Chapter Text
♫
The last week had been… Harrowing, to say the least. The Extermination had been personal- deeply personal- and while no one at the Hotel had fallen, the line of angelic spears stabbed into the ground outside with demon heads proudly spelling out YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER (Vaggie had noted that was such a waste of spears) had made the message clear. This was going to continue and next time they wouldn’t be so lucky.
Charlie didn’t know when the next would come- back to a year or another six months or another week. She had paced, relentlessly, as the Hotel put itself back in order and those who had been injured licked their wounds. Husk, in particular, had survived a scuffle with Adam, himself, and while he didn’t appreciate the warm embrace he got for his bravery, she didn’t know how else to thank him aside from maybe a very expensive bottle of booze at Angel’s suggestion, which he did like and seemed to like even more when she told him it had been Angel’s idea.
That should have been something she lit on! Something that she could really sink her teeth into and do something about! Were Angel and Husk an item? Was there unspoken tension? What would that do for Angel’s suitability to Heaven? Surely, a stable, monogamous relationship could only-
But no. She’d let that thought slide out of her mind with barely more than a hum, never mind a full number about it. Her mind had to be on the Hotel and protecting it and only that. She couldn’t even do a lesson plan in these conditions! Activities had ground to a halt in favor of ‘work together to clean up the corpses.’ If she didn't get a moment to actually get back to the work she enjoyed doing, she was going to scream or bite or… or something.
Vaggie helped. She always did. The initial shock of learning about her being an angel had passed and while there had been some distance in the month leading up to the Extermination, Vaggie’s dedication to her remained absolute and she had nearly gotten herself killed multiple times to make up for what she felt were her sins in the past.
”Demons kill each other and that’s just how it is,” she’d said when Charlie told her that no one in the Hotel, save herself, was fully clean of demon blood.”They aren’t killing because they think everyone here deserves to die. It’s different.”
So that was still sort of a whole unresolved thing too, and that was just before her father kicked the door in, ready to throw down because he had one rule when his hand was forced about the Extermination and that was not putting his family in direct harm. Getting him to do more than fume and fuss over it had occupied a lot of time she didn’t actually have, but the end result had led her here… Back to Heaven.
With her father.
Outside the golden gates, he stood ramrod straight, fingers clenched so tightly around the head of his cane she was certain his fingers would grip right to the core. She glanced at his shaking hands and laid her own over them. “Dad, it’s okay.”
“I haven’t been back to Heaven in… Oooh.” He whistled. “Awhile. It’s…” He tugged his collar. “Not actually full of great memories, y’know, sweetie?” He leaned over to whisper. “Maybe we should just go back down and work on this on a lower level. I know some phenomenal wards. You think that dusty radio guy has moves? Your dad has better moves. I invented some of those runes he uses. My wards- pristine.”
She wrinkled her nose and pulled him closer to the front desk. “Daaaad, come on. It’ll be fine. I think things will actually work out this time if you’re here.”
“Really? ‘Cause I feel like they’re gonna go much worse.” As if to prove it, the second the pair strode towards the desk, St. Peter nearly flung the guestbook to reach for something underneath it. Charlie had to lunge to stop his hand from hitting a button with a very familiar runic symbol on it- fuck, they had a Lucifer button.
“Wait wait wait! He’s not- we’re not- here to cause any trouble. We just need to talk to Sera- or Emily. Actually, I’d rather talk to Emily, if it’s… all the same.” She shot him a winning smile.
Behind her, Lucifer was making what could only be described as a ‘stink face.’ “This is going greeeeat. Are you sure about this, Charlie? It’s not too late to go back.”
“Dad!”
“Charlie!” A winged shape suddenly burst free of the Gates and wrapped tight arms around her middle. Unable to resist, Charlie wrapped her arms around the gray-clad form as well and spun her around in excited circles.
“Emily!”
“Oh my Heavens, Charlie, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Emily pulled away to grip Charlie’s hands so tightly that it was a pleasant kind of crushing. Like a weighted blanket. She leaned forward to whisper, “I’ve been doing all I can. There are angels who truly believe this isn’t right. Sera has told me to give it up, that doubting leads to Falling, because-“
Both girls looked askance at Lucifer, fiddling with the head of his cane awkwardly, that vapid look he got when he was overwhelmed making it clear that he’d stopped paying attention.
Charlie, for the first time daring to doubt, whispered back in a nervous high-pitched lilt, “Iiiis it bad that I brought him here?”
“No! I… I don’t think.” Emily frowned. “I should warn Sera, of course.” She stepped back and approached Lucifer, who flinched like he was about to be scolded- oh dad how badly did the angels hurt you. “Greetings, Morningstar,” she said, bowing a bit. “It is an honor to meet you. I was only a fledgling when you Fell.”
“For the record, I didn’t Fall. I was pushed.” Lucifer, seeing Emily’s own flinch, immediately softened and underneath all the anxiety, Charlie caught a glimpse of the angel her father had been once as he ducked his head and accepted her greeting graciously and with the genteel quality of true nobility. “Thank you for being courteous about this. Tell the High Seraph that we won’t take up any of her time. We… have a deal to renegotiate. It seems Adam’s legions have forgotten what we agreed long ago.”
Emily bobbed her head with a grin and slipped through a portal, leaving St. Peter to anxiously open the Gates without his usual aplomb. Charlie strolled through and Lucifer, feeling somewhat more confident after seeing how Emily treated him, tapped the poor angel’s desk with his cane. “Keep up the good work, Pete.”
