Chapter Text
It was wrong. It was all wrong! It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. If only they could have understood Lucifer’s thinking… then everything would be okay. Everything wouldn’t be falling apart around him.
____________
Alastor took his job at the hotel very seriously. Even though it was doomed to fail, it did have his name tied to it which meant it had to at least look presentable. That meant making sure everything was in working order and making sure the staff were doing an adequate job.
Now that he was there of his own accord, he felt much better about performing his duties as the host of the hotel. Of course he was happy to sit and watch Charlie’s little redemption project fail miserably before (it was swell entertainment!), but now there was no Rosie dangling it over his head saying “You have to be there because I said so!” and “Don’t forget what happens when you don’t fulfill our deal, deer.”
He actually didn’t mind Rosie all that much. When she wasn’t nagging him about his responsibilities, she was quite pleasant to be around and she made great conversation. She had not reached out to him ever since they made their last deal for Rosie to finally fix his staff in exchange for his cooperation in halting Carmilla’s weapon from exploding and killing everyone.
In all honesty, he would have helped them anyway. He just knew that Rosie couldn’t afford to call his bluff, so he cashed in a deal that worked wonderfully in his favor.
He had a couple of reasons for helping either way:
1.) He would lose a great source of entertainment.
2.) He could NOT let Vincent technically get the credit for taking out that many overlords in one go, even if it was his stupid machine malfunctioning.
3.) Lucifer Morningstar was the battery powering that weapon. If he died, that would’ve been a pity because Alastor saw great potential in how he could use Lucifer to his benefit.
Speak of the devil, he had not made an appearance in the past few days. Alastor presumed he had waddled away to his room to lick his wounds after the humiliation ritual Vincent had put him through. Really, what a spectacular show! Alastor could not have planned it better.
He got a front row seat to witnessing every sinner in Hell learn that Lucifer was unable to harm them, and Lucifer was so moronic that he walked right into Vincent’s trap. Of course, Alastor’s pride took a small hit during that roller coaster, what with Vincent parading him around as a hostage throughout Pentagram City, but it was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of clawing out his insides during their final battle.
Alastor hummed, recalling the satisfying feeling as he went through his lobby checklist.
“HE DID FUCKING WHAT?” A distinctly Lucifer sounding voice shouted from the direction of his room, the echo almost shaking the hotel.
Seconds later, a golden shimmering portal appeared in the lobby and a frankly fuming Lucifer stomped out. His eyes were coated in an alarming red and his horns spiraled up from his hairline. What in Hell could have him that heated?
“YOU!” He shouted as soon as he spotted Alastor. The word carried a breath of flame with it which warmed Alastor’s face. “I’m gonna rip your fucking head off!”
He made his way to Alastor in two swell leaps and dug his fingers into the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. A sense of fight or flight immediately went off in Alastor’s body at the sudden contact, and he smiled down at Lucifer challengingly.
“Whatever do you mean?” Alastor said, clipping each word to sound as faux-polite as possible. “We both know you can’t do that.”
“You!” Lucifer snarled. “My room. Now!”
Before Alastor could react, Lucifer pushed him through the golden portal leading to his room.
Alastor caught himself before he could fall as the portal fizzled away behind Lucifer, who had stepped in behind him.
“I thought no Alastor’s were allowed in here.” Alastor commented.
A look of confusion briefly crossed Lucifer’s face and he blinked before he changed it back to anger.
“Don’t change the subject! What is wrong with you actually?” He scoffed.
Alastor straightened his coat jacket where it had rudely been wrinkled.
“Considering you haven’t told me what you’re mad about, I couldn’t tell you.”
Lucifer invaded his personal space for the second time that day and poked his finger at his chest. The wound that had been festering there for the past month seared in pain, and Alastor used all his will to keep himself from flinching.
“First of all, you made a deal with Charlie. How dare you. What gives you the right to be negotiating deals with my daughter?”
How could Lucifer have possibly found out about that? He scanned his surroundings quickly and noticed a television in Lucifer’s room which was paused on the 666 news station, reporting on Vincent’s campaign party. Ah.
