Archive of Our Own ^beta

They had to build the hotel back from the ground up. The last fight with Adam had torn the building in half all the way through to the foundation and into the unholy ground of Hell itself. But thanks to Lucifer’s magical angelic assistance, they had made a lot of progress. The hotel was yet nothing more than bare walls and empty rooms, but Charlie had a fantastic team and a dream to fulfill. This hotel would be ready to house guests in no time.

The only inhabitable area of the hotel, as of now, was the lobby with its few tables and sofas, which they used to sleep on until they could furnish their individual rooms. Lucifer, who had been returning to his palace every night, had offered his daughter to move back in for the duration.

‘You still have a room there, you know. I left it just as it was when you… moved out.’ He had smiled awkwardly, stumbling over his words at the end when he held out his hand for her. ‘Your girlfriend is invited too, of course! As are the rest of your friends,’ he ehe added hastily and laughed clumsily, ‘Ha, I mean the palace is big enough for all of you! Don’t even worry about that!’

Charlie had smiled but shaken her head. ‘Thanks dad, but I think we can get more work done if we stay here.’

Charlie had hoped her dad would stay with them, but no matter how many hints she left him, he always retreated to his palace. Nevertheless, he was always there when Charlie woke up the next day, smiling and laughing with the other residents, greeting them with a fresh batch of pancakes.

⛧

“Where were you during lunch?” Vaggie whispered the question into Charlie’s hair as they cuddled on a far too small sofa.

Charlie turned around to face her partner, careful to not push her over the edge. They had installed simple curtains over the big windows in the lobby the day before and now the nights spent in the big hall seemed far too dark.

“I had an errand to run,” she whispered back, cautious to keep her voice as low as possible to not disturb the others sleeping around them.

Vaggie searched Charlie’s face for more clues. “For the hotel?”

Charlie nodded and lowered her eyes as she felt the first pinpricks of tears blurry her vision. She had been able to keep it together as she had handed the pictures and her crude sketch of an idea over to the painter. She had intended to keep it a secret so she could surprise her friends with it once it was finished, but as she lay with Vaggie, bodies so close to each other that they could feel each other’s hearts beating in synch, she couldn’t keep her emotions in check.

“I commissioned a painting for—” Charlie voice hitched, tears rolling down her face, soaking into the cushion, “for Sir Pentious.”

“Oh, Charlie.” Vaggie smiled sadly and wiped the tears from her lover’s face. “That is a beautiful idea.”

“It will be grand, Vaggie,” Charlie whispered, her eyes bright with tears and confidence. “From the floor to the ceiling, it will be grand,” she repeated, “just like his actions.”

Vaggie felt her own smile waver, her eyes burning and she took her hand from Charlie’s face and put it behind her head, pulling their faces together until their foreheads touched. “I love you,” she breathed.

Charlie’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her even closer than before. “I love you too.”

⛧

While the construction of the hotel was going steadily, there was still a lot of clean up around the area to be done. Charlie walked through the rubble with Keekee following a few paces behind, checking if there was anything that could be salvaged from the mess. She stopped when Alastor’s radio tower came into view.

They had looked for him there right after the battle, but there had been no sign of the Radio Demon and Charlie feared the worst. And seeing it now, still unoccupied and no Alastor by their side, Charlie wondered if she’ll ever see him again.

“I was looking for you!”

“Vaggie!” Charlie smiled sheepishly, wringing her hands as her girlfriend approached her.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked but then her eye fell onto the remnants of the tower and her gaze softened in understanding.

“I’m worried about him, Vaggie,” Charlie confessed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Vaggie put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Angel said that Husk had told him that the contract was still in effect. He’s alive and well, probably trying to mend his damaged pride at loosing to that prick.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Charlie agreed half heartily.

Vaggie squeezed her shoulder again, getting Charlie’s attention and smiled encouragingly. “Come on, your dad’s looking for your opinion on what wallpaper to choose for the lobby and hallways.”

Charlie smiled. “I’m sure he can handle it.”

“Only if you’re okay with duck imagery.”

Charlie giggled. “Yeah, I’d rather have something more professional.”

Vaggie laughed. “Just what I thought. Come on.” She nodded her head to indicate, that Charlie should follow her as she turned back to track through the rubble.

Charlie was about to follow Vaggie back to the hotel, when she remembered that Keekee had followed her out here, so she turned around calling for her fluffy friend.

When all stayed silent Charlie got a surge of worry for her feline friend, calling for her again, hoping that she hadn’t got stuck or buried somewhere beneath the ruins.

Charlie found her unharmed behind a heep of rubble, staring intently at the radio tower. The black fur on her back stood up and her ears where rigidly pointed up, as if she was hearing something that Charlie wasn’t picking up on.

“Keekee,” Charlie called again, but Keekee’s ears barely twitched in her direction, so Charlie stepped closer, intending to pick her up when she heard something. Or at least she thought that she had. Everything was quiet and Charlie thought she had simply imagined the melody until it picked up again.

Charlie gasped, stumbling past Keekee towards the radio tower and the closer she got the louder the music grew. She was close enough to pick up on the different tunes as it seemingly turned to various radio stations at irregular intervals and every time it did, the staticky interference made a shudder ran down her spine. These didn’t sound like the occasional tunes she learned to except in the presence of Alastor. Charlie would almost say they sounded distressed.

“Alastor?” she hesitantly called out. No one answered.

She stopped under the trapdoor. Charlie felt guilty for intending to enter the space Alastor had made very clear was off-limits to everyone, but the sound was clearly coming from inside and something about that gave Charlie a very bad feeling. So she gave him one last chance.

“Alastor, are you in there?” Charlie said, almost shouting to make sure it was heard over the creepy music. “If you don’t give me a sign that you’re fine, I’m going to walk in, okay? We are all worried about you.”

Again, no reply. Charlie sighed and climbed up the few steps until she could push the trapdoor open. The music turned instantly to static, filling the air with screeching and buzzing, voices talked over each other, a cacophony of layered broadcasts and beneath it all a jarring scream.

Charlie almost let the trapdoor fall shut above her. She didn’t like this one tiny bit. There was something wrong and if Alastor was there and needed help, she would do anything to make sure he got it.

She pushed the trapdoor the rest of the way open and peered over the edge.

“Holy shit...”

An unnatural looking mass, a shadow was pulsating across the room from her.

Charlie gasped and pulled herself all the way through the trapdoor. This thing, the shadow reminded her of Alastor whenever he melted into the shadows just to rematerialize somewhere else.

“Al, are you alright?”

The shadows drew in on themselves and Charlie stopped in her tracks.

Charlie crouched down as if she was interacting with a scared animal. “It’s okay, I’m here to help,” she said, but the shadow grew smaller, its edges slowly fading out of existence, and Charlie felt absolutely helpless. Tears pricked her eyes and she fell to her knees, crawling closer in a last-ditch attempt to get to him before he was gone again.

“Charlie are you in there?” Vaggie’s voice called from below and Alastor’s shadow retreated further.

“Shit,” Charlie cursed, inching closer and closer until she would be able to reach into the shadow. It was more corporal than it looked from afar, a pitch black mass, a void in time and space. Static buzzed in her ears and for a brief moment she was taken aback at what she was seeing.

“Charlie!” Vaggie yelled again.