The promenade was still full of people dancing about in a joyous display of virtue and peace, but now looking at it, all she saw were people who had somehow gotten lucky. She tried to find a commonality in any of them, something that she could take back and use to prove her point, but there didn’t seem to be a single thing these people had that hers didn’t… besides, you know, the fixation on sin and murder. And, honestly, some of them might have that too, hidden under the surface. Look at Adam.
“Heyyyy, Short Stack! How’s it goin’?”
Speak of the fucking prick.
Every fiber of Charlie’s body reached for Hellfire and only her father’s iron-tight grip on her shoulder kept her from exploding in a rush of demonic energy. Her horns appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye and she focused on deep, healing breaths as Adam, the walking canker sore, swaggered up to them on the promenade.
“They’ll let anyone in here these days, huh?” Adam planted his hands on his hips and grinned. Behind him, Lute bristled.
“Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you. Hah!” Lucifer barked. All that anxiety he’d worn outside had been cast aside like an old coat- something about Adam had struck the same nerve that Alastor had only in a different key. A beat, and then: “No seriously, how did you get in here? I was there, remember. You also ate the apple. It was a, uh, whole thing, actually.”
“Yeah, but I did it second.” He shifted his mask enough for him to reach into his ear with his pinky to dislodge a bit of wax and flick it across the golden streets, exposing a strong chin, gray skin, and a quick suggestion of facial hair before he slipped it back into place. “That counts for something.”
Still disappointed by the angels’ wishy-washy answer about how precisely one gets into Heaven and with the proof that there wasn’t some actual code to follow right before her eyes, Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and fought the urge to scowl. Scowling gives you lines that make your smiles less effective. Everyone knew that.
“How’s the wifey, by the by, Lucy? Still smokin’?” Adam slammed a hand into a fist and crowed with vicious delight. “Oh wait. I forgot. You two are hella divorced, amirite?”
“We are not divorced.” Lucifer began to panic, whipping to Charlie like he expected her to believe any of that shit, all while pointing at his wedding ring. There was something in his eyes that spoke volumes about the truth of what was going on with him and Lilith that she would have to unpack later- she hadn’t asked before. It was too painful to bring up. “We- we’re on a break. Yeah, a break. Just a break.” He swallowed, leaned on his cane, and adjusted his stance to square up to the angel before him. “Which is more than I can say for you and yours. How is Eve, by the way? Oh waaaait! She’s in Hell. With me. Just like your first wife. Hah. Man, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say one of us knows how to treat a woman.” Another pause. He leaned into Adam’s space and whispered. “It’s me.”
Adam’s ghoulish face screwed up in disgust. “Yeah, okay, pal, you just drink your ‘respect women’-” are the air quotes necessary? really?, “- juice. You can use it to gargle after you lick my balls.”
“Adam,” Sera’s voice said, coarsely, snapping him to attention with a mumbled aw fuck mom’s home.
She hovered as glorious as ever with her six wings, towering over Lucifer as she landed between him and Adam, shunting him out of her space and into Lute’s. Charlie and Emily both shot him sour looks and held hands in solidarity as they watched the fallen Morningstar engage with the High Seraph for the first time in millenniums.
The seconds ticked on in agonizing awkward silence. Lucifer’s throat bobbed. “High Seraph.”
“Morningstar,” Sera murmured, politely, her shoulders tense. Another long moment of silence followed- clearly she was waiting for Lucifer to explain himself. Charlie’s palms started to sweat, but not Emily’s. Angels apparently didn’t sweat. Her grip alone, however, spoke to her anxiety matching Charlie’s.
Lucifer’s jaw trembled and he finally, finally yanked himself together again. “Maybe we can talk about this somewhere more private? The street is… Open.”
Indeed, they were starting to attract attention. People might not recognize Lucifer on sight these days, but that apple and snake motif was sort of painfully obvious when you thought about it for a moment. Sera gave a nod and circled her fingers in the air to open another portal. “Certainly. Come into my office.”
Adam started to follow and Lucifer thrust his cane to stop him. “No, no. Not you. Seraphs only.”
Adam snarled and lowered the staff. “Your piece of hellsnatch daughter ain’t a seraph, Little Man.”
Charlie saw her father’s eyes light up with a fire she only saw when he had to be in a room with Alastor. “What did you say about my daughter?”
“Dad.”
“You want me to say it louder? Or do you want me to moan it, Daddy?” Adam leered.
“That’s enough!” Emily snapped before Sera could, her small form crowding into Adam’s space, all of her angelic eyes open and glowering daggers at the lesser angel. He shrank back. “There will be no more disrespect in this room. Adam, this concerns you, so you will be allowed entry, but please keep your mouth shut.”
Charlie felt her heart squish as Emily brushed off her dress and then strolled through the portal, nose primly in the air. Sera, lips pressed together, only gave a sober nod and followed.
“How come he-“ Adam snarled, but Lute gripped his arm and pushed him into the portal.
“Pick your battles, sir.”
“I wanna pick this one,” he whined as he vanished into the Seraph’s study. Lucifer and Charlie lingered for a moment- one with hope in her heart and the other rapidly descending into the pit of despair after just seconds of glorious, if not damning and futile, wrath. She reached for his hand.
“C’mon, dad. You got this.”