“She is a grown up, Lucifer. The terms were agreeable and she accepted them on her own.”
Lucifer still looked absolutely ready to smite him, were it possible. Alastor stood his ground and kept his breathing steady, remembering there couldn’t possibly be any real threat here.
“What. Were. The terms?” Lucifer asked through sharp, gritted teeth.
“I was the one who told her how to kill angels! In exchange, she was to do me a small favor at the time of my choosing where she would harm no one.”
“And you used that favor to make her declare the tv guy the strongest sinner in Hell?”
Ah, the night he finished off 3 deals at once. What an achievement!
“That I did. It did quite benefit me. It knocked a chip off my shoulder that had been bugging me so.”
“You put her in danger!” Lucifer shouted. Did he have a volume that was below shout?
“Charlie was in no such danger at any time. I didn’t allow Vox to hold me captive just for fun. I stipulated that he was not to lay his hands on her.”
“Which he did.” The fire in between Lucifer’s horns grew.
“Very good! I then very publicly ripped him a new one for it, the creep.”
Alastor felt his blood boil again thinking about how Vincent thought he had the right to put his hands on anyone, let alone Alastor himself. He felt the need to shower any time he remembered how Vincent put his hands all over him as he paraded him around the city and his little tower.
Lucifer didn’t look quelled though.
“She shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” He said.
“It was her choice to be there. Where were you during all this?” And now that he had started, he could not stop. “You walked into a trap so obviously set up by Vox and got yourself captured. In fact, where were you during the last extermination, when exterminators attacked your daughter’s hotel? As I recall, you only stepped in at the last minute. And you didn’t even eliminate Adam.”
Now it was Alastor’s turn to invade Lucifer’s personal space. As much as he hated being this physically close to someone, getting in Lucifer’s face to make his point was worth it. Alastor made sure to capture that flash of raw guilt and stash it away in his mind for whenever he needed a funny image to recall later.
“You’re playing games way out of your league,” Lucifer huffed, sounding more tired now. His horns finally receded and his eyes turned back to their gold and red color. “Don’t think I don’t know that you weren’t able to take on Adam yourself. I could have told you that was a bad idea.”
“But you didn’t,” Alastor snarled. “Because you weren’t here.”
“I couldn’t be, okay!” Lucifer cried out. “Not yet. There’s a lot that you don’t understand.”
Alastor squinted at him, finally backing up a step.
“Like what?”
“The angelic rot emanating from your chest wound,” Lucifer said casually, looking down at his chest. “I can smell it.”
“Smell it?” Alastor doubled back, instinctively covering the spot with his hand.
“It’s fucking rotting your organs, Alastor, of course I can smell it. It’s angelic decay, were you just going to ignore it?”
Lucifer now had a troubled look on his face. Alastor still had trouble processing because… of course that was his plan. In life, and afterlife, there were just some things that you needed to grin and bear. He stood there silently with his usual smile plastered across his face as response.
“You weren’t gonna tell anyone about that?!” Now Lucifer just seemed more exasperated than anything.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” Alastor lied.
“Bullshit, I know it does. Angel-inflicted wounds are no joke.” Lucifer’s voice got quieter towards the end of that sentence and he looked down. Interesting.
“And what would you like me to do about it? I’ve stitched it up. It appears normal treatments are not working adequately.” Alastor explained.
“Of course they’re not,” Lucifer said, tapping his chin and still not looking up. Then after a moment of silence, he said something Alastor wasn’t sure he heard correctly.
“I could heal it for you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Was Alastor’s immediate response.
“I’m an angel, I could heal it for you. It wouldn’t be a big deal.” Lucifer shrugged and started rolling up his sleeves.
“And why would you do that?” Alastor asked, defenses rising with each movement. His shadow grew disproportionately behind him.
“I don’t know why, but you did make it a part of your deal with Mr. Tv Head that he couldn’t harm Charlie. Consider it a thank you.”
