Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The clouds hung thick and low, blanketing the sky in an unbroken expanse of gray. She pressed her forehead to the window, watching numbly as the heavens themselves seemed to merge seamlessly with the landscape, as if the color palette of the world had been washed with muted tones. A strange, ethereal light seemed to blanket the area, forcing even the most vibrant colors to appear subdued at best.

The quiet pitter-patter of raindrops seemed to be the only noise this gray expanse seemed capable of making. There wasn’t a single howl of wind or boom of thunder. Even lightning seemed to refuse to crest the sky. Sighing softly, porcelain fingertips pressed into the window, leaving small smudges of fingerprints that did nothing to break up the dark landscape around them.

“Ugh, really? More rain?” her father asked, tapping alabaster fingers against the steering wheel. “You’d think God or whoever would want to spread it around a bit more? I’m sure there’s a fire somewhere in California that could use some of this water.”

“If only Heaven had you to make such logical suggestions,” the man in the passenger seat said cheerfully. “But no, instead we have teeth that only grow back once and horrible autoimmune diseases.” He shook his head. “It’s the Pacific Northwest, Starlight. Rain is a given.”

“Rain was a given in New Orleans too, but it didn’t last all day like this!” They hit a bump in the road, causing the car to jump up much higher than expected, rattling the suitcases in the back. “Shit!”

“Language, dearest,” her step-father said, voice strained. She watched as one dark tan hand moved from the red-topped cane laying at his side to his left knee, massaging it with a groan. Her stomach twisted itself into knots, a heavy weight settling on her shoulders as she watched those long fingers twist and and press in a futile attempt to relieve the pain.

“Whoops, sorry kiddo!” A pair of sky blue eyes glanced at her via the rearview mirror, the once-cheerful twinkle inside them long dimmed. “Uh… follow our examples unless we’re swearing, okay? Swearing is very bad!” He swore once again as they hit another bump, this time jostling her step-father so much that he actually hissed in pain. “Um… ignore that one too.”

The 150-year-old building sat at the very edge of town, on top of a tall hill with a winding road leading up to it. Behind it sat a huge forest that seemed to stretch on forever. It was the only spot of color, a splash of red and black against the endless backdrop of gray. It was quite faded, like a ghost haunting the top of the hill; no doubt, it was beautiful and vibrant a century ago. Oh, but there was still something about it that was enchanting. With its many arched windows and soaring turrets, something deep inside of her sparked and leaped high. What secrets did those windows and turrets hold? What wonderful things could she find in this new place? The very thought sent her pulse racing, her thrumming with unbridled excitement.

What sort of adventure could she have here?

Her father parked the car and upon hopping out immediately ran to her door, sliding on a little mud on the way. Her step-father let out a snort and he too exited the car, leaning against the door for support as he searched for some steady ground with his cane. When her father opened her door and undid her (grown-up!!) seatbelt for her, she wrinkled her nose.

“Dad! I’m not five!”

Her father laughed and winked one sky blue eye. “No, but you are a little lady. And I need to apologize to you somehow after threatening your life with my swearing. Twice.”

“I think the only thing threatening her was your driving, Lucifer,” her step-father had by now managed to get himself out of the car, stretching to his full tall, tall, tall height. He shot a small sneer her father’s way before walking over to the trunk, limping the entire way. Her gaze followed him, stomach somehow managing to twist even more. He was so much slower now. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“Not with that bum knee you’re not,” Lucifer said. He stepped away to allow her to climb out of the car, then quickly walked over to the already open trunk, once again slipping on mud along the way. “And gimme that. Doctor said minimal weight bearing and those things are precious!”

“Give you what? This?” Another smirk as he held up the small box labeled “Morningstar Duck Collection #3” with one hand. “Sorry, I can’t hear you from down there. You’ll need to speak up.”

“Alastor!” her father jumped for the box, which Alastor simply held aloft over his head, grinning down at the man from behind black-rimmed spectacles. “This isn’t funny! Put it down!”

She giggled at the sight, slinging her backpack over her shoulders. Her little noise seemed to remind her step-father of her presence, a dangerous and mischievous glint appearing in his eye as her own periwinkles met his deep browns. Without another word, he bent the arm holding the box.

“Catch, Charlie!” He threw it underhand, sailing it past Lucifer’s head like it wasn’t even there. Charlie grinned as she caught it, then immediately turned on her heel and booked it into the house. Her father’s shout of protest sounded behind her, followed by the slip of a boot on mud, then another swear as Lucifer’s bottom hit the ground hard. Alastor’s almost maniacal laughter split the air.

Dusty floorboards creaked under her feet as she entered the house, coughing a bit as she inhaled the musty stench of old wallpaper and well-aged wood. Vintage wallpaper adorned the walls, somehow retaining the swirling, floral patterns of a bygone era. Cobweb-covered chandeliers lined the ceiling above with matching ornate sconces mounted on the walls. The well-worn wood groaned softly with her every step, as though the house itself was murmuring to her the further she ventured in. In front of her stood the hallway that led to numerous rooms in the house. She recalled her father mentioning there was a kitchen, parlor, study, dining room, living room, and drawing room all downstairs. She glanced to the door on her right, wondering where that one led. Her fingers itched to grasp the knob, and-

Footsteps behind her. She turned around to face her fathers, who were carrying practically the whole car in one trip. Well, at least, a very flushed and very mud-covered Lucifer was. The stack of boxes he held was so tall that was nearly double his height. He quickly rushed in and dropped the enormous stack, wincing slightly as something within those boxes shattered. Alastor came in next, leaning on his cane as he carried two backpacks up the little stairs to the threshold of their new home. He dropped them right at the entrance, ever-present smile dimming slightly as no doubt another shot of pain went through him.

“Wow!” Lucifer said as he popped his back and looked around, blue eyes taking in everything from the peeling wallpaper to the cobwebbed chandeliers. “This place sure looks, uh…” One of the wall sconces suddenly popped off the wall, now precariously hanging by a single nail. “Uh-huh…” He tapped the floor with his heel, causing it to squeak precariously. “It’s got a lot of character!”

“I’m sure it’s nothing some tacky circus decor couldn’t fix,” Alastor said cheerfully, earning a glare from her father. “Oh wait, I think I forgot to pack any.”

“You are so lucky I have full custody of Charlie,” Lucifer muttered as he grabbed a few boxes and quickly brushed past the two. “Otherwise, the movers might come in and find they’ll need to figure out a spot to stick you when I turn you into a literal beanpole.”

“You’ll have to reach the top of my head first before there will be any beanpole making,” Alastor countered, sending a grin Charlie’s way. She grinned back hesitantly, only for her smile to slide off again as soon as he turned his back and bent down at the waist to pick up the backpacks. Mom used to always say to bend at the knees and use your legs to pick up heavy things. That way, it would help prevent a bad back in the future. But now Alastor has a bad knee. He would have to do this until his knee recovered. If it ever recovered. What if he got a bad back on top of a bad knee?

She watched and listened to the gentle rhythmic tap of Alastor’s cane as he moved towards the grand staircase, using a combination of his cane and the ornate bannister to help him up the stairs one at a time. He was still smiling, but it was strained, the lines in his brow and at the corners of his jaw sharp and tense. One eye was twitching ever so slightly. God, why had he refused to take the pain medicine? The doctor said it was okay, right? He should take it and be in less pain!

“The movers are here!” Lucifer said cheerfully as he quickly walked past her, one hand ruffling her golden locks. “Let’s get a move on, kiddo!”