The soft smile melted her heart even more than Emily’s protection had. He stood on his toes to pull her into an embrace and give her a kiss on the head- more to comfort himself than her, she was sure, but she didn’t mind. He hopped through the portal and she followed into an austerely decorated space. Painfully minimalist. Ooh this was not a side of Heaven she liked at all. There wasn’t even art on the walls. Just gray slate with a huge plate-glass window behind the bare desk. Not a single knickknack to distract from its function.
Sera slid into the seat behind the desk, while Emily stood at attention next to her, hands clasped in front of her, eyes still fixed on Adam, daring him to speak. He skulked in the background, intentionally toying with the boring book-laden shelves- also free of knickknacks and personal touches- by running his fingers on the spines or pulling them out and pretending to read them before tossing them at Lute to put back with a bored eyeroll.
Conjured chairs were produced for Lucifer and Charlie, which they took, gladly. With everyone who was going to settle having done so, Sera sighed.
“Let’s talk, Lucifer. What brings you back to Heaven? You were told to never come back.”
“I’m aware…” He drawled, scratching his neck. He was getting nervous again, twitchy. Charlie reached for his hand again and she swore she caught a soft smile from Emily at the display. “But… Things have changed. When the Exterminations began, you were told not to harm the Hellborn and this chode-“ he jerked a hand behind him, flashing his teeth, while Adam very casually tried to stealthily flip him off behind an open book, “-has come dangerously close to doing just that.”
“Yeah, ‘cause she put herself in my way.” Adam snapped the book closed and tossed it over Lute’s head. She caught it without even looking at it and reshelved it. He swaggered past the two Morningstars to lean against Sera’s desk. “If she lays down with the dogs, then Daddy Dearest doesn’t have a leg to stand on when she ends up dying like one.”
A low growl came from deep within her father’s throat, crushed down by the effort of keeping his teeth clenched. “She’s trying to help.”
“And what do you think, Lucifer?” Sera ignored Adam- much to his chagrin- and kept her gaze on Lucifer solely, as if she was worried what would happen the second she took her eyes off of him. “Do you agree with your daughter that the Sinners are worth saving?”
“Oh, um… Weeellll…” Another tug on his collar. “I, uh… I believe in her! Yeah!” He hugged Charlie tight against his side, crushing her against the armrest of her chair. “If she believes in it, then I support her.”
“That’s not the same thing.” Sera sighed and stood, pacing to the window that overlooked all of Heaven. The perpetual pale dawn cast light on her that made the silver freckles on her dark skin shimmer like diamonds. “Let me be frank- your involvement in this task concerns me. Do you not understand how it looks for you to be involved in Sinners ascending to Heaven? Sinners who are loyal to you? Who have been influenced by your hand in this?”
Lucifer flinched and slumped back into his chair- here, then, was where Charlie rose to the occasion for him. “You don’t know him- you never did.”
“I know that he is proud.” The High Seraph’s eyes crushed closed.
Emily, seeing a losing battle being fought, rushed to turn the tides the way she couldn't before. “Maybe that’s the problem. Lucifer is out of touch with his people. He doesn’t see them the way Charlie does. If he believed in them, if he cast his pride aside and put himself among them, then perhaps…” She trailed off, looking for Charlie to pick up where she left off.
She did, gladly. “Yes! If Dad comes to work in the hotel as one of the staff, instead of as Lucifer, himself, then he’ll be able to see it all firsthand. He can learn to see them the way Mom and I see them.”
Adam blew a raspberry, while Lucifer fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “Yyeah… That’s an option, sweetheart, but I-“
“But you would still be King of Hell.” Sera turned to face them again. “That influence cannot be denied.”
Another flinch. “Not where I was going with that, but… sure.”
“Then what if he sealed his powers to be on par with the Sinners?” Emily offered. “If Lucifer can’t solve every problem that the hotel has with his angelic powers, then how can you claim he has any real influence? It could be a lesson in humility.”
“Iiii would argue the last several decades of my life have been a lesson in humility but-“ Charlie pressed a finger to her father’s lips to silence him before he tripped and screwed up the one thing that might actually get them somewhere. They were running out of options.
“That’s a great idea! If Dad can keep his powers sealed and help the Sinners the way I do, then it’s clear he believes in them just as much!”
“Wait. Waitwaitwait,” Adam spat, floundering for purchase on the situation and coming up empty. “So you’re gonna cancel my all-seasons pass to murder ‘cause Lucifer’s willin’ to castrate himself for your hug fest? Seriously?”
“It is a remarkable show of faith in the system,” Sera mused, looking to Emily’s hopeful face.
Lucifer looked uncertain, but one sideways glance at Charlie’s pleading face and he sighed and threw his head back against the chair. “What the Hell? It’d be like a vacation, right? A vacation where I have to work, but what’s a hotel compared to all of Hell? Heh. Oh boy…” Another tug on his collar, another anxious laugh, but no contradictions, no argument. If she didn’t know how messed up he was, she would have found his willingness to show his belly to be an excellent show of humility, actually.
But he’d done that before and that was what got them into this mess. Now maybe it would get them out of it.
Adam slammed his hand on the desk. “I call bullshit! The second things get hairy, he’s gonna break the seal and take it all back.”
“Then the arrangement will be null and void,” Sera said, flatly. “I will give you one more year to present souls- multiple souls- as viable candidates for re-judgment. If before that year is up, Lucifer reclaims his power for any reason, the exterminations will begin again, immediately. I can’t risk anything else at this point. Not after everything that has happened. I hope you’ll understand.”