The shadow in front of her moved again and in a worried daze, Charlie reached out and simply grabbed it. The radio screeched again, a cacophony of voices telling her to let go, screaming, demanding, begging.

There was something soft underneath her fingers, something that felt like fabric and Charlie clamped her hand around it and tugged. The shadow vanished, taking the static and broadcasting screams with it, leaving behind the body of the Radio Demon.

“Al,” Charlie breathed relived and her gaze wandered down his face until it landed on the deep gash going from one end of his chest to the other side of his hip. It was still oozing blood.

“Alastor!” Charlie cried out, hands trembling as she lifted them to cover her mouth in shock.

Remembering that her girlfriend was outside looking for her, Charlie yelled her name. The despair in her voice had surely alerted Vaggie that something was wrong, because she came storming in with her angelic spear raised to fight only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw her kneeling next to an unconscious Alastor.

“Vaggie, he’s still alive. You need to get help!” Tears were streaming down her face unbidden and Charlie had her hands wrapped around Alastor’s as if she feared that he would leave them again.

Vaggie opened her mouth, but Charlie’s desperate ‘Please!’ made her turn around in an instant and jump out through the trapdoor.  Charlie could see her fly towards the hotel through one of the windows and Charlie was glad that her girlfriend had recognized the urgency.

Charlie turned back to the injured friend at her feet and cursed herself for her inaction. The wound was still bleeding, she had to staunch the blood flow! Charlie shrugged off her jacket and pressed it to the wound. To her surprise, Alastor tensed beneath her, groaning in pain, face contorting to a grimace. This must have been the first time Charlie saw the Radio Demon have something other than a smile on his face. Charlie was truly terrified for him now.

It couldn’t have taken Vaggie too long to reach the hotel, but seconds turned to minutes and in the quiet, the moments stretched on for hours as Charlie silently begged Alastor to hold on.

The blood had soaked through the red fabric of her jacket, turning it a darker shade of red (almost like Alastor’s coat, Charlie noted dully) when she heard two pairs of footsteps and Vaggie’s voice from below before her head appeared over the edge of the trapdoor.

She was closely followed by Lucifer and Charlie cried with relief because he could fix this. He would!

“Charlie—” her dad said, approaching her hesitantly, but Charlie cut him off.

“Help dad, he needs your help, please! Al’s hurt, he’s—” Charlie cut herself off, unable to finish the sentence. Her shoulders shook as she fought the sobs threatening to take over control. She had to keep it together, damnit!

Lucifer had crouched down next to her and gently lifted her hand pressing down on the wound. “Let me see, sweetie.”

Charlie complied, her hand coming back bloody and shaking. She felt sick.

Lucifer lifted the blood-soaked jacket off Alastor’s chest and Vaggie stepped closer to peer over Charlie’s shoulder. Lucifer hissed when he spied the damage. “This was done by a holy weapon.”

“But it’s been days since the fight and we searched the place, he wasn’t here. Why wasn’t he here?” Charlie asked confused.

“Doesn’t matter,” Vaggie said curtly, “we found him, so we can fix him and then you can ask him why he thought hiding from us was a smart idea.”

“Right,” Charlie nodded with determination and then her stance faltered and she searched her father’s face. “We can fix this, right?”

Lucifer avoided meeting her gaze, lips pressed into a tight line. “It’s an old wound. I… will do my best,” he said and tried to smile reassuringly in Charlie’s direction. She mirrored it, less forced but none of them really felt it.

Lucifer adjusted his stance and gathered Alastor up bridal style, carrying him out of his radio tower. Once outside, he and Vaggie unraveled their wings and Lucifer took flight.

Vaggie held her hand out towards Charlie, but when her girlfriend simply stared at it, she said: “Unless you’d rather walk?”

That seemed to break Charlie out of her own thoughts and she looked at Vaggie with bright eyes. “No! I mean, are you sure you can carry another person? You only have one pair of wings…”

Vaggie smiled. “Only one way to find out.”

⛧

Charlie could tell that by the time Vaggie reached the entrance of the hotel that she was exhausted. Once her feet were securely on the ground Charlie adjusted her hold on Vaggie’s arm, making sure that she made it into the hotel lobby without tripping over her own feet.

The sight that greeted them in the lobby was somber. Lucifer was bend over one of the couches and Alastor’s long legs were visible as they dangled over the armrest. His torn suit jacket was thrown over the back of the couch. Niffty was rounding circles around the place, carrying bandages and wet cloths, sweeping and wiping down the lobby until it was beyond sparkling clean.

Husk was watching from afar with a drink in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face. Angel was on the sofa facing the whole spectacle watching with wide eyes.

Charlie helped Vaggie sit down next to Angel, before she made her way over to her father and her injured friend.

“How is he?” she asked softly, worried to disturb Alastor in some way. She peered over Lucifer’s shoulder, hands clasped in front of her chest. Lucifer had removed Alastor’s coat and unbuttoned the red shirt underneath to have easier access to the wound itself. Charlie’s knees buckled from the sight, her stomach dropped and she felt like she might throw up. Up close, now that all the layers of clothing had been removed and the wound was in full view it looked so much worse than Charlie had feared.

A clean cut, slashed diagonally across Alastor’s chest and it went deep. Charlie had averted her eyes in an instant, but she was sure she had seen one of his ribs poking out from between all the blood and flesh.

“It’s…” Lucifer sighed, fingertips glowing as they hovered above the wound, “a bit worse than I originally thought, heh.”

Charlie gasped and her shaking hands moved to cover her mouth. Her shoulders curled inward as she flicked her gaze from Lucifer to Alastor’s face, whose eyes were closed and mouth open slightly in a simple line, none of the familiar curl of his smile present. Charlie’s next breath hitched as she feared that she would never see Alastor smile again.

“But I should be able to help speed up the healing process after I stitch him back up,” Lucifer tried to assure her, “he’ll be as good as new!”

“Are you sure?” Charlie asked doubtful.

“Ha! I’m the king of Hell, sweetie, there is nothing I can’t do!”

Charlie smiled tightly just as Niffty jumped onto the armrest where Alastor’s head laid propped up on a pillow, a first aid kit clutched in her tiny hands. She had a wide, toothy smile stretched across her face, a crude mimicry of Alastor’s usual expression. Her eye was flicking widely between the three people in front of her. “You have to fix him,” she demanded. Her smile began to wobble as she stared intently at Lucifer. “There’s needle and thread in there,” she said and pushed the first aid kit further in their direction. “You have to fix him.”

Charlie took the kit from her trembling arms. “Thank you Niffty!”

The little demon laid down on the armrest, curling in on herself and burying her face and hands into Alastor’s hair, little sobs shaking her body. Charlie stretched her hand out in her direction, unsure if she should comfort Niffty or ask her to leave when Husk stepped up and pulled her from the armrest.

“Hey, Niff, you need to give them space to work. Why don’t we go outside and start clearing out all the rubble that is still lying around, hm? What do you think?”

Niffty had dug her fingers into Husk’s fur and buried her face in his chest. She was nodding weakly.

“Alright,” Husk said softly and carried her through the lobby until they left the building together. Angel Dust excused himself and followed them out.

Charlie offered the first aid kit to Lucifer but he just waved her off. “I’ve got it covered,” he said with a smirk and the space between his hands began to glow until a golden thread on a needle appeared in his hands. It shimmered and emitted its own subtle light. It looked ethereal and Charlie couldn’t help but stare in wonder.

