waited on, he made quick haste of redressing the wound barely waiting for his skin to dry before he wrapped the bandage clumsily around himself. It was not neat, tidy or at all perfect, but it would hold for a few hours. No doubt he would need to do it again later, preferably once Charlie had gone to sleep.

He snapped his fingers and felt immediately drained as the magic left his body to obey his whim – gone was the sweat on his skin, his mused hair returning to his usual uniform straightness. He stood before the mirror now dressed in a white button-down shirt, a crimson cumme*rbund around his waist, and he’s swapped his regular flared coat for a tailcoat in matching colours, topped off with a black bowtie. It was a small difference, but classy enough to match the princess he thought.

Taking an extra moment to regain his equilibrium, taxing so much of the strength he’d regained with his impromptu nap, he gave himself one final glance in the mirror before he joined Charlie once again.

The blonde was sat on the edge of the bed petting Razzle (who immediately bared his teeth upon Alastor’s re-entry) and looked up when the bathroom door clicked. She gave a faint smile at his refreshed appearance, but there was a trace of something else in her expression…

“Something the matter, dear?” Alastor asked, only a little annoyed. Surely this outfit met her standards!

“No, nothing is the matter!” she replied quickly, and then when he kept staring at her she added “I just thought that maybe… If, for any reason, you aren’t feeling up to this big dinner thing, you don’t have to go – I’m sure I could make up some excuse for you.”

His head tilted to the side, though not quite sharply enough to crack his neck as he was known to do, and regarded her for a moment with narrowed eyes. Ah, crap – wrong things to say, she thought, but kept his gaze, having the sinking feeling she’d offended his pride with her offer, and half expected him to go on some tirade about how she was silly to assume such things. Complete with creepy shadow effects and a murderous grin usually.

Instead, he turned away from her sharply and made for the door, saying in a tone that came out just a little too bright “nonsense, my dear, though I’m flattered by your offer – how courteous of you to remember I am not so fond of these events!”

Standing to follow him, Charlie couldn’t help observing him from the corner of her eye. He looked exhausted, despite having slept a few hours, and from the forced wideness of his trademark smile she knew he was annoyed. Still, she gave him an out (without explicitly stating she knew he felt unwell, even!) and he had not taken the offer. What was she supposed to do, tie him to the chair and force him to rest while she went to dinner?

As amusing as the thought was, his retaliation should she do, that would probably not be worth it.

While he had been asleep, she couldn’t help observing him, and not in a creepy way! Though, it had been interesting to see him sleep but that was beside the point. He had been restless the entire time, particularly violent twitches of his body often causing him to emit pained sounds. Several times she had half a mind to wake him, if only so she didn’t need to hear him make those sounds again, but something in her gut told her he needed the rest. It also told her that there was more going on here than simple travel sickness, the fact he’d woken up looking worse for wear was just proof of that in her eyes. Had this been any of her other friends she’d had insisted they stay in the room and rest. But this was Alastor, the radio demon, she knew there was no use pressing him on the matter. He could be as stubborn as she was, after all, and would probably see something as simple as admitting he was under the weather as an unacceptable weakness. As much as Charlie hated it, it was better to back off – wait and see if he’d come to her on his own, and hopefully her kindness and patience would pay off before he allowed himself to get any worse.

Standing in front of him now, she looked up at him from beneath her thick eyelashes, “If you’re sure, we should head downstairs then.”

“Lovely,” he drawled arching an eyebrow at her seemingly innocent words and expression, for they had come across almost like a challenge in his mind, Alastor reached for the door, opening it for her with a slightly exaggerated bow. “Ladies first, my dear.”

She exited the room holding in a sigh, more than aware when he fell into step beside her as the room door shut behind them, locking automatically. Again, she couldn't help but be aware of his rigid posture, the way his arms where clasped tightly behind his back, lips pressed into a thin smile – she was certain she saw his eye twitch. Okay, so he wouldn't admit there was anything wrong (even when she could clearly see there was!) nor had he taken her offer to stay in the room. She would just have to keep a close eye on him, make sure he did not tax himself too much, and run interference if he did happen to piss off the wrong demon (for she had no illusions that he might, considering he’d been willing to pick a fight with her father of all people!). Of course, she’d somehow have to do it without injuring his pride, knowing just how much he had in his abilities. Husk said that was why he’d disappeared after his fight with Adam, licking his wounds in private and probably seething that he’d lost. The cat demon also reckoned his seven-year disappearance had something to do with the battle he’d lost to Vox shortly before he vanished, ‘amongst other things’ the barman claimed.

Wisely, Charlie had never mentioned any of this to Al himself, though she was curious as all heck. She was more than aware that it would probably be Husk’s head if the radio demon knew they were gossiping about him behind his back (despite being an avid lover of gossip himself, the hypocrite). Still, with what she had seen and been told of him, she was surprised Vox had beaten him – though, she’d met Vox a handful of times, and certainly wouldn't have put it past him to have pulled some underhanded trick to make sure he came out on top.

Walking beside the princess, Alastor fought to keep his heart rate steady, casing her the occasional glance from the corner of his eye. So, she had noticed there was something amiss. That, or he was doing a poorer job at hiding it than he thought, and the thoughts swirling in his mind did little to keep him calm.

She knows.

Or she simply remembers I am not one for these tedious gatherings.

She knows.

She’s watching you.

This is Charlie. She is certainly not a threat to anyone.

She's leading you to a room of powerful demons. Of enemies.

She knows you're weak.

“-Al’?” he was startled from his thoughts by his name, peering down at the shorter blonde who was peering at him questioningly, having apparently asked him something.

“I’m sorry, my dear, my mind was elsewhere. What did you ask?”

“I asked if you're ready for your first Conclave” she raised her eyebrow, hand resting on the handle of a massive oak wood door, adding in a teasing tone “there’s still time to run if you change your mind.”

“You say it as if it’s something to fear, sweetheart, what can possibly be so bad about a mindless meeting- Besides the risk of being bored silly?!”

“Hold that thought” the princess snickered, pushing open the gigantic door made from demons thrice her size and revealing the room beyond.

It was a massive hall, certainly designed with many forms of demons in mind, with high ceilings taller than the ridiculously sized door. Painted cherry red, the walls were adorned by large windows that showed a splendid view of the boiling lake and swamp sprawling the back of the property, with crushed velvet curtains a shade of purple so dark it almost appeared black. The hardwood floor was almost unseen for the number of round tables that littered the floor, each already set up with a place marker, with a much larger table sat at the head of the room on a slightly raised platform. A large bar in the corner was already surrounded by demons, a stressed looking imp doing his best to take orders.

All manner of demon filled the room, with most chatting amicably (or at least it looked amicable) amongst themselves. Tall bird like demons, short squat demons, aquatic demons, fluorescent demons, dark demons – Alastor wasn't sure where to look first. Not that this was entirely different from a stroll down one of Pentagram cities streets, where a wide array of demons could be seen on any given day, what made this different was the powerful atmosphere these demons had created. It hit him like an invisible tidal wave, coiling around him and nipping at him, reminding him just what position he was in...

Weak.

“How about a drink, to take the edge off?” Charlie nudged him.

He jolted at her touch, but gave only a nod in reply, his eyes meeting hers only briefly before he raised them to track everything going on in the room around them.

“Anything in particular?” the princess asked, leading him over to the bar where they waited towards the quieter end for the imp behind it to take their order.

“Surprise me” he responded in clipped tones, turning so his back was against the wall and he could observe the room more clearly.

Charlie watched him, for the first time ever thinking that he looked very much like the animal his demon form had taken. She’d seen deer roam in herds from the windows of the palace when she was young, always fascinated with their grace and slender beauty and how quicky that could become sheer power and ferocity when the bucks began to rut. She’d also seen deer on alert, how they would freeze and observe the world around them until they decided it was either safe enough to relax or danger was near and it was time to bolt – Alastor had that same look now.

She ordered them both iced tea – Alastor’s unsweetened – a beverage he had introduced her to when he first arrived at the hotel, so she knew he enjoyed it, and hopefully it would cheer him up a bit. While she waited for the drinks, she noticed Al’ had completely frozen beside her. A cursory glance over her shoulder showed her why.

Of course the Vee’s would be here. Dammit, how had she forgotten that? The three media moguls of Pentagram City where standing by one of the round tables almost directly opposite them – Vox was fiddling with his phone, while Valentino appeared to be observing the room and following every semi-attractive demon he noticed with a particularly lecherous smile. Urgh, Charlie shuddered, wiping at her arm at the sheer memory of him licking her…

The problem came when Velvette, who had apparently been filming a video of the room on her phone, happened to sweep the lens across them. Alastor’s natural ability not to be filmed caused her camera to glitch, the annoyed demoness raised hey eyes to glare, but when she caught sight of them her irritated expression twisted into a smirk. A smirk Charlie didn’t like the look of, not one bit.

Where the heck where those drinks?!

Velvette tapped the arm of her blue-suited companion, though when he shrugged her off and ignored her, she snapped something at him – then folded her arms with a satisfied grin as Vox’s screen flickered all kinds of colours before returning to his face, now set in a horrified expression, as he looked around the room. Valentino, having also heard what Velvette said, rolled his eyes at this.

Vox’s gaze landed on them almost immediately, screen glitching again as the horrified expression slipped into one filled with murderous intent, and began to stalk towards them. Velvette raised her phone to film again looking thrilled.

Alastor noticed the approaching television demon with, he had to admit, a little apprehension. He wasn’t scared to fight Vox, on any better day it would be an easy fight despite whatever had happened in the past, but that was on an better day. Was the other man really foolish enough to start a fight with him here, of all places? From the look on his face it would appear so. With narrowed eyes he watched the other overlords approach, weighing his options. He couldn’t run, he'd be a laughing stock. But Vox had always been easy to manipulate with words, it would likely not be too difficult to-

“-Iced tea!” Charlie presented him suddenly, pressing a tall cold glass into his hand (he really didn’t have any other choice but to accept, or she may have drown him with it with the force she used to hand it over), stepping towards him and away from the bar, placing herself directly between him and Vox.

Alastor allowed his gaze to flicker down to the top of her blonde head only for a moment, returning it to the hostile demon who had paused in his approach once the princess got between them, an uncertain expression on his screen. Charlie wasn’t facing him, nor was she facing Vox, quite innocently sipping on the pink straw she’d plopped in her drink as she stood in a way that kept them both within her sights.

Had… had she done that on purpose?

Alastor shook the thought from his brain as fast as it had entered, foolish. The princess had simply done what she always did, stumble right into the path of trouble, oblivious to it all.

Still a few meters from them, Vox seemed to recover from his hesitance, fixing Alastor with a glare once again he resumed his approach…

… only to completely disappear from Alastor’s sight as a loud siren screeched, a cloud of neon colours obscuring his vision. For a moment the radio demon thought they where under some kind of strange attack, eyes widening in bewilderment, it took a few seconds to realise that the siren he heard was in fact someone screaming, and the colours in front of him where in fact another demon.

“Aunt Bee, I can’t breathe!” Charlie’s muffled voice came from somewhere beneath the obscure mess of colours.

“Ohmysatan, look at my little Charlie, all grown up!” the siren cooed, backing off enough to allow Charlie some air – though two of her four arms had come up to squish the princess’s cheeks, while another pair when to rest on her hips. Alastor finally got a good look at the loud and colourful demon who had seemingly come from nowhere – she had features like a fox, though her limbs where bug-like, reminiscent of Angel Dust, and she boasted insect like wings upon her back. The cloud of neon that had gotten in his way appeared to be hair and a tail, though they moved more like liquid than hair, the colours of them moving in a way that reminded him of clouds.

Alastor then raised his eyes back to the spot he’d last seen Vox, expecting the television demon to be much closer to them now, only to find him frozen to the spot with a somewhat stunned expression – eyes fixated on the fox-bug demon that now accompanied them.

Interesting.

“Oh, Alastor!” Charlie dragged his attention back to her, grinning so widely it was a wonder her cheeks didn’t hurt, “let me introduce you! This is Beelzebub, also known as-

“- the Queen Bee of Glut-ton-y!” the pair said in unison, cackling with mad laughter afterwards in a way that just left him confused. Bee then turned to Charlie, throwing an arm around her shoulders, she asked “ah, f*ck, it’s good to see you girl – bitch, why haven’t I seen you at any of my parties lately anyway? You know you never need an invite to visit your good ol’ Auntie Bee!”

“Well…” Charlie shuffled nervously, “I finally opened my hotel, eh… you… you miiight have heard a news report about it-“

“-waaaait, is that the one when you beat the sh*t out of that reporter lady?”

“Uh, well… no – I mean - kinda?” Charlie hadn’t meant that one at all, surely the fight with heaven had been a bigger story, but then again maybe Bee wasn’t one to tune into the 666 news all that often.

“Damn girl. Saw that. Respect.”

“And I didn’t really beat- ah, not important. What I mean is, I finally got my hotel up and running, thanks to Alastor, or you might know him as the radio demon-“ she grinned up at him, hand reaching out to briefly touch his arm – causing him to flinch just slightly, she quickly removed the unwanted touch.

“The Radio Demon?” Bee folded both sets of arms as she turned her attention to him, eyebrows raised “yeah, f*ck, I’ve heard of you! I like your show! Good f*cking taste in music, which hard to find in hell like seriously, though I’m not really a fan of the periods of screaming terror and carnage. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally ready to throw down when it’s called for, but all that gore just aint my style – gets in my nails, ya’know?”

“I am flattered to have one of the seven deadly sins in my listening demographic” he responded, honestly surprised – at the fact a sin confessed to listen to his show, or the fact this creature was one of the most powerful beings in hell he wasn’t entirely certain.

Bee was giving him an oddly appraising look, gaze flicking between himself and Charlie, before she broke out in a toothy grin. “Y’know, I like the look of this. You two fit together soooo much better than you and that grinning bastard you dated in hell school.”

“Wait, no, we’re not-!” Charlie rushed to explain, feeling her face burn.

“Oh, sh*t!” Bee exclaimed suddenly, eyes widening as she slapped one of her hands to her forehead “totally forgot I was supposed to wake Belphagor up from her nap, f*ck, she’ll kill me if she misses dinner – I gotta go, but we’ll catch up soon sweetie, toodles!”

With a buzz of insect wings, Beelzebub took off across the room above the heads of demons who either paid her no attention or waved (some even curtseyed or bowed), leaving the princess of hell behind with a face almost as red as Alastor’s suit.

“I, a-ha, I’m sorry about that…” she apologised, facing him but not quite meeting his gaze.

“Whatever are you apologising for, my dear?” he asked, tilting his head “why, your ‘aunt’ as you called her was rather… not at all what I was expecting from a deadly sin, but I hardly believe it warrants an apology.”

“I didn’t mean-“ Charlie huffed, wondering if he really was that dense. “You know what, never mind. C’mon.”

She began to make her way around the edge of the crowd, Alastor followed keeping himself as close to the wall as possible, and a whether eye out in case Vox attempted to approach through the crowd again. He half wondered what it was Charlie had been trying to apologise for, as their unexpected meeting with the sin of Gluttony seemed to have gone rather well from where he stood, but quickly shoved the thought to the back of his mind to be pondered over later. He didn’t have the energy right now to focus on trivial matters.

Charlie was trying to make the walk through the room as quick as possible, wanting nothing more than to get out of the crowd, but every few paces it seemed someone would step into her path and she was forced to make small talk with demons she barely knew. She was polite, but she recognised the look on their faces – that patronising tone and barely concealed smirk, and eyes that could not hide their mocking thoughts. Very few of the demons here treated her with real respect, certainly it was none of the ones who had gotten in her way just to make small talk.

Haggard as he was, Alastor would have to be blind and deaf not to notice the princess’s discomfort, though the cause for it was not immediately obvious to him. She had begun her walk through the room carrying her half-drank iced tea in one hand, head held high. By the time they got halfway she’d abandoned the glass on a table she passed, hands fisted into the fabric of her skirt as she kept her gaze down to avoid eye contact and doing her best to sidestep anyone who came into her path. Had he not been using the majority of his attention to be sure no part of his current weakness was being advertised to the room of potential adversaries, perhaps he would have noticed sooner. As it was, it wasn’t until a particularly tall, cold blue, peaco*ck demon had greeted Charlie, that he became aware of the condescending tone the other members of royalty seemed to be using with her – the way they would look her up and down and snicker behind their smarmy smiles (and he was an expert on smiles, he knew the difference!) as if she where little more than a pet that had surprised them with a new trick.

The hands clasped behind his back tightened on his own wrists, aware the grin on his face had taken on something of a hostile edge as he observed the room again, this time more than aware of the gazes that flickered towards Charlie – still walking with her head down - and the whispers that followed.

Now, now, this just would not do. Alastor kept his gaze on the room, but dropped his own death grip on his wrists to press a clawed hand lightly to her bare back momentarily surprised by the exposed skin there having forgotten her dress was backless. He did not remove his hand however, even when she looked up at him in surprised. He grinned widely as her ruby gaze met his own, her eyes searching, until the message clicked in her mind and she smiled back.

Never fully dressed without a smile.

Charlie gave Alastor what she hoped he understood was a grateful look for the silent support he’d offered, moving through the crowd with her head held higher and a smile stretching her lips. She did not feel like smiling, but she wore that grin like armour and did – surprisingly – feel somewhat better for it.

“Ah, just the princess I wanted to see!” a smooth, regal voice stopped Charlie in her tracks to stare up at the demon in her path. Even Alastor had to tilt his head back for this one, standing at least a food above himself and cloaked in a regal robe of deep purples embroidered with gold, the only other feature to see was his white, owl-like face, from witch red eyes glowed.

“Lord Paimon” Charlie greeted, sounding far more relaxed than she had with the fish-like demon who had stopped them a moment ago.

“Princess Charlotte” the lord bowed low to take her hand in his own, pressing his beak against the back of it, before letting it drop to her side again. “I must say, I was most saddened to hear your father would not be joining us this year!”

“I assure you my lord, he would have loved to be in attendance, however the meeting with heaven took precedence I’m afraid” Charlie spoke clearly, with an air of formality she rarely used around the hotel. Beside her, Alastor resisted the temptation to twitch an ear at the change in her dialect.

“Ah, heaven” Paimon sounded amused “must always be at their beck and call. But alas, the things fathers must do for their children! Speaking of, you must meet my son- oh!”

The tall owl demon reached a darkened arm from beneath his robe and appeared to catch (if not possibly summon) a similarly tall, but skinnier looking, owl demon from the crowd. This one wore a waistcoated suit, and a dark star-filled cape, with a hat adorning a crown atop his head. By his side a younger, female demoness with similar features wearing a dark dress was glaring around the room with indifference.

“Stolas! You simply must meet Princess Charlotte, Lucifer’s daughter!”

“Yes, father… we have met” Stolas sighed, sharing a mutual look of tired amusem*nt with Charlie. As he said, it was not the first time they had met – it was more like the fifth or sixth, each one of those ‘meetings’ beginning in a fashion much like this one, as Paimon always seemed to forget introducing them.

“Oh? Oh, good!” Paimon recovered from his surprise swiftly, peering back down at the princess he finally seemed to notice someone accompanied her. The own demon leant down, peering at Alastor like he was a particularly zoo interesting exhibit, “and who might this be escorting you, princess?”

“This is my business partner, Alastor – the radio demon” Charlie introduced, being sure to define their relationship this time to avoid any more assumptions being made. Al’ might have been oblivious to what Bee was implying, but she doubted he’d like it to continue if he had known.

“A sinner!” Paimon exclaimed, standing straight once more “my, my, oh! I so rarely get to interact with your kind! What exactly is a ‘radio demon’, can you turn into a radio?”

“Father!” Stolas hissed, shooting an apologetic look to Charlie and Alastor, who was observing the demon lord with a hooded gaze and smile that betrayed nothing of his thoughts.

“What? It’s true!” Paimon huffed at being scolded, turning to Charlie “I am unfamiliar with, as my son says, ‘things you cannot say’. Personally I think if the words can leave my mouth, I can say them! Any insult felt is not my problem. Besides, you are not offended, are you little fellow?”

Alastor’s smile stretched high on his cheeks, the claws of his hand still against the princess’s back tickled the skin there as his hand flexed, but he responded smoothly “Not at all, perhaps another time I may be so inclined to show you just what a sinner as myself can do.”

Stolas raised his eyebrows, picking up on the barely disguised threat. The young demoness beside him snickered, while Charlie had to fight hard to resist slapping a hand against her forehead. Paimon however, seemed ignorant as he turned to his son “you see? No harm done. Now, if you pardon me Princess I must continue mingling!”

The four watched the tall, oblivious, demon lord disappear off into the crowd. Once he was out of earshot, Stolas sighed “I apologise if my father caused any offence to either of you.”

“It’s fine” Charlie gave him a genuine smile, knowing full well what it was like to have a powerful father who was more than a little odd, perhaps it was why Paimon and Lucifer got along so well – cementing the formers undying loyalty to the king. She turned her attention to the young demoness, whose eyes widened upon gaining the attention of the princess and averted her cerise gaze, “is this your daughter?”

“My pride and joy,” Stolas presented proudly “heir of the Goetia, Octavia”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Octavia” Charlie grinned “I’m Charlie!”

“Nice to meet you, princess”

Alastor tuned out the prattle as Charlie began to engage the young heiress and her father in idle conversation. He was unaware of it, but he swayed ever so slightly where he stood beside the princess. It was getting hotter, though with so many demons in the room that was not unexpected. Still, he couldn’t help tugging on the collar of his suffocating shirt just slightly. He was thirsty. He’d drained the iced tea Charlie handed him without tasting it, though he appreciated her thought to fetch him a beverage she knew he enjoyed, but it hadn’t been enough to wet his parched throat.

“Charlotte” said a voice, the princess barely having time to recognise it before a hard grip on her upper arm tugged her to the side and against a hard body. Arms wrapped around her, hands resting far lower than she appreciated, as she pushed her hands against a hard chest to free herself from the unexpected grip after a moment of shock. Both Stolas and Octavia observed this scene with raised eyebrows, stunned into silence by the audacity of the newcomer.

“Seviathan” Charlie recognised the black and green outfit before she raised her gaze to his face, he’d never been caught dead wearing any other colours for as long as she’d known him, and considering they had grown up together that had been quite a while!

“Been too long, babe” Seviathan grinned lecherously down at her as she struggled in his grip, showing off his bright sharp teeth. He kept his arms around her for a moment longer, just enough to demonstrate that he was choosing to let her go, before releasing her – though he kept an arm slung over her shoulders, fingers biting into her arm. “What you been up to? Been rather busy myself – you don’t make a fortune without breaking a few eggs, am I right? Ha ha!”

“Actually, I opened-“

“-yeah, Von Eldritch Enterprises are absolutely dominating since I took over for my father. He was too afraid to take risks you see, can’t really blame the old fella – it’s a young man’s game out there. But we don’t have to talk about that here, I’m sure we can go somewhere more… private. Don’t even have to talk business at all, if you wanna revisit old times” the dark demon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaving no doubt as to what he referred.

Charlie knew her face was on fire, frozen in his grip as she had been, drowned out when she tried to speak. Stolas appeared to have gotten over his shock, she could see the owl demon was preparing himself to say something to Seviathan and gave him a slight shake of her head not to, eyes wide. Seviathan had never done well with being told ‘no’, in any sense of the word. Should Stolas say anything, the Von Eldritch demon could take offence – and his family would waste little time leaping to defend him from the perceived slight of a Goeita. Last thing Charlie wanted was to be the cause for a feud between two of the biggest royal families in Hell.

“Sev, I don’t-“

“What room you in, babe? I can show you just how much I missed you…” he interrupted, squeezing his fingertips bruising tight into her arm enough to make her flinch. Stolas saw this, his feathers fluffing as he scowled, preparing himself to say something-

-then, suddenly, the grip on her arm was gone. Alastor had the other man’s wrist in his grip, glaring with a maniacal looking smile plastered to his face, he tugged Charlie away from him with a lighter grip on her wrist and tucked her firmly against him. She was surprised, but leaned into him, even going so far as to rest a hand against his chest lightly.

“Bro, what the f*ck?” Seviathan spat, ripping his wrist from the radio demons grip, “can’t you see I’m talking to-“

“-I must say, it’s very rude to invite oneself someplace without explicit invitation from both occupants” Alastor interrupted, tightening his grip on Charlie by his side. Her hand on his chest was unexpected, his eye twitched at the feather light pressure skirting over the bandage covered wound on his chest sending a jolt of pain through his entire body – but chose to channel it into the venomous voice with which he addressed this ‘Seviathan’ demon. He’d seen a picture of him once before in the hotel, shortly before Charlie removed it, in which they’d appeared close. From that, and the brief conversation, he’d hazard a guess the demon was one of her ex-lovers. Though, while she remained on good terms with Vaggie, she did not appear so with this demon, or at the very least he made her uncomfortable.

“Eh?”

“Seviathan, this is my partner, Alastor the radio demon. He’s an overlord in the Pride ring, and we work together at my redemption hotel.” Charlie introduced, hoping that Alastor would remain as ignorant to what the term ‘partner’ could infer as he had been earlier – though, with the way she was clinging to him it would be hard for him to miss the implication she was trying to give.

Seviathan blinked a few times, then scoffed “a sinner? You’d sink so low as to take a sinner to bed?”

Well, if Alastor had been oblivious earlier he damn well wasn’t now. Charlie swallowed, praying to her grandfather he wouldn’t be too upset with her for this later, she nodded.

Then, she almost choked when Alastor retorted, “sink? If you are an example of her previous romantic rendezvous I would say up is the only way one could go!”

“Why you little-“Seviathan growled, then glancing towards Stolas and Octavia still standing nearby, huffed. He pulled on the lapels of his suit jacket and fixed Charlie with a particular stare, “Charlotte, babe, look me up when you’re done dirtying yourself and want a higher calibre of demon – I might have time for you.”

The four of them watched him stalk off into the crowd.

“Charming, isn’t he?” Stolas was the first to speak, though his tone suggested he thought Seviathan was anything but.

“I’m sorry about-“

“-no need for you to apologise for his behaviour, princess” Stolas held up a hand, then with a glance towards Alastor, he added “and might I say, congratulations on your newfound relationship. Do not heed that classist drivel… all that matters is your happiness.”

“Ah, well, actually… I mean, we’re not actually together…”

“Oh” Stolas sounded genuinely surprised, eyebrows raised, looking between the pair, with Charlie still tucked against the red demons side with his arm holding her there with a hand splayed over her waist, her own hand still resting against his chest “well… the pair of you are very convincing.”

Charlie blushed at this, dropping her hand from Alastor’s chest, but the radio demon only snickered and didn’t drop his hand from her waist. If anything his grip tightened, practically leaning on her. He probably thought this whole damn thing was very freaking funny…

“Well, I’m afraid I must bid you adieu and find our seats. Perhaps we can catch up sometime over the next few days, if you have the time?”

“I would like that.”

The owl demon gave a slight bow, then led his daughter away into the crowd – around them demons where beginning to take seats at the round tables as Imp servers began fulling the room carrying silver trays.

“Oh, it looks like dinner is starting” Charlie chirped, oblivious to Alastor’s gaze still tracking Stolas in the crowd, “come on, let’s find our seats!”

He said nothing as she moved out of his grip, letting her go freely this time. Curious that despite the pain it had caused him to hold her close to his body like that, he felt strangely bereft once she was gone. Of course, that might be due to leaning on her to support his tall frame as a wave of fatigue swept him.

Charlie was leading them up to the raised table at the head of the room. As if she sensed his question, she glanced over her shoulder to explain “I figured since you had forgotten to tell them you were coming that they might not have known to include you at dinner, so I made sure they were aware while you were resting. I asked for us to be seated together, if that’s okay? Some of the other sins have brought guests too, so it shouldn’t be too strange for you. We can move you to the table with the rest of the overlords though, if you’d prefer to sit with them?”

He laughed, despite it hurting, “My dear, why would I choose to sit with them when I can have a seat at your side with some of the most powerful demons in hell? Why, I think the sight alone might be enough to fry Vox’s circuits for good!”

“Ah I’m not sure, it’s not really that big of a deal, but at least you’ll have a good view if that happens” she teased.

Their seats where marked with placeholders, written in elegant calligraphy, he vaguely wondered which of the poor imps had to hurriedly make his though the quality was no less than the ones around him. Alastor, ever the gentleman, pulled the princess’s chair out for her to take a seat before he took his own. Charlie smiled up at him as she took her seat, though the expression slipped when she thought she saw something glisten just beneath his hair… but when he moved, taking his seat beside her and immediately pouring himself a glass of water to drink, she tried to peer closer she could see nothing. Just her imagination, or perhaps when Bee and greeted them earlier she’d accidentally littered him with the confetti she was prone to leaving in her wake…

Alastor observed the room before them as the crowd dispersed as demons too their seats. It was clear they were sat by some kind of design, by family or rank he wasn’t entirely certain, though he greatly enjoyed observing a table in the far corner where his fellow overlords where seated – Vox’s circuits did not fry upon seeing him at the head table, but it looked as though they came very close!

He poured himself a second glass of water from the provided jug, draining this one in only a few gulps too. If he had been feeling more himself he would have taken greater pleasure in rubbing this in the face of his old enemy, as it was he felt another wave of fatigue wash over him – his arms felt leaden, like weights had been attached when he wasn’t looking, and allowed them to fall into his lap to rest. Around them the imps with their silver platters dashed around the room, until one had finally placed a plate before him, lifting the lid with a flourish and presenting him with a meal of venison steak, garlic potatoes and assorted roast vegetables.

“They had no idea what Jambalaya was when I spoke to the kitchen” Charlie leaned over to say, playing with the table cloth “but I knew you liked venison! They wouldn’t serve it raw, but I asked them for as rare as possible. Is it okay?”

“Absolutely” he murmured, impressed she’d gone to the effort for him. The meat alone would do wonders for his energy level, carnivorous as he was, he’d have preferred more of it but this would do for now.

“Great” the princess hummed, “I thought it was the least I could do to thank you for coming with me… and for the other stuff. You didn’t have to do that, with Seviathan I mean, and I’m sorry it got weird… I know you don’t like being all touchy-feely like that.”

“No need to apologise, my dear, I would be quite happy to put the miscreant in his place – and while I am not so well versed in these things, might I just say, you could do better.”

“Who could do better?” Bee piped up, having just taken her seat besides Charlie. It had taken far longer to drag Belphagor from her nap than expected, the bleary eyed goat demon taking a seat on the other side of Alastor with a slump.

“Ah,haha… um, no one. Nothing. We just had a run in with Seviathan is all-“

“-oooooh, gotcha. Nah, bitch, he’s right. You could totally do f*cking better. Am I right Oz?”

The large blue rooster looking demon across the table from them, who had been offering a jester looking Imp beside him a taste of his food from his own fork, looked up apparently startled by the sound of his name. Charlie was pulled into a conversation with the pair, mostly defending her choice of relationship when she was in Hell School as being ‘young and dumb’ while the two deadly sins simply recalled examples of appalling behaviour from her ex who had apparently been a semi-frequent patron of establishments run by both demon. Conversation did eventually turn when Charlie asked them to catch her up on anything big in their lives they had missed. Bee gushed to the princess about her boyfriend, Tex, and Mammon got in on the conversation to wind up his fellow sins for having relationships with lower ranking demons – though he was swiftly shut up by Leviathan, who smacked him around the head directing the Sin of Greed’s attention to himself as the pair bickered. Sitting beside them, Satan rolled his eyes, then scolded his young son Damien for antagonizing them further. Charlie giggled behind her hand at that, and suddenly felt transported to her youth – when she was a child the sins had been frequent faces in her life. Her mother had insisted on a good relationship with the rulers of the other rings, had often thrown lavish dinner parties or balls to get them together. Family dinner, Charlie had called it, smiling fondly as she glanced around the table only just realising how much she had missed it. Dinners at the hotel tended to just be her and Vaggie, though even she had taken to eating alone since their breakup, as the others would usually take their meal elsewhere in the building while doing whatever.

Twice she felt something poke her arm, though the touch was feather light she almost thought it was her own imagination when she would turn and find no one there. Then a pinch. She brushed a hand over her arm absentmindedly, but felt nothing there. Another pinch, harder this time.

“Al’, why are you pinching me?” he hissed between her teeth, though she kept facing Satan as he regaled the table with a story about breaking his son’s banjo, trying insist he play a more ‘intimidating’ instrument such as the fiddle, only for Damien to break the fiddle in the same fashion as his banjo, giving the sin of wrath a polite smile and nod as he spoke. The radio demon beside her remained suspiciously silent.

A shove this time, from behind, not very hard but just enough to get her attention. Charlie swung around, quite ready to give whoever was tormenting her a piece of her mind (she half expected it to be one of Damien’s pranks by this point) but there was no one behind her – just the wall.

And a shadow.

Charlie blinked for a second, taking in the shadow waving at her from the shoulder of her own. It was Alastor’s shadow, that much was clear from the ears and antlers, though she hadn’t known it was able to interact with her via her own shadow until now. She tucked that information away for later, questions already buzzing in her mind, to focus on the fact the shadow was frantically pointing beside her.

Following where it pointed, Charlie looked at Alastor’s back and immediately felt ice shiver down her spine. His lack of response made sense now, as one look at the deer demon’s expression made it clear he had completely checked out mentally. His hooded gaze focused on his plate, the venison gone but most of the vegetables remained, eyes glazed over. His smile was toothless, lips pressed firmly together, and he seemed impossibly pale – the dark circles beneath his eyes standing out even worse than they had earlier, skin slick with sweat that caused parts of his hair to appear damp at the root. His hands where fisted tightly in the fabric of his trousers on his thighs. More startlingly, from this angle slightly behind him, Charlie could see the barest glimpse of something just under his collar, a tiny fleck of golden light on his pale skin that looked suspiciously (and dreadfully) familiar…

Not good, not good, not good… sh*t.

Yawning widely, Charlie raised her arms over her head in an exaggerated stretch, exclaiming loud enough to make Alastor jump out of his stupor, “well! I’m absolutely exhausted – must be that long train ride, ahaha. Think I’m going to turn in early, how about you Al’?!”

He blinked at her, but his shadow on the wall nodded and gave a slight clap of its hands. She supposed that was answer enough.

“Girl, you sure? Nights still young!” Bee asked, tilting her head.

“Yep. I’m really tired!”

Bee shrugged, though as the princess stood and waiting for her friend to join her, she couldn’t help exchange a concerned glance with Bel, though the sin of sloth was not quite as in tune with the energies around them as Bee was she had been sat beside the red deer demon long enough to smell something was wrong with him. Sickness was like that, giving off a certain cloying scent that lay thick in her nostrils. It was why she made healthcare (amongst other drugs) her business in hell. Not only did she have a talent for drugs, she had a talent for seeking out the sick – when she wasn’t too tried for it, anyway.

Oblivious to the exchange between the two sins, Charlie called her goodbyes to the others over her shoulder she led Al’ away from the tables – just hoping no one decided to get up and engage her in idle chatter this time, keeping their focus on the food and conversation. Luck must have been on her side this time, or perhaps the determined set to her expression kept them away, as they made it to the exit without anyone so much as glancing in their direction.

Alastor was aware he was walking slower than usual, however his limbs felt heavy and every step forward gave the sensation of walking through pudding, he didn’t wish to risk moving faster and cause himself to stumble so he took deliberate, slow, steps. Charlie was two steps ahead of him, paused on the grand staircase to wait.

“Go on ahead, my dear. I-I’ll catch up” even his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, causing him to stumble over the words just slightly.

“Actually, I was hoping you might help me – I think that glass of wine with dinner went straight to my head, and I feel a little dizzy…” Charlie mumbled, flashing a coy smile as she made a show of swaying on her feet enough to stumble on the step where she stood and crash lightly into him. Alastor gripped her tight, pain flashing his entire body. Charlie wasted no time, even as he gripped the tops of her shoulders hard enough to pierce the skin just slightly with his claws, she settled herself against his side again and wrapped an arm around his waist allowing some of his weight to rest against her.

He paused at this, frowning just slightly to calculate this scenario. There was nothing wrong with him assisting the poor princess, lightheaded from alcohol, to their shared room. No weakness could be inferred from that, though they may assume his attachment to her to be far greater than it was he supposed. No matter, should anyone dare attempt use her against him they’d be in for a surprise. And if he just so happened to lean a little of his weight against her, well, who would be the wiser?

Charlie felt him lean into her and hid her grin by looking at the floor, though a little part of her felt badly for tricking him into accepting the help a larger part of her was frustrated he did not simply ask. She could understand though, Hell wasn’t exactly filled with people offering a hand to those on their worst days - no, they were far more likely to kick you while your down and steal your wallet after unfortunately. As such, there was definitely an air of ‘looking out for number one’ and a fear of showing any kind of weaknesses to those who might cause you harm just because they could.

He didn’t think she’d hurt him though, right?

Leaning against each other, the princess of hell and the radio demon made steady pace through the lodge under the concerned gaze of a shadow that neither noticed follow them. They met almost no one, besides a few shark demons in butler’s outfits who were part of the lodge’s staff and mostly ignored them, with everyone else apparently still downstairs enjoying dinner. Still, Alastor was more than relived when he saw their door.

“I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I am quite ready to turn in. I’ll be a gentleman, and take the sofa-“

His words died in his throat as Charlie unlocked the door and stepped into the room with him following only a step behind, only to fix him with her demon eyes – clear red and pupils pale and slitted – over her shoulder. She grabbed him by the front of his suit, shocking him when she slammed him abruptly against the now closed door.

“Charlie! What-?!” he snapped at her, his entire body on fire from the slam against the door behind him, giving more bite to his tone.

He didn’t get to say much more however, as Charlie growled – without warning she ripped his bowtie from his throat and tugged the collar of his shirt down to expose the glowing gold lines crawling further up his skin. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there, and now she did too.

“Ah. That.”

Chapter 4: Healing Journey

Chapter Text

Charlie remembered when she was a child, her father had taken her out the morning after an extermination had taken place. She remembered her mother had been doubtful it was a good idea, but her father had thought it was an important lesson – something she didn’t understand for a few years. She’d been enamoured with angels and heaven as a young child, something her father must have grown tired and wary of, so he took her out into Pentagram City to see for herself the carnage the exterminators brought to their people. She was a child though, and this was hell, so bodies littering the bloodied streets wasn’t a sight she was unfamiliar with – what had stuck with her was the demons they came across still clinging to life. Their wounds seeped golden light as they whimpered in agony, the heavenly energy corrupting and poisoning their bodies as it fed on their magic and lifeforce… her father explained as she watched on in shock.

She had the same horrified expression as she stared at the same golden veins etching up Alastor’s skin as she held the collar of his shirt down. She knew she’d seen something at dinner, but she hadn’t wanted to believe it was what she thought it was…

“If you are quite done accosting me-!“ Alastor grumbled, gripping her wrists in his own to tug her away from him. Charlie let go easily, though his grip was weak, allowing him to push her away.

“I am not-!” she protested, clenching her fists and shutting her eyes tightly for a moment, looking wetter when she reopened them to level a steady glare upon him “Alastor, why… how long have you been walking around with this poison in your body? Why didn’t you ask for help?!”

Poison? Well, he supposed he was almost right earlier when he had assumed the wound was infected.

“Now, I don’t see why that would be any of your business, Charlotte” he pushed himself back off the door, though he swayed ever so slightly on his feet he was pleased his knees did not completely give way beneath his weight, though it took an embarrassing amount of energy just to remain upright so he could return her glare with one of his own. “If you would excuse me…”

“No!” she snapped, leaping forward to grip him by the arm. Alastor hissed, not only at the audacity she had to grab him but the pain that lanced through his already frayed nerves, practically baring his teeth at her as static screeched. Her grip loosened, but the demoness did not let him go completely. At his threatening sound Razzle, who up until this point had been watching tensely from the sofa, growled and made to move towards them – only stopping when Charlie held up a hand to keep him at bay.

“Unhand me, dear, before things become… unpleasant.”

“I’d say things are already unpleasant” Charlie retorted, her gaze dropping just slightly to view the veins of light etching their way up his neck before meeting his again, straightening her shoulders like she was steeling herself for a fight. “Let me help you, please Al’, I know-“

“-what can you possibly know?” he snapped at her finally, wrenching his arm from her grip as the pain became too much backing up as much as the door behind him would allow. Charlie could only gape, his carefully controlled demeanour melting away before her eyes as something more frantic replaced it, his eyes becoming wild and a frown contrasting the smile that still sat upon his lips. “What is it, Princess? Going to cure my ills with your rainbows and smiles? I think not. And why would you want to help me? I represent everything you loathe do I not? Oh, but I know, you need me – don’t you? Where would your little hotel be without the power of the Radio Demon behind it, at the beck and call of your every whim? If not for me it would still just be you, the ex-angel and that disgusting-“

“-Stop it!” she bellowed, ending his venomous tirade out of sheer surprise she dared raise her voice, fists clenched to her sides “I know what you're doing Alastor, and it’s not going to work. Insult me all you want, I’m not going to leave you alone like this. You need help. Let me help you, please!”

Static hummed between them. His claws scraped the wood door behind him, cornered as she stripped him of the last defence he had, he could only regard her with narrowed eyes as he asked, “Why?”

Charlie did not answer him immediately, caught up in her own spinning thoughts as memories of seeing sinners withering in pain as they succumbed to a slow death dealt from angelic wounds as her father fought to educate her on the deadly nature of the holy exterminators, mixed with the fact she had not realised how broken Alastor’s ability to trust in others actually was, if even now (and honestly with how far gone the poison seemed she had no idea how he was still standing) he was leery of accepting help. Life in hell was not kind, somehow she got the feeling this was more than just a few bad experiences.

“Because…” she frowned as he regarded her the same way a frightened animal might before it lashed out, she searching desperately for the right words and fearing the opportunity to help him would slip through her fingers if she chose the wrong ones, “because you’re my friend, and that might be one-sided, but dammit I give a sh*t about – and if you don’t get help, Alastor, this will kill you. I…I’ve seen it before, a-and I don’t want to watch you die because you were too stubborn to let me help you!”

He blinked at her slowly once, then twice, as silence hung in the air between them after her outburst. Charlie rubbed a hand across her eyes, smudging the small amount of makeup she had put on for dinner but not caring at all as she met his gaze again, eyes still wet. She wasn’t crying, not really, not yet…

Alastor himself felt frozen because if he was honest with himself, there was no way she was that good of an actor. She genuinely wanted to help him, which was so very like her, though he still struggled to fathom just as to why. Because she ‘cared about him’ was a hard truth for him to accept, he simply didn’t think anyone was capable of truly caring for him, especially someone as good as her! So, he fastened on what else she had said. That she’d ‘seen it before’. She must have seen wounds like this before, poison like this, and been unable to save the previous victim. This was Charlie using him to resolve the guilt she most likely felt from that, that’s all.

His shadow cast against the wall behind Charlie across the room folded its arms, shaking its head with something like disappointment, but he ignored it.

Against his better instinct, he gave a jerky nod, her reaction instantaneous – the blonde woman released a breath she’d apparently been holding, her shoulders relaxing and her hands unclenching as she gave him a tight smile.

“Thank you,” she told him, sounding relieved “Can you tell me how you got hurt? I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

A small scratch would be easy enough, a quick fix well within her skillset, something larger would require more attention and longer time – if not the intervention of her father, which she seriously doubted Alastor would be pleased with…

He hesitated still, until finally the words fell bitterly from his lips as he admitted, “…during the battle, Adam got a lucky hit.”

“Ada-you’ve been walking around like this for four months?” Charlie gaped “four months?!”

“Yes, I am aware how much time has passed, my dear.”

“Alastor, why didn’t you… this could have killed you, you know that, right?”

“Really? I never would have guessed - because it feels just so pleasant!” he rolled his eyes.

With a shake of her head, Charlie pressed her lips together to resist a retort of her own, knowing it would go nowhere. Instead, she took a steadying breath and said, “Get on the bed, and… I need to see it, so remove whatever you’re comfortable removing to let me see.”

He almost snapped that he was not comfortable removing anything for anyone for any reason, but he had agreed to allow her to help him, and the promise of her ending his torment was enough for him to swallow the words – though he was unable to prevent the way his ears set back against his head as he pushed off the door behind him to follow her instructions.

Charlie was surprised he followed her instruction without arguing, though she noticed the unhappy expression and the way his ears went back, making her way to the door the second he’d moved away from it – considering the situation she was hardly surprised when he gripped her wrist to prevent her opening it, though he managed little more than a raised eyebrow before she explained, “I need to get some supplies, I won’t be long and I won't breathe a word why. Razzle will guard you while I’m gone – and if it makes you feel better, I can spell the door not to open for anyone but you and I?”

He held her wrist a moment longer, claws flexing against the delicate skin there as he mulled her words over, and Charlie held completely still. This wasn’t exactly her first rodeo with a wary demon, though perhaps he was certainly the deadliest she’d dealt with in this fashion.

When he nodded his consent again, dropping her wrist from his claws, she couldn’t help giving him a massive smile. Of course, she wasn’t entirely certain he saw, having turned away on his heel almost as soon as he dropped her wrist. Either way, she was pleased he’d chosen to trust her and wasted little time slipping out of the door, lingering just long enough in the hallway to spell the door as promised. Her magic glowed red against the dark wood for a moment, her seal visible for just a moment, then faded and became just like any of the other doors along the hallway. The ward would only become visible again if someone entered, and activate if it was anyone but her or Alastor attempted to enter.

Now alone, Charlie took a deep breath to settle herself, then made her way through the lodge and downstairs to the front desk at a pace just shy of an actual run. Her stomach sank a little upon seeing the same disinterested goat demon who had checked them it was still at the desk, but she still approached with the friendliest smile she could muster at the moment and requested a first aid kit and an apple. If the receptionist was at all bemused by these items she didn’t show it, simply looked up from where she had been filing her hoof, heaved a great put-upon sigh, and hopped off her stool presumably to fetch the requested items.

Charlie couldn’t help drumming her nails against the counter as she waited, thoughts straying predictably back to Alastor. Her stomach was in knots knowing he’d had the heavenly poison in his system for four damn months already, every second longer was a second closer to death he came into her mind. How stubborn did the man have to be that he’d not gone to anyone for help? Surely he must know the wound wasn’t like any other, if the golden light was not clue enough for him, then the fact it wasn’t healing and he was clearly in agony should have been enough!

She knew something was wrong. Dammit, why hadn’t she pressed him for a better answer when she visited his rooms these last few weeks? When he’d become reclusive, hiding in his rooms and being short-tempered whenever he did deign to come out, neglecting his duties around the hotel that until that point he’d been surprisingly diligent about… he told her he was just busy with other things, and honestly, she knew deep down it was a lie. Husk reckoned he was sulking, having obviously lost his fight with Adam, and laughed about it with Angel. God, they knew he lost that fight, why hadn’t it occurred to her that he might have been hurt?

Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and Charlie turned, only to find a rather familiar shadow cast against the wall beside her own. Alastor’s shadow actually waved when it noticed her looking, and she felt her stomach drop.

“Is he okay?” she asked it immediately, not particularly caring if any of the demons slowly leaving the hall not far from where she stood heard and thought she was talking to thin air.

The shadow nodded, pointed ears bobbing with the movement, and Charlie let out a relieved sigh right before another thought occurred to her. Turning away, she gave the shadow a dejected look from the corner of her eye and muttered, “I get it. He doesn’t trust me, so he sent you to keep an eye on me, right?”

She was surprised when the shadow shook its head almost frantically, moving along the wall to be more within her sight to be sure she saw, right before it paused and made a helpless gesture with its hands. She was bewildered at first, eyebrows climbing in surprise, but as she watched it she thought she began to understand what it was trying to mime.

It's complicated.

Charlie didn’t get a chance to ask the oddly communicative shadow anything more, a white (with suspicious faded red stains) bag suddenly slapped onto the counter in front of her as the goat demon receptionist returned to her post and practically tossed her a rather bruised and battered looking red apple. Not that it mattered, she thanked her anyway grabbed the first aid bag and took off to the stairs once more – only when she had gone up the first flight did another thought occur to make her pause.

“Al’s in pain, right?” she asked the shadow that had followed her, which nodded without preamble. Honestly, she was beginning to like the shadow, considering it would have been like pulling teeth to get the real Alastor to admit he was in pain.

Turning on her heel and heading up the opposite corridor, Charlie found the door she was seeking and prayed to her grandfather that dinner had finished not long after she had left as she raised a fist and gave a polite knock.

She waited, hearing a shuffle on the other side while Alastor’s shadow watched her with a tilted head from the wall beside the door, and after a few more moments the door was finally opened by the Sin of Sloth – revealing a dark room lit by the static neon light of a television, while the Sin of Gluttony remained sat on the floor at the foot of the large bed with an almost comically sized bowl of popcorn on her lap.

“Charlie?” Belphagor said her name slowly, eyes blinking just as slowly.

“Hi, Aunt Bel, I was just wondering if you wouldn’t happen to have any painkillers I could borrow?”

Bel didn’t react at first, though Bee behind her raised the remote to pause whatever they had been watching and cast a concerned gaze towards the door, but after a moment she shuffled away from the door and deeper into the room, calling over her shoulder “’course I got painkillers. I got pills coming out of my ears, girlie – that’s my business.”

“You okay Char-char?” Bee called from where she sat.

“I’m okay, Auntie Bee – just have a bit of a headache… probably just from travelling, you know how it is!” Charlie gave a shaky smile and gave a thumbs up, glancing ever so slightly towards the shadow neither of them could see to see if it gave any indication it was bothered by her impromptu visit. She felt awful for lying to her aunts, but she had promised Alastor she wouldn’t tell anyone anything after all. The shadow however remained still, frustratingly expressionless as shadows tended to be, giving her no clue as to its thoughts.

“Here ya go darlin’” Bel returned, handing her a small rattling bottle “They’re the strongest stuff I got though, be warned.”

“I have a feeling this is a case of ‘the stronger the better’, thank you, Aunt Bel!”

“No problem, girlie” Bel gave a slow wave as the princess took off at an almost run back up the corridor. As she shut the door she threw Bee a look over her shoulder and quipped, “I told you she’d come knockin’, that Sinner she brought with her reeked of sickness.”

“Poor guy,” Bee fretted “Do you think we should go after Charlie and help?”

“If she wanted our help she’d have asked” Bel shrugged, settling on the plush bed Bee was leaning against once more. “Besides… if he’s sick with what I think, ain’t nothing we can to help him now. But she can.”

Bee pouted, folding both sets of her arms, though she knew Belphagor was correct – their little niece was grown up now, not the sticky-fingered child she’d wreaked havoc with some decades ago. And Charlie knew that if she asked for help they’d be there in an instant to assist.

Bel could practically hear her sister's thoughts, petting her Day-Glo hair and rolling her eyes when she saw the pout, the sloth demon reached down to pick up the remote to resume their movie.

XXXXXX

Alastor sat on the side of the bed, stripped down of his coat and cumme*rbund, wondering just why the hell he had agreed to let her help him let alone that he had done as she instructed before she left the room. The only reason his white shirt stayed on - though he had managed to undo some of the buttons- was because his chest and shoulders had protested with rather a large amount of pain during the process of removing his jacket that he simply wasn’t up to repeating just yet.

A part of him was glad he’d been in too much pain to remove the shirt as well, already feeling uncomfortably exposed without his jacket. Vulnerable, which was not something he enjoyed feeling – let alone when he was already weakened – though he reminded himself that this was Charlie and despite the immense power he suspected boiled just beneath the surface of the stary-eyed little princess, she’d never hurt a fly.

Even if she had lied about caring for him the chances of her wishing him actual harm were slim, considering he had seen the way she treated those who caused her actual bodily harm with nothing less than her usual cheery disposition. The first day he had offered to accompany her on a grocery trip for the hotel (he’d been appalled by the barren state of the kitchen when he first arrived) they hadn’t gotten far before a group of sinners had recognised her from her disastrous interview. Led by a particularly large reptilian sinner, they’d mocked and thrown items - a large rock had hit the princess just above the temple. She stumbled, bleeding from the cut, and while he was almost sure a fleeting look of anger had passed her features it was soon replaced by a cheery smile as she shouted something about therapy groups if they would be willing to come by the hotel to the jeering group.

The group had not come by of course. They hadn’t lived long enough to do so after what he witnessed. Still building the newfound trust she had in him he’d behaved and done nothing while she was there, but he’d tracked the group down later and made sure they paid the price for their actions. The look on the ringleader's face when he’d used the same rock he’d thrown at the princess to smash his skull had been particularly delicious.

If Charlie couldn’t even bring herself to raise a hand against those who cause her harm he reasoned with himself that the chances of her harming him were fairly slim. This was almost enough to placate himself, the rest being the simple fact that he had no desire whatsoever to die a permanent death – and he got the impression that succumbing to heavenly poison would indeed be a more permanent death. The poison needed to be removed from his system, and if anyone in hell was strong enough to do such a thing it was going to be Charlie or her father – and considering Lucifer would be likely to lord this over him for the rest of his afterlife (if he agreed to help him at all of course) he would rather it be Charlie. At least she could be threatened into keeping silent on this whole situation – not that it had stopped him from sending his shadow to be certain she kept her tongue.

The door of the room opened with a click, Alastor spun at the sound – both his spine and ears straight and alert – then hissed as pain lanced through his body at the movement. Charlie didn’t seem to notice though juggling a large white bag, a jar, and what appeared to be an apple in her arms as she shut the door sharply behind her, the wood glowing a faint red with what he assumed was the ward she put in place to ensure no one else got in. An interesting display of her magic he’d be more interested in seeing again when he was in less pain.

Finally turning to face the room her gaze went first to the high-back chair he’d claimed upon their arrival, finding it the only occupant to be Razzle curled up and fast asleep, she swept the room looking mildly surprised to find him sitting on the bed as she’d asked. While she looked at him with widening eyes, a dark shape moved along the floor until it came to his feet, his shadow rejoining its master. Alastor gave little reaction as we opened the connection he had to the shadow, observing its memory of following her in his mind. True to her word, the princess had not told anyone of his condition and, shockingly had even lied to her aunts in order to procure medication. Lying was not her forte, however, and she’d clearly been uncomfortable doing it, so he doubted the sins had believed her…

Charlie knew she was staring, but couldn’t quite seem to bring herself to look away from him. Alastor sat on the bed wearing nothing but his white shirt and black slacks, his normally razor-straight hair had clearly had a hand or two run through it while she’d been gone. His shirt was untucked from his trousers, and he’d managed to unbutton the cuffs and top two around his throat giving her a glimpse at the previously unseen skin there. It was the most dishevelled she had ever seen the sinner look, and he oddly suited it.

Eyebrow raised as the silence stretched, Alastor asked “Did you retrieve everything you need?”

Blinking, Charlie finally tore her gaze off him and prayed her naturally red cheeks would hide the blush she knew was burning, what the hell was she doing gawking at him like a school girl with a crush anyway? Ridiculous!

“I-I, er, yes – I got everything!” she avoided his gaze as she came around the bed to stand beside him, placing the bag and – yes, he could now confirm, that was an apple in her hand. He’d make a quip about her wanting a snack if he did not know from the shadows memories that she had requested it specifically. Before he could ask why, she turned and finally met his eye again as she offered him the jar in her other hand. “I even stopped by Belphagor’s room and got you some painkillers – don’t worry, I told her they were for me.”

He already knew this of course from the shadow, but she didn’t know that, taking the bottle in his hand. It was unlabelled, filled only halfway with small white tablets that looked no different than the painkillers they had on hand in the hotel – ones he’d taken by the handful in a vain attempt at relief and found none.

“While I appreciate the gesture, doll, I’m afraid nothing has worked thus far to help – besides alcohol, though I must confess it helps littlewith the pain before I pass out.”

Charlie had been opening the white bag she’d brought, fingers rifling through its contents, she smirked at his words. “I don’t think even hell’s doctors recommend getting black-out drunk, you know. Besides, these are Belphegor’s pills – she has a particular talent when it comes to chemistry, specifically when it comes to drugs. She’s created medicines that work on even me and my father. Just give them a try, I know how much pain you are in, if they don’t work I’ll go back downstairs and grab a bottle of whisky from the bar and you can say ‘I told you so’ as much as you want. Please.”

Against his better judgement, and because she said ‘please’ he shook out a dozen of the small pills and swallowed them without water – they tasted foul, but he didn’t let that show on his face. Instead, he swallowed thicky again to try to clear the taste from his palate, and asked “How would you know how much pain I’m in, hmm?”

Unpacking a few things from the bag and setting them on the table, Charlie paused, gaze flicking to him for just a moment. He didn’t think she was going to answer his question, and he was prepared to say something else when she admitted quietly “My parents… when I was young, they took me out after an extermination to show me what the angels did to our people. I… I saw sinners who had been poisoned, like you…”

He found this to be both surprising and yet he could understand why her parents did what she said. If adult Charlie had been so enamoured with heaven (and he only used past tense because following her recent interactions with them she certainly seemed to have lost her rose-tinted glasses when it came to the pearly gates), he could only imagine how she had been as a child. He assumed it was something like telling a child the stove was hot, then letting them touch it when it wasn’t too hot so they’d understand why you’d warned them. From the look on her face, however, whatever she had seen had certainly stuck with her.

“The poison… it works faster on new, or weaker, souls” Charlie told him when he said nothing in reply, still rifling through the bag for what she would need “I don’t know which one he was, but… my parents wanted me to be sure I knew the dangers, in case I was ever caught out on extermination day. They made sure I knew how to heal, just in case.”

“Did they now?” he watched her with narrowed eyes. Truthfully he thought what her parents did was probably smart, though he wasn’t about to admit that out loud. Instead, he asked, “And just how skilled are you in what they taught you?”

Her attention dragged from the bag of medical supplies, Charlie gave him a flat look and retorted “I know what I’m doing if that’s what you’re asking. Why would you even agree to let me help you if you thought I didn’t?”

“You called this a poison,” Alastor said with a shrug, not at all worried he’d upset her, and winced when the pain lanced through him at the gesture – though it did seem considerably less than earlier – and continued “I would have come to the same conclusion soon enough, I had suspected infection if you must know, but the simple truth of the matter is that I have no desire to die again just yet. I figure at this point I have little left to lose in relying upon your knowledge, though I would appreciate some reassurance before letting you muck around my wound.”

He expected some protest, maybe for her to take offence or get irritated with him for being stubborn. What Alastor did not expect was for Charlie to roll her eyes as she turned to face him fully, and then reach her right hand down to lift the hem of her skirt without preamble.

His first reaction was to shut his eyes tight, scolding her in a strangled voice, “Charlotte! I hardly think this is the time for-!”

“-just open your eyes, Alastor, jeez” she cut across him, sounding far too amused for his liking.

He hesitated, but cracked open one of his eyes just to glimpse, more than a little curious if he was forced to admit. What he saw had him blink, both eyes wide open, and stare for a moment.

Charlie had lifted her skirt almost to her hip, enough fabric still covering her to keep her decent, but exposed the pale flesh of her thigh to him. He didn’t notice it at first glance, almost as pale as the rest of her, but the contrast was there – just a shade or two paler and slightly sunken – was a scar. It must have been a nasty wound when she received it, almost an inch wide and long enough to disappear beneath the fabric of her lifted skirt towards her hip. He gazed at it for a second, a swirl of confusing emotions at the sight of her marked skin, before he lifted his eyes back to hers and simply lifted an eyebrow hoping she could see in his expression what he could not put into words.

He'd looked stunned when she showed him the scar she usually kept hidden. It wasn’t something she was ashamed of, per se, considering this was hell scars were pretty normal. Still, it wasn’t something she enjoyed remembering, but it seemed the best way she could think of at the moment to demonstrate her ‘skill’ as he put it. Charlie waited patiently as he studied the old wound, his expression almost blank, until he looked at her – his trademark smile lifting into something sinister that promised pain and his eyes blazing the way they did when he was angry, yet his eyebrow lifted in clear question, she assumed he was annoyed with her actions but giving her the opportunity to explain.

“When I was in Hell School there was an incident with another demoness in my class” she told him with a grim expression, “let's just say, if my parents hadn’t taught me how to take care of myself we’d have discovered if I can die from blood-loss.”

Alastor let his eyes fall back to the scar, unconsciously leaning closer to get a better look, to see the edges appeared almost jagged. Not a knife wound, he supposed, this was more like something had clawed at her. The idea someone had dared lay a hand on her, dared to leave a lasting wound, set off something deep and burning in his core the way it had when those thugs had thrown rocks – pity he was in no condition to track down and slaughter her old schoolmates.

“How far up?” he questioned, pleased his voice sounded steady even if there was a bit of heat to his tone.

“It ends somewhere here-“ Charlie tapped just above her hip bone, assuming he had been asking the length of the scar as he leaned close enough she could feel his hot breath against the skin of her thigh, and trying to ignore the sensation, she added “I remember seeing my own hip bone. Our teacher was so horrified she threw up! Overall, not a pleasant experience.”

“I would think not” he murmured, finally leaning away and beginning to feel a tad light-headed. He’d almost lifted a hand to see if she would let him touch, though that would be improper of him. Fighting to focus, he dragged his gaze back to her own and cleared his throat a little, asking “And you healed this yourself?”

“Some of it, enough to make sure I didn’t die before they could get me to a hospital” Charlie frowned. Al’s eyes were beginning to look a little funny, and he was swaying where he sat. It took a moment to realise what had changed, but when she did she almost giggled, his pupils – normally tiny pinpricks – had blown up in size. It seemed the drugs he’d been so sceptical of were beginning to kick in…

She was unsurprised when his words slurred a little as he scoffed, “Well, darling, I do hope this other demoness came out worse!”

“Well, not really” Charlie wrinkled her nose as she dropped her skirt again to cover the old scar, she admitted “… but I might have set her hair on fire. Not my fault, it's hard to control my fire when I get pissed off – and all the hairspray she wears didn’t help…”

Alastor baked a laugh, then flinched slightly at the pain it caused. She rolled her eyes again that he would find that amusing, though she’d be lying to say she wasn’t fighting a bit of a smile at the memory of Helsa running down the corridor with that beehive up-do on her head aflame – she really hadn’t done it on purpose, and in her defence, Charlie hadn’t lost control until after her leg had been ripped to ribbons.

“So do my skills have your approval before I begin ‘mucking around’ with your wound?” she snarked, raising an eyebrow “Not that you have much choice right now, but I’d prefer knowing you were comfortable before we begin – and, before we start, I promise everything that happens here is completely private. I’ll never tell a soul.”

“You ‘promise’” he snorted, shaking his head and letting it flop to the side, “a childish notion you expect me to trust when it's so easily broken on a mere whim…”

“I’ll have you know I take my promises very seriously, mister” Charlie placed her hands on her hips giving him a stern look. After a moment she seemed to get an idea, lifting one of her hands to hold it out for him with a pinky finger extended.

“What are you doing?” he slurred, giving her hand a questioning look.

“You make deals, but you’ve never heard of a pink promise?” Charlie mocked teasingly, wiggling her extended finger, “You wrap your little finger around mine and we promise.”

“How childish” he rolled his eyes again, but Charlie didn’t lower her hand still looking at him with an expectant expression. He had no intention of indulging her meaningless gesture, meant to fool him into trusting her no doubt, that was until she raised her eyebrow – a challenge clear in her gesture. The radio demon did not cow from a challenge, even one as infantile as this.

His narrow finger wrapped around her own and she curled hers against it.

“I promise never to speak to anyone about whatever happens in this room tonight, and if I do, well – Alastor can punish me as he deems fit”she declared in a triumphant tone, then added “Is that good enough for you?”

Alastor said nothing, however, merely blinking at her rather owlishly. Charlie thought for a second it was from the painkillers in his system, he had taken a lot of them after all, until his bewildered gaze lowered to their still joined fingers, she understood. At her declaration she had felt the buzz of magic in her finger, Al’ must have felt it too, must tamer than the wave that accompanies a deal – but similar.

He'd truly thought her gesture to be a meaningless one, meant to soothe his nerves and persuade his compliance, that when he felt that familiar magic in his finger the truth of what she had done shook him to the core. There was no surprise in her expression so it stood to reason she had expected, or perhaps hadn’t even noticed, that whatever magic lingered in the very fabric of hell itself had just bound them to this promise of hers. The promise itself, that he can ‘punish her as he deems fit’, well… he dragged his gaze back up to her face, seeing her open honest expression – there was no hint of falseness to her at all, not one iota of deceit. He knew who he was, what he did, what he could do to her and she’d effectively given him carte blanche to do these things to her if she dared utter a word of whatever happened in this room tonight…

“For someone who makes a lot of deals, you seem surprised by a little promise” Charlie teased him, letting her hand drop from his grip.

He barely registered her words, as the simple fact – the only conclusion he could draw as to why she would put herself in a position such as she had – was… that she really does care about him.

“I think I have everything we need here” she continued speaking when he did not respond to her comment, glancing through the first aid supplies she’d stacked on the bedside table, she looked down at herself giving the dress she wore a huff as she turned away and strode around the bed to where her suitcase sat, she added “but I’m going to get changed before we start. I know this will be uncomfortable for you, but maybe you could take your shirt off – or at least enough so I can get to that wound of yours? I’ll be back in a moment!”

He heard her and had even tracked her movements with his gaze as she recovered her red cotton pyjamas from her bag and disappeared into the bathroom with a small wave, but didn’t react. Couldn’t, in fact, not at all trusting his words. His head felt fuzzy, he dimly thought that maybe he should have heeded her warning about those pills, but that was pushed to the side at the realisation that he had been wrong. Charlie truly did care about him. It wasn’t just an act.

How? Or, better yet, why? It had to be more than just that bleeding heart of hers, it just had to be. Had he not given her plenty of proof that he represented everything she hated? He revelled in murder, mischief and misrule. He quite happily ripped apart his enemies, or those he simply considered a nuisance, and he felt little remorse for every wicked whim of his dark heart. There must be a reason for her to care if he lived or died.

The hotel? He had proven himself useful in that regard on many occasions, and given its importance to her, he could have convinced himself she cared only for his usefulness there. However since her father had taken up a semi-permanent residence, splitting his time between the hotel and his castle now his interest in running his realm had been renewed, he had been trying to prove (poorly, he might add) that anything Alastor could do, he could do too. Charlie did not truly need him for her hotel anymore, as long as Lucifer remained interested (though, in his opinion, the broken man was still a flight risk).

Perhaps it was his ties with the other powerful overlords in the Pride ring? He had introduced her to Rosie, procuring her the strength in numbers they needed in their battle with heaven, but Rosie had taken rather a fast shine to the princess. Given the other overlord had given Charlie a standing invitation to return to Cannibal Town whenever she desired, he got the feeling he was not required to further their relationship. Besides Rosie, he had little sway with the other overlords for her to exploit, though there was a fragile respect between himself, Carmine and Zestial. Of course, there was also the possibility her care for him was an extension of the care she had for Husker and Nifty, whom he had brought to the hotel with him. Somehow this explanation seemed unlikely…

What if she had feelings for him?

The thought seemed to come from out the left field, his fuzzy mind going blank completely as his entire being froze – right before he scoffed. A truly ridiculous thought! True, he’d garnered himself his fair share of admirers (more so when he was alive than dead) but the idea of the princess of hell falling for the likes of him, with her beguiling smile and hair like sunshine with a heart to match – well, it was downright absurd. As he’d already stated he was everything she hated, and more.

Shaking his heavy head, he snickered again at the futile thought, numb fingers going to the buttons of his shirt to do as she’d asked before she disappeared into the bathroom. The rationale behind her caring for him escaped his understanding, something he’d blame on the drugs she had given him, but he had enough sense in him to squash down the odd swirling of emotions this realization gave him until he was alone. Besides, didn’t this work for his goal in the end? If she cared for him, trusted him, it made what he had to do later all the easier… he should be pleased!

