Chapter Text
“Vaggie!” Charlie exclaimed with a smile that spread from cheek to blushed cheek, “I miss you so much.”
She placed her hand near the hologram —hovering over, but never touching— so as to never destroy the illusion.
“Charlie,” Vaggie answered. Her voice housed a rare warmth.
Charlie’s eyes locked with the hologram of Vaggie’s eye, and the tears flowed. Vaggie’s tears were silent. Charlie’s were accompanied by ragged sobs. Charlie tried to force composure, but her hands trembled as she lifted the hard drive. “I got the evidence,” she finally said, and a soft smile returned to her lips.
“That's amazing, babe!” Vaggie exclaimed, “how’d you do it? I can't imagine the Vees would just give you the data without expecting something in return.”
“Actually,” Charlie mulled over how exactly she wanted to explain what had happened, “only Vox was there. I wouldn’t say he gave it to me, but he also didn’t stop me.”
Charlie hoped that information would satisfy her girlfriend’s curiosity. She didn't want to lie to her, but she also didn't want to share too much about the state she had found Vox in. There was no need to damage his pride further; there was a reason she had told Niffty not to mention that they had seen him. Charlie especially had no need to divulge that she dressed his wound, and brought him food and clean clothes the second time she saw him. She knew that was something Vaggie would not approve of.
Vaggie must have seen the quandary on Charlie’s face, because she crossed her arms and narrowed her eye. “Charlie,” she said reproachfully.
Charlie already knew what Vaggie was thinking. “Vaggie—” she attempted to interject.
“You didn't invite that flat-faced fuck to the hotel, did you?” Vaggie rubbed her temples.
“I maaay have mentioned it, but I didn't push it. I know he doesn’t want to be redeemed.” Even as Charlie spoke these words, she wasn’t entirely sure they were truthful. Something Vox had said had been bothering her, but she couldn’t explain that all now. She wanted to spend the few precious minutes with Vaggie not preoccupied by irksome thoughts of the “flat-faced fuck”.
“Babe, you know I love that you want to see the best in everyone, I really do, but please be careful with people like him.”
Charlie nodded. “Don't worry, I'm not gonna see him again. Now that I have the data, I have no reason to go back over there.” She assumed this was a truthful statement. Vox made it clear he wanted her gone, and despite having her number, he had not texted her once. Not even a thank you. If he didn’t want help, she wouldn’t push it on him.
“I know, but don’t even give him another thought. You're doing an amazing job with the hotel. You’ve helped so many souls, and will continue to do so. There will always be some you can’t reach and that's on them, not you.”
“Vaggie-” Charlie’s voice cracked as tears sprung from her eyes again, “why are you comforting me? You're the one who’s been arrested. Why are you so perfect?”
“I can see you're stressed, Babe. And I know you're doing everything you can to prove my innocence. I miss you so much, but I'm not scared. You, on the other hand, look like you haven't slept in days.”
“Hey—” Charlie feigned offense, but her follow-up was cut off by an angelic guard informing the couple that visiting hours were over. The hologram flickered off, and Charlie found herself alone with far too many thoughts.
Before she let any of those thoughts fester, she grabbed a glass of cabernet and a pint of rocky road. She flopped on the couch and tried to force herself to relax, knowing full well that forcing oneself to relax was the entirely wrong way to do so.
“Relax, relax, relax,” she muttered to herself as she chomped into a spoon of ice cream. But between worries for Vaggie, and vexxing concerns about Vox, she couldn't force her mind to quiet.
“Bzzzt!” Her phone loudly interrupted her attempt at peace. Normally, she’d leave it on silent, but with Vaggie’s situation, she wanted to be privy to any updates in a timely manner. She placed the pint between her thighs, and reached for the phone.
Unknown contact: Hey
Her heart sank. What terrible news could this unknown person be contacting her for?
Charlie: Sorry, who is this? I don't have your number saved in my phone.
Unknown contact: oh, right. It's Vox.
Her jaw dropped. She didn’t know who she was expecting, but it wasn't Vox. Sure, it made sense since she had given him her number, but she didn't really expect him to reach out. Given the tearful and agitated state she last saw him in, she may have hoped he would, but considered it highly unlikely.
Charlie: Hi Vox!!! I'm happy you texted! How's your head? Feeling better?
She really was happy. As silly as it may have been to be worried over the guy who had tried to defame her and destroy the hotel, she found herself relieved.
The typing bubble popped up on the screen. While he typed, Charlie took a sip of wine and another spoon of ice cream, and pondered what she should call him in her contacts. On the off chance someone else saw a notification from him pop up, it was probably best not to save his number as “Vox.” He typed and typed, allowing Charlie to expect a long response, and to decide on the perfect name for his contact. After a few minutes of mulling over nicknames she settled on “Chip.”
Chip: It’s better, yeah. I'll eventually have to replace my head entirely but, well, nevermind. Have you heard anything about Valentino or Velvette?
Chip. She thought it was a sufficient name. The first word that had come to her mind was “broken,” but she swiftly concluded that a notification from “Broken” would invite unwanted questions. She didn't like to think of anyone as broken anyway, but Vox nearly forced the word into her mind. Not only was his screen broken, he seemed to insinuate that he himself was fundamentally broken. He wasn't broken though, she wouldn't accept that. She refused to accept that! Damaged, dented, quite a bit bent, and chipped. He was most certainly chipped. Chip. That was like a tech thing too, it worked well.