“He was hit with an angelic weapon and those things usually leave a bit of energy behind,” Lucifer explained while he started to slowly and meticulously sew the wound together. “The initial hit is the worst and seeing that he survived that, he should recover eventually. The angelic energy should fade over the following days. The only thing we’d have to worry about then is keeping the wound clear of any infection.” Lucifer grinned and then added with a forced chuckle, “The good thing about heavenly wounds is that the holy energy doesn’t allow for any impurities to settle. So, no matter in what filthy hole he had hid all these days, an infection would not have killed him.”

This didn’t seem to cheer Charlie up at all so the awkward smile on Lucifer’s face morphed into a frown and he leaned closer over Alastor’s wound to tie the suture off and the needle and rest of the thread dissolved into the air.

“That’s all,” Lucifer announced, “just gotta clean all the blood off and bandage the area and then… we wait.”

Charlie stood up straight her eyes bright, “Yeah I can do that!” She hurried off further into the hotel, presumable where the beginnings of the kitchen lay, before Lucifer could call her back.

“You don’t have to…” but the rest of the words died on his tongue.

Vaggie came up from behind. “Let her do this one thing,” she said. “She already feels guilty for Sir Pentious death and now this,” she gestured to the prone form of the Radio Demon, “she needs to do this to ease her guilt or it will eat her alive.”

Lucifer nodded in understanding just as Charlie reappeared with a fresh bowl of warm water and clean towels. She kneeled down next to the couch and placed the bowl onto the floor before she dipped the cloth into it and gently began wiping all the blood from Alastor’s pale torso.

Lucifer stood to the side, feeling like he had to intervene, but then Vaggie placed a hand on his shoulder and said in Charlie’s direction, although it was clearly meant for Lucifer: “I think we should check if we can find something to replace the torn button-down shirt. Something more comfortable.”

Charlie briefly glanced up from her work and nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

⛧

A lot of personal items had either been destroyed or lost during the battle and because they hadn’t expected Alastor to show up again, no one had really bothered trying to replace his wardrobe, especially because no one could really tell what he wore apart from that pinstriped suit.

“Any of you have anything Alastor could borrow?” Vaggie had asked the group as they were clearing the main path of debris and rubble, “like a night shirt or something. Can’t really put that bloodied mess of a shirt back on him.”

“Unless he magically grows another pair of arms and wouldn’t mind waking up all dolled up in something pink, I’ll have to pass,” Angel shrugged and put his weight on the shovel in his hand. “Besides,” Angel angled his head and pointed at Lucifer, “can’t you just magic something up? Being the King of Hell and all.”

Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly. “Sure, I could probably conjure something up.”

“So what’s the problem?” Husk interjected.

Lucifer’s normally pale face reddened. “I-I have a hard time making things look… plain.”

“Pff who cares. Alastor is unconscious and by the time he wakes up you’ll have figured something out,” he replied and then turned around to help Niffty lift a rather big piece of wall off the ground.

Angel shrugged. “He’s got a point.”

“I don’t know.” Lucifer wringed his hands, looking down at his feet.

Vaggie smiled encouragingly. “As long as it’s conformable.”

Lucifer sighed and parted his hands making the air between them shimmer until something solid appeared in his grasp.

Angel bowed over, laughing. “Oh that’s amazing!” he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “I need to see Al in this!”

Lucifer tightened his grip on the soft silky fabric in his hands. He had tried to model it after what he saw Alastor wear; something simple, something red, but instead he had created a night shirt with a bunch of ducks on it. Lucifer loved it. The deep red as a background color worked wonderfully to contrast the squeaky yellow ducks. But he couldn’t offer this for Alastor. What would Charlie think of him? He was trying to mend the broken relationship between them, Charlie would surely think he’d do something to embarrass the Radio Demon on purpose.

Well, he would, technically. But now was not the right time for this.

“I think it’s fine,” Vaggie said and interrupted his train of thoughts. “I’m pretty sure Alastor would rather wear something embarrassing than wake up half naked.” She took the shirt from his hands and slowly walked back to the hotel. Lucifer followed a step behind.

Charlie was just finishing bandaging Alastor up when Vaggie and Lucifer walked through the big glass doors. Charlie looked up at them and Lucifer lowered his gaze, afraid of how she will react when she sees what hideous piece of clothing they’d brought.

“Here,” Vaggie unfolded the shirt and showed it her girlfriend.

Charlie squeaked with surprise. “Oh that’s cute!”

“Yeah, we couldn’t find anything appropriate so I had to conjure something up but…” Lucifer grimaced and rubbed the side of his neck, “I tried to make it look simple but heh, yeah…”

Charlie laughed, brushing Lucifer’s concern aside. “That’s so sweet of you! I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Yeah, until he wakes up and goes for my throat.

⛧

Alastor was still sleeping soundly by the time dinner rolled around. Niffty was curled around his head, fingers tangled in his hair. Charlie felt like she wasn’t doing enough to help her friend. She kept stealing glances in his direction more often than she was eating. Vaggie, of course, had noticed this pretty early on but no matter what she did, she couldn’t animate Charlie to eat more.

“I think we should move him somewhere else,” she said, picking at her food and staring intently at the scene a few feet away from her.

“Move where? We already gave him the comfiest couch in the whole building,” Angel complained across from her.

Charlie moved her gaze down, biting down on her lip and then flickered a hesitant glance to her father. “You said you had enough rooms at the palace, right?”

Lucifer almost dropped his fork. “Yeah, I did.”

Charlie wrung her hands beneath the table. “Well, I think we’d all could benefit from a little break,” she ventured, “with real beds, heating and no permanent dust clinging to every surface. And this place is simply not ideal to recover from a severe injury such as Al’s.”

Once Charlie stopped speaking, all eyes turned to Lucifer who kept staring at Charlie as if she had grown another head.

“Dad?”

Lucifer blinked his eyes back into focus. “Yes, of course!” He jumped up from his chair, bumping into the table, straightening his hat and grabbing his cane. “I’ll make sure the rooms are ready right away. I’ll send someone to pick you up.” And with that, the King of Hell disappeared in a shimmer of red.

“And who was going to ask us?” Husk grumbled.

Vaggie shot him an annoyed look. “Weren’t you just complaining last night, how the couches here were too uncomfortable to sleep on?”

Husk grumbled and Angel leaned closer, sliding an hand over his. “Don’t worry kitty, we can share a bed, if you’re afraid of big ol’ Lucifer and his rubber ducks. I’ll protect you.”

Husk pushed him away with a snarl. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I’m sorry guys,” Charlie said awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d be opposed to the idea. You can stay here if that’s what you prefer.”

“And give up on a perfectly comfortable bed? No, thank you. I could use a break,” Angel said with a sly smile and then pointed behind him in Alastor’s vague direction, “besides, if he’s too tall to fit on the couch, what do you think I had to do every night to get comfortable?”

Charlie didn’t feel reassured by Angel’s words but she nodded nonetheless. “Then it’s settled.” She clapped her hands and rose from her chair. “I’m sure dad will send someone over soon, so better get packing!”

Nobody rose from their places except for Vaggie, who put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go get our stuff ready. Why don’t you go and wake Niffty, make sure she knows what’s up.”