It felt anticlimactic in the most blissful way imaginable. Charlie could stand for a few more incidents to come to a close with such ease. The part of her that still regretted needing her father for it was all that stood between her and leaping for joy at the opportunity she’d been presented… But her father, liberated from his power, allowed to simply be, and be with her? That was the ice cream with the cake when you looked at it from that angle. How had she gotten so lucky to win with a scheme that was so unlikely to produce nothing but good results after so much disaster? Things were finally coming up Morningstar.
She looked to Emily who was bouncing in place, her skirts flouncing. She gave a very excited little shake of her clenched fists and Charlie had to fight not to rush over and hug her again. She had promised she would figure something out and she had. There were people up here she could trust.
There were also people here she couldn’t. Adam scowled at her, the deadlights of his mask burning with a white-hot incandescent fury. “He’ll fuck it up. He always does. Don’t you, Pussifer?”
Lucifer stood, face contorted into a disgusted grimace like Adam was a slug he’d almost stepped on barefooted. “We’ll see.”
He sucked in a breath and threads of bright gold began to weave around him. His wings appeared, bright and shining and then began to evaporate into gold mist churning around him and coalescing into a shape in his hand that started out orb-like and then began to warp- a body, a head, a beak, a little tail. When the light faded, Lucifer collapsed against the chair like the wind had just been knocked out of him and clasped in his hands was an ivory-colored rubber duck with Lucifer’s arcane symbol carved onto its side in blood-red runes.
Charlie knelt beside him as he cracked one tired eye open, letting out a low teakettle whistle. “That was not fun. Ohhh fuck, I feel like I went six rounds with your Aunt Bee in a drinking contest.” He held up the duck and Charlie reverently took it into her arms, cradling it against her chest, while her father tried to recover from the shock to his system that had been.
Sera dismissed them without another word, eager to be rid of them, though Emily walked them all the way to the portal and gave Charlie that long-awaited second hug and even shook Lucifer’s hands in both of hers without fear or shame.
“I know you can do this,” she whispered.
There was something about hearing an angel put any amount of faith in him that made Lucifer’s eyes immediately start to well up. Charlie gingerly pushed him through the portal and into the safety of her bedroom at the hotel before he could start weeping into Emily's hair.
No sooner had the portal closed, she immediately fell upon her father and dragged him into an impromptu dance around the room. “WHOO-HOO! WE DID IT! We fucking did it! A whole year to fix this! A whole year to not have to worry about Adam and his stupid fucking face! A whole year to- Oh… Oh. Wait.” She dropped her father’s hands, stepping back. “If your powers are sealed, that means-“
“That I’m not capable of ruling Hell?” He adjusted his tie. “Trust me, sweetie, I….” He deflated, “…thought of that.”
“And you did it anyway?”
He pinched his nose. “It’s fine. I’ll call the other Sins- they’ll just write it off as another one of my ‘phases’ and keep this out of the papers for me.”
Charlie bit her lip. “If anyone knew-“
“- we would have more than angel problems, I know. Trust me, Charlie, I know, but…” He paused, sighed, and gripped her shoulder. “Your mother has wanted me to do something like this the moment we started getting overwhelmed by Sinners and the Exterminations started. And I just… couldn’t do it. I didn’t see the point. So she did it, instead, while I… hid. And if this is what it takes to see this world the way you and she always saw it, the way I never could… Then okay. Whatever it takes.”
Charlie looked down at the duck in her hands. “No one outside of the hotel and Heaven can know about this. Just… Tell the sins you’re on a sabbatical. Or what you told me- that you’re finally trying to see things from Mom’s perspective.”
“That would convince Ozzie… and if Ozzie believes it, all of them will. He’s got pull.” A sigh, an exhale, and another squeeze of her shoulders. “And maybe…”
“Maybe it’ll get Mom to actually come home?” She asked, hopefully. Lucifer’s expression softened.
“Read my mind.” He kissed her head, pulled back, and slapped his hands together. His enthusiasm was a muted form of her own, far too exuberant and tight and awkward- the picture of someone who had never had to regulate himself because of years of living alone. “Okay! Enough of that! Let’s go tell the hotel the good news and I can… Get settled.” He looked at the room. “Is this the presidential suite?”
“Dad,” she said, gently chastising.
“You’re right. I’m humble now. Whatever you have available is… fine.” His voice cracked a bit on fine. She didn’t blame him- for all that perhaps depression and grief had laid him low, he was still royal and therefore had certain expectations that being average was going to fuck with. She’d get him there. It would be good for him. It would be good for all of them.
This was going to work.
“News first, then we’ll get you settled in.” She steered him towards the door with a spring in her step and hope for the first time in a long time that couldn’t be tarnished by anything.
♠
Things were too quiet.
Husk liked quiet, absolutely loved the moments where there was no one shouting or panicking or screaming; loved the absence of radio static, more than anything. He hated this quiet, though. It was the quiet that came after the storm when everyone was staring at the wreckage that was once their lives and mourning the shift that had occurred and how nothing would be the same again.
The hotel was standing, repaired and free of corpses, but the memory remained. More than that, the shadow of another storm lingered on the fringes, the thunder quiet now, but at any moment, he knew he’d start to hear the roll of it. The kind of thunder that sounded like the furious beating of a hundred-odd wings.
His own wing twinged- healed up after a week of lowered activity after being broken in three places from his confrontation with Adam, but still aching. If he ever had the chance, he hoped he could return the favor and take Lute’s wings off. Let her see the world from Vaggie’s perspective- maybe it’d get the stick out of her ass. Or maybe Hell would eat her alive and pick its teeth with her bones. He knew which option he’d prefer and it was rarely the earnest and forgiving one.
