Chapter Text
He’d been alone for too long. The realisation was sudden, harsh, enough to make him scowl. He’d never wanted to depend on other people, but a part of him had always needed to be admired. Wanted. Needed. It wasn’t until his failure that Vox realised how much his connections had meant to him. But now Valentino claimed that he didn’t know Vox, and he and Velvette acted as if the TV demon barely existed. Every day felt more isolated. The only person who acknowledged him was Angel Dust, and Vox knew he had no right to ask for his friendship. He’d burned that bridge long ago by going along with Valentino’s plans. Still, he couldn’t keep himself from feeling jealous every time Angel left the studio to return to the hotel. He couldn’t stop the sour taste every time he thought about Angel happily with his friends, with Alastor. His Alastor. Even after their falling out, after Alastor had called him weak and pathetic, he couldn’t help but wish they were still close. Wish they had become partners as overlords, and maybe partners in another way.
As he watched Angel about the leave for the day, he couldn’t stop himself from flagging him down.
“Angel, I need a favour.” Vox spoke in a hushed voice.
“You… Need a favour? From me? What’re you playing at?” Angel Dust stared at him sceptically.
Vox pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and passed it over to Angel Dust. “I need you to give this to Alastor. Just… make sure he reads it. Don’t let him rip it up or burn it or whatever.”
“Um… okay.” Angel Dust pocketed the letter. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Vox.”
“Yeah… see you tomorrow.” Vox turned to return to his floor, knowing there would be no tomorrow. He would never see Angel Dust, or Valentino, or Velvette ever again. He would never see Alastor again, not that Alastor wanted to see him anyway,
He closed the door behind him, making sure it had locked properly. The last thing he needed was someone catching him, turning him into more of a disgrace. He reached under his bed, digging around for a minute before finding his stash. Held in his hands were a box of sedatives and an angelic blade. Just the things he needed to ensure he would never wake up again. He downed the pills in one go and took a deep breath. There was no going back now. With shaky hands, he lifted the blade, dragging it across the skin of his arms. It hurt more than anything he had felt ever, but it was also oddly soothing. His brain felt clear for the first time in weeks, and he allowed himself to lift the blade higher, aiming it directly towards his head. It would all be over so soon.
“Hey Al!” Angel Dust sauntered into the hotel, waving the piece of paper above his head.
“What have you got there?” Alastor’s eyes narrowed with curiosity.
“It’s for you! I’ve been instructed to make sure you read it.”
“Very well.” Alastor took the letter, fully expecting some gross threats or fan mail. What he didn’t expect to see was shaky, but very clearly Vox’s handwriting. Alastor went to set it down, but was met with a stern look from Angel Dust. Sighing, Alastor began to read.
Hey Al,
Been a while since I called you that, huh? I wanted to leave something behind, a final message to the most important person in my life.
Alastor froze. This did not sound like the Vox he had interacted with as of late. It sounded like the Vox from that night. And final? Whatever did he mean by final?
I understand that this will mean nothing to you. I don’t think I mean anything to anyone anymore. I just wanted my last words to mean something to me. Even though I know you could never feel anything for me, I never stopped feeling for you. You were my best friend, and I always wanted us to be more than that. The love I have felt for you has torn me up inside for years. As cowardly as it is, I don’t think I ever would have been able to admit it to your face. I guess I am as weak and desperate as you said. I just wanted you to know that. Goodbye Alastor, and good luck with everything. I hope there’s nothing that comes after Hell, but if there is, I’ll meet you there.
Love,
Vincent
“Angel Dust, what is this?” Alastor asked, not able to keep a sliver of panic out of his tone.
“I dunno,” Angel shrugged. “He just gave it to me. Said you had to read it.”
“Was he behaving oddly?”
“He’s Vox,” Angel laughed, creating a rising anger inside Alastor. “He’s always weird. But I guess he was quieter than normal. And he never really talks to me unless Valentino forces him. But he and Val ain’t been talking recently.”
Alastor’s heart dropped. He hadn’t felt such intense anxiety, such intense anguish, since he was a human and his mother had passed away. If this letter was any indication, he was about to lose the only other person he’d ever cared about, ever had a genuine connection with.
“I’m going out,” He spoke briskly, brushing past Angel Dust. “If Charlie asks, tell her we may be expecting a new guest.” With that, he disappeared into the shadows, moving as quickly as possible to get to Vox’s home.
Within an instant, he appeared outside of Vox’s door. He scanned the hallway, ensuring that there was no one around who would question him. Then, he raised his fist and knocked lightly on the door.
There was no response. Alastor’s usual smile faltered. This was not good. He knocked again.
There was no response.
Unable to contain himself, he used his powers to phase into the shadows of Vox’s room.