Vaggie’s smile was small but encouraging and Charlie felt her heart swell with love once again. Charlie knew that she could count on her girlfriend and she could count on her in return. Now that the biggest secret between them had been revealed, Charlie was certain that there was nothing that could tear them apart.

Charlie smiled gratefully. “Thank you!” She didn’t wait to see if the rest would follow their lead and simply walked past the table into the darker parts of the lobby, where Niffty was currently sleeping still curled up at Alastor’s head the way she was when she first slid onto the couch. One could almost think that Alastor was simply sleeping as well. His face was relaxed and his chest was falling and rising in a steady rhythm under the woolen blanket. But that picture in front of Charlie was so unlike Alastor, it troubled her nonetheless.

Charlie crouched down next to Niffty and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly as she whispered her name. The little demon shot up with a crazed expression on her face until her big eye settled onto Charlie.

“Hey, Niff,” Charlie greeted her and moved her hand from her shoulder to place it on the armrest instead. “We decided to take a break from all the cleaning and constructing. We’ll be staying at my dad’s, so that we can all rest properly and so that Alastor can fully recover. What do you think?”

“If Alastor goes than I will go too,” Niffty agreed and Charlie knew from the start that that would be the way to win her over.

She smiled. “Great! If you have things you want to take with you I’d suggest packing them now. We could be leaving any minute now.”

Niffty looked down at Alastor, one of her hands was still buried in his hair. She was worried, Charlie guessed.

“I can stay with him until you come back,” she offered and Niffty nodded and released Alastor from her grip. She jumped off from the armrest and pattered away.

Charlie sighed and slid down the side of the couch until she sat leaning against it, facing her friend. It’s been a long day—a long week, and Charlie tried to pull herself together for Alastor’s sake, but sitting here alone with him in the darkness of the hotel lobby, it all came crashing down on her.

She tried to blink the tears away, but they had a mind of their own, so all Charlie could do was to wipe them away with the sleeve of her jacket as they rolled traitorously down her face. She sniveled and hugged her legs and put her chin on her knees, trying to calm herself by watching Alastor breathe. It was proof of him being alive and her dad had assured her that he would survive, but the guilt still ate at her.

She had known something had been wrong when he had disappeared in the middle of the battle. Charlie should have looked harder, should have followed every melody and every shadow until she had him back. But after one quick sweep of the hotel’s perimeter, she had given up instead. Charlie felt like she had betrayed him and now look at him!

⛧

Oh, Lucifer didn’t like this at all!

He was pacing back and forth in the foyer of the palace, waiting for his daughter and her friends’ arrival. He had sent a chauffeur their way once he had assigned the few demons still working under him to prepare the bedrooms and now all he could do was wait. Pace.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and—the sound of a motor stopped him in his tracks and he peered through on of the little windows in the doors to see if he had been mistaken, but no. The chauffeur was back and with him his guests.

Lucifer plastered on a grin and opened the doors with flourish. “Welcome!”

Charlie was leading the group with Vaggie by her side and she beamed at him when their eyes met. Angel was behind them, carrying the Radio Demon in his arms who had been wrapped up in a blanket to ward off the evening chill. Husk was at the end of the little group, looking as grumpy as he always did. Lucifer kept smiling until something red whizzed past him and he jumped in surprise.

“Niffty!” Charlie exclaimed, but by the time she had reached the front steps, the little demon had long since disappeared down one of the many halls leading away from the foyer.

“Ha, not trouble,” Lucifer said with a nervous chuckle, “I’m sure she’ll find her way around.”

Lucifer showed them all to their rooms, all located in the same hallway and by the time Angel had placed Alastor in his room, Niffty was back by his side, cuddling up to his side like a cat.

“I have prepared an extra room in this hallway for you, if you don’t want to return to your old bedroom,” Lucifer said and showed Charlie to another door, looking anywhere but at her.

“Oh, thank you!” Charlie strolled past him in order to examine the room. It was like any other in this hallway. A bed, a dresser and a small table to sit at. Lucifer hoped she wouldn’t take him up on the offer, but to his disappointment Charlie nodded. “I’ll prefer to be close to Al, at least until he recovers. I want to make sure I can be there for him if he needs anything.”

“Sure thing,” Lucifer smiled despite himself and excused himself, wishing them a good night.

Lucifer left the hallway, strode down another few until he finally arrived at the royal quarters. On his way to his room it took him by Charlie’s old bedroom and he stopped in front of the door, leaning his forehead against the wood.

Lucifer ground his teeth in agitation. His daughter would rather be closer to them than to him and—

No, Lucifer reminded himself. It was perfect understandable. Her friend was hurt and she wanted to be there for him. That was a perfectly reasonable reaction. Lucifer had offered the bedroom after all. He had no one but himself to blame.

He sighed, banging his head once against the door and caught himself before he could do it a second time. Lucifer couldn’t stand the Radio Demon, but he had been by his daughter’s side when Lucifer hadn’t been and maybe it was just fair to give him a chance to prove himself useful. He was very clearly dear to Charlie and for her sake, he should try to get along with the sinner, no matter how much distaste he had for him.

⛧

Two more days was all it took for Alastor to gain consciousness again.

His head was buzzing like radio static, his mouth felt dry and the skin on his chest was tight as he breathed. He curled his fingers, claws catching on something soft, tearing through it like flesh. He groaned when a deeper inhale caused the pain on his chest to tighten significantly. He put a hand on it and more questions arose when he felt something soft and silky under his fingers.

Where was he?

Alastor tried to open his eyes, but wherever he was, it was too dimm to make out any details before his eyes adjusted accordingly. One thing he knew for certain was, that he had been placed in a comfortable and spacious bed. He knew for a fact someone had placed him there, because his last memory had been of his Radio Tower where he had molten into the shadows to hide from a prying Charlie.

Had he been unsuccessful?

His injury throbbed mercilessly and Alastor hissed through clenched teeth as he tried to right himself. Something crawled over his legs and Alastor tensed, trying but failing to coil the shadows around himself. Something dropped to the floor and after a soft click a lamp on the nightstand to the right of him turned on, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

Niffty crawled back onto the bed, wrapping her tiny arms around his arm in a hug and beaming up at him. “You’re awake!” she squealed, burying her head into the crook of his neck.

“Niffty?” Alastor croaked, throat as dry as sandpaper that sent him into a humiliating coughing fit. The muscles in his body tensed and the wound burned from the strain.

Niffty was watching him with her big eye. When Alastor regained his composure, she patted his arm and then scurried off through the door right across the bed. Alastor watched her disappear with a pained frown, his smile almost dropping as a bout of nausea rolled over him when he tried to push himself upright again.

Once he had seated himself against the headboard, Alastor took a moment to asses his surroundings. Seeing as Niffty appeared to be able to roam free wherever he was, he suspected that he had not been captured by one of his many enemies.

The room he was in bore a lot of resemblance to the Hazbin Hotel, but that was far from likely. Alastor knew the hotel had been torn apart and destroyed to its very foundation, although he had been hiding in his radio tower by the time Adam had unleashed his full force in response to Lucifer’s appearance, he’d seen enough of the aftermath to know that nothing of the hotel remained.

So he was somewhere else.

When Alastor inspected the more finer details of his surroundings, it dawned on him. There was too much apple and golden snake imagery to be anything else than something belonging to the King of Hell himself.