Oh yeah, she still had to unpack. The old house stirred with activity as a flurry of movers flooded through the doors, a somewhat chaotic cacophony of movement and noise. They moved with a uniformed precision that sent her mind spiraling somewhat in uncertainty, her unfamiliar home now resonating with the sounds of foreign voices and the persistent tapping of boots. She leaped back, trying her best to stay out of the way as numerous boxes and pieces of furniture suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere. Every now and then, her father’s tenor would hum over the noise, barking orders and telling them to stay away from this and that. Her mind and ears clung onto that familiarity like a lifeline.

It was starting to get too much. It was as though the very essence of the once-solid wood and metal of the house had taken on a strange, transient quality. The flurry of people she didn’t know combined with the already imposing unfamiliarity of the house was pressing down on her like a weight. She hesitated, then grabbed her backpack and quickly ran up the stairs.

She found a room easily enough, one with a cozy little reading nook featuring a beautiful arched window with a stained glass pattern featuring dragonflies. It was beautiful, with delicate wings crafted from a whorl of a million different colors, highlighted with emerald green, sapphire blue, and amethyst perfect hues. It was frozen mid-flight, dancing amongst numerous lily pads that floated in a pool of lovely turquoise. She smiled as she touched the window, then looked around at her surroundings. 

The walls were likely once painted white, the paint now faded to a somewhat sickly yellow color - nothing that a bit of paint can’t fix! The ceiling was also uneven and cracking - that would be harder to fix, but not impossible. This room would fit a bed, nightstand, and dresser quite easily. The bookshelf built into the corner was also very cute. Without a single hesitation, she opened her backpack and started unpacking.

There was no bed in here yet to place her duck plush on, so she simply settled for putting it onto one of the bookshelves. Two wooden ducks - both hand-carved by her father - found their way onto one of the higher shelves. She laid a few packets of garden seeds on the window sill, followed by a framed photo of her and her fathers. It was taken during their wedding - Alastor had tried to use a blade to cut open a bottle of champagne and while successful, had ended up accidentally spraying the bubbly drink all over Lucifer. Charlie, who had only been six or seven back then, had tried to protect her father by jumping in the way of the spray. The photographer had captured a picture of all three of them laughing.

The last photo she placed on the windowsill was a simple portrait of a beautiful woman with hair the color of a sunset and bright periwinkle eyes - eyes that were a very close match to Charlie’s own. She used to have visitation with her mother at least once a month, though that had begun to peter out once Lilith had moved to San Diego while Charlie and Lucifer started life anew in New Orleans. They still exchanged letters frequently and Lilith always made sure to fly over for Christmas and Charlie’s birthday every single year. Now that they were on the same side of the country, would they be able to see each other more often? Unable to help herself, Charlie smiled as a tiny bubble of hope welled up within her.

Maybe moving so far away wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She could still hear the movers downstairs. Well, no time like the present to start familiarizing herself with the unfamiliar. As soon as she was satisfied with the placement of her favorite items, she set out on a small adventure to see what secrets this new home held. 

There were… five rooms on this second floor. In addition to her own room and bathroom, she found a master bed and bath, a guest room and bath, a library with no books on its shelves, and what looked like some sort of office that was completely empty. No doubt, Al would probably claim this for his recording studio. With nothing else to do, she slipped downstairs again, shuffling past all the movers until she could escape past the kitchen (where Lucifer was bemoaning the loss of a duck-shaped cookie jar) and parlor towards the front of the house, where she had spotted the door to the right of the entrance leading to what she could only assume was the drawing room. It would be perfect for her dad’s workshop! Or maybe some sort of extra studio for Al? Or who knows, maybe she could lay claim to it like the princess her father was always telling her she was and turn it into a mini zoo?

She entered the room in excitement, ready to start planning the layout of her zoo. Unfortunately, she found that Alastor already seemed to be laying claim to it, unpacking the backpacks and putting things on some of the shelves scattered around. He looked over his shoulder as she entered, smile widening just a bit. He finished placing a duck in a top hat on one of the shelves before turning around and walking over to her, the hesitant tap of his cane on the floorboards kicking up tiny clouds of dust as he moved.

“Firefly, you look like you’re either trying to escape a stampede or break into one of our neighbors’ homes.” Despite the… odd words, his tone remained cheery and gentle. “Unfortunately, I can only legally help with one of those. I’ll keep your father distracted, then you can take my umbrella! You’ll want to start with the man upstairs - I hear he keeps an army of mice at his disposal and it’s always good to make sure that the old ladies in the basement don’t get any backup from him.”

She let out a laugh at that, shaking her head. “No! I’m just trying to find stuff to do. Dad’s downstairs bossing people around and, well…”

“You don’t want to get in his way,” Al finished. “I understand. If there is just one thing I’ve learned about you Morningstars over the years, it’s that you will all happily bite off my head if it ever got in your way.” Then, a small tinge of mischief in his voice. “That’s why I like your father. His mouth can’t reach my head without help.”

She giggled again, now moving and looking around. Aside from the floating bookshelves lining the wall, there wasn’t much to the place aside from a fireplace on one wall with a… slightly disturbing painting of a little girl with large eyes and fiery red hair proudly holding up a large dung beetle. She was definitely going to make sure one of her dads hid that picture; it was sort of creepy. On top of that, this room was just so… empty. Maybe once the movers brought those bits of furniture that they had inherited from Alastor’s mother in, this would look less like a random box with stuff hanging from it and more like a real room.

Her eye now traveled from the picture to the very outdated and peeling wallpaper, following it until- huh. That’s interesting. There seemed to be a tiny square-shaped object in the wall. She blinked as she walked past her step-father and knelt before it, reaching out to touch the square. It was definitely sticking out of the wall slightly, its simple frame blending into the intricate patterns around it. As she traced it, her hand eventually found just the tiniest little keyhole that had actually been papered over. Heart racing, she turned to face Alastor with wide eyes, the man raising an eyebrow at her expression.

“There’s a door here!”

Alastor tilted his head as he regarded her, dark eyes sliding towards the little door. “Is there now? I would hope so. Otherwise, how would we have gotten in this room in the first place?” He let out a small snort at his own joke.

Charlie rolled her eyes. “There’s another door in here, Al! A small one. She examined it closely, then tried to tug it open by grasping on the frame. It wouldn’t budge, of course. It clearly needed some sort of key.

Her step-father watched her struggle for just a bit longer before he turned back to look at the mantle of the fireplace, where a few snow globes were already haphazardly assembled. “Oh dear. Do I know something you don’t?”

Charlie straightened herself and turned to face him, cheeks puffed out in frustration. “What do you mean?”

The smile turned into a smirk. “Why, I think I do know something you don’t.” 

She knew this game. They had played it hundreds of times before. “What do you want, Al?”

A flash of mischief and some other emotion behind his eye. “What do I want? I wouldn’t ever be so selfish. No, I’m just suggesting a deal, Firefly! I might have found a key that might fit in your little door while checking the high shelves of the room. If you could arrange those snow globes in the proper Morningstar order and help me find a good spot to hide your father’s Halloween hat, I’ll see if I can find that key again.”

Charlie stuck out her tongue as she moved towards the snow globes. “It’s a deal! But we really have to hide that hat well, or else Dad’s gonna find it again and wear it when he drops me off at school. I really don’t want anyone else seeing it.”

The corners of Alastor’s eyes crinkled just a bit more. “Your father’s line of sight is thankfully quite limited. I think we’ll be able to find the perfect hiding place for it.”