Thank you? Alastor didn’t do thank you’s. That would imply he had done something outside of his own self-interest.
“I simply knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist putting his hands on her. Overzealous men never think about what they agree to.”
“Yeah, sure.” Lucifer didn’t sound wholly convinced. “So will you let me heal it or no?”
Alastor mulled it over. Lucifer was offering to fix his most pesky problem essentially for free. He didn’t see a downside. Perhaps he could even glean some information from this interaction.
“If you insist, then by all means.” Alastor cocked his head to the side.
“Great! Um,” Lucifer clasped his hands together. “Make yourself comfortable?”
Alastor honed in on the minuscule changes in his voice. Where he was so confident and angry before, he now sounded completely out of his element.
Alastor finally took in the state of Lucifer’s room. The walls were red, but the gold lighting helped brighten up the room. The door made it look like you were walking right into a circus tent. Lucifer of course had a king size bed in the middle of the room with a duck-shaped headboard. Speaking of, there were rubber ducks littered all across the room. They were piled in the bookshelf behind his bed, under his bed, on his desk, on the floor, and even along the staircase that spiraled up and out of his room. Where did that lead to?
Why Lucifer had such the fascination with those tiny yellow ducks, Alastor could never guess. They were such a nauseating bright color which stuck out like a sore thumb wherever they were placed. Alastor supposed Lucifer shared that trait with them.
He ended up sitting on the edge of Lucifer’s bed with his hands on his knees, unsure of how to proceed.
“Sorry, it’s been a long time since I’ve had guests,” Lucifer said as he walked over to the bed. He climbed over the side of the bed and sat on his heels to the right of Alastor. “You might want to lay down for this.”
“What exactly does this process entail?” Alastor asked, looking back at Lucifer with narrowed eyes.
Lucifer waved his hand in the air. “Nothing bad. I’m just gonna put my hand over the wound and then, *poof*, gone.”
Alastor highly doubted that, but reclined himself on the bed anyway. The ends justify the means anyway he kept repeating to himself.
Lucifer settled in next to him and raised his hand to put it on Alastor’s chest. Without thinking Alastor’s hand shot up to grab at his wrist, ensnaring it in his claws.
“Assure me that you do not mean any funny business.” He said, black tendrils of demonic energy emanating off of his form.
“No funny business to be had,” Lucifer said, barely reacting to the fact that he was grabbed. “Will you let me continue?”
Alastor waited a beat to calm his unwilling nerves. 1, 2, 3. Then he released Lucifer’s wrist. He had been through too many life-threatening situations to count, he could handle someone touching his chest.
Lucifer waited a beat of his own and then lowered his hand and placed it on Alastor’s chest. Even through 2 layers of clothing, Alastor could tell that Lucifer’s hands were cold. At first, he did not feel anything besides that.
Then Lucifer’s hand began to glow gold as he pulled the angelic rot right out of Alastor’s wound. It wasn’t necessarily painful, but it wasn’t comfortable by any means. He could feel his organs putting themselves back together and his blood purifying itself. The whole process made him feel nauseated and light headed, and he then understood why Lucifer suggested he lie down.
He looked over to Lucifer’s face and he looked calm and focused. Like someone who had to step up and attend to wounded during a war because they were needed. His eyes were closed and he was mouthing something to himself Alastor wasn’t entirely sure was English.
It could not have been more than thirty seconds since the ordeal began that Lucifer sealed the wound and his skin stitched itself back together. Then Lucifer took a sequence of short breaths riddled with exhaustion and removed his hand. He opened his eyes and rotated his wrist a few times as though flexing the muscle.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done that,” he explained. “You should be good to go, but your chest will still be in fragile condition. All the tissue in there is new, so give it some time to strengthen before you get into another fight.”
Alastor took a deep breath before he sat up.
“Looks like the quality of your work is not the best it could be then,” Alastor remarked.
“A simple thank you would do, y’know.” Lucifer said, rolling his sleeves back down. He actually sounded a bit dejected by that. Alastor could use that.