Alastor growled and fisted his hands into the sheets and was delighted when he felt them rip beneath his claws. His lips curled up in a snarl, eyes flicking through the room, expecting Lucifer to stand in a corner, smiling slyly. But he wasn’t.

Alastor looked down on himself when another painful twinge of his wound made him curl inwards and his mind haltered as he stared at the shirt he was wearing. This was quite ridiculous. Alastor chuckled. Any doubts he might have had about his current predicament dissolved. The horrendous yellow ducks on his nightshirt glared at him mockingly.

The door opened again, ripping him from his thoughts. Niffty zipped to his bedside with a golden tray in her hands. She placed it on the nightstand and poured a glass of water from the pitcher and offered it to Alastor.

“Thank you, dear,” Alastor whispered to keep from coughing again and took the glass from her with a grateful incline of his head.

Niffty was the only demon in Hell, apart from Rosie perhaps, that he trusted enough not to take advantage of his weakened state. And the little demon was fiercely protective and rather adamant to stay in control, so there was little chance of someone else having intercepted his drink, so Alastor felt fairly safe taking the offered water.

“I’m so happy you’re awake, Alastor!” Niffty exclaimed and jumped onto the bed, watching with rapt attention as the Radio Demon sipped at his glass of water. “Charlie was crying and Lucifer said it was really bad! He stitched you up, but there was so much blood on the sofa and on your coat! There was so much blood before I washed it,” Niffty rushed to explain, sliding from the bed again to rush of to the dresser and climbing onto it to open the highest drawer, pulling out Alastor’s pinstriped coat. She rushed back onto the bed with the article of clothing in hand as she told him: “I tried to repair it, because I know you love your coat, but the cut was so big! I don’t think I did well.”

Alastor reached for his coat and ran a finger over the new stitch. It had been sewn by hand; not as even as one would manage by machine, but still small and placed with careful precision.

“Well, I think you did wonderfully!”

His coat was ruined, until Alastor could regain enough of his power to mend it, but Niffty had done all she could do to fix it on her own and he would not hold it against her.

Especially not when he needed something more dignifying to wear.

“Niffty, dear, do tell, have you managed to salvage any of my other belongings, particularly some of my clothes? I fear I can not show my face wearing such childish attire,” he sneered and picket at one of the many ducks on his nightshirt for emphasis.

Niffty shook her head. “Sorry sir, there was barely anything left after the battle, but I have your shoes and pants if that is enough. Lucifer said your shirt was gross and threw it away. I don’t think I could have gotten the blood off of it.”

Alastor’s lips curled in distaste. Lucifer had taken advantage of his inability to act and had stripped him of his dignity by putting these ridiculous clothes on him for all the Hotel to see, while pretending to care. He was playing a game and Alastor had to tread carefully now, if he wanted to win.

He let Niffty bring him his meager belongings as he carefully got out of bed. Of course the horrendous duck pattern extended all the way down to the pants they had dared to put onto him. Alastor bared his teeth, wishing he could gut whatever unfortunate soul did this to him.

Alastor changed as quickly as he could all the while trying to ease the pain on his chest. Putting his shoes back on, proved to be significantly more difficult and he bit his tongue to keep any sound from passing his lips as he bent down to tie the laces. He would have usually used a bit of his magic to do such task, but there was a terrifying sort of emptiness where it normally rested. Alastor had overexerted himself clearly and if he wanted to keep up appearances, he shouldn’t waste what meager magic he had left for such unimportant tasks.

Alastor brushed a hand over his chest, feeling the thick layer of bandages around his torso, before pulling on his coat over the nightshirt, hoping to hide most of the ducks. The result was just mildly satisfactory.

There was a sudden knock on the door, much to Alastor’s displeasure but he let’s none of it show when he permits them to enter, turning around to face his visitor with a welcoming smile.

Charlie peeked her head through the door. “Alastor!” Then her eyes widened upon seeing him out of bed. She stepped fully into the room, not bothering to close the door behind her. “You should be resting!”

“Why, I’m quite well, my dear!” Alastor said with flourish and his characteristic radio voice, although it took him significantly more conscious effort to do so, now that his main source of power had been damaged during the fight. “Thanks to you, I assume?”

Charlie clasped her hands in front of her body, averting her eyes as she laughed nervously. “I found you, but dad did most of the…” she motioned vaguely at his chest, “fixing.”

“Ah, I’ll be sure to thank him then,” Alastor said, intending to stride past her.

Charlie stepped in his way and Alastor raised an eyebrow, vaguely amused.

“You should really rest! Dad said that there was still a good amount of angelic energy left which could impact—”

“Ah,” Alastor cut her off with a wave of his hand, “I told you I feel fine, my dear. Your concern is appreciated, but clearly unwarranted.”

Charlie opened her mouth to disagree, but Alastor shut her off before she could say anything. “Why don’t you show me around a bit? I’m terribly interest in where you have taken me.”

“Oh, sure,” Charlie said hesitantly but then something exciting must have crossed her mind. Her face lit up with a smile and she gestured Alastor to follow her. Niffty, who had been quietly sitting on the bed, whizzed past them, saying something about clearing the garden of bugs, before she disappeared behind a corner.

⛧

Alastor noted with mild interest that Charlie kept the tour through the palace rather quick and clip, stammering occasionally when topics got too personal. Alastor followed her idly, only listening with half an ear, just enough to find his way around the place, not that he was intending on staying.

“And here’s where we spent most of our time,” Charlie concluded the tour, holding the door open for him.

He entered a room with big ceilings, a tall fireplace on one side with a plush sofa and two armchairs around it in a semicircle with a low coffee-table made out of rich, dark wood in the center. On the other side of the room, Angel and Husk were playing a game of cards, sitting at a table of similar style and both of them turned to look at him when his deliberate step onto the hardwood flooring echoed through the room.

Husk’s sour expression did wonders to elevate Alastor’s mood. He strode over to them, wishing once again he could have his cane to lean on, when the torn muscles in his chest spasmed painfully. Husk watched him apprehensively and Alastor’s smile broadened.

“What’s with the long face, Husker? Don’t tell me you were worried about me,” Alastor chuckled.

Husk rolled his eyes and groaned. “Oh, fuck off!”

“Now, now, is that how you greet a friend?” Alastor chided.

“Yeah, right, friend,” Husk snarled, “and I shit rainbows an’ glitter.”

Alastor’s smile curled, but before he could antagonize dear Husker further, he heard Charlie step closer, Alastor decided he had no patience to listen to one of her lessons on ‘respecting co-workers’ again, so he stepped back and made a show of surveying the room.

“You sure, you should be up and around, Smiles? ‘Cause you almost spilled your guts on the sofa and let me tell you, we thought for a hot sec’ that you wouldn’t make it,” Angel stated, swinging his legs onto the table and leaning back in his chair until it balanced dangerously on two legs.

“I’m fine, just like I have told dear Charlie here, this was nothing more than a scratch.”

Angel stared at him blanky. He turned around with a muttered ‘right’ and sipped from his drink, turning back to the game.

“You’ve got a wonderful home, my dear,” Alastor turned to face Charlie again and the princess returned the smile. Unfortunately for Alastor, he noticed the approaching sound of footsteps a tad too late and he had not time to excuse himself politely, before Lucifer entered the room, bend over a stack of papers in his hands.

