Chapter Text
February 25th, 2002
Andre knew life wasn’t fair, but he’d always hoped the afterlife was.
His family had always struggled in a world that didn’t give a fuck about them. By the time he was nine, he was on the streets of Vegas every evening, doing card tricks for tips since it was the only way he could get cash. Tourists tended to be generous if he performed well and gave them his winning dimpled smile.
And sure, he sometimes used the sleight of hand he’d learned to free a tourist of their wallet, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Any idiot rich enough to come to the city of excess didn’t need the fifty to a hundred bucks he’d pull from those leather folds. But for his family, it was everything.
It worked for several years, and he found a rhythm, a balance. The places that were safe, the people who weren’t. But it was still dangerous, and eventually he chose the wrong mark.
When he found himself with a knife to the gut, slick red blood flowing through his fingers, he’d hoped the powers above would understand. That they would look at his intent, the necessity of what he’d done. That they’d have empathy for his suffering and desperation.
When he woke up on a city street he didn’t recognize, the sky red and oppressive, he knew the truth.
Heaven didn’t care.
And in the months that followed, he became more certain of that fact. He was down here with the worst of humanity, those who committed heinous acts far worse than him, and not because they’d had to. They’d wanted to.
But that also meant Andre didn’t have to feel guilty when he continued his street magic scam from above.
His new body even seemed to encourage it. He had two large black wings, with red on the inside, just like a magician’s cape. A white stripe went across the center, with card suits along it. His large cat ears were like aces, with a red that dipped down into the flap and a big red heart in each. His tail tip and eyebrows were also feathered in black, red, and white. The rest of him was all tuxedo cat and made him feel as if he was a real performer in Vegas, like the ones he’d always longed to see.
He’d lost his adorable dimple, but he hoped his wide golden eyes and sharp cat teeth were considered cute to adult demons. If that didn’t work, his large, flicking ears usually helped.
“Is this your card?” he asked the opossum demon in front of him with a huge grin, the three of spades between his fingers.
“Nope,” the demon said, turning up his nose. “It was the king of hearts.”
Andre had stolen this deck from a passed-out drunk. It was missing the king of hearts, so he knew this guy was full of shit. Besides that, the trick was completely fabricated—he was never wrong.
“You sure?” he asked, still holding his smile though his lip was trembling in frustration.
“Pretty sure. Nice try, squirt.”
The small crowd grumbled as they dispersed, none leaving a tip in his cup.
“Asshole,” Andre hissed, glaring daggers at the back of the opossum demon’s head.
He picked up his cup and frowned at the empty interior. People in Hell were more cautious of him when he performed, so he hadn’t even managed to steal a wallet. This entire two hours had been a fucking bust. It looked like he’d be raiding some restaurant dumpsters tonight.
It seemed completely unfair that he was dead yet still had to eat. He learned he couldn’t actually die again if he didn’t, but the discomfort of an empty belly was enough to drive him crazy after a few days. He would rather eat garbage than deal with that.
Feeling defeated, he headed down the street towards his favorite dumpsters. He liked to look as if he wasn’t paying attention, but he was always alert. Everyone was either a potential mark or a potential threat, and he didn’t want to miss either of them. And right ahead of him was a potential threat.
A boy around his age was heading in the opposite direction, quickly gaining on a short snake demon with a large purse. He was at least a foot taller than Andre and was covered in light pink fur, with one cerise eye, one teal, and three matching-colored freckles below each. His hair was slicked back in an effortless way that made Husk self-conscious about how messy his was. He was dressed well, in a clean black button-up and jeans. Husk had dumpster dived for his T-shirt and dirty jeans.
The boy was also trying to be nonchalant, but Husk could read body language better than anyone he knew. He had two hands in his pockets; the other two hung at his sides. The fur patterns resembled fingerless gloves, each matching his eyes. His fingers twitched in anticipation. There was no doubt in Andre’s mind that he was going for that purse.
Andre continued to pretend he wasn’t paying attention, humming quietly. He stepped further to the side of the sidewalk and watched from the corner of his eye as the boy bumped into the snake demon, dipping his hand into her purse as he apologized profusely.
“Be more careful, young man!” the demon said with a click of her tongue.
“Will do, ma’am,” the boy said in a thick New York accent that Andre quite liked.
He tried not to get distracted by how attractive the boy was, instead focusing on the wallet the boy had grabbed and slipped into his back pocket. Andre shifted on the sidewalk until they were side by side and bumped him just like the boy had done to the woman.
“Hey! Watch it!” the boy snarled, and Andre mumbled out several apologies, trying to look wide-eyed and innocent as he slipped the wallet from the boy’s pocket. “Clumsy little shit.” The boy shook his head and walked away.