So why did he feel so unsettled instead?

XXXXXX

Charlie felt like she could breathe better once she had the bathroom door between her and Alastor, though she scolded herself for it. He was hurt, and she couldn’t waste time hiding in the bathroom!

C’mon, Charlie, get it together…

She shook herself and wasted little more time unzipping her dress and allowing it to fall into a pool at her feet. She still hadn’t really gotten a good look at whatever wound he had and wasn’t sure if this next step would be messy or not, but considering the dress was one of her favourites she’d much rather be wearing her plain old pyjamas just in case.

Four months. Frankly, despite her anger that he’d gone so long without asking for help, she couldn’t help but be just a little tiny bit impressed he’d lasted this long. As stupid as it was on his part, it was yet further proof of the power the radio demon wielded – oh sure, they had seen glimpses of it in the past, he was adept with spacial warping (the damn swamp in his room was evidence of that) and commanded a powerful dark magic few sinners could ever hope to possess never mind master. The kind that nipped at Charlie’s skin whenever she sensed it, as if testing or teasing, attempting to provoke her own magic to come out and play. She never reacted, of course, never let her control slip, chances are he had no idea it was happening anyway, one powerful magic simply responding to another nearby. The fact this powerful magic sat coiled within his body was probably the only thing that had saved him from the heavenly energy coursing through his body right now – feeding on it rather than his life force.

It also explained why there had been such a lack of his usual shenanigans lately, aside from the pain he must be in, that poison would be eating up his magic leaving him depleted. Probably another reason for his temper lately, and the caution he had about being vulnerable around her right now…

… which was something she tried not to be a little upset by. Did he truly think she’d harm him, or run her mouth to someone who would? Of course, she wouldn’t! Even after he agreed to let her help him he’d looked so wary – which was why she’d proposed the pinky promise – though he’d seemed utterly stunned by it. If his suspicion didn’t speak volumes of what kind of past experiences he must have had, she’d have found his surprised face kind of cute.

And that was a whole other problem – when she’d walked into the room earlier and seen him sitting there in his untucked shirt, buttons loose on his cuffs and around his neck, without his usual red coat and hair a mess… she’d paused. It was the most undone she’d ever seen the man, and it suited him in a way that made her wonder just how she could get him to look like that again under less dire circ*mstances…

… which was just, no! Bad Charlie!

This was Alastor. He was her friend and her business partner for crying out loud! Okay so maybe she’d had the stray thought of him in a less-than-professional way once or twice before, but that was natural, right? He was a good-looking man, and charming, but it still felt wrong of her to think of him like that – especially since she was fairly certain he had no interest in anything like that – and given right now he was hurt and relying on her, that made it doubly wrong in her eyes.

Focus on helping him now, strange-and-inappropriate thoughts are a problem for another day!

Changed into her red cotton pyjamas and her hair freed from the updo she’d managed to wrangle it into in favour of a simpler ponytail, Charlie picked her dress up from the floor and folded it over her arm as she took a deep breath and exited the bathroom, only to pause at the sight that greeted her.

At some point while she was gone Alastor had fallen back onto the bed, his head propped against a pillow with one of his long legs still dangling awkwardly from the edge and arms at his sides gripping the sheets beneath him tightly. He had turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening with a dazed expression, giving her a full view of his blown pupils – painkillers in full swing it seemed – he squinted at her, and slurred “C-Charlie, I… I feel strange!”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the princess couldn’t help it when she burst out laughing. He sounded so panicked! When he’d downed the handful of pills despite her warning, this wasn’t quite the outcome she’d envisioned. She giggled again when his ears pinned back at the sound of her laughter, expression turning from concerned to annoyed in a heartbeat at her reaction.

“I-I’m sorry,” she apologised, though a few giggles continued to escape as she placed the dress in her arms on top of her suitcase to remind herself to repack it again later, “I did warn you those pills were strong, Al’. Are you still in pain?”

He seemed to think about it, gaze shifting so he was looking at the ceiling rather than her, ears relaxing to their original position. The deer demon realised for the first time in days that the bone-deep throb of pain was gone… well, not gone exactly, but it felt smothered. Like listening to music through a wall, he knew it was still there, but it was suppressed, replaced instead by a heavy fuzzy feeling over his entire body.

“…No.”

“That’s good!”

Alastor watched from the corner of his eye as the blonde came around his side of the bed once more, eyes sparkling with lingering amusem*nt and wearing a soft smile as she looked at him before her attention shifted lower. He looked away when it did, swallowing hard and praying to whatever god might give him pity that she didn’t notice. He’d done as she asked when she was in the bathroom and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, he had even removed the bandages he’d applied hastily before dinner, but when sitting up made him feel too dizzy and he’d restored to lying down he’d been sure that the two sides of his shirt still covered his chest. With his mind all fuzzy, he couldn’t remember why that had felt so important to him five minutes ago since he knew she’d have to look before she could begin healing him… but it had been.

“I’m going to look now, okay?” she asked him, maybe sensing his distress.

He nodded but still didn’t look at her. He held his breath when he felt her part his shirt, pulling the fabric back to expose his torso. He could feel the air against his bare skin, swallowing again as his eyes searched for something on the ceiling to focus on… until he heard her sharp gasp. His gaze snapped back to her reflexively by her reaction, entire body going stiff, not entirely sure what he expected.

He certainly hadn’t expected tears.

Gone was her smile from mere moments ago, instead her wide wet eyes were glued to his chest bigger than he’d ever seen them before, lips no longer smiling but parted in horror as she stared. He watched as she blinked, the moisture in her eye finally falling to roll down her cheek…

“C-come now, darling” The words tumbled from his lips before he realised he was going to say anything- though part of his mind screamed at him to shut up- it was drowned out by the part that wanted to offer comfort, hand raising to wipe the tear away “don’t waste tears on-“

“WHAT IN THE NINE CIRCLES WHERE YOU THINKING!” she bellowed, voice laced with a hellish growl as her demonic gaze snapped to his. Alastor felt his jaw snap shut mid-sentence at the unexpected reaction, pressing his head further into the pillow behind him as his eyes widened.

“YOU COULD HAVE DIED!” she continued, hands balled into fists as she visibly struggled to rein in her temper, shutting her eyes so she didn’t have to look at his stupid startled face, “I thought it would be something small, something you barely noticed, but this… did you want to die again? Why in the name of hell would you leave this for so long, why wouldn’t you get help? You didn’t have to come to us, you could have gone to a hospital if you didn’t trust us– we do have those you know! Oh, but I forgot, you’re the big-bad-radio-demon, right? You don’t need-!”

Charlie ceased mid-rant to look down, finding his hand clasped around her wrist in a gentle grip.

“Not that I don’t deserve it, sweetheart,” he winced as he spoke, attempting to sit up ever so slightly and feeling a jolt along the wound of his chest despite the painkillers, and falling back against the pillow, “but perhaps we can save the scolding for another time? This is – ah… rather uncomfortable for me.”

She studied his face as he looked away from her at this confession, and she got the idea he didn’t simply mean that he was still in pain. Alastor wasn’t one for touch, and he wore his suits like one might wear armour.

With a nod Charlie did her best to swallow her anger, turning her attention to rifle through the supplies she’d already set out on the bedside table. His wound was larger and nastier than she expected, it would need more than simply cleaning up but that was a natural place to start. She found the packet of antiseptic wipes and tore it open, wrinkling her nose at the strong alcohol scent, she gave him only a brief look as a warning before she pressed the wipe to his chest.

Alastor inhaled sharply and stiffened at the contact, even though he’d been expecting it, pain shooting through him as she dragged the wipe along his wound. She did it again and he released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. By the third swipe, he had a little more control, though his body remained stiff, he managed to keep his breathing steady and the pain settled into a dull throb. He knew she was being gentle, could feel it in the barely discernible pressure from her fingers as she cleaned him up, and he felt his ear twitch at the unfamiliar sensation – the undeniable way in which she was caring for him – as his eyes darted around the room to look at anything but the blonde hovering over him.

He felt like he should say something, no, he needed to say something – the silence was deafening him -

“I don’t want to be responsible for another friend's death” She broke the silence first, voice barely above a whisper, as she turned away from him to open another wipe and discard the first now stained in red and gold.

His head might be hazy, but he understood what she meant immediately, though he hadn’t been around to witness the death of that forgettable snake demon he’d heard the recount from both Nifty and Husk. He’d known it would hit the princess hard, she felt a strange responsibility for all of them at the hotel he noticed, but had been so busy with his own issues he’d never thought to check on her. Foolish of him, he realised, seeing the grief and sorrow on her face as she returned to cleaning his chest with fresh tears in his eyes.

“You weren’t responsible, Charlie” he fought not to slur his words, needing her to understand how serious he was being. A little part of his mind asked why he bothered, but it was ignored, the desire to comfort her stronger.

The princess said nothing, her only reaction to his words being a slight hesitation with the wipe as she dragged it towards the end of his wound, over his stomach (which unexpectedly tickled, but he clamped his lips down on that right away!) but she didn’t answer.

He didn’t like that. He forced himself to sit up on his elbows this time, wincing again at the pain, just enough that he could reach out to place his fingers beneath her chin and force her gaze to his.

“You weren’t responsible, Charlie” he repeated more forcefully.

“But I-“

“-Did you order Pentious into that airship? Did you force him into his witless attempt to take on the first man?”

She scowled at him, “It wasn’t witless, it-!”

“-was stupid. If even I could not withstand against him, how could that fool ever hope to?” Alastor raised an eyebrow.

“He did it for us!” she cried in outrage “To try and save us, to give us a chance-“

“-so he decided, upon his own discretion, to take the action he did?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“-then how are you responsible?”

“Because if I just did better, if I could have just got heaven to work with us, then all of this could have been avoided!” she cried, attempting to remove her chin from his fingers only for him to grip her chin gently to keep her in place.

“It was never going to happen, sweetheart, they enjoy it too much” he spoke quietly, knowing she’d hate his words “Don’t you think I know bloodlust when I see it? They enjoy killing us as much as I enjoy killing, well, anybody!”

“So you're saying it’s all pointless then?” her gaze narrowed as she huffed.

“Now I never said that, darling” he smirked, removing his grip on her chin to bop her on the nose with a finger before allowing himself to fall back against the pillow once more with a sigh. “What I am saying is that by blaming yourself for the actions of others – including myself - you will only bring yourself misery. I am not so proud to admit I underestimated my opponent, and it cost me dearly, that is my own fault. As is the failure to seek out assistance. Now, please stop crying over my open wound, sweetheart, it would be such a shame to spoil your work getting me all cleaned up.”

Despite it all, she couldn’t help a chuckle at the last part, which Alastor was pleased about. He really couldn’t get enough of her smile, and even if she didn’t take to heart what he had said, it was worth saying just to see that again.

“I hate to say it, but I think I’m going to have to stitch this up” she sniffed, forcing back those unshed tears, discarding the second wipe now she was satisfied he was clean. “I’ll try to be quick, but I want to do it properly to keep scarring as minimal as possible.”

“What’s another scar to my collection at this point?” Alastor scoffed, throwing an arm over his face to shield it from her view, not entirely convinced he’d be able to swallow down his reactions once she started.

She had noticed the marks littering his skin as she worked on him but decided not to say anything at all in reply though she desperately wanted to ask about them. Had they all been from one incident, or did each one have its own story? It crossed her mind that talking about them might help take his mind off what she was doing, but then again it might not, and that was assuming he’d talk about it all – though, the painkillers did seem to be making him rather loose-lipped…

She found a needle and thread in the first aid bag from reception (of course it was well stocked, this was hell after all) and managed to get the needle threaded on the second try. With a glance towards his still-covered face, she gave him a warning before she started, feeling him tense beneath her hand seconds before she pierced his pale skin with the needle.

He kept his arm over his face, not a sound or even a twitch coming from him as she worked. It honestly made her nervous, urging her to move quicker to get it over with, but she meant what she said about keeping the scarring minimal. Even if he already had a few dozen, that didn’t permit her to give him a new one.

“…scar…” she was almost done when she became aware of him mumbling.

“What was that?”

He didn’t respond immediately, making her think he wasn’t going to respond at all – given he had been muttering so quietly she probably hadn’t meant to hear what he said at all anyway – and had resigned herself to more silence when he repeated louder;

“…You shouldn’t have a scar…”

She paused. That was not what she’d been expecting.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she continued her stitching.

“You shouldn’t have scars,” he said again, lifting his arm from his face to let it flop down beside him once more but kept his gave fixed on the ceiling, eyelid twitching when the needle pierced his skin again. “Such pretty skin… shouldn’t be marked by pain…”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. Was that Alastor’s creepy way of complimenting her or something?

“I think those meds are messing with your head, Al’.”

“Most certainly,” he agreed with a sharp grin “but doesn’t mean I am wrong.”

“Hush.”

She finished stitching his wound, impressed he managed to remain still and reactionless the entire time – though it had startled her a little when she’d glanced up to find him watching her under a hooded gaze, seemingly amused by something. Or perhaps he just liked the pain? If anyone was going to turn out to have a masoch*st side, it would probably be him…

With the wound itself cleaned and stitched, Charlie turned her attention to the poison. Those gold lines still etched his skin like a lightning strike, crawling in every direction from the laceration at the centre of his chest. Then had gone no further up his neck since she first noticed them at dinner, thank grandfather, but the poison was still in his system – and it would stay there, slowly killing him, unless she could heal it.

Okay, Charlie, you remember how to do this…

Throwing the used med supplies into the trashcan nearby, she ignored the bag on the bedside table to pick up the bruised apple. Alastor had forgotten about that, peering curiously at the princess as she pulled the battered fruit apart with her bare hands, digging through one half with her claws until she pulled out a single tiny brown seed. She threw the rest of the apple in the trash can as well, setting the singular seed in the palm of one of her hands, covering it with the other, and closing her eyes.

The princess pulled at every part of her own magic she could, pouring it into the seed as her hands heated up. For a second she felt nothing, resistance as the magic pooled at her fingertips and threatened to release in a fiery display with no other outlet, frowning as she focused on the feather-light weight of the seed in her hand. She forced the magic towards it, refusing to give in to the flames that begged to erupt, breathing a sigh of relief when the resistance finally gave way and she felt it growing beneath her closed palm.

After a few minutes, she pulled the magic back, willing it to stop and it obeyed with only a slight challenge this time, and opened her eyes to observe the perfect shiny silver apple now sat in her hands. The first few dozen times she’d tried this, she’d merely set the seed (and anything else nearby) ablaze – her powerful magic so keen to burn it was hard to keep it under wraps sometimes - it had taken her years to actually get it right, and it had been even longer since she practised. She almost wanted to dance on the spot with delight that it had worked, but she was keenly aware that Alastor was watching her, so she squashed the desire down – for now at least.

It wasn’t a cure in the typical sense. The angelic energy was feeding off Alastor’s demonic one, sapping the magic and eventually the life from his body. Her father taught her that it could be… redirected. The apple would absorb that golden poison from his body, while the energy fed on the magic in the apple rather than his body, but it would take time. Charlie’s silver apples were powerful, sure, but nowhere near as powerful as the golden apples her father could produce – though, she got the feeling Al’ wouldn’t touch one with a fifty-foot pole whether his life was on the line or not.

With another wave of her hand and a small red light, the silver apple was diced into four slices, offering one to the dubious deer demon.

“Eat this.”

He took the offered slice, but frowned “What is it?”

“An Apple. It’ll help get rid of the angelic energy in your body.”

He gave her, and then the slice in his hand, one last hesitant look before lifting it to his lips. He placed the slice in his mouth and chewed, his expression immediately screwing up at the taste.

“This tastes like pure sugar!”

She rolled her eyes, having tasted one back when she was learning to make the magic apples she knew he was right about them tasting sweet – but ‘pure sugar’ was just dramatic.

“Just eat, it’ll help you!”

“I’d rather not,” he wrinkled his nose, glaring at the rest of the apple in her offered hand.

“Al’, you need to eat the whole thing” she told him sternly, the kind of tone one might use on a misbehaving child. She expected him to bristle at her tone but was surprised when he merely turned away from her petulantly, pressing his face into the pillow.

“No, thank you” came his muffled voice.

“Alastor” there was a warning in her tone, but the demon refused to lift his face from the pillow. “Al, I’m not playing – you need to eat this if you want to get better!”

He still didn’t budge.

She almost thought he had passed out, honestly, if she hadn’t seen the glimpse of a red eye as he peeked at her from the pillow. Rolling her eyes, the princess had no patience left to coax the stubborn mule of a man into complying – frustration fuelling her actions as she suddenly climbed onto the bed, over the top of him (but being sure not to touch his damaged chest or stomach) it still had the desired effect. Beneath her, Alastor lifted his face from the pillow to regard her with wide-eyed surprise, and when his mouth opened (probably to ask what the hell she was doing) she shoved another slice into his mouth and slapping her hand over his lips to make sure he didn’t spit it out.

He glared from beneath her, making a half-hearted attempt at wriggling free, but in his weakened state it was little use. When she felt him swallow she lifted her hands from his lips and sat back on his lap with a self-satisfied smirk. Two slices down, two more to go…

“Dirty trick,” he grumbled from beneath her.

“Well, stop being a big baby about it then” she retorted, “I’m trying to save your life, not poison you.”

“I’m not convinced” he countered, very aware of the princess currently sitting on the tops of his thighs, and despite the thought of throwing her off him (not that he currently had the strength to do it) passing through his mind, he found himself strangely okay with her being there. She herself seemed oblivious to the intimate position.

Charlie pouted at this huffy response, well aware she still had two more slices of the silver apple for him to eat. The chances of the same trick working twice were slim, nor did she particularly like force-feeding him – what if he choked? That was the last thing they needed…

Ah, maybe...

“Well, if you're too much of a coward to eat a silly little apple-“ the princess said with a roll of her eyes, “-I want to help you, Al, I really do. But if you’re too scared, I suppose we could try again later. Half an apple is better than none, at least.”

She didn’t look at him directly, didn’t want him to see the sly smile tugging at her lips when she risked a glance from beneath her eyelashes and started to move herself off his lap. She had barely shifted at all when he grabbed her wrist, the one still holding the uneaten slices, and lifted his head off the pillow.

Glaring, he murmured in a dangerously low tone, “Whoever said I was afraid, sweetheart?”

“What else am I supposed to think when you won't eat an apple to quite literally save your life?” she challenged.

He kept glaring, a sneer tugging at his lips that had been pressed into a thin smile, Charlie tried not to look too satisfied when he snatched the last two slices and shoved them both into his mouth – keeping her gaze as he chewed, ever as his nose wrinkled in distaste at their sweetness.

He ate it, that was what mattered, and let's be honest if he wasn’t drugged to his antlers such a trick would probably never have worked anyway.

“Was that so hard?” the blonde couldn’t resist asking, fighting – and failing – to keep the taunt out of her tone.

He snorted, releasing her wrist and letting his head fall back, but when he spoke it was the last thing she expected him to say.

“You’re a fool, my dear.”

“Excuse me?”

She gaped down at him, still having not moved from his lap, but he kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling above them and not giving her an answer immediately. Eventually, he said, “If you were smart, you’d have forced me into using our deal in order to barter your help… now I will probably survive and still hold it over your head.”

Charlie frowned, climbing off him to sit on the bed beside him instead as she mulled over what he’d said. It had never even occurred to her to invoke their deal, to ask a price before she gave him her help, though now that he mentioned it she couldn’t deny that it probably would have been much better for her in the long run. She still had no doubts that he had plans for that favour he asked of her, ones she probably wouldn’t like. When she’d realised just what was wrong with him, however, the only thought that had run through her mind was the desperate need to help him. To save him.

“You’re probably right” she agreed softly, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them “but not everything needs to be a give and take Al’. I wanted to help you… I couldn’t lose you too.”

“Why care so much for someone who represents everything you hate?” he asked with a weary sigh, though she got the suspicion it had been rhetorical and not meant for her ears at all, “you give so much of yourself to us loathsome sinners, soon there may not be anything left of yourself to give. Everyone will have taken a piece of you, Charlie.”

She was staring down at him now, eyebrows raised, wondering If he wasn’t perhaps a little delirious. Maybe the magic apple had interacted with the painkillers somehow? The princess jumped a little when he grabbed her arm, an agitated look on his face.

“But I won’t allow it, princess – oh no! I have a piece of you, my own little piece, I won't let anyone take it…”

Yup, definitely delirious. Charlie thought, eyebrows raising even higher as his grip and expression went slack once more and returned to an almost peaceful look. She had no idea what he was talking about, though she doubted she was supposed to, she reached over and began to run one of her hands through his crimson hair in the same soothing manner her mother had once done when she was sick. She was secretly delighted to find it was as soft as she’d always imagined it to be, with a texture more like fur than hair honestly, but squashed it down.

“It’s okay Al’. You keep your piece of me nice as safe” she whispered, smiling a little as his eyes fell shut under the gentle ministrations of her hand. Hopefully, he’d fall asleep soon…

“… my mother was like that too.”

She paused, blinking in surprise. Oh, it was clear to anyone who had spent time with the Radio Demon that he loved his mother dearly, but he only ever seemed to mention her in passing comments and never in detail. Charlie had tried asking questions before, but he’d usually find some way to avoid answering them.

“Oh?” was all she replied, wondering if he might talk more – then immediately feeling guilty for it given his drug-addled state.

“Mmm” Alastor hummed beneath her hand, “she would always cook for the neighbours, or help them with chores, childcare, and the like. Most would take advantage of her kindness, never return the favour…”

“She sounds like a lovely woman.”

“She was” he opened his eyes to look up at her, pupils still huge, with a wicked glint in them as he said “and I always got revenge on those who wronged her of course! Not that she appreciated it. Hated it, in fact. Hated me…”

Charlie winced, not sure what to think of his ‘revenge’. For Alastor, revenge could have been anything from a minor inconvenience to totally eviscerating the offender, which seemed quite the overreaction to someone not returning a kindness… but the idea his mother ‘hated’ him, didn’t seem right either.

Apparently, he could read minds, because he muttered “I didn’t kill them… I didn’t kill anyone who didn’t deserve it. But I saw how it broke her heart when they took advantage of her, though she always said they must be worse off than us and need it more, it still didn’t sit right with me. D-does it break your heart too, I wonder?”

He asked it like an unsure child, which in itself broke her heart a little. Still, peering up at her with wide eyes the way he was, he seemed to genuinely be asking – not just talking aloud – so she thought for a moment before she answered.

“I live in Hell. If it broke my heart every time someone took advantage of me, I wouldn’t have much heart left.”

His heavy eyes fell shut as he processed her words, then he nodded as he turned to press his face into the pillow. “I suppose you are right, darling. Perhaps you are stronger than she was… I wonder… If when I am free, I will break your heart too?”

Charlie froze with her hand still in his hair, her mouth falling open as she processed what he had just said. When he is ‘free’? Did… did that mean that Alastor himself was bound in a deal too?

“W-what do you mean?” she swallowed, not sure she wanted to know but at the same time needing to know.

The only reply she got was a soft snore.

Of course he passed out now. The princess grimaced, pulling her hand from his hair to run it through her own as she eyed the sleeping demon beside her. Her head was full of questions. Why did he think his mother hated him? He seemed to speak of her so fondly that even if it was true it was a one-sided thing, so what had happened there? And was he in a deal? If he was… just who the heck had managed to get Alastor to make a deal and trap him?

She’d get no more answers tonight – and probably not ever, unless she found a reason to drug him again (though she was willing to bet he’d never do so voluntarily again). She could wake him up, it would be easy to claim it was an accident, but he needed rest far more than she needed answers.

The mystery that is the radio demon just keeps getting more peculiar…

With a sigh Charlie shuffled to the edge of the bed and came around his side to make sure everything was cleaned up, discarding the used items into the nearby trashcan and packing anything they had not used back into the bag. The princess then looked at him, sprawled out with his face in the pillow and shirt still open to display the now stitched-up wound. It did look a lot better now, at least in her opinion, no longer oozing all over. The gold lines still etched over his skin, but it would take time for them to fade – once they finally did they would know for certain the poison was out of his system completely. She considered rebuttoning his shirt but didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for him to sleep with the fabric rubbing on his chest. The thought of changing him into pyjamas even passed her mind, though he’d not brought any luggage with him for her to go through, and besides that probably would be going a little too far over his boundaries… still, she took off his shoes and placed them on the floor by the bed to make him more comfortable.

He was still snoring when she crawled back onto the bed beside him, resolving to spend the rest of her night watching over him, just in case.

XXXXXX

Meanwhile, outside the lodge on the edges of the Boiling Lake, two imps scurried across the marshland trying not to slip into the burning waters. In the dark, they were barely discernible from the plant life around them and quickly disappeared into an even darker part of the bog with a short glance over their shoulders to be sure they weren’t followed.

A few meters into the trees the air became thick with ozone, the two imps running fast towards a Tear. The rip in the fabric of Hell showed a starkly different surrounding to the Pride marsh they were currently in, and the Imps jumped through it landing in the green-tinted realm of Greed with barely a moment of hesitation.

No one was around to see the pair appear, the Tear hidden by a pile of trash in the dark alleyway the second it had been discovered, and even if anyone had noticed they’d have never said a word. They’d be stupid too.

It was a short run from the Tear’s location to Crimson's office, and the two Imps met no resistance as they made their way towards the boss's office. They were expected of course, which is why Crimson never bothered to look up from the papers he was reading when they finally stood before his desk, still breathing heavily.

“Well?”

“The girl’s there, with her father, as expected” the taller of the two imps huffed, “there’s also members of the Goeita, Vol Eldritch, and Lur’Craftian families, oh and the Sinner Overlords.”

“Not to mention the Sins themselves!” added the smaller in a much chirpier tone “Expect Lucifer, dunno why he’s not there, but he sent his daughter instead.”

Crimson had already begun thinking them the first Imp spoke, though he could see no easy way to exploit any of the largest families in Hell, the Sinner’s weren’t worth his time either, and he’d lost one of his best lawyers last time he f*cked with one of the Sins – a mild inconvenience, but still an irritating one. He perked, however, at the news of Lucifer’s daughter attending, without either of her parents to protect her…

“Was she alone?” he asked the smaller of the two imps.

“Who?”

“Lucifer’s daughter, you nitwit!”

“Oh! Well, yeah, kinda. She was sticking close to one of the Overlords, so I bet he’s her bodyguard or summin’”

“Might be the other way around” interrupted the taller, drawing Crimson’s attention “I saw them in the hall after dinner, looked like she was practically carrying him.”

“Hmm,” Crimson hummed, eyes narrowing as he sat back and contemplated the information. It was well known that the so-called Princess of Hell was little more than a bleeding heart, goodie two shoes, all sunshine and rainbows despite who her parents were. Last he’d heard there had been some commotion up in Pride and her daddy had to come barrelling in to save her… and if her only guard was on his last legs, well… who was he to pass up such an opportunity?

After all, who better to have under his thumb than the king of hell himself?

Chapter 5: Spa day vs Chess Game

Chapter Text

Even when he was alive, Alastor had never been much of a good sleeper, not that it ever particularly bothered him – his little hobby was best done in the cover of darkness after all. When he came to Hell it had been more than his natural time clock keeping him awake, the new senses of his deer-esque form taking a lot of getting used to. The fact he could now hear and smell more than he could before, always alert and on guard for danger, made sleep difficult. In time he’d gotten accustomed to it, but still remained a poor sleeper.

As such, usually when he woke up – that was it. He was awake and would be for the rest of the day, not a chance he’d fall back to sleep. Yet, as he was beginning to rouse this particular morning there was something different. He was warm, and there was a sweet almost cinnamon-like scent to his pillow that made him turn his face into it and take a deeper breath. He could very easily slip back into slumber, something he could never remember doing in either his lifetime or the afterlife… if he hadn’t become aware that his pillow seemed to be breathing.

Eyes snapping open, Alastor jerked away and regretted the sharp move instantly. His entire body ached, though it was significantly less painful than it had been the last few months, his wounded chest stinging but again less sharply than it had previously. A hand went to his chest automatically, finding no bandages there but the wound had been neatly sewn up in a far neater way than he’d ever done himself, it was clean and no longer the weeping mess it had been yesterday. He was then distracted when his ‘pillow’ moved.

Charlie was fast asleep, half sat up against a pile of cushions propped against the headboard of the large bed, her body curled towards him. She snuggled a bit deeper into her pillow, frowning slightly, as Alastor watched and realised with some alarm that what he’d thought was a pillow earlier, had in fact been her lap.

What the-? The last thing he remembered clearly was agreeing to let her help him… when the hell had that devolved into sleeping in the same bed as the Princess of Hell with his shirt wide open?!

Movement on the wall caught his attention, finding his shadow pointing at him with his head thrown back and the other arm on its belly, clearly laughing at his predicament. Oh, now that just would not do…with a snap of his fingers the shadow was pulled from the wall back to his own body, allowing him to re-open that connection between them and let him see through his shadow’s memories exactly what had happened the night before.

As the memories flew past his mind's eye, he felt himself growing more embarrassed, more frustrated and when he realised he’d almost let slip about his own deal, more panicked. She could not know about that. How was he supposed to gain her trust if she became suspicious his actions were not his own?

Something shifted in his hair, catching lightly against his antler, causing him to not only jump with surprise but shiver at the unfamiliar sensation. A tilt of his head told him that one of Charlie’s hands was buried in his hair, her claw-tipped fingers brushing lightly through his fur-like hair. That in itself made him scowl, not entirely because of the action… but because he liked it.

When was the last time someone had run a hand through his hair? Of course, who would have the audacity given not only his reputation as the fearsome Radio Demon but his strict dislike of being touched in general? Even his mother – who had been the only one he ever allowed to touch him - had stopped doing so after he turned ten years old, claiming he was too old now, and even before that it was a gesture reserved only for when he was sick.

She… really does care about me.

His realisation the night before still stuck with him, gnawing at him, forcing him out from under her hand and away from her warmth as he slipped off the bed (scolding himself when the thought to crawl back to her side and let sleep take him once more crossed his mind) he rushed into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him, in order to create some space between himself and the unusual temptation.

Leaning against the sink, the radio demon got a good look at himself in the large mirror hanging over it. His skin had returned to its greyish hue, gone where the bags beneath his eyes, and the gold lines of angelic energy had receded down his throat but had not faded completely. He looked better than he had in weeks and felt stronger too. Regardless of whatever else had happened the night before, whatever magic resided in that silver apple appeared to be working like a charm.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel… embarrassed, he supposed was the word. The memories he had were fuzzy, relying completely on what his shadow observed to recall anything.

Alastor removed the rest of his clothing (noticing immediately that doing so did not result in agonizing pain as it had before) and climbed into the shower, scrubbing himself quickly with the complimentary unscented soaps the Lodge provided. As he did, he mulled over those memories of the night before.

He had behaved like a petulant child when she gave him the apple - though, in his defence, sweet things really were not to his taste (he even sprinkled his beignets with cinnamon rather than sugar whenever the craving for them took him!). Charlie had climbed on top of him, forcing him to eat, even tricked him and he just let her. Why? Even drugged and weakened it would have taken very little strength to throw her from his lap.

Perhaps he had simply felt sympathetic, recalling through his shadow’s eyes her confession of feeling responsible for Sir Pentious’ death, he had even offered her words of comfort in the form of reasoning that she could not possibly be responsible for the actions of others. He was less embarrassed about this, sure he would have said something along the same lines in his right state of mind too.

No, most concerning were his claims to ‘having a piece of her’ that he ‘wouldn’t let them take’, asking if he would break her heart. Alastor leaned back, eyes closed, under the spray of the shower and grimaced at the memory as the water hit his face. He must have been truly under the drugs effects by that point as he wasn’t even sure what he meant! Hopefully, she would take it (and anything else he happened to say) as the incoherent rambling of a man in pain and nothing more… and talking about his mother like that! He flinched at the mere memory of how the woman would have scolded him for his reckless words.

Turning off the water, the deer demon stepped out of the shower, his shadow handing him one of the Lodge's fluffy green towels that he wrapped around himself. He glared at his reflection once again, now barely discernible in the now foggy mirror. Whatever pills she had given him the night before had for sure helped with his pain, but had also lowered his guard and loosened his lips in the worst possible ways. A repeat could not be allowed to happen.

XXXXXX

Something was poking her cheek.

“Mmmph,” the princess of hell groaned, pressing her face further into her pillow “Five more minutes.”

A snort, and then her head was pulled out of the warmth of her pillow by something yanking not-so-gently on her hair. Charlie’s eyes shot open, waving an arm behind her wildly, but Razzle was faster and dodged her flailing. This was not, after all, the first time the goat demon had needed to wake his mistress in a more forceful fashion.

“Urgh, Razzle, whyyyy?” she stopped flailing upon realising she was not under any kind of attack, sitting up on the bed and stretching as she yawned widely. It took her a good five minutes of blinking blearily at the room to remember where she was and realise three things:

One, she had overslept, which explained Razzle’s insistent wake-up call. Two, that she’d fallen asleep in the first place despite trying to stay awake in case Alastor needed her in the night. And three, that said Radio Demon was gone.

Bolting off the bed as she began to search the room, the first thought that popped into her head was that something had obviously gone horribly wrong while she was asleep, or worse that someone had come in and taken him! Both were ridiculous. For one thing, she seriously doubted that if anyone had come in (which was impossible anyway with her spell still on the door) Alastor would have gone quietly. No, the infamous radio demon would do his best to slaughter his would-be attacker half-dead himself or not, and there wasn’t a chance she’d sleep through that.

Her biggest clue that he’d left of his own free will was finding the bathroom steamed up and a used towel hung up to dry on the heated rack. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine a kidnapper would be willing to let him shower and clean up after himself. Part of her was a little annoyed he’d gotten up and left without a word, (how’s that for gratitude?) though she was mostly unsurprised if he had any memory at all of the night before.

Nor did she have much time to think about it, as Razzle pointed at the clock and reminded her she had barely fifteen minutes until she was supposed to be downstairs for the first meeting. Charlie hurried to get dressed, almost falling over as she tried to pull on her pants and brush her teeth at the same time, Razzle helping her to tame her wild hair and pull it into her usual ponytail.

Al’ had probably just woken up and decided to let her keep sleeping, maybe his way of thanking her for helping him out last night? Or maybe he’d been hungry and gone off to breakfast. Sure, it would have been nice for him to wake her so she actually had time to get ready, on the other hand, she probably should have set an alarm herself. Besides, it was a good sign he was up and apparently able-bodied enough to move around… or at least she hoped it was a good sign. She really hoped he wasn’t pushing himself too far if he still felt unwell – which reminded her, she’d need to talk to him and explain the cure wasn’t complete until the gold lines disappeared completely…

She could catch him after the meeting, she was going to be late!

Still pulling on her usual red blazer, Charlie ran out of the room with Razzle right behind her and had to pirouette on her toes to avoid crashing into an Imp who appeared to have been just outside her door, shouting her apologies as she took off down the hallway. How she managed to get down all the stairs without falling on her face was a miracle in itself, finally getting to the hall (thankfully everyone was still taking their seats) she found her own at the table of Sins, a chair draped in the colour red for Pride, and practically threw herself into it, panting. Razzle came to land atop her seat, chuckling behind his paw, looking far less frazzled – not for the first time, Charlie envied his ability to fly.

“Woah, where’s the fire?” Bee joked, peering around Satan in order to give Charlie a concerned look.

“I’m so sorry! I overslept!”

“You, and Belphagor – I had to practically drag her ass here!” Bee snickered, jerking her head towards the Sin of Sloth sitting at the far end of the table, head resting on her hand and looking suspiciously like she was napping.

Charlie chuckled at her aunts, though she quickly adopted a more sober expression when she caught the eye of Satan beside her. Her uncle had always had a more stoic outlook, and a ruthless reputation, not that he couldn’t be a lot of fun when he wanted – but he always believed that as the Sins themselves, they should represent the strength of Hell, joking around in front of the rest of Hell’s royalty and leaders was not something he approved of. Sitting up in her seat, folding her hands neatly on her lap, Charlie did her best to appear the picture of a professional as she observed the rest of the room.

It didn’t take long for her to spot a streak of crimson in the crowd, and her eye dragged to the table of Overlords in a far corner. Alastor appeared to be in deep conversation with Rosie and Zestial, sitting between them. Carmilla Carmine on Zestial’s other side looked very close to either leaving the room or possibly murdering Velvette who sat beside her. Valentino was leaning back in his chair, both sets of arms folded over his chest, it was possible he was asleep from what Charlie could see. Vox was on his other side, throwing annoyed looks towards Alastor.

Charlie raised a hand in a small wave when she thought she saw him glance her way, but he either ignored her or didn’t see. The princess fought a frown, her stomach sinking at the same time as a wave of relief rushed over her to see how well he seemed. Perhaps she had been mistaken and he hadn’t looked her way, simply glancing around the room as he listened to whatever it was Zestial was saying that was making Rosie laugh. Of course, it was just as likely he was purposefully avoiding her if he remembered anything from last night… though, if he did, she’d be impressed considering he probably took enough pills to knock out a horse. If it was true though she’d be pissed – hadn't she promised not to tell anyone anything?

“If we might begin-?” Leviathan spoke from beside Belphagor, his voice echoing naturally around the hall and drawing the attention of all (and causing the Sin of Sloth to jerk awake with a grunt).

The meeting began, and Charlie really did try to pay attention, but the second they began discussing tax – Mammon chimed in on raising the tax on any products made in Greed (to absolutely no one’s surprise) by an extortionate amount causing some argument – her attention began to wander. Looking down the table at the rest of the Sins, Satan was completely rigid in his seat resembling more a stone statue than a living demon. Bee was drumming on the table with her hands, apparently paying about as much attention to Mammon beside her as Charlie was, Ozzie sat on Mammon’s other side with his chin in his hand rolling his eyes, Leviathan was the one arguing with Mammon and Belphagor seemed to be asleep again.

Her attention began to wander around the room, picking out a few familiar faces such as Paimon and Stolas, who seemed shockingly interested in whatever Mammon had to say, even appearing to take notes. She noticed Seviathan sat leaning back in his chair attempting to balance on two legs only like a teenager. His sister was beside him, and if she thought she was fooling anyone by hiding her phone under the table she was sorely mistaken. Charlie was doing everything she could to try to prevent her eyes from straying towards the Overlord's table too often, to one Overlord in particular. When she did glance over she half expected him to catch her eye, to wordlessly say with just a look ‘I told you the only danger here would be dying of boredom, my dear’ but Alastor was never looking at her. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d say he was deliberately not looking at her.

Not that this upset her. No, she was simply… concerned. She still needed to talk to him about last night, after all, explain the cure would need to be repeated until the gold marks the heavenly poison made upon his skin had disappeared completely – and until then, he’d need to cut down on his magic. The silver apple might trick the poison into feeding on the magic she used to make it rather than him, but that didn’t mean he was quite full strength just yet. He’d need to allow himself time to get stronger again, just the same as recovering from any other sickness.

The meeting dragged on until almost lunchtime, even then Leviathan and a few others were only able to renegotiate Mammon’s proposed tax hike down by twenty-seven per cent. Charlie grimaced a bit at that and made a mental note to double-check check none of the hotels frequently bought items came from Greed when they got back.

As demons began to filter out of the hall, the princess made a mad dash down from the head table in an attempt to catch Alastor – getting so close as to catch his eye at the same moment he dissolved into shadows just outside the doors right before she could try calling out.

Definitely avoiding her then.

Charlie stood there tapping her foot with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face as demons moved around her to exit the hall. Oh, she had half a mind to spend the rest of her day hunting him down, just who the heck did he think he was blatantly avoiding her like that after all she’d done to help him? Did her promise not to tell anyone about what happened mean nothing to him at all?! Before she could make it her mission to track him down like the damn deer he was, her phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered in a clipped tone without bothering to look at who was ringing.

“Well damn,” came Angel's familiar voice, sounding more amused than upset “Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?”

“What? No one- sorry Angel, I’m just in a bad mood.”

“Don’t worry about it, toots, but uh…” he hesitated “… let's just say, hypothetically, if the kitchen was ever on fire -uh- what would you do?”

Charlie blinked, removing the phone from her ear for a second so she could stare at it, when she brought it back to her ear she was able to just make out the voices in the background. Husk and Vaggie arguing, and Nifty screaming something about the kitchen.

“There are fire extinguishers in the pantry, Angel” she sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Awesome, thanks,” he said, the phone becoming muffled (she assumed he put a hand over it) as he yelled, “-hey asshats, there’s extinguishers in the pantry!”

Charlie listened to the muffled chaos, relieved when she heard the spray of the extinguishers until finally, the sounds began to fade. Angel must have left the kitchen, she assumed.

“Ya’know, you probably should have warned us before you left that Vaggie can’t cook for sh*t.”

“Yeeaah, we’re both pretty lousy in the kitchen, honestly. Thanks for calling to ask about the extinguishers.”

“Ah, well, I figured since we just rebuilt this place you probably wouldn’t want to come home to it burnt to the ground because little-miss-depth-perception can't make grilled cheese” Angel snorted, “how is your vacation going anyway?”

“Hardly a vacation, Angel, I just spent the entire morning listening to tax debates.”

“Ouch” he actually sounded sympathetic “Yeah, okay, that sounds pretty sh*t. But I’m sure you can find a way to make it fun… sharing a room with Sir Creepsalot, right? Betcha he could do with some stress relief too if you know what I mean.”

“We always know what you mean” Charlie huffed “and no, absolutely not. We’re business partners!”

“Since when has that stopped anyone?” Angel snorted a laugh, “If that’s the best excuse you can come up with, won't be long till you two are bumping uglies!”

“Angel Dust!”

“Ha, ha I’m kidding princess, c’mon. But seriously, I’m giving you my professional opinion, you seriously need to get laid. Like, stat. It’s good for stress!”

“I’m not… what… just, no” Charlie dragged her hand over her face and wondered how rude it would be if she just hung up the call.

“Just sayin’, we’ve all noticed how wound up you’ve been since we kicked heaven’s ass – and what with you breaking up with vagin*-“

“-Vaggie-“

“-and her seein’ other people, maybe getting railed till you can't think straight is what you need right now. Bonus if it's Smiles, since then maybe he’d come back less pissy too.”

Charlie glared at nothing as she ground out, “I’m hanging up now.”

“Just think about it won't ya-“ was the last thing she heard before hitting the end call button. The princess groaned, rubbing her temples with her fingertips, staving off the headache.

“Well now, if ever there was a bitch in need of a spa day, I’d bet it was you.”

Turning to look over her shoulder, Charlie wasn’t at all startled to find Bee and Bel behind her, looking at her with a mixture of concern and amusem*nt on their faces.

“Spa?”

“Yeah, there’s one in the Lodge – how f*cking great is that?” Bee grinned “dunno about you, but I need it after sitting through Mammon’s preaching. Wanna come with us?”

She thought about it. Alastor was clearly avoiding her, and while she still felt she needed to warn him that the cure was not complete, perhaps it would be better to wait for him to realise and come to her himself. If his pride would allow him, that is, and she’d be pretty pissed off if he let himself get so sick again. Then again, why should it be down to her to chase after him if he was going to ignore her like this? Besides, Angel was right about one thing at least… she had been terribly stressed lately…

“I’d love to” Charlie smiled up at her aunts, nearly topping over when both of them flung arms around her shoulders and wedged her between them as they headed towards the spa, almost as if they were afraid she might change her mind and try to run off.

The three women checked into the spa, Bee signing them up for all amenities offered, and were each given a soft fluffy robe to change into while their clothes were kept in private lockers. It was rather quiet in the spa, finding the only other patron of the day was Ozzie who was already enjoying a deep tissue massage when the other three joined him.

If Charlie had any doubts at all that the spa had been a bad idea, they vanished the moment the masseuse’s hands glided up her shoulders and pressed deep to work out the tension held in the muscle, her entire body turning to jelly as she let out a sigh. It was to no one’s surprise when Belphagor fell asleep during her massage, while Ozzie and Bee spent a good deal of it gossiping. Charlie stayed mostly quiet, far too close to nodding off herself.

Mud baths came next, complete with facials and a mani-pedi. Charlie couldn’t remember the last time she felt so pampered, almost to the point of awkwardness honestly. Sure, as a princess she had grown up with plenty of servants around her parent's castle willing to do whatever she ordered, but it had never felt comfortable ordering them to do this for her when she was perfectly capable of doing them herself. When she became an adult, making her dreams known and knowing full well just how other demons thought she was a naïve fool, that awkwardness grew into a whole other thing. A tangled knot of anxiety that seemed to lurk beneath her chest anytime she was put in a position of bossing others around. She could barely send back food in a restaurant for satan’s sake! As such, she found herself struggling to make more than menial small talk with the demoness tending to her, especially when she received little more than disinterested replies. It was a relief to her when they showered off the mud and retreated to the saunas instead.

Charlie sat on a bench with her towel wrapped tightly around herself, beside Ozzie who had a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and his arms propped behind his head slumped in his seat as his flaming mane became subdued in the steam-filled air. Bee and Belphagor sat opposite them, Bee spooning water over the coal pit with a grin, while Bel had relaxed to the point of almost looking like a boneless puddle in her seat.

“I really needed this today” Charlie sighed, shutting her eyes as she leaned back, letting the warm fresh steam wash over her.

“You do look a ton better” Bee said, adding at a look from Ozzie, “not that you don’t always!”

“And you know we’d never pass an opportunity to spend some time with our favourite niece” Bel slurred.

“I’m you’re only niece, Aunt Bel” Charlie smiled, keeping her eyes closed.

“You can be the only one and still be our favourite.”

“And we hardly get to see you anymore now you’re all grown up” Bee huffed, “I swear, last I blinked you were this awkward skinny ass teenager who thought I was the coolest sh*t since you’re dad fell!”

“Aw, I still think you’re cool, Aunt Bee!”

“Yeah but now look at you, this gorgeous bitchin’ badass leading f*cking rebellions and sh*t!” Bee exclaimed, pride reverberating in every word, she almost missed it when Ozzie glared at her and shook his head – not that she could miss it when Bel elbowed her ribs and shot her the same warning look.

Frowning now, Charlie sat up in her seat a little and opened her eyes again (completely missing the exchange between the Sins) she grimaced as she admitted, “Well, I hardly did much… dad was the one who ended things. I nearly died, if he hadn’t shown up when he did…”

“Aw, honey,” Ozzie tutted beside her, drawing her gaze up to him “You’ve always been a lover, not a fighter. That’s not a bad thing.”

“In the middle of a war when someone’s literally trying to kill you, and you’re too weak to stop them, I think it’s probably a bad thing” Charlie responded dryly, turning to fix her gaze on the smouldering coals in front of her instead as she replayed her fight with Adam on the rooftop of the destroyed hotel in her mind.

“So you’re not the best fighter” Bee shrugged, keeping her tone encouraging “big f*cking deal. But you and I both know you’re anything but f*cking weak, bitch. You know when to stand up for yourself, and have the power to back it up when you do. I taught you that myself!”

Charlie’s lip quirked at the memory, how often she would run to Bee after a terrible day at Hell School. Unironically, Hell School was – in her opinion – probably the most torturous place in hell itself. She was Lucifer and Lilith’s daughter, the princess of hell, and the whole school knew exactly who she was. When they realised she was more of a pacifist than a brawler however… well, kids could be so cruel. Her parents hadn’t seemed to care, only ever preached to her how they were her people and she was so very powerful compared to them, she had to be careful. Don’t lose your temper now, Charlie. Aunt Bee had been more sympathetic, though there were times Charlie had to plead with her not to hunt down her bullies, Bee had instead taught her the right way to make a fist and bought her steel-toed boots to make sure her kicks hurt just that much more.

“Having power and not abusing it is a different kind of strength” Bel piped up blearily.

“Exactly!” the other two agreed.

Charlie gave a soft nod, but in her head did not agree. It wasn’t about abusing her power, but using it when she needed it. Even fighting Adam she’d held back, she knew it. Perhaps it had been ingrained in her so deeply to keep herself in check that even when she needed it she hadn’t been able to let herself use her whole strength. She felt like a massive disappointment that she’d barely lasted a few minutes in her solo fight against the first man. Heck, she’d lasted longer than that when she fought Katie Killjoy! If she’d been more skilled, perhaps they wouldn’t have been relying on Alastor as their strongest fighter, and perhaps Sir Pentious wouldn’t have…

Charlie sighed, completely missing the way the other three exchanged a concerned frown over her head.

But… perhaps Bee had raised a good point, albeit in a roundabout way. When she’d needed to learn how to defend herself from her bullies she’d sought out Bee to teach her how to throw a proper punch. Maybe what she needed now was someone to teach her how to use her own abilities properly. Not her father, she’d already voiced her concern that she needed to be stronger to protect her people from the threats they faced, but he’d only chuckled awkwardly, patted her on the head, and told her she didn’t have to worry so long as he was around. Coming from a man who had only recently made an effort to become more involved with her life, this hadn’t made her feel better, which she felt just a little terrible for.

Charlie was dragged from her thoughts as the sauna door opened, releasing a large gush of steam as a bit of the cooler air snuck its way inside. Stolas slipped into the room with a soft smile and a white towel wrapped around his waist, only to start when he noticed the three Sins and princess watching him.

“Oh, ah-ha, my apologies… I can come back later if-“

“-Don’t be silly, Stolas” Charlie was the first to reassure him, glad of the distraction, giving him a welcoming smile “Come sit with us, have you been to the rest of the spa?”

“I did, I found it most relaxing” the owl demon cooed, taking a seat on the other side of Ozzie as the Sin of Lust poured more water on the coals to replace the steam they’d lost when the door opened. “I needed to take my mind off the fact my father has decided to spend the rest of the day with Via, poor girl. I have the terrible feeling he’s attempting to matchmake her into an arranged marriage against my wishes.”

“Urgh, I hate arranged marriages” Ozzie grunted as he leaned back into his seat again “So unorganic. But it does remind me, just how is your love life these days, Stolas?”

The goeita stiffened and didn’t meet the gaze of the large blue demon beside him as he answered, “A-ah, well… the divorce is dragging! Stella is determined to take everything I have, I’m more than happy to give if it will just make her go away, but no matter what it just never seemed to be enough!”

“Sounds like a pain in the ass” Ozzie offered with some sympathy, but added slyly “However, I was talking about the… other thing.”

“What other thing?” Bee asked, sensing something juicy and leaning forward in her seat. Even Charlie was curious, noting how Stolas’ face had tinged with pink – she didn’t think it was from the heat. Belphagor had given into her nature and snored softly, oblivious to it all.

“W-well, I- uh…”

Ozzie chuckled, leaning across the coals forwards Bee, and told her “Stola’s is in love with an Imp.”

Bee clapped both sets of hands to her face, “Awww, no way! Gimme the deets!”

“Thank you for that, Asmodeus” Stolas huffed.

“Oh please, everyone knows about my Fizzie” Ozzie snickered, adding “and Bee has been going steady with a hellhound for how long now? We ain’t gonna judge.”

“Exactly” Bee agreed with a nod, “love is love, no matter who or what you are. Now, tell me about this Imp of yours…”

“Well, it's… complicated. He’s complicated.”

“All the best ones are” Ozzie hummed with a dreamy smile on his face.

Bee frowned, “not my Tex, thankfully, he’s a pretty straightforward guy. What about you, Charlie?”

“Huh?” the princess blinked, surprised to be brought into the conversation.

“You and the smiling guy” Bee pulled at her lips to demonstrate a toothy grin “Is he complicated?”

You have no idea. Charlie thought but didn’t voice out loud as she realised why Bee had asked her about Alastor. “Oh, we’re not together like that, Aunt Bee – Al’ and I are just business partners.”

“Really?” the sin of Gluttony quirked an eyebrow, sharing a glance with Ozzie over the coals.

“Yeah. He just helps me run the hotel.”

“But you, like, totally have the hots for each other, right?”

“W-what? No!” Charlie knew her face must be turning scarlet now, rushing to explain “It’s not like that! I mean, I’m just getting out of a long-term relationship and Al… well, I’m almost certain he’s not interested in anyone like that at all!”

“Uh-huh” Ozzie gave a small, puzzled, frown “Charlie, sweetie, you know how Bee and I can feel the energy of the demons around us, right?”

“Y-yes?” she didn’t like where this was going.

“Now I don’t want to burst your bubble, honey, but… we are totally picking up the vibes on you two.”

Charlie gaped, completely speechless.

“Oz is right, Char-Char” Bee kept her tone gentle, seeing the startled look on Charlie’s face, “definitely a vibe.”

Clearing her throat, Charlie told her traitorous heart to calm down and focused on the coals like they were the most interesting thing in the world. “I don’t know what ‘vibe’ you mean, but if you picked up anything from Alastor it was probably because he wanted to eat me or something. Literally. He’s a cannibal.”

Beside her Ozzie blinked, but Bee - who was not completely unfamiliar with the Radio Demon’s reputation before now – barely skipped a beat as she asked, “Okay, but what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“The vibes go both ways, sweetheart.”

Charlie scowled at the coals, “I don’t have feelings for Alastor. That would be crazy! He’s my friend, and my business partner, that could put the whole hotel in jeopardy! Besides, he’s selfish, manipulative, egotistical… and did I mention the cannibal thing?”

“Eh, so he’s got flaws” Bee shrugged “It’s hell. Who doesn’t? Besides, you dated Seviathan and he’s all those things too. Okay, minus the cannibal part… I think.”

“Urgh, don’t remind me” the princess groaned, standing as she held her towel around herself, “I think I’m steamed enough for today- I have some therapy sessions to plan for the hotel anyway…”

“Oh, no, Charlie don’t go-“ Bee scrambled immediately “-I was only teasing! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know, Aunt Bee,” Charlie smiled “but I really do have some sessions to plan. I’m sure we can hang out again in the next few days!”

“I believe I will take my leave as well” Stolas stood, giving a small bow to the three Sins that remained, he even held the door open for Charlie to pass through before him.

On the way back to the communal lockers to fetch their clothes, both the princess and the Goeita prince were silent save for the light click of his clawed feet against the floor. When they finally got to the locker room, Stolas again held the door for her, and the prince finally spoke.

“I am sorry my presence brought about a conversation that made you uncomfortable, Princess.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Stolas” Charlie told him kindly, heading for her designated locker, “I imagine they would have found a way to bring it up eventually…”

“Still, if I had not been there…” he shook his head “Perhaps I can make amends, offer a distraction maybe? Would you care to have dinner with myself and Via tonight? Your business partner may join as well, if he wishes, though as my father will most likely be present as well I can understand if he chooses not to.”

“Oh!” she was surprised by the offer, but smiled and said “I would be honoured to have dinner with you and your family… though, I can't say for sure if Alastor will join us. He appears to be avoiding me.”

“I can actually relate to that” Stolas gave an unhappy smile.

Charlie winced at his miserable tone, “Does… do you mean the imp you like?”

“Indeed” he groaned “but I do not wish to burden you with my relationship woes!”

“It’s no burden, Stolas. You’re my friend, I’d be happy to listen if you want to talk about it.”

Stolas sat on one of the benches in the middle of the locker room, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he gave a heavy sigh and admitted to her in a rush; “as I said, Blitzo is …complicated. I know something bad happened with his family and he rarely speaks of them now, or to them, I believe. I know whatever it was it scarred him, more than just physically, and this thing between us… It started out contractually, which I don’t believe has helped. It didn’t take long for me to begin feeling something besides just lust for him, I… I hoped he had as well. I thought he had. But I hurt him, and I don’t know how to fix things or if I even can! I know I need to end our arrangement if this thing between us is ever to have a chance at being something more, but I’m terribly afraid that if I end our agreement if I set him free of his obligations to see me, that I will never see him again!”

There were tears in the owl demon's eyes when he finished, he gave a soft coo of surprise when Charlie appeared in front of him and took his hands in her own, rubbing her thumbs over the tops soothingly.

“Stolas, you’ll never be happy if you believe the only reason he’s with you is because you forced him,” she spoke softly “I can’t tell you everything will be okay, but you know I’m a big believer in redemption – perhaps setting him free will be enough to make amends for any hurt you’ve caused him, and maybe it will help him see exactly how you feel about him.”

“Hmm, redemption for a hell-born Goeita” Stolas hummed, smiling sadly “An amusing notion. But thank you, Princess… letting it all out has lifted a weight from my chest.”

“No problem, and you know where to find me if you ever want to talk again” she grinned “And enough of that ‘princess’ stuff, just call me Charlie!”

Stolas chuckled, “As you wish… Charlie.”

Slipping into separate changing rooms, Stolas told her through the thin walls a little more about this imp he was so enamoured with – about how they had met in childhood, and this thing he’d done with a balloon, the fact he ran his own business (though he wasn’t specific with what that business was exactly) and other stories of him – all while Charlie listened politely. Once dressed and ready to leave the spa, Stolas confirmed with her again that they would meet for dinner with his family, and parted ways. It was a few hours until dinner would be served, and Charlie really hadn’t been making excuses when she said she had therapy sessions to plan, so she made her way back to the room – surprising a shark demon dressed in a housekeeping uniform that appeared to be trying to get past the ward she’d placed on the door. The way he’d pouted when she politely told him they needed no housekeeping, she was quite happy to clean up after their messes herself, almost reminded her of Nifty.

Unsurprisingly, Alastor was not in their shared room. That would have been too easy. She sighed, plopping herself down beside Razzle on the sofa and snapping her fingers to light the fireplace in front of them, her goat demon bodyguard purring at the warmth as he curled back into a ball to continue the nap he’d been having before she disturbed him. Her notebook and pens were still on the seat next to her where she’d left them the night before and she picked them up, putting the book on her lap and tapping her pen thoughtfully against the page as she waited for ideas to come…

But her traitorous thoughts could only seem to wonder about her missing partner. Urgh, just where the heck was he exactly? She still needed to talk to him about the poison still in his system, and besides that the fact he was now so blatantly avoiding her… hurt. Which was pretty normal, right, when a friend starts avoiding you after you help them not die? It wasn’t like Ozzie and Bee were right and she had feelings for him or anything…

… I mean sure, she enjoyed his company. She could talk to him about pretty much anything, and more often than not he’d give surprisingly good advice. They had very similar tastes in literature and music, so there was never an end of conversation about those, and his terrible jokes and puns really were quite funny. Possibly her favourite thing, however, something so few ever seemed to notice it seemed, was those rare occasions she managed to get a real genuine smile from him. Of course, Alastor was always smiling, usually with his teeth bared and looking more feral than anything else, but she’d begun to notice the smiles meant different things. A wide smile with teeth showing was for intimidation, a tight-lipped smile meant he was irritated, but her favourite was one she’d rarely seen – and usually only ever in their shared office without others around to witness – it was a soft, closed mouth smile, accompanied by slightly hooded gaze and relaxed shoulders. He just seemed so… content, in those moments. No chaos, no murder, no schemes. Just her and him.

Charlie herself smiled as she remembered the first time she’d noticed that particular smile. It had been the month before the battle, she’d admittedly worn herself pretty thin doing her best to make a battle strategy and must have fallen asleep at her desk. A soft thunk and the smell of coffee was what woke her, and she’d lifted her head from her desk with a piece of paper stuck to her cheek to find him looking down at her with that smile, having placed a cup of coffee in front of her in her favourite rainbow mug. The gesture had lifted her spirit just enough to get through the rest of that day, and even now just remembering it warmed her…

…she dropped her pen as realisation struck her. Oh crap, had Bee and Ozzie been right after all? Maybe she did have the warm-and-fuzzies for Alastor… but that was all it was, right, just a silly little crush? It would go away.

It had to, right?

XXXXXX

Alastor leaned back in his seat and observed the chessboard before him as he awaited Zestial’s next move, the ancient Overlord taking his sweet time to make a decision. Not that he minded. He understood the need one had for a suitable battle strategy.

The four overlords, including the two males and Carmilla and Rosie, had retired to what appeared to be a parlour room after the tedious meeting had concluded this morning. Rosie was the one who had dragged him into socialising with them, though he could hardly refuse when Zestial challenged him to a game, he only half paid attention to the idle gossip Rosie was sharing with the group.

He did not feel badly at all for quite literally disappearing on Charlie that morning. After all, she had helped him and she had made her promise not to talk about what had happened between them (for all that was worth) so what was there to discuss? Nothing! Besides, it wasn’t like he was ignoring her completely, he’d sent his shadow a few times to check what she had decided to do with the rest of her day (with the strict instruction that it remain unseen by her this time) and it had reported back to him that she was spending some time in the spa with the rest of the sins. He was oddly relieved to hear that, knowing very few demons – even royal ones – would be likely to harass her in the company of the sins, and she could do with relaxing a bit anyway…

“Hell to Alastor- hello?” Rosie nudged him.

He started a little in his seat, leaning away from her touch, “My apologies, my mind was elsewhere dear, what was that?”

“I just asked why you decided to come to the Conclave this time, you usually avoid these things!”

“Ah,” he probably should have expected them to ask, “well, of course, the princess needed an escort, as apparently, she has had some trouble in the past with some unsavoury characters at these things - and considering her relationship with the angel came to an end some months ago it would appear I was the next best thing!”

“How chivalrous of you!” Rosie grinned widely, though a quirk of an eyebrow said she suspected this wasn’t the whole story.

“Indeed” Carmilla agreed, though she had fixed him with her cold steady glare “I would not have suspected you to be interested in defending the princesses honour, Alastor – unless, of course, there was something in it for yourself?”

Alastor narrowed his eyes at the demoness, mouth open to retort, but before he could Zestial interrupted.

“Haply the attentions of the princess herself are enough of a reward for our gallant friend?”

Rosie chuckled behind her hand, even Carmilla quirked an eyebrow on her almost expressionless face at the insinuation.

“Believe me, I did not need to come here if all I wished for was attention from the princess” Alastor huffed, Zestial’s insinuation completely flying past him “She is a very curious creature, I can barely get a moment alone in that hotel without her bothering me with renovation or redemption plans – and if it’s not that, she wants to discuss whatever little menial thought has popped into her head. It’s lucky for her she has some rather interesting takes on classic literature, or that she does not mind indulging in a spontaneous dance when the urge arises.”

“Thou speak as these things irritate thou, and yet the princess remains unharmed when thou hast slaughtered others for less,” said Zestial, sharing a smirk with Carmilla from the corner of his eye as they noticed the radio demon's tone had become less annoyed and more fond the more he spoke, and continued “forsooth it must but be irksome to be around someone so childish!”

“Quite the contrary,” Alastor argued “From her cheery disposition one would think Charlie to be immature, but her opinions can be rather insightful and thought-provoking, and not only does she sing like an angel, she is a very talented dancer-“

The deer demon was cut off when Rosie let out an excited squeal beside him, unable to contain herself anymore. “Oh, Alastor, I never thought I’d see the day! You like her!”

He frowned, smile becoming tight “Of course I like her, Rosie, I would not deign to be around her if I did not enjoy her company.”

“No, Al’ I mean you like her.”

“I do not follow?”

“I believe Rosie is trying to insinuate that you may have feelings for the girl. As in, more than a friend?” Carmilla supplied helpfully, expression amused.

Static screeched for a second.

When Alastor remained frozen, Zestial picked up his pawn and moved it across the board as he said, “I believe we may hast broken him.”

“Ha-ha!” the radio demon gave a loud, and clearly fake, laugh even going so far as to remove a fake tear from his eye at their suggestion. “Why, I needed a good laugh today! What a joke! But I fear your starry-eyed dreams are little more than that, Charlie and I are business partners and that is all. I would not even be so bold as you call us friends, how different we are…”

“I do not dance with my business partners” Carmilla said bluntly, “nor do I have shadowy servants check on them when I think no one is looking.”

He was startled, not only that she had accused him outright but that she had known what he was doing with his shadow – though it could only be a guess, there is no way she really could have known – though he probably should not have been. There was a reason Carmilla had risen to the rank of Overlord, when despite her business in arms dealing she so rarely engaged in menial turf wars.

“It may be that our friend hath join to care for the princess moe than he is aknown, and forsooth moe than he meant to” Zestial suggested calmly, steepling his fingers in front of him as he awaited Alastors next move on the board.

The deer demon only glowered at the pieces, not even considering his next move, only dwelling on the fact that if these three (noted, they were arguably the strongest of the overlords) had noticed his attachment to the girl then it wouldn’t be long before his enemies did too, if they hadn’t already. For as much as he would deny it when accused, he was more than aware that he was rather attached to the princess – what he had said under the influence of the drugs last night had made that abundantly clear. When lately he had, admittedly, grown vaguely concerned about how his future actions may affect her he had merely thought it was his own possessiveness coming out to play, for in a way he did consider Charlie to be his on some level. It had taken the drugs to realise the possibility that he did care about her too, a prospect he had never factored into his well-laid plans.

As if reading his thoughts, Rosie leaned over to pat his arm briefly and said “Don’t fret, dear, we won't go gossiping about this.”

He was somewhat surprised when Carmilla and Zestial both gave brief nods of agreement, it may not be a verbal agreement or a deal, but both of them were honourable enough that they likely meant it. Besides, they were probably somewhat afraid of what Rosie might do if they did go blab.

Still, moving his bishop piece to take one of Zestial’s paws, he chuckled “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, my dear, I’m afraid it’s not needed – I do not have any such feelings for the girl.” He denied. After all, one never knew who might be listening.

“Hmm” was all Rosie replied, giving him a thoughtful look. Carmilla simply rolled her eyes, and Zestial only moved his piece to checkmate.

Two more chess games – and a different conversation – later, Alastor was beginning to feel that nagging ache in his chest again, a now familiar pain beginning to make itself known. He tried to ignore it for a while, forcing himself to keep still and seated the few times it made a particularly dull throb, but he soon made an excuse with which to retire from their group. Clearly whatever remedy Charlie had administered the night before had stopped working, and fool that he was for avoiding her he’d now be forced to request her help once more lest he end up as weakened as he was once more.

Then again who was to say she had even noticed he was avoiding her? His shadow had reported back to him – though he had stopped sending it once he was aware the others had noticed – that she was in the spa with the three of the deadly sins. Evidently, she had chosen to spend her free time with those she considered family, so why could he not spend the day with his acquaintances? There had never been any stipulation on this trip that they must remain glued to the others side after all. Chances are the princess was suitably distracted and had barely noticed his absence. Which, while it rankled his ego a little bit, would work out rather well for him.

Yes, he could seek her out now, just before dinner. No doubt she’d be fretting, he had noticed her gaze wandering over him more than once during that terribly tedious meeting that morning (though, knowing a price hike was coming did remind him to be sure nothing too expensive in the hotel’s budget came from Greed) even if her day in the spa had managed to relax her at all. She would be relieved to see all is well, he would mention the returning pain, perhaps get help and then perhaps they could head down to dinner together…

Rounding a corner to head up the stairs towards the room, Alastor paused as his ear twitched at the tinkle of an all-too-familiar laugh. He searched the Lodge’s foyer, finding her almost immediately. Charlie had changed out of her usual pantsuit again, swapping it for a very simple red halter-neck dress over which she wore a small black cardigan, her long blonde hair once again tamed and this time braided down her back. She was with the same Owl demon they had spoken with the night before, the one she had seemed very comfortable with, and even as Alastor watched the tall Goeita offered her his arm – he was so tall compared to her that she looked almost like a child when she reached up and accepted his offer, laying her hand against his forearm.

He growled at the sight but swallowed his insane urge to go over and rip her from his grip as he watched the pair head into the dining hall clearly headed to dinner together as he watched. Static grew around him, disturbing a few demons nearby, but he paid them no heed.