“Have you decided on what flooring you want, yet? Or wallpaper? They’ve got so many options is ridiculous,” Lucifer commented, before he picked up on the fact that someone new was in his presence. Lucifer’s gaze shot up, landing straight on Alastor and the Radio Demon gave his most charmingly cold smile.

Lucifer’s eyes slid down to Alastor’s chest and then back up again, as if he was afraid to be caught staring. Alastor was painfully reminded of the little ducks still peeking through and he promised himself to pay him back for this once his powers had been regenerated enough.

“I didn’t think you’d wake up yet,” Lucifer said and his expression seemed genuine.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “Why, is that so?”

Lucifer waved his hand in the general direction of Alastor’s wound, just like dear Charlie had done. How endearing.

“It’s still buzzing with a lot of holy energy. So much it’s making my head spin, which is quite odd,” Lucifer trailed off, having his stare once again fixed on the area where Alastor had been slashed open.

Having had enough of the constant fussing and staring for today, Alastor spun around, striding past Hell’s royalty and excusing himself.

“But we’ll be having lunch in half an hour!” Charlie called after him. Alastor declined.

⛧

Alastor was a thorn in Lucifer’s side. That demon had woken up far sooner than Lucifer had anticipated, based on the severity of the wound and then had agreed to stay for the duration of the break to everyone’s delight. Except for his and that bartender demon. But Lucifer had promised his daughter to be by her side and if that meant, sharing his palace with that creep for another few days, so be it.

Today was the first day back at the construction site and Alastor had seemed genuinely surprised how much they had managed to rebuild so soon after the battle.

“It’s rather spacious, isn’t it?” Alastor had commented when they had shown him the interior.

Charlie had bounced on her feet with excitement. “We’re hoping that more sinners will be interest once we reopen. In fact, we’ve already had a few requests from interested demons. Isn’t that awesome!”

“It surely is,” Alastor replied and the smile on his face made Lucifer’s blood boil.

Days passed and they made incredible progress. With Alastor and his weird shadowy creatures on their team everything moved far more swiftly and the grand reopening of the Hazbin Hotel came ever closer.

Alastor had been quite good at avoiding Lucifer, but it didn’t stop the King of Hell from noticing that the Radio Demo’s condition was not improving even slightly. There was still too much holy energy festering in the wound and as long as that was the case, it would not heal, and there was nothing Lucifer could really do to help. The lethality of angelic steel was unmatched.

It was on the day when the doors of the hotel were open once again, that Charlie came to him, with so much worry on her face that Lucifer had been ready to drop everything he was currently doing (tinkering in his little workshop) and give her his whole undivided attention.

“It’s Alastor,” she confessed and it took all of Lucifer’s willpower not to groan. “I think he’s still hurting.”

“I’ve noticed,” Lucifer admitted.

Charlie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Then why hasn’t he said anything?”

Lucifer shrugged indifferently. “The same reason he didn’t ask for help in the first place, I assume.”

Charlie sighed, “Shouldn’t it be about healed by now?”

“With the amount of holy energy radiating off him? No,” Lucifer said casually, before the words clicked. Oh no.

Charlie gasped. “Shouldn’t it have faded away by now? You said it would!”

Lucifer winced. He hadn’t meant to let that particular information slip. Charlie had too much to worry as it was and now that they had their first sinners check in, she couldn’t afford to worry about someone as self-reliant and stubborn as that creepy Radio Demon.

“And it’s not, for some unfathomable reason.”

“Can’t you talk to him? Maybe you could convince him to see the wound again? Maybe there’s something wrong and only you could help.”

Lucifer rubbed his face. “Charlie, you know that Alastor and I… we don’t get along well—”

“You have to try!” Charlie pleaded, almost dropping to her knees.

Lucifer shot to his feet, grabbing her hands before she could do something as ridiculous as this, calming her down. “Woah, okay, sweetie, I’ll talk to him! But no promises that he’ll actually listen.”

Charlie wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you!”

Lucifer patted her back, feeling a bit out of his element. There was no way Alastor would listen.

⛧

The Radio Demon shooed him away like an annoying little insect.

“I already told dear Charlie, that she has nothing to worry about. The injury was grave and therefore will need more time to heal, it’s that simple.”

Lucifer ground his teeth, holding back an angry snarl. There were currently in one of the many hallways of the hotel. Lucifer had been on his way to the Radio Demon’s room only to end up running into him half way. “I’m sure it didn’t escape your notice that there is still enough holy energy in your wound to seriously affect your oh so powerful demonic overlord abilities.”

Alastor growled and the shadow behind him grew. The two tuffs of hair on his head twitched and Lucifer had the shocking realization that those were his ears. “As I have stated time and time again: I am fine.”

Alastor’s voice buzzed with static to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Lucifer could almost taste the power on his tongue, a numbing, dizzying feeling, accompanied by the bitter taste of holy energy.

Lucifer took an unconscious step back and shrugged. “If you say so.” He turned and left the hallway. He’d done what Charlie had asked of him and if that creep was so keen on dying, then Lucifer had no trouble letting it happen.

Lucifer found his daughter sitting at the bar, talking to the bartender with a notepad between them, writing furiously down whatever they were discussing. As Lucifer neared them, he caught the last bit of what Charlie was saying, before she noticed him.

“Well, that’s a bit concerning. I’ll make sure to discuss this during our next session on good behavior. Oh hi, dad!” She greeted him with a big smile.

Lucifer smiled and sat down on the stool next to her. “Hello, sweetie. How are you doing?” He tried to glance at the paper in front of her, but Charlie had already packet it away as if she had been intending to leave.

“Oh, Husk just told me about one of our new guests. He had some…” Charlie cringed, looking for appropriate words, “interesting views on women. I can’t let that slide. If they want to redeem themselves, behavior like this needs to cease.”

“That’s great, Charlie!” Lucifer said, intending to sound supportive until his words clicked, “not the guy’s behavior, obviously,” he corrected with an embarrassed chuckle, “but I’m sure you’ll get these sinners back on the right path!”

Charlie beamed, “Thanks dad! But, is there something you wanted to talk about?” Charlie looked at him with a serious expression and Lucifer scrambled to compose himself. How did she notice?

“It’s about,” Lucifer checked the lounge, making sure no one besides her and Husk were in the general vicinity, “Alastor.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Yep,” Lucifer confirmed, “and as I told you, he doesn’t want my help.”

“But—” Charlie tried, but Lucifer shook his head.

“He said he was fine.”

“Bullshit,” Husk grumbled from the other side of the bar, wiping down the counter.

Charlie took that to mean that Husk was on her side in this argument, although when it had become one, Lucifer couldn’t pinpoint. He raised his hands defensively at Charlie’s pointed look. “I’m not denying that he’s hurt, but I can’t offer him help, when he doesn’t want it.”

Charlie lowered her gaze. “I know, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Lucifer reassured her, “you’re worried about your… colleague and that is understandable, considering the circumstances.” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, attempting a comforting gesture, but ultimately retracting his hand once he couldn’t figure out what to do next.

“I’ll be up in my workshop, if you need me,” he excused himself, unable to keep her company. This situation was slowly growing too much for him to handle. If Lucifer could have fixed Alastor with a snap of his fingers he would have done so the second Charlie found him in his ruined radio tower, just to end her suffering. But wounds from angelic weapons were tricky even for angels themselves. They were invented to inflict the most harm possible, affecting their victims long past the initial blow, by keeping the wound from closing too soon and disturbing any use of non-holy power.