Charlie: I'm glad it's feeling better 😁 I'm sure we can figure out a more permanent solution soon! As for Val and Vel, no sorry, I haven't heard news of them. I'll keep my eyes and ears out though!
The typing bubble popped up again and bobbled up and down for seconds, minutes, enough time for Charlie to down a few more spoons of rocky road. When a new message finally arrived, it was far shorter than the amount of typing would have indicated.
Chip: …we?
Charlie: I mean, yeah! If I can help you, I’d be happy to! Did you eat the food I brought you?
While she awaited his next text, she couldn't help but replay what he had said the other day.
You should have realized from the moment you met me, that I am not someone you can fix.
She had always assumed he simply didn't want redemption, but did he mean something different? Did he mean he couldn’t be fixed even if he wanted to be?
Chip: Yeah, the veggies were undercooked.
The typing notification appeared again. He had more to say.
Chip: but it was nice to have something homecooked.
Charlie smiled, about to express her excitement, only to see that he still had more to say.
Typing…
Typing…
Typing…
Chip: It wasn't very good though.
How rude! Charlie’s smile vanished and she tossed back some more wine. She clacked away as she attempted to conjure her own sassy response.
Charlie: Well, you only think that because you've been eating nothing but junk for months!
She grabbed the wine bottle and poured a second glass. Before she could take another sip, she reconsidered her response. Was it too snappy? He wasn’t typing anything in return. Perhaps she should add an emoji to show she was still being playful and friendly. It was incredible she got this much communication from him, she didn't want to risk scaring him off.
Charlie: 😝
As soon as she sent the emoji, she regretted it. “Oh no, that was cringe!” she lamented aloud with a slap to her forehead. But the return of the typing bubble made her feel slightly at ease. And like before, his typing went on for an unexpected amount of time.
Chip: You brought a lot of stuff for me. That was…thoughtful, but…did anyone see you packing all of that? No one else knows about me…right?
The next text came at an astonishing pace.
Chip: ESPECIALLY NOT ALASTOR.
She couldn’t help but chuckle at that last text. Vox really still struggled with his falling out with Alastor, even after all this time. Her laugh died down, maybe it wasn't that funny, but actually a bit sad. Vox really struggled with relationships, in general, didn't he? She decided to reassure him, at least about the Alastor part.
Charlie: I promise Alastor does not know, and he will not know. I even told Niffty to keep quiet about you.
Chip: So no one else knows? Not a single soul?
Charlie: well…
Chip: who did you tell and why
Charlie: I didn’t want to tell anyone, but Vaggie was curious about how I got the data. I mentioned you, but only briefly, no specifics! She won’t tell anyone!
Chip: you should have made something up
Charlie: I'm not gonna lie to my girlfriend! 😡
It was probably a good ten minutes before he responded. Each time she glanced at the phone, it indicated that he was typing furiously. Since none of his answers had been terribly long, she was beginning to think that he was incredibly indecisive with what he wanted to say. At long last, her phone buzzed again.
Chip: Whatever. Just don't tell anyone else.
Perhaps it was the wine, but Charlie responded a bit more candidly than perhaps was advisable with someone as mercurial as Vox.
Charlie: I saw you typing like crazy for like ten minutes, all just to say that? You know you can just tell me what you're thinking.
***
Vox had been curled up like a shrimp in his recliner throughout his entire text conversation with the Princess of Hell. At least he didn't smell like a shrimp anymore. With his head wrapped up, he was able to safely bathe. The first shower in over six months was easily the best shower of his afterlife. Yes, even better than those showers with Valentino.
And he was finally in fresh, clean clothes. Not only were his old clothes torn and stained, they barely fit any more. He hated to admit it to himself, but six months of junk food and sulking had not been great for his physique. Not that it really mattered any more, he was hidden from the world so who cared what he looked like. Still, if the princess stopped by some more, it would be nice to work towards being in shape again.
But at the moment he didn’t exactly welcome her return.
“That bitch!” he exclaimed at her most recent text.
Nepo Brat: I saw you typing like crazy for like ten minutes, all just to say that? You know you can just tell me what you're thinking.
How was he supposed to respond to a text like that? He couldn’t, he could not just tell her what he was thinking. Foolish words like thank you and sorry could not just be thrown around over text. Thank you made his stomach hurt just to think of, and sorry nearly brought him to retching.
Another text came through. With a grimace, he opened the phone to see what new awful thing she had said.
Nepo Brat: I'm just teasing 😉 Anyway, this wine is making me sleepy and I've got a big day tomorrow. We started doing monthly field trips and tomorrow’s the aquarium! I can't wait!
Nepo Brat: But seriously, I meant what I said, don't hesitate to reach out. Even if you just want to chat. Night 😴
She was going to the aquarium. He unfurled from shrimp mode and sat up wide-eyed and eager. He could ask her to check on his sharks! There was zero second-guessing before sending his next message.
Vox: WAIT DON’T SLEEP YET. I HAVE A FAVOR TO ASK 🦈