Hadn’t the whole point of him coming along on this trip been to ward off her potential suitors? Hadn’t Charlie herself claimed how uncomfortable they made her? Clearly, she was more than comfortable with this owl prince, in fact from the smile on her face he would have said she rather seemed to enjoy his attention!

He felt his jaw clench, the telltale snap atop his head that told him his antlers had begun to grow in size atop his head, Alastor forced himself to turn away from the scene he had just witnessed and stalk out of the foyer – out of the Lodge itself in fact!

He was in no shape to be picking fights with princes.

Anger would not rule him, no more than any other pesky emotion, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t channel it towards something useful. It had, after all, been so long since he hunted in the swamp…

He made it as far as the water's edge before he allowed himself to transform to his more monstrous form – antlers sprawling with sharp-tipped points, his own teeth cutting his lips to allow blood to seep down his chin, neck and limbs snapping. He set his shadowy minions into the trees to flush out his prey, charging across the marshy ground as he followed the scent himself. He was barely aware of it when he startled a pair of imps lingering in the trees – though he heard their terrified shrieks and his grin stretched widely. His chest ached painfully, but it did not slow him down – not when his prey came within his sights. Hell had its strange array of wildlife (the theory was that occasionally rips in the fabric of hell itself left unmonitored portals to places like Earth, animals wandering in and becoming mutated over time the longer they survived) but this deer looked fairly normal to what you would see on earth. At least until he was done with it. He slaughtered the poor creature, devouring its body flesh and bone, and when he stood panting for his breath in the middle of the bog… he realised he felt full, yes, but his anger had not subsided.

Alastor growled, swiping his vicious long claws against a nearby tree and leaving deep gashes in the bark. Just what had gotten into him? Since when had Charlie’s dinner plans ever bothered him? Since when had it troubled him to see her laugh so comfortably and carefree with someone else?

Probably around the same time he began to wonder if his plans would cause her pain.

The radio demon stalked his way back towards the lodge, returning to his usual size and covered almost head to toe in marshland muck, his rampage through the trees earlier must have scared off anything else because he found nothing else worth taking his frustrations out on. Which was probably a good thing anyway, as now he’d worked off some of his bloodlust the pain in his chest seemed to have returned ten-fold, becoming a sharp stabbing sensation that forced him to wince with every step.

Enough of this, he thought, snapping his fingers and allowing the shadow to swallow him up. He reappeared in the room he was sharing with Charlie, immediately swaying on his feet when he saw a kaleidoscope of colours flash across his eyes and light-headedness overtake him. Utterly drained, Alastor slumped into the nearest chair with a huff.

No sign of the princess or her pet goat, he noted, just before the darkness took him.

Chapter 6: At night, we talk

Chapter Text

Charlie hummed pleasantly on her way back to the room. Dinner with Stolas and his family had been a surprisingly pleasant distraction from her stacking worries, even if there had been moments of awkwardness.

She had sat with Stolas and his daughter, Octavia, as invited – though before the food had been served they had been interrupted by Seviathan attempting to lure her over to join him for dinner instead, only for him to be unceremoniously shoved to the side by an overly excited Paimon when he realised his son had invited the princess to dine with them – and a few of the other Goetia family demons. There had been a few tense moments, usually when one of the Goetia’s mentioned Stolas’ divorce, but the owl demon merely ignored them and Paimon (though he clearly disapproved of the break-up) was quick to brush them aside and move on to another topic.

Honestly, she spent a lot of the dinner talking with Octavia. She was a shy thing at first, reminding Charlie quite a lot of herself (especially when she’d been going through her ‘its-not-a-phase-dad!’ phase) and they’d ended up discussing music of all things, and Charlie had left the dinner with a note in her pocket of bands the young princess had recommended.

It had been nice to not think about the hotel, Alastor or the concerning lack of reaction from heaven following the battle, at least for a few hours. They’d managed to keep conversation rather light and carefree actually, right up until Paimon began asking if Lucifer’s renewed interest in running Hell meant in any way that they may see the return of her mother soon (he had so missed her concerts!)

She’d dropped her fork at the unexpected question and disappeared under the table to recover it, allowing herself a few extra seconds to try and squash the unpleasant feelings that fluttered in her chest. When she resurfaced, composing herself and apologising, she’d answered honestly that she didn’t know.

Because really, she didn’t! She had no idea if her mother even knew what had happened lately, let alone if she had any reaction to it. Oh, it had crossed her mind once or twice to try to call her – usually late at night when she was kept awake by her worries – but what would be the point? She had no idea where her mother was, and honestly, Charlie was getting tired of having a one-sided relationship with her mother's voicemail. Her absence and lack of contact hurt… but not nearly so much as the hope that had lit in her chest at Paimon’s innocent question.

It had put a bit of a damper on her light mood, and the question continued to follow her on the way back to the room. She wasn’t so in her head however as to ignore the feeling in her gut that she was being followed, pausing in the hallway to look over her shoulder (she half expected to find a certain shadow quite honestly) but when an empty hallway greeted her she began to wonder if she wasn’t perhaps going a little crazy. Considering everything, she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

The room was dark when she entered, though there was a lingering scent of damp mud that made her nose twitch, but she assumed Alastor hadn’t returned yet. She sighed, not bothering with the light switch, the princes began to remove her braid and raised her other hand and gave a snap of her fingers as the fire in the hearth and the candelabras on the walls sprang to life bathing the room in a soft warm glow.

Alastor watched this from his chair with barely a twitch so as not to draw her attention just yet. He’d woken from his involuntary nap the second he heard the door open, his first instinct to be alert and ready for danger, but he’d relaxed upon realising it was just Charlie. He watched as her fingers began to undo her braid, running through her pale blonde strands to untangle the soft curls to cascaded down her back, but a certain thrill had run through him when she’d casually snapped her fingers and the flames of the room and jumped to obey her command.

Of course, he knew she had magic. How could the princess of hell not have magic? And yet, she so rarely ever seemed to use it – occasionally even seeming to forget she could! It intrigued him, her apparently disinterest in using it because he knew how powerful she was. He could feel it every time he was close to her, like static humming from her skin, all that delicious power coiled tightly in her petite little body hidden behind a bright smile and sunny disposition. Heck, sometimes when he was using magic around her he couldn’t seem to resist poking at her just to get a taste of that power.

She noticed him when she turned around, gaze landing on him as her fleeting expressions betrayed her thoughts, he was momentarily confused by the look of horror her expression finally settled on – at least until he remembered how he’d failed to clean himself off following his impromptu rampage in the woods.

“Alastor! What- where in hell have been, are you hurt-?!”

“Not to worry, my dear, none of the blood you see is mine,” he said, waving a hand, though he gave an involuntary wince as he leaned forward slightly as pain burned across his chest.

Honestly, she’d hardly noticed the blood, blending into his red suit so well, and had been more concerned by the mud and water coating the legs of his trousers and the sleeves of his jacket, though she supposed that explained the smell she first noticed upon entering the room. She must have worn a disapproving look when he mentioned the blood, as he chuckled and added “it’s animal blood, don’t worry, I didn’t slaughter any of your precious royal demons…”

“And you were sitting in the dark because…?”

“I found myself in need of a nap.”

“You were napping, covered in blood, mud and god knows what else?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, not missing the way he had winced when he moved. The fact he’d let himself remain so dirtied with a glaring red flag if ever she’d seen one.

“Hunting can be a very tiring exercise, my dear.”

“Uh-huh” she raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, sensing there was more to this than he was saying, “and why the heck would you go hunting, I didn’t think you would feel that much better than yesterday already?”

“Then you were mistaken” he scowled, flashing her a toothy smile that looked more like a grimace. When she continued to stare at him wordlessly, a foot tapping on the ground as she waited for him to continue, he begrudgingly admitted “I may have had some frustrations to alleviate.”

Now that admission did surprise her, just what could have bothered him enough to make him push his limits that way? Though, even as she thought to question the answer seemed obvious. Charlie let her arms drop to her sides as she wandered a little closer to where he’d still made no move to leave his chair. The princess of hell watched him with narrowed eyes, and decided to guess, “You’re in pain again, aren’t you?”

“I-“

“-and don’t lie to me about it. I thought we were past that” she glared, hands on her hips as she stood in front of him.

Alastor felt his eyebrows raise and the command in her tone, and though he was a little off-put that she’d known his first instinct was the lie, he couldn’t seem to help sitting straighter in his seat – even if it hurt to do so.

“Alright, darling, I will admit it does smart a bit.”

She snorted, and he felt himself freeze when she leaned down a bit and reached for his collar. She tugged the fabric aside just a bit, enough to see the gold lines of poison where slowly beginning to crawl back up his neck again. She let go again before the thought of slapping her away even crossed his mind, glaring back down at him again.

“For a smart man you can be pretty dumb sometimes,” she scolded, arms folding over her chest once more “Perhaps if you hadn’t run away this morning, and spent the whole day avoiding me, I could have warned you that the cure isn’t complete until those lines are completely gone.”

She was right of course. He knew that. He’d woken up with his head practically cradled in her lap with her hand in his hair and his shadows memories of the ridiculous things he’d said the night before, and he’d panicked. He’d felt stronger than he had in weeks, when she’d tried to catch him that morning after the meeting he hadn’t expected there would be a reason beyond wanting to discuss his terribly embarrassing actions under the drug's influence – something he didn’t want to address at all.

This did not mean he would sit back as she scolded him like an errant child, however.

Visibly bristling under her words, he retorted “Well you didn’t seem too concerned, Princess, spending your day relaxing in the spa!”

She gaped at him, wondering momentarily how he knew where she had spent her day though she quickly assumed he had been checking on her with his shadow and filed that titbit of information away for later thought, she resisted the urge to shout at him and settled on an incredulous tone as she asked: “you saw me and literally disappeared into shadows to avoid me, Al’, what was I supposed to do, chase you around the entire Lodge?!”

“Perhaps, if you were so worried-“

“- you are a grown-ass demon, dammit, and I am not your mother to run around after you!” She growled at him now, eyes turning to slits.

He felt himself swallow, though her words had struck a cord in him that showed him how foolish his actions had truly been, he simply could not resist asking, “And your dinner with the owl prince?”

“Stolas?” Charlie frowned, truly puzzled as to the direction this conversation had taken “What does he have to do with anything?”

“I would merely expect that if you were so worried for a friend as you claim, dinner dates would be the least of your concern,” he stood so he towered over her, swallowing a hiss at the pain it caused him, now crowding her space as he glared down at her “for someone who so claimed to loathe these gathers due to potential suitors, you seemed rather pleased by this one!”

Charlie blinked at him, now truly confused. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have said there was jealously lacing his irate tone, though that seemed so very unlikely.

“Stolas is gay” she retorted flatly, turning away from him.

“He’s what?” it was Alastor’s turn to frown.

“Gay. As in, he prefers men?” she huffed, still not looking at him “and the only reason he invited me to dinner in the first place was the distract me from the fact I was worried about you!”

Okay, so she left out the part where she’d also been worried about Bee and Ozzie claiming she had feelings for him. He didn’t need to know that part.

Feeling the irritation he’d been so desperately clinging onto during this entire conversation slipping from his grasp, the only response he could muster was a simple “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretched between them. Charlie sighed, glancing at him just once over her shoulder and giving a shake of her head. What else had she expected from him, really? Naturally, he would not take blame for the poison resurfacing in his system, or avoiding her so she could not warn him that it would happen. Whatever the sins thought they sensed, they were wrong. There was no way she could have feelings for this arrogant, selfish, fool of a man when he made her blood boil like this… Still, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t help him.

“Go get yourself cleaned up, we’ll take care of the poison after,” she told him without looking over her shoulder, fetching her pyjamas from the top of her suitcase where she’d thrown them in a haphazard pile in her rush to get out of the door that morning.

Alastor did not answer her, though she’d expected at least a little bit of protest. The only clue she had that he’d listened to her was the soft footsteps that crossed the room behind her, and the pained hiss he clearly tried to hide from her when he moved. She didn’t turn, refused to give in to her urge to rush to his side and make sure he was alright. He’d wanted to avoid her, after all.

He noticed the way her shoulders stiffened when a pained hiss managed to escape between his teeth, though it irked him to have made such a sound, it spoke volumes to him when the blonde did not turn around. Just how upset was she to not respond to his pain? Alastor couldn’t help feeling just a little contrite, considering a few mere hours ago he had been relieved she was relaxing and now he was allowing his emotions to get the best of him and likely undoing any sense of peace she’d had. It was his own fault, he’d avoided her, not the other way around.

Charlie started a little when he cleared his throat as he paused by the bathroom door. Quietly, as if afraid someone else might hear, he said “I do regret worrying you, my dear, though I’m sure you understand… these kinds of situations are not ones I am accustomed to. I hope you will bear with me as I trip and stumble my way through.”

The bathroom door shut before she could spin around to face him, still gaping at the wood. Well, that had certainly been unexpected! Charlie couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on her lips, throwing one last glance at the closed door, and hurried to get herself changed while he cleaned up – deciding she would not dwell on the way her heart fluttered.

In the bathroom Alastor turned on the shower to allow the water time to warm up, discarding his ruined clothing (he had plenty of the same outfit anyway) and slipping under the spray. He had to admit he felt somewhat better just from having the grime washed off his skin, though the pain remained lancing along the wound on his torso, and there was an odd lightness in his chest to know her dinner date had been little more than an attempt to get her mind off her worries. Though something about it still nagged at him, and though she claimed the owl to be gay he knew for a fact he had a daughter – one who looked far too like him to be adopted. It mattered not, in the end, he’d simply have to be certain there was no opportunity for it to happen again.

He scrubbed himself clean with the unscented soap provided until not one spec of bog muck remained on his person, though he was careful around the stitches she’d placed along his chest, before getting out of the shower and drying himself off. His hair always took the longest, more fur-like in texture it held water like it was nobody’s business much to his irritation, leaving it stuck up and at odd angles when he removed the towel from his head. He tamed it with a scowl and was about to snap his fingers to summon a fresh set of clothing when he paused. Given Charlie was just outside the door his first instinct had been to summon his usual attire, but given the late hour, he supposed that didn’t make much sense. Besides, he suspected there was a chance the Princess would insist upon seeing his wound once more, so a simpler outfit may be called for. Heaving a sigh, he snapped his fingers and a set of black pyjamas appeared on the counter beside him, the magic expended to do so leaving him light-headed for a moment. He changed, gave himself one last look over in the mirror, and exited the bathroom.

Charlie – who he noted had also changed into her usual red cotton pyjamas- was at the door of the room accepting something from a member of staff, though she looked over her shoulder when she heard him exit, she gave no more reaction to his return than a simple raise of her eyebrows and she turned back to thank the imp at their door and took what they handed to her. It was only when she turned around that he saw the bowl of apples in her hand, which she set down on the chest of drawers beside her.

“A bit late for a snack isn’t it, my dear?” he jested, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Har-har” Charlie simply rolled her eyes, considering he knew full well her tendencies to sneak off to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a bite when she couldn’t sleep.

He figured from her response she may well still be upset with him, deciding for once not to push it too much, and walked past her. As he did, Charlie spotted something unexpected out of the corner of her eye, and upon looking closer couldn’t contain her sharp gasp.

He snapped his head sharply to the side at the sound half expecting danger, only to see Charlie staring at him. Or rather, at a certain part of him a little lower down.

“I didn’t know you had a tail!” she squealed, a smile growing on her lips, her eyes wide as she stared at the fluffy red and black appendage sticking out from the waistband of his pyjama pants. He’d forgotten it tended to do that.

“Ah, well, it's not exactly something I advertise-“

“-it's so cute!”

“What?!” he growled, spinning around now so she could no longer stare. She pouted, immediately trying to move around him to get another look, forcing him to keep side-stepping so only his front faced her. He continued to spit, “It is not ‘cute’, it’s a nuisance is what it is!”

“It’s adorable” Charlie teased in a sing-song voice, “who would have guessed you’d have a cutesy little tail to go with those precious ears?”

“P-precious ears?!”

Charlie was hardly making an effort to get around him now, more amused by his red-faced reactions and stuttering protests than anything else – he’d teased her so often, it was rather nice for the shoe to be on the other foot for a change! Mischievously she made as if to reach around and touch it, though she moved slow, so she was unsurprised when he caught her wrist in a firm grip and stopped her.

“Aww, won’t you let me touch? I just wanna know if it really is fluffy!” she smirked.

“Ab-absolutely not!” he looked offended at the mere suggestion, ears pinned to his head, face almost as red as his hair.

“You should see the look on your face!” Laughing loudly, Charlie tugged her hand from his grip and stepped back. “I’m just teasing, Al’! I know tails can be a whole thing. Personally, I rather like mine being touched, but I guess it is rather intimate…”

“… Right.” He was momentarily distracted by the thought of her with a tail of her own. Not a fluffy deer tail like his own he imagined, no, it would be something more suiting to her… more elegant.

In fact, hadn’t Nifty told him she had one when she’d given him her play-by-play on what he had missed in the battle? He hadn’t believed much of what she said (what with her tendency to overexaggerate, well, everything) but if she’d been truthful about the tail, what else had been the truth? Had she really transformed in a fiery tornado? Had she really fought Adam?

“I’ll behave” She gave him a sweet smile over her shoulder as she stepped back towards the fruit bowl and grabbed one of the apples. She held it thoughtfully for a moment, when she looked back at him she’d schooled her expression to something a little more serious as she asked, “Can I see your chest, just to make sure the wound is okay?”

He knew his face was still red from her earlier teasing, but Alastor did not argue with her even as he felt a fresh wave of heat rising on his cheeks as he unbuttoned the front of his pyjama shirt even though he’d fully expected this.

Charlie observed his red face and the fact he wasn’t looking at her and felt a tiny bit bad for her earlier teasing, though not quite enough to apologise again. After all, he enjoyed winding her up any chance he got!

With each button he undid Charlie was able to see just a little more of his ashen flesh, finding herself a tad more curious to see than she had been the night before. Of course, the night before she had been more concerned about making sure he stayed alive. For some reason, she’d expected him to be a bit more scrawny than he actually was (she blamed the suits), and though he was still rather slim there was certainly a bit of muscle to him, which she supposed made sense given his hobbies where likely rather strenuous activities (initially meaning dancing, though she supposed hauling bodies around in his earthly life counted too). She couldn’t help but wonder at the dark scars that marked his skin, something she’d barely noticed last night.

At some point in her ogling she must have stepped closer, she hadn’t even realised she’d held a hand out until she felt the smooth texture of one such scar – a large one over his collarbone – beneath her fingertips. He inhaled sharply above her and she snatched her hand back with a blush on her cheeks, apologising immediately “Sorry!”

Alastor had noticed her watching him of course. He’d seen her step closer, seen her hand raise up to touch… he’d had more than ample time to stop her, and yet, he hadn’t. He didn’t quite understand why himself, curiosity perhaps? So few would ever dare to be so brazen. Even fewer would have kept their hand after.

Only one, in fact, it seemed. Her.

When he didn’t respond Charlie figured he wasn’t too upset and she was free to continue. Clearing her throat and averting her gaze back to the wound she was supposed to be inspecting, she observed the long wound and was pleased to see the stitches had held and nothing was oozing from it as there had been the night before. Good, at least some part of it was healing properly.

“It looks good,” she told him, forcing herself to take a step back so she might not be tempted to touch him again. She observed the gold lines still tracing across his torso, though the colour was beginning to fade the further they stretched from the wound itself which seemed to be a good sign. “We just need to take care of that poison now.”

“Yes, preferably before I’m writhing in agony once again.”

“Oh, so you admit to writhing?” she quirked an eyebrow.

He threw her a mocking glare as he rebuttoned his pyjama shirt, “Dramatics, darling.”

She gave a slight laugh, reaching for one of the apples from the fruit bowl. He watched as she broke the fruit open, something he vaguely remembered her doing the night before, and dug out one of the seeds. He remembered the next part from his shadow’s memory, watching as she held the seed in her clasped hands and shut her eyes with a small frown and the slightest hint of her pink tongue poking out from between her black lips as she bit down on it – something she usually did when she was concentrating very hard on something. A moment passed as he watched with interest, curious as to yet another display of her magic, as her hands began to glow pink and the silver apple began to grow from the seed within her palm.

When the light in her hands ebbed and the apple sat within her palm, Charlie opened her eyes again. She grinned at her success, then turned to him with an arched eyebrow and asked, “Will you eat this one without complaining, or will I have to force you again?”

Unbidden the memory of her sat on top of him popped into his mind -because of course the rest of the night would be a haze but that part he seemed to remember clearly, or at least he could remember the heat and surprisingly light weight of her. He might be blushing again. What was wrong with him tonight?!

He took the apple from her without a word and took a large bite, immediately regretting it when that sweet taste hit his tongue. He grimaced – which he saw her snickering at – but forced himself to chew, swallow, and take another bite as he sat on the edge of the bed facing away so she couldn’t watch his reactions.

Her snicker grew into full-blown giggling at his pout, but she let him have a moment before she asked curiously, “Hey, Al’... can I ask you a question?”

“You just did, my dear.”

“Har-har” she had half a mind to throw a pillow at him, rolling her eyes “I mean a personal question.”

“Hmm, well, you can ask but there’s never a guarantee I will answer.”

She expected as much, plucking at a thread fraying at the edge of her pyjama shirt, she asked anyway, “How did you get all those scars?”

Silence, just the sound of him slowly chewing.

“Where they from fights with other demons? Other Overlords?” she pressed a little, genuinely curious. Of course, she knew the story of the Radio Demon’s rise to power after all, heck after he’d arrived at the hotel Vaggie had made sure everyone knew, which she’d thought was a little silly – after all, she was the princess of hell. She’d been there far longer than any of the hotel’s current residents, she was more than aware of the Radio Demon’s history, she’d even heard a few of his broadcasts during his takeover. Yes, they were gruesome, and terrifying, and certainly not something she wanted to listen to when she turned on her radio intending for a bit of light music while she read… but there had always been something about the Radio Demon that had intrigued her even when she’d only known him by reputation.

You see, there was always one thing she’d noticed about him before they had ever even met, which was for all the stories she did hear of him (the cannibalism, sadism, torture and deals) they seemed like nothing compared to the things she had heard of the Overlords he’d destroyed – no, the things they had done had made her sick to her stomach sometimes. For all of the bad things he was, there were certainly more he wasn’t. ‘Having standards’, she’d suppose he’d call it if she ever dared to ask. It was one of the things that made her wonder just why he hadn’t yet gone after the Vees.

She didn’t think he’d answer her questions, so she was surprised when he swallowed the bite he had been chewing and replied softly, “Some, but not all. Most are from my death.”

“Oh?” she winced, now sorry she’d asked at all “I’m sorry, that must have been painful…”

“It was” he agreed, still not looking at her and keeping his gaze on the half-finished apple.

“What happ-“

“Now, now darling, I won't bore you with the tragic and grisly tale of my demise!” he forced a laugh, taking another bite of the sickeningly sweet apple.

Getting the hint this was likely a sensitive topic for him, Charlie did not question further, she turned away from him to fold away the dress she had worn to dinner and place it back into her suitcase.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, and asked “What exactly is this apple anyway? How does it do anything to combat this poison I’m afflicted with?”

Charlie hummed, “Magic, of course!”

“I sense there is more to it than that.”

“Okay, I’ll try explain… essentially, when I grow the fruit I’m pouring a whole lot of my magic into it. The poison in your body is attacking my magic from the apple instead of the magic that is already in your body, but our magic is stronger than most heavenly energy so with enough of it the poison should be purged from your system. At least that’s how Dad explained it to me.”

“I see” he took his last bite of the apple, tossing the core into the bin by the bedside table and forcing himself to swallow again. He asked, “So why do you now just make several for me to eat in one sitting to be rid of the poison?”

Charlie straightened, having dug her toothbrush and paste from her suitcase and holding them in her hand, she looked at him over her shoulder with an expression that told him she wasn’t entirely surprised he asked and explained “several reasons. For one thing, making them requires a lot of power and concentration on my end. Frankly, I’m surprised I’ve managed to make two already without blowing something up, it took me weeks to be able to make even one without setting something on fire. Two, because I don’t know what would happen if we overloaded your system with my magic. And three… I’ve seen your face when you eat them, do you really want to sit and eat half a dozen in one go?”

He did not, he confessed, giving only a shrug in answer and swallowing to try and rid his mouth of the sweet taste as he watched her disappear into the bathroom with her toothbrush. She was in there for all of ten minutes, returning with a fresh clean face and packing her toiletries back up in her bag, he expected her to be ready for bed – so he was intrigued when he noticed the way she was twisting her hands in a way that told him she was nervous.

“Hey, Al’, I – uh – I wanted to maybe ask you something.”

“I believe you asked me many things tonight, but I’ll indulge you in one more my dear.”

“Ah-ha, right… well…” she clenched her hands into fists so she’d stop wringing them and sighed, “Well, you know a lot about magic, don’t you? Like, you’re pretty powerful and all so you’ve got to know something about it, right?”

“I don’t know if I’d say I know a ‘lot’” he hummed, pretending to inspect his nails “and as for ‘powerful’, well…”

“Don’t fish for more compliments, your ego is already large enough” Charlie grumbled, climbing onto the bed behind him and sitting on her knees to poke his shoulder admonishingly. “Even if I hadn’t seen it for myself, the fact that poison didn’t kill you for four damn months while you refused to get help is proof enough how powerful you are, Radio Demon.”

He smirked at her over his shoulder, preening just a little at the words, “You caught me. So, pray tell why are you asking of my magic, and power, darling?”

She shuffled uncomfortably, lifting her knees a little to sit on top of her hands, “I was thinking… about the battle. When I fought Adam it really wasn’t much of a fight – he overpowered me pretty f*cking easily in fact – and I was thinking, maybe…maybe…”

“… my dear, are you perhaps asking if I would teach you how to fight?” he chose his words carefully, keeping his tone entirely neutral.

“I am… and how to use my magic properly.”

He turned a little so he was half facing her, studying her closely as she watched him carefully with a light dusting of red across her face but gaze fixed on him unwaveringly. She was serious.

“One has to wonder just how it is that the princess of hell herself doesn’t know how to use her magic or fight” he mused out loud, tilting his head curiously.

Charlie gave a huff, but she’d expected the question. “Dad and Mom were always a little… wary of what I could do. I’m the first thing like me after all, they didn’t actually know what I could do – neither do I! They shielded me from a lot of things, and if I ever was in a dangerous situation or something, well, Razzle and Dazzle were always there to keep me safe. I think when I got into that fight at Hell School it really rattled them, I didn’t kill anyone sure but… I lost control, so I’m pretty sure the only reason no one was seriously hurt was just sheer dumb luck.”

“You’ve been happy to rely on others to fight your battles until now, what is driving this sudden desire to do it yourself?” he probed further, though it was obvious to anyone why she’d asked. The battle had cost her two friends, the irritating snake demon and her little pet goat.

“Let’s get one thing straight here – I have never been happy to let others fight for me!” she growled, then took a breath to calm herself, “I’ve always fought my own fights, but they were just fights. I’ve never been in a battle before and something tells me this one won’t be the last… how am I supposed to lead my people in battle when I can’t even fight myself?”

It was the look on Lute’s face as she fled that had all but promised her it wouldn’t be the last they’d seen on the exorcists. Whatever was going on in heaven right now, there was zero doubt in Charlie’s mind that the exorcist general would be up there screeching for blood (probably hers) in retribution for Adam’s death.

“Ah,” he nodded, having expected her answer. “And pray tell, why ask me to train you?”

“Because I thought you’d say yes” Charlie sighed, shifting her position to bring her knees up to her chest and rest her chin on them “I thought you’d understand why I want to learn, and I know you’re skilled both fighting and at magic. Besides, I just hinted at learning to fight and my father laughed and, well, I could as Vaggie but she’s always been weird about fighting my battles for me rather than with me…”

So, the princess doesn’t want to be coddled anymore, how exciting. Alastor pretended to consider her for a few moments, keeping his smile completely neutral so as to not let her guess his thoughts. He couldn’t help going over what Nifty had told him of the battle after he’d been forced to retreat, specifically her descriptions of Charlie, ones that until tonight he’d thought to be exaggerations. Yet, already tonight Charlie had confirmed not only that she indeed had a transformation with a tail (yes, he was somewhat curious about that considering she had now seen his) but that she had indeed fought Adam, though from how she described it she had lost that fight, so there was still one part of Nifty’s story that needed clearing up…

“Before I make my decision, my dear, will you answer me a question?”

“Of course!”

“Nifty informed me that during the battle you somehow managed to single-handedly block an attack from Adam, is that true?”

She blinked, apparently caught off guard by his question, but nodded slowly “I did… he tried to attack my father from behind and I caught his blow, I don’t know how – I just… I saw him coming and I panicked, I was scared he was going to kill my dad, and I was angry he’d be so cowardly as to attack when he wasn’t looking and I just… I just did it.”

His smile stretched. He couldn’t help it. From the way she described it, she hadn’t even been trying to catch Adam’s blow, but she’d done effortlessly it anyway. It would seem the little princess was far more powerful than he’d ever dreamed. He could use that.

Still, he couldn’t help but tease a little “You know, sweetheart, the terms of our deal were that I could ask you a favour, not the other way around.”

“I mean, you could always look at it as me doing you a favour letting you teach me?” she retorted, a tiny bit of hope in her tone, “does that mean you’ll do it? You’ll teach me?”

“Hmm” he hummed, then shrugged (wincing slightly when the move pulled at the stitches across his chest) “Fine, I’ll do it. On the condition that you understand, I will teach you the best way I see fit. I won't play nice with you, Charlotte. I will hurt you, and I will expect you to hurt me in turn. We are training to fight for your life after all, there can be no room for mercy here.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to learn how to kill anyone!”

“No, perhaps not, but just because you don’t want to kill your enemies doesn’t mean they will offer you the same mercy, my dear.”

She pursed her lips at that, knowing full well he was correct. She sighed “fine. But… maybe let’s wait until you're fully healed to start.”

“Oh, I was thinking the same thing, do not worry about that” he chuckled, rubbing his chest lightly.

“Are you going to make us shake on it? A deal?” she raised her eyebrow.

“Not necessary, sweetheart. The conviction with which you made your argument has convinced me you won't be backing out of this idea anytime soon, and besides I would never be one to force a lady to arms should you change your mind.”

He didn’t see the hug coming, though he really should have, her arms thrown around his shoulders as she gave a brief squeeze – the flowery scent of her shampoo briefly filling his nose- and let go all before he could register what the f*ck had just happened.

“Thanks, Al’, you really are the best!” she grinned.

“You flatter me, my dear” he laughed quietly.

She laughed as well, climbing off the bed to retrieve her notebooks from the table by the fireplace where she’d left them earlier. Her brainstorming therapy ideas had been rather derailed when she’d been caught up in thoughts about… well… him. Perhaps now she knew where he was, safe and sound, she might get a little more work done before bed. Alastor saw her pick up the notebooks, he knew what they were from how often he'd seen her working on them in their shared office, but decided instead to make himself comfortable on the bed where he was and picked up the random book resting on the nightstand and giving it a cursory read.

It wasn’t long before she spoke up again, which was to be expected, she never was one for silent spaces for very long – always talking, humming or singing under her breath. It's like she was afraid of the quiet!

Her gaze had kept being drawn to the chair he’d been sitting in when she returned from her dinner, noticing the damp stains that still lingered in the fabric. “Hey Al’, I know I already asked you for one big favour tonight but would you hate me if I asked for another?”

“Hate would be a strong word” he resisted a yawn but dropped his book enough to look at her over the top of it. she wasn’t looking at him, however. She was chewing on the tops of one of her ridiculously bright gel pens and staring unblinkingly at the chair he’d passed out in earlier. “But I’ll entertain you asking, so go ahead and ask.”

She swallowed, hesitating a moment, but finally, she asked “Could you… could you maybe not go hunting in the swamp again, a-at least until you are fully recovered?”

Now that was not a request he expected. My, my, she certainly was full of surprises tonight. Dropping the book to his chest to look at her openly now, he frowned “Why not?”

“… never mind, it was a dumb thing to ask.”

“Now, my dear, I never said I wouldn’t agree I simply wondered why you would bother to ask.”

She removed the pen from her mouth, glancing at him fleetingly before staring at her page again, giving it a few taps with the pen she’d just been chewing on. He waited patiently for her to speak again.

“You’re not at full strength yet. If you keep using your magic you’ll keep draining yourself again and again and the poison will stay in your system.”

“A roundabout way of telling me I am weakened, but I’ll forgive you. Do go on, darling.”

She winced at the irritation in his tone, but pressed on “You’ve got enemies here, right? Vox? I saw the way he looked at you that first night. Can you promise me that he wouldn’t attack you if he found you weakened?”

He didn’t expect that either and openly gaped as she held his gaze this time.

Swallowing, he tried to tease “Why, my dear, it almost sounds as If you're worried about little old me, haha!”

“I am.”

Well, that cut his laughter short.

“Oh,” he held her stare a moment, feeling his face grow warm (seriously, what was with that tonight?!) before he picked up the book once more to hide his face from her. “I suppose… if it will put your mind at ease, I can resist.”

“Thank you. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

“Not at all, my dear.”

Charlie couldn’t help but hum contently that he’d agreed, feeling like the last tiny weight that had been weighing on her tonight had been lifted by his words. Honestly, she’d been thinking about that while he had showered, not at all believing him when he’d claimed to have decided to have a nap in his filthy wet clothes of all things. No, that wasn’t very him at all. If anything it seemed like he’d passed out, and considering the poison’s reclaim on him it wasn’t hard to guess he’d exhausted himself. What if he hadn’t gotten back to the safety of the room on time? What if someone like Vox had caught up with him out there, would he have had the power left to fight? Oh, he’d be on death's door no doubt and still fight, but would he have been able to win? To survive?

She wasn’t starting to think he had a death wish, waiting four months with that poison in his body to get help then immediately charging off like nothing ever happened the very next day. It didn’t sit well with her at all.

Time passed and the only sound for a while was the crackle of the fireplace and the scratch of her pen against the paper, though half the time she felt like she was just crossing ideas out rather than coming up with good ones. It wasn’t too long before she decided to throw in the towel for the night, standing up and stretching to crack her back from the way she had been curled up.

Charlie glanced towards the bed and grinned when she realised Alastor had fallen asleep already, the book he’d been reading still open on his chest as if he’d drifted off mid-page. He probably had. With a gentle huff of laughter, she came over, removing the book from him and placing it on the bedside table, still open on the page he’d been reading in case he wanted to come back to it later.

She debated sleeping on the sofa, that had been the original idea after all, but she knew from sitting on it all afternoon that it wasn’t all that comfortable – besides, the bed was plenty large, and they’d technically shared in the night before already… and this was Alastor. He wasn’t about to start being all inappropriate with her in bed of all things.

Charlie climbed into the bed on the other side, though she lifted the blanket enough to be sure he was tucked up nice and comfortably too, stifling a giggle with her hand when he let out an adorable noise and turned to snuggle deeper into his pillow, ear twitching. It was perhaps a little odd that he remained smiling even when he slept, but honestly, she couldn’t imagine his face looking any different. She snuggled beneath the covers herself, making sure to keep a respectable amount of space between them, and gave a snap of her fingers to extinguish the lights.

XXXXXX

Striker ran the stone over the blade of his knife sending sparks into the air and smirked when a couple of shark demons eyed him warily from the other side of the yard. The blade was sharp enough by now, had been for a while, but he so did love the look of fear in their eyes every time he did it…

Besides, this was far more entertaining than the f*cking bullsh*t job Crimson had given him – kidnapping the Goeita princess, what kind of mediocre sh*t was that?! He was an assassin, arguably the best one this side of Wrath if he had to brag, and they had him kidnapping little girls! Bullsh*t!

Of course, that also meant it was easy. Considering he needed to rebuild his holy weapons arsenal – and lately, they had become few and far between on the black market which made them even more expensive – he wasn’t about to turn down easy money.

Besides, he wasn’t stupid. He knew Crimson was going to try and milk this situation for all it was worth, considering that uptight Goeita bitch and her brother had somehow managed to get a few of his goons hired at this fancy ass Lodge they were all staying at giving them easy access in and out of the place. Striker couldn’t be one of them of course, too much of a risk that blue-blood owl prince would recognise him after all. Which was why he was splitting his time, spending half of it stalking the Lodge and learning its layout with some of the goons reporting back to him the movements of his target so he could decide the best time to strike, and lurking around Crimson’s place hoping to learn just what else the mob boss had planned…

… and it looked like his patience was about to be paid off.

It was no coincidence he’d taken a seat on the stone wall beside the window below Crimson’s office. Mob boss still didn’t trust him wholly yet (probably the smartest decision the other imp had ever made honestly) so he had to be careful to keep out of his sight. He spotted two shark demons in Butler uniforms – clearly the ones from the Lodge – come running through the front gate, no doubt going straight to their boss's office. Striker smirked, putting down his knife and stone and he leaned back against the bench, pulling his hat low over his face and keeping his breathing steady. To anyone who looked, he’d probably seem like he was asleep.

“Sir, sir!” he heard the panting demons burst into the office above him.

“For the love of f*ck – what!?” Crimson growled.

“You – uh – y-you asked us to report back, about the princess?”

“Ah, yes” Crimson sounded far more relaxed now. “So what do you have to tell me?”

For a moment Striker thought Crimson was double-crossing him, having his own goons working on taking his target as well as putting him on the job, his tail rattling in annoyance. He continued to eavesdrop.

“W-Well, the princess Morningstar seems to favour the company of the Sins – usually the ones of Sloth, Gluttony and Lust – and is friendly with the Goeita’s, sir” one demon squeaked his response.

“But-“ a deeper voice spoke “-seems to spend a fair amount of her time alone, it seems that sinner Overlord she came with isn’t the bodyguard we first expected. I observed him spending most of the day apart from her.”

“-but she still has the goat-demon as a bodyguard most of the time-“

“-and appears to have spelled the door of her room so none can enter, so taking her from her bed won't work-“

“ – stop” Crimson commanded, both the reporting shark demons not making another peep, there was a pause (Striker would best money he was doing that thing where he steepled his fingers and tried to look intimidating). He continued after a few seconds of silence, “So Lucifer’s little brat is here unescorted and flouncing around all on her lonesome. Excellent. We can use that!”

Striker rolled his eyes and stood, putting his knife back in his belt and stalking away from the window. He’d heard enough to guess Crimson was planning on stealing the devil's daughter. He couldn’t help but chuckle just a little, not at all surprised the greedy mob boss would think this a good idea – though it did give him an idea. After all, whatever Crimson planned was likely to blow up in his face, and he could use a good distraction when he made his move for the Goeita girl…

Chapter 7: We have got to stop waking up like this...

Chapter Text

When he was a child Alastor could never say he’d felt all that safe even in his own home. To him, that’s just how it was, always looking over your shoulder for the next person out to spite you. Not that he could always anticipate where the next danger might come from, they lived in a particularly rough area at the time, with most worse off than he and his mother were. It was one of the reasons she was so generous with the things they did have, prepared to help where she could, and held no grudges when others simply took what they needed from her. She told him she understood desperate people doing desperate things to make ends meet.

Still, there were nights when his mother left him home alone and he’d not be able to sleep because of the sounds of the neighbours fighting – or even worse during the times of prohibition when he was very small and smugglers would try to sneak alcohol through his neighbourhood often starting fights with rival gangs that more often than not ended in gun fare! More than once it was sheer dumb luck that stray bullets missed his bed when they came through the bedroom walls.

On those nights he wouldn’t sleep at all, not until he heard his mother return home shortly before dawn. Even then, he would wait a little while for her to clean herself up and eat, before he ventured from his bed to climb into hers. He would curl into her side and finally drift off, a foolish little boy’s belief that nothing could harm him when his mother was around.

Yet, when he woke that morning, he could not deny the sense of contentment that paled in comparison to those times he snuck into his mother's bed. It was soft and warm, a sweet-spicy scent that was growing increasingly familiar to him filling his nose, the gentle rhythmic beat something lulling him back to sleep…

He hummed, turning his face into the pillow and snuggling closer, only for his eyes to snap open when his pillow squeaked. He jerked his head up, causing a weight he hadn’t noticed on his head to slide and catch against his ear which flickered at the sensation, only to meet the equally startled gaze of hell’s princess.

Charlie was laid on her back beneath him, eyes wide as saucers, with one of her hands apparently buried in his hair while the other was tucked under the pillow she had her head rested on. She was lying on the pillows. It seemed that what he had been snuggling into - what he’d thought was a pillow - had actually turned out to be her chest, with his arms wrapped tight around her torso keeping her firmly in place. Mortified, he felt himself freeze, his claws flexing involuntarily which she must have felt even through her cotton pyjamas as she flinched just slightly, pink dusting her cheeks, she swallowed hard but never took her gaze off his.

He was panicking. Charlie could see it on his face, having never quite seen his eyes so wide, his smile strained, and the tight grip of his clawed fingers against her back. While she agreed this was very, very, weird, she knew that if she didn’t do something to ease the tension then she’d likely be looking at yet another day of him avoiding her like the plague.

“I-I thought you were Razzle!”

His ear twitched, brushing ever so slightly against her claws with the movement, but he ignored the sensation in favour of analysing what she’d said. She’d mistaken him for the goat? It would explain why she seemed too relaxed considering the position. Her tone wasn’t angry, or upset, merely husky and laced with sleep, and she was no longer staring at him with impossibly wide eyes.

Still, he swallowed “my deepest apologies, my dear-“

“-I’m not mad, Al” Charlie was quick to interrupt, tilting her head as she considered him. She wondered if he was even aware that he’d just spoken without his usual namesake voice filter, letting her hear his true voice, and while she enjoyed his filtered voice (it was quirky and unusual) she wouldn’t mind hearing his real voice more often.

“Ah.”

He still hadn’t moved. He didn’t know how he should move (roll away? Spring back?) and besides, she was still watching him with her gaze oddly assessing. Just what was she watching him for?

“You know, I’m impressed you haven’t run away yet” Charlie decided to tease, scratching her fingers that remained buried in his fur-like hair experimentally against his scalp. She couldn’t resist the smile pulling at her lips when he tilted his head towards her touch, she wasn’t even sure he was aware he did it considering the affronted look on his face at her words.

“The Radio Demon does not ‘run away’ from anything!” he growled, his claws flexing against her back again as his grip on her tightened and he made sure his best, creepiest, grin was in place on his lips.

Considering the proximity, and the way he was lying on top of her, by all rights Charlie should have been terrified. Or at the very least, nervous. He frowned when she let out a giggle.

“Of course not,” she snickered beneath him, still smiling.

He was confused for a moment before her claws scraped the base of his ear and he had to press his lips together to suppress a groan. As it was, he was unable to resist the way his body relaxed against her, so focused on not allowing the noise to escape. She was so soft beneath him, and warm, though she always ran several degrees hotter than the rest of them he noticed. He felt his face burn when she chuckled again at his involuntary reaction, head tilted and pressing further into her petting.

Okay, that was enough. Alastor forced himself up, removing his arms from beneath her and ignoring the sharp intake of breath she took as his claws scraped against her when he moved, until he was sat at the side of the bed and staunchly refusing to look back at her, worried that whatever spell seemed to have overtaken them would be cast again and draw him back into her arms.

Behind him, Charlie sat up herself, stretching her arms and giving a little hum when her bones cracked. Still, he did not so much as glance over his shoulder at her, sitting rigidly at the side of the bed, she raised an eyebrow at his stiff posture and almost rolled her eyes.

“Al’ seriously, don’t worry about it. We were asleep, and there’s nothing wrong with some cuddling between friends.”

Oh, that made him turn around. The red-haired demon turned his head just enough to glare at her, “I do not cuddle.”

The princess raised an eyebrow, her gaze drifting to something just over his shoulder. He kept glaring at her until her averted gaze – and growing smirk – bothered him, jerking his head around just in time to catch the way his Shadow cast on the wall had been shaking its head, though it quickly froze when it noticed his attention on it. He glared at the damn thing, ears flattening against his head, while Charlie laughed behind him.

“It would seem your shadow disagrees,” she said, drawing his glare again, but the princess did not falter under the crimson stare that had so many other demons shaking in their boots. Rather, she gave him a coy smile and kept her tone light and teasing, “Don’t worry, I won't tell anyone.”

Thrown off-kilter by her nonchalant reaction and teasing responses, Alastor had no idea how to respond and merely turned away once more to glare at the wall ahead. If he had been told before they took this trip that he would wake up with his face snuggled up to the princess (with his face in her damn chest of all places) while she acted like this was completely normal on their second morning he’d have laughed in their face and possibly slaughtered them for good measure.

Charlie began to shuffle behind him, sliding off the other side of the large bed, she grabbed her things from her suitcase and made her way into the bathroom. Only when she was on the other side of the door did she allow herself to let out a sigh, run a hand through her wild hair (how it always managed to break out of her ponytail when she slept she had no idea) and set about getting ready for the day.

Oh, she wasn’t unaffected by what had happened this morning, though she’d been completely honest when she’d told him she thought he was Razzle. Half asleep as she was when she became aware of the heavy weight on top of her, her hand reaching down to find soft fur, she could be forgiven for believing it was her usual cuddling companion had been lying on her chest and not the usually touch-phobic deer demon, right? She’d realised it wasn’t Razzle when she’d felt a face snuggling between her breasts and a warm puff of breath even through her cotton pyjama top. Her eyes had flown open, greeted with the scarlet head of hair and antlered head of a very familiar demon…

… and she couldn’t lie, she’d felt something of a thrill down her spine to see him snuggled up to her like that, to feel him holding her as close as he physically could, her heart pounding so loud there was no chance he’d not heard it with his head against her chest like that. The squeak she’d let out had been involuntary, and she’d watched as his amazingly expressive eyes had switched from surprise, to shock, and finally to horror. He’d gone rigid over her, claws flexing against her skin and causing a whole other kind of shiver down her spine. He’d looked at her like he expected her to launch him out of the window, or was possibly considering launching himself out of one to get away.

Was it really so bad, waking up with her like that? Charlie didn’t think so, but then again maybe she was a bit biased. She knew she was pretty, especially when she actually tried, though she was nowhere near the beauty of her mother. Then again, given who they were respectively – the bloodthirsty radio demon with scores of souls under his belt, and her the airhead princess of hell with dreams of heaven – maybe his disgust was understandable.

Shaking her head Charlie decided to push those thoughts out of her mind. What did it matter in the end anyway? It didn’t! This was just Bee and Ozzie putting ideas in her head yesterday. Sighing once more, she gave herself a bright encouraging smile in the mirror and exited the bathroom half expecting him to have fled the room by now.

She was pleasantly surprised to find him sitting in the high back chair he’d come to favour, fully dressed in his usual suit, and a thoughtful expression on his smiling face as he gazed unblinkingly at nothing in particular. He didn’t even seem to have noticed her entrance.

“Al’?”

He started a bit, but looked at her after blinking a few times, “Yes, my dear?”

“How are you feeling this morning?” she noticed his eyes narrow a bit and specified “Do you want another apple, it might help stave off the poison for the rest of the day? Or we can do another tonight. Or both, maybe?”

“Hmm” he looked away from her, thinking for a moment, “I do feel stronger than last night, but not as well as I did yesterday morning. Perhaps another is in order if you are willing to oblige?”

Charlie gave him a grin and grabbed one of the apples out of the fruit bowl still sitting on the drawers where she had left it the night before, wasting no time as she broke it open to dig out another seed. Alastor couldn’t help but let his eyes be drawn to her when she started pouring her magic into the tiny seed, the silver apple growing within her palm. He could practically feel her magic from where he sat, warm and wild, it struggled against her as she directed it into the seed. With power like that just coiled in her, waiting to break free, it was a wonder she had not harmed herself (or anyone else) if – as she claimed – her parents had never shown her more than the basics for controlling it.

She looked proud as punch when she handed him the apple, which he thanked her for, eating it quickly so as not to prolong the revolting sweetness on his tongue. The princess puttered around the room while he did, seemingly unable to sit still and quiet as usual, he was aware of her watching him from the corner of her eye – enough so that the moment he was finished with the apple, she asked: “are you ready to go downstairs?”

“Hmm, I can see no reason to put off the inevitable much longer” he stood, brushing invisible dust from his pants “Though I have half a mind to find something far better to do with my time here, yesterday’s meeting was tedious enough I thought it might just kill me again!”

Charlie wrinkled her nose, “I wish I could tell you it gets better, but honestly, I’m a terrible liar.”

“Well then, my dear, might I suggest you never play poker with our dear Husker?”

She chuckled at his joking, feeling a little bit of that continued worry that he’d suddenly start avoiding her again begin to ebb, though it didn’t fade completely. There was still a strange, almost distant, look in his eye – not to mention the fact he seemed to be avoiding meeting her gaze at all if he could help it. Charlie sighed, not sure what else she could do to ease what was hopefully just his embarrassment from how they woke up this morning and thanked him when he held the door to their room open for her and Razzle to pass through.

He fell into step beside her in the hall without a word, his usual smile in place, and she couldn’t help but feel far too aware of him next to her. He was keeping his distance, considering he normally walked close enough to bump against her, but right now an entire other person could have walked between them…

A dark shape moved on the wall. His shadow waved beside them to get his attention, miming something with a flap of its hands that meant nothing to her but apparently, he understood.

“Ah, it would seem I am required elsewhere for a moment. Do go on ahead to breakfast, my dear!”

“Huh?” Charlie tilted her head, “are you sure, I can wait-?”

“No, no, no! I wouldn’t make you wait for me in these dreary halls. Go on ahead, I’ll meet you down there sweetheart.”

“Right…” she sighed, looking away “I’ll see you downstairs then?”

He frowned a little, hearing the shift in her tone. He could have sworn she sounded almost disappointed, though he couldn’t fathom as to why.

“You will.” He answered, just loud enough for her to hear even though she was several steps away by now.

Charlie heard him, looking over her shoulder at his questioning look, she gave him a slight nod and continued on her way downstairs. He’d looked sincere, yet she couldn’t help thinking that whatever errand he needed to run (just what was it he needed to do anyway?) was nothing more than an excuse to get away from her. Not that he couldn’t have space, obviously, she’d had her time to process this morning when she was getting ready in the bathroom, maybe that was all he was doing? Rubbing her temples as she finally made it to the ground floor, Charlie sighed. She really needed to stop overthinking this or she was going to get a headache before this meeting even started…

She was so oblivious to what was going on around her that she hardly noticed the two demons approaching her until they spoke.

“Ahhh, if it isn't the Princesa.”

His voice alone made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, still, Charlie maintained a polite smile as she turned and faced Valentino and Vox.

“Mr Valentino, Mr Vox, good morning!”

“Princess Morningstar” Vox cleared his throat politely, taking one of her hands and lifting it to his screen to kiss (or more like a bump) her knuckles. Charlie fought to keep a neutral expression at the action, though her gaze flickered to Valentino upon remembering how the pimp's hand licked up her arm, she figured it could have been much worse. “I can't tell you how relieved we are to run into you this fine morning!”

“O-oh?” she pulled her hand back sharply.

“Yes, you see, my partners – the Vees, I’m sure you’ve heard of us – and I, well, we are rather concerned.”

“Concerned?” she was genuinely confused now, tilting her head “concerned about what?”

“Well, rumour has it you’ve taken on the Radio Demon as a business partner!” Vox gave a forced laugh, leaning against an unimpressed Valentino in his false mirth, he pretended to remove a tear from his eye as he continued, “But that would just be ridiculous, right? You’re smarter than that, right princess?!”

“Um… it’s not a rumour. Alastor is my business partner.” She chose to brush past the fact he obviously knew this was more than just a rumour, considering he’d already attempted to spy on the hotel.

“Why, Princessa, has no one thought you warn you of the danger?” Valentino spoke, even attempting to throw an arm over her shoulders that she deftly sidestepped to avoid.

“I can assure you I am more than aware-“

“-you can't trust him” Vox interrupted her, tone more heated as he clenched his fists at his sides, “he’s a dealmaker, princess. You might not see it at first, it’ll start with small inconsequential things, and before you know it he’ll own your soul. Don’t believe me? Ask that stupid f*cking cat he keeps around!”

Charlie frowned, thinking of their current deal.

Valentino sighed, “Forgive his temper, Princessa, he can get rather… emotional when it comes to the Radio Demon.”

Vox glared at the moth demon, but schooled his expression to something more amenable when he turned back to her, “Yes. Pardon the outburst. My partner is right, this is something of a sore subject for me. You see, I know first-hand what it feels like when Alastor stabs you in the back – I’d hate to see it happen to someone as lovely as you.”

Of course, she’d heard of the longstanding feud between the Radio and Television demons. Husk had been all too happy to fill them in on it when they’d first moved into the hotel, though, not even the barman knew what started it. To say Charlie was burning with curiosity was an understatement, though she suspected that whatever she found out from Vox would be rather biased. For all his faults, Alastor hadn’t yet told her an actual lie – though he certainly knew how to dance around the truth like a pro…

“You know,” Vox continued when she didn’t respond, leaning closer “it wouldn’t be unwise to have some powerful allies in your back pocket when he betrays you too, Princess.”

She raised both her eyebrows, “Vox, are you suggesting that the Vee’s would be interested in allying themselves with my hotel?”

“Well, now, that might be a bit-“

“-because I seem to recall you sending Sir Pentious as a spy not too long ago, and I might not be the most experienced businesswoman out there, but I don’t believe that is a good way to begin a working relationship with anyone.”

“Not a spy! Not on you, or your hotel, at least!” the television demon hurried to explain, tugging on his tie “only on him. Only on the radio demon. You don’t understand, he’s dangerous! I needed to try and find out what his game was!”

“His game is helping with my hotel” Charlie folded her arms “and I’m plenty dangerous myself, thank you, should Alastor decide to be a problem I can handle him.”

The two men looked down at her with blank expressions before they glanced at one another and pursed their lips, clearly trying to suppress their laughter. At her feet, Razzle growled at them. Before either of the Vee’s could say something, however, their attention was captured by the growing – and very familiar – shadow behind her, towering menacingly at her back.

“Are we interrupting?” a cool voice cut across anything they had been about to say. Both Vox and Valentino appeared to startle, the three of them turning to see Carmilla Carmine stalking towards them with Zestial by her side. The arms dealer’s gaze flickered to Charlie briefly (noticing the shrinking shadow on the wall behind her) before her cold stare landed once more on the two males.

“Not at all,” Valentino was the first to recover, though he leered at Carmilla as he did anyone else, he apparently had the sense to steer clear and grabbed Vox by the arm and began to drag him away, “we were just leaving. Enjoy your breakfast, Princessa!”

Charlie huffed at their backs but finally let her arms drop to her sides again, rather relieved for the interruption – she wasn’t quite sure how much longer she could have continued talking and kept her composure with the mood she was in.

“Are thou alright princess?” Zestial asked, now towering beside her.

“I am, thank you for the interruption.”

“'Twereour pleasure, I am sure. O'er and beyond, I doubt Alastor had been entertained to hark of 'em encroaching on his territory thus so.”

Charlie frowned at his implication, but her attention was stolen by Carmilla as she added, “Furthermore, the Vees are not the kind of demons one with your ideals would wish to be falling in with.”

“I’m familiar with how bad they are” Charlie grumbled, thinking back on her visit to Valentino’s studio, and Angel’s terrified face. She wasn’t stupid, she knew Valentino didn’t treat him – or likely any of the demons he employed – well, and had already decided something needed to be done about it. She just wasn’t sure what. This was hell, after all, if she started preaching for regulations to the p*rn industry they might just laugh harder than when she did it for redemption. Plus there was the added factor that Valentino owned Angel’s soul – she didn’t want to risk a move against him that would put Angel in a worse position if she could help it. Sadly any ideas she had were put on the backburner when all this mess with heaven started anyway.

Which reminded her.

“Oh, Mrs Carmine! I never got a chance to personally thank you for your help supplying weapons when we fought heaven. Thank you!”

Carmilla blinked, exchanging a look with Zestial, whose expression never changed, before giving Charlie what was quite possibly a smile. “I accept your thanks, Princess, but perhaps it is not wise to discuss what happened at your hotel so openly here.”

“Why not?” the princess puzzled.

Again the two overlords exchanged a look, apparently communicating on some level Charlie wasn’t privy to, before they looked at her again.

“Have you not been listening to the whispers?” Carmilla questioned quietly, glancing surreptitiously at the demons around them “It would seem that many of the hellborn demons here are not pleased with the battle that took place against the exterminators.”

Charlie frowned, now glancing around the room herself and half expecting to find demons opening glaring, but found no one even glancing in their direction. She had heard no such whispers, but she thought it odd that no one had mentioned the battle to her. She’d thought it would be big news… if demons were really upset, perhaps that was why they never mentioned anything in her presence?

“Haply thou desire to join us for breakfast? Lest moe Vee's bother thou ere Alastor returns to thy side,” Zestial offered, seeing her troubled expression. Carmilla was mildly surprised by the invite but did not speak against it either. She had nothing against the Morningstar princess after all.

“Oh!” Charlie realised he had invited her to eat breakfast with them and nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, thank you, I would enjoy that.”

The princess followed the two overlords into the hall, imps already busy taking meal orders for the royalty that was there, and ignored the new feeling that every eye in the room had turned to glare at her.

XXXXXX

Alastor waited in the hallway until he could no longer see nor hear Charlie’s footsteps as she headed downstairs without him. He released the breath he held, sent a silent thank you to his shadow for the convenient reason of separating them, and then sent it to watch over her while he made his way to Rosie’s room.

There was no better person he could think of to help him figure out the confusing mix of emotions this morning's events had left him with.

Finding her assigned room, Alastor rapped on the door with a knuckle and waited, pleased when she answered in a timely manner. The demoness was clearly surprised to see him, but it didn’t last long as she said, “Oh my, Alastor, good morning! Come in, come in! Care for some breakfast? I have something you can really sink your teeth into!”

She ushered him into the room, indicating with a nod of her head towards the small table set up with what was clearly demon meat on a few plates. It seemed Rosie was being considerate enough of her fellow demons to keep her meal preferences to the privacy of her room.

“Not this time, my dear, thank you though” he refused, though it was tempting considering the lingering sweetness of the silver apple still on his lips, but with his stomach apparently attempting somersaults he wasn’t certain he could stomach anything else quite yet.

Rosie, sensing the urgency in his tone and never knowing him to have passed on a bite to eat before now, simply nodded her head and poured him a cup of coffee that she handed to him silently as she took her seat and indicated for him to sit opposite. “Colour me intrigued, so tell me, what has you so hot and bothered this early in the morning?”

Coming to Rosie had seemed simple, and yet, now that he was here he wasn’t entirely certain where to start explaining. He wasn’t even sure what he was explaining! He hesitated, and Rosie watched in awe as the man who spoke for a living, appeared to be tongue-tied.

“It would appear that I have a-a problem,” he finally began, the words finally flowing from his lips “one that I trust your judgement on, and your discretion.”

“Of course, Alastor, whatever you say will be held with utmost confidence” she assured, “now get on with it, I’m practically dizzy with the suspense!”

He grimaced but explained in very brief and with as little detail as possible to her how Charlie was helping him with a rather personal matter, her continued demonstrations and honest words regarding her trust and (to his amazement) genuine concern for him. He ended by admitting his own apparently growing trust for the princess, and begrudgingly admitted to waking up two days in a row clasped against her (he refused to use the word ‘cuddled’ as Charlie had) and reluctant to leave her arms.

Rosie listened in silence, though by the end her mouth was agape and her raised teacup had cooled significantly before she even got a sip. When it was clear he was finished speaking she set the cup back down on its saucer and continued to just stare at him for a moment longer.

“I came for advice, Rosie, if I wished to be gawked at I’d have gone to Husker or Nifty!” Alastor snapped after a few moments of prolonged silence, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Well, how did it make you feel?” she asked point-blank after clearing her throat.

“Which part?”

“All of it. Let’s break it down. How do you feel about her trusting you?”

He thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on the table by her plate, he answered “It pleases me.”

“I need a little more than that, Al’”

He huffed, ear twitching, and glared, “Fine. When I realised she held trust in me only a few months ago I thought her naïve and foolish. In a way, I still believe it, though perhaps the word ‘hopeful’ is more accurate, and she is no more a fool than you or I. But I am pleased she trusts me – it makes influencing her much easier!”

“If that was all you cared about, Alastor, you wouldn’t be here asking my advice” Rosie snorted, sipping her lukewarm tea and watching him over the rim of her cup, “I’ve known you a few centuries, and even when you are knowingly manipulating the affections of others I’ve never known you to show even an ounce of the concern you’ve shown that girl!”

He laid his ears against his head and looked away, glaring at the carpet as he felt his face burn. He knew it was true, but it had been easier to deny in his head until she said it out loud like that.

Rosie noticed, but chose not to comment just yet – instead, she asked “And when you realised she was genuinely concerned about you, how did you feel then?”

His ears stood back up, expression turning soft as it betrayed his answer ahead of his words. “I felt… touched. I can't remember the last time a person, let alone a demon, showed me genuine concern since my own mother! Not to mention one brave enough to force me to accept that care, even if I did not want to.”

Rosie couldn’t suppress her chuckle at this, only able to imagine the fight Charlie had on her hands to force him to accept a little TLC. Was it selfish of her to admit she was glad it had been Charlie and not herself who needed to have that argument with him?

“And what of waking in her arms, Alastor? How did you feel about that?” she asked, trying not to let it be known in her tone that this was the question she was most curious about.

He went silent, for this was what troubled him the most. While most thought otherwise, Alastor was no stranger to his carnal desires they had never really been something he enjoyed, even when he was alive. He’d participated when the opportunity presented itself, he had been a red-blooded young man once after all, and he was most curious as to why so many seemed obsessed with sex. Yet, the few times he’d indulged, he’d himself disappointingly bored with the whole thing! Yes, it had felt nice he supposed, but hadn’t been anything to write home about in his opinion. Besides, he wasn’t terribly fond of being touched by others, and the only interest he had in touching others was the joy of seeing how uncomfortable he could make them! To sum up, intimacy of that level simply wasn’t of interest to him.

Or so he thought, considering Charlie seemed to have come along and completely smashed through his defences on the matter, he had always been physically aware of her more so than anyone else. At first, he’d simply assumed it was because of who she was. If she entered a room he was in, he knew immediately, and he knew when she left again without looking. He knew he stood closer to her than he would others (she’d give him a glance if she noticed, but never told him to stop) and he found just about any excuse to invade her personal space either by dragging her into an impromptu dance, throwing an arm over her shoulder as he dragged her where he needed her to be, he had once even picked her up to physically move her out of the way when he needed to get by her once. He’d not thought anything of his actions at the time, simply delighted in her surprised squeak and red face after the fact, but now he wondered why he’d done it when he could have simply slipped into shadow and appeared where he needed to be without laying a finger on her.

Perhaps if it was just her physical presence he noticed then he could have continued to ignore it, but it was just… her. Innocent little idiosyncrasies that were just so Charlie. Her remarkable enthusiasm for just about everything she did, the way her doll-like face played every emotion she felt when she was reading, and her habit of humming under her breath when she was deep in thought. She had a sly sense of humour, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and a laugh like a, well, an angel. Laughing Charlie was probably his favourite, sometimes finding himself saying or doing ridiculous things just to hear it, his own embarrassment be damned. The princess of hell knew who and what he was, and yet she never treated him with anything but unconditional kindness, even on the occasions when he was harsh to her.

When he thought back on this morning, or the morning before, he could feel the ghost of her clawed fingers against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. He now knows exactly how it feels to have her warm soft body beneath his own, moulded against him like she was supposed to be there, the mere memory enough to make his blood boil again. Like a moth to a flame, he wanted – no, he needed – more, and that terrified him.

“I-“ Alastor cleared his throat, well aware Rosie was waiting patiently for his answer, though no doubt she had studied his expression as he thought he could only hope none of his thoughts had made it to his face. “I… I enjoyed it.”

“You did?” Rosie resisted a smirk, feigning innocent curiosity “Would you want it to happen again?”

“I… I suppose I would not mind it terribly if it did.”

Rosie almost squealed with delight but swallowed the reaction due to the utterly confused expression on the fearsome deer demon’s face. Poor man. It was clear he’d never had to deal with such emotions (pesky little things that he thought they were) before, it was almost interesting to watch him struggle. A good thing she wasn’t such a sad*st that she’d leave him to flounder without guidance. Of course, it would be difficult, Rosie was under no illusions that Alastor wasn’t being entirely forthcoming with his reasons as to why he’d decided to help the little princess out with her hotel in the first place but if she had to hazard a guess she’d assume there was some scheme behind it.

Pursing her lips, Rosie decided to put him out of his misery and explained “Well Al’, if you ask me, it sounds as if you are beginning to develop feelings for her, possibly even some attraction, am I right?”

“Don’t be absurd!” he denied her suggestion automatically, shaking his head hard enough to make his ears move, and giving a barking laugh.

“No, no, don’t you do that- you came to me for advice, so let's not play this game where you tell me what is wrong and I give you an answer I’m fairly certain you already knew only so that you can deny it as someone else’s silly thought,” Rosie told him sternly, pointing her finger. He clearly didn’t expect to be called out like that, looking very much like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar for a moment before returning to his scowl.

“Fine” he grumbled “I won’t reject the notion as entirely idiotic just yet. So, what would you suggest I do?”

“I like to think that in the many decades we have been friends, Alastor, that I have come to know you rather well – enough for me to assume that there is a more underhanded reason for your presence at the princess’s hotel other than simple boredom,” Rosie said, watching him carefully, “I am not one to meddle with your schemes as well you know, however, just this once… you might consider placing whatever you're planning on the back burner and perhaps explore this new experience a bit. You might find that in the end, no schemes are needed to get whatever it is you want from her.”

“You think” Alastor laughed incredulously, though there was no humour to the sound “that the princess will just act as my little pet because I… because I engaged in some- some cuddling with her?!”

Rosie let him laugh, momentarily distracted at the thought of him cuddling anyone (she would pay to see that!) before she rolled her eyes and replied, “I would think you should know the difference in power that comes from a willing ally to one forced to do your bidding, Al’. Cuddling aside, just think about it. The princess is just one of the three most powerful beings in Hell – with the other two being her parents! Not to mention it’s clear she is very close with the Sins themselves. Now, as powerful as you are darling, why would you go about making an enemy of them all just to coerce the princess when there’s a possibility she might willingly assist in whatever it is you are doing? It seems rather a large risk you may not need to take is all I’m saying.”

Alastor froze, blinking, mulling over Rosie's words while the woman herself smirked behind her teacup. He hated to say it but she made a rather good point, if he continued with his current plans he was about to make himself some rather powerful enemies. Sure he had known that on some level already, but considering his current condition it seemed rather more daunting than it had a few months ago. Then there was the added factor of betraying Charlie’s trust… why did that make his insides squirm? He'd never considered her willingly helping him, though maybe he should have considering her bleeding heart.

“I do believe it’s time we head downstairs or we will be late for this morning's meeting” Rosie hummed when it became clear to her that he was not going to say anything further, rising from her seat and brushing down her skirts.

Alastor rose automatically from his seat too, giving only a nod in response as his thoughts were still otherwise occupied, and offered her his elbow as they left her rooms together. Rosie did not question his silence, deciding it was a good thing if he was contemplating her words rather than arguing.

They were halfway down the stairs when his shadow returned to him, letting him know of the Vee’s attempt to sway Charlie to their side. It irked him, but did not surprise him, that Vox had tried to make his move on the princess the moment he left her side. Typical. The coward wouldn’t dare had he been there with her.

Yet, when they arrived at the hall just as breakfast was beginning to get cleared away, he found the princess sitting with Carmilla Carmine and Zestial, the latter of whom she appeared to be utterly absorbed in conversation with – he could hear them as he approached, something about how Zestial once beat Lucifer in chess and the ridiculous excuse of a king still hadn’t let it go– enough that she didn’t notice his approach at all.