Andre chuckled to himself and carefully kept the same pace so he wouldn’t be suspicious. As soon as there was a dark alley, he hurried into it.
“Sucker,” he said, opening the wallet to see how much was in there.
He groaned as he pulled out twenty dollars. That was nothing! But it would at least be enough for a couple of days of burgers. He shoved the money in his pocket, then tossed the wallet aside. He started walking to the other end of the alley when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
Terror flooded through him as he slowly turned his head.
Eight glowing eyes—half cerise, half teal—stared at him in the dark.
“You little fucker!” The boy from earlier spun him around, and Andre found himself pinned against a wall, feet dangling, wings aching, ears flat.
“It was only twenty bucks! You can have it!” Andre squealed as one of the boy’s hands clamped around his neck.
“You have no idea who the fuck you just messed with, kid.”
Andre tried to tug the hand away that was tightening slowly.
“Please! Let me go!” he gasped.
Then, unexpectedly, the boy dropped Andre. He fell to the ground in a shaking heap.
“Bit of a pussy, huh?” the boy laughed. “We’ll fix that.” He grabbed Andre by the arm, tugged him to his feet, and began pushing him down the alley.
“Bro, it was twenty bucks. You’re acting fucking crazy!”
The boy didn’t respond, just kept hauling him. Andre tried to use his wings to smack the boy, but that idea was quickly shut down as two more hands held them in place.
“Chillax,” the boy said. “I’m taking you to Boss.”
Andre had no idea who the fuck that was or why that information would calm him down in the slightest. But it was obvious he wasn’t getting away from this kid. He was stronger, taller, and had way too many arms. So, resigned to his fate, he let himself be pushed down the street and into a different alley.
No one tried to stop them. Why would they care if one punk-ass kid was harassing another? This was Hell. Worse shit was happening everywhere.
At last, they ended up at a fire escape.
“Climb,” the boy said.
Andre thought about flying away again, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the boy suddenly sprouted wings and chased after him, so he obeyed.
When they arrived at the top, it wasn’t at all what he’d expected.
Though Andre could fly, he stayed on the ground unless he had no other choice. He had a terrible fear of heights, which he knew was pathetic. It turned out there was a whole world going on up here that he didn’t know about.
Tents were pitched all over the roof, and a dozen kids were hanging out on some blankets, chatting. Some turned and looked at Andre and the boy with interest. A cyclops girl with a high blonde ponytail was especially eyeing them. She grinned mischievously.
“Shut the fuck up,” the boy said as they passed her, even though she hadn’t said a word.
At the edge of the roof, there was a pile of dirty pillows, and upon it sat a rat demon. He couldn’t have been over fifteen, though it was hard to tell sometimes.
“Angel, you were supposed to bring us money, not another mouth to fucking feed,” the rat, who Andre assumed was Boss, said.
“I’ve got a hundred bucks in my pocket, but I think you’re gonna like this one. He stole from me. Didn’t even notice until I was a block away. If he were quieter, I’d never have found him,” the boy, Angel, responded.
“I see...” Boss looked Andre up and down. “How long you been down here? Don’t think I've seen you before.”
Andre gulped. “‘Bout six months.”
“Six months?” Boss raised his voice. “And none of you little fuckers saw a newbie in our territory?”
Everyone looked at each other and shrugged.
“I haven’t been doing my act here long. I was performing on the other side of the city, but no one tipped. Thought I’d try my luck over here,” Andre explained. “I’ll go back! You’ll never see me again, I swear!”
“Performing?” Boss lifted an eyebrow.
“I do card tricks,” Andre said.
Angel snorted. “Bet you do more than just that, huh?”
“Sleight of hand is good for a lot of things,” Andre said with a blush.
“Oh! So you get them to watch, then you steal their shit! You’re a regular husker, huh?” Boss asked.
Andre’s brow furrowed. “Husker?”
“Yeah, those people who trick people out of their money.”
“Do you mean a ‘hustler’?”
“I said what I fucking said!” Boss snarled. “That’ll be your name. Husker. You answer to nothing else from now on.” He flicked his hand dismissively. “He’s yours, Angel. Take good care of him.”
Andre scowled. What was he, a puppy?
“I don’t want him!” Angel said, throwing four hands in the air.
“Too fucking bad. Now get the fuck out of my sight.” Boss lay back on the dirty pillows.
“Motherfucker,” Angel grunted under his breath. “Alright, Husker, let’s go. I’ll explain the rules to you.” Angel turned and began walking to a makeshift wooden bridge that connected to another building.
Not sure what else to do or exactly what was going on, Andre—who was apparently now named Husker—followed.
The cyclops shouted out, “Ooo!” and Angel snapped his head around to face her.
“I said shut up!”
The cyclops burst into a fit of laughter. “Niffty is gonna love this!”