She started with the snow globes first, arranging them in order of when they visited the place in question. She placed her favorite snow globe - the one featuring the soaring peak of Mount Fuji in Japan - at the center of the mantle. Her chest began to ache as she looked at it, a small lump forming in her throat. She had bought it while on a trip with her dear friends, Angel and Molly, and their families. God, where were they now? Were they alright? Did they miss her at all?

Next, she knelt down and pulled a hat box out of one of the backpacks, opening it to make sure that it was indeed her father’s hat. Yup, there it was: a big white top hat with a tacky apple decoration, a shiny gold crown, and a golden snake wrapping all around it. It was a piece of her father’s Halloween costume God knows how many years ago, but he had been obsessed with it since. Honestly, Charlie couldn’t even remember what costume it went with in the first place.

“Put it on the highest shelf you can,” she told Alastor as she handed him the hat. “So high that Dad will need like ten step stools just to see it!”

He let out a low laugh. “The ceilings here are too low for ten step stools, I’m afraid. But I can certainly do the highest shelf in this room.” With that, he carefully limped over to the high shelf just above the little door and placed it up there, easily hiding it from sight unless you were looking for it. He even rotated it slightly so the apple wouldn’t stand out as much, allowing the white and gold to fade into the tacky floral wallpaper behind it. Perfect. Now all they had to do was prevent Lucifer from coming in and helping them paint the room.

Her deal was done. Charlie stood up to her full height of 58 inches and held out her hand. “Key, please.”

Alastor laughed. Then he carefully walked over and bent at the waist, one hand moving towards her ear. “You certainly cash in on your deals quickly, don’t you? Very well, I’m a man of my word.” He reached behind her ear and pulled out a small, ornate black key out of seemingly nowhere, placing it in her tiny porcelain hand. It was a beautiful little thing, made of hard black steel with wings flanking either side of the head. At the center was an image of a large cat-like eye. Her fingers closed over it, a smile gracing her lips.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Morningstar,” she said cheerfully. Al, still bent at the waist, placed one hand on his chest and bowed just a little bit. “But you didn’t roll up your sleeves so I know you were just hiding it in them.”

“The pleasure is mine, Princess Morningstar,” he said. Then, he straightened, groaning a bit as he leaned on his cane. “Now… shall we see what secrets lie behind that door?”

Yes.

As she approached the door, a tiny flame began flickering in her chest. It began to grow bigger and bigger, igniting a subtle but palpable sense of anticipation that seemed to spread all over her body. The key seemed to hum and tingle in her hand as she reached out and placed it into the keyhole, turning it until she heard the familiar click of a door being unlocked. The wallpaper stretched ever so slightly as the door began to swing on its hinges, pressing up against it in an attempt to open up at last. Grinning eagerly, Charlie dug her fingernails into the wallpaper and ripped it apart, forcing it away to allow the door to open, and-

Bricks.

There were bricks covering every inch of the other side.

Disappointment flooded through her in a wave, causing her shoulders to slump as she stared at them. She didn’t know what she had expected - a secret room, perhaps, or a portal to another world. Maybe a little crawlspace where she could go through and pop out on the other side to scare her dad. But bricks? That was perhaps the most disappointing thing one could possibly find behind such an otherwise fascinating little door.

A warm hand on her shoulder snapped her from her thoughts. She sighed as she looked up at Al, whose own smile had dimmed somewhat too. 

“Well… disappointing, but not surprising. This was probably an entrance to another apartment or something that they bricked over at some point,” he shrugged. “Not an uncommon thing in houses as old as these. I’m sure your father would know more, considering his age.”

Alastor was only five years younger than her dad, but Charlie still smiled at the joke. Then, she turned to the set of bricks and frowned again. “Where does that door go?”

“Nowhere, Firefly,” Al answered.

She frowned further. “Well it has to go somewhere, right?”

Where was the adventure in all of this? With a shake of her head, she closed the little door. She would need to find adventure elsewhere, it seemed.

“Can I go outside?”

By this time, Alastor had already moved to the side and was rearranging a few items on the high shelves. At the sound of her request, however, he paused, one hand hovering in the air. When he turned to face her, his eyes were just a little bit hazy. The lines of his brow were furrowed, despite his smile. Speaking of which, said smile had now grown quite strained. It was too big and too bright, all but plastered on his face.

“Ah… I don’t see why not,” he paused, both hands coming down to rest on his cane. “I… think your father and I would prefer it if you just stayed in the garden for now until we all become a bit more accustomed to this place… For your safety.”

The unspoken words hung in the air as Charlie’s gaze slid from his face to the hands resting atop his cane to the knee that had been giving him so much trouble. It was her fault. Her fault he was like this. She had been stupid and sloppy. She had hurt the man her father loved the most, inflicted an injury that might never heal, and… she didn’t even know how much more damage she had caused. Hospitals were expensive, weren’t they? And she had heard whispers late at night about a surgery-

“Yeah, of course!” she said cheerfully. She ran in and quickly gave her step-father a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay in the garden and won’t go past the gate, promise!” Before Al could respond, she ran out of the room, passed her father in the kitchen (who was now making… something on the stove), grabbed her little yellow raincoat, and bolted out the door.

It was a truly desolate place, full of nothing but grays and browns and more grays. It stretched out before her like a melancholic painting, a testament of time and neglect. It was no doubt once vibrant and beautiful - she could see it in the way the long-dead vines seemed to curl towards the corpses of trees near its center - but had long fallen to the oppressive weight of decay. The skeletal remains of once-lush plants haunted her as she ventured out, periwinkle eyes scanning the area for something, anything that could bring joy to this desolation. But there was nothing - everything that was once colorful was dead, and everything that wasn’t dead wasn’t colorful. 

She would have to make her own adventure.

She found a bush that was still alive, the leaves painted various shades of dark green and gray. After some digging around, she came upon a branch that was the absolute perfect shape for a dowsing rod. She just needed to remove the leaves, and… there! A lovely Y-shaped stick for her to use. She grasped the two tops of the Y in her palms and closed her eyes, willing the mystical forces of the world to flow through her hands and into her dowsing rod. Once again, she felt the sparks of anticipation, the vibrations of excitement. Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Now this is where her adventure begins! Slowly, ever so slowly, she took one step forward. Then two. Then three, four, five, six-

“Ow! Watch it!”

She didn’t know how many steps she actually took, but it would seem that her dowsing rod had taken her up to the slightly open gate of the garden. When she opened her eyes, she gasped, jumping back slightly at the figure on the ground before her, just pass the quietly swinging gate. In front of her sat a… thing about her age, dressed in a dark blue coat with white stripes, ripped blue jeans, and brown work boots. On their head was a helmet of some sort - a metal thing with two large silver horns and a pair of red goggles. The left eye of this helmet was clearly cracked and duct-taped over, as though the owner were trying to mask that fact somehow. The creature’s hands, which were olive in color, rubbed at their chest.

Charlie watched as those olive hands reached up and tore off the helmet, revealing brown hair cut in a short bob and a round, open face. When the little girl - because there was no doubt in Charlie’s mind that this was a girl - turned to face her, Charlie blinked in surprise. The left eye was covered in an eyepatch, but the right? It was so pretty. It was a lovely hazel color and so very clear that the gray blanket of clouds above did absolutely nothing to dim its color. She was like a flower blooming in the middle of this miserable garden, and Charlie was absolutely spellbound.

“Ugh, that hurts,” the girl muttered, continuing to rub her chest. Charlie exhaled the breath she didn’t know she had been holding and held out her hand, face torn between a smile and a worried frown.