Speaking of things that weren’t earnest or forgiving, a patch of shadow in the corner of the parlor twisted and warped into the shape of Alastor. Husk immediately regretted his wish for noise and normalcy.
“Good evening, Husker. I couldn’t help noticing that Charlie doesn’t seem to be in.” He twirled his staff and leaned on it, grin never leaving his face. “I thought I’d find her grieving over those poor nameless fools who got themselves killed to prove a point again, but it seems I was mistaken.”
“She went to Heaven with her pops,” Husk said, idly wiping the inside of a glass.
A shift of shadow and Alastor was suddenly right across from him, perched on a barstool. “Did she now?”
This being typical behavior, he didn't even pause in his work. “Yeah. She did. What’s it to you?”
“I keep you here to report things back to me that I’m not around for.”
“And I just reported it.”
“Initiative, Husk.” Alastor reached into the dark abyssal plane where his chains were kept and yanked. Husk’s chin hit the bartop and the glass shattered on impact with the ground when it slipped from his hands.
The second he could, Husk spat a volley of curses that only made Alastor’s smile all the more satisfied. “Fuckin’- I didn’t know where you were! You expect me to chase your ass down every time I got somethin’ interestin’ to say?”
“Yes.” Alastor sat down primly on the barstool and snapped a highball glass filled with top shelf whiskey into existence just to prove a point about how absolutely unnecessary Husk’s presence as a bartender was to him. It was just a station- something for him to do while he was here. His real job was whatever Alastor told him it was.
The Radio Demon swirled the contents, but didn’t drink. Off in the corner, a white-and-red shape was moving closer to the bar in a parody of stealth. Husk caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, growled and threw a card- it missed its mark through Alastor slapping his hand off-course (and that was the only reason), which caused it to leave a scorch mark on the couch when it detonated and took out one of the legs. It dipped, awkwardly, sending a napping Pentious to the floor in a tangle of coils and screaming about being under attack.
So there went the silence. Now that it was fully gone, he longed to have it back.
The thing Husk had almost hit was one of Pentious’s fucking eggs, albeit dressed not in the little suits that Pent favored for his minions, but in one nearly identical to Alastor’s. Husk blinked, looked from it to Alastor, and then narrowed his eyes.
“What the fuck is that?”
“Oh that?” Alastor chuckled. “That one’s gotten attached to me for some reason.”
“And you haven’t killed it yet?” Husk’s left eyebrow reached nearly the tip of his ear.
He just flicked his wrist, like it was nothing. “For now, I find it amusing.”
Of course. Anything that validated his ego in any fashion was worth keeping around until he got bored of it. Husk just rolled his eyes and turned to Pentious, who was trying and failing to not make eye contact with his wayward egg. “And what do you think about all of this, Pent?”
The serpent rose up onto his coils, turning his head away with all the dramatics of an opera diva. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. We certainly don’t know any Franksss.”
“I never said his name,” Husk drawled, uncertain of why he bothered.
Oh but Pentious wasn’t finished. That would be too easy. “Frank sounds like the name of a traitor! My eggs and I do not associate with traitors.”
The other eggs waved at their sibling or… friend or whatever the fuck they were to one another across the room. “Hey, Frank!”
Frank waved back. “Hey guys.”
Pentious hissed, and the grin on Alastor’s face grew that much bigger in the face of his suffering.
Charlie chose that moment to burst into the parlor, arms pinwheeling in excitement, and added to the din with her excitable shouting. Husk rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands, cursing himself for not appreciating the silence while he had it. “Guys! Guys! Holy shit! Dad and I just saved the hotel!”
Husk lowered his hands. The rictus grin on Alastor’s face also lowered incrementally, growing tighter the second that Lucifer entered the room behind his overzealous daughter who had flung herself upon the bartop to perch, her legs kicking excitedly. “Well, sort of. We bought us a whole year before Adam and the Exorcists can come back.”
Huh. That was... something. Husk blinked and shifted his wings, wincing when the left one acted up and hoping the princess didn't notice. Charlie had called for a fancy physical therapist down in Sloth to come up here and give him some pointers to help the healing and he’d ignored every one of them. He’d lived with arthritis up until his death. Why not bring it back around? It wasn’t like he actually did any real flying anyway. “How’d you manage that?”
“Yes, how did you pull that off?” Alastor asked, his voice crackling with a slight underscore of nefarious static as he glanced Lucifer’s way.
Charlie spun an elaborate tale of self-sacrifice and humility that made her father look far better than he probably deserved to look. The mere mention of Lucifer’s angelic powers being sealed had Alastor looking eerily contemplative, his pupils turning to radio dials, and the only one who seemed to notice was Husk himself. It sent a shiver down his spine and made him quickly fumble for the nearest bottle.
Lucifer, having stood in anxious silence, half-listening and in his own little world, only glanced at his daughter (reacting a half step too slow) when she called attention to the fact that he’d be staying in the hotel and helping them. “Huh? Oh. Oh yes.” His own toothy grin twisted upwards, daring to compete with Alastor’s for sheer malice. He sauntered up to the taller demon and gave him a light series of slaps against his chest with the head of his cane like he was violently trying to shoo off a pest. “You won’t be needed anymore. I’ll be taking over as host.”
Alastor looked as if he was deeply considering breaking Lucifer’s hand and seeing just how far this sealed angelic power went. Restraint, however, was the name of his game nine times out of ten and he only took a step back out of touching range, still smiling, waiting for Charlie to make the final call.
