Chapter Text
Niffty hopped to ring what she assumed to be a high-tech, but dilapidated doorbell. “This place needs cleaning. Do you think anyone is here?”
Charlie’s eyes darted from side to side. “I’m not sure. It looks really rundown.”
The bell didn't ring, it crackled — static and snow— and dampened after only a moment. Niffty hopped to ring it again, but the remaining electricity must have been spent on the initial buzz.
“I guess there's no power.” Charlie placed a pale hand on the heavy door, and much to her surprise, it creaked open. She gave Niffty a grim glance, they exchanged a shrug, then they both proceeded inside Vee Tower.
“Hello?” Charlie called out, and it echoed through the vastness of the once vibrant and villainous spire.
“Hello?” Niffty repeated, followed by the pitter patter of her petite feet.
Charlie clutched her bow tie and began to mull over the wisdom of her decision to ask the Vees, or more specifically Vox , for help. She wasn’t afraid of him, especially since he had lost his powers at Alastor’s hand, but encountering him and asking for a favor of all things, would indubitably be awkward at best. They were enemies. In what level of Hell did she think he would do anything for her? The last time she saw him, he had made it unquestionably clear that he hated her and everything she stood for. Yet here she was, snooping through his old headquarters, ready to beg for his assistance.
Her chance of success was abysmal, but he was the only one who had eyes everywhere. His drones and cameras were rolling during the entire clash with Heaven. Somewhere, among countless hours of premium war time footage, was the evidence Charlie so desperately needed.
“It stinks in here.” Niffty wafted stale air away from her face.
Charlie nodded in agreement. The air was heavy with a sour odor, like trash that had been left in the bin far too long. She wondered if someone had been living there, but perhaps a squatter, rather than one of the Vees.
“Hello?” she called again, projecting her voice farther down the vacant halls. The silence combined with the stench was beginning to make her worry. The Vees were some of the worst inhabitants of Hell, but never once had she wanted harm to come to them. It was enough that they had gone quiet after their defeat six months ago.
“Maybe we should try to access Vox’s—”
A crisp metal clink cut through the silence. Charlie and Niffty locked eyes.
“It sounded like it came from upstairs. Let’s go!” She hoisted Niffty onto her shoulders and they sprinted for the elevator. Frantically pressing the call button, Charlie remembered the unfortunate lack of electricity.
“That's right, no power. Now where are the stairs? There have to be stairs, right? For safety and accessibility—” She paused and considered whether to search left or right; she also considered the veracity of the statement she was about to make. “No, I suppose the Vees wouldn’t have really concerned themselves with such—”
“Can I help you?” A familiar voice inquired flatly.
With a gasp, Charlie skidded to a halt. Niffty clung to golden locks to avoid being flung off her shoulders. A dim blue illuminated the door frame at the end of the hallway. The silhouette of the television headed man came into view.
“Vox—” Charlie began, ready to make her request, but her words died on her tongue.
The light from his screen didn't hold its former steady, vibrant blue, instead it was dull with an inconsistent flicker concentrated in the upper left corner— the same spot Alastor had shattered six months ago. Vox’s injury from six months ago had gone untreated.
“Vox,” she repeated more softly, less demanding, as she took in the sight of him.
“Why are you here?” A rattle of static plagued his once clear voice.
“I-” she attempted to ask her favor again, only to find herself gaping at the shabby state of the formerly sharp, and shiny CEO. Perhaps caused by the head injury, his head seemed to slump to one side, but his entire posture was slumped. It was difficult to tell through the low light, but he appeared to be wearing the same clothes since his defeat —torn, stained, sweaty, and ill-fitting.
He cleared his throat — either from impatience or a pallid attempt to shake the static from his voice. It was enough to snap Charlie from her stupor, but instead of asking Vox for what she needed, genuine concern poured from her lips. “Vox, are you ok?”
He let out a pained scoff. “That is not why you came here. If that were why, you would have shown up months ago, offering me a comfy bed at your delusional little hotel.”
“You’re always welcome at the hotel!” The corners of her lips quivered as she extended him a smile.
“Stop with the sanctimonious nonsense. You came here because you needed something. Now, what is it?” His words were stern, but his voice was not. Not even a shadow of bravado remained.
Vox had been such a charismatic presence, there was something almost frightening about seeing him whittled down to a fraction of his former self. Charlie wanted to encourage him to accept her invitation, but she felt that pushing the issue would only drive him further away.
“Well, you see,” she tapped her fingers together, and continued with her request, “Vaggie’s been arrested and charged with murdering a high level angel during the battle six months ago. I know she's innocent, but I have no proof! But you do! Your drones recorded the whole thing! If only I had those recordings, I could—”
“Yeah, fine, you can have the recordings. Just leave as soon as you have what you need.” He turned away and started to retreat back into the room he came from.
“What!? Seriously?” Charlie gasped and Niffty hopped off her shoulders.
“I said yes, now leave me alone,” he answered without turning back.
Niffty sprinted towards Vox, but stopped about a foot behind him. “You stink! This whole place stinks! I’m gonna clean everything!” Her eye went wide with crazed excitement, and perhaps because she was suddenly being lifted off the ground.
“You will do no such thing.” Vox dangled her at eye level.
“Vox, no! Put her down!” Charlie demanded.
He narrowed his eyes. One squinted normally, the other refracted through the broken glass. He placed Niffty down and added, “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”
“I know, it’s just—” Charlie sighed, she knew he wasn't going to hurt her. The man before her lacked the spark to do anything, really. She simply didn't want him to drop her. Nothing about this situation was right, though. Vox was in a terrible state, but he would never accept help. It shouldn’t have bothered her, he was a terrible guy. She should have been elated by the fact that he was willing to provide the crucial data she needed to save Vaggie. So, she decided to focus on that instead. “Nevermind, before you go, can you just tell me how I can access the data?”
“Bottom floor. It'll be in one of the drones.” The door slamming behind him sent the unambiguous message that the conversation was over.
Niffty straightened her apron and hurried back to Charlie. Together, they wandered off to figure out how to reach the bottom floor — notoriously considered Vox’s secret lair.
***
The entrance was easy enough to find, it was just the main elevator, the one with a faded decal of Vox himself on it. Charlie stared at the image for a moment. In it, he was brandishing the biggest, phoniest smile. She couldn't help but feel bad for him. When was the last time his smile was sincere? She shook the feeling off again, reminding herself that Vox was a very bad guy who had no qualms about hypnotizing people and using them however he saw fit. He was not someone she should feel sorry for.
Opening the unpowered door was a bit harder, but Charlie managed. Being a Nephilim, occasionally had its benefits, and strength was one of them. Niffty darted in the moment the door was pried ajar and nearly fell to her second death, but Charlie was swift to grab her before she plummeted down the shaft. “Be careful!” she admonished, before spanning her wings and gliding them both safely down to the bottom floor.
Vox’s old lair was as broken and lackluster as his own screen had become; it looked like much of it had been deliberately smashed. Maybe Vox himself had done it. As they walked across the long, lonely bridge, Charlie noticed that the giant aquarium was drained of most of its water and the sharks were gone. She didn't know much about Vox’s personal life, but she knew his sharks were dear to him. Where had they gone? It must have been very painful to lose them.
“Hey Niffty, let’s get the drone and get out of here.”
Niffty nodded as she started sorting through a pile of discarded electronics.
“And I need you to promise me you won't tell anyone we saw Vox today.”
Niffty gave one solid blink, and Charlie took it as agreement.