“I-I’m sorry! I should’ve been watching where I was going, and-”

“Yeah, you should’ve!” the girl snapped. Then, she groaned again and rubbed her chest some more. “S-Sorry, I was just… surprised. I-” She blinked, single eye widening a bit as she seemed to take Charlie in for the first time. “I… You’re a kid.”

Charlie frowned. “I’m so not a kid.”

The girl blinked. “You’re either a kid or a really short grown-up. And since you don’t have those dark circles under your eyes like all grown-ups do, you’re definitely a kid. How old are ya? Eight?”

Charlie crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. “I’m eleven, thanks.” Then, she straightened, put on her most dazzling smile, and held out her hand, just like Al and her mom had taught her. “I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar!”

The girl blinked slowly, then hesitantly reached out and grasped her hand. Her touch was warm and soft, but the shake was firm. “I’m… Vaggie. Vaggie Madrigal.”

That… was certainly an interesting name. Charlie tilted her head. “Vaggie?” Oh. The name rolled quite easily off her tongue. “Is that short for something?”

Vaggie pursed her lips. “Yeah. My parents wanted to fuse their names together to make my name. My dad’s name was Venturo and my mom’s was Agatha. So… Vagatha.” She scowled. “Only my abuela calls me that now though. So yeah. I’m Vaggie.”

Charlie was back to smiling again. “It’s nice to meet you, Vaggie!” She bent down, then picked up the heavy metal halmet and handed it back to her. “I’m sorry for bumping into you. I was-”

“Using a dowsing rod,” Vaggie said, a small quirk to her lips. 

Charlie blinked, periwinkles widening. “Oh! You know how to use one?”

“Might’ve done a bit back in the day when I was less experienced,” Vaggie said. She tapped her helmet. “But now I have this thing. It helps me find what I’m looking for without needing a dowsing rod.”

Charlie stared at the helmet in fascination. What amazing, mystical powers did it hold? “What do you look for?”

“Banana slugs,” Vaggie said, puffing out her chest. “This area has the biggest and best population of banana slugs out there. I’ve made it my job to document them all.”

Charlie squealed and clapped her hands. She didn’t fully know what a banana slug was, but if it was big and someone like Vaggie was interested in them, then surely they must’ve been fascinating creatures. “That sounds so awesome! Do you need help? Can I hunt with you?”

Before Vaggie could answer, they were interrupted by a loud yowl coming from the ground. Vaggie and Charlie looked down to see a rather curious looking cat winding its way around Vaggie’s feet. Its fur was mostly black in color, save for a white underbelly, white back feet, and a red-tipped tail. Its large yellow eyes shifted between Vaggie and Charlie. There seemed to be… something extra in those great eyes. A sort of intelligence not found in just any ordinary cat. When Charlie let out a small coo and reached out to pet it, it retreated slightly, pressing its body further into Vaggie’s legs.

“Oh, I guess I should introduce you to this weird cat too,” Vaggie said. “He hangs around here a lot for some reason. No one owns him. I’m guessing someone’s feeding him or something ‘cuz he won’t leave, but he’s also too skinny to be eating anything too often. Anyways, I named him Husk ‘cuz he looks more like a husk of a cat than a real cat.”

“Husk,” Charlie repeated cheerfully. She waved at the cat, who just narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Husk! I’m-”

“Charlie!” her father’s voice echoed over the garden. “Get back in here, kiddo! It’s dinner time!”

Dinner time meant more experiments being crammed down her throat. It was always roulette when Dad made dinner; either it would be completely amazing or it would cause both her and Al to be bent over the toilet for a few minutes. Normally, Alastor would actually be the one cooking, but ever since the accident… Well, Charlie didn’t want to think about it right now. Not when she was about to make a new friend.

“Will I see you again?” Charlie asked as Vaggie seemed to take it as her cue to leave. She tucked her helmet under her arm and turned away from the gate. “I’d love to go banana slug hunting with you!”

Vaggie looked over her shoulder with a small smile. “Sure. I’m not allowed to go past the garden gate, but there’s a whole forest to explore!”

Her words sent a small pang through Charlie’s chest, the tiniest tremor of disappointment. Her smile slowly slid from her face. “O-Oh… well, I-”

“Charlie! If you don’t come for dinner now, I’m gonna feed your portion to your dad!”

Oh Lord have mercy on Al’s stomach.

“I gotta go eat dinner,” Charlie said. She reached out and took Vaggie’s hand, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks as she squeezed it. “Come see me again soon, okay? It was awesome to meet you!”

She took a different path around the garden this time, this one with quite a few more sticks and stones in the way. Knowing that her poor step-father was about to face the worst trial of his life, she hastened her steps. At one point, she stepped onto some sort of gross, squishy brown mushroom, causing a foul-smelling stench to kick up. Ugh. These mushrooms were surrounding her right now in some sort of ring. She needed to get out of here, quickly. Thankfully, there were no more stinky mushrooms the rest of the way back into the house. She paused for just a moment to scrape the gunk off her boot on the mat before entering the kitchen.

Dinner was… odd, to say the least. Lucifer had decided tonight to experiment with gruyere cheese, which meant every dish was absolutely smothered in it. First off, neither Al nor Charlie had any idea how he managed to find any when none of them had been to an actual grocery store all morning. Did he somehow find this stuff in one of the random gas stations they stopped at? Charlie shuddered to think what else he might’ve picked up there. 

She didn’t really know what to call the mass of stuff in front of her. It was slimy and seemed to be a mishmash of wilted greens and mushy potatoes. Through the golden-brown layer of gruyere, she could sort of see what looked like irregularly cut bits and pieces of some sort of meat that looked more like jerky than actual meat. And were those apple slices at the bottom of all of this?

Dad seemed to be the only one capable of stomaching his own food, as he chewed and swallowed cheerfully while she and Alastor simply stared at their plates in silence. Charlie had given up after just a few bites of the mush, unable to bear the strange combination of blobby texture and overwhelming cheesiness. Alastor had actually managed to swallow about half of his portion, but now looked distinctly more ill than at the beginning of the meal. They exchanged looks, both clearly begging the other for help.

Alastor broke the silence first. “An excellent meal should be followed up by an excellent dessert, don’t you think, Charlie?”

Lucifer swallowed the large mouthful he had shoved in only moments before. “Awww! You think it’s excellent today? That’s-”

“I agree, Al!” Charlie said quickly. She pushed her plate away, praying that her dad hadn’t kept track of how large of a portion he gave her. “Thanks so much for the food, Dad! I’m totally stuffed-”

“Oh, you’re welcome! Wait, but it looks like you barely-”

“Charlie will help me with making the dessert,” Al said, pushing away his own plate. “You gave her such a large portion, dearest. She’ll need a little exercise to work it off so she has room for her apple crisp.”

They were making apple crisp for dessert? Charlie squealed happily as she jumped out of her seat. “Yeah! Let’s make apple crisp!”

She ran immediately for the pantry, searching for the ingredients that she and Al always kept on hand. She emerged with flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, sugar, old-fashioned oats, and some salt before placing them on the counter. Lucifer was already standing up and grabbing butter, lemon juice, and apples from the fridge.

“Looks like we’ll be having dessert without the salted caramel sauce today,” Lucifer said, a tiny tinge of disappointment in his smile as he looked over at Charlie. “Sorry, CharChar. I must’ve eaten it all.”

Alastor stood now. “Actually, I hid it on top of the cabinets just so you wouldn’t. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You are such a… buttface,” Lucifer shot back, grinning.