“-he taught me the most complicated manoeuvres for weeks after your game, I think he was hoping I might beat you when he could not!” the princess laughed.

“A challenge I would relish should'st thou aye would to play me, princess” the overlord chuckled in response.

“Har Har, now this seems to be a riveting conversation!” Alastor interrupted rather loudly, taking a seat on the bench at the table close enough to Charlie to bump their arms together, drawing her focus from Zestial to himself.

Carmilla smirked at Rosie when she saw this, an expression the cannibal overlord shared but still she decided to cover for his rather abrupt entrance, and sat on his other side more gracefully as she apologised, “I do hope you didn’t mind me stealing him from you for a moment, Charlie. Just needed to have a word.”

It was a lie of course. She hadn’t stolen Al, rather he’d come to her, but Rosie doubted he’d have thought of a good excuse the way he’d seemed so agitated when he’d first come to her room. Whether he decided to listen to her advice or not, it wouldn’t hurt to make the way just a little easier for him.

“Not at all,” Charlie smiled, “and I’m glad to see you too Rosie, I haven’t had a chance to stop by Cannibal Town and thank you all for the help during the battle! Really, I don’t think we could have done it at all without your people's help!”

“Why, nothing to it sweetie” Rosie waved off her thanks, blushing a little “Glad we could help, besides we got to devour all that delicious angel meat – oh my, it was like Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner all rolled into one!”

“I found it far too sickly for my tastes” Alastor hummed, eyeing the shark demon that had begun clearing away their plates and had looked at them with distaste when he’d approached their table, he continued “I far prefer demon meat – why, I could dine on that and never be full!”

As Rosie and Carmilla began discussing something other than cannibalistic tendencies, Alastor continued to watch the waiter. The shark demon’s eyes widened comically at his comment on eating demon meat, and he began sweating when he caught Alastor’s eye on him – he made sure to give his best maniacally toothy grin, enjoying the way the shark demon practically fell over in his haste to get away from the Overlords. A sharp poke of an elbow in his ribs and Alastor glanced to his side, Charlie giving him a stern (if not for the amusem*nt sparkling in her eyes) glare having obviously witnessed him intentionally scaring the server. He smirked at her, quirking an eyebrow, and Charlie rolled her eyes trying to hide her grin by pressing her lips together.

Their attention was taken when Zestial asked Charlie, “I could not help yet notice thy inn hath been rebuilt since the broil. Doth thou resolve to continue with thy ambitions to try and redeem sinners?”

“Oh, yes!” Charlie nodded her head enthusiastically “We’re planning to re-open as soon as my father returns. There were a few odds and ends to get sorted before but I think we’re ready now, and we have so many more ideas planned!”

“But you have not yet managed to actually redeem a sinner?” Carmilla asked, elbows on the table and fingers laced in front of her as she studied Charlie.

“No, not yet” Charlie admitted, fretting a little as she played with the hem of her red blazer “But that doesn’t mean it's impossible.”

“As improbable as her dream may be, I must say that even I have noticed a change in the loathsome inhabitants of her hotel currently” Alastor added, more than aware when the Princess turned to gape at him, though he kept his steady gaze on Carmilla opposite, “at the very least, they have become more tolerable.”

“Tolerable certainly is high praise coming from you of all demons,” Carmilla quirked an eyebrow.

“May I bid, Princess, whence hath thou aye get the imagining for redemption 'i hell?” Zestial questioned Charlie rather curiously. He had been in hell for centuries now, or was it a millennium by now, he lost count. The ancient overlord had seen so many things come and go, and yet, he had never heard even a whisper of a sinner becoming redeemed. No, usually they were either killed off in the exterminations or became so old and weak that their essence simply faded off into the fabric of hell itself. Truly he could not help but wonder if this dream of hers was really the foolish fancy of a youthful princess, or did she perhaps know something the rest of hell did not?

“Well, I believe that everyone deserves a second chance-“

Alastor zoned out a little as she went on her usual spiel, eyes half-lidded as he glanced around the room. He was somewhat pleased to notice the other three actually were listening to her – though their expressions and nods were more polite than actual interest, but at least they were listening. Breakfast plates were still being cleared around the room. No doubt the meeting would begin soon and she’d probably have to leave and join the sins at the high table, which disappointed him a little. Sat as close as they were right now he’d certainly notice her gone, it was like sitting beside a personal furnace. He could smell her too, that sweet-spicy cinnamon scent that seemed to be all Charlie seemed to tease him every now and then, bringing his thoughts back to that morning – waking up in her arms – and, inevitably, to Rosie’s advice.

He was distracted however when he felt her stiffen quite suddenly beside him, only seconds before a voice interrupted -“Hey Charlie!”

Alastor looked up to see who their guest was and didn’t bother to hide his sneer when he recognised her grinning ex he’d met briefly on their first night, the dark fish-like Von Eldritch demon standing at the end of their table and leering down at her without even bothering to so much as glance towards the rest of them.

“Seviathan, good morning” she greeted politely, though Charlie made a point to lean closer to Alastor and ended up practically plastered to his side. She hoped he wouldn’t be too upset later, but considering it was his damn fault Seviathan was under the impression their partnership was something more, he could suck it up for five minutes. “What can we do for you?” she asked, emphasising the ‘we’.

“I just thought you might want to come join me at the Von Eldritch table for this meeting – see exactly how I run our business and all that.”

Charlie thought back on yesterday's meeting when she’d observed him trying to balance his chair on only two legs for a better part of the meeting and was half tempted to make a comment, but decided to be the better demon and chose to simply shake her head, “ah, no thank you! I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll stay right here.”

Alastor’s sneer became a smirk as the darker demon finally raised his gaze to look around the table, landing on him last. He might have tilted his head towards Charlie’s, not quite touching, but enough considering the way she was leaning on him for the other demon to get an idea of their closeness and enjoyed the glare that was probably supposed to be intimidating he sent his way.

“Urgh, Sev, I told you not to come over here-“ a new voice came, a tall demoness in a pink fur coat and a high ponytail of white hair coming over to grab Seviathan by his arm, aiming a scathing glare at Charlie as she did as she continued “-leave the pretty little princess to her sinners, and her stupid hotel, while the rest of us clean up her messes!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Charlie scowled at this demoness, leaning away from Alastor and her hands curling into fists. Helsa Von Eldritch always did seem to test her usually infinite patience…

“You heard me!” Helsa sniffed, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder and speaking loud enough that she began to draw attention from the demons at nearby tables who were looking at them now with interest. “You and your f*cking hotel and stupid redemption ideas, putting the rest of us in danger-“

“-whoa, okay!” Bee buzzed over, landing beside Helsa and managing to wedge herself in between Charlie’s table and the other demoness as she forced some space between them, “Maybe that’s enough now, alright, we don’t wanna start anything we can't finish, yeah?”

“Perhaps it is a good segway into the topic we should have been discussing this whole time” Satan’s voice boomed from the high table, the demon himself standing to observe the scene.

“Satan, we agreed we would wait for Lucifer-!“ Ozzie hissed.

“Lucifer fought in the battle against heaven as well,” Satan grumbled, “he is as much to blame as his daughter!”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie stood now, so she could see the high table better, though she did not stray too far from her seat. She felt better knowing Alastor was at her back.

“We’re talking about your dumbass hotel and sh*tty redemption ideas!” Helsa yelled again, her temper getting the better of her as her nails extended to wicked claws. Alastor tensed in his seat, more than ready to stop her should she manage to evade Beelzebub and attack Charlie. “You f*cking killed Adam, do you really think Heaven is going to just let that go? No! You’ve started a war you dumb bitch!”

“The exterminations are wrong!” Charlie argued imploringly, “No one deserves to be destroyed like that, not even sinners. What was I supposed to do, leave them to suffer every year?”

Charlie gazed around the room, but while no one spoke up loudly, she could see on the faces and hear from the murmurs around her that that was exactly what they thought she should do. Her expression quickly became disgusted as she looked around, realising that of course they were happy with the exterminations arrangement. As Hellborn, none of them were ever in danger of being impaled on an angel's spear.

“What’s a few hundred human souls when more and more of them are quite literally dying – pun intended – to get down here anyway?” Mammon piped up.

“Because they are our people too!” Charlie shouted, her voice echoing off the high ceiling, “and they are just as important as any hellborn demon. They have just as much right to exist, and if there is a way for their souls to be redeemed and ascend to heaven then I will find it, and I will help them!”

“And in doing so may well have damned the rest of your people!” Satan bellowed back, his temper getting the best of him “Not once, Charlotte, not once In ten thousand years has a soul ever been redeemed and silly dreams of one naïve princess isn’t going to change that!”

“How do you know for sure?”

Charlie turned with wet eyes to stare in shock at Alastor, the Radio Demon now stood by her side with his hands clasped behind his back and a steady gaze on Satan himself as he questioned him. To their side, Bee gaped at him with raised eyebrows, while Rosie was shaking her head at his recklessness. Carmilla and Zestial did not react at all, merely watching the scene play out before them with interest.

Satan paused to eye the sinner that stood beside the princess, “And who are you supposed to be?”

“Alastor, the Radio Demon, charmed I’m sure” he introduced himself with his usual fanfare, then added in a more biting tone, “and it’s rude to answer a question with another, good sir, how do you know for sure that redeeming a sinner is impossible? Just because it’s never happened before? Why, I could say the same of a great many things. But I can tell you I have seen a real change in the demons Charlie is currently shepherding towards the light at her hotel, I have personally witnessed them making changes to themselves that, dare I say, one might consider to be good!”

“And are you an example of one such soul?” Satan arched an eyebrow.

“Me? Oh, no, no, no!” Alastor scoffed, hand against his chest “The very idea itself is absurd! No, there will be plenty of sinners such as myself who neither want nor can change themselves. Those are the souls who are just as loathsome as you all seem to think sinners to be. Now to the crux of the sibject, I hardly see how it is fair or right to blame Charlie for fighting back against the extermination. The way I see it, if she didn’t then eventually someone else would have. Adam had already shortened the length of time between exterminations, he and his angels were pious and bloodthirsty, a dangerous combination. Just how much longer do you think it could have gone on before the hellborn were no longer safe?”

“Loathe as I am to agree with the Radio Demon-“ Carmilla stood in her seat, cold calculating gaze looking around the room as she spoke “-if the exorcists had their way sinners would be completely eradicated, and who then do you think would fall victim to their blades when there are no more human souls to state their hunger?”

The crowds around the rippled with nervous chatter in response to Carmilla’s words. Charlie ignored it, her wet gaze flickering between the two overlords, silently thanking them for their support, even if Carmilla was the only one who actually looked her way. Alastor kept his eye on Satan who had come down from the high table to stand a few meters from them now, seething as he paced.

His usual smile stretched his cheeks as he continued to speak, “Daresay, one might even call you cowards for not supporting Charlie’s fight. The battle might not be at your feet quite yet, but rest assured, be it centuries down the line, heaven will come for the hellborn too.”

“Coward-?” Satan turned on the red sinner demon in a rage, though he barely got more than a few steps towards him before the princess blocked his path.

Charlie stood between Alastor and Satan in her demon form, pale gaze narrowed with slitted pupils fixed on the demon she considered an uncle (though as the sin of wrath, well known for his temper) her hair moving around her in a way that mimicked flames as the red horns sprouted from her head. She said nothing – though a slight growl may have slipped past her clenched teeth – merely glared at her uncle. Daring him to make a move. She didn’t want to fight him, but she wasn’t going to allow him to harm her friends either.

“Satan!” Belphagor’s voice rang clear and fatigue-free for once as she and Leviathan came down from the table, both of them ready to grab the sin of wrath if they needed to subdue him. “Remember the rules, if you want to fight Charlie then take it outside!”

That seemed to cool his temper, Satan’s shoulders dropping as he held Charlie's steady gaze for a moment longer. When he finally turned away, she could have sworn there was something of a proud twinkle in his eye before he cleared his throat and spoke again, “No, I don’t want… no.” He looked at Charlie again, adding gruffly “Princess, there is no redeeming a sinners soul. It was your father's original sin that allowed evil onto earth to corrupt them, and it is his punishment to rule over them.”

“You were born from his sin too, uncle.” Charlie spoke calmly, forcing her appearance to revert back to normal now he had backed down and keeping her fists clenched to hide the way her fingers no doubt trembled, “All of hell and Its demons only exist because of what happened in that garden, so really, what’s so different between a hellborn demon and a sinner if we’re all connected by the original sin?”

Satan looked surprised by this argument as murmurers erupted around the room once more, with some demons shaking their heads in disagreement while some appeared intrigued by her rebuttal.

Seeing her moment to speak uninterrupted, Charlie turned to address the room as a whole and lifted her voice so all might hear,

“The death of Adam was not planned, nor was the battle itself, but heaven gave us no other choice. They targeted us purposefully, and we protected ourselves as anyone else would from a threat! Adam was even given the opportunity to leave peacefully!” she decided to omit that part where Nifty stabbed him in the back, though she was pretty sure the entire fight was streamed to Voxtube if any of them cared to look it up “Heaven hasn’t yet retaliated or made any comment on what happened, my father is meeting with them now and I expect to hear from him soon… if retaliation does come it will be against me, and I will accept the consequences as much as I am able, to protect my people. All my people.”

The room around her exploded with chatter after her little speech, but Charlie paid it no attention. She was thinking of the glare Lute had thrown her way after her father had ordered her to get out, the murderous intent behind it, Charlie knew she held her personally responsible for Adam’s death even if it wasn’t her who held the knife. Yeah, if retaliation came, Lute would be its leader and it would be Charlie’s blood she was after. The sooner she could begin training with Al’ the better.

A snort to her side drew her attention back to Helsa, who scoffed “You hope they only come after you!” before stalking away, dragging Seviathan with her.

“Well, perhaps we should take a breather and end this meeting now– before things get any more heated, and not in a good way!” Ozzie called from the high table, getting an agreeing nod from his fellow sins – even Satan.

Charlie wasted no time bolting out of the room without so much as a glance back. She just needed out of that room, away from the staring eyes and the muttering behind her back. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could hear buzzing in her ears. She was vaguely aware of Razzle following her, though she didn’t pay him any attention, merely running across the foyer and out of the Lodge’s front door desperate for some fresh air.

She made it all the way down to the edge of the boiling lake behind the Lodge before her legs began to burn and her lungs begged her to stop. Hands on her knees as she panted, Charlie felt her eyes burn but straightened up and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to stave off the tears that threatened to fall. She would not cry, she would not, she would not!

What was she even crying over, anyway? She made a good argument! It was the first time she’d had to defend her dream after all, she was well rehearsed in her reasonings by this point. She just never thought she’d be defending herself against demons she thought of as family…

… no, that wasn’t why she was upset. She was upset because she’d never considered the consequences her fight with heaven would have for the rest of hell. Had she really been so narrow-minded, so focused on her singular goal, that she’d put the rest of her people in danger? How could she be so stupid? They were right, if heaven retaliated then sure the focus of it would likely be on her and her hotel, but the rest of hell would surely suffer.

And it would be her fault.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” she chanted, pacing beside the water.

Charlie was so focused on her thoughts she barely noticed the approaching footsteps or the way Razzle began to growl. No, she only noticed when she felt pain across her temple suddenly, something hit her chin and she realised she was on the floor.

She heard a deafening roar, then, nothing.

Chapter 8: You're a dragon, but I'm not a knight

Chapter Text

Alastor had turned to watch when Charlie bolted out of the room, though he remained rooted to the spot where he stood long after she’d disappeared out of the doors. His brain was still trying to catch up with the fact she had put herself between him and Satan, the princess had made it clear to the literal Sin of Wrath that a move against him would be a move against her, without saying so much as a word.

He was vaguely aware of demons beginning to move around him, somewhat aware of the conversations (most fearing war, though it seemed one or two agreed with Charlie’s words) but he himself remained frozen until Rosie gave him a sharp jab in the ribs with her elbow.

“Well, if you had any doubts for the depths of the girl's affection for yourself, I should think them answered after that little display!” the overlord hummed with amusem*nt, though she kept her tone quiet so only he might hear her.

That unfroze him, snapping his head to the side to glare at Rosie – who merely gave him a toothy grin – he did not dignify her comment with a response.

“Now, now, don’t give me that look –“ Rosie chided, patting his arm “-but if I were you, I’d go after her. Something tells me the princess could do with a friendly face and a bit of comfort right about now.”

Rosie was right of course, Charlie had fled with such haste he knew the poor thing must be fretting over what had just taken place. He couldn’t help casting a glare over his shoulder towards where the rest of the sins appeared to have gathered for their own private chat following the very public dispute, his ire aimed at Satan in particular. He had half a mind to go over and continue his argument, consequences be damned, but Rosie was right and he had a princess to find.

Stalking out of the hall amongst the members of demon royalty, Alastor paid them no attention at all as he tried to figure out just where Charlie might go. Their room? It wasn’t uncommon for her to wrap herself up in blankets and cocoon herself when upset. It also wasn’t unheard of for her to go to Husker’s bar and have a few drinks either, and he heard this Lodge had a bar as well someplace. He couldn’t very well wander around all day looking for her, no, and while she had warned him against using his magic too much… well, his shadow hardly counted, right?

Leaning against the desk in the Lodge’s foyer and pretending to inspect his claws, Alastor wordlessly sent his shadow (and maybe one or two others) to check the area for Charlie’s whereabouts. As he waited for them to return he couldn’t help letting his mind wander to what had happened in that so-called meeting, a small proud smile tugging at his lips as he recalled how passionately she had fought her cause – fought for demons like him – against a sin of all demons. She’d spoken so confidently! He’d only jumped in when he saw her gaze turn wide and teary upon being told redemption was impossible, for all the times he’d told her he thought the same thing he’d never known her to respond with anything more than a shrug or a grin and simply tell him he didn’t know that for sure, it unsettled him to see her falter. On the other hand, it had felt very strange that for once he was the one arguing that they didn’t know that for sure. He hadn’t changed his mind, of course, redemption for a demon was a preposterous idea. Their actions in life are what earned them damnation, no changing that, but if it kept that spark in her alive then he was more than happy to let her continue in delusional optimism for a while.

One of his shadows returned to him, reporting back that Charlie was on the boiling lakeshore, at the same time a fearsome roar resounded through Lodge. Demons around him froze, some reacting with shocked gasps as they looked around, while others immediately fell into a defensive stance as if expecting an attack. Alastor seemed to be the only one to register that the sound had come from outside the building, ears swivelling in the direction of the roar as his entire body went on alert, his stomach suddenly feeling as if it had dropped down to his feet as one thought popped into his head.

Charlie.

Drain on his magic be damned, the radio demon scowled as he summoned the darkness to take him to wherever she was, the familiar icy cold sensation he felt down to his bones right before he reappeared on the lakeshore. He felt the drain on his energy immediately, stumbling a step or two as he squinted at the change in lighting, the red sky bright with the mid-morning glow, the air around the lake thick with humidity, and barely five meters from him lying on the sand was Charlie.

Eyes going wide at the sight of her lying prone on the ground with red pooling around her head, Alastor had taken several steps towards her before he registered the hulking beast curled around her side, that was at least until it let out another roar and lowered its draconian head to lift a blood stained lip and snarl at him.

So this must be her little goat demon’s other form- now he understood why they were considered her bodyguards. Dragon-Razzle let out another rumbling growl, eyeing up the Radio Demon like he might just be considering him another snack to wash down whatever creature he’d already devoured. Her attackers most likely – he could see no evidence she’d fallen accidentally, and Razzle’s transformation confirmed as such – and if not, when he was done with them, they would wish they’d been eaten by the dragon.

But first, she was still bleeding…

Alastor levelled the dragon with a glare, willing it to move, while dragon-razzle only narrowed his slitted eyes and huffed. He was vaguely aware of others beginning to approach them, no doubt drawn to the sound of Razzle’s roar like he was, and someone (perhaps Beelzebub?) was shouting to stay back, but he didn’t move. He dared not, one wrong twitch and the dragon may well decide he’d look better down its gullet, and considering the magic he’d already used he didn’t think he quite had the strength to take the creature on right now. His coat and hair moved as the massive beast took a deep breath apparently appraising his scent, and though every part of him screamed to fight his way past it, he forced himself to remain still under the creature's scrutiny.

The crowd was drawing closer now. He could hear voices asking what had happened, more than one authoritative tone was telling them all to stay back, but he kept his gaze on the beast that studied him. In his head Alastor was coming up with a plan if Razzle did attack him, the dragon was large and its movements appeared clumsy so he was probably still faster, or perhaps he could use his shadows to move Charlie while the creature’s attention was on him – though he was reluctant to do so when she was hurt, he could cause more harm than good…

Before he could decide his best move, Razzle let out a snort, shaking his massive head and turning away from Alastor to focus on the approaching crowd with a hiss. Deciding this was probably the most approval he would get to approach the dragon's mistress, Alastor wasted no time moving past him and to Charlie’s side with barely concealed haste. With dread, he realised the princess had not moved at all since he first spotted her, though the pool of blood coming from what he could now see was a sizeable gash to the side of her head, had gotten bigger. Just how much blood had she lost already?

“Charlie!” he called her name, crouching at her side so he could turn her over gently.

“Al-Alastor?” she groaned, eyes fluttering and she squinted up at him, a shaking hand raising up to hover near her head, “ow, what-?”

“Shh, darling, I’ve got you,” he told her, relieved at least that she was lucid enough to recognise him even if she seemed confused by what had happened, unable to resist pulling her a little closer as he brushed the bloodied hair back from her face to get a closer look at her wound. He grimaced when he saw it, removing his handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it against the wound, making her yelp, but he held her still. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a bloody and broken baseball bat half concealed in the sand beside her. The deer demon's smile became more of a feral snarl as his blood boiled to realise the coward, whoever they had been, must have struck her from behind with it.

“Let me see her!“ the voice startled him, as focused as he had been on the princes in his arms he had missed Belphagor sneaking past the dragon while her fellow Sins kept him (and the crowd of spectators) distracted. The goat-like sin did not wait for him to answer, simply crouching down beside him as she reached her hoof-like hands towards Charlie as they glowed pink. Alastor tightened his grip on the woman in his arms, eyeing the other demon warily, but fought the urge to scare her away, reminding himself that Charlie trusted her…

“Ohmysatan, ohmysatan, is she okay?!” Bee was suddenly hovering over their other side, her eyes wide and wet and she fretted.

“Quiet!” Bel snapped at her sister, though she did not take her focus off Charlie for even a moment, not a trace of her usual sleepiness in her tone. Both Bee and Alastor were silent while she worked, her glowing hands tracing Charlie’s entire body slowly. After a few tense moments, she finally let out a relieved sigh, dropping her hands as the glow stopped, and said “She’s okay. Lil’ battered, and a slight concussion, but she will be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Bee worried “all that blood, are you sure she’s-“

“-I’m sure, girlie, don’t worry your wings off. I know what I’m doing.” Bel huffed, raising an eyebrow “She’s got a gash on her head, looks bad, but It’s pretty shallow. It’ll need to be kept clean, and she’ll have one hell of a headache, but she’ll be okay. Head wounds just bleed a lot.”

“Oh thank god,” Bee fell out of the air, landing on her feet and turning her relived gaze skyward to give a two-finger salute to the sky above.

Belphagor rolled her eyes, finally setting her sight on Alastor – still clutching Charlie half on his lap – and smirked a bit as she said, “But she’s going to need some rest.”

Alastor had been focused on Charlie, more than a little concerned despite Belphagor’s assurance that she was alright, considering she hadn’t made another peep since he’d hushed her. He’d thought that maybe she’d fallen unconscious, but when he looked down he found her still looking up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears and wide with fear, yet trusting. He hadn’t even noticed the grip she had on the lapel of his suit until he tried to move. When he registered Belphagor’s words he glanced up at the sin, not at all liking the knowing expression on her face, but he understood her meaning.

Bee, however, seemed unaware and she crouched, “rest! Of course! I can fly her back to... err…”

The fox-like demon hesitated when static screeched from the deer demon currently clutching her injured niece against his chest and glaring at her, his expression deadly despite the grin that stretched his cheeks. Charlie herself had a white-knuckle grip on the lapels of his suit, expression twisting to a painful grimace as she shifted slightly to look at her aunts, and assured them “s’okay auntie… Al’s got me.”

Bee and Belphagor exchanged a surprised look, but Bee backed off without argument, both sets of arms folded with an amused expression on her face.

Alastor himself couldn’t seem to squash the feeling that spread through his chest upon hearing her telling them that he had her, repeating his own words. He had her. She was hurt and it was he who she chose to get her to safety. With a self-satisfied smirk, he reached his other arm beneath her knees and lifted her into his arms as he stood. She whimpered when she was jostled a little, tucking her face into his chest, Alastor was forced to shut his eyes for a second to make sure his expression remained completely neutral at the action.

Looking around, he sneered at the crowd gawking at the scene (he even saw some camera flashes from these idiot's cell phones, the nerve!) and made the call to use the shadows to move Charlie back to their room without having to walk through that mess. It was satisfying to hear the gasps as the tendrils of darkness rose up from the ground and grasped the pair of them in their icy grips. The last thing Alastor saw was Dragon-Razzle spinning around, eyes narrowed, and lunging towards them with a snarl as they disappeared. Pure pitch darkness encompassed them for a few moments, Charlie’s grip on his lapel tightening in response before it released them into the now familiar surroundings of their shared room.

Thankfully they appeared near the wall because this time around the drain on his energy slammed into him rather fast, forcing him to lean against the wall for a moment to recover and pray Charlie did not notice the slight tremble in his arms as he fought to keep his grip on her. He was suddenly glad she’d suggested he have one of her silver apples that morning, not certain he could have performed as much magic as this without completely passing out if he had not.

“Al’?” she asked in a small voice as she wriggled a bit in his arms, alarmed by his sudden unsteadiness as she attempted to get free. “Al’, you shouldn’t-“

“Hush, my dear, I was not about to carry you through the crowd of gawkers” he scolded, tightening his grip to restrict her feeble movements, mustering his strength now the initial fatigue had faded so he could stand straight once more, “now, you heard what your aunt said. Let’s get that wound cleaned up, then you can rest.”

Charlie did not argue as Alastor carried her into the bathroom, though she could still feel a slight tremble in his arms where he held her, she didn’t quite have it in her to argue with him. She felt utterly drained, any adrenaline she had quickly wearing off, and her head hurt – and while Belphagor had said she’d be okay, there had been a moment there when she’d honestly thought she was dying. Alastor’s face when he’d turned her over had been… she’d never, ever, thought she’d see the Radio Demon look scared but if she didn’t know otherwise, she’d have said he looked terrified. Bee’s worrying hadn’t been nearly as disturbing as that look on his face.

He set her down on the floor with her back against the bathtub, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves, not that she really noticed. The tile floor was surprisingly grounding considering her head continued to feel like she was floating above the ground rather than sitting on it, painful pounding echoing in her skull, she was almost oblivious to the fact Alastor had gathered her hair into the tub and was using the shower head to clean the blood from her pale blonde locks – at least, until the water touched her wound and she recoiled at the pain.

Alastor moved the water away from the wound when she hissed and flinched, allowing her a moment to readjust before he tried again, the water running pink as it washed away though it did leave parts of her hair a little stained. When he moved the water back this time she still hissed, but remained still.

“Good girl, we’re almost done…” he muttered, hoping he sounded comforting, raking a clawed hand through her soaked locks as he watched the fresh blood seep from her wound only to be immediately washed away with the water. He knew it hurt her, but it had to be done. She gave a jerky nod at his reassurances, grabbing a fistful of his shirt for comfort.

Normally in a situation such as this, he might have been tempted to sample a taste. He was a man with a refined palate after all, and one did not achieve such without jumping at every opportunity to taste something new. He particularly enjoyed the rare and unusual – was there anything rarer or more unusual than the offspring of an angel and a demon? He wouldn’t lie, he’d definitely entertained the thought of how she might taste ever since he moved into the hotel a few months ago. And yet as he watched the blood drain away, revealing the long but shallow wound that arched jaggedly from her temple to behind her ear, Alastor was surprised to find he wasn’t tempted at all. Blood and pain were things he enjoyed, but… apparently not on her. Seeing her wince and hearing her pained sounds only set his barely concealed rage to a dull simmer he tried not to let her see.

Once the blood stopped seeping from her wound and the water ran clear again, Alastor reached up to turn the water off, though he made her stay still until he’d fetched some towels and began to dry her thick hair gently. Charlie didn’t make a peep, though she eyed him with some surprise, and let him do as he pleased.

Her uncharacteristic silence was unnerving him, speaking volumes of the amount of pain she must be in. Still, he had to ask the question burning in his mind. “Can you tell me what happened out there, darling?”

“I…” she sucked in a breath, “um… I went outside for some air after… after this morning. I needed some air and… and then pain. D-did I fall over?”

Alastor wished he could lie to her, keen ears detecting the slight wobble in her tone, but to do so would only be a disservice. He sighed, “No, sweetheart, you didn’t fall.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” He agreed, but decided any further questions could wait for now “Are you still in pain?”

“… yeah.”

He used the towel to pat around her wound gently, intending to dry it but not wanting to be so rough as to start it bleeding again, pausing every time she would flinch away. “I think we still have some of those painkillers, would they work on you?”

“They should…” she peeked at him over her shoulder, “but, ah, perhaps not a handful of them?”

“How cruel of you to remind me of my past mistakes when I am using my precious and valuable time assisting you!” he chuckled, hanging up the towel. She blushed, opening her mouth – most likely to apologize – but he swiftly pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. “Now, now, I was only joking, darling. I’ll fetch you that medicine.”

Charlie watched him exit the bathroom, blinking a few times when she realised that without his jacket to cover it his tail was in full view, unable to resist a tiny giggle when it waved a bit. Her smile dropped the second he disappeared, left alone with her thoughts it was hard not to let them wander back to what had happened that morning. First the argument with Satan, then… was she attacked? Charlie rubbed her own arms. Okay, so this wasn’t exactly the first time she’d been attacked (she was a princess, and this was hell) but that didn’t mean it felt any better every time it happened.

Re-entering the bathroom, Alastor took a good look at the melancholy princess curled against the bathtub with her damp hair falling across her shoulders leaving wet marks on her red blazer, hugging herself. He was struck with the strangest urge to pull her into his arms and keep her there until that radiant smile of hers returned, but shook himself of the thought and simply handed her the two small tablets he’d fetched. He was about to offer her a glass of water, but she surprised him when she swallowed them dry with nary a grimace at the taste – and here he thought she only ever ate things laced with sugar!

“Come now, let’s get you off this cold floor and into bed” Al’ said, offering a hand to help pull her up.

Charlie accepted, allowing him to help her stand, and couldn’t help chuckling when a voice that sounded suspiciously like Angel Dust popped into her head and made a comment about Alastor getting her into bed. Alastor noticed her expression with a raised eyebrow, but she didn’t offer an answer to his silent question.

He did not look when she was changing out of her wet suit and into her pyjamas, and he was somewhat surprised when she did not protest much as he instructed her to lie down in bed and rest.

“Are you going to tuck me in too?” she rolled her eyes, weariness lacing her tone as the painkillers got to work.

“If that’s what it takes for you to get some rest” he retorted, pleased she was still able to joke at least and yanking the blanket up to her chin and tucking it tightly around her, “would the princess care for a bedtime story, as well? Though I must warn you, I’m a fan of the gruesome originals, not these flowery happily-ever-after endings children enjoy!”

She looked surprised at first, then let out a slight giggle that ended in a wince when her head throbbed at the sensation. “I’d expect nothing less from you Al’” she admitted almost affectionately.

Having noticed her wince, he asked “Perhaps I should get some ice for your head?”

“No, too cold” she shuffled, getting comfier, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, “I think I’m gonna get some sleep… thanks Al’”

He only smiled at her, shrugging his suit coat back on and taking a seat across the room and picking up a book with one hand. He wasn’t actually reading, no, he was listening keenly to the sound of her breathing. It took shockingly little time before her breathing evened out, indicating she had finally drifted off, the radio demon put down the book once more and slipped out of the glass doors to the balcony for a moment to himself.

Alastor placed his hands on the wooden railing and scowled, though his grin remained stretched high upon his cheeks, the crack of his antlers and the groves his claws began to carve into the wood rail betrayed his fury.

He hadn’t wanted her to see his anger, confused and hurt as she was at the moment, he’d needed to focus on getting her away and safe more than his need to rage. Now she was fast asleep tucked up safe in their room and he still felt that urge… he wanted to track down her attacker and made sure the loathsome little cretin knew the colour of his own guts before he passed into the sweet relief of death. But from the blood on Razzle’s lips it seemed the dragon had beaten him to it, leaving him no outlet for his temper, and the additional dilemma that he could not leave her alone.

The attack could mean nothing, of course, a one-time thing possibly spurred on by the heated argument had at this morning’s meeting. Perhaps one of the demons upset with her actions had decided to take matters into his own hands? A baseball bat as a weapon did not seem terribly premeditated after all. In that scenario, with Razzle devouring the perpetrator, the danger should have passed – and a deadly warning issue to any with a similar idea in mind. It made no sense to sit by her side as she slept, and yet, this was the only thing that kept him firmly in their room while his anger seemed to burn him from the inside out.

His gut told him something else was going on, something he wasn’t seeing, and he trusted his gut. That she wasn’t safe. Had he the energy right now he’d have half a mind to shadow warp them straight back to the hotel, her duty be damned, at least there she was safe. Annoying though they were, the residents of their hotel had proven loyal where it counted, no doubt they’d have protected her when he was too weak to do so…

It hit him like a brick, the realisation then that Rosie had been right. For all the fighting he had done against it, he – the infamous and deadly Radio Demon – cared for her. He wasn’t certain he’d call it ‘having feelings’ as she’d so put it, but there was certainly something there… something about her that caused his cold, black, heart to beat just a little stronger than before. When had he ever cared more for the well-being of another over his own? And yet, for her, he’d been willing to use the limited magic he had – risking the spread of the poison – to make sure she was safe.

Alastor felt his antlers shrink back as his anger gave over to more confusing feelings, he began pacing the length of the balcony, his traitorous gaze flicking to peer at her through the glass every time he passed. How had this happened? He’d never cared this strongly for another being, other than his mother perhaps. He hadn’t been careful, hadn’t seen a reason to be, his guard was always up and there had never been anyone before able to slip past his carefully constructed defences – so how had the princess effortlessly slipped by to become one of the very few creatures he cared about? Let alone one he had very little chances of returning said affections!

A fluttering sound alerted him that he was no longer alone so Alastor was hardly surprised when he turned around to find Razzle hovering at the other end of the balcony, the goat demon glaring at him with his arms folded and tail lashing behind him. He was clearly unhappy to have been left behind earlier.

Alastor ignored the goat demon's glare, honestly glad for a distraction from his thoughts, he asked “Did you really eat the brute that attacked her?”

Razzle did not respond at first, only continued to glare, before finally giving a shrug and a nod.

Alastor laughed. He wished he could have seen the look on the demon's face when this tiny plush-toy-looking goat had risen to his mistress's aide and devoured them, assuming they had attacked before he took on his draconian form. He’d never thought he’d have something in common with her little pet.

His laughter was cut short when Razzle suddenly flew up to be face height with him, still glaring and actually bared his teeth. Alastor was confused for a moment before a lightbulb went off.

“Ah, I take you are upset I took her from you?”

Razzle grumbled, nodding.

Narrowing his eyes, Alastor growled back “What would you have rather had me do? Leave her on that beach to continue bleeding? Carry her through that crowd of spectators so they could continue to gawk at her pain? Don’t you think she had quite enough of that this morning?”

Glare faltering, Razzle frowned a little.

Leaning closer to him – and only because the mute little beastie could not repeat a word he said – Alastor admitted, “You and I both want the same thing, for her to be safe. Agreed?”

Razzle gave a nod but looked doubtful.

“Then I don’t understand why you are so upset.” He took a step towards the window and indicated with a hand “I got her away and safe, if you care to look.”

Razzle did look through the window, expression brightening somewhat when he spotted his mistress, but still, he returned his glare back to Alastor. The radio demon rolled his eyes, at least until the goat demon snorted – smoke and flare flickered from his nostrils as he gave a slight growl, but he turned away again to enter the room, making his way towards the sleeping Charlie without looking back over his shoulder.

A warning of some kind, Alastor presumed, dusting his jacket as if the smoke he’d exhaled on him had stained. He watched through the window as Razzle settled on the bed by Charlie, curling against her like a cat, resting his chin on her stomach.

And if he felt any jealous spike that realised the goat demon could do that without consequence, well, it was quickly squashed when he looked away again.

Chapter 9: We sit and chat like an old married couple

Chapter Text

“The f*ck do you mean Dave is dead?!” Crimson spat, slamming his hands on the table to glare at the pair of demons who had just burst through the doors of his dining room to inform him of the untimely demise of his best (or rather, most obedient) henchman. Around the table, his top enforcers, Striker included as he wished to keep a close eye on his latest acquisition, watched the scene keenly.

“W-we,” one of the two stuttered to speak, “we t-tried to grab her when she was alone like you told us-“

“-and you even managed to screw that up” the mob boss scowled, “useless! What am I even paying you for? Get out of my sight!”

As the two demons scrambled out of the room letting the door slam shut once more behind them, Crimson sat back in his seat and rubbed his forehead. What had he done to earn such pathetic minions? He told them to grab the princess when she was alone, how f*cking difficult was that?!

Further down the table, Striker watched the entire affair with some interest. He’d basically been threatened into this lunch, he got the feeling Crimson was showing him off like a prize show pony to the rest of the demons here, but this entertainment had made it rather worth his while. Though it irked him some, he imagined that whatever happened with the princess and her would-be kidnappers would have been the perfect distraction for him to snatch the Goetia heiress.

“Boss?” a rather large shark demon dared to ask, breaking the tension. “You – uh – you okay?”

Crimson did not answer immediately, steepling his fingers thoughtfully as he mulled over his thoughts for a moment, finally saying “It would seem I have overestimated the intelligence of those in my employ. Competency aside, we will continue with our plan to take the Morningstar princess – however, it seems this task could use more… finesse.”

The occupants of the table said nothing as they watched the boss stand, walking around the room until he came to a portrait of himself and moved it to reveal a safe hidden behind. This wasn’t much of a shock to anyone, there was a safe hidden behind most of the portraits in the house, but no one had the gall quite yet to tell Crimson they were not as well hidden as he seemed to believe.

He unlocked the safe, being sure to keep his body between it and the rest of the room so no one would see the combination, and removed something swiftly before he locked and hid it again. Crimson made slow deliberate steps back to his seat, enjoying the way they waited for him to reveal what it was he’d retrieved.

He sat down and, waiting for a moment as they all stared, finally placed the tiny vial of lemon-yellow liquid on the table in front of him. Around him, there were confused blinks and looks exchanged with discreet shrugs as they shared their bemusem*nt. Only one at the table actually recognised the vial for what it was.

“Is that-?” Striker’s green eyes widened in shock as questions ran through his mind, the most prominent wondering just how in hell Crimson had managed to get his hands on something as rare as that!

“’Holy Tears’” Crimson smirked at him, having detected the astonishment in the normally stoic assassin's tone, though he added an explanation in a more irritated tone for those at the table who still seemed clueless, “A synthetic version of angelic energy some genius cooked up into a poison that even works on hells royalty. Pity they killed him for it, of course. But I managed to procure a small amount.”

“What’s it do?” the burly shark demon asked, staring at the vial on the table like it might jump up and bite him.

“Supposedly it attacks the energy of a demon itself” Crimson said, though he’d never actually used it himself – he had seen it used though, when the maker had tested it on a random demon to prove its authenticity. The low-level demon had writhed in pain, screaming in agony, until eventually succumbing. Supposedly it would not affect more powerful demons, such as royalty, the same – but… “A few drops of this in the little princess’s drink should incapacitate her just long enough for us to strike.”

Around the table demons laughed and jeered, praising their boss's genius, while Striker remained quiet – but he smirked. So Crimson planned to poison the princess? Fine. He doubted it would go as smoothly as they seemed to think (it never did after all) but the chances were it would be enough of a distraction for him to snatch the Goetia girl. He’d just have to wait for Crimson to make his move… and then he’d make his.

XXXXXX

Sat in the high-backed chair he’d come to favour, Alastor watched as Charlie slept, Razzle still cuddled into her side. He was vaguely aware of how creepy he was to watch her as she slept, however, he argued that it was for the benefit of her health. She had a head wound after all.

He noticed every twitch and every change to her breathing, perfectly attuned should something change, yet his mind could not help but mull over the details of her attack – the small tears his claws had made in the arms of his chair that allowed the stuffing to poke through evidence of his lingering fury.

Not that he’d spent the last few hours just watching her, no, that really would be too far. He rested, a light doze here and there while sitting up in his chair in an attempt to recuperate the energy he lost exercising so much magic that morning. Thankfully when he’d looked in the bathroom mirror the gold lines of the poison had not grown any worse than they had been when he woke. He’d even ordered room service, plenty of rare meat for himself and a few choices he thought Charlie might like to eat once she finally woke.

A noise outside the door made his ear twitch. He presumed it was someone going by on the way to their own room, yet when the noise did not seem to pass he began to get annoyed. Surely it was well known by now what had happened this morning? The least they could do was keep it down so the princess could get some rest!

Alastor waited a few minutes but when the noise did not pass he let out an irate growl and decided to get up and shoo (or threaten) whoever it was in the hall. The last thing he expected when he threw open the door was to find six of the seven deadly sins apparently bickering amongst themselves in whispers right outside the room. All six paused to stare when he opened the door, he felt his ear flicker again, but made the decision to step out into the hall and let the door fall shut with a click behind him – though he gave the mental command for his shadow to remain in the room and watch over her.

“If you are here to see Charlie, I’m afraid she is still resting” he told them, hands held behind his back.

“Is she okay?” Ozzie asked, worry etched into all three of his faces.

“She appeared confused, and somewhat upset, but mostly whole – if not a little sore.”

“Which reminds me,” Belphagor – looking rather alert rather than half asleep as she normally did – began patting the pockets of the lavender cardigan she wore. She seemed to find what she was looking for, goat ears waggling a bit and handed Alastor a jar filled with red tablets. “Charlie and her father usually require something a lot stronger than what I usually make to actually help with the pain, so I whipped up a quick batch this afternoon.”

Alastor accepted the jar with a somewhat dubious expression, tucking it into his pocket, he thought about telling her the painkillers she’d already given them seemed to have worked well enough but decided it would be a moot argument. Charlie trusted the sins, and for the most part from what he had seen they seemed to want the best for her too, so he would let her know and accept her judgement.

Satan cleared his throat, though his tone was heated as he asked “Has she said anything about the attack?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Alastor tucked away the information that they too had come to the conclusion this had not been a mere accident. However, before he could grace the question with any kind of answer, movement at the other end of the hallway caught his attention. He glared as Vox and Velvette rounded the corner, apparently muttering between themselves, only to freeze upon seeing the corridor crowded with the Sins and Radio Demon all watching them. Velvette was the quickest to recover from the surprise, gripping Vox’s arm and dragging him back the way they had come – all the while he glared at Alastor with barely concealed hatred.

“Don’t need to be the Sin of Envy to detect the jealousy there” Leviathan was the first to speak again, raising his eyebrow at Alastor. “Any chance they-?”

“-Possible, but I doubt it” Alastor hummed, though he kept his glare fixed on Satan. “An attack from the Vee’s would most likely be aimed at myself rather than the princess.”

“Could she have been attacked to get to you?” Bee questioned, frowning.

“Unlikely,” Alastor grit his teeth, “It would be more probable to assume the attack had something to do with this morning's discussion, given it took place directly after.”

Alastor guessed the sins must have come to a similar conclusion, given the way five of them turned to glare at Satan without another word. Satan himself seemed to expect it, giving a sigh, “It was not my intention to draw any kind of target towards Charlie.”

“We all know that,” Ozzie said, resting a hand heavily on his shoulder “but you were a bit harsh – and you know your temper has an effect on those around you.”

“But was he wrong?” Leviathan muttered, “We all love Charlie and her dreams, but we know better than anyone that Heaven has its own rules, and it’s rather unforgiving, even if redemption was possible I doubt they would allow her to succeed.”

“We can’t assume that just because of what happened to us, Levi” Bee insisted, “maybe they’ve changed – after all, we did!”

Not entirely certain they hadn’t forgotten he was present, Alastor listened to the bickering with slight interest – after all, he’d heard the rumours of what the sins were supposed to be, some said they had been born of hell's most basic sin at the same time this place had come into existence, but another theory said that they where angels who fell just like Lucifer. He’d never really cared, it didn’t matter much, yet here he was getting confirmation on a theory he’d never bothered looking for an answer to. standing in that hallway, the radio demon blinked, for a moment certain he’d gotten a glimpse of the shining white-blue figures the Sins had once been when they had their heavenly forms.

“If we are going to argue about this then perhaps we should leave the hallway” Bel said, tone stern, “Charlie has had quite the day and needs her rest, not to listen to you bickering.”

They grumbled in agreement, each of the sins filtering away from the room one by one. Alastor tried not to react when two – Beelzebub and Asmodeus – gave him a once over from head to toe, then walked away snickering with their heads close together as they muttered to each other. Belphagor saw this and rolled her eyes but said nothing. Surprisingly it was Satan who lingered, shaking his head, and looked at Alastor.

“Ignore them,” said the Sin “But may I offer a word of advice?”

Alastor couldn’t drop his glare, voice dripping derision as he answered “Who am I but a lowly sinner to turn away the advice of a Sin?”

Satan raised his eyebrow and chuckled at the sinner's gall. He’d already been impressed with the demon choosing to defend Charlie that morning, angry as he’d been at the time, he’d thought perhaps it was done only to impress her – the fact he continued this blasé attitude without her around to see was refreshing. So many demons were afraid to stand up to a sin.

“If you cannot shake off this fury you feel, might I suggest a visit to the Lodge’s rage room?” Satan said.

“Rage room?”

“Do you think we get through these gatherings without a place for demons to let out their agitation without actual infighting?” Satan scoffed “No. We have places to let out our anger, I suggest you take advantage before you do something foolish instead. Or, perhaps speak with Charlie herself about what is on your mind – even I must admit the girl has the most peculiar way of soothing one's agitation. Even when she was small.”

Alastor watched with narrowed eyes as Satan began to shuffle away, though it probably should not have disturbed him that the Sin of Wrath would sense his anger, still, he tensed a little when Satan paused once more to look over his shoulder.

“Of course, if you would prefer to spar I would not be opposed.”

He did not bother to wait for Alastor’s answer, following the rest of the sins down the hall, leaving the deer demon behind to watch them go wondering what he had done for such peculiarity to befall him. He had not garnered any new information from them regarding the attack, only that they too did not think it an accident, and from the looks of things they didn’t seem to know any more than he did. Pity.

Odd encounter at an end and the hallway once more empty, Alastor allowed himself to scowl as he re-entered the room, doing his best to open the door and slip in as quietly as possible.

He need not have bothered, his eyes flickering towards Charlie immediately only to find her sitting up in the bed with her stray hand petting Razzle. Her ruby gaze fell on him immediately, and he noted the dark circles under her eyes despite having slept a good few hours and the way she gave a slight wince when she tilted her head towards the sound of the door.

“Tsk,” he hid his surprise behind a hiss, arching an eyebrow at her reaction “Perhaps before we teach you any kind of combat, my dear, a lesson in developing your situational awareness is called for.”

“Sounds good,” Charlie murmured in reply, she would have rolled her eyes but she wasn’t convinced that wouldn’t hurt too, “but can it wait until after my head stops pounding?”

“Ah, your aunt suggested that I give you these,” he remembered, pulling the jar of little red pills out of his pocket and striding across the room to hand it to her. Charlie looked confused at first, but when her gaze landed on the jar she brightened considerably and took it from his offered hand.

“Great, the other stuff is okay but…” Charlie gave a one-shouldered shrug, holding the jar, and fixed him with a look, “So did anything happen while I was asleep?”

For a moment Alastor thought that maybe he was wrong, that she had not been asleep at all when he slipped out to the balcony earlier and had witnessed his anger, perhaps even heard his one-sided argument with her pet goat.

“What do you mean?”

Charlie noticed the way his eyes widened, she explained: “W-well, I just thought you would be out hunting down whoever attacked me and, well, y’know… same way you do whenever someone ‘attacks’ the hotel.”

Though he played it fast and loose with the term ‘attack’ when it came to the hotel, considering the last time had involved petty vandalism when a bunch of demons had spraypainted a less than flattering image of herself on the wall with some unpleasant words to match. She’d gone out to scrub the wall clean – Alastor had tracked down the vandals and made his own ‘art’ with their blood and viscera to warn others off. Her nose wrinkled at the memory. They’d had quite the argument after that, or rather she’d argued and he’d smirked.

He gave a sharp laugh, head thrown back and all, and explained “Oh, my dear, as much as I was tempted I’m afraid the honour of devouring your cowardly attackers this time go to your little pet.”

Charlie’s gaze dropped to the Razzle still stretched out beside her legs, who blinked back up at her with his tongue poking adorably from between his lips. her eyebrows raised but she didn’t say anything, giving another shrug after a moment of watching him and petting him once more.

“Thank you, by the way… for defending me this morning” Charlie said without looking at him, “I know you still don’t actually believe I can redeem anyone, but you defended my dream anyway so… thank you.”

Clearing his throat with a fist to his lips, Alastor looked away from her. “Not at all my dear, I am simply a firm believer in a fair fight, though I must say you were holding your own rather well.”

“Yeah, right up until I ran away and someone decided to knock me out” she grumbled, gingerly touching the side of her head where the cut had scabbed beneath her hair.

“Well, you can hardly be held responsible for the foolish decisions of others.”

“Yes I can,” Charlie grumbled, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them as she pouted, the movement causing Razzle to be dislodged from his spot by her legs and almost fall off the bed, “they were all right, if I had never started all this-“

“-then you would not be the Charlie we all know and adore” he interrupted, bending slightly so he could fit his fingers beneath her chin and drag her gaze back up to his, “no pouting now, my dear, your smile is far more fetching. We will simply have to work on this issue you have regarding who to trust and who not.”

Gaping at his words, Charlie moved her chin to dislodge his fingers and fought the urge to blush. It wasn’t the first time he’d attempted to assuage her moods with flattery after all, this was no different. Deciding to ignore it, and focus on the last part, she replied with a roll of her eyes, “What do you mean? I don’t have trust issues!”

“Oh don’t you?” he chuckled, raising his eyebrows “Did you not allow myself, an infamous master of chaos and death if you will, into your precious hotel?”

“Only after you promised to help us, no tricks or voodoo strings attached!”

“And did you not trust that heaven would want to assist you, going so far as to attempt to make your case not once but twice even after Adam laughed you off?”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“My point, sweetheart, is that you have this uncanny - and frankly rather dangerous – ability to only ever see only the good in people” he shook his head as he turned away, adding quietly, “Even when they are so obviously undeserving of such a kindness.”

“So you just don’t want me to trust anyone then?” she deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“Now, now, don’t go putting words in my mouth. I only mean that you could stand to be more cautious. It pays to have an alert mind and a sharp gut.”

She picked at the blanket still covering her knees, “I don’t know, treating everyone like they might be a danger, that doesn’t sound very nice Al’. How am I supposed to convince demons to give the hotel a chance if I’m also acting like they might stab me in the back the second I turn around?”

“Again, not what I mean.” He sighed, turning back to face her as he tilted his head in an attempt to think of a way to better describe his meaning. “Ah! Think of a deer in the forest, the animal will not be felled by the hunter if it is already aware the hunter is there. Unfortunately, a good hunter aims to remain undetected, which makes that much more difficult for the deer.”

Charlie frowned at him, “Assuming I am the deer in this scenario – ironic, by the way - just how am I supposed to know the hunter is there?”

“Why, with practice of course! Did you think I learned overnight?”

She almost smiled when he threw his arms out dramatically with his statement. He was rather amusing, even now when she did not particularly feel like laughing, but Charlie fought to keep her expression serious as she asked, “And how do you practice something like that?”

“Hmm, well I learned through years of avoiding those who would cause me harm – both in life and death – but I’m not certain I'd recommend the method” he grinned at her.

“I’m surprised,” she scoffed “I thought you’d be all for throwing someone into dangerous situations and seeing if they survived or not.”

“Maybe, but not you” he shrugged, giving a click of his fingers “Now, how about some food, my dear, I imagine you are quite famished having slept the day away.”

His shadow sprang up beside the bed, this time carrying a silver tray on which was stacked a large pile of chocolate chip pancakes, a bowl of fruit, and a tall glass of apple juice. It laid the tray across her lap and gave a slight bow, while Charlie thanked it with a bewildered look, though the moment she caught the scent of food her stomach let out a loud and rather embarrassing growl. Alastor didn’t say anything, though he definitely heard it, and she chuckled awkwardly while popping a large strawberry in her mouth.

“Your shadow looks funny” she commented instead, chewing as she pondered the shadow on the wall, which put its hands on its hips as it looked at her with what was possibly supposed to be outrage. It was hard to tell when it didn’t have a face.

Alastor stiffened at the comment but did not deny it. “Astute as always, Princess. I used rather a bit more of my power than I should to get you to safety this morning. What you see is the shadow's weaker form.”

Chewing on a piece of pancake, Charlie tilted her head and fixed him with a narrow gaze as she gave him a look up and down as if to check he was in one piece. Of course, she remembered him using his powers to transport them to the room this morning, she also remembered him almost collapsing when he did, but there didn’t seem to be any pain to his expression at the moment – she supposed it was a good thing she’d given him one of her apples before they left the room that morning. He did seem tired, however, with dark circles under his eyes, so she patted the bed beside her to invite him up to rest – though he only quirked an eyebrow at the action.

“Oh come on, it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before at this point” Charlie rolled her eyes, adding teasingly “I promise, I won’t tell anyone, not even about the cuddling.”

“As if anyone would ever believe you anyway,” he retorted with a sniff, turning away from her. Charlie thought for a second she’d pushed him a little too hard, so she was surprised instead when he removed his jacket, draping it over the top of the sofa, and made his way to settle beside her on the other side of the bed – though she did notice with a touch of amusem*nt he stayed almost at the very edge, what was he afraid she’d pounce on him or something? Suppressing a chuckle she continued to eat her pancakes, while he picked up the book he’d fallen asleep reading the night before from the bedstand.

After a few moments of peace, in which Charlie finished her meal – the empty tray taken from her lap by his shadow the second she put her cutlery down – she contemplated before she asked;

“Hey, Al’, I’ve been wondering… what happened to your microphone?”

He blinked hard at the unexpected question, considering he’d been without it for four months and no one else had bothered asking. Still, he did not look up from his book as he answered, “It broke.”

“Oh no! Can’t you fix it?”

“I…” his lips tightened into a tin line, though still a smile, thinking on how to explain, “It’s not so simple. The microphone was, is, more than a simple accessory you understand. I created it to hold more magic than I could in myself, you see, and when it broke… that power was released, and not towards anything useful mind you – such a waste! And drained as I am right now…”

“… you can't fix it yet” she nodded in understanding, mildly impressed at his creativity, storing excess magic in it as he had. Depending on how much magic he’d had stored in it at the time, he may never have needed her help with the poison, had it not been broken. It also explained the odd feeling in her fingertips when he’d offered it to her back in Cannibal Town, like electric teasing across her skin, how had she not realised what it was when she held it in her hand? Probably because she was so used to the way his power felt across her skin whenever he used it around her. “Well, maybe I could try? Fix it, I mean? I’m pretty powerful, even if I don’t have a lot of experience, so you’d have to show me what to do…”

Alastor contemplated her offer for a moment, intrigued by the possibilities, but after a moment gave his head a shake, “A kind offer, but I must decline. Thank you, however.”

Unfortunately, he could not count that Charlie’s magic would not affect what was left of his in the microphone, and while that could very well boost how own power, there was also the chance it could affect it In unprecedented ways considering she seemed uncertain of how own abilities.

Charlie frowned, not certain why he’d decline her offer, and was about to argue when he surprised her,

“Loathe as I am to admit this, my dear, but perhaps it would be a good idea to call your father.” Alastor cut across when he saw she was going to argue with him, the words tumbling from his lips despite his grimace at the very thought.

Completely distracted by his sudden suggestion, Charlie turned to look at him, more than aware the two did not get along and asked, “What, why?”

“Because you were attacked, dearest, and I suspect that is something he would want to know about. Besides, are you not only here to cover his responsibilities? It’s been made clear that you are not safe here. The sooner he returns the sooner we can go back to the hotel.”

“I hardly think that one attack means I’ve got a target on my back” Charlie tried to play off with a shrug and wave of her hand, “I’m sure we can-“

“-Charlie, had I the strength I would have taken us right back to Pentagram city itself,” he told her seriously, “one attack is more than enough in my book. Call him, he should be here anyway.”

“He’s meeting with heaven,” she grumbled but retrieved her phone from the bedside table and held it in her hands for a moment as she considered. She was completely certain that, if he could, her father would be here. Even in previous years when he had seemed so utterly disinterested in his domain he had still attended these meetings. Besides it wasn’t like she told him every time someone tried to attack her, every stone thrown or every attempt to snatch her off the street. But something in Alastor’s tone… his utter sincerity, that had he been able to remove her from this place completely he would have…

Her head still hurt but she tried to think back on the attack regardless. She remembered pain, the feeling of hitting the ground – one of her hands had fallen into the boiling lake, the blistering water licking at her skin with little more effect than smoke – and Razzle’s roar of anger… and voices. If she strained, she definitely heard voices, as in more than one. Maybe three? Which meant more than one person had attacked her… and they had no idea if Razzle had gotten them all.

Alastor watched her from the corner of his eye, her emotions passing across her features with every thought that went through her mind that – though he wasn’t privy to the specifics – gave him enough of a clue as to what she was thinking. He smirked a little when he finally saw her fingers tap over the screen of her cell phone, lingering over her father’s name for a moment before she finally hit dial.

Charlie rested the phone against her ear and listened to it ring for a few moments until finally, it went to voicemail. She wished she could say that was odd, though he had been getting much better lately about actually answering her calls.

“Hey, um, hi dad! I just wanted to call and… um… to check in! Things are going well at the Conclave! Or, well… they’re sort of okay. So, it turns out a lot of demons aren’t really happy with me right now… starting a war with heaven and all that. A-and it kind of got physical – I’m okay though, just a bump to the head, nothing serious haha-”

Alastor listened to her voicemail with a raised eyebrow and a slightly judgemental look when she completely glossed over the seriousness of the attack – but she only stuck her tongue out when she caught his look and continued.

“-so, hope your meeting with heaven is going well! Um, try and get here quickly, please? Love you, bye!”

She ended the message quickly after that, but kept her phone in her hand, giving it a perturbed look.

“My dear?” Alastor asked after she did not look up or say anything, just continued staring at her phone.

“Al’, what if they were right?” she turned on him with wide eyes, “w-what if the meeting with heaven was just… just a trap? What if they’ve captured my dad and that’s why he’s not answering or why he hasn’t come back yet?!”

“Because no one in their right mind would want to take Lucifer as a prisoner” he retorted, only slightly joking “The man is far too irritating for that!”

“Alastor” she whined.

“Okay, how about this – as much as abhor the man, I will admit that he is powerful. One of the most powerful beings to have fallen from heaven, as such, I imagine they would have a very hard time of it keeping him against his will. Not to mention that when you consider the fact the exterminations only began because heaven feared a rebellion from Hell, well, it would be foolish to provoke one by stealing their king now wouldn’t it?”

“I… I suppose that makes sense” Charlie sighed, rubbing her throbbing temples and wincing them it pulled on the wound to her head. She gave him a grateful look anyway, “Thanks, Al.”

“Whatever for?”

“Knowing just what to say before my thoughts spiral out of control.”

She gave him a sweet smile, one he found himself reflecting back to her until he caught himself, clearing his throat as he looked away quickly. She didn’t seem to notice his reaction, back to rubbing her head again.

“Take your medicine, Charlie.”

The princess obeyed his suggestion, reaching for the jar of red tablets Belphagor had passed along, swallowing them with the last mouthful of apple juice before placing the glass back on her nightstand. It would take a few minutes to kick in of course, but she knew when it did she’d feel terribly drowsy again, so she shuffled back on the bed again and rested her head on the pillow, watching Alastor as he continued reading his book out of the corner of her eye.

It was peculiar to see him so relaxed, not that she wasn’t pleased to see it, only that she rarely did. Before this trip, the only time she’d never once seen him remove his jacket, only roll up his sleeves that day the air conditioning in their shared office broke, which made her wonder if he would continue to be so relaxed once they returned to the hotel. Probably not, or at least, definitely not around the others… but maybe just with her? The idea that he would continue to be this way with her made her smile, a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. That she’d know a side to him so few others did, she really hoped it didn’t stop when they got back.

Alastor continued to read as Charlie dozed beside him, aware her drowsiness was most likely the medicine taking effect, he still startled slightly when she suddenly rolled and shuffled closer to him, her head now resting against his thigh. When he glanced down at her, red was just barely visible under her half-lidded eyes, a soft smile playing upon her lips. He watched her with wide eyes and swallowed, his hand leaving his book to smooth a loose strand of her hair from her cheek. She gave a contented hum at his touch, enticing him to run his hand through her gloriously soft locks once more, staring when her eyes fell shut under his strokes. He suspected that if she were a cat she would have purred.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, combing his hands through her long hair, his claws slicing through the ties she’d used to keep it back and letting it flow loosely over her shoulder, though he was mindful not to get too close to the spot near her ear where she’d been hurt. He would not lie to himself, he’d had thoughts of what it might be like to run his fingers through her hair on the odd occasion, usually on very late nights in their shared office when she’d let it loose while puzzling out expense reports. He’d watch as she shook her long hair out, wondering at its length and just how she managed it, if it would be as soft as it looked, if it smelled as good up close as it did when she caught a waft of her vanilla shampoo when she shook it out.

He paused with a frown upon realising that, yes, he’d had that particular thought more than once… in fact, it wasn’t the only one. He’d caught himself gliding his thumb across her wrist when he held her hand dancing, wondering if her skin was as soft everywhere, he remembered that time she’d been doing repairs one of the times their front wall was blown apart (he was of the opinion next time it happened they should just install a door) and he’d found her in the lobby completely alone with her blazer and bowtie removed, hair twisted into a messy bun, and the top buttons of her white shirt undone with the sleeves rolled up her arms. She must have been working for a while, hammering boards over the hole, and it was hot. She had no idea he was watching her, a bead of sweat had trickled down her temple over her jaw and along her pale exposed throat. He’d wondered if her skin would taste salty, or would it be sweet?

At the time he’d pushed such a startling thought aside and merely dismissed it as the urge to quite literally devour her, as he had done countless other demons, but he was beginning to accept that Rosie had been right, he didn’t just care for Charlie. He was attracted to her, he had been for longer than he cared to admit.

He had no idea what to do with that realization.

When was the last time anyone had ever caught his eye? Truthfully, never! Oh yes, he’d had his fair share of experiences back when he was alive, he was a young man and curious by nature after all, but he’d never gone as far as to initiate the few encounters he had indulged in. And now, of course, his attention would be captured by the literal princess of hell of all people. The only shining star in this bleak hell. The kindest soul he had perhaps ever met in either his life or death. And he wanted her.

Now, he was not normally a man who would hesitate to go after the things he wanted, but this time… well, he wasn’t quite sure where to go from here. But there was someone he could ask.

He glanced down at Charlie still pressed against him a moment before he began to shuffle off to the side of the bed. She gave a small groan of protest that made him freeze, scowling adorably in her sleep, but when she didn’t wake he stood completely and walked over to the sofa to retrieve his jacket. He tugged it on, catching Razzle watching from where he sat on the cushions.

“I’m trusting you will watch over her, little fellow?” he raised an eyebrow at the goat, who nodded vigorously in response, even raising a clawed paw in salute. Even so, he left his shadow behind, even in its weaker form it would inform him should anything happen while he was gone.

He passed no one in the halls, though he could hear a few of the more rowdy occupants of the Lodge as he passed numerous rooms, making a hasty route to Rosies. It probably should have occurred to him the late hour, but he didn’t realise until it took a few moments after knocking on her door for her to answer, and when she did her hair was in a net and she had a robe thrown over her long night dress.

“Alastor?” the other overlord rubbed some sleep from her eyes, blinking at her unexpected guest, “Oh my, come in. How is our dear Charlie?”

“She’s awake, or rather she was awake, she’s resting again now” he answered, then gave his head a shake, “but that’s not why- I came here because I have been thinking over what you said this morning, and I have come to the conclusion that you may have been correct.”

“What I said this morn-oh!” Rosie was puzzled for a moment, tying the belt around her robe tighter now it seemed as if he would be here to stay for a while, though her eyes went wide when she realised what he was talking about.

“’ Oh’ indeed” he agreed grimly.

“Well don’t look so morose, darling, it clashes with your smile. Besides, after today I suspected you would have a very difficult time denying it much longer. You’d have to be blind as a bat not to you see you care for her.”

Sitting in one of the chairs she indicated, Alastor dragged a hand over his face. He certainly hadn’t wished for that, but in the moment it had not mattered to him the stares of others as much as getting Charlie out of danger had.

“And I suppose the Vee’s have made it back to the top of your, and pardon my French, but I believe the term is ‘sh*t-list’.” Rosie continued without noticing his reaction, busying herself with preparing cups of herbal tea with the small tea set in her room.

“The Vees?” he sat forward, intrigued “why? Do you know if they were involved in the attack?”

“The attack? Oh, no, no, no, darling” she turned to him, shaking her head, then tilted it with a look of realisation “Ah, apologies, I do sometimes forget your avoidance of modern technology. Though I really do wish you would get a phone, Alastor, it would be so much easier to reach you…”

He said nothing, not willing to once again have the argument on why he would not be purchasing one of the ridiculous brain-numbing devices everyone seemed so enamoured with, but when Rosie retrieved hers and gave the screen a few taps before showing it to him, he graced it with a glance. What he saw made him grab the phone with both hands so he could pull it closer and be certain he was seeing what he thought he saw.

It was a photograph taken after the attack of himself and Charlie, though he could not say exactly when, but the way he was cradling her against his chest, her head turned into him so the camera could not see the bloody wound to the side of her skull, and the way he was looking at her… he knew for a fact he’d been burning with rage when this photo was taken, and yet, the way he gazed down at her was soft. They looked like lovers caught in a moment – which is exactly what the headline of the article stated they were, as it read in large block letters ‘SCANDAL: NOTORIOUS RADIO DEMON ROMANCES HELLS PRINCESS!’

Alastor looked up, blinked, then looked down again – but no, neither the photo nor its headline had changed.

“Tabloids are, as usual, the most ignorant form of gossip” Rosie rolled her eyes, setting a cup of chamomile tea in front of him and taking the phone from his loose fingers.

“I don’t… why… what?!” he spluttered.

“The Vees, darling” Rosie explained sitting opposite with her own cup, “their website published it around lunchtime. Honestly, when you knocked on my door this evening I thought this is what it would be about.”

“No!” he scowled in protest “why would-“

“-defamation is a fabulous tool when used correctly, I’m afraid. Carmine told me the Vees were bothering Charlie earlier, perhaps this is retaliation of some kind? Though, I rather suspect it may have been aimed at you, dear.”