“We’re not getting rid of Alastor, Dad,” Charlie said, hopping off the counter. (Alastor’s smile returned to its usual intensity, free of any hate, only smug satisfaction at Lucifer’s suddenly developing eyetwitch.) “He’s done so much already and besides. I already have the perfect job for you that’ll help you get back in touch with your people. You’re going to be our new PR Director!”
“Oh! Ohhhh that sounds-“ Lucifer made an aggrieved sound, “-time-consuming. And deeply, um… Draining?”
“Dad, come on.” Charlie sidled past Alastor to take her father’s hands. Behind, grinning over her head, Alastor looked like he'd become her cruel shadow, his own shadow snaking up the bar to keep eyes on everything Husk was doing- making sure he was paying attention, probably. “I know you’ve been, um… out of touch? For a bit. But even if you’re out of touch with the Sinners, you know all the powerful Hellborn. If you got the Sins to support the Hotel too, we might have a shot at pulling this off. Heaven wants multiple souls, not just Angel, to be ready for judgment in a year and all we have right now besides him is Pentious.”
“Who is making great headway in his redemption!” Pentious crowed. “I haven’t even thought about making war machines in ages!” A beat. “Except for yesterday, but those were anti-angel ballista for the hotel and that hardly counts. Vaggie supported me whole-heartedly.”
“Where is Vaggie, actually?” Charlie asked, glancing around the parlor like her girlfriend might be hiding behind something, waiting to leap out.
“Damage control,” Husk said, simply, which said everything, judging by Charlie’s wince. The first thing that happened when Adam came down for that last extermination was make a very bold announcement about Vaggie’s previous loyalties in the hopes of turning Sinners against the Hotel. It hadn’t exactly worked, but it certainly didn’t do any favors for Vaggie, who was now in a constant state of having to explain herself when she wasn’t getting shit thrown at her in the street. Sometimes literally.
Charlie exhaled. “Speeeaking of damage control… There’s something else. No one outside of the Hotel can know about Dad’s powers being sealed. We have enough bad press. We don't need that kind of press too.”
“Whoa. Lucifer’s powers are sealed?!” The door to the hotel slammed open, revealing Angel, who walked in with a yawn, a limp, and a glance at Lucifer like he expected an absence of angelic power would have made him even sadder. Behind him, a bear-shaped Sinner that Husk didn’t recognize was taking that information in very slowly, but was taking it in.
“For fuck’s sake, Angel, you can’t just bring anyone in here!” He balked.
Alastor, seizing upon an opportunity to let off steam, clenched his fist closed and a black tentacle punched up through the floor and then punched through the massive demon’s torso. He fell down dead in the foyer inches from Angel’s feet, barely missing crushing him under his weight.
“HOLY SHIT!” Angel flailed backwards against the bar. “That was my bodyguard, Al.”
“Well, he wasn’t very good at his job, was he?” Alastor beamed, rocking forwards onto the balls of his feet, his microphone producing a laugh track right on cue. "I'd say I did you a favor."
“What d’you need a bodyguard for?” Husk made Angel his usual without being asked and left the bottle of vodka within arm's reach in case he wanted a little extra. Angel flashed him a grateful smile and a cheeky wink that made his feathers mantle (ow) and he quickly went back to cleaning glasses to avoid looking at him more than he had to.
(Alastor’s eyes- and the eyes of his shadow as well- burned into his skull, watching, calculating. Husk tried to pretend he didn’t notice.)
Angel took his drink, downed it, and then snatched up the bottle. “Val heard about Adam targetin’ me, specifically, and flipped the fuck out. It was the only way I could convince him to let me come back here. His contracts ain’t super tight, but they got a heavy protection clause to make sure nobody fucks with his merchandise.”
“Against everyone but him, right?” Husk growled low. Angel made a noise of exhausted agreement around the lip of the bottle as he sipped from it more slowly.
The cogs were turning in Alastor’s head and their grinding sounded like the squeal of feedback that somehow only Husk could hear. “Well, if Valentino is so gung-ho about keeping you safe and we can’t have vagabonds in the hotel who might tell off on our dearly depowered-“
“-not depowered!” Lucifer protested. “Greatly lessened, but not depowered.”
Alastor ignored him. “Our dearly depowered king, might I suggest Husk here act as your bodyguard.” He tapped his microphone against the bar.
Husk almost dropped another glass. “The fuck, Al? Don’t I have enough to do? I man the front desk, I run the fuckin’ bar. I can’t be shadowin’ Angel too.”
What are you plannin’, you sick fuck? was what he didn’t say. He squinted, trying to find some clue in Alastor’s smile, but he gave nothing away. That was how Husk lost his soul to him- no one had a better poker face than the Radio Demon.
Angel looked scandalized, which was impressive, given some of the shit Husk had heard him say. “Hey, I keep business and the opposite of business separate, okay? I don’t need any of you guys hangin’ out at the studio. Val freaked enough when it was Charlie.” (Charlie winced.)
“But Charlie wasn’t there to provide a vital service,” Alastor shrugged. “I’m sure you two can figure something out.”
“He has a point,” Charlie, ever the Sinners’ advocate, said with a tight, anxious smile. “We really don’t need anyone who isn’t in the program just hanging around here.”
“And I, for one, would rather avoid anyone hired by a Vee hanging around. It sets a bad precedent.” Alastor examined his gloves. “Vox has already tried to bring a spy in here once.” He glanced Pentious’s way and giggled as he slunk back to the opposite side of the broken couch like a scolded puppy.