Her step-father grinned back and moved towards the cabinets. “I don’t pretend to be other-”

The tall, slim form of her stepfather collapsed, a curse falling from his lips as the cane clattered to the floor. Lucifer was at his side immediately, catching his husband before he could collapse completely. Alastor’s face was twisted in absolute excruciating pain, both hands flying down to grip his left shin and thigh. Silvery tears pooled at the corner of his eyes.

(“Charlie! Charlie, be careful!”)

(“Wait!”)

(“Watch out!”)

(“CHARLIE!”)

(“AL!”)

Pouring rain. The shrill scream of a car horn. Bright lights. Her body flying to the side, skidding across the ground. Pain in her knee as it split open. The tiny, slimy body in her hand nearly slipped from her grip.

Alastor’s glasses shattered on the ground.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear anything. Just the pounding of rain. The shattering of glass. Her step-father’s name screamed in a desperate, broken voice. She needed to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Inoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinout-

“I-I’m… not hungry anymore,” she whispered. The strange, blobby shapes in front of her moved and said things but she didn’t want them to move or talk. She wanted them to stop. She wanted the whole world to stop. “I… I’m tired. I’m gonna-” She didn’t finish her sentence. Her throat closed, strangling her, preventing any words from escaping.

She forced her feet to move and somehow, they moved upstairs to her room. Her bed was set up now, with her duck plush on top. Someone had thoughtfully hung her string of dragonfly decorations up above. There were fairy lights now too, a new addition that she didn’t have time to stop and look at. Her photos had been moved from the window sill to her nightstand. She all but threw herself into bed, desperately willing her breath to still, her tears to stop flowing. Eventually, everything did stop for just a bit and she lay there, fingertips tingling as her head swam, the young girl desperately gripping at whatever fraying shreds of reality she still had.

“Charlie…?”

Her dad’s voice. She didn’t answer, too exhausted to move, too tired to speak. She couldn't face him. She didn’t want to face him. She wanted him to just go away.

“She’s asleep, Starlight. We should leave her be,” Alastor’s voice was soft yet strained, pain lacing through every word. “This is our first night here… moving homes is hard. Moving across the country is ten times more difficult.”

Her dad mumbled something back that she couldn’t really hear. How strange… it was almost… apologetic. Eventually, their footsteps moved away from the door and faded down the hallway, leaving her alone again. Trembling, she gripped the blanket tighter around her and buried her face into her duck plush. Slowly, ever so slowly, she felt herself drifting away.

Long, black, formless things slid out from the shadows, dancing around the light in her windows. They moved as one until they were all gathered together under the moon. They rose, waving in the air, staring at the moon with twinkling green eyes and sharp yellow fangs. And they were singing in high, whispering voices that chilled the very air around them and called to the darkness, the depth of the deepest tomb.

We are small but we are many

We are many we are small

We were here before you rose

We will be here when you fall.

Now the things were gone but the moon remained. Clouds quickly rolled over to cover the yellow light above. Down below, a single beam of light led her to the little green creature in the middle of the road. It made a noise, then hopped a bit further down. She laughed and ran after it.

The yellow light turned white. The rumble of an engine. The screech of tires on the mud.

She had to get that frog.

Golden hair flew through the air as blue-clad boots splashed through the mud. She just had to reach out and take it-

“CHARLIE!”

The blare of a horn, then-

Silence.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t raining the next day, but a thick blanket of fog had settled over the house. For some reason, it seemed to only make the gray, washed out tones of the world around her even worse. There was almost no color whatsoever now, the few splashes of green in the garden now enveloped in an endless cloud of white.

Charlie found her father surrounded by numerous boxes of blueprints, sketches, and his tools in the study. He had claimed this place as his makeshift office/workshop, quickly moving in every single box of his work-in-progresses into the room at a speed even Alastor hadn’t been able to comprehend. He was hard at work now fiddling with his drawing tablet, tongue sticking out slightly as he moved the pen back and forth. On the screen there was a sketch of a bird of some sort, with complicated mathematical equations surrounding every joint.

“Hey Dad,” she said cheerfully as she strode in. In celebration of today’s fog, she had already thrown on her yellow raincoat. Lucifer flinched a little bit, almost dropping his tablet as he looked over his shoulder, eyeing her throw silver half-moon glasses. The bags under his eyes were extra deep today, with dark circles only highlighting the exhaustion written all over his face.

“Oh! Heyyyy there, uh, Charlie,” he said, spinning the pen in his hand. “How’s it going, kiddo? Settle into your room okay?” Blue eyes searched her face, clearly wanting to say something dancing at the tip of his tongue. But soon enough, he seemed to decide against it and allowed his gaze to once again slip back to the screen in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, Dad,” she said with a small giggle. For a few moments, she watched him work in silence, quickly sketching out more features on the bird and some very complicated equations. Dimly, she remembered her mom mentioning how silly it was that her dad used a mechanical engineering degree to become a toymaker. How was her mom? Was she going to come visit soon?

“What are you working on?” she asked. Once again, her dad flinched and this time dropped his tablet pen. He cursed under his breath as he dived down and started searching the floor for it.

“Uh… a design. For a new toy,” he said simply, running one hand through platinum blonde locks. He searched and searched for a few more minutes before finally grabbing the pen and letting out a small sigh of relief. 

“What kind of new toy?”

“A bird toy.”

Well, she certainly wasn’t going to get anything good from him today. She tucked some hair behind her ear and leaned against the doorway, watching her father’s hand move feverishly over the tablet. Back forth. Back forth. Up down. Diagonal. More math. 

“Do you wanna go see if we can find a duck pond nearby?”

Her father froze at those words, fingers twitching as he seemed to grip the tablet pen even harder. Then, he let out a deep sigh and turned around. Somehow, in the few minutes since she had last fully seen his face, the dark circles under his eyes seemed to have worsened even more. Charlie shivered at the sight; it was as though her father had become possessed by some exhausted and malevolent spirit… or had just hadn’t had his coffee yet. One of those things.

“Charlie. Apple pie,” Lucifer said slowly, voice steady but with a strangled undercurrent of irritation lacing each word. “I’m sorry. I need to get this design and like twelve others done by the end of the week. I can’t let myself get distracted.” He looked up at her, regret flashing behind those dim blue eyes. “I promise, once this is all over, we’ll go out and find as many duck ponds as you’d like. We’ll even pack a picnic and do it. Hell, maybe we can reach out to your mom and she’ll wanna come along too. But for now just-” he let out a low groan, running one hand through his messy platinum locks. “Just… please. Let me work. I promise, I’m doing this all for us.”

She bit her lip. Then, her gaze slid to the floor. Right. She was just being a pest right now. Dad had to work hard for… reasons. Something she was sure had to do with her. He said he was doing this “for us.” “For us” in dad language usually meant her, him, and as of the last few years, Alastor. “For us” was when her sweet, playful dad became a serious, boring, no-fun workaholic. “For us” meant the family was in trouble. 

“For us” meant he was to be left alone.

Her thoughts must have shown in her face because she looked up at her father again, his entire face seemed to be scrunched up with some strange storm of emotions. Concern, yes. Sadness, yet. And… guilt. Yes, guilt was what she was looking for. It was a look that he hadn’t worn since getting remarried. In fact, the last time she saw it was when he had sat her down and said he wanted to propose to-

“Kiddo…” he glanced to the side where there was a slightly damp box. With a small sigh, he reached in and pulled out a strange looking object wrapped in a red and white checkered cloth. “I’m sorry, I-” he petered out, ending the thought with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to finish all of this as quick as I can. Until then, take this.” He rolled over and handed her the bundle with trembling hands. “Someone left it on the porch this morning. It’s for you.”