Angel continued to the bridge with Husker at his heels.
They walked across three bridges in total until they were on a roof that didn’t have any tents or kids. Angel sat on the edge, feet dangling, and Husker flopped down next to him, trying not to be scared of how high up they were.
“Welcome to the gang,” Angel said, reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling out a lighter and cigarette. “We call ourselves The Street Rats.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Very cool,” Husker said, though he didn’t really mean it.
“It’s lame as shit! But don’t tell Boss I said that.” Angel lit his cigarette and took a puff. “I was impressed with you. Didn’t even feel you take the wallet. Your hands are huge but pretty damn slick.”
Husker shrugged. “Years of practice.”
“It’s impressive. How old are you?”
“Turned twelve a couple months ago.”
“Ah, just a pipsqueak then,” Angel laughed.
“How old are you?” Husker asked, crossing his arms in indignation.
“Thirteen in April.” Angel grinned.
Husker rolled his eyes.
“Want some?” Angel held out the cigarette, and Husker shook his head.
“No way! That’s bad for you.”
“We’re fucking dead, kid,” Angel snorted. “Not gonna get any deader.”
Husker saw the logic in that, so took it. He inhaled a small puff and immediately started to cough.
Angel laughed, and Husker was a bit annoyed at how appealing he found the sound.
“You’ll get used to it, kid,” Angel said.
“Stop calling me that!” Husker said, taking another puff and this time making a valiant effort not to cough. He still did, but it was much less.
“Alright, Whiskers.” Angel smirked at him.
“My name is—”
Angel shushed him before he could finish. “Your name is Husker. You can go by Husk, but never say your real name around anyone. You keep that shit to yourself. That’s one of the rules.”
At least ‘Husk’ was a bit better than ‘Husker’ in his opinion. Now he was just an empty shell instead of someone who took the husk off corn.
He sighed. “Why couldn’t I choose my name? I’d have picked something cool! Like Houdini!”
Angel raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Trust me, that’s not cool.”
Husk tried not to pout. “What about Penn? Teller? Sigfried?”
“You really got a thing for magic, huh?”
“Yeah! It’s fucking sick! I lived in Vegas before I died. I’ve always wanted to see a show in person.”
Husk’s face fell. He’d never get to see one now. Unless they ended up down here, and it wouldn’t be the same. There were so many things he’d never get to do that he’d always wanted to.
He'd vowed not to think about this shit anymore. He’d spent his first month down here in constant tears, missing his family, mourning the life he had lost. He had to be stronger. And he especially didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Angel.
But Angel wasn’t looking at him like he wanted to make fun of him. Instead, he was frowning sympathetically, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Dying’s tough. I get it.” He squeezed Husk’s shoulder and gave him a small smile. “But it’ll be a bit better now that you got the gang.”
Husk nodded and schooled his features like his uncles would do when they played poker.
Angel continued. “Plus, sinners can do magic down here! Not much unless you’re an overlord, but still a few tricks.”
“I haven’t been able to do anything,” Husk said, looking down at his hands.
“I’ll help you figure it out once you’re used to all this gang stuff.” Angel took back the cigarette and took a drag.
Husk tried not to think the words ‘indirect kiss’.
“What can you do?” Husk asked.
“I got the eye thing,” Angel pointed to his face and made his eyes, all eight of them, glow. “And I can store weapons in some sort of portal if I use my arms.” He demonstrated by pulling out two extra arms, both wielding switchblades.
“That’s dope!” Husk bounced up and down a little. “I wonder what I can do! Tell me the rest of the rules so we can get to the fun stuff!”
Angel laughed. “Love the enthusiasm. The gang is simple. We all work together. We have each other’s backs. Share everything we find, no hoarding. If one of us doesn’t get to eat, none of us do.”
“Like a family,” Husk said. Life had been hard down here alone, and he was grateful to be part of something.
“Exactly! And we don’t sell each other out. If you get caught, you never tell anyone about the rest of us.”
Husk nodded. That sounded fair.
“So what did Boss mean about me being yours?” Husk asked.
He kept his words steady even though his heart picked up its pace. Angel was hot, and Husk would've had to be blind not to notice.
Angel turned his head and rubbed the back of his neck where there was a heart pattern—teal and pink fur woven together like it was stitched up the middle.
“It’s another stupid rule. Newbies need a mentor. Cherri, the loud bitch from earlier, was mine, but I've been here two years now. Boss’s been bugging me about it, so guess he figured it was time to force me.” Angel turned back to face him. "You're in good hands.”
“So, what? I follow you around?” Husk asked, trying not to sound excited.
“Yeah. We gotta stick together. We got the gang’s back, but, above all else, each other’s. Partners in crime.”
“Sounds fun,” Husk said with a nonchalant shrug as his heart continued to pound in his chest.