Of course, it was aimed at him! It seemed more likely that this was one of Vox’s ideas, it was just like the pompous bastard to show his hand so tauntingly, Alastor thought. Vox wanted him to know that he knew of his affection for Charlie, knew he could use her to get to him…

He hadn’t even realised he was growling, rising out of his seat, until Rosie spoke up her hand reaching out to grab his arm but not quite touching, “Alastor, dear, there’s nothing you can do about this right now – even you can't erase what’s online unless you want to cause another blackout, but even that would only be temporary. Besides, it would only be rising to the Vee’s bait. You’re better than that.”

“It’s not about me, Rosie” he snapped at her, though he did sit back down, his large ears were pinned against his head and his smile was a twisted snarl, “do you not understand what this means? Vox knows he can use Charlie to get to me! Not to mention when she sees this, she’s worried enough as it is right now what with this morning's revelations that her people are unhappy with her, getting attacked and worrying her idiot father is stuck in heaven's clutches!”

Sipping her tea, Rosie watched him as he ranted over the rim of her cup, and when he was done she couldn’t help asking softly, “You really do care for her, don’t you?”

He shut his eyes but admitted “…yes. It would appear that I do, that and more. That was why I came to you tonight, not for this ridiculous smear campaign, but for your advice.”

“Well, I do give good advice, go on darling.”

“I… I am begrudged to admit that you were right this morning when you suspected that I had grown not only feelings but an attraction to the princess. However, now that I am aware of it, I find I am uncertain how to proceed.”

“Colour me surprised, it’s not often you are so indecisive” Rosie chuckled ever so slightly, watching him take a sip from the cup she had made him, enjoying the face he made as she knew herbal teas were not exactly his favourite. “How do you want to proceed, darling? I can't help you until I know what we are working towards.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is do you wish to pursue the princess and explore these new feelings or do you want to move past them? Though, I should warn you, if you wish to move on the first thing you will have to do is move out of that hotel.”

He thought about it a moment. To move out of the hotel would only be a hindrance to the reason he was there in the first place, which wasn’t an option, feelings be damned. Besides, when he thought about going to what his life had been for the last seven years… to not hear Charlie’s mindless humming while she worked across from him in their office, or enjoy a drink at Husks bar at the end of a long day, or not being able to cook his mother’s recipes for the group to fawn over (even Vaggie enjoyed his cooking), he’d even miss Nifty’s co*ckroach puppet shows!

But mostly it’s her he would miss. Her easy smile, infectious laughter, sly humour. The bright spark of fire in her eyes when she got excited, the way she would burst into spontaneous song and dance when she felt the music calling her.

“I… I do not wish to leave, I have grown rather accustomed to my life there” he admitted with surprising honesty.

“But do you want to pursue Charlie?” Rosie pressed him.

“I’m not certain” he shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, he fell back into his usual cunning smile as he added, “I suppose I could use-“

“-ah, none of that” Rosie wagged a finger at him, “Alastor, I asked what you wanted so think with your heart – shrivelled up black thing it may be – and for once in your life put aside any thoughts of tricks of schemes. What do you want?”

“I don’t understand?”

“Alastor, do you actually enjoy spending time with Charlie?”

“Of course!”

“Would you like to spend more time with her?”

“I… yes.”

“Then why not attempt to court her?” she drained the last of her tea, watching him process that suggestion before she continued gently “However before you charge off the way you do when you get an idea, you should remember that her last relationship with the ex-angel, fell apart after lies where revealed. If I had to guess I would say that honesty in a relationship is something Charlie clearly values quite a lot! A make or break aspect if you will. My advice to you, since you sought it at this ungodly hour, is to be honest with her in your intentions.”

Alastor stared at her, scowling “Are you suggesting I have ever been anything but honest with her?”

“Not at all” Rosie shook her head, “I have never known you to be anything but brutally honest, however, you have a very sly talent for hiding the whole truth beneath half ones. Look, Alastor, I have no idea why you decided to pitch in with this hotel of hers but we both know you do not believe in redemption and you certainly aren’t there only for your entertainment, so I can only assume that you have some scheme going on in that brilliant head of yours.”

“So you believe I’m scheming and that I should tell Charlie so in order to pursue a relationship with her?” he snorted, unimpressed.

“I’m advising that you be as honest as you can possibly be with her” Rosie reiterated plainly, not rising to react to his tone, added “Besides, I doubt Charlie isn’t already aware that you have some other underhanded reason to be there, even if she has no idea what it is. She’s sweet, but she’s not a fool.”

Now that he did agree with. From day one it was an unspoken thing, the pair of them both aware that he had some other reason to be at the hotel, something he would not speak of. Charlie seemed to accept it, though he’d caught her watching him suspiciously a few times in the first week, while others treated him with open suspicion and hostility. He would not be surprised if her suspicion of his intentions had grown a little considering the deal he’d struck with her – though, it only made him wonder why she’d continue to trust him so completely if that were true.

“I suggest you take some time, dear, and really think about what you want – without any added benefits from whatever tricks you have up your sleeve. Just think of those as added bonuses later on.”

He still said nothing, merely gave her a slight nod and stood when he saw her hide a yawn behind her hand. He really had taken up enough of her time after all. “Thank you, Rosie, I believe this has been… helpful.”

“Not at all, dear, happy to help.”

Bidding each other goodnight, Alastor made his slow way back to the room he shared with Charlie, hands clasped behind his back as he mulled over his conversation with the other Overlord.

Did he want anything more from his relationship with Charlie? He had never had a partner before, of any kind, he had never considered anyone to be his equal in such a way as to warrant the term. Though he could admit to being somewhat curious of why people sought such connections, why they felt the need for them, he’d even read a dozen or so romance novels in the privacy of their office in hopes they might shed some light on why but he’d merely found them amusing – none of them seemed to answer his question, in fact, most of them seemed to be based solely on a physical attraction. Yes, he was physically attracted to Charlie too but… that seemed to have come later, only after he’d developed an interest in her for the demoness that she was rather than how she looked. Maybe he’d just done it backwards somehow.

Did he see Charlie as his equal? If anything, she was his opposite! The light to his dark, the good to his evil, the unwavering kindness to his unending maliciousness. However he’d never met anyone quite like her, the sheer passion she exuded in everything she did only ever seeming to stoke his own!

He supposed he could care for her but not pursue more… however, this would leave her open to pursue others – and he had no doubt there would be others, beautiful as she was – which did not sit right with him either. In fact, it made him want to tear the skin off the next person who so much as breathed in her direction…

But Rosie was right when she told him Charlie would require truthfulness for him. If he began anything with her and continued with his plan… but to be honest with her why he’d come to the hotel in the first place? Could he tell her?

As if sensing his thoughts the unseen stitches that tugged his lips into a permanent smile tightened, his lips becoming strained with the grin that they forced. He supposed that was a no. Even if he wanted to tell her, he couldn’t.

What use was it in the end anyway? All this worrying about what he should do only mattered on the basis that she too wanted something more from him, and what were the chances of that? The princess of hell, sunshine and rainbows personified, stooping herself so low as to be involved with a sad*stic, cannibal killer such as himself? No, the beast only got beauty in the fairytales (and even then, he was fairly certain it was Stockholm syndrome and not ‘true love’) but this was reality.

And in reality, the princess would never love the monster.

Chapter 10: Rosies in the Garden

Chapter Text

Charlie stretched as she woke, arms and legs stretched wide as her joints popped with a satisfied sigh, remembering only after she blinked awake that there was supposed to be another occupant in the bed.

She lifted her head to look but not only was Alastor not in the bed – and he definitely had been when she woke up in the middle of the night, once again on her back with half his limbs thrown over her and his face tucked against her throat – but he didn’t appear to be in the room at all. She buried the bubble of disappointment she felt, eyes landing on a red mug on the bedside table that still had steam rising from it. She grabbed it, raising it to her nose to breathe in the heady scent of coffee before she had a sip. Strong, with plenty of creamer and enough sugar to rot a tooth, just how she liked it. She smiled into the cup, only now noticing the familiar shadow cast against the wall despite its owner not being in the room.

“Oh, good morning!” she greeted his shadow with a little wave.

It waved back.

“Do I thank you for the coffee, or was that the non-shadowy Al’?” she tilted her head.

The shadow shrugged, appeared to think about it, then pointed at itself.

“Well, thank you! It’s perfect!” she chuckled, taking another long sip, she asked, “Do you know where Al’ is?”

The shadow mimed something, it took her a moment, but she managed to understand it was trying to tell her that he had gone to see Rosie – she almost asked why, but considering it couldn’t only communicate in mime, and she did not fancy what could be a terribly long game of charades, decided against it. It wasn’t like it was unusual either, Rosie had needed him for something yesterday morning too, perhaps they were having some trouble in cannibal town? She hoped not…

When Charlie had drank most of her coffee she decided it was probably a good idea to start getting ready for the day, passing what was left of her mug to Razzle when he climbed onto the mattress beside her, giving an excited bleat as he guzzled what was left of her coffee. She swayed just slightly when she stood, immediately light-headed, causing the shadow to immediately stand at alert with its arms out as if it could catch her. could it catch her? Huh, she’d have to ask Alastor about that…

“I’m okay,” she assured it, though she reached for the bottle of red painkillers Belphegor had dropped off the day before, taking half of a tablet so as to take off the edge without leaving her fuzzy. The shadow did not look convinced, hands on its hips and tilting its head. If it had a face, it would probably be frowning at her.

Charlie rolled her eyes and grabbed her towel from her suitcase, “Really, I’m fine, I promise. Just a little light-headed. I’m going to go and take a shower.”

She disappeared into the bathroom still getting the feeling the shadow disapproved of her being up and walking around, not that she could blame it. The side of her head still throbbed, though it was much duller than it had been yesterday, and she got a good look at her wound in the mirror for the first time as she waited for the water in the shower to heat up. The cut there was long, but thankfully did not look too deep or she’d probably have needed to cut her hair to have it tended to properly, and her pale skin now sported a lovely pink-and-purple bruise that just touched the sides of her face. All things considered, it could have been much worse, and Alastor had done a great job cleaning the blood from her hair – she knew from past experience that it could stain her pale blonde locks badly.

Thinking back on it now with a clearer head, she was surprised at how soft and gentle he had been as he helped her clean her wound and hair. She remembered him muttering sweet words of encouragement, his gentle fingers loosening the knots in her hair as he washed the blood away, pulling away when she made any kind of reaction to the pain and holding her gently. She smiled softly at the memory, stepping under the hot spray of the shower, and immediately winced when it caused the wound to sting.

Truthfully, if she had the choice, Charlie would have much preferred to spend the rest of the day curled up in bed ordering room service, watching bad TV and feeling sorry for herself – a somewhat bad habit she developed that she had no intentions of ever stopping, everyone had to have a vice, right? Considering this was Hell, she could have much worse ones. If she’d been at the hotel that’s probably exactly what she would have done. But they weren’t at the hotel, and here there were watching eyes and expectations she had to meet as the princess of Hell. She knew from the past that an attempt on her life was not an excuse to show weakness.

She washed and conditioned her hair carefully, hissing now and then when her fingers gazed over the wound, glad she’d taken that painkiller before she showered and praying she didn’t cause it to bleed again. Thankfully when she exited the shower and checked in the mirror there was no sign of blood, wrapping her hair up in a towel that she balanced as a turban on her head, and another around her body, she exited the bathroom in a plume of steam – only the freeze when realised Alastor had returned while she was in the bathroom.

He didn’t notice her immediately, too busy staring with an expression akin to horror at the coffee-fuelled Razzle who was practically vibrating where he sat on the bed still holding her mug, though when he turned and his crimson gaze landed on her that expression quickly changed to a wide-eyed one, static crackling.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon!” Charlie squeaked, holding the towel tighter, grabbing her clothes from her suitcase and dashing back into the bathroom before he could speak. When the door shut she couldn’t help but lean against it, dragging a hand down her face with a small groan. How embarrassing.

On the other side of the door Alastor continued to stare wide-eyed long after the door had slammed shut again, the unexpected image of Charlie fresh from the shower, her face flush from the hot water, beads of which still clung to her pale skin… that was not an image he would soon forget.

His shadow on the wall was laughing at him, quite literally doubled over as it held its stomach and pointed. He growled at it when he noticed, ears pinned to his head, not that it seemed to notice.

By the time Charlie re-emerged from the bathroom his shadow had sobered up and Alastor had managed to school his expression to something that should be more neutral, even if his traitorous mind did bring the image of her in a towel to the forefront of his mind the second his gaze landed on her again, he forcefully shoved it to the back of his mind in an attempt to focus on more pressing matters.

“Ah-hem,” he cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly before saying, “As glad as I am to see you up and about, my dear, I had expected you might want to stay in bed and rest?”

“I wish,” she groaned, followed by a chuckle as she moved to the vanity on the other side of the bed and began to tame her hair into her usual ponytail being extra careful around the injured side of her face. A little fire magic had dried her hair fast, probably the only use for her magic she’d perfected where she no longer set things on fire accidentally (and the few years she hadn’t, well, her hair had been much shorter). When she noticed him still watching her in the mirror, she added “I can't just hide away because someone tried to bludgeon me with a baseball bat.”

Alastor’s eyebrows rose, he was about to say he admired her attitude until she added;

“-Besides, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve been attacked. Unfortunately, it’s the less glamorous part of being a princess, haha. This isn’t even the worst injury I’ve ever had!”

She forced a laugh, though her heart really wasn’t In it, the tremor in her tone barely discernible to anyone who did not have such delicate hearing as he did. Before Charlie could blink he was standing directly behind her, his hands on her shoulders as he held her gaze in the mirror.

“My dear, give me the names of the fools who have dared lay a hand on you and I will make certain their next breath in the last,” he promised, tone low and deadly, smile baring his teeth at her from his reflection.

Charlie paused for a moment, hairbrush froze mid-stroke, uncertain how to take his response. After a few moments, she decided to laugh, dropping her gaze from his reflection and resumed brushing, deciding he was probably joking.

“Very funny, Al’” she said, “how are you feeling anyway, any pain?”

“No need to worry about me, darling” he assured, taking a step back after deciding against insisting she give him those names, he admitted, “I was able to procure some, shall we say, proper food from Rosie – I know you are not particularly fond of cannibalism, sweetheart, but It really does wonders when it comes to boosting one’s magic.”

“Wait, really?” he paused brushing her hair to actually turn in her seat and look at him.

“Of course! All sinner demons have some innate power, though not many manage to grow that power into anything substantial, but for those of us who have feeding on demon flesh is a very good way to give your own power a boost.”

“I didn’t know that. I thought the cannibals of cannibal town just, well, liked it” she admitted, wrinkling her nose.

“Most do, very few sinners manage to manifest any real power, even then it is usually the very old or those who make many deals” he explained, tilting his head as he grinned at her, “you know, for a princess who is quite literally hell-bent on helping sinners you do not seem to know an awful lot about them. We should work on that.”

“To be fair, I’ve not had a lot of luck making friends with sinner souls” Charlie defended, a tad embarrassed, “most just laugh me off the second I mention redemption or trying to help them at all! Or they’ll let me help them, and then I never see them again…”

“Well, speaking as a sinner, we did not end up in hell because we were terribly polite and friendly folks” he reminded her, noting the lingering look of disappointment at the mere memory of her past attempts, cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Mentioning things we should work on, I’ve devised a small task I’d like you to undertake so we can attempt to build upon your situational awareness…”

Interest piqued, Charlie tied the last band in her hair and took the folded note he handed to her from his breast pocket, though she frowned when she read it.

“Count the number of windows and doors? Count the number of people sitting and people standing?” she read some of the suggestions out loud, frowning, “How is this supposed to help me?”

“Everyone must start somewhere, my dear” he shrugged, “consider it an exercise in learning to observe your surroundings, once you get into the habit of it you will be able to take in the lay of a room with little more than a sweeping glance! Being aware of your environment can be a massive help when a situation turns dire – and observing people is always good practice. You can infer one's true intentions more often from their actions, their body language, than their words.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow as she re-read the list before lifting her gaze back up to the deer demon in front of her, observing the way his hands were clasped behind his back and he kept his gaze averted – ending up focusing on Razzle, still under the effects of coffee, currently chasing his tail in a desperate circle. For a moment she thought he looked rather uncomfortable, though couldn’t fathom why, and decided she was probably reading too much into it.

Hair dried and tied and the list tucked into her blazer pocket, Charlie asked if he was ready to head downstairs, and when he confirmed he was they left together. Alastor fell into step beside her, humming a tune she did not recognise, keeping his gaze straight ahead. She couldn’t help watching him from the corner of her eye a few times, gaze flicking to him automatically, she couldn’t help but feel like something was a bit off with him. Normally he’d walk too close their arms would bump together, or he’d be chattering animatedly about something and throwing an arm across her shoulders when something particularly excited him, making jokes. It wasn’t often he’d be so quiet, calm almost. She side-eyed him again, worried more than anything that he was in pain again. He hadn’t had an apple since yesterday morning, and he’d used a lot of magic since then, even if demon meat helped restore his own power the poison was still in his system.

The closer they came to the main hall, the more demons they began to see, distracted as she was it took Charlie a moment to notice the whispers and pointed stares in her direction. Because of course, being attacked would make her the subject of gossip. She swallowed thickly once she noticed the attention, doing her best to tune out the murmurs, her mind going back to the attack against her will. When she was on the ground, she definitely heard voices. Just how many had been involved in her attack? They knew Razzle had gotten at least one of the culprits, but had he gotten the others? Charlie’s hands curled into fists at her sides, claws digging into the palm of her hand to ground her racing thoughts as she realised that anyone here could have been behind the attack, anyone here could try and hurt her again.

Alastor was more than aware of the moment Charlie noticed the attention upon them, walking beside him with a stiff spine, her gaze grimly on the floor, and her hands clenched into fists by her sides. Though he was sincerely glad that she did not have as sharp hearing as he and thus could not make out some of the things said, it was taking all his willpower not to address some of them himself (though, he may have had his shadow tie together some shoelaces or cloaks mysteriously became entangled with furniture causing more than a few to trip and stumble when they moved). Yet, as he watched, her shoulders relaxed and her hands unclenched, Charlie lifted her chin to face straight ahead and he could see a smile on her lips – not her real smile, no he knew all her smiles, but he doubted anyone who did not know her very well could tell. He knew she was faking, and yet he could not help the little stab of pride her felt to watch her do it, knowing exactly why.

When they entered the hall Charlie did hesitate for a moment, having the urge to abandon her seat on the podium overlooking the rest and join Alastor with the other overlords at their table, but shoved it down hard. Besides it would likely only cause more trouble if she did, and each of the other groups would likely demand the same treatment so as not to seem as though she was favouring one over them. Anyway, she thought as she took her seat at the high table, this time sitting between her Aunt Bee and Uncle Ozzie, there was no chance either of them were going to allow anyone to harm her while she sat beside them.

“Char-char, how are you feeling, honey?” Bee asked, immediately reaching out to gently smooth some hair back and wincing when she saw the bruise.

“Yeah, baby girl, should you even be up?” Ozzie added, hovering over her.

“I’m fine,” Charlie assured them both with a real smile now, touched by their concern, “just a little sore, but I’m fine.”

“I-“ Satan cleared his throat on the other side of Ozzie, “-that is to say, we, are relieved to see you are okay.”

“Yeah,” Levi added further down the table, “we were all worried. However, Mammon did come up with some ideas on how to profit off your attack scarily fast! He wanted to-ouch!”

Charlie chuckled as Mammon slapped the back of Leviathan’s head, the pair of them beginning to bicker until Satan put a stop to it, beginning the morning meeting with his booming voice echoing across the hall.

The topic of the day seemed to involve Rips, interdimensional tears in the fabric of the seven rings that allowed illegal travel between them or even more rarely, between Earth and Hell. The Rips were a problem for several reasons, the biggest of which involved smuggling, there were also cases of sinner demons attempting to use them and being ripped apart by whatever magic it was that kept them isolated to the Pride ring, not to mention the issues the Rips to earth often caused. There had been more than one case of a demon accidentally stumbling through such a Rip, the theory was that most of Earth’s cryptid creatures were just lost demons, not to mention when creatures from Earth would stumble into hell. Rarely would it happen but sometimes humans stumbled into hell, and if they were found by the right authorities were swiftly sent right back and more than likely called crazy for the rest of their mortal lives, but usually it was the wildlife that stumbled into Hell – that was when things got more interesting. The longer earthly animals stayed in hell, the more hell’s magic corrupted them, turning cute fluffy bunnies into rabid killers with sharp teeth and wicked claws. Unfortunately, there was no known way to stop the Rips, they were as chaotic as hell itself was, appearing and disappearing without warning.

Satan started off preaching how the Rips were bad and discussing ideas on how to better track down and police them, but Mammon suggested that instead of policing the Rips they should toll booth them – make a profit off it if they can't prevent it happening. Charlie was only half listening, this was a topic that had been debated ever since she first started coming to these meetings, and whatever conclusion they came to it would no doubt be rediscussed next year too.

With boredom creeping in, but not wanting to be so obvious that she was only half paying attention, she decided to unfold the list Alastor had given her and try out his ‘observation’ exercises. She counted the windows and the doors, even the number of plants in the room. When she turned her attention to the crowd, counting the number of demons in the room, she began to notice the ones who were actually paying attention to the Rip’s debate and the ones who – like her – were only pretending to be interested. Some even looked anxious (she wondered if perhaps they had been using the Rips for more underhanded deals) while others like Carmine appeared to nod along with very serious expressions. Charlie wasn’t at all surprised Carmine would be interested, her blessed weapons were one of the most smuggled items in Hell, or at least that’s what Husk said.

Naturally, as she was already looking at the Overlords table, her eye was soon drawn to Alastor who sat at the furthest end beside Rosie. Charlie told herself she just wanted to check and see if she could see any hint that he might be in pain or feeling any sickness from the poison, but happened to catch him shooting a glare across his table towards Vox and the Vee’s who sat at the other end, the three of them whispering amongst themselves and looking worried. Hmm, now if she had to guess which of the overlords had been smuggling through the Rips, which three would it be…

Charlie leaned back in her seat, gaze falling back to Alastor, and who could blame her? He had always been rather interesting to watch, at least she thought so. In those early days when he’d first come to the hotel, she’d often find herself watching him, trying to determine if he was honest in his reasons for wanting to help with the hotel (she’d concluded that his excuse of being ‘bored’ was likely bullsh*t, but unless he told her his real reason she probably wasn’t going to be able to guess it either). Even now she’d still watch him whenever she got a chance and didn’t think anyone would notice.

Despite the smile always tugging at his lips she’d noticed his face really was very expressive, little changes in his eyes or the movement of his brow, though even after so many months she still often got it wrong when she assumed she knew what he was thinking. Privately she’d become determined to study these minute changes to his face in hopes one day she’d be able to know, despite his smile, what he was really feeling.

It helped that he wasn’t exactly bad to look at. Ashy skin that was marked by a few freckles you could only notice if you got close enough (and he’d invaded her space often enough that she had), a sharp jaw that was only emphasised by his smile. When he had a genuine smile, not his usual feral creepy one, she found it was often infectious – of course, it was normally accompanied by a stupid pun or joke. His hair had always drawn her attention, for weeks now she’d wondered if it was as soft as it looked, and now she knew its texture was more like fur than hair.

Her fingertips tingled at the memory, sick as he had been that first night even after he’d passed out, he tossed and turned with pained sounds until she’d begun running her fingers lightly through his hair and making soft comforting sounds. Al’ had calmed almost immediately under her ministrations, turning to bury his face against her side. Not that she’d minded of course, especially if it gave him comfort, in fact, she’d felt almost special – how many could claim to have seen the fearsome Radio Demon in such a state and lived to see another day?

He was taller than she was, he often used that to his advantage and attempted to tower over her, not that it had ever bothered her much. Taller and scarier demons than he had tried the same trick, she just sidestepped when she could. Sometimes she wondered what Al’ would do if she ever pulled the same trick on him, invaded his space, towered over him. Would he be mad, or would he get flustered? She knew he was athletically built even before she’d seen him with his shirt off, having had more than a few opportunities to feel what lay beneath the layers of his suits either during those random dances he was so fond of springing on her, or the few times she’d pushed him back on those days he decided her personal space was non-existent.

A throat cleared beside her and Charlie started, completely lost in her thoughts, realised she must have been staring for quite a while – long enough for Alastor (and apparently Bee and Ozzie, both snickering beside her) to notice, his crimson gaze meeting her ruby one with a slight quirk of his eyebrow and an amused smile. Aware she was blushing, Charlie forced herself to look away.

By mid-morning they had not managed to move the topic of the meeting beyond Rips, and by the end, the rest of the rings had agreed to double efforts to track down and guard them until they disappeared again while Mammon got permission to toll any that appeared in Greed for his own profit. Charlie’s head was beginning to throb a bit by the time it was all over and demons practically fled the boring atmosphere of the hall in favour of quite literally anything else. She’d tried to catch up with Alastor, only for him to disappear into the crowd before she could catch up with him, leaving her sighing in the foyer as disappointment settled like a stone in her stomach.

“That man, I swear, sometimes I could just throttle him” a voice spoke up beside her, making Charlie jump, though she relaxed when she realised it was just Rosie glaring with her arms folded. “Well, dear, would you perhaps care to take a walk through the gardens with me? I hear they have the most beautiful spider lilies!”

“I would like that,” Charlie smiled.

“Wonderful!” Rosie grinned widely, looping her arm through Charlie’s and guiding her towards the glass doors that lead out to the Lodge's garden. “So, darling, how are you feeling after all that mess yesterday?”

“I’m fine,” Charlie repeated the same answer she’d given when previously asked, “My head is a bit sore, but I’m in one piece.”

“Hmm,” Rosie side-eyed the princess, guiding them further into the garden until they came upon a stone bench. She nodded at Charlie to sit beside her, then after she looked around, fixed her with a more serious look, “We’re alone, dear, so tell me honestly – how are you really feeling?”

Charlie couldn’t help but swallow and turn her gaze away from Rosie’s rather intense one, focusing instead on a dragonfly that zoomed across the flowerbeds around them. Rosie waited patiently beside her, until finally she answered, “I… I guess, I mean, I’m definitely a little on edge. I can't really remember much, but I know there was more than one person there, but I don’t know if Razzle killed them all. Anyone here could be involved, but I’m supposed to smile and make nice and act like nothing is wrong!”

“There, there, darling, it’s alright” Rosie reached out and grabbed for Charlie’s hand, noticing the tears that gathered in the corner of the princess's eyes, though they did not fall just yet. “I know it must be difficult, but talking about how you really feel will help!”

Wiping at her face with her hands, Charlie snorted, “You would think after this long I’d be used to people trying to kill me.”

“Why would you ever get used to such a thing?!”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been attacked, or someone’s tried to kill or kidnap me. I’m Lucifer’s daughter, the literal Princess of Hell, even before I possibly started a war with heaven that alone put a target on my back.” The blonde rolled her eyes.

“My stars,” Rosie’s hand went to her chest “Is Alastor aware of this?”

“I told him this morning,” said Charlie, adding with a smile “he joked about killing anyone who’s ever tried to attack me.”

“Aw, bless your heart, you think he’s joking!” Rosie laughed.

“He has to be joking, right? He can't track down and kill everyone who ever hurt me!”

“Oh, he could” Rosie nodded seriously, but upon seeing how distressed Charlie looked she gave a small shrug and added, “But if you asked him not to then he probably won’t. Underneath it all he’s a simple man, darling. Whatever is his he will protect with very few shades of grey left for clemency.”

Charlie stiffened, fingers digging into the stone bench beneath them, she asked “Whatever is ‘his’?”

“Ah,” the overlord looked momentarily flustered, but quickly explained “I… I just mean your hotel dear, and the people in it! Surely you have noticed that, unlike the rest of the Overlords, Alastor does not hold a traditional territory as we do?”

She had noticed, but honestly, she’d assumed that he simply shared Cannibal Town much like how the three Vee’s all shared their territory. Charlie did not say this out loud though, not wanting to possibly offend Rosie, and simply nodded.

“You see, Al’s version of territory has more to do with people than it does with land. Souls he owns or can exploit, or even in rare cases those he actually cares about,” Rosie watched the princess slyly from the corner of her eye, noting the way her eyes widened just a fraction before she looked away. The overlord grinned, asking “Surely you fall under at least one of those categories, don’t you think princess?”

“Um, sure…?” Charlie frowned a little, not entirely sure why Roise sounded so amused.

Rosie chuckled just so slightly, utterly certain the blonde had no idea of the blush on her cheeks, but she had promised Alastor she wouldn’t interfere and changed the topic with a clear of her throat, “You know dear, if you are the target of attacks as often as you say, it is rather impressive you’ve remained so kind-hearted. Frankly, after all that I don’t think anyone would blame you if you wanted to watch Hell burn for what you’ve suffered.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, when it happens I do get angry” Charlie told her, leaning back every so slightly with an almost embarrassed smile, “and when I was young I had a terrible time controlling my temper, especially when I got upset, but I learned. I don’t like hurting anyone, the few times I did lash out left me feeling worse than getting attacked did honestly. Vengeance just isn’t my style.”

“No, it’s not particularly ladylike,” Rosie chuckled, Charlie joining in her laughter.

As their laughter died off Rosie observed the princess beside her keenly, noticing the way her gaze kept being drawn to the marshland beyond the Lodge’s garden, the way her fingers would pick at her clothes or drum nervously, she was clearly worried about something. It would be easy to blame her attack for the anxiety, but Rosie decided to take a stab in the dark that it was something else…

“You should not worry about him so much, you know,” the overlord said gently, “he can take care of himself.”

Charlie was no fool, turning to gape at the woman beside her, but she wondered exactly how she’d known her thoughts had turned to Alastor. She could deny it, play clueless, but that knowing grin on her face told her it would be stupid to try. Instead, Charlie sighed, “I know.”

And she did know, but she also knew Al’ was weakened right now – and she didn’t entirely trust him not to get into some kind of trouble forgetting his own limitations right now. It unsettled her that he’d disappeared after the meeting without so much as a word to her, much as he’d done the morning he was avoiding her, she couldn’t help but wonder if like that day he’d gone hunting again – even though he’d promised her he wouldn’t – especially now she knew demon meat helped boost his power.

“He’s just running an errand, it shouldn’t take too long” said Rosie, apparently reading her mind again.

Charlie only gave a slight nod in response, her mind still racing with all the ways he might end up getting himself killed, while Rosie watched her with narrowed eyes. Yes, she had promised Alastor that she would not meddle… but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give the princess a slight nudge, right?

“You know,” the overlord broke the silence again, “he seems much happier ever since he joined that hotel of yours. Happier than I’ve seen him in years, in fact!”

“I thought you hadn’t seen him in seven years?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, assuming Rosie had said this just to try and make her feel better.

“Well, no, I haven’t” Rosie agreed with a hum, “But I remember what he was like all those years ago. He was so angry, Charlie, honestly I’m glad you did not know him back then. It was so much worse after the Vee’s formed their alliance and he had that fight with Vox…”

“Husk mentioned he fought with Vox” Charlie tilted her head, hoping Rosie knew more.

“A terrible one,” Rosie nodded gravely “You see, before the Vee’s formed they were… well, they weren’t friends, but I suppose you would say business partners? Vox wanted to dominate the city's media industry, but Alastor was not so interested. I’m not certain what started the fight, honestly, it was a long time coming so I don’t know if there was an actual trigger so much as an accumulation of lots of little grievances, but I remember it. Almost demolished Cannibal Town, as well as a few other city blocks. Alastor would have won too, if Vox hadn’t gotten help from Valentino and Velvette at the last minute, the coward. If he’d just asked for help too, I’d have gladly assisted him, as would Zestial but he never asked us and we’d never be so rude as to insult him by stepping in like that. Sometimes I wish I would have, though, as that fight allowed the Vee’s to really cement their grip in the city.”

“Why wouldn’t he just ask for help?!”

“There’s a reason sinners are stuck in Pride, I think” Rosie chuckled unhappily, continuing “Alastor was absolutely hellbent on increasing his own power after that, making deals and devouring more and more sinners for their power, it was a rather dark time, dear, but then… it just stopped.”

“When he disappeared?” Charlie guessed.

“Yes, without a word to anyone, even his oldest friends!” Rosie sniffed, feigning offence.

“I mean, he was gone a long time, maybe he’s just… calmed down, since then?” Charlie suggested, though even as she said it she knew it didn’t sound right. Alastor was not the type to forgive and forget, especially if Vox cheated during their fight by calling reinforcements.

“I can see from your expression you don’t really believe that” Rosie replied, “no, I’m certain that being at your hotel has helped even if he won't admit it. Now, don’t you ever tell him I said this, but he really is something of a self-made misfit! He doesn’t really belong anywhere, not that he’s ever really tried to, but from what I’ve seen the same can be said for each of your hotel’s patrons. A cannibalistic deer demon both a gentleman and a cold-blooded murderer, a depraved p*rn star who craves love and comfort, the drunken gambler who wishes for stability, the princes of Hell who preaches redemption… none of you are as expected, but you all seem to accept each other as you are, I think – deep down -he needed that. Someone to simply accept him, regardless of his faults.”

Charlie had no idea how to respond to any of this, though she was surprised by Rosie's insights, considering she’d only spent a handful of days at the hotel before the battle as they went over their strategies. The way she spoke about them, it sounded almost like a family.

“I wonder where he went for seven years,” she decided to say instead, clearing her throat a little as she looked up into the red sky above, “you’d think it would be hard for someone like him to just disappear like that, right?”

“Honestly, I just assumed he went to his mother’s” Rosie shrugged.

“Wait, what?”

“What?”

“His mothers?” Charlie gaped, “You mean Alastor’s mother is here in Hell?!”

“Ah, I… I guess he hadn’t told you about that?” Rosie gave a nervous chuckle, dusting down her skirt as she chewed on her lip.

“No!” the princess practically shouted, “I mean, he talks about her, but from the way he talked about her I just assumed that she was in Heaven!”

“Oh, no, no, my… he’s just very much a mommy’s boy!” Rosie chuckled, knowing exactly how he would have spoken about his mother, “But believe me, she’s here. I’ve not had the privilege to meet her, but from what I understand she lives somewhere just outside of Pentagram City, but I won’t say more. You’d have to ask him if you want more information.”

Charlie was still reeling to know that Alastor’s mother – the woman he claimed to be the kindest and gentlest soul he’d ever known – had ended up in Hell, she did not notice when footsteps approached, both she and Rosie jumping in their seats when the very familiar voice asked;

“Well, now, what are you ladies talking about, hmm?”

Chapter 11: Failure to Communicate

Chapter Text

Alastor did feel a twinge of something, it might have been guilt, when he melted into the shadow to avoid Charlie shortly before she could catch up to him by the end of that tedious meet. Not too much, however, he had after all arranged with Rosie for her to conveniently spend time in the garden while he made sure certain problems did not become worse, so he knew she would not be alone too long. He lingered in the shadows long enough to see Rosie greet her, and then he was gone.

It did not take him too long to find his target.

Waiting for the precise moment to strike was not something he was unaccustomed to, patiently cloaked in the darkest corners, he followed Vox until he finally broke off from the rest of the Vees – the fact he’d done so to enter a public bathroom doing little to dissuade him from his mission.

Vox stood at the centre urinal whistling without a care as he unzipped his fly. Before he could go any further, however, black tendrils shot out of the wall and floor, wrapping around his limbs as he yelled, embolizing him completely as they flipped him upside down and turned him to face the rest of the bathroom.

Alastor stood by the door, a mocking grin on his face, hands clasped behind his back as he watched his victim struggle.

“What the f*ck!” Vox spat as he continued to struggle “Alastor, you perverted prick – cornering people in f*cking bathrooms, the f*ck is wrong with you?!”

“A very good morning to you as well, old friend” Alastor chuckled. As much as he would usually enjoy prolonging this, he could feel his power waning fast, a dull ache beginning along the wound still healing on his chest. “I simply wanted to speak with you regarding that interesting little article you published on the net regarding the Princess and I! Now, I give it a six out of ten overall, it was rather lacking and I failed to engage in the story at all! Not your best work, I must say, but an interesting piece of fiction. It's a pity you did not present it as such. I enjoy a bit of gossip as much as the next fellow, but I must draw the line at slander.”

“f*ck, that’s what’s got your panties in a twist?” Vox actually laughed, though he never stopped struggling, “It wasn’t even my idea, it was Val and Velvette who made up the stupid f*cking article! Why don’t you go grab them with your f*cking tentacles when they’re trying to piss?! Val’d probably like it!”

Alastor shuddered at the very thought, though he did not let Vox see how much the suggestion revolted him, he merely grinned even wider and leaned forward to tap his screen. “Now, now, is sharing the blame not part of your little partnership?”

“f*ck you!”

“How rude,” Alastor pretended to inspect his nails, the shadowy tendrils slamming Vox head-first into the tiled bathroom floor before lifting him up again. His screen had cracked slightly in the top right corner and his face glitched out twice before returning to normal.

“Alright, f*cking Christ, what do you want?” Vox yelled, struggling anew, “You want me to pull the article? Good f*cking luck, don’t you know anything about the internet you old bastard? Once it's out there, it's almost impossible to take it back, even if I wanted to!”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed, leaning closer to his flickering face, his best maniacal grin in place as he asked, “I want to know if you or the other Vee’s had anything to do with the attack on Charlie yesterday?”

Vox gaped for a minute, then burst into laughter, “You think that was us? sh*t, you’re stupider than you- ohf*ck!”

The television demon was slammed into the floor again, this time held down by the tendrils as his screen flickered from the blow worse than the first.

“Truthfully, no, I did not – but it never hurts to ask” Alastor grinned, turning away, adding in a tone that promised pain, “Pointless as it may be, you will remove that article regarding Charlie and I. Anymore and I will be back to do more than just crack your screen.”

He exited the bathroom swiftly, leaving Vox struggling to get up from the floor, and walked away swiftly before the foolish podcaster could do anything as stupid as chase after him. That little confrontation had probably cost him whatever power he’d regained having breakfast with Rosie this morning, he could feel the weariness weighing him down, but if Vox insisted he’d have no problem showing him just why he should not cross the Radio Demon. Besides, it was worth it if he got to confirm that the Vee’s had not been part of the attack, and hopefully, he’d gotten ahead of any more propaganda speculating the nature of his relationship with Charlie before she saw them.

Moreover, there was just something about knowing he’d likely f*cked up Vox’s day that always put him in a good mood.

Pep in his step, Alastor set about searching for Rosie and Charlie by heading towards the gardens where she’d said she’d take the princess for a walk. Nice as safe, near enough to the building that if trouble did find them help would not be far away, not that he did not trust Rosie should things go awry. The overlord was a fierce creature when she wanted to be.

He found them sitting on a stone bench between two large flowerbeds, apparently so absorbed in their conversation that neither of them noticed his approach! Alastor grinned to himself, pleased they were getting along, as well as with the opportunity to give them both a fright.

“Well, now, what are you ladies talking about, hmm?” he asked, standing behind them.

What he did not expect was for the pair to jump in their seats as they turned to face him with guilty looks, like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Alastor was just about to question it when Charlie – wide-eyed and twitchy – suddenly shouted;

“Taxes!”

“…taxes?” he repeated dubiously, arching his eyebrow as he looked down at the princess. Even Rosie was giving her an odd look.

“Um, yes, taxes!” Rosie leapt in, though she was absolutely certain he knew they were lying, continued, “We were discussing the raising taxes brought up during the first meeting!”

“Rather an odd topic for two dazzling ladies to be preoccupied with this fine morning?” Alastor pressed, still certain they were lying, though he couldn’t grasp why they wouldn’t want him to know what they’d really been talking about.

“On the contrary, darling, Charlie and I are both businesswomen. It’s important we understand these rising costs and how they might affect our future business, don’t you agree?”

“Hmm” the radio demon hummed, looking between the pair. Charlie was still frozen in her seat, eyes wide, whereas Rosie met his gaze without hesitation and not a hint of concern.

Charlie startled again when her phone began to ring in her pocket, releasing the breath she’d been holding under Al’s scrutinising stare, grasped at the device like it was a lifeline, standing and shouting perhaps a little louder than she meant to, “WhoopsIbettergetthatbye!”

The princess didn’t go far to answer her call, just across the small courtyard, close enough she remained in sight but distant enough to be polite. The second her back was turned, Alastor bent so he could peer closely at Rosie, feral smile in place.

“Now, what were you two really talking about, old friend?”

“Darling, there are just some things that must stay between women” Rosie shrugged, unflinching by his attempt to intimidate her. When he continued to glare, she huffed at him “Oh, really, Alastor! If you must know, I was attempting to learn if-“

“-Why do you want to know if I’ve seen the news?” Charlie’s startled tone distracted the pair of Overlords, both heads swivelling in her direction, the princess's panicked gaze met Alastor’s as she hurried back over, pressing the loudspeaker so her business partner could also hear the call, “Angel, what happened?! Is the hotel alright?!”

“Eerm…” It was Husk’s gruff tone that answered them, not Angel so could be heard making a poor attempt at smothering his giggles, as he assured “ain’t nothing wrong with the hotel, Princess, but… you sure you didn’t see anything unusual on the ‘net yesterday?”

Alastor felt his stomach drop.

“No?” Charlie titled her head at the phone “I was… kinda busy yesterday.”

“Too right you were, toots!” Angel barked with laughter.

“I think it was sweet!” Nifty piped up.

Charlie frowned at the phone, utterly perplexed, “What are you guys even talking about?”

“Charlie-“ Al tried to interrupt.

“We’re talking about the news you and deer dick finally hooked up, nice pic by the way! Very cute, didn’t think he had it in him!”

The radio demon froze on the spot, his previous good mood completely gone as all his morning efforts now for naught all because the lewd spider demon couldn’t keep his mouth shut!

“Eh?!” Charlie frowned, “What- but we haven’t- I mean, we’re not… what picture?!”

“See, I told you it wasn’t true!” Husk said, there was a thud and she could imagine he’d probably punched Angel’s arm or something.

“I dunno, think the princess doth protest too much if you ask me, and they looked awful cosy in that pic-“

“-Angel, what picture?!” Charlie growled it this time, her face burning as she kept her gaze on anything that wasn’t her business partner who she was painfully aware of standing beside her.

“If I might intervene, I think I can shed some light on the situation” Rosie interrupted, lifting her own phone to show Charlie the same article she’d shown to Alastor the night before pointedly ignoring the way he glowered beside her.

Charlie only needed to read the headline, eyes round as she took in the scandalous title written beneath the photo. She knew it must have been taken on the beach after she’d been attacked, though you could not tell she was hurt, and it really did look like a tender moment interrupted…

“B-but that’s not what happened!”

“Well, that’s not what the news said,” Angel told her, sounding far too gleeful, “Katie Killjoys been running this story almost hourly since sun-up! You’d think Christmas had come early for how much the bitch is milkin’ it. All over social media too.”

“Noooooo” Charlie groaned, covering her face with her hand as if it could contain her mortification.

Beside her, Alastor could not help but twitch at her tone, though he could understand it. He didn’t blame her at all for being horror-struck and the mere insinuation they were together, given who they were. How different they are. He told himself it was reasonable for her to react this way, tightening his grip on his own arms as he clasped them behind his back, and squashed down the unexpected pang of pain her reaction seemed to incite. To his side, Rosie lifted her hand to give his arm a light pat, whether to soothe or sympathise he neither knew nor cared, refusing to look at her.

“Why are you and Mister Alastor being so mushy in that picture if you aren’t having sex?” Nifty asked, apparently causing Husk to choke based on the sounds of coughing that followed. The reactions were not restricted to one side of the call either, as Rosie sucked in a breath to stop herself from laughing and static buzzed from Alastor loud enough that Charlie took a step away from him, worried he might just snatch the phone from her hand and crush it on principle.

The princess sighed, as much as she’d wanted to keep the attack to herself from her friends so as not to cause them to worry, telling them the truth would probably be the easiest way to explain. “I… I was attacked. You can’t tell in that angle of the picture, but Al’ was trying to stop the bleeding.”

“What?!” the three of them exclaimed at the same time, Angel’s tone losing its joking edge. She heard Husk grumble something intelligible in the background.

“It’s alright, I’m fine, just a bump to the head.”

Nifty cackled, “I bet Mister Alastor showed them what for! Was there a lot of blood?”

“’least Sir Creepsalot is good for something! You sure you’re alright, Blondie?”

She thought about correcting them, that Razzle was the one to handle her attacker, but this conversation was already making her head hurt. They’d get the full story later when they came back to the hotel. “I’m sure. Just sore.”

“Well… good. Not that I was worried or nuthin’, just if you get your head caved in I probably won’t get to live here for free anymore so…”

“Uh-huh,” Charlie actually snickered at Angel’s poor attempt to hide his concern, “don’t worry Angel, your room is safe.”

“Heck yeah” she just knew he’d fist bumped, and somehow she knew Husk had rolled his eyes too. “Man, I shoulda’ known it was too good to be true that you’d take my advice and climb that Strawberry Pimp like a damn pole.”

“Angel…” Charlie warned, painfully aware the phone was still on speaker and Al – who she knew had remarkably (read, annoyingly) good hearing anyway – was only a few steps behind her.

“Oh come on, you know the repressed ones are usually the kinkiest-“

“-Angel-“

“-then again he’s probably into some super weird sh*t being a cannibal and all, probably couldn’t trust him not to take a bite! Smiles might take ‘devour me!’ as a whole different kind of invitation if you get what I mea-“

“-ANGEL, please stop!” Charlie shouted, fingers scrambling against her phone screen to find the right button to take it off speaker, though it seemed to have become the most difficult puzzle imaginable in the last few seconds. She could hear both Angel and Nifty cackling, and Husk grumbling again. By the time she actually managed to take the call off speaker, Charlie was just about praying for the floor to swallow her whole.

“Certainly interesting characters you keep company with, darling” Rosie chuckled behind her, watching the flustered princess turn redder than her suit, though she sobered when she glanced at Alastor, noting the way his jaw clenched, she resisted the urge to sigh once more. For a man so confident as himself, her old friend certainly seemed oddly lacking in himself when it came to a genuine affection towards the fairer sex, and the comments of the princess's friends did not appear to have helped.

Phone no longer on loudspeaker and pressed against her ear, Charlie waited somewhat impatiently for Angel's laughter to die down enough that he’d hear her when she asked, “So… uh… by any chance did Vaggie see the same news reports you guys did?”

That seemed to suck the last of the laughter from them, silence being her only answer for a heartbeat, before Husk cleared his throat and answered, “She did… went real quiet, then took off.”

Charlie sighed. Yes, her breakup with Vaggie had been mutual – though tearful – and yes she’d given her blessing when Vaggie told her she was going to try dating other people, but she knew that her ex would not take it well to hear she’d done the same (even if it was a lie) especially with that person being Alastor, a demon she loathed.

“Hey now, she moved on first, you ain’t got no reason to feel guilty,” Angel huffed, apparently reading her mind.

“But it’s not even true- and you know how she is about Al’”

“Don’t worry about it, chick,” the spider demon assured, “we’ll fill her in on the real story when she gets back- though, I don’t think it’s gonna be any better if we tell her you was attacked.”

“Thank you, Angel.”

“Eh, keep your thanks, just make sure you don’t get dead – I’m… kinda startin’ to like it here.”

“I’ll try” Charlie smiled, hearing Nifty shout her goodbyes in the background while Husk merely grunted, the call ending shortly after.

He took a moment to count to three in her head before she turned back around, her prayer for the floor to have swallowed her whole having remained unanswered, and faced Rosie and Alastor once more. To her surprise, however, Alastor was gone, even Rosie looked a bit bewildered to realise he was no longer standing beside her.

“Uh… I don’t suppose he left before he heard any of that?” the princess dared to hope.

“Afraid not, doll” Rosie chuckled, though there was a fleeting look of annoyance on her face. The overlord wasn’t entirely certain when Alastor had left, but she had half a mind to track him down and knock a bit of sense into him!

“Urgh,” Charlie plopped back down on the bench and held her head in her hands, “god, that was so embarrassing!”

“Which part, dear?”

Charlie lifted her head long enough to frown at Rosie.

“I mean, was it the part where your friends assumed that you and Alastor were together, or perhaps it was the part where they began to speculate-“

“-all of it” Charlie cut across her, not wishing to relive the call. “All of it was embarrassing – and Al’ heard! I know he hates that kind of talk, especially when Angel talks like that about him!”

Rosie tilted her head thoughtfully for a moment, “So it upset you more when Angel spoke crudely about Alastor rather than the insinuation that the two of you were together?”

“Uh…” Charlie frowned, wondering why she cared to specify “… I guess? Why?”

“Merely wanted to know which got under your skin more,” Rosie shrugged, swiftly changing the subject “It was very sweet that they worried for you though!”

Okay, Charlie did agree, it was sweet of them to worry – even if Angel tried to hide his concern behind a nonchalant façade. Despite what he said she knew the spider demon had come to care for his fellow hotel inhabitants, and it showed in the ways he interacted with them every day, it was one of the things she was most proud of him for.

The two of them stayed in the garden for a few minutes longer, Charlie telling Rosie stories of the hotel’s other residents (particularly the time Nifty managed to get herself stuck in an old laundry chute, and how delighted she was that they’d managed to work together to find a way to get her out again, though once they had she’d dove right back in chasing co*ckroaches) until it became clear to them both that Alastor would not be rejoining them. Charlie couldn’t help the way her shoulders wilted in disappointment, he’d probably avoid her for the rest of the day as he no doubt seethed over Angel's dirty comments, while Rosie’s annoyance with him only grew – lord was she going to knock some sense into him when she caught up with him!

“I’m sorry Rosie, my head is beginning to hurt again – I think I might head back to my room and take a nap,” said Charlie, not entirely lying, though she suspected the throbbing at her temples had more to do with the disastrous phone call.

“No need to apologise, darling” Rosie replied, not at all convinced a headache was the only reason for the shift in her mood, but stood and offered her arm to Charlie to loop her own through, “come, I’ll walk you back!”

XXXXXX

It wasn’t even midday and Alastor was regretting his choices this morning. Well, almost, he’d never really regret a chance to remind Vox that without the rest of the Vee’s to back him up, he’d always lose to him. Still, thanks to Angel Dust his purpose behind confronting Vox had become a moot point as Charlie had now been made aware of that ridiculous article!

Oh, he’d tried to suppress it, but it burned him deeply the expression of horror she’d worn as she tried to convince her residents there was nothing between them, and when the p*rn star had begun insinuating those crude things… well, her reaction told him enough.

Normally he’d despise such vulgar conversation, especially where he was concerned, but given his recent conversations with Rosie regarding these… feelings… he’d been having towards the princess lately, it stung to see how disturbed she was by the mere suggestion of being with him in such a manner. Which was simply foolish! He knew full well that he had very little chance of Charlie viewing him as any kind of suitable companion, outside of their current partnership that is, they were simply too different! He’d already resigned himself to that fact, so why did hearing her reject him to Angel Dust make his withered heart squeeze unpleasantly?

He'd retreated via the shadows back to their room before she’d ended the call, not wishing to hear more, and familiar with the smouldering resentment sparked by his own shame building in his veins. Had he stuck around there was a chance he’d only make a fool of himself, more than he already had anyway, for why would he have such a reaction if he hadn’t been harbouring the tiniest amount of hope?

With a growl he stalked across the room, snatching one of the cushions from the sofa he shredded it with ease in his claws, attempting to satisfy his angry craving for violence, and causing Razzle to give a snort and move from the sofa to the high back chair to resume his nap.

He blamed her, of course, for that little spark. This trip had been a mistake, letting her get so close and see him so vulnerable, crawling into bed with him so they would wake up with limbs entangled and drowning in her intoxicating scent (of course, he was ignoring the fact that it was he who had crawled into bed with her the night before). The lingering looks, late nights in the office talking about nothing because neither of them wanted to go to bed, the beguiling smile she gave him even when she was pretending to disapprove of his worst jokes, her soft touches… of course his traitorous heart and hoped!

He needed some space, easy as it usually was for him to hide his emotions he wasn’t entirely confident he could have repressed the chaotic mix of anger, embarrassment and sadness the unexpected call seemed to have brought on. Not from Rosie, his oldest friend, and certainly not from Charlie – the princess tended to be surprisingly perceptive to the feelings of others. A little time to allow these pesky emotions to work their way out of his system and he’d be fine!

A pity this was hell, and one's luck tended to work against even the best-laid plans.

Alastor was still stood breathing heavily surrounding the remnants of the cushion when the door to their room opened. Charlie appeared as surprised as he was when she spotted him, though her gaze dropped to the shredded fabric and stuffing at his feet, a little frown appearing on her face as she asked him, “What did the cushion ever do to you?”

“Would you rather I find some poor unfortunate soul to rip apart instead?” he snapped back, unable to keep the bite from his voice, kicking the stuffing as he moved away from the cotton carnage to the bookcase he pretended to inspect, as far away from her as he could get without completely leaving.

“Um, well, no…” Charlie blinked, “…are you okay, Al?”

“Just spiffy!” he spat the word.

“You sure? You seem a little…”

He turned to her, head snapping to the side in that way that caused his neck to crack, eyes narrowed, “I seem ‘a little’ what, sweetheart?”

Charlie hesitated, still standing by the door, as she observed him. She didn’t know who he was trying to fool, you’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see he was angry about something. Her first thought of course was Angel’s lewd comments, as she knew very well how much he hated them, but she got the sense there was something more to it this time, though she couldn’t guess what. Then again she had no idea what he’d done on his ‘errand’ this morning, if whatever that was hadn’t gone well either then maybe that was playing on his mood too, or maybe the poison was causing him pain (despite denying it earlier), not to mention that ridiculous article! Alastor had carefully cultivated his dark reputation for mischief and mayhem, she doubted the Vee’s claim that they were together – the fearsome and powerful Overlord with her, the disappointing excuse for Hell's princess- fit into that little image of his very well. No wonder he was upset.

Alastor still burned as he glared at her, but he couldn’t help wondering at the curious flicker of emotions across her face as he waited for her response, perhaps that was why it surprised him when she did.

“… never mind.” Charlie turned away, making her way towards the bed. She picked up the bottle of red painkillers, taking two without water, and flopped onto the mattress facing away from him. “My head hurts too much to argue with you, I’m going to try to take a nap.”

“And I suppose I’ll make myself useful by standing guard while you get your beauty sleep,” he huffed, “at least then I shall be good for something, Your Highness.”

“Alright, what is your problem?” She wasn’t entirely certain if it was his tone or his words that irked her more, but Charlie sat up again on the bed and met his glare with her own. “You don’t have to stick around and babysit me, Alastor, I’m a grown demon who can take care of herself. Besides, my spell is still on the door, no one but you or I can enter so I’d be perfectly safe. Stay or go, whatever, just keep your rotten mood to yourself. My head hurts too much to deal right now.”

He seemed to ignore most of what she said, hissing “So certain you can trust me to stay as you rest and not take a bite?”

“I’d think if you were going to try you’d have done it already, considering we’ve literally been sharing a bed for the last three nights,” She pointed out flatly, and when reflecting on this interaction later she’d blame the medication she’d taken for how long it took her to realise he was directly quoting what Angel had said. “Wait, are you… are you really this upset because of Angel’s stupid jokes?!”

“Absolutely not, don’t be ridiculous” he sneered, still pretending his focus was on the bookshelf.

“Sounds like you are.”

“Hahaha! Why would I be upset?” he turned on her, a cackle of mad laughter bursting forth before ending in a growl, “because the effeminate spider, quite rightfully, distrusts me and my appetites? Or that the insufferable Killyjoy lady is making a laughingstock of us once more? Or perhaps you think it hurt my pride to know how horrified you seemed at the mere thought others might believe our relationship is more than a business partnership?!”

The second the words left his lips Alastor wished he could snatch them back, humiliation burned almost as brightly as his anger, and yet he couldn’t quite stop the way his gaze kept flickering back to see how she reacted.

Charlie sat up on the bed, head throbbing, wondering if she’d heard him right. The radio demon was watching her closely too, his ears pressed flat against his head, his smile looking more like a snarl and his eyes flittering around the room as if he was afraid to let it linger anywhere too long.

“…I didn’t… what?” she struggled to find something to say, completely confused, since when had he cared what others thought? “I didn’t think you’d care about something like that?”

“I am still a man, my dear” the excuse popped into his head and he grasped it like a lifeline, “And one with rather the large ego, I’m not afraid to admit, so to hear all think the idea of a beautiful demoness on my arm is laughable does sting.”

She was still staring at him, head tilted quizzically as she frowned. “Oookay… but I wasn’t laughing?”

His ears pricked, “What?”

“I wasn’t laughing” Charlie repeated, still frowning “I’ll admit I was a little mortified, but no more than I would be if they’d told everyone I was sleeping with… well, anyone! I don’t want my private life becoming gossip for all seven rings!”

Alastor gaped at her, terrified of the way his long-dead heart seemed to skip a beat, and asked “You would have had the same reaction to anyone else?”

“Well, yeah” Charlie shrugged, then snickered a little as she added, “Okay, maybe not – if they’d tried to claim I was head over heels in love with Angel I’d probably just laugh given everyone knows he’s very much gay. Besides, it’s not the first time something like this has happened. I am the princess, after all, embarrassing as it is, it’s best to just ignore it.”

“And the fact that they claim you are with me, the Radio Demon, knowing my reputation… doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, taking in his mystified expression, his anger ebbing away if the drop of his shoulders and quieter tone were anything to go by. Was this really what had been bothering him?

He didn’t respond to her question, watching her intensely, until Charlie gave an exasperated sigh.

“Alastor, the first night we were here you gave half a dozen demons here the impression that we were sleeping together, including my ex. If what they thought bothered me, I’d have put a stop to it then.”

That was true, he supposed, though he still had trouble understanding why she’d be okay with this. “A few royals you see rarely is a little different to having the news quite literally broadcast across all of Hell.”

“And yet-“ she reminded him sternly, folding her arms over her chest, “-this is still not the worst thing they’ve ever said about me. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed Al’ but I don’t have much of a reputation to begin with, not one they can tear down any more than they have already anyway, why should I care anymore about this attempt than the crap they said when Angel got into that turf war with Cherri?”

Alastor studied her for a moment, ears forward to detect any change in her tone, eyes keen for the slightest shift of her expression. Charlie remained firm as she watched him, her tone never wavering as she sounded almost bored by this truth, it struck him that she truly did not seem to consider this slander any more important than the day's weather report.

It would seem his furore had been unneeded, if not for these ridiculous feelings he’d have remained as stoic as he had ever been, instead the cursed things had driven him to make a fool of himself in front of her. Hands clasped behind his back and doing his best to look contrite despite how much he burned inside, he admitted “I… perhaps feel a little imprudent for my outburst.”

The princess gave an amused shake of her head, figuring it was as close to an apology as he’d ever get, grinned ever so slightly while patting the spot on the bed beside her in a silent request for him to sit with her. Moth to her flame he obeyed without question, neither saying another word until he was sitting beside her.

“You’re my friend Al’, I’d never be embarrassed of you – I hope you know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed without looking at her, smile pressed into a thin line, “we must make the strangest friends, given how different from one another we are.”

“Probably” Charlie agreed, but she was grinning when he dared glance at her. He couldn’t resist flashing her an answering smile in return.

Even when he looked away from her again, Charlie couldn’t help but let her gaze linger, wondering just why he’d gotten so angry. It wasn’t like this was the first time someone had made a joke of their partnership, Angel often liked to make comments about the possibility of them sleeping together in fact, half of their arguments (or as Alastor called them ‘spirited debates’) where often ended because they’d forgotten they were in the foyer or hallways of the hotel and the spider demon would just happen to pop up at the right time to shout something along the lines of ‘get a room’. Maybe the difference was that this time around the suggestion was made publicly, very publicly in fact.

“Um… I’m sorry too, about that article, I mean” she apologised, playing with a strand of her hair that had fallen loose from the ponytail and over her shoulder.

He snapped to face her, “Darling, why are you apologising?”

“Well considering how much hard work you put into that big bad reputation you care so much about, I figured the idea you were with me of all demons would be pretty upsetting” Charlie shrugged, not at all upset if he thought so.

Alastor stiffened beside her, not once in his anger had he considered his reputation, which was rather unusual for him. She was right, he had carefully cultivated the fearful respect he earned with every utterance of his name from the moment he’d manifested in Hell, and yet…

“My dear, if anyone was fool enough to think my reputation was anything less than it was merely for a connection with you, they’d be in for a nasty shock” he chuckled darkly.

Picking at the bed linen so she had an excuse not to look at him, Charlie asked, “So… it doesn’t bother you either? That people will think you’re with me, I mean?”

There was a lump on her stomach as she asked, wondering why she cared so much to even ask, that exploded into butterflies when he didn’t immediately respond.

Truth was, Alastor was surprised she’d had to ask, still utterly convinced it should be her who was embarrassed, clearing his throat before he could reply. “Hardly, sweetheart, reputations aside you are still the Princess of Hell – why would I be embarrassed to have everyone believe there is a beautiful and powerful woman on my arm? Haha! No, I can certainly think of worse things the pesky tabloids have said about yours truly. Some fantastic ones regarding my sabbatical, in fact, claiming I’d been felled during an extermination – I even saw one that claimed your father had ‘quietly disposed’ of me after attempting to usurp his crown, as if I’d want it!”

He was back to his usually cheery tone, laugh track playing as he cackled at his own story, but Charlie didn’t laugh – in fact, she was rather curious at how amusing he seemed to find the idea, and clouding stop herself before the question popped out of her mouth;

“You mean you don’t want the crown?”

The laugh track stopped as he tilted his head at her curiously, “Of course not, did you really think I would?”

To her credit, the princess did not try to backpaddle or make excuses, she simply shrugged and admitted: “It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to use me to get close to my dad, emphasis on tried, and honestly it seemed more likely than you turning up at the hotel simply for ‘entertainment’.”

“Shrewd, darling, but no” Alastor chuckled admitting quite honestly “I may desire power, but I have no wish to be involved with politics of all things – chaos is my nature, and I do so despite being bored, as well you know. Had it not been for my injury and concern your ex-paramour might just finish me off had I stayed at the hotel, I wouldn’t even be at these meetings!”

She couldn’t lie, something in her was relieved to know his presence at the hotel wasn’t brought about by some plan to murder her father and seize his throne, though Charlie couldn’t help wondering then just what it was that had drawn him to her hotel in the first place – and where had he disappeared to for seven years before he appeared on her doorstep?

Perhaps spurred on by the drugs in her system, and feeling a little risky, Charlie pulled her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on them, watching him carefully as she dared to mention, “I heard a rumour you left shortly after you lost a battle with the Vees?”

“Ah, yes,” he stiffened “you should not believe all the rumours you hear, dear.”

She waited to see if he would elaborate, but he seemed rather content to study his nails, probably expecting her to beg for details – about his whereabouts or the fight he’d had with the Vee’s – and while both would have been good questions to ask, the words that tumbled unbidden from her lips where;

“Why didn’t you ever tell me your mother was here in Hell?”

Static screeched. Charlie winced at the sound, hands raising to cover her ears, relieved her throbbing headache had died down some thanks to Bel’s painkillers. Probably not the best way to broach that particular subject with him, but in her defence Charlie hadn’t really planned to ask about his mother, so much as the words simply escaped when she wasn’t paying attention. There was no taking them back now either, gripping her knees again when the static died down, she could only wait and see if he’d bother responding at all.

“Ah-ha!” he forced a laugh, eyes hard and flinty as he continued “I see Rosie has been gossiping, has she?!”

“Don’t be angry with her, please” Charlie spoke calmly, soothingly, hoping to bring him back down again as she explained, “she didn’t know you hadn’t told me, and regretted mentioning it when she realised.”

“Did she now?”

“She did,” the princess was firm, but released a breath and added “and I don’t understand why you didn’t say anything given how often you talk about your mother. You're always telling me about her cooking, and how sweet and kind she was. Honestly, I just assumed she was in heaven-“

“-do you really think that kind people forced by circ*mstance to do bad things don’t also end up stuck down here in Hell?!” he surprised her by snapping, scowling despite his usual smile.

She swallowed under his glare, tearing her gaze away, admitting “I… no, you’re right. I suppose I just thought… I don’t know.”

He regretted snapping at her almost as soon as he’d done it, seeing her natural curiosity fade as her eyes widened, but the mention of his mother – the reminder that she too was stuck down here - had caught him off guard. Alastor knew Charlie hadn’t meant any harm by asking, which was why he took a steadying breath and explained as simply as he could,

“My mother… was- is- a good woman. But much like any good person in a difficult situation, she made some decisions that damned her soul to Hell just as any other Sinner – and no, before you get any ideas, she would not be a good candidate for your hotel. Much like myself she has no aspirations to redeem herself. She sees her life – or afterlife I suppose – here as penance for the sins she made while alive. Last we spoke, the old dear told me the only thing she wanted was some peace, quiet, and to be left alone.”

“I- you didn’t know I was going to ask if she’d want to come to the hotel!”

“It was on your face, darling.”

The princess huffed, “You can't read my mind as well as you think you can, Al’. I was only going to ask if you’d like to invite her to visit sometime, I doubt any of us would mind. Or if you want, I could organise a group activity, keep everyone out of your way for a while-“

“-a kind offer, my dear, but I’m afraid it’s unnecessary” he spoke over her gently, genuinely appreciative of her suggestion.

“Oh. Well, I suppose if you want to take time off to visit her, that’s okay too!”

“Again, unnecessary,” he could see her questioning stare out of the corner of his eye, and despite his mind screaming at him to stay quiet, found himself admitting, “We do not see each other often, my mother and I… she rather disapproves of a lot of the choices I made, both in my life and death.”

“Oh,” Charlie found herself whole-heartedly emphasising with the hurt she didn't think he noticed lace his voice, knowing only too well what it felt like when a parent did not support your dreams. Of course, there was some difference between her dream to help her people and Alastor murder and chaos, but she imagined the hurt he felt could not be so different from her own. Despite knowing how much he hated being touched unless he initiated it himself, she reached out a hand to cover his own, giving it a light squeeze when he looked at her.

“If you ever want to talk… I mean, I’m told I’m a good listener! And… and I know what it's like when your parents don’t approve of what you think is right.”

The radio demon could only blink, his gaze flickering from her sombre face to the hand that covered his own, so small and soft in comparison – though tipped with sharp black claws that scraped his skin ever so lightly when she tightened her grip.

“I…I’ll keep that in mind.”

Charlie squeezed his hand again, giving him a bright smile, before yawning quite suddenly and slapping her other hand over her mouth to hide it, “Sorry, that was rude!”

Alastor only chuckled, curling his fingers so he could give her own a squeeze and causing her gaze to drop to their still clasped hands, cheeks burning when she realised. “You did mention that you came in here for a nap, I’m terribly sorry to have kept you from it. Go ahead, my dear, get some rest.”

She shuffled a bit on the bed, stretching her legs out once again – though she once tried to take her hand from his grip – almost lying down when she asked, “Are you going to stay here?”

“Would you like me to?”

“I don’t want you to be bored. I can't imagine watching me sleep is very entertaining for you.”

“On the contrary, I can tell you from personal experience that you are somewhat prone to sleep talking, it’s very amusing.”

“What?! I do not talk in my sleep!”

“I beg to differ, sweetheart, and I should know – I’m the one who has been subjected to your unconscious rambling these last few nights.”

“What did I say?”

“Something about cheese, but I didn’t quite catch what exactly.”

Charlie wrinkled her nose in adorable confusion, blinking when he reached over to tap it as he snickered when she blinked in surprise.

“Get some rest, my dear, I will be right here if you need me.”

Chapter 12: What happens in the Library, stays in the Library

Chapter Text

Alastor would be the first to admit that, inherently, he was a selfish man. It was something about himself he thought to be both an asset and a flaw. It gave him the drive to go after the things he wanted, and yet it was also what drew him to the things he knew would be no good for him.