He returned to his work almost immediately after rolling back over to his desk. Numbness spread through her as she slowly backed out of his office and walked down the hall. Part of her had half a mind to go upstairs and see what Al was doing, but from the soft jazz floating echoing down the stairs, he was almost certainly in the middle of a broadcast. Maybe Vaggie was going to visit her today? She sure hoped so.

Small alabaster fingers quickly undid the cloth, revealing first a head of hair made of golden yarn, then a pair of black button eyes. The little ragdoll was dressed in a… shockingly matching yellow raincoat, complete with light red and white striped stockings and blue Wellingtons. The resemblance was uncanny. Charlie blinked in wonder, turning over the doll in her hands. So mesmerized was she by this little thing that she nearly missed the note pinned to the cloth.

Morningstar,

Found this while digging through my abuela’s trunk

Looks familiar, huh?

- V

“A mini me,” Charlie whispered in wonder, gently stroking the doll’s silk-soft hair. Those three words seemed to echo around the empty foyer, causing the walls to creak and lean in just a bit more, as though listening to her secrets. For a few moments, she stood there absolutely spellbound, staring wondrously at this beautiful and well-made doll. She hugged it to her chest as she walked out the back towards the gray, gray garden, the two of them a tiny spot of color on an otherwise dreary landscape.

She stopped when she saw the gate at the east of the garden, shoulders slumping when she saw her new friend wasn’t there waiting for her. Well, it was quite foggy out. Maybe her abuela for some reason didn’t want her to go. Charlie didn’t blame her; there was just something about this fog that seemed so much different than the rain. Whereas the rain was a soft, gentle rhythm, the fog was… nothing. There was no rhythm, no flow, no melody. Only an endless expanse of shapeless nothing.

She shivered while staring at the fog beyond the gate, her mind racing as she thought of a million different scenarios. Was there a monster lurking beyond the gate, hidden by the thick blanket of white? Or perhaps there was a witch’s ritual happening in the woods, the cauldron so full and thick that it had created this very fog? Oh! It had to be a demon of some sort. A horrible, hulking beast that lurked beyond, who lured children in the fog and consumed them body and soul, never allowing their parents to see even a glimpse of them again.

Mrow!

Charlie blinked and looked down at her feet. Oh, that weird cat was back. What was his name again? She searched her brain for a moment before grinning.

“Hi Husk!” she said cheerfully. The cat tilted his head in response. “Is Vaggie here with you? This seems like good banana slug weather!”

The cat, being a cat, said nothing in response. He merely lifted one paw and licked it before bounding off to the east, easily slipping through the bars of the gate. Charlie stared after him and sighed.

“I guess it’s just you and me, Mini Me.”

She spent the rest of the day trying to do everything she could to occupy herself. She first started by counting number of trees in the garden (8, all dead). Then the number of pots (18, also dead). She found some of those foul-smelling brown mushrooms again (13, all in a circle) and the number of windows (21). When she ran out of things to count outside, she went inside and counted the number of blue things in the house (187). She even found the hot water tank in the cupboard under the stairs.

As it began to near dinner time, she heard the door to Al’s recording studio open. This was followed by the unsteady, rapid taps of a cane down the steps. The bannister creaked and groaned as Al used his other hand to steady himself as he walked down. Charlie made a mental note to ask him later why he didn’t just take the downstairs study and Lucifer the upstairs one. 

More quick footsteps. It seemed like he was heading towards her father’s study. Charlie hid herself just out of sight in the kitchen, watching as her stepfather’s tall form passed her. After she saw her father open up the door of his study and let him in, she counted to twenty then tiptoed over to it and stood just outside the door frame. Thankfully, none of the squeaky wood creaked at all when she snuck over.

“-settlement?”

“No word yet,” her father answered. He sounded even more exhausted now than he had this morning. Had he taken a single break? Was he eating? Come to think of it, she hadn’t had a meal since the half of a banana she had found in the back of the fridge this morning. “I just don’t get it. It’s been so long…”

“These kinds of things take time, Star,” Al’s voice was low and bitter. It was the tone of voice he reserved for only when mentioning his father. “We just have to be patient.”

“Patient for how much longer?” Desperation colored her father’s words, anxiety lacing through his voice. “The hospital bill alone broke us. It… It just destroyed all of our savings. And of course, of course that idiot didn’t have insurance on him-”

“We’ll recover,” Alastor’s voice was firm, confident. But there was just the slightest hint of uncertainty, of a lie whispered between grinning teeth. “We have uninsured motorist coverage for a reason. And, well, Lilith recommend a very good lawyer-”

“Al…” That was her father’s hand-holding voice. He used it whenever he was grasping someone’s hands in both his own. “Treble Clef, you need that surgery. Your… whatever ligament won’t heal on its own. The doctor said-”

“It doesn’t matter what the doctor said, Starlight,” her step-father said quietly. That was his bending over voice. He used it whenever he needed to kneel or sit to be eye-level with Dad. “He’s not wrong, but we can’t afford it right now. We already lost one home because of everything that happened. I won’t have us lose another. We can’t put Firefly through that again.”

“I know. That’s why I’m working triple overtime. We’ll make the money, I know it. And then it’ll just… it’ll just bridge us until we can get the settlement money,” he let out a low, bitter laugh. “At least by moving here, we have a lower mortgage…”

Cold, hard, raw guilt curled in her gut. She clutched the ragdoll to her chest, lip trembling as ice cold numbness once again spread from her core all the way to her fingertips. They were here because Alastor needed surgery. Alastor needed surgery because of what happened. Al needed surgery because of her. It didn’t matter how many reassuring smiles and words he gave her. She knew; it was all her fault. They had dragged themselves all this way because it was all her fault.

When her father called her down for dinner that night, she didn’t answer. Instead, she placed the ragdoll on the chair beside her bed and buried herself under the covers. When Al came and checked on her, she closed her eyes and steadied her breaths until he limped out of the room. When her father came, same thing: she pretended to be asleep until he was gone as well. Eventually, they finally left her alone. Eventually, she finally began to drift away, headlights flooding her vision as she fell into a restless-

She was awake again.

There was something in her room. It was… tittering in a small, cute little voice. Blinking, she sat up, watching as a small, cute, round little thing hopped out her door. What was that? Where was it going? Part of her said that it was nothing, that she was merely hallucinating and should just go back asleep. But the other?

Well, nothing like a late night adventure.

She reached over and picked up the black key from the drawing room, the metal sitting cold and heavy in her hand. Without a single hesitation, she hopped out of bed in her light red and white polka-dotted pajamas and followed the little round thing out of her room. It bounced from corner to corner, leaping eagerly down the stairs. Soon, it brought her before the door to the drawing room and easily slipped inside.

She didn’t know what made her do it, but she walked into the drawing room, past all of the furniture they had inherited from Alastor’s mother, and headed straight for the little door. It felt… different now. Alive, almost. It seemed to whisper to her, tugging at her soul, slowly drawing her in. The faintest green glow seemed to outline it. It was… beautiful. So, so beautiful.

She inserted the key and turned it smoothly, listening as the lock undid itself with a small and satisfying click. She paused for a moment and listened, straining her ears for any sound of soft footsteps or the gentle tap of a cane. Dad liked wearing duck slippers at night. As a child, it had made it extremely hard to keep an ear out for him when she was misbehaving at night. Once she was sure that there was no one coming, she reached out and opened the door.