⛧

Niffty put the tray onto the floor and knocked on the door to Alastor’s room. No one answered and Niffty frowned. She knew that Alastor didn’t often miss out on meals and that whenever he did, he always appreciated when Niffty brought something up for him when everyone else settled down in their rooms. He always welcomed her in.

Soft Jazz was playing on the other side of the door and Niffty contemplated knocking again when there was a sudden screech, a scraping sound and when it stopped the music didn’t return. Niffty didn’t like the sound of it. She stretched to reach the doorknob and turned it slowly, letting the door crack open, so she could peer inside. The lamp on his nightstand was the only source of light in the room, as Alastor laid, curled up on top of his bed. His back was to the door, so if he was awake he hadn’t noticed the little demon.

Niffty grabbed the tray with todays dinner and walked into the room, climbing up a chair to place it on the table across the bed. Startled by the noise, the Radio Demon shot up into a sitting position, staring with wide eyes to the source of the noise.

“I brought you dinner,” Niffty explained, jumping down from the chair and scurrying towards the bed.

“Thank you, Niffty,” Alastor replied with a smile.

Niffty climbed onto the bed, staring at Alastor with her single eye. His heavy but shallow breaths didn’t go unnoticed, not the blood speckled handkerchief clutched in his hand.

“You’re sick,” Niffty stated.

Alastor smiled and shook his head, “It’s nothing,” he said but then his breath hitched and his body curled forward, shoulders shaking as he coughed into his handkerchief. Niffty crawled closer, eye wide with fear. When the coughing fit eased, Alastor took a shuddering breath and eased the hand from his mouth. The white cloth came back speckled with new drops of blood. He looked at it, smile wavering from his face.

“Alastor,” Niffty whispered and the demon’s attention snapped back to his visitor. “You’re hurt.”

“Nothing I can’t handle, don’t worry dear.” Alastor smiled, but the flecks of blood on his teeth—his own blood—did nothing to reassure Niffty.

Niffty watched him for a second longer, until that soft jazzy music started to play once again. “Okay,” she replied and slid from the bed, leaving the room and closing the door on her way out.

This was not okay, Niffty decided as she looked down the hallway, standing a few steps from Alastor’s door. Niffty never did anything that she hadn’t gotten permission for to do. Alastor will be angry when he finds out what Niffty is about to do. Niffty doesn’t want Alastor to become angry.

But if Alastor dies, she’ll be alone again. Niffty doesn't want to be alone again.

⛧

Lucifer was too engrossed in his work to notice the rapid knocking on his door to his workshop, until something whizzed past him. Lucifer turned in his chair, startled and looked at the open door.

“Mister Lucifer!” a small voice called his name and Lucifer jumped in his seat, turning back around to find Niffty standing on his worktable.

“Eh, hello?”

Niffty surged forward and grabbed the lapels of his suit, pulling him closer. “You need to fix Alastor!” she demanded and Lucifer blinked in surprise.

Lucifer gently pried her hands of his suit and leaned back to keep some distance from her. “He doesn’t want my help,” he tried, but Niffty shook her head violently.

“But he is hurting bad!”

“Yes, I know,” Lucifer said, but it was as if Niffty wasn’t hearing him.

“He is coughing up blood!”

Lucifer’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, that is bad.” And unexpected.

“So you’ll help him?” Niffty asked, shaking so much with anticipation she was practically vibrating.

Lucifer sighed. “Niffty. I told you, he doesn’t want my help. And I can’t exactly force him.”

“I will!” Niffty exclaimed eagerly, jumping up and down on the table, shaking the table and Lucifer had to reach out and catch the container of paint brushes, before could fall over the edge.

“You will… force him?” Lucifer asked, not convinced.

The little demon nodded and jumped down from the table, grabbing the fabric of Lucifer’s slacks, pulling him out of the room.

“Woah! You want to go now?”

“Well, he is dying now!”

“Alright!” Lucifer pried her little fingers of his pants. “But I can walk myself.”

Lucifer followed the little maid demon all the way to Alastor’s room, which was thankfully all the way on the other side of the hotel. When they reached his door, Niffty pressed her head against the wood and listened.

“He’s awake,” she told him and then place her index finger to her lips before she slipped into the room.

Lucifer waited in the dimly lit hallway, swaying on the balls of his feet, tapping his fingers on his thighs. It was eerily quiet and Lucifer wondered if Alastor was sick enough to not fight them. That was until he heard him growl, the radio effect on his voice building until it was nothing Lucifer could recognize. The walls shook and Niffty shrieked.

Lucifer tensed, ready to jump into the room to safe Niffty from the angry maws of the Radio Demon. The door slammed open and the little demon scrambled out of the room. Shadows slithered out of the shadows, crawling up the walls and a static hiss sent Niffty crawling up Lucifer’s coat and hiding underneath his hat.

“He’s very angry,” Niffty whispered into his ear and Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“You don’t say.”

The Radio Demon emerged from the shadows of his room, three times his normal size, antlers scraping against the ceiling, body hunched over to fit into the hallway. He was towering over Lucifer and even though he knew that Alastor was no match for him, he couldn’t help but shudder when Alastor’s glowing radio dial eyes fell on him.

“Uh, hello?” Lucifer smiled, waving his hand stiffly. “How are you feeling?”

“I told you to leave me alone!” Alastor snarled, the words barely distinguishable through all the buzzing and whirring.

Lucifer chuckled. “Yeah, about that…”

Steps echoed through the hallway followed by voices, one of them Charlie’s and Lucifer cursed. Fortunately, the Radio Demon had his eyes solely set on Lucifer and he either didn’t notice the approaching group or simply decided to ignore them.

“I don’t need your assistance!”

“Alastor!” Charlie appeared in the hallway, followed by her friends and Alastor’s attention ultimately snapped to them.

“Charlie no!” Lucifer yelled and placed himself in between his daughter and the violent overlord.

Shadowy tentacles emerged from Alastor’s back, coiling through the space between them and Lucifer pushed the group back.

“What’s going!” the bartender cried out behind them and one of the tentacles lashed out at Lucifer. He swatted it away easily. He could finish the fight before it even started, but Lucifer would rather not risk the newly rebuilt hotel.

“Just a little misunderstanding, right Al?” Lucifer laughed but instead of diffusing the situation, he angered the Radio Demon more.

Alastor lashed out again, digging his claws into the floor and ripping the carpet into strips. Lucifer used a bit of force to push him back a few feet when Alastor pounced at him and the demon landed on his back. Niffty gasped, still holding on to his coat and Charlie called his name in distress.

Alastor rolled onto his side, growling as he pushed himself up to his feet, still towering menacingly over Lucifer, smile incredibly wide, teeth sharp and threateningly on display, but then his next step faltered and the Radio Demon grabbed his chest, smile straining. The shadows retreated and his form shrunk as he gasped for air, claws tearing into his suit, flaying through the layers like paper until he was drawing blood, ripping through Lucifer’s neatly sewn suture.

Charlie raced past him, reaching out towards Alastor, but the demon simply smacked her hands away from him, while he scrambled towards his room, ears pinned back and eyes comically wide.

Niffty jumped from his shoulders, running towards Alastor and this time the Radio Demon was either too weak to fight back or simply accepting her touch.