He pondered this while Charlie slept peacefully behind him, finding his hands idly playing with her soft hair as he did (it was fast becoming one of his favourite things to do) mulling over his shameful outburst earlier, and had come to a few conclusions.

The first was that these feelings he had for the princess were undoubtedly stronger than he’d initially thought, and given that he had very little experience with such things he had not quite worked out a suitable defence against them – at least, not one she did not manage to effortlessly (and unknowingly) destroy. In his eyes that left Rosie’s question regarding whether or not he wished to explore these feelings rather moot, it seemed he would be forced to regardless of his own opinion on the matter (a fact he found he was not unhappy with, though he refused to dissect why right now). The second tied into his selfish nature, for while he knew that anything more than friendship with the princess was little more than an auspicious dream of his foolish heart, he knew he would not be able to resist any of the affection she so thoughtlessly doled out to him. No, he decided while she slept, if this ‘fake relationship’ they found themselves in was not objectable to her (and he assumed it was not, given she had said as much herself earlier) then for at least as long as they were here he would accept whatever crumbs she cared to give him and hopefully that would be enough to state his curiosity. While part of him argued this was a bad idea, a stronger part felt… relieved at the thought of not constantly warring against his own desires. It wasn’t his nature to do so, after all.

As such, he did not argue when Charlie woke after a few hours and decided that after an early dinner, she wanted to check out the lodge's library. Even if he had wanted to argue he suspected he would have given in quickly had she turned to him with her usual pout anyway.

Still, he could not resist teasing her a little as they walked along the halls while she chattered about their destination, “Is the library back at the hotel not enough for you, my dear?”

“Of course it is!” Charlie grinned “But I’m not about to say no to exploring a different library, besides I might find more books on self-improvement here, I’ve pretty much exhausted the ones I already have back at the hotel. I really need to get out and buy some more, but I just haven’t had the time, those kinds of books are shockingly hard to find…”

“I can’t imagine why,” he mocked.

“I know, right?” Charlie agreed, completely missing his tone, pushing open the large doors that separated them from the library.

Her eyes immediately went large as they darted around the large room, decorated in hues of ice blue and deep royal purple, the shelves reached high enough to require ladders with a small maze of stacks and an area of couches, chairs and desks.

With little more than a glance at him, the princess made an excited sound as she shook her hands excitedly in front of her, then disappeared into the stacks. The radio demon chuckled at her uncontained delight despite himself, earning a look from one of the few demons nearby that he ignored, before mentally instructing his shadow to keep an eye on her while deciding to peruse the shelves himself.

When she’d first told him of this library idea the thought had occurred to him that, if he was going to try to train her to be more proficient with her abilities as she requested, it might help him to understand just what her capabilities might be. Naturally, he’d been curious before, reading whatever material he could find on angels shortly after they met, but much like her, he was keen to see if this library could show him anything new.

Much to his disappointment however he could only find three books that mentioned anything to do with angels, and they were three books he’d already read! Each one was utterly useless, two were simply retellings of Lucifer’s fall, while the third was practically nothing but scary children’s stories meant to implore the dangers of extermination day.

Sighing in frustration, Alastor tapped his foot as he reconsidered his options, getting a glimpse of Charlie as she passed by (apparently unaware of anything around her as usual), a few books already in her arms and his shadow slithering behind her.

So he could find no books that might give him a clue to her divine abilities, but Lucifer was not her only parent. Lilith, her mother, was a lot of things – the first woman, Adam’s first wife, but she was also Hell's first demon. It’s first Succubus, to be exact. Cast into Hell alongside Lucifer, its dark energies warping and changing her into the powerful queen she became. There was no way that Charlie didn’t inherit something from her.

What did he know of succubus demons? Besides them being sex demons, which Charlie did not appear to be (or if she was, she was certainly not so bold about it as others) but not much else.

Finding a section of the library devoted to books on demons, Alastor soon found one bound in faded pink whose title boasted ‘The Ins and Outs of Succubus’ that he promptly pulled from the shelves and began to flick through. He should have realised the kind of book it might have been when the first page he opened had a rather detailed diagram of a succubus’ anatomy complete with labels that made outrageous claims about the amount of ‘enjoyment’ one could get or give to certain areas. He wrinkled his nose at the diagram and flicked a few pages forward, his eyebrows all but flying off his face completely to be faced with two complete pages of (scarily detailed) diagrams featuring succubus in various compromising positions. He knew a thing or two about anatomy, but he was sceptical of some of these poses, he was absolutely certain there was no way that anyone could be comfortable, let alone find enjoyable! Nor could he imagine Charlie… oh, no. Alastor snapped the book shut, shutting his eyes tightly as the images in the book were replaced with thoughts of the princess in such… nope. He shoved the book back where it belonged on the shelf. Surely he could find something less… graphic.

Still pushing thoughts of Charlie and the drawings from his mind, which seemed hellbent on doing no such thing, Alastor moved a little further along the shelf in hopes of finding a safer book with which to not only get the information he desired but distract his now wandering mind.

It seemed there were no factual books on Succubus that were not much like the first he found, though he had learned now to return them to the shelves the second he glimpsed the diagrams, he did however find a promising tomb entitled ‘Demon Classification 101’. It was rather large, and from a cursory glance it seemed to have a chapter regarding most demon species, and most importantly no diagrams!

Pleased, the radio demon exited the shelves with his find under his arm, taking a seat on one of the available sofas where he could see a majority of the library and keep the princess within his line of sight almost at all times. His shadow may be following her, but it soothed him all the same to catch a glimpse of her now and then. Opening the book upon his lap, Alastor gave a wary glance around himself to be certain no one would be looking over his shoulder at what he read, he found the chapter tilting Succubus and Incubi and began to read.

Most of it he already knew such as increased speed, strength and durability, something most demons had in comparison to humans. It did interest him somewhat to discover that most succubus possessed innate empathic abilities, though the extent of which seemed to vary from one to the next, but it would explain Charlie's heartfelt nature in a way besides just her divine blood.

There was a lot written regarding how the succubus could not only become more powerful, but actually heal themselves, using ‘lustful energies’. To his relief, this particular book did not go into great detail concerning those. The book also mentioned how succubus, unlike their incubus counterparts, possessed a powerful voice and how many could affect the mood of mortals (usually prompting a sexual response from which they could gather energy without even needing to engage in the act if they did not wish) with the more powerful even effecting fellow demons.

This was not exactly news to him. It was well known that Lilith had been beloved in Hell not only as its Queen but for her singing, rumour even said that demons became more powerful for a short time after her performances. Sadly he’d never heard her perform himself, her concerts coming few and far between in the last decades before her sudden absence, but he had heard Charlie. It was her voice on the picture show that had first caused him to pause on that street all those months ago, and it was her singing that captured his attention (the fist fight with Killjoy that followed shortly after just confirmed to him that the entertainment value that could be had) he suspected that even if he had not been instructed to go to her hotel, he would have soon found himself there solely due to her voice. It haunted him like a siren song, enchanting him to step off the safety of the ship to the tumult waves below, and he suspected that was without her even trying!

Of course, it was entirely possible that Charlie had not inherited her mother's hypnotic voice and his infatuation with her had simply begun when her watched her performance on the 666 news. From what he’d seen of the magic she’d actually performed around him, limited as it was, her talents seemed to lead more towards pyrokinesis – most likely inherited from her father – with a few more defensive spells (such as the one she’d placed on the door of their room). Simple to learn and powerful when fuelled by someone possessing magic such as hers. If this was all she knew then it was true her parents had taught her the bare minimum, and he’d have a lot to catch her up on…

While Alastor was lost to his thoughts, Charlie danced amongst the bookshelves plucking them off their shelves and having a flick-through, tucking them under her arm if she thought they might suit her purposes. So far she’d found two, which was truly more than she expected! Admittedly one was more aimed towards children, but she was certain she could transfer the skills it taught!

Given that she had only been attacked yesterday she’d felt a small amount of trepidation when she realised Alastor had not followed her, rather deciding to examine the shelves for himself, at least until she noticed his shadow following her from the corner of her eye. Besides, the demon himself was no doubt only one shout away should anyone decide it was a good idea to repeat the attack, and after shooting a grin towards the dark spot she’d seen his shadow disappear into, returned her focus to the shelves. A peaceful evening amongst the books was just what they needed after everything this morning. It still surprised her how upset he’d gotten over Angel’s remarks, of course, he normally disliked such talk anyway, but something about it this time seemed to have gotten directly under the deer demon's skin…

It still mortified her the fact he heard Angel encouraging her to sleep with him, she’d suspected that might be part of what troubled him so much. He’d dashed such thoughts from her mind by telling her it hurt his pride to think she was horrified at the idea others thought they were together. She was quick to assure him it wasn’t the case, perhaps a little too quick, but to hear he was equally unbothered by the idea… Charlie couldn’t help the little smile that danced on her lips to know he apparently wasn’t completely against it, though she quickly told herself off for it. This little crush of hers was certainly making itself more known now she’d realised it was there!

It wasn’t helped that she’d noticed him playing with the ends of her hair after she woke from her nap, idly running his long fingers through its ends seemingly lost in his own thoughts and unaware she’d woken. She’s always enjoyed the sensation of someone playing with her hair, and while yes Al’ had never exactly been shy about touching her whenever he wanted (usually, she suspected, crowding her space in an effort to make her uncomfortable) something about that just felt… intimate.

Distracted as she was, Charlie barely noticed the comings and goings of the few other demons using the library around her, certainly not when one approached her – even when Al’s shadow tried tugging on her sleeve.

“Charlie, fancy seeing you here!” the voice made her freeze, shoulders hunching as she replaced the book she’d been looking at back on the shelf and clutched the two she already held closer to her chest.

“Seviathan,” Charlie forced her tone to be polite as she turned to him with a forced smile, “good evening. I didn’t expect to run into you in the library…”

“Yeah, well, I got loads more into books after we broke up” he leaned on the shelf with a grin, rubbing the back of his neck, “Look, I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to apologise about the other morning and my sister… I didn’t mean for it to turn into, well, that.”

“Oh,” she blinked, “well… you don’t have to apologise, I don’t think anyone could have predicted any of that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But you’re alright though, your head I mean?”

“Sore, but fine.”

“Good,” he grinned and stepped closer, immediately Charlie’s alarm bells began ringing. Sev had always been very good at persuading her to do things she didn’t really want when they were together, and it always started with him crowding her space making her feel as though she couldn’t escape. “So how about we get out of here and do something more… fun?”

“S-sorry, Sev, but… no, I’ve got the books I want and I think I’m going to head back to my room…”

Charlie tried to slip past him, the Von Eldritch demon's hand shooting out to grab her arm just above the elbow to stop her.

“Please tell me you’re not turning me down because those rumours of you and that ridiculous-looking sinner are true.”

“He is not ridiculous” Charlie’s tone was clipped, wrenching her arm from his grip.

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“Why does anyone care if Al’ and I are sleeping together or not?!”

“I don’t hear you denying it.”

Fuming, Charlie could feel her fingertips beginning to tingle, the first sign her firey magic was seconds away from bursting forth, she wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes had inverted to her demon from either. The audacity of his questions, for him to try and judge her and her choice of partners, when she knew for a fact he’d slept with just about every demon in their Hell School (some while they were still together in fact, though she didn’t find that out until after they broke up). Still, she took a deep breath, anger wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Besides Alastor had practically given her permission to pretend the rumours were true, and as satisfying as it would be to punch Seviathan in his stupid smirking face, she knew which would piss him off more.

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Charlie pretended to admit “Alastor and I are together. We didn’t want to make a big deal of it, so we didn’t tell anyone, but you know how hard it can be to keep these things quiet…”

Seviathan’s mouth hung open for a second, shocked, but he recovered quicker than she could walk away and caught up to her in a few steps, getting in front to block her exit once more. “Why him?”

“Do you want a list of reasons?” she tilted her head, smirking just a little as she held up a hand and counted off on her fingers, “he makes me laugh, even when I don’t want to, and he supports my dream even if he doesn’t believe in it, he’s honest with me-“

“-wasn’t I all those things?”

Charlie actually laughed, “Sev, you slept with half our school while we were still together!”

“Yeah but like, you never asked if we were exclusive or anything.”

“Oh, you’re right Sev, forgive me for assuming that the demon I was in love with would just know I didn’t want him sticking his dick in everyone else!”

For a second he actually seemed to look ashamed, but it was quickly replaced by a scowl, attacking from another angle, “You know you’re going to be queen one day Charlotte, you’re going to need a strong king to protect you. You know I could do it.”

“Protect me?” she scowled back, “why would I need someone to protect me, why can’t I protect myself?!”

“Oh please!” Seviathan barked with laughter, “You know you’re not a fighter, babe! You got your head cracked open just yesterday and you’re asking why you can’t protect yourself?!”

Charlie burned. Anger, embarrassment, shame, all three seemed to be competing for the top spot as she glared. But wasn’t he right? That was why she’d asked Al’ to train her, wasn’t it?

“Ow, what the f*ck?” Seviathan’s head jerked suddenly as something hit him, though he frowned with confusion when he saw nothing behind him. He did not notice as Charlie did the shadow that slithered away, an idea coming to her mind as she used the distraction to slip past her ex. She was a few steps away when she heard him following, calling out to her, “Charlie, wait!”

“Shadow, can you get back to Al, just warn him to… to play along?” she muttered, quietly enough Seviathan would not hear her, not entirely sure his shadow was close enough to hear either.

Shadow did hear. The library had plenty of places for him to hide, so the princess nor her stalker noticed when he zipped ahead and reunited with his master only moments before Charlie herself did. Alastor, still absorbed in his book, had not yet noticed their approach – he startled a bit when his shadow suddenly rejoined himself but heard the message loud and clear.

‘Play along’

He had no idea what it meant, lifting his head with a puzzled frown only to see Charlie stalking towards him – her eyes were demonic pale, sclera red, a sure sign something was upsetting her – which alone was enough to set him on alert. His gaze fell behind her, the dark aquatic demon with green eyes he recognised as her ex following closely.

Alastor removed the book from his lap, with every intention of standing to meet the situation head-on, but before he could stand Charlie stood before him and blocked his movement. He looked up at her with an eyebrow raised in question, she gave him a tight smile an almost apologetic look, and then – much to his shock – she threw herself into his lap, arm going around his shoulders, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Al froze in shock, static humming as he tried to contain any reaction (he still had enough of his sense to realise this was likely what she’d meant by ‘play along’).

“Sorry I took so long, sweetie, but I found the books I wanted!” Charlie spoke loudly, hoping she hadn’t gone too far with the little display. Her voice seemed to jolt Alastor from his surprise however, his arm came up to wrap around her waist while the other landed on her legs slung across his lap effectively holding her right where she was, his gaze never leaving Seviathan as the Von Eldritch demon continued to approach them.

“No need to apologise, my love, you know I could wait for you forever.”

The princess pressed her lips together to hide her snicker, he was laying it on a bit thick but she was just relieved he was playing along with her idea at all! Of course, he’d probably want something in return for it later. At the very least she foresaw a lot of teasing in her future.

It was worth it to see Seviathan actually hesitate before he continued his path towards them, a pulse in his jaw ticking as his smile became strained. Alastor observed this too, being certain to keep his own smile relaxed and eyes half-lidded as he watched the other demon come closer.

“You can’t possibly believe he’s the better choice, Charlie” Seviathan kept his eyes on her princess curled into the sinners embrace, “You know what he is, who he is, even better than I do. He’s a sinner, he’s not even a real demon!”

Charlie felt Alastor tense beneath her. This was, in part, why she’d chosen to sit on him despite knowing full well how much he’d probably hate it. He hated being touched after all. But she knew Sev, and she knew he’d do his best to get a rise out of them both – and Al’ was not as well known for keeping his temper in check as she was. At least with her sat on him there was slightly less chance of him attacking Seviathan for his insults.

“He’s demon enough for me, that’s all that matters” she retorted, leaning to rest her head on Alastor’s shoulder, feeling him relax the moment she did.

Alastor could not resist the smug grin he shot the other male, his grip tightening on her waist to draw her as close as possible, noticing the spark of jealousy in his bright green eyes. He focused on that, not the way her simple words had set his heart racing, nor the warmth he felt radiating even through their clothes, or her spicy scent that encouraged him to turn his face and bury it in her soft hair.

Still, the other demon did not take the hint to leave, simply shaking his head and giving her an imploringly sad look, “I don’t understand, Charlie, what did I ever do wrong?”

“Do wrong?” the blonde blinked as she lifted her head from Alastor’s shoulder to stare, wondering if he really had the nerve to ask, leaning forward – the only thing that stopped her getting up completely was the way Al’s clawed hands tightened on her thigh. “What did you do wrong, are you really asking me that? Let's forget for a second about all the cheating, how about the fact that you stood by and just watched while your sister almost killed me?!”

“She didn’t… you were fine! And you set her on fire!”

“After she tore my leg open!”

“Yeah, so like, shouldn’t that mean you’re both even? And I don’t see what that has to do with us anyway, I didn’t even do anything!”

“I’d say that is exactly the point, you ignorant fool” Alastor snapped quite suddenly, a growl lacing his tone, making Charlie jump just a little as she tightened her hold around his shoulders. “Infidelity is one thing, though I simply cannot fathom why you would wish to stray, but to know you did not protect her, and from your own blood no less? You do not deserve to be in her presence, but as you are you should be grovelling for forgiveness, not demanding chances you are not owed. You did not deserve my Charlie then, and you most certainly don’t now!”

By the end of his little rant, Alastor’s claws were digging ever so slightly into the flesh of her waist and thigh, but Charlie barely noticed. She stared at the side of his face with wide eyes, the growl in his voice sending a shiver down her spine, wondering just how much – if any of it – he meant.

Seviathan seemed to be torn, wearing an expression that was curiously torn between anger and shame. Before he could make any kind of retort, however, a new voice screeched, “I should have known I’d find you trailing after the princess's tail again!”

Heads turned as Helsa stalked into the library, disrupting the peace with her shrill tone and clicking of her heels, hanging off the arm of a rather large reptilian demon wearing a crushed velvet suit of midnight blue who Charlie recognised as being from one of the other royal families. Helsa caught her looking and smirked.

“Oh, this is my fiancé, Darrick” the Von Eldritch heiress said, holding an arm over the male demon's broad chest, “we met on my last cruise in Greed and fell head over heels, didn’t we darling?”

Darrick just grunted, which Charlie supposed could have been a yes. She smiled politely, “How nice.”

Helsa gave an unpleasant smile, “I suppose my dimwit brother has been sniffing after your skirts again, has he? So sad, see, the truth is he’s not actually interested in you – but our father got tired of him slu*tting around, so he’s arranged a marriage for him! The only way he can get out of it is if he brings home a better offer. You’re just a particularly nice prize he thinks he can win.”

Charlie looked at Seviathan, knowing what Helsa said was true from the look on his face alone. He threw a nasty scowl at his twin but gave Charlie an imploring look when he faced her again, “Babe, I swear, it’s not like that-“

“-liar, liar!” Helsa sang.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, Sev, I’m already in a very happy and committed relationship” Charlie shrugged, leaning into Alastor again, wishing more than anything the pair would just go away already.

“Darling, you’ll make me blush” the radio demon hummed with amusem*nt, but his eyes had never left Helsa since the demoness walked into the room. He’d suspected she might be the one behind the scar that marked Charlie’s pale thigh, but now he had it confirmed he was not willing to risk a repeat. Through the thin fabric of her trousers, Alastor could feel the scar, brushing his thumb over it repeatedly as he forced himself to stay put. Charlie would not approve if he attacked without thought, much as she deserved it.

“Gross,” Helsa scoffed, leaning on the back of the sofa to glare at them, “you know, I bet they’re faking it Sev, weak little goody-two-shoes princess, who would want-“

Charlie prayed Alastor would not be too mad with her later for this, but by this point, she was quite willing to face his wrath if it got the Von Eldritch twins to leave, and Helsa’s repulsed attitude to simple words of affection had given her an idea. Alastor had been watching the other demons never once letting his gaze stray to her the entire time she’d been perched on his lap (she assumed to hide his irritation) but it was easy enough to make him face her with a hand pressed lightly to his grinning cheek.

Al’ didn’t understand why at first, only followed her guiding hand against the side of his face, he barely got a glimpse of her expression before her lips were pressed against his own. This time his static screeched with no hope of him containing it, his grip on her tightening to the point it was almost painful, but he did not pull away.

Charlie felt his grip tighten on her, claws biting into her skin even through her clothes, his lips stiff beneath her own as static screeched and she felt the charge dance across her skin emanating from the demon beneath her. However, when he failed to move at all, regret began to eat at her… it was a mistake to kiss him, fake relationship or not, wrong to use him just to try and make Helsa go away…

… yet, just as she was about to pull away, she felt him begin to relax. His grip on her lessened, but was no less firm, hand moving from her waist to the back of her head where he buried his fingers in her hair and used the grip to force her head to tilt, causing her to take a sharp breath, giving him better access to her mouth. His lips were no longer stiff beneath her own, no, he returned the kiss with an almost shy fervour that sent a shiver through her body, a tingle across her skull, and started an ache deep within her heart. He kissed her like a man starved of affection, but also afraid she would reject what he offered in return.

They only parted when Darrick cleared his throat, apparently, the Von Eldritch twins were too shocked or disgusted to do so themselves. Neither the princess nor the radio demon really noticed, however, staring at each other with equally stunned expressions until they both ripped their gazes away.

“Urgh, I think I threw up a little bit in my mouth” Helsa sneered, stalking around the couch so she could grab Seviathan by the front of his jacket and drag him along behind her, “come on, idiot, father is looking for you!”

The second they left the library, Charlie felt herself relax, though upon feeling Alastor’s grip landing on her waist again as he attempted to shift beneath her had her sitting up – attempting to shuffle off his lap as apologies flew out of her mouth.

“Oh, god, sorry Al’ – I didn’t mean for that to… I just thought that if he saw we were together…”

“Charlie, please stop moving!” he commanded her through gritted teeth, attempting to hold her still with both hands on her waist. It would seem that all this… unexpected proximity and awoken other things, things made worse by the very warm and very feminine body currently wriggling on top of him.

Unaware of his problem, Charlie still tried to escape his grip, at least until she heard him take a sharp breath – worried she’d hurt him, she froze. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go that far, I just…”

“It’s alright. Believe it or not, my dear, I did catch on to your plan before you decided to use my lap as your personal throne” he swallowed as he spoke, but was proud when he managed to maintain a somewhat normal tone. “My shadow did pass along your warning to give me a few seconds to prepare.”

Charlie sighed, relieved he’d gotten the warning so the whole thing had not been too startling for him, and even more to see he did not seem at all upset with her actions. “I suppose that’s why you decided to lay it on a bit thick then? ‘My love’, and that whole big speech?” she teased.

“Apologies darling, did I not play the role of ‘fake lover’ to your satisfaction?” he returned her mocking tone. “Perhaps next time I should be more dramatic, maybe serenade you with a love song?”

“Don’t you dare!” she laughed, laying a hand against his chest.

“Well now, don’t the pair of you look cosy!” the voice startled them both.

Bee had zipped into the library unnoticed by either, currently hovering over the little seating area as she flashed a knowing smirk to her niece. Charlie immediately began trying to scramble off his lap again, but upon seeing her flaming face, Alastor snickered and held her right where she was as he addressed the Sin of Gluttony, “Why, yes, yes we are!”

“Alastor!” the princess hissed over her shoulder, but the radio demon only chuckled at her obvious embarrassment. Looking back up at Bee, Charlie added, “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Uh-huh, sure” Bee did not at all look convinced, standing in front of them with her hands on her hip and eyebrows raised, “Look, I didn’t mean to disturb… whatever this is, but I’m spreading the word – it’s been so dull and serious around here, it’s about time we let a little loose, so I’m throwing a party tomorrow night!”

“A party?”

“Yep,” she nodded enthusiastically, then rolled her eyes a little, “it won’t be as wild as my usual parties, Satan made me promise and Belphagor has refused to supply any drugs, but a party is still a party! Drink and dancing! So, I’ll see you two there, yeah?”

“Uh… sure, maybe!” Charlie agreed loosely, casting a sideways glance at Alastor.

“Maybe? I think it sounds like a capital idea, I do appreciate a good party!” the Radio Demon said.

“Yay!” Bee cheered, “now, I must keep spreading the word! I want everyone there! See you two later, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, toodles!”

Once he was certain the Sin was out of earshot, Alastor asked “Why do you seem so reluctant, my dear? You love parties!”

“I do,” Charlie agreed, and was finally able to slide off his lap to the cushion beside him, though her legs remained thrown over his lap with one of his hands resting on her knees and another on her back keeping her close. He didn’t seem at all bothered by it, curiously. “But you… Bee’s parties can be very… I don’t think it would be something you’d particularly enjoy, is all.”

“Oh, I doubt that I enjoy a good party as much as the next, particularly when there’s dancing!”

“Ookay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you” she warned him teasingly, giving him some trepidation, but it was quickly forgotten when she asked, “Oh, I meant to ask earlier, how have you been feeling? You haven’t had another apple since yesterday morning…?”

“I feel quite fine, my dear, not to worry – not the strongest I’ve ever been, but not weak as a kitten either.”

“Are you sure?” she narrowed her eyes, “have you been using your magic?”

“I…” he hesitated, the lie that he had not somehow caught in his throat, he found himself telling her the truth, “I may have used it this morning when I decided to confront Vox.”

She frowned, “Vox?”

“Yes, I… may have already been aware of the article the Vee’s published before the call this morning, and decided to confront him about it. I cornered him in the bathroom and threatened him.”

He expected her to scold him, at the very least be upset with him, the last thing he expected was laughter. It started as a snicker, but when he glanced at her curiously it became full out laughter. “In the bathroom?! Alastor!”

“It was the only place I could get him alone!” the radio demon defended, though her laughter proved infectious and he found himself laughing alongside her, “believe me, darling, it was not my intention to catch him with his fly down!”

“Oh god, poor Vox!”

“’Poor Vox’?! He was involved with that slanderous article about us, don’t forget” he reminded her, sobering a little, “and I learned the Vee’s had zero involvement regarding the attack to yourself, so I would say it was worth a little fatigue.”

Charlie was well aware of his hand against her back and the way it was moving ever so slightly, clawed fingertips brushing against her spine. She smiled, both at the sensation and his admittance that he had indeed been looking for her attacker. “I do appreciate it, Al’, but maybe try not to get into any fights with Vox, at least until the poison Is completely gone?”

“Hmm, I can make no such promises – he does vex me so -but I can try.”

Charlie sighed, supposing it was as good as she was ever going to get especially with him, shifting slightly when she realised there was a book digging into her hip. She pulled it from beneath her, tilting her head as she looked at the title, “Why were you reading up on demon classifications?”

“One can never be too prepared for what you might face here in Hell” he responded easily, not wishing to admit he’d been looking up Succubus specifically with her in mind (it might give off the wrong impression after all!), but he did add, “I thought brushing up on my knowledge regarding other demons skillsets might assist me in ideas on how best to train you in your own abilities.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head “I guess I didn’t consider… do you really think it will be very different to teach me? How did you learn?”

“Trial and error, mostly” he shrugged “and what I did not learn myself, my mother taught me in life. I’m one of the fortunate few to have brought the power they had in life to the afterlife. I’m not even certain if I could teach you as I have been taught, but I will endeavour to try. Besides, magic is not the only thing I can teach, and rest assured we will be working on your combat skills the moment we are both well enough.”

“I look forward to the challenge,” she told him, and at his dubious expression, gave him a flat look and admitted, “I’m getting tired of people laughing at me when I say I can protect myself.”

“Ah, well, I would say send them my way but it would rather defeat the point you’re trying to make now, wouldn’t it? Fret not, my dear, I promise that soon enough they will know not to laugh!”

“To be clear, I’m not going to pick fights with everyone who laughs, I just want to know that when I say I can protect myself I actually can.”

“Of course, darling” he nodded, still trailing his fingers across her spine – he couldn’t seem to stop – eyed the books she still held on her lap and asked, “So did you find the books you wanted?”

“I found a few, but I wasn’t done browsing” she admitted “Seviathan kind of snuck up on me…”

“Well, we cannot have that, come, my dear, I’ll stand guard this time as you look.”

Alastor stood, though he immediately felt the loss of her warmth as her legs slid from his lap, he offered her his hand and pulled her up to stand beside him following her back into the rows of bookcases as she returned to where she’d been looking before Seviathan disturbed her.

If he shut his eyes too long, Alastor could still feel the softens of her lips against his own, the intoxicating way her scent had surrounded him so completely he’d quite forgotten they had an audience. Yes, he had kissed women before, on the rare occasions he’d felt such an urge to satisfy certain urges, but not one of them had felt quite as she had done. He could have let her consume him completely and he would have been happy to let her. The only thing that held him back was the little voice in his head that reminded him it was only an act, despite her words and her actions Charlie did not care for him the way a lover might, and she never would.

Charlie was having a similar problem, finding her gaze straying to the tall crimson-clad demon who stood beside her apparently browsing the books, observing him from the corner of her eye. Her lips still tingled and her skin felt electrified where his hands had touched, and she suspected it had little to do with the static energy he’d given off. Kissing him had not been her plan, she was utterly stunned that he’d kissed her back, let alone that he was actually good at it! There was no way he’d never done that before, though she’d been under the impression that he wasn’t at all interested in that kind of thing, but maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe he was just a lot more covert regarding his rendezvous… he did disappear from the hotel for hours at a time on ‘errands’ after all.

Why did the thought he was going out to meet other women (or men, she did not judge) make her need to suppress a growl?

To put a little space between them while she regained control of her wayward emotions, Charlie climbed one of the ladders under the guise of checking the top shelf, while Alastor remained on the ground below. She asked him to hold the books she’d already retrieved while he looked.

Al examined the books she’d asked him to hold, reading the titles and the blurbs, both were unsurprisingly boasting to help on matters of self-improvement and trust. He was honestly surprised she found anything of the like here in Hell, all things considered. Both these books seemed as if they had come from the human realm in fact, which probably explained their presence.

“I’ve noticed you appear to be rather fixated on these silly ‘trust exercises’ lately, my dear” he called up to her on the ladder, “normally you have more variety with your lessons. Why the sudden focus on trust of all things?”

She didn’t answer him for a few minutes, long enough for him to wonder if she had not heard him, though the ladder was not quite tall enough for that. After a long pause, however, Charlie quietly admitted, “I… sometimes I feel like I lost whatever trust they had in me when I led them into that battle… wh-when we lost Sir Pentious…”

“Charlie…”

“It’s okay, Al’, I just… I just need to rebuild that trust. Trust is important, I can't help them improve themselves if they don’t trust me to help them, you see? They need to trust that they can tell me secrets and that I won't judge them for their pasts or their mistakes. Besides, it just feels good to be able to trust in someone, to feel completely safe and secure with them, y’know?”

Alastor did know, which was exactly why he did not reply. His thoughts had gone back to their first night here, when she had begged him to let her help him, how he had given in and let her. He had trusted her that night, had trusted her since in fact, and she was right – it felt good. He did feel safe with her, secure with her. Enough for her to slip so easily into his cold dead heart.

Atop the ladder, Charlie couldn’t help but glance down at him, but she could tell very little from the top of his head about what he was thinking. An idea popped into her head, if he would not believe her words, perhaps a demonstration?

Grinning ever so slightly, Charlie leaned back from the ladder, letting go completely as she shouted out, “Trust fall!”

Her shout startled Alastor from his musings, though he barely registered the words she said, looking up to see her falling from the ladder. The deer demon dropped the books he was holding and caught her in his arms with a huff, only to find her grinning up at him.

“Just what were you thinking?!” he growled at her, setting her on her feet, “are you forgetting that you already have a headwound? Are you so keen for another?”

“No,” she shook her head slightly, her grin fading only slightly under his scolding, “I knew you’d catch me. I trusted you. Feels good, right?”

Lips pressed into a tight smile, Alastor could not deny that she was right, to know she had such faith in him did make him feel good. He turned away to hide his face so she might not detect his pleasure, feeling the invisible stitches in his cheeks that caused his permanent smile to strain ever so slightly as he tried to frown, reminding him.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t,” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. It was not fair, he knew, for her to trust him as she did when he could not return the favour. He could not tell her about his deal, or the real reason he came to her hotel, nor the reason he stuck around so long.

“What was that?” she asked, bending to pick up the books he’d dropped.

“Nothing, my dear, just thinking out loud!” he span around, noticing her crouched on the floor, and offering her a hand to help her back up. As she stood a piece of her hair fell to the side, and he noticed something odd. He reached out without a word to tuck the strand back, to double-check what he had seen.

“Al’?” Charlie had stilled at his actions, with how close he was standing, the way he was staring, she almost thought that he might…

“The wound to your head, my dear, it’s gone!”

“It’s- wait, what?!” it was the last thing she’d expected him to say, reaching her own hand up to brush gingerly above her ear where the cut from the bat had been – but as he said, there was nothing. No cut, scar, not even a lingering hint of pain beneath her exploring fingertips. “Did you-?”

“-not me” he denied, “believe me, if I was capable of healing you like that I’d have done so yesterday.”

“Then… how?”

Alastor hesitated to answer, though he suspected he knew. After all, had he not only just read how succubus were able to heal themselves by drawing upon – as the book said – lustful energy? Perhaps he was not the only one who had been affected by their kiss?

“I’m… not entirely sure, my dear” he admitted with complete honesty, “but I did once read certain types of demons were able to use certain kinds of power to heal themselves.”

“I… I’ve never done that before?” Charlie chewed her lip.

“Ah, but you also admit to not knowing the full extent of your own abilities” he reminded her, tapping the end of her nose lightly, “so let’s not rule anything out quite yet, hmm? Now, have you selected the books you want? I’d rather like to retire before you throw yourself off another ladder and give this poor old man a heart attack.”

Charlie snorted a laugh, but tucked her books under her arm and looped the other through his offered elbow, “You do realise I’m older than you, right? By a few centuries at least!”

“I do, however, my mother taught me it’s rude to assume a lady's age!”

“Such a gentleman,” she laughed again.

“Are you quite ready to go back to our room, sweetheart?”

Charlie ignored the thrill she felt when he called it their room.

“I am, let’s go!”

Chapter 13: A Hunter is Hunter

Chapter Text

Sleep did not come easily for Alastor that night, not that it usually did. Still, compared with how effortlessly he’d drifted off the last three evenings the difference was stark – and the reason why was currently sleeping beside him, less than an arm’s length away.

Charlie had been the first to fall asleep, surrounded by her notebooks and glittery gel pens as she made notes from the new books she’d found. He’d observed her from the high-backed chair by the fireplace as she worked, it was always entertaining to watch her work, in his opinion. The way her lips moved with barely uttered thoughts, the little crease between her brows and the way her tongue poked out, or the fact that when she had what she thought was a particularly good idea she’d do a little happy dance where she sat. When he noticed she’d passed out with her things still surrounding her he’d given a sigh and a shake of his head, moved her items to the bedside table in a neat little pile, and tucked her in.

He’d been torn about where to sleep himself, the sofa or the bed (though he also considered the possibility of simply staying awake) but knew if she woke he’d have to explain why – something he absolutely did not want to do. So he readied himself for bed and climbed in beside her, are far away as he could get without falling out.

As they lay in the darkness with nothing but the occasional noise outside the room and the rhythmic sound of their breathing. He waited for sleep to come, but it seemed his mind had other ideas, plaguing him with thoughts of the demoness beside him – specifically torturing him with memories of her kiss.

This was ridiculous! He huffed as sleep continued to evade him. Feelings aside, there was no reason a simple kiss should have affected him so! It wasn’t like he hadn’t kissed a woman before, he’d been curious as a young man, and given his popularity when he was alive there had been more than one occasion after a few too many giggle waters someone had planted one on him. None of them had ever plagued him like this. None of them had ever left him wanting more.

He could still feel the gentle, sweet, pressure of her lips against his own. Feel the softness of her hair on his fingers, the warmth of her on his lap, hear that sharp breath she’d taken when he’d pulled her head to the side - he desperately wanted to know what other noises she might make, if the rest of her skin was as delicate as her lips. His blood burned, hands twitching with this unfamiliar need to touch her…

Alastor turned on his side, now face to face with Charlie as she slept peacefully barely an arm’s length away. It would be so easy just to reach up… he could feel his hand rising, unbidden from his conscious thoughts as those urges seemed to have taken over him completely, only to freeze when it struck him the contrasting image of his clawed hand reaching towards her. His hand, which had dealt so much pain and was more often than not soaked in blood, reached out desperate to caress the sweet softness that was Charlie. She, who avoided violence wherever she could, and treated even those who only ever had contempt for her with the utmost kindness…

With a particularly harsh growl, Alastor forced himself to flip over so he was no longer facing her at all, clutching his empty hand against his own chest, fingers flexing bereft of her touch, and reminded himself that what had happened in the library was an act. None of it was real. She did not want his touch, no one in their right mind would, nor did he deserve the privilege to do so – the fact he had taken the liberties he had when the opportunity arose and gave him an excuse to do so was yet again a testament to his own selfish nature. Yes, selfish he may be, but he would not give in to these new desires, not that there was a snowball's chance in hell she would be willing. She’d probably laugh if she knew what was going through his mind, or worse, pity him. He was just confused – these feelings, that book! All of it had just addled his mind!

He could talk to Rosie about this but the thought of embarrassing himself in such a fashion kept him firmly where he was. She would likely only encourage him anyway, feeding into the foolish hope that still held a spot in his heart despite his attempts to reason with it. Talking to Charlie was out of the question too. Another growl rose in Alastor’s chest as his hand crept into his hair, pulling it at the mere thought of telling her! He’d rather face all of heaven’s legions alone than admit to her what wicked thoughts had been running through his mind.

An arm wrapped around his torso, startling him so badly he almost fell off the bed entirely, the growl that had still been rumbling in his chest cutting off completely at the unexpected touch. He hadn’t even felt her move, so wrapped up with his own thoughts, but a quick glance down was enough to prove it was Charlie’s pale arm looped over his chest, the sleeve of her cotton pyjamas caught by her elbow. He thought, for one terrifying moment, that he’d woken her and might have to come up with a reason why – but he could feel her behind him now, nuzzling her face into his back before she seemed to settle down again, the ghost of her breath felt even though the fabric of his pyjama shirt. His racing heart seemed to return to a more even beat almost immediately, and while his blood still burned with that unfamiliar need, whatever urges he had seemed temporarily satisfied with the feel of her pressed into his back.

At least this way he could not touch her, he supposed, deciding there was no use in trying to remove her – nor did he particularly wish to. As he said, he was selfish, and while he may not permit himself to touch her he was not going to decline what she decided to give him. A recipe for disaster, perhaps, as he knew whatever this was would not last once they returned to the hotel. Princesses and monsters only happened in fairytales. Alastor lay still, listening to her steady breaths, a puff of hot air between his shoulder blades with each one, feeling impossibly weighed down beneath her warm but fragile arm, he finally felt his eyelids grow heavy and begin to close…

XXXXXX

Alastor was acting odd, Charlie thought, which was saying something as he was more often than not was odd but this was… different. She just couldn’t put her finger on why.

She remembered waking up in what she assumed was the very early hours to the rumbling sound of him growling, he wasn’t facing her so she just assumed he was dreaming, and he’d stopped once she’d wrapped her arm around him. She was relieved, not actually wanting to wake him, though she couldn’t help but wonder what in hell's name would give the Radio Demon nightmares. She’d drifted off again easily with her head resting against his back as she held him, and when she’d woken again the red sky was blazing filling the room with morning light and Alastor was no longer in the bed beside her.

No, he seemed to have been keenly waiting for her to wake – fully dressed and ready for the day himself – announcing a surprise for her before she’d even rubbed the sleep from her eyes. He'd ordered breakfast via room service, pancakes with plenty of syrup and fresh fruit (because he was determined that if she was going to enjoy ‘that sugary trash’ she may as well have something healthy with it) and he watched her while she ate, having nothing besides a mug of black coffee for himself, and regaling her with another story about something outrageous Susan did on one of his visits to Cannibal Town.

Really this was nothing too unusual – she’d had breakfast with him before at the hotel after all – but there was just something… different. Maybe in the way he held himself, the way his gaze lingered on her a second longer than was usual, or the way he would look away quickly if she ever caught him watching. Of course, it could just be wishful thinking on her part, that he’d been as affected by what happened yesterday as she had. She’d spent so long last evening thinking about the way he’d kissed her, the sensation of his clawed hands in her hair and gliding across her spine, she’d barely gotten any of the work she wanted to get done finished!

“-are you even listening, my dear?”

“Huh?” Charlie blinked and realised she’d let her mind wander, “Oh, I’m sorry Al’, what were you saying?”

“Nothing important if your mind was so adrift,” he huffed, tilting his head “What was it that stole your attention, my dear?”

“Ah-um… well, I was just t-thinking, about the hotel of course!” she covered, “I mean, I had the idea last night, but I was wondering what you’d think – movie nights went over really well, I mean after we banned Angel from picking his own films, but I was thinking about possibly implementing days out as well? We could have residents take turns deciding on an activity they want to do as a group!”

Alastor watched her with a singular raised eyebrow, a little surprised this was where her mind had been but not entirely, he knew by now that when she had an idea she had rather a one-track mind until she either implemented it or got to talk to someone (usually him) about it.

“I think you may have to give Angel Dust strict rules before letting him choose anything.”

“Probably,” she agreed, lips pressed into a thin smile, “but do you think it’s a good idea?”

“That depends, how many of these excursions will I be forced to attend?”

“Well, as a member of the hotel’s staff, I would rather you attend, but if it’s something that will make you – or anyone else - uncomfortable I wouldn’t force it,” Charlie frowned.

“Hmm, in that case, I believe it’s a marvellous idea.”

“Really!?” her eyes went huge and almost starry.

“Of course, I would not lie to you about such a thing, now would I? Perhaps your residents will take their lessons more seriously with such a reward dangled like a carrot before their faces.”

“Oh, well, it’s not really supposed to be a bribe…” Charlie frowned.

“No, but it would be better to – how should I say – encourage better behaviour rather than just have these trips be given without any effort to earn it, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I… I suppose, that does make sense, and it’s not really a bribe if it’s a reward – there are plenty of studies on how effective positive reinforcement can be for encouraging a change in people’s behaviour!”

“I will take your word for that, my dear” Alastor chuckled, sipping his coffee.

Charlie grinned at him, popping the final forkful of syrup-covered pancake in her mouth. She swallowed after chewing, dabbing the side of her mouth with a napkin in case any of the syrup had escaped. As she watched him, Alastor absentmindedly rubbed a hand over his chest, drawing her gaze and reminding her of what lay hidden beneath his shirt and jacket. “Oh! I should make you another apple before we go downstairs-“

“-I’m quite fine, sweetheart, there’s no need-“

“- Uh-huh,” she interrupted him, eyebrow raised as she fixed him with a surprisingly stern glare, “either take your shirt off and let me see so I can check the poison is gone, or eat the apple, Al’”

Her tone was commanding, not one she used often, though he suddenly wished she’d use it a lot more. He could feel himself burning at the scenarios in which she might use that voice, immediately banishing those thoughts, he swallowed thickly and was relieved his tone came out steady as he responded, “Darling, I’m beginning to think you just like undressing me!”

Charlie blinked in surprise, colour rising to her cheeks, before she rolled her eyes. The infuriating demon in front of her smiled even wider as he watched her blush, the jerk thought he was funny! Well, two can play that game.

“On second thoughts, probably a good idea you keep it on,” she made sure her voice came out with a purr, the effect it had on him was immediate – his ears pricked and angled towards her, his entire posture stiffening, eyes widening as he never took them off her – she continued, “I’d probably have a hard time keeping my hands to myself…”

“Y-you would?” Alastor was completely puzzled, his claws gripping the arms of his seat to make certain he stayed sat where he was, despite the way her voice alone seemed to lure him in. Despite the way she was looking at him, eyes half-lidded, there was an amused glint in her eye he didn’t quite trust.

“Of course!” Charlie grinned, somewhat pleased to have gotten even this tiny reaction from him, but was not so unkind to keep up her ruse and admitted, “Even I’m not above slapping an idiot. You’re eating that apple, and until that poison is out of your system, I’ll keep making you do it.”

While Charlie went about finding an apple seed to create one of the sweet monstrosities, Alastor remained exactly where he sat and forced a laugh at her little joke. Obviously, she had been joking, she wouldn’t seriously want to touch him – sure, the last time she’d seen him with his shirt off she’d touched one of his scars, but that was just her natural curiosity. She’d even asked about them which just proved as such.

He ate the silver apple without complaint when Charlie offered it to him, but when he’d finished – and he was aware she had watched him, though she tried to hide it by playing with Razzle on the sofa – cleared his throat and stood, addressing her.

“There was something else I wanted to speak to you about before we head downstairs, my dear.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head.

“I know I promised you I would not hunt again while we were here, concerned for my health as you were, and as touched as I am for that I would ask that you release me from my word…” he grimaced as he asked, eyes flickering to the floor before they met her own again as he admitted, “the food here has not been… adequate, even with Rosie feeding me scraps of what sinner meat she brought, and it’s simply not my nature to sit idle like this. I am a hunter by nature, my dear, not just appetite.”

“You don’t need to be so formal, Al’” Charlie frowned, the ghost of a laugh in her voice, attempting to understand what he’d asked. “You want to go hunting?”

“Need to. It’s my nature” he repeated, unable to think of another way to explain it to her. How was he supposed to explain that not only did the thrill of hunting satisfy his hunger, his craving for violence and blood, but helped him to quell such urges? It had struck him upon waking that he’d only had these issues regarding certain desires since she requested he stop hunting. It was no wonder he was having trouble controlling himself, pent-up as he was! He’d organized breakfast in their rooms so he might broach this subject with her, though he could easily have snuck off to hunt he’d much rather be honest about it, though the added factor that he got to enjoy her company all to himself in a way he wouldn’t had they gone downstairs for breakfast was certainly a bonus.

There was tense silence as he waited for her answer, while Charlie struggled to understand what he was attempting to tell her.

“You… need to hunt?” she tilted her head again as he nodded, “as in… literally need?”

“Some cannot get through their day without coffee, alcohol or drugs” he replied, still watching her keenly, “I need to hunt.”

She frowned, “Like an addiction?”

“Not quite,” he scoffed “an addict, with a little work, could break their habit – hunting is not something I can choose to stop. Reduce, yes, but I cannot stop. I would fear for both my health and that of those around me if I were to ever try!”

“Ahh,” Charlie nodded with some understanding, she probably should have realised it sooner really, he was a predator after all despite his cervine form. “Okay, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have made asked you not to… but promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t go starting any more fights with Vox, or anyone else for that matter. And just to check, we don’t mean hunting other demons, right?”

“Not this time. The Vox part I cannot promise, but the rest should be doable” he smirked, relived – if not a little surprised -she accepted his explanation so easily.

They exited the room to head downstairs for whatever tedious meeting they must sit through today, Alastor had half a mind to skip if he was quite honest, it was only out of duty to the woman beside him that he didn’t. He’d promised to be here, so he would be here, though it did raise a question he’d forgotten to think about when he came up with this plan of his to go hunting…

Watching her from the corner of his eye as they walked the corridors, he asked “Tell me, my dear, what might you do with the rest of your day while I hunt?”

“I’m not sure, there’s a few amenities I haven’t checked out yet – or I might go back to the library.”

Alastor’s smile turned thin, “given the events of the last few days, I’d rather you did not go there alone. I’m sure Rosie could use a spot of company-”

“-you will not pass me off to be babysat by your friends, Alastor” Charlie snorted with a roll of her eyes, “I’m sure she has better things to do. Besides, I can take Razzle with me, if anything happens I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Hmm,” it wasn’t that he doubted her, or her pet bodyguard, but he really would rather have someone he trusted keeping an eye on her too. “Perhaps I can leave my shadow, at least it can alert me much faster should you require assistance.”

They stood in the doorway of the hall now, demons moving around them without much interest, Charlie couldn’t help the little smile that tugged her lips at his suggestion – evidence alone of his concern even if he was looking around the room as if uninterested. “If it makes you feel better, Al’, I’ll see you later?”

He looked at her now, flashing a grin and sharp eyes, giving her a nod before they separated to their seats. Rosie detected something ‘off’ about Alastor’s energy the moment he sat beside her, but given his almost wild-eyed expression was wiser than to ask, while Charlie took a seat beside her uncle Asmodeus who only considered her with a smirk and raised eyebrows but said nothing regarding the energy he could feel simmering just below her usual aura. The energy coming off her companion, however, was so strong the Sin of Lust could feel it from across the room!

The meeting started and Charlie really did try to pay attention, but when Belphagor and Mammon began to bicker (the Sin of Greed wishing to decrease the funding that went into the Sin of Sloth’s drug/medical research facilities) she let her mind wander. At first, she tried to do the exercises Alastor had given her, counting the number of doors and windows in the room, and then observing the demons around her but it was much the same as yesterday and soon her interest in that began to wane too.

As was usual lately her mind began to wander to him. It really did feel as if there was something off about him this morning, though she couldn’t figure out just what it was, but if he’d really had a nightmare last night then maybe that was all it was? She knew that whenever she had a bad dream it tended to throw her off for the rest of the day!

She wished he’d tell her about it, but knew even if she brought it up it was unlikely he’d talk. He’d probably just scoff at the mere suggestion that the great Radio Demon could have nightmares! But she wanted to help him, and he’d been so sweet to her on this trip – especially after she’d gotten hurt. It was probably the only reason he’d gone along with her little ‘act’ yesterday. The fact that their little show had apparently been enough to heal the wound on her head was a whole other highly embarrassing matter, at least in her eyes. She didn’t think Alastor knew about succubus having the ability to use sexually charged energy to heal themselves, or at least she assumed he didn’t as he’d seemed as surprised as she pretended to be, and it wasn’t like she knew a whole lot about it either, only what her mother had briefly explained when she’d hit puberty. The fact that a simple kiss had turned her on enough that she was able to heal herself was awkward, and made her feel like a teenager with no control of herself again!

This little crush she seemed to have for the deer demon only seemed to get worse now she was aware of it, despite reminding herself there was absolutely no way anything could ever happen between them. Above all else, Alastor is a gentleman, her business partner and she liked to think he was her good friend as well. He’d never shown any interest in her before this trip, before their pretend relationship, she had to keep reminding herself of that. In fact, he’d never shown any interest in romance or sex at all, if you did not count that collection of romance novels hidden on the bottom shelf in their office (and she was still dying to ask him about those!)

Rosie called him ‘ace’, and Charlie was well aware of what that meant, even if he’d seemed confused by the term. Given what she knew of him, she was inclined to believe it was true, though she felt they had been playing with exactly where his carefully constructed line regarding physical intimacy actually lay as of late. Now, she wouldn’t particularly say this was a deal breaker (assuming he ever was interested, just for fun of course) but it did beg the question of how it would ever work between them, with touch definitely being one of her love languages. She was well aware of the succubus half of her nature, though it really only ever came out in the form of (what she considered to be) a rather healthy sexual appetite. Even if Alastor would be interested in a romantic relationship with her, there was no guarantee he’d want a physical one, and she’d never want to make him uncomfortable! As much as she had joked about it to him earlier if they blurred that line between friends and more than that, she really wasn’t certain she’d be able to keep her hands to herself all the time. No, better not to blur the line at all.

Not that it mattered anyway because he wasn’t interested! Besides, she’d be an idiot to do it. Despite what he said, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Vaggie’s whispered in her mind, there was still a pretty high chance the only reason he was at her hotel at all was because he was up to something. That everything he’s done or doing is just a trick. The voice was right of course, not one person (except maybe Nifty) truly believed he’d come to the hotel solely for ‘entertainment’. Low-key she’d suspected he may have been trying to get close to her to go after her parents, at least until he’d laughed in her face and told her how much he’d hate to be royalty. No, for the sake of their friendship, and whatever ulterior motives he might have, it was better she squash this crush down with the rest of the feelings she wasn’t quite ready to address yet and carry on as if nothing was the matter!

Demons began to move around her and Charlie realised with a jolt that the meeting was over and she’d spent most of it musing to herself how a relationship between herself and her totally-platonic-just-friends business partner might go. She really needed to get her mind on something else!

She could go back to the room and resume the work she’d been trying to do the night before, but something told her that she’d only let her mind continue to wander and still end up with nothing done. No, she needed something that would keep her mind off Alastor!

Charlie wandered around the lodge with Razzle fluttering after her and the occasional movement out of the corner of her eye that she assumed belonged to Alastor’s Shadow. There were plenty of activities to keep anyone entertained in a luxury lodge such as this, it didn’t take her long to come across a cinema room (which she immediately vetoed upon seeing Valentino slip inside) eventually finding a gym where there was a yoga session ongoing. She was almost tempted to join until she saw the sign for the pool.

She loved swimming. It was probably her favourite form of exercise, in fact, the hotel had a pool! They simply hadn’t done anything with it yet, but perhaps they should? Exercise is healthy for both the body and mind after all!

The pool area was mostly empty, a few others sitting on loungers around the edges as they sunned themselves under the glass ceiling, large palm trees and flowering bushes surrounding the edges to give the illusion they were outside. It was pleasant, and she smiled as she walked the edges of the room to the cubicles set at the far side. Slipping into the pool changing room, Charlie used just a little bit of magic to summon her bathing suit – admittedly she hadn’t packed one, so summoning it from her room back at the hotel took a little extra concentration – but the moment she jumped into the lukewarm water she knew it had been worth it.

The princess swam lengths, her mind focused on nothing more than the timing of her breaths to be certain she didn’t swallow any pool water, but lost count of how many she’d done before she finally decided to rest – gripping into the poolside where Razzle had patiently sat and watched, his little tongue peeking from between his lips as he stared. Her muscles ached in a way she knew she’d still be feeling later, and her lungs burned from holding her breath, but it felt good. Refreshing, even!

“I did not expect to see you here, princess” the familiar voice surprised her, though the tone was more than welcoming.

“Oh, hello Stolas” Charlie greeted the tall owl demon, noticing his daughter lay on the longer beside him and gave a little wave, “Hi Octavia!”

“…Hello” the heiress responded quietly.

“I had no idea you were such a strong swimmer,” Stolas said with a touch of amusem*nt, “I lost count of how many laps that was!”

“Me too, but I wasn’t really counting. Just needed to get out of my own head for a while.”

“Ah, yes, well… I think we all know a thing or two about that,” the owl shifted slightly in his lounger, feathers slightly ruffled, “will we be seeing you at Beelzebub’s party tonight?”

“I’d forgotten about that,” Charlie admitted, wiping water from her face, “I said I’d go, at least for an hour or two, but you know what her parties can be like…”

“Yes, I do” he chuckled, “honestly I was surprised she was able to persuade the rest of the Sins to allow her to throw one at all, then again she was rather vocal when complaining about how they’d made her promise to ‘tone it down’.”

“I thought the same,” Charlie chuckled, “so do you not swim, Stolas?”

“Oh no, not me, my feathers get in such a state when they are wet!” he eyed the water dubiously, as if worried she might splash him, but added, “Octavia, however, was on the volleyball team for her Hell school!”

“Really?!” Charlie beamed at the younger demoness, earning a wide-eyed stare from her, “so was I! Oh, we could play a bit of one-on-one if you’re up for it? I haven’t played in forever!”

“Umm…” Octavia seemed rather taken aback by the princess's enthusiasm, side-eyed her father as if worried she might bite, but at his encouraging nod she gave a slight smile as she stood from her lounger, “…okay. But I play to win.”

“Brilliant, love that spirit! Razzle, can you set up a net? I’ll find a ball!”

A few hours later Charlie finally dragged herself back to the room. Her fingers were still a little wrinkled, her hair damp at the ends, and she smelled like pool water but it had been worth it. Octavia had given her quite the challenge, the younger girl really coming out of her shell to reveal she had a very competitive streak that apparently neither she nor her father had expected. She threw herself down on the sofa and laughed when her muscles protested the harsh movement, still not regretting it at all. The pool game had been just what she needed to get her mind off of things better left alone.

She lay there for a few moments with her eyes shut still grinning to herself, almost falling into sleep in fact, but something was nagging at her. It was mid-afternoon now… shouldn’t Alastor be back?

No, no, no, she just got thoughts of the man out of her head, how did he pop back up so easily?! Charlie huffed, her smile dropping, arms folding and she scowled at the ceiling.

… that voice in her head was right though, several hours now since Alastor had gone hunting, shouldn’t he be back? Last time he’d only been gone for an hour or two, certainly no longer than it took for her to eat dinner with the Goetia’s. She sat up, still frowning. What if something had happened to him? Didn’t he say he cracked Vox’s screen when he cornered him in the bathroom yesterday? That likely wasn’t something the TV demon would let go of easily, from what she knew of him. What if Vox, or all the Vee’s, had followed him and-

“-Shadow?” she called out to the room sharply, relieved when the familiar shape popped up on the wall in front of the sofa. That alone was some comfort, she didn’t think his Shadow would be around if anything too terrible had happened to Alastor. Still, she asked, “Is Alastor… is he still out hunting? Is he okay?”

Shadow seemed to think about it a second, head tilted to the side, until it both shrugged and nodded. Charlie’s frown returned. That… was not helpful.

Turning away from the Shadow, her attention was caught by the sight of the forest and marshland that extended beyond the Lodge grounds, no doubt where Alastor had gone for his little hunt. He really should have been back by now…

… it wouldn’t be too hard to find him in there, would it?

XXXXXX

Why, Alastor wondered, he had thought a spot of hunting might help improve his renegade moods he did not know – he should have known it was nothing more than a fool's errand!

Hours it had taken, from the moment he set foot into the trees and attempted to track what seemed to be a rather sizeable herd of deer, he’d been foiled at every turn. Distracted as he was by his thoughts of Charlie, twice he’d lost the trail completely, and at one point he’d even come across a rather large group of imp and shark demons who let out startled shrieks when he raced past them in his demon from paying them little attention. They weren’t what he wanted, sitting ducks as they were, too easy to slaughter.

He wanted the chase, the bloodlust in him needed it, his precarious emotional state demanded it. By the time he’d finally caught up with the herd he was shifting from his giant form into his truly demonic form, one he usually kept hidden until he truly wished the terrify, but it seemed his normally ironclad control was slipping as he lost himself to the hunt.

His neck extended, gaining unnatural bends, his antlers creaking and cracking as they extended with each tine wickedly sharp and serrated, much more deadly than the average bucks. His face lengthened into more of a muzzle shape, never losing his trademark smile, even as flesh gave away to expose the bone beneath. He knew without looking his eyes were now nothing more than radio dials in exposed sockets. His body became larger, bulkier, arms lengthening until his claws scraped the ground and he was forced to hunch ever so slightly, his usually crimson suit hidden by the shroud of shadow that clung to his person. He looked like a nightmare, the closest likeness he’d ever seen to his demon form was the drawings he’d seen of Wendigos when he was alive. He sometimes wondered if demons like him were not the basis for such creatures in the first place.

He'd stalked the herd from downwind picking which of them he wanted before he made his move. He could have pounced from where he hid and easily had the buck within his claws, but that wouldn’t satisfy his need to chase, so he burst from the bushes as noisily as he could and startled the deer into bolting. The inhuman noise he made, a cross between a laugh and a snarl, echoed through the trees as he gave chase.

Bulky as he was in this form, he was still fast, the deer had no real chance of escaping him and they tired out much faster than he did. By the time he felled his prey, Alastor’s legs and lungs burned, but he ignored both as he cackled with absolute glee when the deer’s blood splattered his face with a swipe of his claws. It had barely stopped breathing before he began to devour it.

He wasn’t lying when he told Charlie that hunting like this was something he needed, almost as much as breathing. The longer he went without the more unsettled he would become, until his hunger got the better of him and he lashed out at whoever was closest. Something he would rather not experience ever again.

The fact he’d tried at Charlie’s request with barely a thought of the consequences was truly a testament to his feelings for her. True enough he’d promised to stop only until he was healed, and he’d honestly expected to be so by now, but the point was that he did it without question. Worse, in doing so he seemed to have developed a very different type of appetite…

He wasn’t alone as he ate. Alastor was more than aware of the rest of the demonic herd lingering nearby, omnivorous as deer normally whereas the ones in hell seemed to lean more towards being carnivorous than the earthly ones, no doubt they stayed close by in hopes of devouring whatever scraps he left behind. He stayed alert, on the off chance one of the bucks was either brave or stupid enough to challenge him (it had happened only once before) which was how he detected the new presence even with his muzzle deep in the almost hollowed-out deer carcass – though the odd scent threw him for a moment, he soon recognised who it was and lifted his head to listen and attempt to pinpoint the location of the intruder.

Why in hell would she come out here? She knew what he was doing, as curious as she was, was this really something she wanted to see? Or was this just some new cruel torture fate designed, so that he would not have a moment of peace from his oblivious tormenter?

Hearing a crack of a branch that revealed her location, Alastor crept on surprisingly silent feet given his current size and shape. She wanted to find him, fine, she’d find him… it didn’t mean he’d hide from her what he was doing, or how he was doing it. Quite the contrary in fact, if she got a taste first-hand, perhaps she’d learn to be more wary of him!

He prowled until he was behind her. The princess was easily spotted, a beacon of red and pale blonde hair moving between the dark trees not even trying to disguise her footsteps. She was damn lucky nothing else had come after her the way she stomped about! Or maybe her safety had more to do with the traitorous Shadow she was following…

He growled when he realised his own Shadow had led her to him, the damn thing should know better, but before he could even think of commanding it to return so he could punish it appropriately – she began to turn, obviously having heard his growl. Not wishing to lose the element of surprise, he took the opportunity to pounce, his roar a mix of beastly noise and radio static.

Charlie squeaked, eyes going wide, but made absolutely no move to defend herself. She even managed to back herself against a tree, effectively cornering herself as he crowded her space and made certain she wouldn’t be escaping, leaning his skeletal face closer and knowing he was drooling black liquid down his jaws, allowing a snarl to rumble deep within his chest. She never blinked, never took her eyes off his, which was rather admirable he supposed.

“Do I scare you, my dear?”

Now she blinked, the familiar voice coming from the unmoving jaw of the demon in front of her was certainly unsettling. Charlie shook her head ever so slightly and peered up at him, eyes still huge. “Alastor? Holy crap, I knew you had another form but this is… impressive.”

“Impressive?”

“Well, yeah!”

He leaned back, just far enough to be certain she was getting a good look at his current form, the way her eyes trailed up and down he knew she’d seen it all. He asked again, “Don’t I scare you?”

“I mean, yeah, for a second anyway – then I realised it was you!” she shrugged, leaning closer to get a good look at the skull he currently had for a face. It was a disturbing mixture of human and deer, even like this she knew he was still smiling, despite the lack of lips. “And don’t act like you weren’t trying to scare me either, good job you spoke when you did, I was getting ready to kick your ass!”

“Kick my ass?” he repeated sceptically.

She folded her arms, eyebrows raised, “I’m untrained, but I think I could take you.”

He actually laughed, leaning away to throw his head back as it rumbled out of his chest, his earlier irritation for her coming out here leeching away. Perhaps she was right, given the current state of his health (though with both her apple and the magic from the demon deer’s flesh in his system he was stronger now than he had been three days ago) she very likely could beat him. Even power-wise he was under no illusion that she likely was stronger than he was, but untrained power alone was only one-half of what she’d need in a real fight.

“Don’t laugh!” Charlie tried to pout, but her own smile betrayed her amusem*nt.

“Apologies my dear, no offence meant” he managed to tame his laughter to a light chuckle, leaning closer again. “So tell me, why did you follow me out here?”

“Oh…” she bit her lip, fidgeting a little, “I just… I got worried. I thought you would have been back by now, and I remembered your little fight with Vox yesterday, and I thought maybe he might have tried to get revenge because honestly he seemed like the type-“

She was cut off by Alastor’s laughter again, though it was not quite so spirited this time and held a bit of an edge to it.

“-My dear, even poisoned as I am Vox would stand no chance. I could defeat him on wit alone, have no doubt about that.”

“and if he got the rest of the Vee’s involved, could you really take them three-on-one?”

“He probably would, the coward, but yes – believe me, Charlie, I’m stronger now than I was the last time I fought them,” his tone was hard, but softened as he added, “I do wish you hadn’t come out here, I never wanted you to see me like this.”

“Really? I’ve seen you covered in way more blood and guts than this before” She eyed him, eyebrow raised, “frankly, I was beginning to wonder if you painted yourself with them more and more to see just how much carnage I’d allow you to track into the lobby before losing my temper. Which, if it’s true, Nifty is the one you better look out for.”

“I didn’t mean…” he huffed, “I know how I look in this form, sweetheart, there is no need to pretend-“

His words ended abruptly when she reached up and placed a hand ever so gently on the jaw of his exposed skull, heck, he wasn’t even certain he breathed after she did that. Had it not only just been the night before that he’d dreaded the thought of touching her with his own hand, knowing how blood soaked they could be, but here she was touching him like it was nothing– blood at all!

“Yeah, you’re pretty scary” she agreed, inspecting him closely, “buuut… I think I’ve seen scarier. You should see Satan when he really loses his temper! Yikes!”

Charlie grinned up at him, then removed her hand as he began to shrink back down in size. His neck, arms and spine all snapped and creaked as they returned to a more regular appearance, his antlers shrinking back to a smaller size, and finally, the cervine muzzle of his skull receded and flesh returned to his face. Before long he stood before her in the appearance she was most accustomed to, greying skin and fluffy red ears standing tall, still splattered with blood and gore. At least, having seen the other form, her penchant for returning from these ‘hunting’ trips in such a mess made much more sense to her at least.

“You are an odd one, Charlotte Morningstar,” said the radio demon, giving her a curious look she couldn’t quite decipher. Had he not been covered in blood, she might have said it was affectionate.

“Only one of my kind,” she joked back, “literally – sometimes I think my being this weird unknown hybrid is why my parents only had one kind, despite literally having millennia together.”

“A good thing too, I’m not sure if Hell could survive another strong-willed Morningstar child” he responded, matching her tone.

She laughed, shaking her head, “Okay, so I feel like an idiot coming out here to check on you for no reason. I can just head back to the Lodge if you want to go back to doing… whatever it was you were doing. Hunting? Eating?”

“Actually, my dear, I’ve rather had my fill – let the scavengers have the rest” he cackled, more than aware that in the time he’d been confronting her the rest of the deer herd had taken over his kill. He could hear them barely meters away, growling and snarling as they fought over the corpse of their fallen member.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite certain,” he gave her a sharp nod, “I would be a gentleman and offer you my arm, but as I’m rather covered in blood, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t.”

“Fine, but if I slip I’m aiming for you and I will take you down with me.”

He chuckled, falling into step beside her as they began heading back towards the Lodge. In her presence like this, even after hunting, Alastor was aware that the thoughts he’d had of her that kept him awake still lingered… but not quite as clearly as they had in the night. Could he really be blamed? He could admit that he’d always been aware Charlie was a very attractive demoness, and now he knew how she felt against him… it seemed this new hunger would not quite be stated by hunting as he had hoped, but at least he felt less like a tightly wound coil than he had this morning. To know she was not repulsed by his gore covered demonic form either was… interesting.

“By the by, sweetheart, why do you smell like chlorine?” he asked abruptly, getting another whiff of the pungent chemical that masked the naturally sweet-spicy cinnamon scent that was just uniquely her he’d come to love.

“The Lodge has a pool, so I went swimming – which reminds me, the Hotel has a pool but we’ve never used it. What do you think about opening it for residents, and employees, to use?”