“I thought this was a ‘thank you’ for inadvertently protecting your daughter.” Alastor stood up and straightened his jacket. “Ah well, I will be under doctor’s orders for a while. This will have to do.”
“Ha ha, real funny.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, but it seemed to pick up his mood a bit. He picked himself up off the side of the bed and looked around awkwardly. “Well… will that be all?”
“You were the one who pushed me in here,” Alastor replied with a hint of venom in his voice, crossing his arms. He didn’t squeeze too hard, Lucifer wasn’t lying when he said the tissue on his chest was tender.
“Right well, if that’s all, you’re dismissed!” Lucifer said with a dramatic flare. Alastor wasn’t sure if it was intended to be comedic or if he was centuries overdue on how to present royal commands.
“Whatever you wish, your majesty,” Alastor said with the straightest face he could muster while having a grin spread across his face. He made his way to the circus tent door and before he left, he turned his head around.
“You should give Charolette some more credit. She has a bright head on her shoulders, and people who care about her.”
Lucifer’s face twinged with confusion before it landed on gratitude. Score.
“You know that’s not her birth name, right?” Lucifer asked.
Alastor shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Now I do.”
Then he made his exit.
____________
Alastor took stock of the keys behind the counter. They had booked half of their rooms for the night, with over half of which were long-term stays. A vast improvement from the month prior. He had to question whether the overall IQ of the Pride ring was plummeting.
The hotel so far had a 50% success rate. One guest had been redeemed by accident, and one had willingly chosen to leave after spying on the hotel for who knows how long.
Upon retrospection, Alastor had to admit Angel Dust had been the prime candidate for a spy. Alastor never paid much attention to the overly-flirtatious spider-fellow, having a particular aversion to being the subject of Angel’s comments. His spy work had gone completely under his nose and the more Alastor thought about it, the more frustrated he got. He would have to double down on his vigilance, even around the hotel staff.
On redemption, he did initially deem it impossible, but leave it to an over ambitious nephilim and a cowardly snake demon to prove him wrong. Everyone now knew the hotel had a sliver of success and they thought maybe they too would be the lucky winner.
Lucifer had been of a similar disposition, viewing sinners as trash and filth that had no chance. Though it would seem that he changed his mind after witnessing Charlie’s determination. Alastor agreed that most sinners were trash, but it looked like Lucifer would soon need a reminder of why he was king of this trash pile.
Of those seeking refuge at the hotel, he guessed most of them did not have a chance at redemption. Perhaps it wasn’t even their fault, but the system at large. Still no one knew what exactly was the key to redemption. Least of all Charlie, who had made a fool of herself trying to figure it out on live television.
Not that it was a concern of his. He knew redemption was not for him and he quite enjoyed his time in hell.
He stepped away from the front desk and looked up at the lobby chandelier. He thought to swap it out soon before it got boring. Perhaps one that changed colors?
“Hiya boss!” A high-pitched voice sounded from behind him, grabbing his pant leg. He whirled around and greeted his dear friend with a wave.
“My dear, Niffty!” Alastor exclaimed. “I was just looking for you.”
“Really?!” She asked. “What do you need? Did you see a rat? He only got away from me because I let him-”
“No dear! I require a favor from you and Husker.”
“Oh! Sure! I love doing favors. Let’s go see him.”
She then crawled up his body and took a seat on his right shoulder. Though it momentarily sent a shiver down his spine, it was completely fine solely because it was Niffty.
As he walked them over to the bar, he asked, “Having fun lately?”
“Oh yeah, tons! There’s way more people, which means so many messes, which means I’m busy all the time. I’ve begun to collect trinkets to remember our guests by. Hair, scales, vials of fluids. It’s awesome!”
“Isn’t that amazing. As long as you’re having fun.” After all, who was Alastor to judge Niffty’s unsavory hobbies, especially when she was such a willing help.
They found Husker at the bar which was expectedly slow, given it was still early in the day. Granted, there were still a few sinners who found themselves downing a glass at this unholy hour.