Angel sighed, exhausted. “Whatever. I’m too tired to argue right now.” He finished the bottle, slammed it down, and stretched his limbs, making a grand show of draping backwards across the bar so Husk had no choice but to pay attention to the way his back arched and popped. “I’m goin’ to bed.”
The scene fell apart there with everyone scattering about to tend to other business. Husk waited five minutes before following Alastor out of the parlor, instead of hanging out to learn to love the quiet again. “What are you plannin’ now, you sick fuck?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Alastor grinned over his shoulder.
“Askin’ me to be Angel’s bodyguard? I ain’t a bodyguard.”
“You aren’t a bartender either, but you’re doing so well at it.” He reached back and pinched his ears. Husk recoiled with a snarl.
“At least tell me the angle, boss. I oughta know what I’m gettin’ into here.”
Alastor hummed. “I just feel a very, very sneaking suspicion that I am going to want someone in Vee Tower that I can trust.”
“That ain’t ominous at all.” Alastor always thought six steps ahead of any plan so if he needed someone in Vee tower, it was because he knew something was going down behind the scenes, and the only way he could know something like that was if- “…Did she put you up to this?”
The Radio Demon froze. The air became heavy with the scent of blood and swamp fen and things more ancient than Husk could fathom, crackling with static that played across his fur. He could see the neon green sigils forming in the air, the slight growth of Alastor’s antlers. And yet when he spoke, it never left its casual lilt. That was how you knew it was a warning. “I thought I told you never to bring her up.”
He felt the collar around his neck- invisible until it wasn’t- tighten and he choked out his immediate apology. The collar loosened and the world returned to normal. Alastor turned on his heels and jammed his microphone up under Husk’s chin to force him to look up, one hand folded behind his back as he bent at the hip closer to Husk's level.
“Don’t question, Husk. Just do what I ask and everything will be right as rain. Understand~?”
Husk nodded as much as he could with the microphone digging into his throat. Alastor pulled it away and tapped him on the head with it in a mockery of a head pat. “Good boy.” He spun on his heels. “Besides! I thought you’d be thanking me. Watching you yearn over that strumpet has been entertaining, but it’s getting a little stale. Why not spice it up a bit?”
Husk’s fur bristled and despite everything, he still screamed “FUCK YOU” down the hall. Alastor just kept walking, cackling the whole way down the hall.
✖
Vaggie entered the hotel two hours later with egg and Hell only knew what in her hair, her expression a dark cloud of anguish. Her only solace was that no one was around to see. Stealth was her faithful servant and she made it all the way up to the room she shared with Charlie to hop in the shower without anyone stopping her and viewing her in all her glory in a state of absolute shit.
She exited an hour later, draped in a fluffy robe, to find Charlie with her hair unbound at the vanity, humming as she brushed her hair out. She caught sight of her partner’s approach in the mirror and spun around to collect her in an embrace. “Hey.”
“Hey, babe.” She kissed her cheek. “Careful. I’ll get you wet.” She paused. “Phrasing.”
Charlie giggled. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you made it back. Husk said you were doing damage control? Again?”
Vaggie groaned and sulked towards the bed. “Husk’s a narc.”
“He’s probably just as worried about you as I am.”
“Doubt it.” Vaggie buried her face in her hands and tried not to think about the events of the day. Mostly it was a lot of things that bordered on being hatecrimes and any attempt she made to prove a point about her being more Hellborn than angel at this point was met with jeers and a lot of ‘go back to Heaven, slut.’ Her existence was driving people away from the Hotel and the fucking Vees weren’t helping. Velvette and Vox saw a potential media circus and spun it out of control. “I swear I could kill that cabron Vox with my bare hands.”
Charlie joined her on the bed and pulled her hands down from her face. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay. Dad and I made a lot of progress with the angels today.”
“Wait. Really?” Vaggie was skeptical, knowing angels and especially knowing how they felt about Lucifer. She listened to Charlie explain the situation, the gears turning. Fuck did she have two Moringstars to protect now? Lucifer wasn’t powerless, but what was a Sinner compared to a seraph? If the Vees found out about this-
The headache started in her empty eye socket and worked its way through the rest of her skull. She sighed and fell against Charlie’s shoulder, allowing her to wrap her up and cuddle her back into some form of peace. “I love this robe,” she said. “You feel like a teddy bear.”
Vaggie snorted. “Better than a koala?”
“Way better.” She kissed her cheek and neck until she started laughing and only then did she pull away to cup her face in her hands. “I think this is going to be what does it, Vaggie. And it’s gonna be really good for Dad too.”
Aside from the second part, all of that had been said before, but every time Charlie said it, Vaggie believed it. More than that, she would kill anyone or anything to make it happen. There had been bumps, setbacks, and general unpleasantness, but her dreams were going to come true or else what was the point of her? She had always been part of something, always serving some higher authority. Charlie had been the light in a sudden darkness and became everything to her in that moment when she found her after Lute tore her eye and wings away and left her for dead. Was it healthy? No. Was it the only way Vaggie knew how to love? Yes.
It worked out. Charlie had barely anyone in her corner- truly in her corner, with no ulterior motives. She needed Vaggie to be focused and intent on her and her dream.
And that meant making sure she wasn’t the weak link in the chain and the reason this Hotel failed. “I just… I don’t know what to do. No one is gonna come here if there’s a fallen Exorcist here, too.”