“Expensive, but I think we could manage. Would I be expected to participate in its use?”

“Only if you wanted to.”

“I see. And, for the sake of clarification, should someone ever attempt to force me into the pool as a ‘prank’ of any kind…”

“…if Angel Dust ever dared to try and throw you in the pool, you have full permission to throw him into the pool, as long as you don’t actually try to drown him.”

“Excellent, I accept those terms.”

She snickered, lightly pushing his shoulder as they walked. “Come on, we both need a shower before either of us can show our faces at Bee’s party tonight.”

“Ah, yes, I had forgotten!”

“So had I, until Stolas reminded me.”

He scowled at the mention of the owl demon, despite what she said regarding his orientation, it still sat uncomfortably with him how much time she apparently spent with him and the ease at which she spoke of him.

“Spending time with the Goetia prince again, dear?”

If she wasn’t so utterly convinced he wasn’t interested, Charlie might have said he sounded jealous. Still, she answered with a raised eyebrow, “Not really, but I was playing volleyball with his daughter. You still want to go to the party then?”

“Why not? I enjoy a good party, and I must say given your reluctance I’m rather curious what it is you think I might not enjoy.”

“Alright,” she said in a sing-song voice as the Lodge came back into view between the branches of the trees, “don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Chapter 14: Ain't no party like...

Chapter Text

Alastor was no stranger to the fact women, more often than not, took far longer to get themselves all dolled up for a party than men did – still, he hadn’t expected Charlie to take quite as long as she did. Apparently, she had expected such an event was a possibility, as it was revealed to him that she’d packed several dresses that she struggled to choose from, and by the time he had showered off the blood and gore from his hunt, she’d only narrowed it down to three.

Charlie disappeared into the bathroom shortly after, all three dresses going with her, announcing she would be taking advantage of the claw-foot bathtub their en-suite provided rather than the shower as he had done. He’d only rolled his eyes, made a comment warning her against staying in the water long enough for her fingers to prune, and settled into the high-backed chair with a book, content to wait.

That was two hours ago and now his patience was beginning to ebb, wondering just what she could be doing in there that was taking so long! He knew she had left the bath a short while ago, having opened the door a crack to allow Razzle in, apparently needing the little goats ‘opinion’ on which dress to wear.

“Does my opinion not matter?” he’d asked with confusion, “not that I am one to brag, my dear, but I have rather the debonair sense of style if I do say so myself.”

Charlie snickered, raising an eyebrow, “That depends, do you really want to watch me change?”

His face flamed at the implication, not gracing her with an answer as he once again lifted his book to hide his face, and heard her laugh shortly before the bathroom door clicked shut again. He couldn’t answer even if he wanted to, terrified he’d admit he really wouldn’t mind watching her at all.

Twenty minutes later the princess finally exited the bathroom, having selected (with Razzle’s agreement) a simple black halter neck dress that left her shoulders and arms exposed, tapering at the waist, and falling into a layered skirt that ended just above her knees, and paired with a simple set of black pumps. Her hair was what had taken her so long, styling it in a half-up braided crown that circled her head, but having left the rest loose – not something she did often, considering no matter how much she attempted to tame it the blonde locks always became a little wild, especially if her moods went up and down. But it was nice every once in a while to leave it loose, and a party sounded like the right occasion.

Alastor had gotten up to pace while she changed, beginning to get restless as he waited, but froze to stare at her as she grinned up at him and gave a little twirl. His eye was immediately drawn to the exposed skin of her shoulders and upper back, revealed when her hair lifted ever so slightly with her spin, and her legs. Lord did this woman have legs, all that soft creamy flesh that just begged to be touched, caressed even.

“What do you think?” Charlie smiled, interrupting his thoughts.

“Elegant as always, my dear,” he was relieved when his tone came out with the regular amount of cheer, grabbing one of her hands and lifting it to his lips, “You will surely be the belle of the ball!”

Charlie blinked up at him, his gaze somehow intense even if his eyes were half-lidded, until she was able to tear her eyes away, taking her hand back from his grip to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Ha-ha, well, I wouldn’t say that… but thank you, Al’”

“Now, now, darling, no need for modesty when it is just us” he chuckled, amused to see her clear embarrassment with the compliments, unable to resist the urge to give more. “Would I ever lie to you about such a thing? Why, I will be the envy of every eligible bachelor – or bachelorette – simply to have the privilege of escorting you to this little soiree.”

This time Charlie snorted, rolled her eyes, and pushed him gently by the shoulder. “Alright, flatterer, what do you want?”

He chuckled, tucking his hands behind his back. “While I can understand the suspicion, can I not just pay my compliments to a beautiful woman without an ulterior motive?”

Ah, there it was, the tell-tale blush that turned her red cheeks even redder. “I… um… I guess so, I mean- thank you. Again. Y-you’re looking very dapper yourself!”

He preened under her compliment, even if all he’d done was repair the usual tears to his coat (though he preferred to just leave them, gave it character, each one a story of a victim's demise). What he did not expect was for Charlie’s gaze to drop slightly, a slight frown forming, and before he could ask why her hands had raised to adjust his slightly crooked bowtie. When she was done she let her hands linger against his chest a moment, expression unreadable, before she turned away from him sharply.

“Well, should we get going?” she chirped (perhaps a little louder than she’d meant to), looking back over her shoulder at him with her usual smile, “We don’t want the party to end before we even get there!”

He fell into step beside her without a word, not quite sure he could speak considering his tongue seemed to have turned to lead – ridiculous reaction really, it was not the first time another person had adjusted his tie for crying out loud. Even Rosie had done so on occasion, though she did normally ask before going ahead and touching him. Absurd is what it is, the way his heart pounded in his chest. The way he was hyperaware of her as she walked beside him.

Why couldn’t he bring himself to care?

Was it because of how unafraid of his monstrous form she’d been back in the woods? Or had he simply relaxed having let off most of his tense energy when hunting? But he was playing with fire, allowing himself to read too much into what was no doubt merely friendly gestures on her part. Loathe he was to admit, the only end he could see in sight for such weakness was a broken heart (non-existent as it was) on his part.

Walking beside him Charlie was similarly caught up in her own thoughts, mostly scolding herself, knowing full well that Alastor’s flattering comments meant very little even if on the off chance they were sincere. Heck, the man would probably compliment Mimzy in the same fashion and he barely seemed to tolerate her half the time. There was no reason for the butterflies in her stomach, and why in Hell had she decided to mess with his tie? Yes, it had been crooked, but it more often than not was a little wonky given his nervous habit of adjusting it. She didn’t have to straighten it, and she certainly didn’t have to feel up his chest afterwards! But the way he’d stilled under her touch, the way he watched her curiously with eyes half-lidded and a genuine smile stretching his lips, lips she now knew were soft and demanding, especially when his hand reached into her hair and… woah, that way dangerous thoughts lie!

Charlie physically shook the thought from her head, catching Alastor’s eye when he gave her a curious look, but only smiled without explaining. They had reached the final staircase by now, and could already hear the music, Alastor’s attention quickly stolen by the heady techno beat.

“Is…is that supposed to be music?” he asked, ear twitching.

“Yeah!” Charlie giggled at his dubious expression, “I told you, Bee’s parties can get a little… wild. Are you still sure you want to go, we don’t have to-?”

Cutting off her words with a sharp glance, affronted by the insinuation he could not handle a little party (bad ‘music’ or not) Alastor tugged on his jacket lapels and said, “Nonsense, my dear! Why, I went to many a ‘wild’ party back in my hay day, I assure you!”

Pressing her lips together, Charlie resisted the urge to laugh, but there really was no use arguing with him – she had learned that much in the months since they met. If Alastor decided to do something there was usually very little that could sway him otherwise. Without another word she began walking down the stairs, aware of him following half a step behind.

She paused by the tall doors, giving him one last chance to back out (despite knowing he wouldn’t take it) before pushing the door open. If she could have taken a picture of Alastor’s face when they walked into Bee’s party, it would have been one of those pictures she kept for days when she felt down and needed a laugh. His entire body seemed to freeze as the pulsing music washed over them, eyes widening as he took in the scene before them. Charlie lifted her hand to her face and bit her knuckle to try to suppress her giggle, she did try to warn him Bee’s parties were not his kind of scene, but he’d not listened!

Alastor could only stare with abject horror at the spectacle before him. The Lodge’s main hall had been completely transformed from the dull and boring way it looked during the morning meetings, though many of the little tables still remained, the room was mostly dark save for a few neon yellow and red strobing lights that mostly illuminated the impromptu dance floor in the centre of the room. The bar was open, but each of the tables had a flowing fountain on a honey-coloured liquid Charlie explained to him was Beelzejuice, one of the strongest drinks in Hell. Demons mingled with drinks in hand, laughing freely, while others danced (or at least he thought it was a dance, in Alastor’s opinion it looked more like they were standing on a hot surface trying not to burn their feet) to the screeching sound he suspected was supposed to be music, the apparent manners of their titles and stations forgotten for the night.

Nothing about this seemed like a party to him, more like torture to each and every one of his five senses, but Charlie seemed to be happy. He’d barely managed to adjust himself to the onslaught of noise, smells and other things he’d rather not think about before Charlie had been whisked away from him.

“Ahh, Char-char you made it!” Bee was flittering a few inches off the ground, a set of hands grabbing Charlie’s own while her other set rested on the princess's shoulders, and spun her around, causing Charlie to laugh loudly. “I’m so glad, come on, come dance with me!”

“I-well…” Charlie hesitated, pulling back ever so slightly from her aunt's embrace, glancing at Alastor. Bee smirked when she saw this, raising an eyebrow as she wondered what the Sinner might say.

Alastor met her questioning eyes, clearly reluctant to abandon him, which he supposed was rather touching. He would not, however, be what stood between her and a good time. He mustered up his most charming smile, “Now, darling, do not hold yourself back on my behalf.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite. I think I will simply observe from afar and enjoy a stiff drink. Have fun!”

Her hesitation broke way into a grin, “I promise I won’t be long!”

“And I promise she will be!” Bee cackled, dragging Charlie away towards the dance floor.

Watching them go, Alastor stayed where he stood for at least as long as it took for them to disappear into the crowd, then headed towards the bar at the side to order that drink. Once he had his glass of whisky in hand, though he would never admit it was not quite on par with what Husk could brew, he found an empty table in the far corner where he could observe the dance floor, finding a head of pale blonde among the crowd. Charlie had her head thrown back, hands in the air – one of which now held a red cup that sloshed a small amount of that honey-coloured drink as she moved – and her eyes shut as she danced without a care. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, lifting his own glass to his lips as he did.

Despite the atrocious din they seemed to think was music, the beat of which was almost loud enough to rattle his bones, and the rather boorish attempts to dance to it, he had to admit there was a small part of him that was enjoying watching her have fun. She had been right before to assume that this party was not the kind he would enjoy (not that he’d ever admit it out loud) but he could tolerate it for a while he supposed, as long as he got to keep watching her smile. He could be content.

Naturally, it wasn’t long before his peace was disturbed.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Alastor… what, did the princess finally ditch you?” the slightly slurred voice was easy to recognise, though he wished he didn’t. It took all of the deer demon's self-control not to let his ears flatten in pure annoyance in fact, but did not allow Vox to steal his attention and merely glanced at him uninterestedly – though, he was pleased to note there was still a crack on his screen. The television demon was curiously without his usual compatriots and looked a little worse for wear, half-drunk glass in his own hand as his screen glitched again.

“Oh, what, you gonna pretend you didn’t hear me now?! I know you did, with those f*cked up looking ears of yours, what’s with that?”

“For a man with a rather breakable screen for his face, one would think you’d know not to throw stones at another’s appearance.” Alastor reminded him sharply, still never taking his eyes off the dance floor.

“Ha! So you can hear me!” Vox slurred again, clearly drunk, taking a few more staggering steps closer. “Did Lucifer’s little hell-spawn finally get sick of you following her around like a little lap dog, huh? She really must be stupid if she- hrgh!”

Vox’s words were cut short when Alastor stood suddenly, his hands closing around the television demon's throat as his antlers cracked and grew, glaring down at him with what he knew was a deadly unnatural grin and dials for eyes. Vox’s fingers fumbled to try and pry the ones on his throat loose, apparently forgetting in his inebriated state that he had any other means with which to free himself. In the low light and noise of the party around them, very few noticed the brewing fight between the Radio Demon and Vox, and those who did were either too drunk to care or too curious to see what might happen next.

“Let me make one thing very clear, old friend, you may call me all the names you wish – Hell knows I care so little about your opinion I hardly notice, but do not insult the princess in front of me if you wish to keep what remains of your screen in one piece, understand?” Alastor snarled it, and when Vox – as startled as he was drunk- nodded, pulled back ever so slightly but did not loosen his grip on his throat just yet. He added, “and while we are on the subject, ‘lap dog’ you may see, but I have spent this week cultivating a reputation with the Sins themselves that the Vee’s could only ever dream of achieving. Now, get out of my sight, before I decide the next screams I broadcast should be yours!”

Alastor pushed Vox away as he released his grip on his throat, forcing the other demon to stumble back a few steps, still snarling. For a second it looked as though Vox would be smart and heed the warning, however when he glanced around and saw a few eyes watching he began to sneer, standing straighter but still swaying ever so slightly on his feet. He raised a finger, opening his mouth – and was interrupted before he could get a single (and no doubt stupid) word out.

“Now, now, boys I think that is quite enough roughhousing for one night,” Rosie’s tone was sharp, coming to stand between the two men as her dark glare flickered between the pair, “this is supposed to be a party! Vox, I’d say you’ve had rather enough Beelzejuice for one evening. Why don’t you run along and find those friends of yours, before your mouth gets you into more trouble?”

Again Vox looked like he might argue, but perhaps at least one brain cell was able to make it through the fog of alcohol as he glanced again at the seething expression Alastor still wore, seemingly thinking twice about whatever he was going to say. Taking Rosies offered out without a word, the television demon merely turned on his heel and stalked away without another word – though he did bump into a few chairs, apparently having difficulty with walking in a straight line.

“Well, now that the trash has taken itself out, why don’t we take a seat and enjoy a beverage or two ourselves?” the cannibal queen said, dusting off her hands, and regarding Alastor carefully. His antlers and eyes had returned to their regular forms, but there was still something about his grin that promised pain, though, it did that normally she supposed.

“Your intervention was not necessary,” Alastor huffed but returned to his seat and sipped his glass as Rosie took up one of the empty chairs beside him, flagging down a passing Imp and ordering a glass of wine for herself.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Rosie replied, accepting the glass of wine graciously when the waiter returned, “but I sincerely doubt the Sins would be pleased if their party got spoiled by any unnecessary fighting – nor would Charlie, and the poor dear has had rather a time of it these last few days, it’s nice to see her enjoying herself.”

“Yes, it is…” he murmured in agreement, eyes once again searching the dancefloor until he found her, oddly enough meeting her ruby gaze even from across the room almost as if she’d been watching him too. Though, from the grin she had, he doubted it. Rosie was right, and if Charlie had seen his little encounter with Vox she probably wouldn’t be smiling.

“It’s a relief to find you, Carmilla and Zestial made a brief appearance but quickly decided this little gathering wasn’t to their tastes and I’ve been rather bored since. Though, I’m rather surprised you’re here at all, I know these kinds of parties aren’t your thing!”

“As you said, Charlie is enjoying herself, who am I to ruin her fun and leave her unescorted?” he replied, tearing his gaze from Charlie’s and forcing himself to look at Rosie instead, “but what is your excuse, my dear Rosie, I never knew you were such a party animal yourself!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I rather prefer a more classical atmosphere, but I must say the energy here is rather invigorating! And the music is not half bad once you get a feel for the beat.”

“My dear, this is not music, this is just noise – how these people are dancing, and I’m not even sure what they are doing over there can be called dancing, is beyond my understanding!”

“And I suppose morbid curiosity is the only reason your eye keeps wandering to the dancefloor, hmm?” Rosie sipped her wine, quirking an eyebrow, “It has nothing to do with the pretty young thing you’re currently pining for?”

He threw her a glare but said nothing, lifting his own glass to his lips once more.

“Come now, Alastor, you know I’m only kidding. But as your friend, I had begun to wonder if you’d come to a conclusion yet about what you’re going to do with these feelings of yours?”

“I did,” Alastor answered her, lifting his chin and refusing to meet her gaze, “and I’ve decided to do nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Care to walk me through that decision?” Rosie tilted her head with a little frown, “Because I heard a rumour the two of you were getting awfully close in the library yesterday. It certainly didn’t sound like ‘nothing’ to me!”

Jerking to stare at her, he asked “How did you-?”

“Beelzebub is rather the gossip, and you do know how I enjoy a good natter. Now explain!”

“The library was just an act meant to scare off her ex-lover.” Alastor waved a hand to dismiss the topic, “As for the rest I’ve decided it would be best for us both if I were to refrain from acting on such urges. You were right about honesty, and I simply cannot give her the truth she deserves, nor can I be someone she deserves. Despite it all, I cannot seem to resist whatever crumbs of affection – false as it may be – she finds reason to bestow on me. I’m confident that when we return to the hotel and our usual dynamic is restored, such feelings will be easier to ignore, and with time, will fade away entirely.”

Rosie’s frown doubled as he spoke, but she was familiar with the tone he used. She could argue with him, but it would be a waste of her breath, stubborn fool that the man was when he’d made a decision. Not that she’d lost hope for this pair, no matter what Alastor said or thought, she’d seen the way the princess looked at him – he may be blind to it, but Rosie wasn’t.

“A pity,” she mused over her wine glass, “I could see you two giving Romeo and Juliet a run for their money in the star-crossed romance department.”

Alastor cast her a sidelong glance, “If anything that proves my point, Rosie. You do recall that play ended in tragedy, yes?”

“Pish-posh, Alastor, they were just foolish kids who, let’s face it, certainly could have handled the situation better.”

“Who could have handled what better?” Charlie asked a little breathlessly, practically collapsing into the seat on Alastor’s other side as she fanned herself with one hand, grimacing a bit as she added, “Sorry, just got a little overheated out there!”

“We were just discussing Romeo and Juliet,” Rosie piped up, smirking at Alastor’s disgruntled expression.

Charlie wrinkled her nose, “Rome and who?”

“Romeo and Juliet, my dear, it’s rather widely regarded as the most famous love story of all time, or at least it was in the human realm,” Alastor explained, taking in her befuddled look.

“It’s a tragic story of two young lovers who are supposed to be enemies but instead find themselves falling in love” Rosie added as an explanation, noting the interest on Charlie’s face.

“I love a good romance” Charlie grinned, “I’ll have to see if we have it in the library at home, if it’s as famous as you say it is we must have a copy somewhere!”

Alastor grimaced and tried to warn, “It doesn’t have a happy-“

“-shh, Alastor, don’t ruin it for her” Rosie nudged him.

“Yeah, Al’, no spoilers!” Charlie laughed, leaning close enough to bump their shoulders as she teased.

He tensed at the touch, more aware that Rosie would likely read more than there was into it if he allowed it to continue than because he was truly bothered by it, not wishing to fuel any more ideas she had about star-crossed lovers or the likes.

“You seemed to be having fun, princess” Rosie addressed Charlie directly, “I was just telling Alastor how delighted I was to see you up on your feet and enjoying yourself after what happened the other day. I assume your head is feeling much better?”

“Oh, yes, my head is fine – and I haven’t danced like that in a long time. Too long, probably,” Charlie leaned a little closer, practically on the edge of her seat now, so Rosie could hear her over the music. She seemed to get an idea suddenly, her entire face lighting up as her gaze shifted to Alastor, “Hey, Al’, maybe we should take everyone out dancing as our first group activity?!”

She was practically leaning across his knees, looking up at him with those big hopeful eyes and a grin he adored, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab her. Pull her completely onto his lap and kiss her as he had done in the library. His hand twitched at the thought, though he forced himself to make a fist and squash the impulse down, fighting to keep his expression completely stoic. He was about to answer her when Charlie slipped off her chair completely. She managed to catch herself, one hand grasping the table, but her other landed heavily on the top of his thigh, squeezing out of surprise.

Alastor stood abruptly enough for his chair to fall back with a clatter, though it was barely heard over the music, dislodging her hand and causing both demonesses to stare at him.

“I think I will fetch us more refreshments!” the deer demon announced in clipped tones, looking neither of them in the eye, and stalking away towards the bar not even lingering long enough to pick up the chair he’d knocked over.

“Crap, I didn’t mean to… it was an accident!” Charlie fretted as she watched him go, sitting more squarely in her own seat as she played with the hem of her dress, the happy buzz she’d been feeling from dancing and having a few cups of Beelzejuice herself beginning to ebb.

“Oh don’t mind him, dear,” Rosie rolled her eyes and sipped her wine, “he’s just being a man- making everything far more complicated than it needs to be. Tell me, have you heard any more from your delightfully entertaining hotel guests lately?”

At the bar, Alastor glanced back at the table he’d abandoned only once, not certain if he was relieved to see Rosie and Charlie deep in conversation or if he should be worried about what Rosie might say left alone with her. His abrupt exit had not been the smoothest, he knew, but his thigh still burned where her hand had gripped…

It was a generally well-known rule amongst those he spent time with that he did not like being touched, though he was not against initiating it himself. Some, like Mimzy, often pushed that boundary to see what they could get away with. Others, such as Rosie and Nifty, had earned enough trust that he’d let them get away with the occasional gesture. Charlie, it seemed, always did her best to respect his dislike of touch though she did sometimes forget herself in moments of high emotion, at first he’d thought it a little vexing but endearing how she’d attempt to make up for her slips in the rule. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment he’d begun not to mind these touches, and he certainly couldn’t tell when he’d begun to crave them. Yearning for the way her touches set his skin on fire so delightfully…

He was no fool. This trip had highlighted to him just how much he wanted her, in every sense of the word, and no matter what he’d said to Rosie he wasn’t entirely confident it would simply ‘go away’ if he simply willed it. He hungered for her, more than he’d ever hungered for demon flesh, despite knowing it was no more than a fool's dream that she’d ever consider him.

In short, if he was unable to get a better handle on the situation, he was in trouble.

Before he could dwell too long he was dumped by another patron of the bar, turning to give the offender a look that he knew in the past was rather effective at encouraging them to give him more space, however, he knew it wouldn’t work when he saw the offender. Charlie’s ex-boyfriend was leaning against the bar beside him, glaring through bleary eyes and swaying on his feet, looking almost as drunk as Vox had earlier.

“I don’t know what she sees in you, you’re just a sinner” Seviathan slurred, still glaring.

“And you, meanwhile, are an outstanding example of demonic masculinity?” Alastor raised an eyebrow, looking the other man up and down.

Seviathan flushed but doubled down. “I’m better for her than you. She’ll realise that, eventually.”

It hit a nerve, and Alastor did his best to suppress the sneer that tried to crawl onto his face, not wishing to let him know. He tucked his hands behind his back, claws digging into his own wrists, attempting to avoid throttling the imbecile as he had Vox.

“She might,” Alastor was loathed to agree, the words feeling sour on his tongue, meeting Seviathan’s glare with one of his own, “but even in that instance, I highly doubt Charlie’s self-esteem would ever be so low as to accept a self-centred man child, so under his own families thumb he refused to defend her when his own sister physically assaulted her!”

As the words hit him Seviathan at least had the decency to look ashamed, dropping his glare as he turned to face the bar and the drink the server had just dropped in front of him. “It wasn’t like that…”

“Then do tell, what was it like?” Alastor continued to scowl, “Not that it matters, but I can see no good reason when you have an angel such as Charlie on your arm, not to have leapt to her aid – or where you simply too cowardly to do so?”

“Alright fine, I’m a coward!” Seviathan spat, throwing his drink back with one gulp, he turned to Alastor and pointed as he spat, “But it’s not as if a sinner like you could do much better. Charlie’s terrifying when she gets angry like that, and my sister, well she’s just f*cking crazy…”

“Wrong again!” Alastor taunted in a sing-song voice as he sneered, “You see, unlike you, I’m not a coward. Should anyone dare to harm a single hair on her head in my presence, I would make certain they know the colour of their own spleen, and broadcast their screams for the whole of Hell to hear as I tore them apart.”

Not to mention that while he had not seen Charlie lose her temper yet, only fleeting glimpses here and there, it was something he was more intrigued to see than afraid. His curiosity had been slowly building ever since they met, peaking after he heard of her transformation during the battle that he had missed, renewed with this confession of her ex-paramours. The Von Eldritch heir might think her terrifying, but he suspected he’d have a very different opinion

“You know she’d hate that, right?” Seviathan snorted, tapping a nail against his empty glass thoughtlessly.

“I do. I’d still do it.” Alastor agreed in a quieter tone, adding “She can hate me, but others will know what lies in wait for them should touch her, that’s all that matters.”

“Hmm,” Seviathan hummed drunkenly, regarding Alastor from the corner of his eye, “maybe you really do love her. You still don’t deserve her though…”

“Neither do you” came Alastor’s sharp retort, standing rigidly beside the demon who had so easily labelled the feelings he was trying to hide.

Surprisingly, Seviathan chuckled, “Yeah… you’re probably right. At least we can agree on something.”

XXXXXX

Back at the table, Rosie was telling an animated story of something scandalous Susan had done, but try as she might Charlie couldn’t bring herself to pay much attention and simply gave a polite hum when she thought she was supposed to respond.

Alastor really had been gone a while, he’d said he was only going to the bar after all, but the space between it and the table had become crowded and she couldn’t seem to catch a glimpse of him through the throng of demons between them. She hadn’t touched another drop of alcohol since he stood up, she really hadn’t meant to practically fall into his lap like that, cursing herself. She hoped he wasn’t too mad…

Charlie was craning her neck again to try and see through the crowd while Rosie threw her head back and laughed uproariously at whatever she’d just said, still not having much luck in spotting Al’, when something else caught her attention.

“Your drink, m’lord”

It should have been a completely innocent phrase, there were servers mingling around the party delivering drinks between the tables and bar for anyone who did not wish to drink from the provided Beelzejuice fountains, the words had no doubt been uttered around her a dozen times over at this point. But this voice… Charlie turned to it, spotting the squat-looking shark demon in an ill-fitting suit waddling around with his tray. She didn’t recognise him, but she recognised his voice.

Keeping her eyes on him was hard, considering he was a lot smaller than most of the demons around them, but Charlie managed to keep him in her sights as he shuffled off once his tray was empty. She expected him to go back to the bar, as most of the wait staff were doing, but as she watched the shark demon made his way to a side door at the back of the room, glanced around to see if anyone noticed, then slipped out of the hall.

“-Charlie, dear, is everything okay?” Rosie asked, seemingly aware that the princess wasn’t paying attention.

“Ahh…” Charlie began to stand, keeping her eyes on the door the shark demon had exited through, “I’m not sure – I’m sorry Rosie, I’ll be right back!”

She heard Rosie say something but the words didn’t register as Charlie dashed off to follow the squat little demon, absolutely certain that she’d heard his voice the day she’d been attacked. But why would he attack her? She didn’t even recognise him! Had fear of a war with heaven really driven random demons to try to beat her with baseball bats?! Perhaps if she caught up with him she could ask…

When she reached the door and slipped out of the party, making certain the door shut quietly behind her, she was dismayed to find the hallway beyond was already empty. Dammit, which way did he go?

Hands-on her hips and tapping a foot, Charlie was just about to pick a random direction when she heard a door slam to her left. With no sounds of life coming from the right she decided it was as good a clue as any and took off towards the sound. When she began to hear voices, Charlie slowed her steps, frowning as she listened.

“-f*cking nightmare out there, when are we gonna get the job done?!” she heard the squat shark demon she’d been following curse.

“Calm down, Stan, we’ll get it done tonight” a gruff voice answered, “that creepy cowboy the boss hired is gonna grab the Goetia princess, while everyone’s distracted that’s when we strike!”

Charlie froze where she stood now right outside the door, able to see a small crowd of Imps and Shark demons, most wearing the Lodges staff uniforms while others wore grey suits. What did they mean by ‘grab’ the Goetia princess? As far as she knew there was only Octavia who could fit that description…

“And don’t no one f*ck up either,” added a deeper voice, “boss is waiting outside in the getaway car to be sure no one screws up.”

“Yeah Stan, no screw-ups” This voice was high and nasal, with a taunting tone, “Did you manage to slip that bitch the poison or not?!”

“f*ck you, Marty! Of course I f*cking did, I ain’t no screw-up!”

Feeling her blood run cold, Charlie’s eyes widened. Poison? Where they… where they planning to poison Octavia?! Why!? No, wait, that didn’t matter! She had to find Stolas or Paimon, she had to warn-

“Ain’t your folks ever taught you It’s rude to eavesdrop?” the voice growled low beside her ear.

Charlie tried to let out a yelp of surprise, but a gloved hand was slapped over her mouth to smother it, pulling her back against a lithe solid body behind her, at the same time feeling a sharp prick against her neck. She felt something like ice in her veins from the spot, but before she could really wrap her head around what had just happened, the hand on her mouth was removed and she was shoved through the door of the room by a heavy boot kicking her in the back.

“You f*cking morons ain’t even check to see if you being followed?” the growling voice addressed the room loudly, startling them all, and Charlie finally got a look at the tall pale imp with twisting green eyes and a battered black Stetson hat. The cowboy she overheard them talking about earlier, she guessed. The group of demons began yelling amongst themselves, mostly placing blame and insults about their plan being ruined, but Charlie didn’t care. She tried to lift herself off the floor, but whatever he’d injected into her neck and spread like icy fire quickly throughout her body and made her movements stiff, her stomach rolling with nausea already.

“What-?” she managed to gasp, a hand reaching for her neck as she managed to sit up. Poison wasn’t normally something she had to worry about, considering so few worked on her in the past, though they could make her feel a little Ill. This felt different.

The cowboy imp noticed her struggle, and crouched down to watch her as if she were a particularly interesting bug, he chuckled, “Feelin’ a bit slow there princess? Ah-ha, gotta say I wasn’t sure it’d work on a demon of your calibre, but it’s in your system faster than that Goetia brats!”

“No-“ Charlie whimpered, realising they had already done whatever it was they were planning to do to Octavia, beginning to feel dizzy. The room was spinning, but she was of aware the demons around her were surrounding her, the lights and shadows moved too. She tried to get to her feet, using the furniture to try to pull herself up, but fell back down again while the demons around her jeered and laughed. Sick as she felt, the sound of it pissed her off.

When Charlie felt that familiar tingle in her fingertips and the magic building, she didn’t fight it, but when she tried to summon a fireball – something so simple she’d been doing it since she was a child – it wouldn’t obey. Colourful sparks exploded from her hands, the demons surrounding her flinching back with alarmed cries and yelps when the sparks hit them.

“sh*t-!” the cowboy imp cursed as he recoiled, patting out a spark that landed on his vest, hissing as he glared at her. He removed a coil of silver blessed rope from his pocket, gripping Charlie by her hair and forcing her to turn around. The imp forced her hands behind her back and she felt him trying to bind her wrists with the rope, even as more sparks flew erratically from her fingertips.

Some of the sparks shot around the room like fireworks, landing on the long curtains that immediately caught fire, forcing a large shark demon to pull them down and stomp it out.

Charlie could still feel the magic in her building, a hot pulsing force that seemed to be wreaking through her body in waves, each one stronger than the last, that made the icy feel of the poison in her system sting. As her body weakened her magic seemed to grow stronger, more uncontrollable. She wasn’t sure what scared her more, whatever they were planning or what might happen if she didn’t get some control of herself soon. Even when the rope was fastened around her wrists, keeping her hands behind her back, the sparks didn’t stop. Not that she was going to tell them holy rope wouldn’t work on her.

“Calm down, Your Highness-“ the tall imp flipped her over again, spitting out her title like it was a personal insult to him to even say those words, “-we ain’t gonna kill ya, so keep the light show down. You’re just the bait, your daddy’s the catch. One of you morons take her – I’ll finish the job.”

The rest of the sharks and imps hesitated to come close, some having taken up positions behind furniture to hide from the explosive magic, but the large shark who had stomped out the curtain flames eventually stepped forward. Wordlessly he picked Charlie up, feeling too weak to fight back against the massive demon, and threw her over his shoulder seemingly unfazed when a few sparks hit him.

With the princess secured, and the way mostly clear, the rest of the demons in the room began to scatter – with the tall cowboy imp stalking out of the room first. Finish the job, Charlie still had the awareness to assume, meant he was probably going after Octavia. She still didn’t understand why, though his comment about her father being ‘the catch’ made it plain to her they planned to exploit her capture as leverage against her father for… something. money or power, probably. Were they going to try the same with Octavia? It didn’t make sense they’d want them both.

“Y-you’ve got me-“ Charlie managed to croak, shifting just enough to glimpse the side of the face of the demon who carried her, “-you… you don’t need… leave her alone.”

The demon merely grunted, heading for the glass doors that led outside, saying nothing.

Charlie wanted to scream. She wanted to struggle, she wanted to fight, kick, scratch – she wanted her magic to obey her! Whatever that poison was it had stolen her strength, her limbs like lead, and weak as a kitten. Magic continued to pulse through her completely out of her control, almost painful, and she knew from the ache at her temples that her horns were on full display – her eyes had probably changed too, against her will. Her magic pulsed again, hot and stronger than it had been a moment ago, this time causing her to shut her eyes from the pain of it, gritting her teeth as her ears began to ring…

… or maybe it wasn’t ringing, she was hearing. The magic ebbed away again but she could still hear screeching, a tell-tale high pitched feedback, this time followed by yelling and screams. Charlie opened her eyes, though her vision was hazy, she could still see the dark shapes that grabbed at the panicking imps and shark demons who desperately tried to escape – and the massive red shape that cackled and snarled with a familiar grin on its face the whole time.

“Al-“ Charlie wheezed, getting jostled as the demon who carried her attempted to escape the carnage, “Alas-tor?”

Alastor had been so focused on shredding the fools who thought attacking the princess was a good idea, ever since his shadow had alerted him and Rosie to the situation, that he hadn’t noticed the shark demon attempting to carry her away. The second he heard his name on her gasping breath however, ear flickering towards the sound, his entire focus shifted – focusing on her. The demon who held her wore a comically panicked expression when he realised this, scrambling to try and escape through the glass doors, not that he got far. Alastor’s shadows caught Bruce's feet, sending both him and Charlie to the floor. The princess moaned but barely felt the pain of the fall, despite colliding with the hard surface, the magic still pulsing through her painfully. Distracted as she was by it, she barely noticed Bruce's screams as Alastor devoured him, before shrinking down to his usual size and immediately rushing to her side. He didn’t pay much attention to the few other demons still scrambling to escape – Rosie was making quick work of them, jaw unhinging like a snake as she devoured one whole, cackling madly as she did. She really didn’t get to let loose like this very often.

“Charlie!” Alastor was quick to scoop her off the floor, keen eyes roving over her for signs of injury, setting her on a chaise as he crouched beside her. He could not immediately see any injuries, but from the way she was whimpering, the sheen of sweat on her skin, and the persistent display of her demonic eyes and horns, he knew something was wrong.

He growled when he realised her hands had been bound, hissing when the silver blessed rope burned him as he used a claw to slice through, freeing her hands that sparked with colourful flames. He moved to dodge her magic, frowning when he noticed the puncture mark on her neck – spotting the yellow veins that sprawled from it like lightening across her skin, eerily similar to the golden ones that had been plaguing him from the wound to his chest.

He wished he’d not eaten her captor. He wished he’d kept him alive so he could inflict the same poison on him and broadcast his suffering screams.

“Alastor, how is she?” Rosie rejoined them, dabbing a spot of black demon blood from the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief that she tucked back into her pocket.

“She’s been poisoned, I believe” he replied, barely keeping the snarl from his voice and eyes never leaving Charlie’s. She was watching him too, one of her still-sparking hands reaching out to grip the lapel of his jacket. She’d leave burn marks on his coat, but he didn’t care, covering her hand with his own, mildly alarmed at just how hot her skin was to touch. “Rosie, be a dear and go back to the party, see if you cannot find one of the sins and bring them here. Preferably Belphegor, she seems to have some medical skill.”

“Of course!” the overlord agreed, adding with a sympathetic glance to the princess “Don’t you worry, Charlie, we’ll take care of you.”

Charlie barely registered the words, though she was vaguely aware of them, keeping her eyes on Alastor’s crimson ones. Even through the haze in her vision, she could see them clearly and knew he was watching her too, though she was forced to shut her eyes as another wave of magic washed through her – causing her to shout as her back arched off the lounge from the force of it. The magic seemed to be building up to something, and she felt as if her skin would begin to fray with the effort to keep it contained, scared of what might happen if it escaped. She needed Alastor to get away if that happened, and she needed him to do something she couldn’t.

“Al’…” she panted, eyes opening again as soon as the magic subsided again. “A-Alastor, I-I need…”

“Shh, sweetheart, Rosie will be back with your aunt soon…”

“No!” her grip on his lapel tightened, sparks exploding with an alarming intensity from her other hand, a note of urgency in her tone that caught his attention. “I… I need y-you to find Stolas! They… his daughter…poison…”

“I can't just leave you here like this, Charlie” Alastor scowled at the mere thought, getting the gist of what she was trying to say, brushing some of her loose hair from her face, “Let's wait for Rosie to come back, we can-“

“-No! Please!” she cried this time, desperate “P-please, Alastor!”

“Charlie-“

“I-I’ll…be fine, please” Talking was frustrating her, gasping to catch her breath between each word and gritting her teeth to try to explain. “Poison… will be gone soon. Magic... P-please. She’s just a kid.”

Alastor was torn, if he understood correctly then the young owl demoness he’d met the first night was also a target of this attack, which meant more than just the small group he and Rosie had just torn apart where behind this, and that she too was in danger. Charlie seemed to think that whatever she’d been poisoned with wouldn’t last long, though he sincerely doubted it considering the state she was in, another good reason not to leave her. Like this, Charlie could not defend herself. Physically weak as she was, and seemingly with no control of her powers if the way she kept emitting seemingly random sparks was anything to go by, if one of the cretins was to come back she’d be the proverbial sitting duck!

She gave a tug on his coat again, “Please, Alastor…”

Yet, here she was, begging him to run off and save the child. He wasn’t shocked, it was just like Charlie to be more worried for another than she was herself. Had it been anyone else, any other situation, he’d have ignored the foolish request without hesitance. However, Charlie was right. The girl was little more than a child, and if anything happened to the Goetia heiress because they were all focused on the princess, Charlie likely wouldn’t forgive herself – nor him, for being able to do something and choosing not to.

He debated sending his shadow to find the owl prince, at least then he would not have to leave her side, but communication would be a problem.

“Alastor…” Charlie pleaded with him again, desperate.

“Fine!” he snapped at her, not bothering to hide the growl in his tone, “I will find the pompous owl and alert him to the danger, but I do so under duress, and will leave my shadow with you, reckless as it is to leave you like this.”

He made to move, the sooner he found the Goetia the sooner he could return to her side after all, but hesitated when she didn’t release her grip on his coat and faced her again.

Charlie blinked to try and clear her bleary eyes to see him better, managing a small smile. “Thank you, Al’”

He didn’t know why he did it, why – in that moment, hearing the relief in her voice as she thanked him – it felt appropriate. He just did. He surged forward without thought, giving her no time to react, and pressed his lips against hers in a firm, if not chaste, kiss.

He’d left the room before Charlie realised what happened.

Chapter 15: It wants to break free...

Chapter Text

Alastor realised the gravity of what he had done in stealing a kiss from Charlie as they parted almost the second he was out of her sight, but thankfully he did not have long to dwell on how idiotic the action was. With any luck, she may not even remember it!

He needed to find the damn owl prince. The second he could pass on the message that his daughter was in danger the better, though his smile had become more of a snarl as he stalked the corridors of the Lodge heading back towards the crowded party hall full of oblivious demons, his thoughts still with Charlie. Fingers crossed, Rosie had found Belphegor by now and she would not be alone too long, the very idea of her being unguarded in the state she was in did not sit well with him at all.

He was confident in his assumption she’d been poisoned, but not quite sure with what. Given that it looked like his own wound he’d have said it was the same heavenly energy that afflicted himself, but the colour had looked wrong – a pale sickly yellow compared with the bright gold that marred his own skin. Then there was her reaction too. Whatever it was had affected her very quickly, and seemed to be having an effect on her magic that was very different to his own experience. While his poison left him weakened, feeding off his magic, hers seemed to be diminishing whatever control she had, bolstering the already potent magic she possessed.

It had the added side effect of revealing her demon form, with the red horns and lovely pale eyes. He’d have thought it beautiful if not for the direness of the situation.

Find the prince, pass on the message, and return to Charlie. It should not be too difficult, he thought as he turned a corner, only to stop in his tracks when he saw what stood by a window at the other end. The imp was tall, dressed rather ridiculously in a cowboy hat and spurs (seriously, where did he think he was?) and had the bound and unconscious Goetia heiress slung over his shoulders. His green eyes widened a fraction upon spotting Alastor, but he didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest at having been caught, merely giving a grin that flashed a golden tooth and touching his hat, then leapt out of the window with a chuckle.

Alastor snarled and ran to follow, knowing all too well that it was too late to merely warn the girl's father. He could do that of course, let the royals deal with this mess themselves while he returned to his Charlie, but for the same reason he had agreed to leave her side against his better judgement, knew that if she ever found out he’d had the chance to stop them and not done so that she’d never forgive him. Besides, from the looks of things they had drugged the young girl too, an innocent in all this targeted for little more than a station she had no choice being born into. He knew a little of what that could be like, to be made a victim for what you are despite being helpless about it, and it only served to fuel his anger more.

By the time he got to the window the cowboy imp had landed seemingly without a scratch and already taken off across the lawn, joined by a mixture of around twelve or fifteen others, heading for a dark town car-looking vehicle sitting just out of sight of the Lodge’s main windows with the lights off but motor running. No doubt the getaway vehicle for their little heist.

To use his magic was likely a bad idea, given how much he had already used when defending Charlie, but he could see no other choice. Melting into the shadows to transport himself outside (he likely could have made the jump himself without injury also, but it would cost him precious seconds of concentration he did not have) while also summoning tendrils of darkness that sprouted from the ground and began to grab at the fleeing demons who screamed and shouted with shock and horror. Alastor grinned upon hearing their cries, stalking after them, the cowboy however proved startlingly agile and managed to dodge every attempt he made to grab him.

Striker hissed as another of these damn tentacles (what the f*ck were they anyway?!) sprouted from the ground between his feet, narrowly dodging its attempt to grab his ankle and span around to face their pursuer. The sinner demon was grinning widely, despite the deep scowl on his brow, the smug expression pissing him off even more.

“Take her!“ Striker threw the girl off his shoulders and into the arms of another passing demon, stepping towards Alastor as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, eyes never leaving Alastor’s as he pulled a shiny blessing-tipped blade from his belt. “I’m about’a show this sinner what a real demon can do!”

Even several feet away, Alastor’s sensitive ears still heard the imp’s growl, his own grin twisting into a snarl. He wasn’t worried about the others who had managed to dodge his attack getting away, they didn’t seem to have noticed yet his tendrils wrapped around the wheels of their getaway car, there would be no quick escape for them as he took care of the problem in front of him. Lacky or ringmaster, he wasn’t sure, but this co*cky imp played his part in hurting Charlie, angelic poison or not he would not be satisfied until he was little more than a stain on the floor.

XXXXXX

The second Alastor had left the room Charlie had gasped and given in to the wave of magic that she’d been desperately holding onto while he had been so close, the force of it causing her jaw to clench so painfully she couldn’t help but shut her eyes, colourful sparks and flames flickering around her hair and fingertips as her back arched.

She didn’t know how long it lasted, seconds, minutes, it felt like hours though she knew it couldn’t have been. By the time her body relaxed again, flopping back down and panting to get her breath back – she hadn’t even realised she’d held it – though she could still feel the magic bubbling just below the surface, building again, she did feel oddly… better?

“In here!” she heard Rosie even over the buzzing in her own ears, eyes shifting over towards the door of the room to see Belphegor, Asmodeus and Beelzebub rushing their way inside while the Overlord stood to the side to give them room. The three sins concerned expressions all turned horrified upon seeing their niece.

While Belphegor immediately jumped into action, hands glowing with a mysterious pink light as she began to examine Charlie, Beelzebub stood to the side uncharacteristically quiet as she leaned over them, one of her hands over her mouth while the other three hugged her torso. Asmodeus stood beside her, one hand on Bee’s shoulder giving a comforting squeeze, but all three of his faces betrayed his worry.

Rosie remained near the door, and had to her own chest as she hovered, uneasy by their silence. A quick sweep of the room had told her that Alastor was no longer here, though she thought she saw a familiar shadow slip into a dark corner of the room, but still thought it very odd. She knew him well enough that she couldn’t see him leaving Charlie alone like this without a very good reason though. One she’d be very keen to hear once this whole fiasco was over with.

Charlie tried to speak, but all that came out was a whimper. She could feel the magic building in her again but tried to hold it back the best she could, hands clenched into such tight fists her own claws pierced the palm of her skin though she barely noticed. Charlie kept her wide eyes on her aunt as she examined her, though Belphegor’s brow remained furrowed and gave no indication as to what she was thinking, at least until she came to the puncture mark on her neck and saw the pale yellow veins that marked the princess skin, which caused the sin of sloth to take a sharp breath.

“Bel?” Bee asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

“It’s…” Belphegor rocked back on her heels and swallowed deeply, “It’s called Holy Tears, it’s a poison, a synthetic copy of heaven’s energy one of my last apprentices made – a poison powerful enough to work on demon royalty…”

“Why is Satan’s name would you approve something like that?!” Asmodeus exclaimed.

“I didn’t!” Bel snapped, resting her still glowing hand on Charlie's chest, though it seemed to do very little to soothe her. “I strictly forbade him when he came to me with the idea, and when I found out he’d gone ahead behind my back I made sure to destroy him and his laboratory – I didn’t know any of it had made it onto the market!”

“I don’t care what it is!” Bee growled before Asmodeus could reply, “Do you know how to cure it?”

Belphegor didn’t look at either of them, “…No”

“How can you not know a cure?!” Ozzie’s hands were in his hair, his mane flaming around him.

“Because one was never invented, that was the whole damn point of the poison!” Bel growled.

“Can Lucifer not cure it?” Bee suggested hopefully.

Still lying between them all, Charlie grit her teeth and moaned, her eyes falling shut as the magic bubbled beneath her skin causing sparks to fly from her fingertips once more as it struggled to release. She was barely aware of the conversation going on around her, focused solely on keeping that power contained, and the pain sent icy tremors through her body. Rosie seemed to be the only one who noticed, taking a hesitant step forward, wanting desperately to offer the princess some kind of comfort while the sins bickered but kept at bay when the sparks landed on the edge of her skirt and caused the fabric to begin smoking.

Ozzie frowned, “Lucifer?”

“Lucifer can cure heavenly poison, despite falling, he’s still a seraph” Belphegor reminded the other sin thoughtfully, “it might work, Holy Tears is a copy of that energy…”

“All well and good, but Lucifer isn’t here right now!”

“Well, I don’t have any other ideas, Oz!” Bel barked, pulling her hand away from Charlie's chest to grip at her own hair, glaring at the other sin “I don’t have the cure, and the poison is too complex for me to synthesize one quickly, and Charlie might not-“

Charlie gasped suddenly as her tightly wound self-restraint suddenly snapped, back arching painfully once more, and her eyes suddenly blazing. The magic she’d been trying to hold back for fear of what might happen if it broke free slipped from her control, a literal wave of multicolours fire and pink haze that burst forth from her body to encompass the entire room. Breath caught in her own lungs, the magic attacked her body in hot waves, but Charlie was aware enough to see the way her aunts, uncle and Rosie all fell to their knees as the magic wave hit them too, each wearing matching expressions of shock, but seemingly unharmed by the fire. It lasted a few moments, and when the magic waned once more Charlie collapsed panting on the chaise.

“Okay, what the f*ck was that?!” Ozzie was the first to recover, pulling himself back up to stand before offering a hand to help Rosie.

“Magic” Bel answered in a grumble, standing as well.

“No sh*t, I think he meant why did it happen?” said Bee, who didn’t bother trying to stand again, on her knees by Charlie’s head, she reached out to soothe back the hair that had begun to stick to the princess's sweat-covered brow. Still gasping for breath, Charlie could only give her a grateful look.

“I don’t know, I don’t know how this poison will affect Charlie, you keep asking me but I don’t know!” Bel was ready to tear her hair out, “I’m doing my best, but I don’t know! I know I should, I should know, I should-“

Belphegor stopped talking the moment Charlie’s hand reached out and gripped her arm in weak fingers, gaze landing on her niece as Charlie managed to croak,“-its o...kay, Aunt Bel. I… I feel a little better.”

“But… Charlie, I-“

“-no.” Charlie struggled to sit up, Bee assisting her until she was propped onto the back of the lounge, still breathing unevenly. It wasn’t over. Charlie could still feel the poison in her system, like ice in her veins, but the release of the magic wave did ease the pain of it just a little. Enough to clear her head and give her a little more strength in her limbs. “It’s okay… I’m okay. We… w-we need to find S-stolas!”

“The Goetia?” Bee frowned, “he wasn’t involved in this, was he?!”

“N-no!” came Charlie’s quick response, “they- his daughter, t-they’re trying to kidnap her! S-she’s been p-poisoned too! I… I sent A-Alastor to find… to find Stolas, and w-warn him.”

“Okay, okay, don’t worry” Ozzie rested a massive hand on her back gently, “we’ll find Stolas and his daughter, don’t you worry, just stay and rest, alright?”

“Yeah, ain’t no one poisoning my niece and getting away without an ass-whooping!” Bee growled arms on her hips.

Belphegor, meanwhile, had a hand over her mouth and looked pensive. “I don’t know if the Goetia girl will be able to withstand the poison like Charlie has - she’s a full-blooded demon, unlike Charlie - I’ll need to find her quickly if we’re to have any hope of preventing a fatality.”

“Fine- no, wait – someone needs to stay with Charlie!”

“I’m o-okay!” Charlie insisted despite gritting her teeth, once again begging, “Just…find Octavia! Please!”

Bee still hesitated, biting her lip. “… okay, I’ll stay with Charlie – you two can find Stolas and his daughter!”

“Bee, we need you to track them down. Bel and I don’t have your nose” Ozzie reminded.

“But-!”

“I’ll stay,” Rosie offered, still a little breathless after getting quite literally swept off her feet by Charlie’s magic. Lord, she knew the princess of hell was indeed powerful, despite her tendency not to show it off too much, but to feel that raw power first-hand, it had been quite the experience!

“Are you sure?” Bee arched an eyebrow, not distrustfully as she’d sensed the genuine concern the sinner held for her niece.

“Yes – besides, Alastor would have my guts for garters if I ever let anything happen to her!” Rosie joked, taking a seat beside Charlie on the chaise and taking hold of one of her hands now she’d stopped emitting sparks from her fingers.

“It’s settled then. I’ll see if I can find Stolas and alert the others to what is happening, you two look for his daughter and the bastards that think poisoning royalty is a good f*cking idea” Ozzie growled, striding out of the room as his mane flamed furiously. Bee and Bel cast one last concerned look towards Charlie, clearly still reluctant to leave, but followed suit.

The room felt bigger once the three sins had made their exit, the only sound being Charlie’s unsteady breathing, while Rosie squeezed her hand supportively – only mildly concerned that she could feel he demonesses skin heating up like a furnace, she wouldn’t at all be surprised if flames began flickering from her fingertips again.

“How you feeling, doll?” the overlord asked gently, “maybe I can get you some water, help you cool down-?”

“No,” Charlie’s voice was croaky, and she startled Rosie as she attempted to stand giving the other lady little choice but to reach out when she swayed unsteadily on her feet. Blinking back the lights that flashed behind her eyes for a moment after she managed to get on her feet, Charlie said, “We… we need to find Al’!”

She’d heard what her aunt Bel had said about Octavia and the poison, and yes of course Charlie was concerned about the young heiress, but another thought had struck her. What If they had more of that stuff? Alastor already had the real heavenly poison in his system, held at bay by her magic in his system, but what if he got poisoned again? She couldn’t exactly tell her aunt he was a risk, she’d promised not to tell anyone after all, and she wasn’t completely oblivious to the fact the sins had made no comment about finding Alastor alongside Octavia and Stolas. Chances are they wouldn’t look for him right away, what if they got him and just… just left him somewhere to die!?

“What?” Rosie frowned, “No, Charlie love, you need to rest – don’t you worry about Alastor, he can handle himself!”

“No,” Charlie shook her head, “I – we – need… we need to find him, Rosie, he… If they get him…”

“They won’t, Charlie, believe me, he’s smarter than that and more capable in a fight than you think – why, if he wasn’t I never would have agreed when he volunteered to go against Adam during the extermination! Alastor will be fine!”

Charlie knew Rosie’s words were meant to be comforting, but the mention of Adam had the exact opposite effect – because yes, Alastor had held his own against the first man, but he hadn’t escaped unscathed, something the overlord was unaware of. As if in response to her turmoil, the magic beneath her skin seemed to simmer just a little hotter, but she drew strength from it. gritting her teeth and clenching her fists the princess began stumbling towards the door determinedly.

Rosie caught up fast and reached out to assist, “Charlie…”

“I need to find him, Rosie” the blonde gritted out without looking to the other demon for a reaction, never faltering in her efforts to get out of the room.

Something in her tone gave Rosie pause before she tried to insist the princess sit back down and rest again. Her gut was telling her that Charlie's insistence was perhaps more than simple concern, why If she didn’t know any better she’d have said that was real fear in the girl's voice…

“…Okay.” Rosie agreed, praying to whatever god might be listening it was the right choice, “Okay, we’ll go looking for him, but you’re not taking one step out of this room without me, missy. I meant it when I said he’d have my hide if I let anything happen to you! Now, come on, arm over – that’s it…”

Lifting Charlie's arm around her shoulders, Rosie wrapped her own arm around the princess's waist to better support her as they made their way out together. The last thing she needed was for the girl to go careening off the edge of a staircase or something like that! Charlie gave her a grateful look, then barked with as much force as she could muster:

“Shadow! T-take us to Alastor!”

Rosie blinked when a very familiar-looking shadow with tall ears and antlers suddenly shot out of the room they’d just left, pausing momentarily on the wall beside them, then took off down the hall to their left. Huh, well would you look at that? She’d never known Alastor’s shadow to obey a command from anyone but him before, unless it suited its own fancy, the thing could be quite the prankster on its master…

Of course, that did mean there was just as much chance of it leading them away from Alastor rather than to him – depending on what its orders had been. Charlie however seemed confident to follow, and Rosie knew better by now than to try to dissuade her. It seemed she was just as stubborn as Alastor when she wanted to do something!

Wobbling down the hall on leaden feet Charlie hoped, wished and prayed that Alastor was alright. She’d sent him off alone, after all, if anything happened to him… the thought alone was what held her together right now, when the magic still bubbling up inside of her had her feeling as if she was fraying at the seams, but she held it in. Whatever the poison was doing to her, she couldn’t give in to it until she knew he was okay…

XXXXXX

Alastor ducked to his left then stepped backwards to dodge a lunge from the imp, that blessed blade of his narrowly missing his torso and the step back was to avoid the tail that tried to grab for his ankles. Seeing that he’d dodged the attack again, the imp snarled but didn’t give into his anger to immediately strike. Had it been any other situation, Alastor might have appreciated the unexpected cunning and skill that this fellow possessed, their fight had left him almost breathless (of course, that could be from using the magic he wasn’t supposed to be using too) but considering every moment he wasted here kept him away from Charlie, he’d very much prefer if the wannabe cowboy would just die already.

The problem was that with his focus split between preventing their getaway car from leaving, tendrils of darkness still wrapped around the wheels that furiously span the second they’d dumped the Goetia girl into the trunk, and dodging the imps attacks he hadn’t been able to focus his own attacks and thus the imp had deftly managed to avoid or – annoyingly – slice the tendrils he sent his way with that blessed knife of his.

“Getting’ tired yet, sinner?” the imp hissed, tail rattling like a snake.

He was trying to goad Alastor into a physical attack, thus far he’d refrained from making any that didn’t involve magic – no, he wanted to stay as far out of reach of that blessed blade as possible thank you very much – but Alastor only narrowed his eyes. It had crossed his mind to transform into his more demonic form, however it would only make him a larger target, and slower compared to the imp.

“I was surprised when I heard the princess had a sinner as her guard,” the imp continued to drawl, sneering, “but you ain’t a guard, are you? You’re just her little pet, a little plaything-“

“-I suspect you’re trying to get on my nerves to provoke me to attack, I can tell you now it will not work, however, my patience is beginning to wear thin. Can we simply get this over with and refrain from anymore talking?” Alastor interrupted, doing his best to sound bored.

The imp blinked, apparently surprised by the audacity, but it was enough of a distraction for one of Alastor’s shadows to shoot up from the ground between his feet and rocket straight into his chin. There was a sharp click of teeth snapping together, the imp stumbling back a few steps as he cursed.

At that moment a pair of glass doors to the lodge came smashing open, causing everyone outside – the shark demons, imps, and Alastor – to glance back. He was mildly stunned at the massive black and red beast that burst out of the doors, its owl-like face focusing on what was going on and when it spotted the shark demons pulling Octavia from the trunk of the car (apparently they’d decided if they could not drive away they’d just try run with her instead) it let out a shrill shriek and dove towards them in a mass of red and black.

Behind the beast came the rest of the Goetia family, other royals and the sins as they poured onto the lawn of the lodge to see what was happening. Seeing them, a few of the mobster demons ran forward – many carrying blessed knives or guns – and the fighting really broke out as royal demons fell upon the hapless thugs with a ruthless kind of glee, seemingly thrilled for the fight.

This was the scene Charlie and Rosie stumbled upon as Alastor’s Shadow led them out of a side door. It was chaos beneath the dark red of the night sky, royals fighting lesser demons, while lesser demons used holy weapons against the royals. Both groups took hits, though only the mobsters seem to have taken any losses to their numbers. Shrieks, cries, laughter and gunshots were all that could be heard.

“Oh my, perhaps we should-“ Rosie tried to suggest they go back inside, she had zero doubts that Alastor was probably in the thick of the fighting if she knew him, and Charlie really wasn’t in any condition to be in this kind of situation. Her words were stolen however when the wall beside her face cracked with a loud sound, black eyes landing on the squat shark demon that had just taken a shot at them with a blessed pistol, and from his ‘oh f*ck’ expression seemed to have realised exactly how badly he’d messed up by missing.

“Now, Charlie, you stay right here while I teach the little gentleman some manners, it will just take a second” Rosie growled, lingering just long enough to help Charlie sink to the floor inside the doorway before she took off after the demon who tried to shoot her.

Charlie watched her go – having a strong suspicion that the little shark demon would not be seen again – but had zero intention of staying where she was. Alastor was out there, she was sure, but in the dark, she couldn’t catch even a glimpse of his crimson coat. Until she saw for herself that he was alright, she had to keep going.

Using the wall to pull herself up, taking a few deep steadying breaths once she did, Charlie stumbled outside. She did her best to stick to the edge of the fight, keeping a hand against the wall of the lodge to steady herself. Her fingertips were sparking again, the magic she was desperately trying to keep contained seemed to not only be answering her pain but the violence around her too… as if everything that was going on only seemed to fuel her magic, making her struggle to keep it contained just that little bit harder. Her heart was hammering, her stomach rolling. She felt like a shaken soda bottle that was about to pop! She had to stop, just for a moment, just to steady her breathing… steady her breathing, keep it contained, don’t hurt anyone…

She was still trying to control her breathing when she heard, “Ain’t that the princess?”

“Yeah! C’mon, while everyone’s distracted-“ answered another voice, and Charlie raised her eyes to glare at the two suit-wearing imps trying to reach out for her.

The first one let out a scream when flames burst forth from Charlie’s fingers catching on his suit, which seemed to be shockingly flammable when she held a hand up to try and warn them both away. No, no, she didn’t want to hurt… she snatched her hand back to her chest. While his companion burned the other imp swung around, smacking her in the side of the face with the butt of the gun in his hand, sending her to the floor.

“Argh!” she yelled on her way to the floor, even more flames erupting from her hands and forcing the pair of imps backwards if they did not want to get burned, but she curled her fingers into fists to try to contain them as her head ached and struggled to open her left eye.

Meters away, Alastor was completely focused on Striker and attempting to get a hold of the slippery imp whilst avoiding his attacks, at least until – over the chaos of what was going on around them – his sensitive ears picked up on the pained shout of his princess.

“Charlie?!” he muttered, turning to face the direction his ears had swivelled in when he heard the sound. As two battling demons moved he spotted her, only meters away on the ground by the lodge, two imps dancing around her to avoid the flames of her magic.

He rushed towards her, with a wave of his hand summoning tendrils that rose from the ground and snatched her would-be-attackers from where they stood and flung them carelessly towards the boiling lake. He wasn’t sure it would kill them, but their screams were satisfying enough. Charlie looked confused for a moment, at least until her eyes (or rather eye, as her left one was kept shut) landed on him – but the relieved look on her face suddenly melted into horror.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he saw her expression change, using it as a warning and dodging to the right to avoid the attack from behind before it came. Unfortunately not quite fast enough and he felt the biting pain as the blessed blade cut into his right shoulder, burning as it practically melted into his skin.

“And where do you think you’re doing?” Striker snarled, though his strike had missed its mark when the sinner moved, he’d still heard the strangled hiss of pain and smirked, using his tail to sweep Alastor’s legs from under him and send him to the floor with the blade still buried deep in his shoulder. Striker reached for it and pulled it loose, intending to finish the job, only to flinch – as the rest of the fighting demons did – at the unearthly shriek seconds before something hot slammed him off his feet.

Charlie had seen the moment Alastor was stabbed with the silver-tipped blessed blade and slumped to the floor. She’d watched in horror, waiting for him to move, to laugh, to summon shadow and either melt away or counterattack. But nothing happened. He just fell to the floor and didn’t move even when the blade was retrieved from his body, the imp grinning with wild green eyes and… and…

If her body felt hot before, now it must be scorching. During the battle with heaven, when her anger had gotten the best of her, she’d transformed into a swirling vortex of flames, but not this time. This time Charlie felt every painful second of her claws lengthening, the fangs in her mouth grew just a little longer and bit into her black lips that were pulled back into a snarl, her horns ached as they lengthened to almost curl, and she could feel her tail lashing like an angry cat behind her. Her fear and fury loaned her the strength to get back on her feet. The magic that had been threatening to boil over still seethed beneath her skin, barely contained, and apparently with a mind of its own – she hadn’t even realised she’d thrown the fireball until the imp had stumbled a few steps from Alastor, patting down his fringed jacket as it ignited, but turned to her with a snarl.

Striker didn’t get a moment to even register that it was the prissy little Morningstar princess who attacked him, no, before he could blink the demoness had sprinted the distance between them and tackled him. Now Striker lay on the floor beneath her, getting pummelled by fireball and fireball, barely able to register the fact he was being bested by a demoness with bloody tears rolling down her rosy cheeks.

Charlie felt the anger rise up and control her like a foreign invader to her consciousness. She wanted to hurt the imp, she wanted to feel him burn beneath her, wanted to feel his flesh cut to ribbons beneath her own claws, wanted to taste his blood on her fangs. She resisted the urges, standing over him as she threw fireball after fireball at him, tears streaming. She was aware that he’d tried to defend himself, she’d seen him slash at her with the blessed knife and she knew his hit had landed and slashed the pale skin of her arms, she could see her own blood but didn’t register the pain.

“Charlie-!” she was vaguely aware of someone yelling her name through the fog.

“Charlie!”

“Charlie,” this time a hand wrapped around her wrist before she could hurl another fireball, black and tipped with red claws. Charlie blinked at it, following the arm it belonged to until she was looking Alastor in the face. He was still smiling, tight-lipped and clearly in pain, but there was a concerned frown on his face as his eyes danced with wonder.

“Alastor?” her voice came out gravelly.

“In the flesh, my dear” he chuckled, “you should know by now I do not go down so easily!”

“I saw… I thought…” despite her truly demonic form, she was still his Charlie, her lip trembling and cheeks stained by bloody tears. He knew it wasn’t just that she’d worried for him, no, he knew she was upset with this loss of control too no doubt horrified by what she had done – not that there was any need to be.

“I know, darling, I know” Despite people watching, Alastor did not flinch away when she leaned into him, pressing her face into his chest. He simply lifted a hand to rest against her head, then turned his glare to the imp still smoking after Charlie’s attacks, who was pulling himself up off the floor. Alastor glared at him, “I hope you realise, my good fellow, that the only reason you are alive – the only reason she did not completely obliterate you – is because our fair princess is too kind for her own good. Personally, I would rather prefer to inflict a more gory fate on someone as despicable as yourself, but I will respect our princess's mercy.”

Striker opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a dark tendril sprouted from the ground and finally wrapped him up in its grip. He struggled of course, but to no avail, and with a snap of Alastor’s fingers, the imp was gone.

“Not to worry darling, he’ll turn up somewhere – far away from us. As I said, you are the merciful one, not I. Banishment to the void is as merciful as I can be.” Alastor explained, practically sensing her frown without looking down.

“What is the meaning of- UHNAND ME!”

The voice that screeched belonged to a small imp with white hair and a grey suit, currently struggling in the grip of Lord Paimon by the overturned getaway car. Alastor blinked at that. He hadn’t even noticed the car getting flipped in all the chaos of the fight, though everything seemed to have died down now. The lawn was covered in the dismembered parts of mobster demons and ruffled-looking royals. The massive black and red demon he’d seen earlier was gone, and in its place stood the owl prince Stolas, holding his unconscious daughter close to his chest as Belphegor examined her. His father stood by them, apparently having pulled the imp he now held over his head from the overturned car.

“Oh, no, no, no, little one” Lord Paimon chuckled, his eyes flaring, “I’m rather looking forward to teaching you just how the Goetia deal with those that move against them! Oh, what fun it will be! For me, not you, of course.”

Charlie watched all of this with her head still leaning on Alastor’s chest, somewhat soothed by the steady beat of his heart, and while her rage had died off the magic was still surging within her in waves, now that she’d stopped hurling fireballs it felt worse, the magic desperately looking for a release…

“Alastor, Charlie!” Rosie found them, black demon blood staining the skirt of her dress, “oh, you poor dears, come on let's get you inside and-“

The princess barely heard her, barely heard anything, for a moment feeling as if time itself had stopped. This time when the magic rose up in her she felt it right from her toes, and much like the wave that had erupted from her back in the room, Charlie knew there would be con containing it this time. Without warning she shoved herself away from Alastor, stumbling back a few steps to try and create as much distance as she could between herself and everyone else – getting only a few steps before letting out a cry, curling in on herself and falling to the ground, claws burying into the ground, the magic bursting forth in wave after wave of pink light and glittering multicoloured flames. The force of it let out a sound like a blast, shattering a few windows of the Lodge and causing nearby trees to creak and sway. Demons were forced to their knees as the sheer strength of the power blast washed over them, once, twice, three times. Some even let out pained cries.

Alastor was forced to their knees too, gritting his teeth, but he couldn’t take his eyes off what was happening – oh he knew Charlie was powerful, but to know this was what she’d been holding back… it was almost painful, each wave of her magic that washed over him, every nerve in his body thrumming but it was the most delicious kind of torture, warm and familiar to him.

What he did not expect, as he looked around, was the way her magic affected those around them. The eyes of Hell, not always visible outside of Pentagram City, blinked into existence in the walls and trees around them. Royal demons were no longer able to hide their true forms, revealing monstrous forms and grotesque faces. Somewhere covered in ghostly chains or ropes, it took him a moment to realise it was the same kind that appeared upon striking deals, and it was only when his gaze landed on Rosie and saw the ethereal chains wrapped around her hands that signified the souls she owned that he thought to look down. For the first time in over a year, Alastor could see the heavy white chain that sat around his throat, the evidence of his deal.