“Vincent?” He spoke, trying to keep some level of confidence, but his voice shook as he looked around the dark room. It was a mess. His eyes locked on a glow beside the bed.
Alastor approached cautiously, his breath catching at the sight of Vox, unconscious and bloody on the floor, his screen partially cracked.
“Vincent!” He cried out, dropping beside Vox and shaking his shoulder, perhaps less gently than he should have. Tears began to prickle in his eyes as he spotted the angelic blade and the empty bottle of pills on the floor. He had been too late.
A shaky breath from Vox caught his attention. His entire body was shuddering, and he began to glitch slightly. Whatever he had taken, his body was not reacting well to it. Alastor flipped him to his side, pulling him into his lap. There was only so much he could heal, even with his level of power. He’d never tried to heal angelic wounds before… but if there was a time to try, this was it.
He lifted his hands over Vox’s wounds, trying to focus all his power on stopping the bleeding. The wounds shrank, but only slightly and Alastor began to feel himself shake from exhaustion. He nearly collapsed a second later, the use of so much power being too much.
“Please, Vincent…” He pleaded, watching as the bleeding slowed, along with Vox’s breathing. “I need you. I’ve always needed you.”
Alastor watched hopelessly as Vox’s breathing became shallower- until miraculously, he noticed the wounds becoming smaller and smaller, before they were just… gone. A delayed reaction, but his healing had worked. He pulled Vox closer, worrying about how long he had before the pills killed him just as easily.
He had to get them back to the hotel. He knew Angel Dust didn’t like Vox, but he had the most experience with overdosing, and frankly, Alastor did not give a shit what he thought. His Vincent needed help. The realisation hit him like a sack of bricks. For the first time, he knew that he loved Vox. The feeling had always been there, ever since they met. Alastor had just been too self-absorbed to think about it. Too worried about maintaining his power over Hell. Too worried about rising higher than everyone else.
But now… he wasn’t sure he cared all that much anymore. What would be the point of staying in Hell if he didn’t have Vox around? Their friendship, and later their rivalry, had fueled something inside him. Something he had never felt before.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he stood, carrying Vox as carefully as he could in his arms. Using the last of his energy, he teleported through the shadows, focusing on keeping Vox with him.
He landed in the common area of the hotel, his knees buckling as soon as he arrived. With a loud crash, he and Vox hit the ground. The world was spinning around Alastor and he could barely make out the shape of figures processing.
“Goddamn Alastor, did you just kidnap Vox?” Husk’s rough voice sounded from beside him.
“What the hell happened?” Vaggie demanded.
“Need help… Tried to kill himself… Hurt…” Alastor tried to gasp out as the world became darker. Without warning, he tipped over, unconscious, causing the others to jump.
“Shit! Husk, go get Charlie. Maybe Angel Dust too. Fuck it, just get everyone.” Vaggie commanded, kneeling beside the fallen overlords.
Husk ran off, yelling for the other residents throughout the halls. As Vaggie inspected the two, she knew Alastor had not been kidding. Mostly healed cuts decorated Vox’s arms, his screen was broken, and he was taking on a very sickly appearance. On the other hand, Alastor looked the worst she had ever seen him. The fact that he had collapsed implied a massive use of power.
“What happened?” Charlie ran into the room, panicking. Lucifer and Angel Dust followed close behind, the latter freezing at the scene.
“Alastor said something about Vox trying to kill himself, and then just collapsed! I don’t know what to do with them!” Vaggie panicked.
“Dad, can you get Alastor back up to his room?” Charlie asked. “It looks like he needs to rest. The rest of us can figure out how to help Vox.”
Lucifer nodded, lifting Alastor carefully and removing him from the room. With Alastor out of the way, Charlie helped Vaggie lay Vox down more comfortable on the floor.
“What do we do?” Vaggie asked Charlie.
“I don’t know… but it looks like his wounds are mostly healed. He’ll need a new screen at some point, but for now we need bandages. I don’t understand why he looks so sick though…”
“He overdosed.” Angel Dust said quietly from behind them. “It’s easy enough to tell with the way he’s shaking and unconscious. I betcha that if he was awake, he would be throwing up everywhere.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“I dunno… usually can’t do much unless ya know what he took. I think we just gotta hope that he pulls through, and I got some shit to help with the aftermath if he wakes up.”
“Okay…” Charlie looked disheartened. “I suppose we should get him a room then.”
The three worked together to transport Vox to a room on the first floor, easy enough to access that they could all keep an eye on him. Once he was settled in, they set up shifts to watch him, starting with Angel Dust.
As Vaggie and Charlie left the room, Vaggie began to wonder aloud. “What I don’t understand is why he’s here… Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather he didn’t die, but he and Alastor hate each other. Why would Alastor risk everything to bring him back here?”
“I think there’s more to the story than we know…”