“I think I might have a plan for that,” Charlie beamed, clutching Vaggie’s hands. “What if Dad goes on Vox’s show and makes a statement about you and the Hotel. If he has your back, maybe everyone else will.”
“Babe, I love your dad. Really. He’s, uh… Great.” Okay, he was a mess, but so was everyone else. The fact that he was a fucking mess was honestly part of why she liked him, actually. Inasmuch as she liked most people who weren't Charlie, but that was the Exorcist in her. “But I don’t know if I want him to make my problems go away. I lied for years about who I was to avoid all of this. It’s on me to make it right.”
Charlie made that face that said she was about to launch into another speech about how yes, it was awful that she lied and yes, she did kill a lot of demons out of hate and malice, but she was different now and that was the whole point of the Hotel. She was as much a success story as Angel- she just needed someone with some real authority people took seriously and who'd similarly been thrown out. Because obviously that wasn’t going to be her- she’d tried. Oh how she’d tried.
To prevent having to go through it again and all the anguish it brought up, Vaggie pressed a finger to her lips and smiled. “He can try, but I’m still gonna keep trying to do it on my own. It’s my atonement, Charlie. No one can do that part for us. Just because you forgave me doesn’t mean everyone else has to. I just… need to figure out how to make it not fuck up everything for you.”
“You’d never fuck up everything for me, Vaggie, because you are everything.”
Another snort. Vaggie wrapped her up in another tight hug. Despite all of her doubts, Charlie always knew the right thing to say, even if it was corny or came with a musical number. “You’re so cheesy, babe.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
☠
Lute did not love this.
Strictly speaking, Lute didn’t love most things. It was sort of part of the job of being a badass Valkyrie bitch- you were disaffected by most things that weren’t murder. If Adam wanted a sycophantic band of harpies, he could turn to his groupies- he wanted hot chicks who fit that ‘strong female character’ criteria in his inner circle of Exorcists.
If Lute had been trained to make judgments like that, she would wonder what exactly it meant for the man to have lost two wives to Lucifer and then immediately get to Heaven and start gathering a cabal of women who would never think to tell him ‘no.’ But she wasn’t, so she didn’t. She just did her fucking job.
Right now her job was in traction. A year of waiting was the norm, but things had changed. There was one dead Exorcist, Sinners having actually landed a hit on Adam himself even if it didn't actually do him harm, the Hazbin Hotel was promising a change to the status quo and the High Seraph was just letting Lucifer take control of the whole operation, declawed or not.
It was enough to put her fist through the nearest wall, but people got annoyed by that and she wasn’t in the mood for a finger-wagging, condescending lecture about her anger.
Instead, she went to her boss, who wouldn’t make her feel better, but at least he’d validate her. She found him in his apartment- a bachelor pad fit for a king and with all the chip bags and dead soldiers you’d expect from someone in the throes of a mental breakdown. He was perched in a beanbag she wasn’t even sure he could get out of again, running riffs on his guitar when she knocked and was told to come in, teeth grit behind the void of his mask.
Adam never took off the mask anymore- he said Heaven wasn’t prepared for how smoking hot he was over everyone else. Only the Exorcists- mainly Lute- saw his true face and only then, just rarely. Today was clearly not one of those rare occasions.
“I can’t believe that fuckin skank and her deadbeat daddy actually pulled it off,” Adam snarled, playing with such fury it was a miracle the strings didn’t pop off. “Ugh. It makes me so pissed.” He tossed the guitar away and crossed his arms over his chest, sulking like a toddler.
Lute stood at attention, heels pressed together, hands behind her back, chin tilted upwards, never indicating for a second that she believed him to be acting childish. Her words implied it. “You look like you’re really working on a plan to counter this, sir”
“Hey, fuck you,” he said, without venom. He awkwardly shifted in the beanbag to grab for a discarded bag that was hemorrhaging Funyuns on the floor. He shoved a handful into his mouth and chewed noisily. “We just need to get Lucifer to unseal his powers and it’s a done deal.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Adam continued to chew, thoughtfully, but nothing seemed to come to mind. Okay. Fine. Lute had an idea. “We need someone who can intercede on our behalf.”
“The only people who can move on Hell between Exterminations without gettin’ Sera’s tits in a twist are the Sinners themselves,” Adam said. He grabbed a Big Gulp from out of nowhere and washed down the chips, only to immediately choke and stumble out of the beanbag, scattering both chips and drink across the floor to add to the sticky mess. Lute took a step back to avoid getting Mountain Dew on her boots. “That’s it! Oh man, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”
Lute squinted. “Are you suggesting we work with demons?”
It took Adam an extraordinary amount of time to extricate himself from the beanbag- she knew it would- and all the while he did it, he was still talking excitedly. “Not for realsies, babe. We could just make somebody an offer they can’t refuse and when the time comes... well.” He sliced an arm across his throat, which didn't help him get on his feet any faster.
He finally managed to free himself and, golden wings mantling with the thrill of some personal feat of brilliance that sent empty wrappers scattering across the floor, stepped up to her to grip her shoulders. Suddenly, there was no sign of the loser who got stuck in beanbag chairs or played acoustic guitar directly at Virtue girls when he was feeling a desperate need for validation, and there was only the deadly grin of the man she served. Those moments were worth every single one of the more frequent moments when he was a complete chode. Not that she’d ever say that. Usually she didn't even think it. She worshiped him too much for that sort of blasphemy to linger.
“There’s gotta be someone down there that hates that fuckin' freakshow Hotel just as much as we do.”