Lucifer was torn out of stupor by Charlie’s outcry. She had fallen to her knees, hands clamped over her mouth as she watched the scene in front of her unfold. Vaggie had run to her side, trying to comfort her but being equally dazed.

Lucifer walked over where Alastor had sunken to the floor with Niffty hovering by his side, deciding that the Radio Demon was not a threat anymore.

The demon was writhing on the floor, clawing his chest open, gasping for air. His breath rattled, sounding wet and labored. His lips and teeth where stained red from his own blood and Lucifer had a sudden revelation at what must have been going on all along.

He almost considered letting him die, he’s certainly resisted any sort of helping hand before, but when his daughter’s loud sobs reached his ears, he knew he never really had a choice.

Lucifer rolled up his sleeves and nudged Niffty aside as he kneeled down next to Alastor. The demon sent him a hateful look. Lucifer leaned closer. “I’m doing this for Charlie, so get your shit together and let me safe your life,” he snarled.

Alastor narrowed his eyes, but then his face contorted with pain and he let his head fall back when he screwed his eyes shut, lips pulled into something barely resembling a smile.

Lucifer pulled Alastor’s claws out of his chest, inspecting the damage. With a simple thought of his, the golden thread, that had ben partially ripped apart by Alastor himself, vanished and the flesh parted all the way, looking as fresh as it had the day Charlie had found him in his radio tower.

Lucifer braced himself, his left hand shimmered as it traced over the open wound and then, without warning, he plunged it right in, pushing Alastor’s ribs apart until they snapped out of place.

Alastor’s back arched of the floor and if he had any air left in his lungs he would have screamed until he tore his throat bloody. Alastor’s claws tore into Lucifer’s arm and Niffty was on his other side, screaming at him in distress, until Husk pulled her away.

“What are you doing!” she cried, trashing in Husk’s grasp.

Lucifer tuned her out and growled agitated, prying Alastor’s claws out of his arm with his free hand, before he leaned forward and sent the overlord’s consciousness into the darkness of his own mind. His head lolled to the side and all the tension in his body left him suddenly.

Not that he had nothing fighting him anymore, Lucifer concentrated a bit of his power in his fingertips which were buried deep in the Radio Demon’s chest cavity. Lucifer closed his eyes and felt for the power signature of angelic steel. His powers brushed against the foreign object and he gently moved his hand to retrieve it from the lung it had pierced. The little piece of steel must have broken off when he was hit and slowly wandered all the way until it caused too much damage to ignore. He held his breath as he pulled his hand out of Alastor’s torso, careful not to inflict any more cuts made with angelic steel. The wound would be a bitch to heal as it was.

He let the piece of metal fall to the floor, choking on his next breath as the overwhelming smell of iron and copper filled his sense, making him gag. One of his arms was coated with the sinner’s blood up to the elbow and now that he wasn’t rummaging around in his ribcage, the warm and sticky fluid coating his skin made him visibly recoil, the feeling of it dripping down his arm made him shudder and almost gag again. He forced his breathing to even out and magicked the gore away from his body, before manifesting the golden thread and needle into his hands and stitching the ungrateful ass up again.

Someone shifted behind him and soft steps alerted him to someone standing over him. “What did you pull out?” Angel asked.

“A piece of angelic steel,” Lucifer answered, not looking up from his work.

“Holy shit! He’s been walking around with that thing still stuck in his wound?”

“That’s why the wound refused to heal!” Vaggie said behind him, presumably still holding Charlie in her hands.

“Will he get better now?” Niffty sniveled.

“Yes,” Lucifer spoke softly, tying of the suture and leaning back once he was finished.

The little maid demon raced to Alastor’s side, holding his face in her hands with a frown on her face. “He tore his coat again,” she said and somehow it sounded like an accusation.

Angel stepped up to her, crouching down so he could tap her shoulder. “Hey Niff, why don’t you go and grab some cleaning supplies, before all the blood has a chance to soak into the floor. Lucifer caused quite a mess here and we don’t want the other hotel residence to see this, don’t you agree?”

Niffty nodded vigorously, jumping to her feet and disappearing in the darkened hallways with a pitter-patter of small footsteps.

“Let’s get him cleaned up and in his room,” Angel proposed and everyone got moving.

⛧

Alastor had enough of waking up disoriented. Only this time it was his own bed he’d woken up in. A small mercy. The bedside table lamp was on and someone had turned the radio on to play soft jazz and for the first time in weeks, Alastor didn’t feel like he was on the brink of death. His mouth was still tasting moderately of his own blood, but his breath came easier. Alastor relaxed in his bed.

His wound twinged and he placed a hand on his chest to sooth the pain, when he got the alarming sense of déjà vu. Alastor tore the blanket from his body, looking down in horror and seething anger at the duck-patterned sleepwear. Alastor growled and tore the clothes from his body, reveling in the sound of ripping fabric. He should have burned them as soon as he took them off the first time.

He climbed out of bed, still a bit wobbly on his feet and threw the torn pieces into the fireplace, watching as the flames licked at the little ducks before the silk caught fire. It burned slowly, too slowly for Alastor’s taste. He scrunched his nose as the smell of burning hair wafted from the fireplace.

“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

Alastor turned around, startled until he found Lucifer leaning against the bedpost, one eyebrow raised questionably. He felt entirely too exposed for the confrontation, only wearing boxershorts and a thick layer of bandages around his chest. Alastor’s ears pinned back and he growled.

“Get out!”

Lucifer shrugged. “Sure. I simply wanted to take a look at the wound. Check if it’s healing properly, but you seem to be busy right now.” Lucifer turned around, but stopped at the door.

Alastor watched him with murder in his eyes and lips stretched into a grimace.

The King of Hell looked over his shoulder, grinning. “Cute tail by the way.”

Before Alastor could rip the smug grin from his face, Lucifer disappeared in a puff of red smoke. The Radio Demon crossed his hands over his chest, as if he could hide his humiliation behind the action. He dug his claws into the skin of his arms, making new scars amidst the old ones littering his skin and turned back around to watch the flames eat away at the rest of the ridiculous sleepwear.

Before anyone else could intrude on his privacy, Alastor dug around through his dresser to find something appropriate to wear only to find his options severely limited. He settled for a dark red button-down and a pair of black slacks, before exhaustion made him settle down on the armchair at the fireplace.

The radio still hummed a tune and with a flick of his finger he turned the volume up a notch so he could drown out his own thoughts.

Alastor traced absently a line where he knew the wound ran and shuddered when he remembered how Lucifer’s hand had buried itself deep into his chest. The lanky fingers wiggling around his ribs, splitting them apart and retrieving the little piece of angelic steel that had slowly made the Radio Demon choke on his own blood. Alastor clenched his hand, piercing holes into his new shirt. His smile wavered and the flames became a blurred sea of orange and red.

A traitorous tear escaped his grasp, rolling down his face before he wiped it away with a shaky hand.

He had only himself to blame for his predicament.

Alastor bowed, touching his head to his knees. He reveled in the throbbing pain such motion brought. A smile split his face apart.

How could have he fallen so far?

He straightened his posture, his shadow smiling wickedly from the wall closest to him.

“Just a minor setback,” Alastor growled, gathering the strength to summon his microphone for the first time since he was hurt. His powers spluttered, switching through different radio stations before the two broken halves manifested in his hand.

“This will not be where this ends.”