“Husk!” Niffty shouted, jumping off of Alastor’s shoulder and landing on the bar. He grumbled at their appearance and rolled his eyes.
“Off the bar, Niff. You know better,” he said while cleaning out a glass. His voice had none of its usual grit to it, which made it much less fun to mess with him. It had been like that ever since Angel Dust left the hotel.
Niffty hopped off the bar and onto a barstool. “You okay?”
“I’m fine just- What do you want?” He asked, turning to face Alastor.
“I require a task of you two. I would like you to keep an eye on the king and his doings around the hotel when I am not around, and report them back to me.”
Alastor was good enough to glean information off Lucifer face-to-face, but perhaps the most useful information would come from when he thought no one was watching and Alastor’s presence could not be detected.
“Oo spying on the royal bad boy! I like it!” Niffty chuckled to herself.
“Are you shittin’ me?” Husk slammed the glass down on the bar. “Angel’s gone because he was spying on us against his will, and now you wanna ask me to be a spy? Have you got no shame?”
“My friend, I haven’t felt anything as useless as shame since my time on earth.” Alastor said, eyes turning to radio dials and demonic energy emanating off his form. He had no care for Angel Dust, but he had noted that he and Husker had gotten closer than expected.
“I’m not doing it. You can tear my soul apart if you want, but then you can explain to Charlie why I’m missing.” He crossed his arms.
Alastor tightened his smile. If Charlie got mad at him, her father would become mad at him, and that would be counterintuitive to his whole plan. It seemed he would need to sweeten the deal.
“If I were to, I don’t know, bring Angel back to the hotel unharmed, would that soften your tune?” Alastor tapped his chin.
Husker’s eyes widened and a shattering sound could be heard as he dropped the glass. Niffty’s eye also widened slightly and she put her face in her hands, awaiting Husker’s response.
“You motherfucker. I can’t believe you’re actually leveraging him over me.” He gritted out.
“Is it working?” Alastor kept a casual tone.
Husker’s face remained consumed by anger for no more than ten seconds before it turned sad and defeated, looking down.
“You can bring him back unharmed?” He asked in a low voice.
“Without a scratch.” Alastor assured.
“Then fine, I’ll be your little watchdog.”
“Lovely.” Alastor clasped his hands together.
“I want a deal too!” Niffty pouted. “What’s in it for me?”
Alastor sighed and patted her head. She wouldn’t be hard to please.
“My dear, I have a music box with a dancing cockroach for you if you wish,” he said with a dramatic flourish. Her face lit up like he had offered her the stars.
“Deal!” She stood up on the cracking leather stool and offered Alastor her hand. He offered her his index finger and she eagerly grabbed it, shaking it up and down. Alastor’s green magic glowed and swirled around them, and as fast as it appeared, it was gone.
Alastor then put his hand behind his back, summoned the music box, and held it out in the palm of his hand. Niffty snatched it up and shook it like a present on her birthday. Husker shook his head, staring at her with astonishment.
“I’ll go ask Baxter if he’ll help too!” She gleamed, ready to propel herself off the stool.
“Ah ah,” Alastor tsked and held out his finger. “No one else should know about this deal of ours, yes?”
Alastor knew far too little about Niffty’s new friend to trust him. Yes, he assisted in stopping Vincent’s tirade, and learning that he was the one who muted Vincent was the highlight of his week, but he worked for VoxTek for a long time before that. The less loose variables, the better.
Niffty looked downtrodden for only a second before she perked up again. “A secret mission. Got it!”
Alastor gave her a nod. He then held his hand out to Husker expectantly.
“Why are you interested in the king anyway?” Husker asked. Alastor scowled at him.
“That is for me to know, and you to not worry your fuzzy head about.” He replied resolutely.
“If he gains the sudden ability to smite us all, I was never a part of this.” Husker then extended his hand and shook Alastor’s just once. A flash of green magic, and the deal was sealed.
“Well,” Alastor exclaimed. “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, my dear friends. It would appear I have to gather a missing guest. As the host, this will be done most promptly.”
He offered them a curt wave and then made his way out of the lobby.