Alastor glanced around for fear anyone would see it, but it appeared most had their eyes tightly shut against the onslaught of Charlie's magic, and thankfully it did not last too long. As the normally hidden things began to fade back out of existence, Charlie finally let out a gasp, exhausted, and fell to the floor. This time the magic did not continue to bubble beneath her skin, in fact, she couldn’t feel it at all. In its place she just felt pain, her entire body ached, and she felt cold…

One of the first to drag himself back onto his feet, Alastor approached her without hesitation, panicked when she did not move – did not even seem to breathe - pressing his fingers to the pulse point on her jaw and letting his shoulders drop a little to feel it fluttering strongly beneath his fingertips. She was alive, at least.

“Ah, uh, well… it does seem as if I’ve turned up just a little bit late again…”

Chapter 16: Aftermath

Chapter Text

Exhaustion had turned Alastor’s limbs to lead, it seemed, but fatigue did not stop him from pulling Charlie’s unconscious form closer to his once-again aching chest. No doubt the first indicator that he had once again overdone it with the magic, but he pushed any thought of that aside in favour of glaring at the king.

Lucifer stood amongst the carnage looking utterly out of place in his usual stark white attire, drumming the fingers of one hand against his chin while the other held his apple-topped cane, his eyes wide and searching as he peered around him. By his side stood a tall woman Alastor had only ever seen in paintings around the hotel or old posters that still hung across Pentagram City. Just like her husband, Lilith searched the crowd with furrowed brows, her hand resting on Lucifer’s shoulder. When her dark eyes fell on Alastor holding Charlie her eyes widened, tapping Lucifer and nodding wordlessly in their direction.

“Charlie!” Lucifer ran over in a panic, grabbing his hat to be certain it didn’t fall completely off his head in his haste.

Before the king could get too close, his arm outstretched as he reached for his daughter, Alastor snarled. He did it reflexively, ears pinned back against his head, satisfied when Lucifer snatched his hand back. Absolute oaf that he was, he’d probably do more damage to Charlie than help!

Lucifer recovered quickly from his surprise, scowling and raising a finger apparently intent on telling the radio demon just what he thought (who did he think he was, warning away from his daughter?!) but faltered when Lilith gently grabbed his wrist and shook her head. He looked to his wife, the queen wordlessly watching the curious sinner that held her daughter possessively to his chest, and begrudgingly let his hand drop.

“Lucifer!” Belphegor pushed her way through the crowd, relief evident in her expression “Thank heaven and hell, we need your help – the Goeita heiress is in a bad way, and you’re the only one here with enough magic to cure it! C’mon!”

Bel had grabbed Lucifer’s arm, attempting to drag him to where the Goeita were gathering around Octavia’s limp form, but the king resisted.

“-But, Charlie-!” Lucifer protested, casting a look back over his shoulder at his daughter still clasped in that prick's arms – why was he glaring at him like that anyway, Charlie was his daughter, if anyone should be holding her like that when she was sick it was him!

Belphegor frowned, looking past Lucifer to Charlie who she hadn’t even noticed given how her friend was holding her so protectively, biting her lip. “Okay, I’ll stay here and check on Charlie – but you go and help Stolas’s daughter!”

“-But-“

Bel wasn’t taking excuses though, getting behind Lucifer and giving him a shove towards the Goeita, “-go, go, go!”

The king looked to his wife imploringly, but Lilith only gave a gentle nod, and with a reluctant drop of his shoulders Lucifer was forced to part with his wife and daughter as he hurried away to aid the other girl, Lord Paimon being very vocal about how honoured he was to have his granddaughter treated by the king himself.

Certain her other patient would be getting treated, Bel turned her attention back to Charlie, giving Lilith a dubious glance when she passed the queen. When the sin of sloth crouched by them and reached out for Charlie, Alastor didn’t utter a sound, shifting just enough to allow her access enough to examine her but nothing more. Rosie had found them as well, coming out of the crowd to stand at his side, almost to the point of hovering above them.

Still silent as a shadow, Lilith continued to observe. It did not escape her notice how this sinner did not react so aggressively towards Belphegor, nor the female sinner who now stood beside him. She was not oblivious to who he was, given her husband had told her much about him in a number of rants recently, but considering everything she knew or had been told of the Radio Demon… he was certainly not what she had expected.

Bel’s hands had that pink glow to them again as she examined Charlie with a look of concentration etched upon her features, more than aware of the other three watching her. Finally, holding her breath, she carefully moved the princess’s head to the side to examine the puncture wound where the poison had been injected – the mark was still there, but Bel let out a sigh of relief to see the sickly yellow veins of the poison had completely disappeared.

“What?” both Rosie and Alastor were quick to ask, uncertain what to make of the goat-sin’s sigh, dreading the worst. Even Lilith leaned in, hands curling into fists at her sides.

“She’s going to be just fine,” Belphegor assured them all with a smile, “It seems Charlie managed to burn the poison out of her system on her own.”

“How is that possible?” Lilith asked, her tone gentle but commanding.

“I don’t know a lot about this poison, Ma'am” admitted the sin, standing up again as she addressed the queen, “My best guess is with it being a synthetic version of heavenly energy, something Charlie already has naturally, that her body – or rather, her magic – attacked it the same way her immune system would attack any other invading virus. It would explain why it immediately affected her magic, and why she has a drastically different reaction compared to Octavia.”

“That explains almost setting us on fire,” Rosie remarked good-humouredly, hoping to ease the tension.

“Yes” Bel nodded, casting another glance at her niece, she looked utterly drained with dark circles under her eyes and a nasty bruise beginning to form at her left temple. “A bit bruised and battered, but fine. I expect she will be exhausted, and her magic will be completely burnt-out for a while, but nothing some good old-fashioned rest can’t fix.”

The decision was made to move Charlie back to the room where she might be more comfortable, and though Bel did suggest asking Asmodeus to carry her – given it was obvious that Alastor too was completely drained after the fight – but he refused. His arms may have tremored a little with the effort to hold her, the shoulder where he’d been stabbed burned and each step felt physically painful, but he was not quite ready yet to let Charlie out of his hold.

Wordlessly he carried her back through the lodge to their room, Rosie on his right and Lilith trailing behind to his left. The queen seemed to be a woman of few words, or maybe she simply had nothing worth saying to a couple of sinners caring for her injured daughter, but he didn’t care. Nor was he a fool not to have noticed the way Rosie regarded the taller demoness suspiciously from the corner of her dark eyes, more than likely having followed them to be utterly certain nothing would happen to them. He could understand her mistrust of course, after all, Charlie herself had told him no one had seen her mother in seven years and now she turns up out of the blue with nary a word on why?

When they got to the room he had the perfect excuse with which to turn them both away, while he could pass through the doorway unbothered, the entryway glowed red with Charlie’s sealing spell that prevented others from entering.

“What’s this?” Rosie asked in surprise, reaching out to touch the glowing barrier that felt solid enough to her touch.

Still holding Charlie to his chest on the other side of the door, Alastor replied with a glance over his shoulder, “Charlie warded the doorway so only she or I could enter, for security. I don’t know how to undo it.”

Nor would he even if he did, given the circ*mstances, but he didn’t say that part out loud.

“My clever girl,” uttered Lilith, her soft gaze never leaving the girl in his arms. “She will be safe here, then. I should go and check on her father…”

Lilith’s gaze lifted just long enough to give him a sharp nod, a simple action that spoke a thousand words – in both thanks and a warning to keep her safe – before the queen turned and walked back the way they had come. Rosie stayed by the spelled doorway and watched her leave with pursed lips, waiting until she was out of earshot before she looked at Alastor again.

“I cannot decide if the queen’s reappearance is a good or bad thing,” she said plainly, too tired herself to beat around the bush.

“Nor I,” he admitted with a weary sigh, “but it has been the last thought on my mind right now. I’m concerned about how Charlie will react, however.”

“No doubt,” Rosie nodded, throwing a sympathetic look at the girl in his arms, “poor dear. You both get some rest, understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” he tried to jest, but his tone just came out flat and tired, his shadow pushing the door shut as Rosie walked away and he carried Charlie to the bed. He laid her down carefully, certain her head rested gently against the pillow and none of her limbs were tucked under herself awkwardly, before he made his way to the other side of the bed and threw himself down ungracefully. They were both still covered in blood – and in Charlie’s case, a bit of ash – but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Alastor glanced at Charlie beside him, only a tiny bit surprised to find her watching him.

“You’re covered in blood” was all she said in a hoarse voice, barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Alastor agreed, matching her tone, “so are you.”

“I know.”

“… Your parents are here,” he blurted, “both of them.”

Charlie let her eyes fall shut, muttering another simple “I know.”

She’d been mostly awake, simply too exhausted to force her eyes open, nor did she think she could handle both of her parents right now. Not her father’s overprotective worrying, nor her mother… well, her mother was a whole different issue entirely.

When she opened her eyes again she felt the hot tears begin to fall, completely against her own will, but lacking any energy at all to stop them. She saw the way Alastor’s eyes widened almost comically in reaction, the poor man looked utterly bewildered, but she couldn’t stop. It seemed that everything came crashing down on her at once, the pressure she’d been feeling since the battle with heaven, her guilt and grief for Sir Pentious, the worry her dream was nothing more than a fools fancy, her anxiety about coming to the Conclave at all, Seviathan, Helsa, the fact she may have started a war she felt wholly unprepared for, the fact she was developing feelings for her business partner of all people, being attacked not once, but twice, and now her parents…

He didn’t know what to do with tears. Okay, he didn’t know what to do with her tears – his victims, now their tears he enjoyed. But he never knew what to do when Charlie cried, which was often given how emotional she could be, but he’d always had the option to escape before. He wasn’t even sure he understood why she was crying in the first place!

Before panic could get the better of him, his Shadow seemed to take pity, appearing on the wall behind Charlie it waved for Alastors attention and mimed hugging. He had no better ideas, so he took the advice, shifting on the bed so he was facing her and forcing his leaden arms to wrap around her, pulling her into his chest.

To say Charlie was surprised was an understatement, considering how rarely Alastor initiated hugs, but she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth when it came around. Tears still streaming down her cheeks she pressed closer, worrying only a little about getting his shirt damp, she sobbed silently. Alastor felt her snuggle closer, but he could also feel the shaking of her shoulders as she cried, and found himself holding her light a little bit tighter. They lay like that for what seemed like forever, saying nothing, until finally they both gave into exhaustion and slipped into sleep.

XXXXXX

A whole century could have passed by while he was unconscious and Alastor still would have woken feeling as if he’d had no rest at all. The Radio Demon blinked awake, momentarily confused by the fact his vision was obscured by something pale, only to realise it was Charlie’s hair. Apparently, after falling asleep he’d buried his face into the top of her head, which was still pressed against his chest, his arms still wrapped around her while her own were tucked against his tummy, their legs completely entwined. Behind Charlie’s knees, he noticed, Razzle slept soundly having missed all the excitement.

He remained where he was for a moment, simply enjoying the feel of her in his arms, the steady flow of her breathing as she slept soundly and that irresistibly spicy-sweet scent that belonged only to her, more than aware that the moment he moved the pain would hit him - he could already feel it in the dead weight that where his limbs. Memories of the night before ran through his mind, thoughts of what he could have done differently plaguing him (mostly how if that pathetic simpleton that was her ex hadn’t distracted him then maybe none of this would have happened) until he shook himself of such thoughts. It was foolish to dwell on what he could not change.

Disentangling himself from Charlie proved to be a feat, one that only highlighted how stiff and sore he was, but he managed to unravel their entangled limbs without waking her with eventual success, though it did leave him momentarily seeing stars when he sat up a little too quickly.

He stood, his shadow watching nervously as its master moved woodenly, every muscle in his body protesting even the simplest twitch until he stood at the foot of the bed. He realised after glancing at Charlie and noticing she still wore the ash-covered dress she’d worn to the party, dried blood staining the skin of her pale arms and hands, that he too was still wearing his clothes from the night before. It left him in a dilemma, given he would normally just clean her up and change her clothes with a snap of his fingers, but he was all too aware he’d used far too much magic the night before – certainly, any power he’d rebuilt in the last few days had been wiped out, and with Charlie clearly in no state to help him should he fall back down that rabbit hole he decided against trying to use more.

Which left him with only one option.

It took him longer than he cared to admit to gathering what he needed, but with his shadow's help, Alastor was able to clean the dried blood from her arms and hands with a damp cloth, inspecting the damage as he did. Thankfully the slashes where not too serious, and she had managed to escape a black eye despite the purple bruise to her left temple. Changing her into pyjamas was more interesting, not wanting to be accused of ogling her in such a weakened state, meant that his shadow did most of the work when it came to actually undressing and redressing her – Alastor just held her arm or leg when it was needed, eyes tightly shut until the shadow told him it was safe to look. Once she was clean, changed, and still soundly asleep he mentally instructed his shadow to make sure she remained undisturbed, then slipped into the bathroom.

Alastor flipped on the shower and began to undress, having momentarily forgotten about the stab to his shoulder until he tried to peel his shirt off and the bloodstained fabric stuck to the wound, causing him to hiss as it was peeled away. He twisted to get a good look at the wound in the mirror, thankfully it did not look as bad as he’d feared, having used just enough magic to stop the bleeding after the knife had been removed. Almost two inches in size, he’d likely have another scar to add to the ever-growing collection on his tattered skin.

He turned back around to get a good look at the wound to his chest, still healing nicely after Charlie’s intervention, but he was unsurprised to notice the veins of heavenly poison that had been slowly fading now burned gold once more. They didn’t seem to have grown any more than they had the day before though, isolated only to the skin around the wound Adam had inflicted, so there was that. Small blessings for his good deeds the night before, he supposed.

He stepped under the shower and washed quickly, his sore limbs relaxing somewhat under the stream of hot water, taking extra care to wash around the fresh wound to his shoulder. Alastor had to admit he felt considerably better in himself once he was clean and even thanked his shadow when he exited the shower and found fresh clothes folded on the bathroom countertop.

His improved mood soured however when he exited the bathroom to be immediately met with the sound of relentless knocking on the door of their room. Alastor glanced towards Charlie, relived she was still sleeping soundly in the bed (his shadow had its hands over her hears to apparently shield her from the sound, he wasn’t entirely certain if that worked, if he was quiet honest, but it was the sentiment that counted he supposed) before straightening shoulders and stalking towards the door, his most fearsome grin in place, to greet whichever imbecile was trying to beat down the door.

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised when he opened the door and needed to lean back to avoid Lucifer's fist.

“You!” the king practically spat, eyes bulging and a vein popping in his forehead. He looked very much like he was trying not to have an aneurysm on the spot, at least in Alastor’s opinion, unable to resist his grin turning into a smirk to see the little man's frustration. “What the f*ck are you doing in my daughter's room, Allen!?!”

“Now, darling, play nice” Lilith stood beside her husband, murmured quietly – but firmly – while casting Alastor an apologetic glance and draping a hand around Lucifer’s shoulders. Curiously the tiny king seemed to deflate at the mere contact. It seemed the queen had rather the countering effect to her husband's temper. “We were hoping we might be able to see Charlie?”

“Ah,” Alastor focused on the queen, since she seemed the more reasonable of the two, plus it had the added effect of ticking off Lucifer if he ignored him. “I’m afraid she’s still sleeping, and I am still unable to break the ward she placed on the doorway-“

“-Ha!” Lucifer barked a laugh, raising a hand. The ward on the door shone red for a moment, then cracked like glass and shattered before their eyes. Stepping over the threshold, the king rolled his eyes, “I’ve been breaking her entry wards ever since she was an angsty teen, Arthur! She went through this phase of always warding her room when she thought I might read her diary. Which I only did ONCE!”

The king strode past Alastor and spotted Charlie in the bed, immediately he turned into a blubbering mess and threw himself on the bed across Charlie’s legs, crying and muttering things about how he ‘should have been there’ and his ‘widdle girl’.

“He has always been the more emotional one,” said Lilith, entering the room far more calmly and standing beside Alastor, who watched Lucifer's display with tightly pressed lips and a twitch of his ear. His attention was captured by the queen, however, when she said to him; “May I speak with you of last night’s events?”

“Certainly, your Majesty” answered Alastor, though he threw one last glance at Lucifer’s display and squashed down the urge to throw the fool off the balcony.

“Lucifer, my love, do try not to wake her. Charlie needs her rest.” Lilith called out, perhaps noticing his expression, indicating with a nod of her head that Alastor should join her at the little seated area in front of the fireplace. Lucifer didn’t answer her, but his crying did quiet down.

Alastor sat in his usual high-backed chair, regarding the queen curiously, while she took a seat on the sofa. Razzle wasted no time clambering over, purring and rubbing against her. Lilith petted him absently, smiling softly before she addressed Alastor.

“Can you tell me what happened last night?”

“To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely certain. I can only tell you that I was alerted Charlie was in danger, by the time I got there she was already under the effects of the poison and there was a small group of demons attempting to ferry her away into the night. My friend and I made quick work of them, and once we realised what was wrong I sent my friend to fetch the Sins. This was when Charlie was able to warn me of the danger to the other girl and begged me to help. I was reluctant to leave her, but knew if anything happened to the young girl that Charlie would not forgive herself, so I left under the belief she would not be alone long. Considering you arrived in time to witness the aftermath of the battle, you can imagine what happened next.”

“Thank you,” Lilith nodded, still petting Razzle, “I have been interviewing those involved, including the prisoners we took.”

“Oh?” Alastor tilted his head, hoping she might elaborate.

“Yes. It seems all this trouble stemmed from Prince Stolas’ ex-wife hiring a mob from Greed to kidnap her own daughter,” Lilith’s expression was cool, but her dark eyes blazed, betraying her anger. “Apparently they got the idea to take Charlie too, thinking they might be able to obtain a more sizable compensation for her safe return.”

“Unwise,” replied Alastor, though in his head he was blown away by the sheer stupidity of such a plan. How had they expected to get away with such a thing unscathed?

“Indeed,” agreed the queen, smirking ever so slightly, “in the end all that would have happened is invoking the wrath of the seven deadly sins, the royal family, and apparently a surprising number of powerful sinners…”

Alastor did not know how to reply, the look the queen studied with him was all too knowing, practically pinning him to his seat with the weight of it alone.

“Hang on a second!” Lucifer broke the tension, sniffling a little as he wiped his tears on his sleeve and stood, “There’s only one bed in here… ANDREW, WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE BED IN HERE?!”

“Lucifer…” Lilith’s voice was soft, with just a hint of warning.

“WHY IS THE BUSBOY SHARING A ROOM WITH MY DAUGHTER WHEN THERE IS ONLY ONE BED?!”

“Perhaps it is time we left, so Charlie gets a… more peaceful rest.” Lilith stood abruptly, throwing a glare at her husband.

“BUT-!”

“Darling, you are having an outburst-”

“-BUT HE-“

“- and we must address last night's events with the rest before the rumour mill gets too out of hand,” the queen reminded her king in a tone that warned against argument, adding more softly, “Charlie is a grown woman, love, you can't have these tantrums every time she shares her life with a man. We talked about this last time.”

Lucifer folded his arms, pouting, “I don’t have a problem with every man. Just him. Why does it have to be him?!”

“You say that every time too, my love” Lilith actually chuckled, taking the king's hand and physically leading him from the room. Alastor was actually surprised he left, but of course, he did not leave without making a parting comment.

The king spun around to face Alastor, using pointed fingers to indicate he was watching him, and growled, “I have my eye on you, busboy! Touch one hair on my baby girl's head and I’ll make sure you stay dead next time.”

Had he the energy, Alastor might have made a comment about wanting to see him try, but frankly this entire ordeal had been almost as draining as last night’s fight – so he settled for slamming the bedroom door in Lucifer’s face instead and flicked the lock, not that it would truly deter the angry seraphim but it was satisfying to imagine the look on his face either way.

No longer needing to perform now they were alone, Alastor allowed his shoulders to drop again, dragging his feet a bit as he returned to the bed and sat heavily on the edge.

“Care to explain why you feigned sleep, my dear?” he asked Charlie without turning to face her. He’d heard the change in her breathing the moment Lucifer entered the room.

When she didn’t answer him, Alastor turned his head to watch her over his shoulder. Charlie lay behind him with her eyes open, but her expression was completely blank, staring at the ceiling above her.

“Charlie?” he prompted, more concerned by her silence than he was by her tears the night before. “Now, now, dear, silence isn’t like you. Though, truthfully, I cannot fault if you wanted to avoid your father's rather emotional display…”

“I… I don’t know,” her eyes dropped to his, voice hoarse. “I didn’t know what to say to them.”

Alastor nodded slowly, a little surprised by her answer (he’d never known her to not have some idea of what to say in any given situation – even those when silence would have been the best choice!) but it was understandable, he supposed. He had been privy to more than one conversation regarding her strained relationship with her parents, to be suddenly confronted with them both must have been jarring.

“Are you hungry?” he asked instead.

Charlie shook her head.

“Do you want something to read?”

She shook her head.

“Perhaps I can have one of those infernal picture show boxes brought in if you would like something mindless drivel to watch instead?”

She shook her head again.

He tilted his head, “Maybe you like to sleep some more?”

“No.”

Exhausted of all the options he could think of, Alastor frowned at her. “Do you, perchance, wish to simply lie here and feel sorry for yourself?”

There was a pause, but after a moment Charlie nodded, keeping her gaze firmly on the ceiling.

“Very well. Not something I would normally condone, but given the last few days, I’d more than say you’ve earned it.”

Charlie said nothing, just relieved he was not going to insist that she get up and do… well, anything. She felt completely and utterly drained, refusing to move simply because she felt the effort and pain to do so would not be worth it. Lying there and doing absolutely nothing, especially if she could manage not to think about anything either, sounded perfect.

Now, she knew Alastor was normally not happy unless he was doing something – as he often reminded her, he hated to be bored – so naturally she was somewhat confused when she felt the bed shift as he stretched out beside her. Charlie didn’t need to speak, simply glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.

Alastor caught her look but turned his own gaze to the ceiling as she had done as he quietly answered her unasked question, “Perhaps I’ve earned it too. Besides, and I admit I am no expert, but it looks as if you could use a little comforting.”

Charlie couldn’t resist the snort of laughter that escaped her, smirking as she tilted her head just a little to rest it on his shoulder. “I knew you liked the cuddling.”

“Only for you, my dear.” He answered with a roll of his eyes.

Charlie heard his answer but did not reply, her heart flip-flopping wildly at not only the soft words by the wild memory that suddenly sprang forth of his lips pressed against her own moments before he disappeared the night before. Honestly, she’d almost thought she’d imagined it, but considering she didn’t seem to have any other hallucinations from the poison she figured it must have happened. But why? Sure they had kissed in the library, but that was to cover their whole ‘fake dating’ lie. There had been no one around to see last night. Did that… did that mean Alastor liked her?! Or had it just been a spur-of-the-moment thing?! He hadn’t brought it up, did he even remember doing it?!

Alastor broke her thoughts by asking suddenly, “Would you like to talk about it?”

“What?!” Charlie blurted, for a moment convinced he’d somehow read her mind.

“Your parents?” he frowned glancing down at her, though all he could see was the top of her golden head. “Or did you have something else in mind?”

“Oh! No! I mean… no. I don’t know.” Charlie chewed on her lip, heart pounding in her chest. She could bring up the kiss, it was something they should talk about after all, but was she really ready for that talk? The immediate answer that sprang to her mind was a vehement ‘no’, feeling as emotionally drained right now as she was physically. She couldn’t predict how Alastor might react if she brought it up, selfish as it might be on her part but she didn’t want him to leave right now if he reacted badly, there was only so much her fragile heart could take, and decided to tuck the memory away… for now.

Oblivious to her train of thought, Alastor coaxed, “I’m told talking about it helps.”

He had his own selfish reasons to want her to talk, though he defended to himself that they came from a good place – was his job not to help Charlie, after all? How could he even hope to help if he didn’t understand exactly why she was upset? He was well aware, as most were, that her relationship with them was strained but pretending to be asleep to dodge interacting with them seemed rather beneath her.

Charlie’s heart was steadily returning to a more regular pace, while she continued to stare at the blank ceiling, she finally sighed, “I don’t know why I’m avoiding it. I don’t know why my mother is here, and I don’t know where my father has been all week if he was supposed to be in heaven or why she’s with him now. I don’t know why he ignored me when I called him, I don’t know why I worried he’d been captured or something, and I don’t know why my mother ignored me for seven years!”

“That is a lot of things not to know,” he agreed gently “but if you don’t talk to them you will never get answers. At the same time, given everything, I would not blame you at all if you were to make them wait until you were ready to hear what they have to say.”

She knew he was right, but that didn’t mean she wanted to admit it, let alone think about it right now. Searching for a way to change the subject, Charlie asked “Enough about me, what about you, how are you feeling Al’?”

“Weakened,” he admitted after only a second of hesitation, “but surprisingly not as bad as I thought all things considered.”

Charlie tilted her head so she could see him, frowning, “I saw you get stabbed. I saw you get stabbed with a holy weapon.”

“Yes, and my shoulder does smart a little, but I was able to use just enough magic to protect myself from any real damage. I also cleaned it. Believe it or not, but I did not much feel like facing your wrath once more by letting it fester.”

She nodded at his answer, though it reminded her of the cuts she’d received to her own arms from the same knife, though she hardly felt the throbbing pain until she remembered them, lifting her own arms to inspect the shallow wounds as they were revealed when her pyjama sleeves fell back. He must have cleaned hers too while she slept.

“Aaand are we going to talk about the fact you apparently changed my clothes while I was asleep?” she asked, just an edge of playfulness in her otherwise tired flat tone.

“No!” his response came out strangled, caught off guard by the teasing question, not entirely certain if she was upset or not. Clearing his throat to compose himself, he added, “I didn’t… I mean, my Shadow did most of the work. I didn’t look. I just thought you would be more comfortable wearing clothes that were not burned and bloody.”

“Hmm,” Charlie hummed, amused at how easily he became flustered, but admitted “Y’know if it was anyone but you, I wouldn’t believe them. Thanks Al’”

He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, or why she was thanking him – if she perhaps simply thought him a gentleman or that he thought her undesirable, which was far from the truth – and he didn’t ask. In fact, it wasn’t that long after when he realised she had slipped off to sleep again against his shoulder. Obviously, he couldn’t risk disturbing her, condition that she was in, and he soon followed her example and gave in to sleep too.

It was around noon when he woke again, Charlie seemed to have been awake longer and had managed to tuck another pillow beneath her shoulders so she was sitting up, though she continued to stare at nothing in particular, her expression continued to have that odd blankness it had after her parents visit. He didn’t much like it, when was the last time he’d seen Charlie without some sort of emotion on her face? To see her so blank was very disturbing, and not in a good way!

Alastor did not get much chance to change it either, as almost the same moment he woke came a quiet knock at the door. At the very least, he decided, such a knock meant it was unlikely to be her father again – though he still exchanged a glance with Charlie before getting up to answer it, waiting until she gave a slight nod. This time their guest proved to be much more polite in his bedside manner, Stolas had come to thank the pair of them profusely for their part in helping his daughter. He assured them that Octavia was going to be just fine, though she was in a similarly weakened state as Charlie for the moment, having been cured of the poison by one of Lucifer’s magic golden apples. Stolas wanted to thank them personally before he took Octavia home to rest and apologise that it was his ex-wife’s drama that caused this whole mess to begin with. Naturally, Charlie was very forgiving, and the way her whole body seemed to relax at the news the young girl was safe and sound was worth it in Alastor’s opinion.

The owl prince's visit seemed to signal something to the rest of the Lodge's current occupants, beginning a revolving door of visitors to Charlie’s bedside – most of whom, in his opinion, seemed merely to want to gawk at her than show any real care – but others, such as the Sins, where more genuine in their concern. Alastor stood by while these visits took place, feeling more like her guard than a silent observer when a few did not take notice of Charlie’s subtle cues that she was getting tired and he was forced to step in and ask them to leave, for which she always thanked him. Her parents tried to visit again around dinner time, and again Charlie pretended to be asleep to avoid talking with them, though thankfully her father was much less dramatic this time and apparently chose to pretend Alastor did not exist rather than start a fight. Her mother ignored them both, sitting at her daughter’s bedside and smoothing the hair from her face tenderly, before dragging Lucifer away once more.

Their last visitor of the day was none other than Rosie, who both welcomed with relived expressions – there would be little need for airs and graces with her, and she told them both as such, carrying a tray loaded with soup that she forced both of them to take and watched with a stern expression until they had both eaten half the bowl. Only then did she begin filling them in on what they had missed, telling them all the outrageous rumours that had flown around about what had happened the night before.

It was after Charlie had wobbled into the bathroom on unsteady legs, door shut behind her, that Rosie pinned Alastor with an unyielding glare that almost made his ear twitch.

“I know what I saw last night, Alastor” she hissed in a hurried tone, “you can’t possibly tell me you aren’t completely head over heels for that girl – now tell me, do you still insist on doing nothing with these feelings of yours?”

For one terrifying moment, he thought Rosie had witnessed the moment he surrendered to his foolish heart and kissed Charlie, but he sincerely doubted she would not mention it if she had, nor would she let him off the hook so lightly. As it stood, he felt confident in his assumption that Charlie herself had been too out of it to remember either, considering she hadn’t mentioned anything. Or worse, she did remember but kept silent to spare his feelings out of pity for not returning the same affection.

“I do,” he confirmed, and at Rosie’s infuriated look continued, “My feelings aside, Rosie, it would lead to nothing but misery for us both. Once we return to the hotel, I’ll keep my distance, and with any luck time will cause such emotions to fade.”

“Alastor, dear, you are your own worst enemy,” said Rosie with a shake of her head, surprising him as he’d honestly expected some kind of argument against his decision, before she asked, “Have you heard yet that the rest of the royals have demanded an answer from Lucifer and Lilith as to her absence these last years?”

“Ah-“ he was still puzzled by the switch in topic, “-no?”

“Uh-hmm, not that I blame them, I’m rather curious myself!” Rosie nodded, “have they spoken to Charlie about it yet?”

“They’ve stopped by a few times,” Alastor admitted, “but… Charlie was reluctant to speak with them just yet, she feigned sleep both times to avoid it.”

“Poor thing,” a sympathetic look passed over Rosie’s features, before she lit up with an idea, “Well, the king and queen agreed to address the issue at tomorrow's meeting. Why doesn’t Charlie attend, it might help her to hear their explanation as part of a crowd rather than a one-to-one conversation?”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Alastor agreed thoughtfully, especially if they were able to keep to the back of the crowd, “I will suggest it.”

“Suggest what?” Charlie surprised them both, practically falling out of the bathroom as her knees gave way, she would have hit the floor completely if not for managing to angle herself so she fell onto the bed instead.

The two overlords exchanged a glance before Alastor cleared his throat and explained, “Apparently your parents have agreed to explain their whereabouts at tomorrow's meeting, Rosie was just suggesting that it may be easier for you to hear what they have to say then if you are not ready for a more emotional reunion quite yet.”

Charlie blinked with that blank expression back on her face.

“Oh.”

She said nothing more, looking away from the pair of them and apparently focusing on Razzle who lay stretched out on the bed beside her, scratching behind his ear thoughtlessly. He’d hardly left her side since they returned last night, anyone might think the little dragon was feeling guilty for having slept through the chaos of the previous night in fact.

Again, Rosie and Alastor shared a look, before the former stood and brushed off her skirt. “Well, it is getting late and you two must be completely exhausted. I’ll let you get your rest!”

Charlie merely nodded, earning yet another concerned glance from the pair, while Alastor – in true gentleman fashion – escorted Rosie to the door. Any other time he may have walked her back to her room, but given Lucifer had broken the protective seal on the door he was not inclined to leave Charlie alone unprotected, so the door would have to do.

“Poor mite,” Rosie whispered to him as she was leaving, “Alastor, you better do your best to pamper her, whatever your foolish decisions!”

“And what would you suggest?” he whispered back with only a little bite to his tone, considering Charlie had shot down any of his previous suggestions to do things he knew she enjoyed – she did not want to read, listen to music, eat sweets or even watch trashy television!

Rosie thought for a moment, then seemed to get an idea that made her eyes shine and a sly grin appear upon her lips. “Run her a bubble bath. Trust me.”

He wasn’t sure he did, considering that look on her face, but he didn’t say so – merely rolled his eyes and let out a snort. “Goodnight, Rosie.”

“You’ll thank me later – goodnight, Alastor!”

He rolled his eyes again, the way she’d said it would make you think all of Charlie’s troubles might be swept away in one gloriously magical bubble bath, as if such a thing could happen. Shutting the door behind Rosie, once again flicking the lock in place as a final measure to anyone who might be lingering nearby and thinking of knocking, and turned back to Charlie.

He did not expect the silent tears rolling down her cheeks. When had she started crying again? Was it because he suggested they hear what her parents had to say, or was she still just overwhelmed with everything that happened? Last night he’d followed his shadow's advice, pulling her against his chest and holding her tight, but that had only seemed to make her sob harder. What was he supposed to do to make her stop?

Of course, he found himself blurting the first thought that came to mind.

“How about a bubble bath, sweetheart?”

Damn you Rosie.

Chapter 17: The Queen

Chapter Text

Charlie never actually replied regarding the bubble bath. Honestly, she was too surprised by the suggestion, and Alastor simply went into the bathroom where she heard the water beginning to run and no doubt fill the claw foot tub, apparently making the decision for her. Not that she was upset about it, but a bubble bath really did sound nice…

Alastor hoped he’d done it right, adding almost half the bottle of the Lodge’s complimentary bubble bath to the running water until the foam was practically spilling over the tub's sides, dipping his hand to be certain it was a pleasing temperature. Satisfied, he went back into the room to tell Charlie the bath was ready, and when she tried to stand on her unsteady legs he offered an arm to help her – suddenly wondering if this actually was a good idea, with how weak she seemed, what if she slipped under the water? Perhaps he could let some of the water out to reduce such risk…

She must have had the same thought, her grip on his arm turning firm for a moment as she asked, “Alastor… this might be weird, but… would you stay?”

“Excuse me?” he asked. He must have misheard her, there was no way she just asked what he thought.

“Would you stay? In the room, I mean. You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable, I know it’s weird, I just…. I just don’t want to be alone.”

Well, how could he say no to that?

Not trusting his voice the radio demon only gave a jerky nod, then turned away so that she could undress and slip into the water, though his hearing seemed to have inexplicably heightened in the very short amount of time it took. He was hyper-aware of each rustle of her clothing, the sound of the cloth falling to the floor, each sound reminding him that he was only a head turn away from a glimpse of her nude form. Not that he was going to look! No, lord no, his mother would have his antlers if he even so much as dared… The water splashed slightly. He assumed that meant Charlie was in the tub now, but he still didn’t turn. Not until Charlie spoke.

“You can turn around, Al’” the princess sounded amused, “There are more than enough bubbles, you can't see anything.”

“I’m… I’m not certain that would be appropriate” his reply sounded almost strangled.

“Okay… I just feel weird talking to the back of your head.”

Shutting his eyes for a moment, just long enough to scold himself for the wandering thoughts, Alastor decided it really wouldn’t be too bad if he turned around – she said she was covered, and as long as he kept his eyes on her face and stayed right where he was, what was the worst that could happen? Really, he was already painfully aware of her, what was the sight of her pale soft damp skin going to… ah. Well, that was yet another thought that would haunt him later.

He did turn, but he made absolutely certain his gaze did not fall anywhere near the tub, leaning against the skin countertops with one of his ankles hooked around the other – the picture of casual, as long as you didn’t notice the way he stared very hard at the plain tiled wall. Charlie did notice, in other circ*mstances, she might have teased him a little, but at this moment she was simply relieved he had acquiesced to her request for him to stay. She’d been completely honest when she told him she didn’t want to be alone. The appearance of both her parents aside, she felt as if there was just too much going through her head for her to think about. As she said before, attempts on her life were nothing new, but two in such a short time took its toll – the fact one had come so close to being successful, had caused her harm in a way others had never managed, shook the belief that such attempts where lame at best. The drain of her magic, leaving her feeling weaker than she ever had before, on top of that did not help. Never mind that her own careful control had broken, she’d snapped and if it hadn’t been for Alastor’s intervention she’d have killed that Imp. She’d have killed him, and she’d have enjoyed doing it.

“I wish we never came here” she blurted suddenly, drawing her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on them.

He almost looked at her but caught himself.

“Angel was right,” Charlie continued to mumble, “I didn’t want to come here in the first place, I should have just stayed at the hotel.”

Still staring at the wall, Alastor tilted his head, “But I thought you didn’t have a choice?”

“I didn’t,” she mindlessly agreed, absentmindedly popping bubbles with her claw “but who was going to force me? Dad needed me to go because he was… whatever. The worst that would have happened is he’d be disappointed – what’s new there? – and my reputation would take a hit with the rest of the royals, which, dunno if you noticed, isn’t exactly fantastic anyway so what’s the point?”

He frowned, not at all appreciating the self-deprecating tone she used, and decided to come at it with a new angle. Clearing his throat, Alastor admitted, “Well… think of it this way - if we did not come here, I probably wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation with you. No! I’d have continued sulking about the hotel licking my own wounds until my last breath and the rest of you’d have been none the wiser!”

Silence followed his statement, he worried it might have been the wrong thing to say, enough for him to risk a glance (the thought having crossed his mind that she could have given in to her exhaustion and passed out in the water) and immediately glanced away knowing that the image of her sitting in the tub surrounded by bubbles, pale blonde hair sticking to her neck and shoulders as she stared at him with huge ruby eyes would not soon be forgotten.

“Maybe.” Charlie said eventually, “But I knew… I knew something was wrong, back at the hotel. But Husk just said you were just pissed because Adam beat you in the fight, but I knew it was something more… but you were so standoffish when I asked if you needed help, I guess I just – I just didn’t know how to approach it, or you, and everyone was telling me it was probably nothing…”

Hearing that Husk and others at the hotel had chalked up his behaviour of late to merely being beaten in a fight was a little irksome, he had to admit, as was the fact that Charlie (sweetheart that she was, the only one to think something else was wrong) had almost been convinced of that fact too. He’d have thought Husk would know him better by now, with how long they’d known each other!

He gave a dry chuckle, “Well, my dear, consider it another lesson – always trust your gut on these things. Never let the assumptions of others sway your natural instinct.”

“…I’ll try,” came her non-committal reply, cheek resting against her knee sullenly.

“Now, now, my dear, what have I told you about frowning?” he knew without risking another glance in her direction that her brow was furrowed, “perhaps it might entertain you to know you are the first since my mother to get away with scolding me the way you did on our first night here! I was rather impressed with your temper!”

His comment seemed to have the desired effect, causing her to chuckle. “Maybe I should do it more often.”

“Maybe you should,” he murmured in agreement, quickly shaking his head at the racy thoughts it inspired, scolding himself for allowing his mind to go down that path and blaming the temptation she presented right now. Alastor turned away from her completely, using the excuse of sorting through the already perfectly stacked towels in the cubby to keep his back to her as he spoke a little louder, pointing out, “Besides! Had you never come here, the plan to take the Goetia heiress would have still gone ahead, and perhaps befallen a worse fate!”

“That’s true,” Charlie agreed, “… but credit for that should go to you. You’re the one who stopped them getting away with her.”

“Only because you asked it of me, my dear.” He reminded her, hoping it was enough to squash any thoughts of altruism on his part that she may have been having.

He had to admit, though, It was a night he would never forget, no matter how long his afterlife lasted, the memory of Charlie… standing over that Imp with flames bursting around her, eyes slitted and glowing, black lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed fangs, hands curled into claws as the skin of her arms turned a deep red and black rather than her usual pale, tail lashing behind her and horns tall and proud while flames licked up them into what looked like a flaming halo. If this was how she’d looked during the battle at the hotel then even Nifty’s creative descriptions had not done her justice. She’s looked every bit like the Princess of Hell in her rage, the most breathtaking thing he’d seen, in both this life or the last. If it hadn’t been for what followed after, when her magic had revealed to everyone around the true natures they wished the keep hidden – the chains they held or the chains they wore, in particular – he’d have looked back on the night fondly.

He didn’t know if anyone had seen the chain he wore, though with the angle he’d been stood there were only a few who might have seen, and he felt as if Rosie would have mentioned it if she’d seen it – he didn’t think she’d gossip about it, her loyalty ran too deep to those she truly cared about, and he was lucky enough to be one of those few – but she’d want to know the story there. He suspected (and hoped) it had faded from sight once again before Lucifer arrived, very much doubting the kind would have been able to keep his mouth shut if he did. That left Charlie. She hadn’t said anything either, it was his hope she’d been too absorbed with what was happening to herself to even notice.

Charlie watched him from the bathtub. Truly… she was beginning to feel better, soaking in the hot water helped combat the bone-aching cold she’d felt since waking. When Belphegor had visited, giving her another once over, she’d explained that in flushing out the poison from her system her magic had completely burned itself out – leaving her feeling cold, weak and for lack of a better word, fragile. The princess felt as if one strong breeze might blow her over, not something she was used to feeling! But the bath helped, replacing that warmth she’d lost, easing the aches and pains she felt. Even if the conversation wasn’t the most distracting.

He was, though. She’d watched him the entire time they were talking, and it hadn’t escaped her notice how he was trying to look at anything besides her – not that it surprised her, just how the red blush on his cheeks the few times he had looked hadn’t surprised her either, but it was oddly flattering. Considering she didn’t think he was ever interested in, well, anyone it was flattering to know she could make him blush – even if it had more to do with the situation than just her. A few times it had looked as if he had to stop himself from looking at her, his hand flexing to form a fist each time, but that was probably just a reflex. It reminded her of his kiss, chaste as it had been, but what did it mean? She desperately wanted to ask him, even opened her mouth once, twice, to ask, but the words never seemed to come. Afraid of the answer he’d give.

C’mon Charlie, just ask him!

“I… I was, I just-“ she struggled, closing her eyes to find the words, blurting out “I-I-I… uh, I was just thinking, about… about the hotel!”

Coward.

“The hotel?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, putting on a fake smile while her inner voice scolded her for chickening about, “I… I haven’t had any more calls from Angel or Vaggie, so I guess everything must be okay…”

“Any more?” Alastor tilted his head, “have you had many?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the kitchen fire…”

“The what?!”

“Don’t worry, I told Angel where to find the extinguishers.”

“Oh, yes, well. Pardon me if I am still mildly concerned,” the deer demon rolled his eyes. They leave for a few days and those fools immediately set the kitchen on fire, why was he surprised?!

“I was thinking, when we get back, I might start a new thing…” Charlie sank down into the water, her head barely visible through the massive piles of foamy bubbles that surrounded her, “…I didn’t realise how much I missed family dinners until we came here. It's loud, messy and completely chaotic most of the time but… I missed it. I think we should start doing them at the hotel, I know we’re not really a family but it might be nice. Not every night, but maybe just once a week?”

Alastor didn’t immediately reply, Charlie assumed he probably thought the idea was stupid and was trying to be polite about telling her, so she was surprised when he responded.

“I think that sounds like a marvellous idea, my dear!”

His voice was closer, Charlie sat herself up a little further in the water to see he’d come to stand almost within arm’s reach of the tub – though he still wasn’t looking at her – placing a few large towels within her reach on the countertop. She’d wondered what he’d been doing standing by the cubby for so long.

“Really?!”

“Of course,” he nodded, “you know, my mother often said a good meal is much better when shared. It's one of the few ideologies she used to force me into social exchanges with our neighbours that I actually agreed with.”

“You do?” she tilted her head.

“I do, why, you should know by now I never miss an opportunity to demonstrate my cooking skills.”

“Ahh,” she smirked, “so you just want to cook so we’ll compliment you again?”

“Why else? It does wonders for one's ego, you know!”

Charlie rolled her eyes, a snicker escaping “If your ego gets any bigger I think you’ll have trouble getting through the hotel doors.”

“You wound me, darling” he pressed a hand against his chest but sounded more amused than offended.

“Does that mean you’re volunteering to cook every family dinner?” Charlie tried not to sound too hopeful, though with his hearing there seemed to be little chance of him not hearing it.

“I might be persuaded,” he said teasingly, “but let's discuss it when we go back, hmm?”

“Okay!” Charlie agreed enthusiastically, though her mood seemed to dip once more as another thought entered her mind. “Al… I… I think I want to go, tomorrow. To hear what my parents have to say. I think Rosie is right, it might help to hear it in a group. But… afterwards, can we head back to the hotel? I… I think it’s time to go home.”

Hmm, home.

“I think we can make that happen.”

XXXXXXX

Charlie had fallen asleep almost the second she was out of the bath, warm and relaxed buried into the bedcovers like a little bug, but it hadn’t lasted. The cold sensation returned as she was sleeping, her muscles stiffening once more, and when it came time to wake up Alastor had quite the time trying to coax her back into the land of consciousness.

Still, she was determined to go downstairs and hear what her parents had to say, and with Rosie’s help, they were able to get her presentable and slip into the back of the crowded hall into a dark corner where they would not immediately be noticed. Charlie didn’t want her parents distracted knowing she was there, so they sat her in a chair and stood in front of her to hide her from their view.

Alastor was more than a little concerned that her teeth kept chattering, but she’d vehemently turned down any suggestion of staying in bed that morning, a steely look of determination on her face.

The hall was completely packed, More were still filing in, finding seats, the usual tables not put back in place since the party the night before. It seemed every demon here had made it on time for this particular meeting, with all six of the sins plus Lucifer and Lilith sitting at the head table – even Belphegor looked awake and completely alert for once. No one so much as glanced in their direction, and just in case they did, Alastor had his shadow surround Charlie to make her less noticeable in the corner. If he’d had the power he’d have shrouded all three of them in darkness, he was always more comfortable observing things from the shadows when he wasn’t certain what to expect, but even with Rosie supplying him a hearty breakfast of sinner meat he knew he didn’t have the power for it just yet.

A hush came over the hall when Lilith stood from the table, waiting for true silence before she spoke.

“Good morning, and… thank you all for agreeing to hear what it is I have to say this morning. I want to start by addressing my absence these last seven years, for which I can only continue to apologise. The matter was decided spur of the moment, and I was not given time to prepare myself, nor my family, or my people.” The queen started, Lucifer beside her reaching for her hand and giving it a silent squeeze of support.

“As many of you may or perhaps may not be aware, seven years ago there were rumours of a rebellion – dissatisfied demons of hell who wanted not only to overtake the royal family but to wage war on both heaven and earth. I, like many, dismissed these rumours…” Lilith paused, a ripple of murmurs through the room, her eyes having landed on Alastor. She didn’t show any surprise to see him there, but held his gaze a moment longer than he was comfortable with before sweeping it across the room again as she continued speaking, “But when heaven came to me with proof of these allegations and their plan for how to deal with it, I offered them a deal.”

The murmurs exploded into outright chatter, questions – demands for answers - were shouted at the queen but she remained motionless and silent until the noise died down again.

“Adam was sent as their negotiator,” Lilith continued to explain, glancing back at her husband who offered a weak smile, “and I offered him something I knew he wanted more – a way to hurt Lucifer. I offered myself, in exchange for the safety of Hells Citizens. But heaven’s command demanded that the overpopulation in hell be fixed, and so I had to amend my offer. For the sake of my daughter, it was decided that only sinners be the target of the yearly exterminations, that no hell-born demon could be harmed. Unless the deal was broken, not even Lucifer could lift a finger to stop them. Adam agreed to my terms, giving me no opportunity to say my goodbyes, had Lucifer not been present at the time not even he would have known about the deal.”

Charlie had been listening to everything, hidden behind Rosie and Alastor, stiffened as these words hit her like a physical slap. Her dad… her dad had known about this the whole time?! He knew this whole time and he never told her…

Alastor stiffened despite expecting it when Charlie leaned against him after hearing that her father had known the whole damn time about this deal. Beside him Rosie reached back, rubbing the poor girl's shoulder in silent support, openly glaring at the royal couple.

“Pardon, Ma’am, but given you’ve returned - and recent events in Pride – does that mean the terms of your deal are broken?” a green bird-like demon raised a hand as she asked “Are we all in danger from the exterminations now?”

“No,” Lucifer was the one who answered, standing up beside his wife “That deal was broken the second Adam targeted my daughter, which finally allowed me to kick that sorry bas- err, I mean, which finally allowed me to intervene. Not that my wife was aware of that until much later…”

“It’s true,” Lilith agreed, patting her husband's shoulder, “Adam’s part of the deal meant that the rest of heaven was unaware of the true nature of our deal – they were under the impression I had betrayed my people in exchange for admittance to the pearly gates. After the last battle, I was tasked with returning to Hell and stopping Charlie if I wanted to keep my place up there.”

“Then it’s true, the princess’s actions have started a war!” a bright blue peaco*ck demon cried haughtily. Hidden behind the two overlords, Charlie flinched.

“No!” both the king and queen shouted before they each composed themselves.

“Princess Charlotte did not start a war – she prevented one,” Lilith’s voice was stern and encouraged no argument, gaze now flinty as she glared at the room, “because what happened next was… unprecedented. She redeemed a sinner.”

The room went completely, utterly, silent. Charlie stopped breathing completely, not entirely sure she’d heard correctly. Or if she had, then surely this was just some crazy realistic dream?! Rosie gasped, a hand going to her mouth, while Alastor felt his eyes widen.

“It would appear that during the fight of the last extermination, one of the sinners Charlie was attempting to redeem fell to Adam while attempting to defend the others from his attack,” Lucifer took over explaining the best he could when someone asked, “that’s why I was unable to attend the Conclave, Heaven demanded I meet with them because they were, well, unprepared for such a thing. They were as clueless about it as we were!”

“But what does it mean?!” Demons clamoured to ask questions.

“Will the exterminations stop?”

“If sinners can be redeemed, can Hellborn too?!”

“Whoa, okay!” Lucifer held onto his hat, eyes flickering across the increasingly unruly crowd, “as I said, we don’t have all the answers here! In fact… we don’t have any! No one had bothered to even try redemption until Charlie! No one else ever thought a soul could change!”

“But what does it mean for exterminations?” someone shouted, “will they still go ahead? Are the Hellborn at risk?!”

“Heaven has decided that, for now, yes the exterminations will continue” Lilith explained, disappointment dripping from her tone and an expression like she’d eaten something sour, “it was decided that, in six months, Charlie only managed to redeem one sinner – not enough to consider it a feasible solution to the overpopulation issue. As it stands, only sinners will be a target, but should any exterminators decide to get… overzealous you are free to defend yourselves. They have stated to being open to working with Charlie and her hotel, and the possibility to end the exterminations should it become more successful.”

The room, which had until now been a simmering pot of comments of questions, seemed to suddenly reach its boiling point as everyone exploded all at once each demanding answers or explanations.

Alastor had been stood completely frozen, oblivious to almost everything, shook to his very core that… Charlie had been right, redemption is possible?

He barely even noticed the way she was tugging at his coat sleeve, so caught in his thoughts. He looked down at Charlie expecting a smile, for her bright eyes to be sparkling, gleeful at the news she had been right. But her expression was exhausted, her eyes shiny with unshed tears, and her lips tipped downwards as she quietly asked him if they could leave. She did not need to ask him twice.

He carried her out of the hall, knowing her legs were too unsteady to hold her long enough to get up to their room, neither of them stopping long enough to worry if they were seen nor particularly caring if they were. Each absorbed in their own thoughts following what they had just heard, not a word was said, at least until they got back to the room.

Alastor set her back on her feet once they got into the room, turning to shut the door behind them, he almost jumped out of his skin when she suddenly exploded into loud sobs.

“He’s n-n-not dead!” Charlie wailed, falling to her knees, both from exhaustion and the relief that would have taken her knees out from under her even if she had been at full strength. “I-I-I didn’t get him killed! S-sir Pentious is-he’s… and, and my mother! She-she doesn’t h-hate me!”

“There, there,” Alastor knew he sounded awkward, crouching down to pat her shoulders, his arms thrown out to catch his balance when she suddenly launched herself into his arms and buried her face into his chest as she continued to sob and mumble incoherently. He had no idea what to do, his mind apparently still shaken by the news himself offered zero ideas, and when he looked up at Razzle currently perched on the back of the sofa watching them the goat demon only gave a slow blink, its tongue poking between its lips.

A knock on the door was his saving grace, though it still took a few moments to extract himself from Charlie’s hold – Alastor ended up having to pick her up off the floor and deposit her onto the sofa where he shoved Razzle into her tearful grip instead, tugging the lapels of his coat to straighten if after the unexpected attack, he opened the door expecting Rosie, and froze when he saw Lilith instead.

“Good morning,” the queen greeted (he heard Charlie’s sobs cease almost immediately behind him), then asked, “I was hoping I might be able to speak with my daughter?”

“Mom?” Charlie poked her head over the top of the sofa, face still tear-stained, and squeezing poor Razzle to her chest so tightly his eyes bulged a little – though, he didn’t seem bothered by it, making no attempts to wriggle free. The blonde knew that with a simple shake of her head, Alastor would not hesitate to slam the door in the queen's face, it would probably entertain him greatly to do so, but… he was right when he said they needed to talk eventually.

“Charlie,” Lilith breezed into the room past Alastor, but she hesitated once she reached the sofa, hand half reaching for Charlie but she snatched it back and settled for sitting at the other end almost awkwardly. Alastor shut the door gently but kept his narrowed gaze on the queen.

“Is-“ Charlie wiped at her cheeks, “-is the meeting over already?”

“Oh, no, but I heard that your father got rather out of practice dealing with our people during my absence… and right now I thought you might need me more.”

Charlie’s eyes were welling up with tears again, but she seemed to hold onto them this time, Lilith again made a move to get closer but faltered when she glanced at Alastor. He wondered at her hesitance for a moment, but at a quick look from Charlie, he made a judgment call.

“I will be on the balcony should you need me,” he spoke to Charlie directly, making his swift exit – but left his shadow. He would be able to keep an eye on her through the glass doors of course, should the queen have any sinister intentions, and Razzle was right there too. No doubt the little goat would not hesitate to protect her, even from the queen. His shadow was his ears in the room, while he really wished he could allow Charlie a private conversation with her mother, he could not miss an opportunity to collect more information.

The moment the sliding doors clicked shut behind the sinner, Lilith’s voice lost the airs and graces of a queen and became more like a desperate mother, full of regret and sorrow as she said, “Charlie, my darling Charlie, I need to apologise-“

“-no, you don’t-” Charlie’s refusal was automatic, shaking her head.

“-yes, I do, darling. Even if you don’t think it, you deserve an apology. I left you without your mother for a long, and I knew you needed me. I got your messages, I heard your pain and felt your heartbreak as if it were my own, but you were owed explanations I didn’t know how to give you at the time. But I want you to know I was never disappointed in you, and neither was your father, even if we aren’t the best at showing it. And… if you can find it in your heart, please try not to hate him for not telling you the truth. We thought it might hurt you less if, like everyone else, you thought I’d just left on some adventure…”

“I don’t hate you, or dad!” Charlie was quick to assure, sniffling a little, still hugging Razzle.

“I’m relieved,” Lilith gave a small smile, “but… we will both understand if you need some time.”

“Thank you, I…” Charlie mumbled, not quite able to meet her mother's gaze. “Can… can I ask-?”

“You can ask whatever you want. I will answer.”

“When you were in heaven, with Adam…”

“Yes?”

“…did you ever… you know?”

Lilith’s lips quirked, as if resisting a laugh, “are you trying to ask if I ever slept with him?”

“Yeeeesss?” Charlie wrinkled her face, burying half of it in the top of Razzle’s head. She didn’t know why she asked, why the question bothered her so much, it wasn’t like she could do anything about it with him being dead…

“No,” Lilith chuckled at her daughter's response, “not that he did not attempt once or twice, but he could hardly handle my temper when I was just a mortal woman, let alone the Queen of Hell. Despite his self-righteous attitude, he was respectful of my choice to refuse him.

“Adam, respectful?” Charlie actually snorted.

“Like most souls, darling, he was complicated.” Lilith sighed, “Not that it’s an excuse, but deep down… deep down he was little more than a spoiled child. Heaven doted on him from the day of his creation and told him he was special. He never could understand it when others did not agree or fall at his feet. I don’t think he wanted me because he lusted after me, dear, so I was never in danger of that. I think he viewed me as a toy Lucifer had taken from him and he wanted to snatch it back. Believe it or not, we were… I suppose you could say we were friends. At least, when no one was looking. Sometimes I wondered if I could not change that attitude of his, if not for his soldiers always hanging around.”

“Lute?” Charlie guessed sourly.

“Mm, yes” Lilith pursed her lips, “she was the… loudest supporter for the exterminations to continue.”

“I didn’t think she’d let Adam’s death go easily,” Charlie mumbled, resting her chin on Razzle’s head.

“No,” her mother agreed softly.

“So… what happens now?”

“Now? Well, that’s up to you. It’s my hope that you will return to your hotel and continue the work you’re doing.”

“I… I meant with us.”

“Oh.” Lilith did hesitate a moment, but finally, she gave in to the urge to reach out and tucked a strand of Charlie’s loose hair behind her ear, just as she’d done when she was a child. “I… I feel, for what I’ve done, I have no right to resume the role of your mother… Your life changed so much since I left, and you’ve grown up so much! But I hope, that over time, I can earn that place in your life again.”

“… I would like that.”

“I’m glad,” Lilith reached out again, resting a hand on her daughter’s cheek. After a moment she pulled away again, sighing, “I should probably go back downstairs and rescue your father…”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed, she could almost imagine the panic on her father’s expression as he struggled to answer the questions that were being shouted when they left the meeting hall.

“I… we really are proud of the demoness you’ve become, Charlotte, truly.”

Charlie felt her eyes burn, vision blurry with tears that threatened to start falling again, only nodded and buried her face in Razzle’s fur again – poor little goat demon would be drenched by the time this conversation was done.

Lilith could only smile gently at her daughter, her gaze lifting a moment to the scarlet-clad Sinner who waited on the balcony, giving him an odd look. His back was turned but she had no doubt he was as aware of them as she was of him.

The queen left without another word, Charlie managed to hold onto her tears as best she could until she heard the door click shut, then sniffled quietly as the flood came. She didn’t even notice the sound of the balcony doors as Alastor re-entered, only becoming aware of him when he spoke from where he’d perched himself, on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“Come now, my dear, why all the tears?” he was genuinely perplexed, “has not all this been good news? Your hotel – ridiculous and misguided as we all thought it was – works, your mother has returned and, well, yes I suppose the exterminations continuing is a bit of a dower point but we can't win every battle immediately!”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered and looked at him through watery eyes, “I can’t stop!”

Well, that wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear. But he wasn’t altogether surprised when she leaned into him, her temple against his waist, and continued to sniffle. Truly she couldn’t seem to stop, it seemed that along with her physical strength, her emotional strength had been diminished too. It was simply all too much all at once.

He sighed, but allowed his hand to fall against her head, long fingers brushing her hair over her shoulder and out of her face so it would not get damp from her tears. He may have continued to stroke the long strands for longer than was necessary, lost in his own thoughts too.

“Alastor?” she said after a few moments.

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go home.”

Chapter 18: A Less Than Triumphant Return

Chapter Text

The train ride home was… tense.

Charlie's parents had decided to join them and leave the Conclave early when they had heard they were returning to the hotel, which had resulted in the four-plus Razzle – occupying the royal carriage. Charlie had been uncharacteristically quiet, merely staring out of the window with her head in her hand and petting Razzle absently on her lap. Lilith had turned on some soft music and would occasionally hum along, while Lucifer chattered listlessly for at least the first twenty minutes of the journey or threw the occasional insult towards Alastor who for the most part ignored him. Ignoring the king seemed to piss him off more than any retaliation could, and the radio demon rather enjoyed his red-faced frustration.

Besides, there was no need for him to say anything at all to piss him off, not after Charlie drifted off to sleep and ended up falling with her head in his lap after the train made a particularly violent turn. Alastor made absolutely no move to shift her head from his knee, in fact, he was careful to adjust her and smirked when Lucifer practically exploded in his seat – only tempered when his wife laid a hand on his knee and gave him a stern look.

Alastor told himself he allowed it only to annoy Lucifer, considering he had firmly told himself that all this… whatever this was, with Charlie, must stop now they left the Lodge – but he was only lying to himself. Presented with an opportunity to extend this closeness, he wasn’t about to squander it, though he resisted the urge to tangle his fingers in her hair with her parents watching. He wanted them to believe he was as unaffected by this as anyone else. When they got back to the hotel it would stop. No more allowing her casual touch, the hugs, cuddling… the kisses. No. Their relationship would return to what it had been before, nothing more than Hotelier and Princess, an odd partnership, but nothing more than that. He would not seek out her company, nor allow her to seek his, and with time these accursed feelings would either fade, or he’d succeed in burying them so deep it would take an entire archaeology team to excavate them. She’d be safe from the hurt and heartbreak he’d bring her.

He’d felt the weight of the chain around his throat just a little more ever since learning Charlie had successfully redeemed a soul, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they would learn of it too. Only a matter of time before he’d feel that familiar pull he loathed that set his fur on end.

When the train arrived back in Pentagram City, Lucifer was the first to jump up from his seat and wasted no time scooping the sleeping Charlie into his arms – going so far as to poke his tongue out at Alastor petulantly as he did – and carried her away, leaving Alastor to collect her suitcase. The radio demon only rolled his eyes at the infantile behaviour.

He had his back to the queen as he collected the suitcase from the overhead rail, having honestly thought she’d followed her husband when he left, he was caught off guard when she spoke, “I do remember you.”

“Pardon?” Alastor turned to Lilith with a puzzled arch of his eyebrow.

“I remember you,” the queen’s soft smile had dropped, replaced with a stony expression “I know… and the only reason I have not said anything to my husband or my daughter is because you clearly care very deeply for Charlie.”

“And you are telling me this because…?” Alastor said with bravado, “seems rather unwise to tip ones hand so early in the game.”

Lilith actually laughed, “Oh, this not a game, child! And I pity you if you think I’m playing. I’m warning you because if you hurt her I will be the one to make sure you know the true meaning of pain. You think you are dangerous, sinner and you may well be – but I am the Mother of Demons, and I know more than one way to keep you so close to death you’ll wish for it. Don’t give me an excuse.”

He believed her. She spoke so matter of factly, as if they were only discussing the weather, but there was a spark in her eye he was more than familiar with. As though she’d relish the opportunity if he presented it.

“Hurting her is the last thing I want to do,” he decided to answer honestly, holding the queen's gaze, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding when she gave a curt nod before stalking out of the carriage ahead of him.

Lucifer had tucked Charlie – still miraculously sleeping- into one of two waiting cars by the time he got off the train with her suitcase, while Lilith had gone to the other. They had left with them but decided against coming straight to the hotel just yet, though Lucifer had whined about it. Lilith insisted they give Charlie her space to process and recover, for which Alastor was relieved. He didn’t think he could put up with Lucifer’s shenanigans around the hotel right now, not without giving in to the temptation to break the king's neck anyway, which he doubted Charlie would approve of.

“If you touch one hair on her-“ Lucifer caught him by the elbow before he could join Charlie in the car, attempting to threaten him, which he took far less gracefully than he had Lilith’s.

“-you will attempt to do some unspeakable thing, yes, yes, all very intimidating” Alastor rolled his eyes and smirked, “Or it would be if only you were a few inches taller than a flea!”

He slipped into the car before Lucifer could respond, the driver speeding away faster with the same lack of respect for road law that most demons possessed, but at least it meant they reached the other side of the city in what must have been record speed. He’d never quite been so relieved as the Hazbin Hotel came looming into view.

He had the option of attempting to wake Charlie once they had arrived and he paid the driver but chose not to. She needed her rest after all, and it did give him one last perfect excuse to hold her close before he forbade himself from ever touching her again.

Alastor lifted her in his arms bridal style this time leaving Razzle to carry her suitcase up the hotel’s front steps. It was mid-afternoon, and with any luck, there would be no one around in the hotel to see them anyway.

However, following their experience of the last few days, there was no such luck to be had.

Husk and Angel were both at the bar in the corner of the foyer, apparently having a rather quiet discussion – at least quiet enough that he did not immediately notice them upon entering – at least until Husk noticed them, the cat demons eyes going wide as he paused mid-wipe of the bar and causing Angel to turn around.

Angel blinked, eyebrows raised, “Well Holy sh*t, what the f*ck happened to you two? Looks as if you’ve been to hell and back, ha!”

“Something like that,” was all Alastor replied in a dry tone, fully intending to walk right past them on his way to Charlie’s room.

“Uh, wait – boss!” Husk, surprisingly, was the one to call out “There’s something we gotta tell-“

Alastor did not pause, only snapping “-and it can wait until I have taken Charlie to her room.”

“But, you should both know-“

“Husker!” If Alastor had a free hand to rub over his eyes he probably would have but settled for glaring at the other two demons “In the last few days she has been berated by her people, harassed by her ex, bludgeoned, poisoned, attempted to be kidnapped and put through the confusion emotional reunion of her parents on top of the vindication that her hotel actually works. She’s exhausted. I’m exhausted. Can whatever it is really not wait until tomorrow morning?”

Husk and Angel both blinked a few times, the barman recovering first – though he could only give a jerky nod – while Angel continued to blink. Alastor had turned away and managed to get into the elevator, doors shutting just as he heard Angel asking ‘What sort of shindigs do these royals have?!’

They ran into no one else in the short walk from the elevator to Charlie’s room, not that he expected they would. Her room was the only one currently occupying the top floor after all, and rarely saw visitors. Still, it was a relief. The fewer people who saw the better – at least Husk he could threaten into silence, and if Angel decided to go on telling everyone how he carried her upstairs it would be easy to convince others it was all in his head, the result of one too many pink co*cktails.

Her door was unlocked, thankfully, and it was easy to wander inside – his shadow flicking the light switch as they entered. It was as he remembered, with the four-poster bed with its royal purple curtains and sheets at the centre. He carried her to it, laying her down gently with her head on the pillow, pulling the blanket over her. With any luck, when she did wake, it would bring her some comfort to be in the familiar surroundings of her own bedroom.

Alastor stood over her, just watching for a moment, before forcing himself to turn away. Business as usual, he told himself as he adjusted his tie, no more of… no more of this.

He barely got half a step away before something snagged on his sleeve.

“Will you stay?” Charlie asked, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“I…” Alastor cleared his throat, “I shouldn’t.”

“Please?” there was a slight whimper in her tone “Just until I fall asleep again…”

He shouldn’t. He knew he should just walk away, shake her grip from his coat, and tell her no. Start rebuilding those walls she’d so effectively smashed down. But he made the mistake of looking over his shoulder, saw the pleading in her wide eyes, and knew he was a goner.

“…just until you fall asleep.”

He perched on the side of her bed, making it clear both to her and himself that he would not be staying any longer than was completely necessary, and watched as Razzle trotted himself over to a basket in the corner and flopped into it seemingly passing straight out.

“Thank you,” Charlie wriggled, getting comfier in her bed. Her eyes had fallen shut again. It didn’t look like he would need to stay very long before she fell asleep again.

“Don’t mention it, but I will draw the line if you ask me to tell you a bedtime story, princess or not.”

“You do owe me a story though,” came her sleepy reply, lips quirking ever so slightly at his quip.

His eyebrows raised, “I do?”

“Yeah…” she sounded close to drifting off, her words coming out soft enough he found himself leaning closer to hear, “… you… I forgot to ask… about your deal.”