“Sure.” Angel smiled, and Husk felt the butterflies in his stomach come to life. “You said you’ve been here six months. That means you were here during the last extermination.”
Husk shuddered at the memory. It had been almost two months ago and was the most horrifying night of his existence.
“Yeah. I didn’t even know we could permanently die until that night. A nice demon warned me the exorcists were coming and to hide. I didn’t know what he meant, but then I saw the portal open, and them all pouring out.” His ears flattened, and his feathers ruffled. “I hid in a sewer until it was over. Couldn’t get the smell out for a week.”
“I remember my first one,” Angel said. “Was three years ago, but it still feels like yesterday.” He looked out at the city, his eyes glazing over. “I kept thinking there was no fucking way it was happening. I ended up breaking into some guy’s house and hiding in his basement. He beat the shit out of me when he found me the next morning and tossed me back on the street.” Angel looked back at Husk, his brow wrinkled. “He could have done worse. There are a lot of sketchy fuckers down here.”
Husk’s stomach clenched with anxiety. He had been lucky so far.
“Hey, don’t look so scared.” Angel punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m here now. I’ll protect you.”
Husk didn’t want to look weak, so he frowned. “I don’t need protecting!”
“Everyone needs protecting. That’s why we got the gang. No shame in it. We’re all just kids, scared shitless, aren’t we? Even Boss is scared.”
“You don’t look scared.”
Angel took another puff of his cigarette. He looked cool and in control. Powerful. Husk had never met anyone like him before.
“Fake it ‘til you make it,” Angel said with a smirk. “What you show others is all they’ll ever see. Gotta act tough so no one pushes you around. I'll teach you to fight too. I was testing you in that alley, and you need a lot of work. But you've got potential.”
Husk looked at Angel with huge, dilated pupils. He wanted to be just like him. He wanted Angel to think he was cool, and not to think of him as some kid who followed him around.
“So, how’d you end up down here, anyway?” Husk asked, trying to change the subject so his crush wouldn’t be so damn obvious.
“Whoa, you don’t just ask people that! That’s another rule!”
Husk rolled his eyes. “Lotta rules for Hell.”
“They’re important. It’s how the gang’s worked for so long.” Angel looked over his shoulder. “No one’s around, so I’ll tell you. Consider it a peace offering for grabbing you in that alley.”
Husk leaned in, tail flicking behind him as he waited.
“I was part of the mob,” Angel said proudly. “Well, kinda. I was a runner for them. Messages that they didn’t want traced on a phone.”
Husk’s eyes widened. “You’re lying!”
“Am not! My dad was in it. It’s a family business.” Angel slid his hand through his slicked-back hair. “But I ended up in a gunfight when I wasn’t supposed to be. I shot one bastard but...” he trailed off and began to unbutton his shirt. When he was done, the broken heart pattern on his chest was revealed. It was the same colors as the one on his head. “Got shot right in the heart.” He pointed between the two halves.
“Damn. That’s pretty badass.”
Angel grinned. “You think so?”
Husk nodded, eyes wide in adoration. Angel left his shirt open, and Husk was careful not to stare at the fluffy expanse.
“Let me tell you one more secret,” Angel said, moving closer, making Husk’s tail flick nervously. “I told Boss I was a drug runner and not just a messenger. That’s why he let me pick the name Angel Dust.”
“Didn't want to be called ‘Hermes’?”
Angel’s face scrunched. “Was that the guy from Hercules?”
“Yeah! He was a messenger and moved super fast! Greek gods are kickass. They’re always doing magic and fucking shit up!”
“You’re a weird kid,” Angel laughed.
Husk was used to people saying that about him, but somehow, he didn't get the impression Angel was making fun of him. He said it affectionately, as if he liked it.
“What about you, then?” Angel asked. “You owe me a secret back, so how did you die?”
Husk told him about the mark and how he’d been stabbed. Angel listened with a frown, nodding along.
“That’s rough.”
“Not very badass.”
Angel elbowed him. “It’s badass in its own way!” He smiled again, and Husk felt like his heart was going to explode. “Ya know, I think we’re gonna get along just fine, Houdini.” Angel accentuated the nickname, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
Husk grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. “Me too, Hermes.”
“Oof. I’m gonna regret this,” Angel chuckled. “If Boss hears us using the wrong names, he’s gonna be pissed.”
“Guess that’s another secret we gotta keep.”
Angel winked. “I like the way you think.”
Husk felt his heart skip a beat.
He pulled out his cards and shuffled them, desperate for a distraction. “How about I show you a trick?”
Angel leaned back on two of his arms and snuffed out the cigarette. “Sure.”
Husk fanned out the cards, smiling softly. His deck might be missing a king of hearts, but maybe he’d just found the replacement.