A dark hallway greeted her, the bricks having disappeared as though they had never existed. A breeze blew through it, carrying with it a cold, musty smell that was quite similar and yet very different from the rest of the house. In her mind, she imagined a great lumbering creature, very ancient and very slow. Perhaps it had just eaten a good meal and was ready for a nap. 

Well, she certainly wasn’t.

She crawled through the door and along the corridor uneasily. It was soft beneath her touch. Almost like carpet, except somehow different as well. It seemed to undulate and mold into different shapes each time she lifted her hands and placed them down again. After a few moments of crawling, she finally reached a little door on the other side, one that was very similar to her own. Without hesitation, she gently pressed on it, emerging into the room on the other side.

The room she entered was identical to the one she had left, yet different at the same time. It had the same furniture, same fireplace, even the same snow globes on the mantle. Just above the mantle was that painting of the fiery-haired girl proudly holding… an ice cream? Charlie tilted her head as she squinted at the painting, her mind searching for what seemed off about it. It was definitely what she was holding, but also something about the eyes. Charlie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She seemed very… enthusiastic about the ice cream, but not nearly as enthusiastic as she had been in the painting at… home? Was this home? Was that home? What could she even call this place?

A sweet, yet spicy scent caught her attention next. She sniffed the air, inhaling a rich mixture of spices, sauteed vegetables, and smokey meat. This was a smell she had missed very much; it wafted down the streets of New Orleans on a hot summer’s night, danced across her nose whenever Alastor cooked, and seemed to always bring a new sense of life in her fathers when they sat down and ate it together.

“Jambalaya,” she whispered to herself as she turned around, noting light coming from the kitchen. Was Dad up cooking? Did he finally give up on experimenting and allow himself to make something that reminded them more of home? Automatically, her feet moved her towards the area, her mind only dimly noting that for some odd reason, the tacky vintage wallpaper looked perhaps a bit less tacky and more put together than before.

The kitchen she entered was the same and yet somehow different. It was a warm, beautiful place with colorful crockery lining the walls and cheerful curtains lining the windows. An equally colorful lamp shade hung above the little kitchen table, casting a warm glow all around the room. It was a beautiful, dynamic use of space, something that Charlie had sorely missed from their home in New Orleans. The longer she looked, the longer she listened; was there a radio somewhere? There was an upbeat, jaunty little tune playing. Almost like some extremely cheerful jazzy swing music.

The tall figure standing at the stove dressed in black slacks and a red sports jacket was not her dad. He was Alastor. Well, at least, he seemed like Alastor. He looked very much like her step-father, except he was taller and thinner. His fingers never stopped moving between the pots and pans in front of him. And his cane… well, he didn’t have one. It was gone. She hadn’t seen Alastor not need his cane to stand since before everything happened.

“Charlie!”

When he turned around, Charlie’s jaw dropped. Her heart stuttered. Her breathing came in rapid pants. Those were buttons. Those were big black buttons instead of eyes. He had big black buttons instead of eyes and they were set over a wide, wide, wide grin. Charlie’s stomach clenched again as she took in the sight, hands trembling as she brought them up to her mouth. Should she scream? Should she run? Should she-

“What’s wrong, Lightning Bug?” he asked. He certainly sounded like her step-father, except his voice sounded like it was coming over an antique radio. “You look like you’re either trying to skip straight to dessert or trying to eat before your father gets to the food.” The corners of the… buttons crinkled as he smiled a bit wider. “Unfortunately, I can’t allow you to do either of those. Go get your dad.”

She hesitated, periwinkle eyes scanning the tall figure before her. “Who are you?”

“I’m your other father,” he answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Go and tell your other dad that dinner is ready.” He lifted the lid of the pot boiling on the stove and suddenly, Charlie remembered just how hungry she was. Sweet, spicy jambalaya was wafting up from the stove, accompanied by the amazing scent of freshly baked garlic something that rose from the oven as Other Alastor bent down to check on it. Once he closed the oven again, he looked back at her, those large black buttons glinting. Long fingers began tapping the edge of the stove. “Go on, dear. He’s in his study.”

Charlie blinked, then walked down the hall to where her father’s study was. The soft jazz playing over the old radio faded as she left the kitchen, to be replaced with… something else. Now she was hearing a solo on a stringed instrument of some sort, a beautiful tune that seemed to float through the air and tickle the walls around it. As she opened the door to the study, she paused to watch as the figure swathed in a comfortable looking yellow dressing gown and yellow duck slippers finished the lovely tune on the golden instrument held under his chin. He was sitting on top of what looked like a beautifully carved old-timey piano.

Black button eyes glinted cheerfully as the man who was her dad but distinctly not turned to face her. “Oh hey, Charlie! What’s going on?”

She hesitated as she entered the room, periwinkle eyes sweeping over it. Gone were the numerous boxes, sketches, blueprints, and half-finished toy designs. Now there were simply toys. Toys everywhere, from beautiful floating balloons that glowed a million different soft colors to lovely fluttering birds and whizzing pinwheels. Charlie had to stop on her way in to allow a wooden mother duck and a whole line of baby ducklings to cross per path, quacking cheerfully and releasing sparkles from their heads. More toys of all different shapes and sizes rolled over shelves, jumped on blocks, and flew past his head, a true wonderland of childish joy. Charlie stopped in front of this man - her other dad - and looked around amazed.

“What… What happened to this place? And since when did you know how to play the violin?”

“I happened to this place,” he said cheerfully, ducking as a plane whizzed by. He hopped off the piano and approached her. “Your other father got me the materials and, well, I just started creating!” he shrugged. “I made it all just for you. Do you like them?”

Charlie bent down low and picked up an adorable stuffed octopus with a large button for an eye. She smiled widely as its tentacles tickled her face. “I love them!”

Other Dad smiled back. “We- I mean, he knew you would. He knows you like the back of his hand.” He spun the instrument’s bow. “And this, Little Lady, is a fiddle. Let’s just say I learned it after your other father strung me up and had me practice so I could play something for you!”

“Play something for-”

Other Dad took a step back and used his heel to kick a nearby radio. Immediately, a cheerful circus-like tune came on. Other Dad shot her another smile as he started to sing.

Looks like you could use some help

From the big boss of home itself

Check out other father’s reviews on Yelp!

Other Dad hopped into his office chair and spun around the office as he sang, toys popping from every nook and cranny to dance around them. Charlie watched in awe as balloons, rockets, and fireworks spun around her head, as animals hopped out from nearby toy chests and danced around. A few jack-in-the-boxes nearby opened up, the rabbits inside grinning cheerfully as they sang along.

“Five stars!”

“Flawless!”

“Greater than great!”

A cart flew to her side, a strange little machine tapping away on top of it. When she reached out to touch it, a small burst of confetti burst from what looked like an intricate printer sitting next to it. She laughed as the confetti landed on her head, the intricate pattern of dots and lines dancing across her eyes.

-- .. .-. .-. --- .-. ... / .- .-. . / -. . ...- . .-. / - --- / -... . / - .-. ..- ... - . -..

Oh, with the punch of a telegram

We wap-bam-boom, alakazam

Usually, we charge at least a thousand grand

But you get the family rate!

“Thanks, Dad!” the row of ducks quacked. They flew around her now, grasping her hands and spinning her around. Laughter bubbled up from between her lips as she danced with them, the numerous balloons around her flashing different-colored lights in time with the music. Dimly, she made out the sight of what looked like a photo of some sort held in Other Dad’s hands. There were three figures in that photo, one of them holding… something that seemed to be spraying on the other two. Why did that look so familiar? She spun too fast to think about it.

Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef?

Other Dad tore the photo into pieces and threw them in the air, more confetti raining down from the ceiling. The photo pieces were lost amongst the whorl of rainbows around them, wispy bits of memory that Charlie didn’t bother reaching out and grasping. She was too busy laughing and wheeling and careening in joy.

Michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte

He'll rig the game for you because he’s the ref

Milkshake fountains, apple crisp mountains, that's just a start!

Other Dad jumped on the piano and began playing a quick-paced yet intense tune on his fiddle, porcelain fingers flying over the strings so quickly his movements were a blur. Immediately after, a black bubble-like shape appeared at the piano’s seat and now it was Other Alastor harmonizing with a cheerful piano solo. With a grin, Other Dad threw an accordion her way, which she caught easily. Well, she had never played accordion before, but she could learn, right?

The note that came out of the instrument as she pressed it was discordant at best. It interrupted the tune completely, causing both men (?) in front of her to freeze. The toys around them paused in their little cheerful dances. Her other parents stared at her, black button eyes glinting in the feverishly changing lights of the balloons. She gulped, hands trembling as the lights above her flickered, suddenly aware of just how loud the groan and creak of the house’s wooden boards were. She messed up, didn’t she? Oh God, why did she even-

“Excellent playing, Little Lady!” Other Dad said cheerfully as he tossed the fiddle over his shoulder. Wings popped out of it, slowing the landing on top of one of the nearby chests. “We’ll make you a maestro yet, won’t we love?”

Other Al closed the piano and leaned one elbow on it. “Certainly. But before that, I’m starved! Who wants jambalaya?”

In the blink of an eye, they were in the dining room together, seated at the beautifully polished mahogany table. A soft, jazzy tune floated in the air. Charlie stared at the feast before her, pressure building up behind her eyes as she inhaled the sweet, spicy, and savory smells of this lovely home-cooked meal. There was a huge pot of jambalaya in front of her, the aroma of chicken, shrimp, andouille sausage, and sauteed vegetables wrapping around her like a blanket. Accompanying it were all of her favorites: Cajun Corn on the Cob, parmesan garlic bacon patties, a skillet of cornbread, zucchini fries, roasted butternut squash, and a huge sweet potato pie. 

She piled a lotta bit of everything on her plate and happily dug in, embracing the taste, sounds, and smells of home. This was by far the best meal she had ever eaten, even better than the ones Alastor - the not-other Alastor - would whip up in their little New Orleans kitchen. Tears welled up in her eyes as the savory taste of meat, vegetable, and cornbread danced across her tongue, a symphony of sensation and succulence that refused to end.

“Would you like anything to drink, Lightning Bug?” Other Al asked, leaning his elbows on either side of his clean plate and folding his hands. He pressed his cheek against them as he regarded her with shining, unmoving black buttons. Across from him, Other Dad stopped chewing on his corn for just a second to reach up and tug on the long string hanging from the chandelier above them. Charlie let out a small gasp as the light fixture descended, colorful vials of drinks where its candlesticks would be. She grabbed her cup, then squinted at the selection. She… had no idea what was available.

“Apple cider?” she asked. Immediately, the chandelier rotated until it presented a bubbly golden liquid before her. She poured some into her cup and took a sip, sighing happily as the bubbles popped in her mouth and the crisp taste of apples settled on her tongue. She spent the rest of dinner like this, alternating between laughing at Other Dad’s corny jokes and asking for increasingly ridiculous drink requests, all of which were fulfilled by that amazing chandelier. 

Soon enough, dinner wound down. Charlie settled back in her seat, her pajamas suddenly feeling much tighter than they were before. She let out a small burp, then covered her mouth with a giggle. Out of the corner of her eye, she could’ve sworn she saw Other Al’s eye twitch ever so slightly. But how could that be? He didn’t exactly have eye sockets, after all.

“So, what would you like to do now?” Other Al asked. His long fingers began tapping lightly on the table. “We can play a game. Watch a show. Do another silly little song together.” The smile widened until it touched the very edge of his face. “We’ll do whatever my Lightning Bug wants.

Charlie blinked. “Well… after dinner, I usually go for a walk somewhere with my parents-”

“We are your parents,” both said at the same time. The soft jazz fizzled out. Other Al tilted his head slightly to the left. Other Dad to the right. Four sets of black buttons glinted at her, causing her stomach to twist into knots. She felt… a bit nauseous. She almost certainly ate too much.

“R-Right! Well, I like to go on walks after dinner,” Charlie said quickly. She put on her best smile. “T-To work it off and see if we can find anything cool!”

The gentle croon of a saxophone started up again. She wasn’t completely sure if button eyes could shift, but if they did, then her other parents were certainly doing some equivalent to that. They righted their heads and seemed to glance at each other out of the corner of their buttons, having some sort of silent exchange. After a few moments of pure silence, Other Al stood and gestured towards the back door.

“Let’s go on a walk through the garden then,” he said, the music surrounding him shifting into a more jaunty swing tune. “We have something to show you.”

The outside world was completely pitch black when they exited the house, the dim porch light not enough to illuminate anything beyond the tiny spot where they stood. Up above, the full moon cast a silvery glow on the area revealing a garden that was almost certainly alive, but Charlie couldn’t see anything else otherwise. There was no indication of what color this place was, or what kind of plants were available. They would almost certainly need flashlights if they were to venture out like this.

The cheerful swing changed again, the music now crooning out the deep, resonant tones of a cello. Without missing a beat, Other Al pivoted on his left heel and took Other Dad’s hand, bowing low to place a kiss on top of it. Other Dad smiled back, then cast a glance over his shoulder at Charlie.

“Try to keep up, Little Lady. We’re rewriting the stars just for you!”

Her fathers hadn’t danced since the horrible day Alastor had to be rushed to the hospital. But as the cello swelled into a gentle and sweeping ballad, it was as though they never stopped. They started down the path with a few steps and a twirl, their silhouettes at first barely discernible in the inky blackness of the night. Then, the sweet notes of a piano entered the song, adding a subtle glow that illuminated the path beneath their feet. 

The piano and cello mingled together in a perfect harmony now, the garden beginning to stir as if awakened by the echoes of the melody and the rhythmic tap of steps on the cobblestone path. As Charlie stepped on the path to follow them, Other Al lifted his arm and spun Other Dad, a burst of radiant golden energy coming forth. She gasped as all around her, flowers unfurled their petals in a kaleidoscope of colors, glowing red, pink, blue, purple, white, and so many others under the light of the silvery moon. Previously dormant vines came alive, weaving elegant patterns all throughout the area as though wrapping the garden and the music in a deep embrace.

As her other fathers waltzed past the trees, they bloomed as well with leaves of iridescent brilliance and swayed in harmony with the gentle melody surrounding them. Little balls of light emerged from these trees, transforming into a flock of birds in a myriad of colors. They flew circles around her head, kicking up a tiny breeze that caused her golden hair to fly up as she laughed. Even more flowers bloomed at her feet, opening up and releasing a storm of fireflies that flew into the sky, the previously impenetrable night giving way to a million tiny stars.

A violin entered the song now, delicate threads of yearning and grace gently cradling every note. The two dancers continued down the path with Charlie happily following, watching in abject awe as the path beneath their feet transformed into a mosaic of luminous stones. Thin vines danced along these new stones, gently tracing patterns throughout the area. A crystalline river flowed through the center of the garden, with huge pink lilies blooming along the water. Each of these lilies cradled a tiny tear-shaped gem that sparkled like diamonds in the light. When Charlie reached down to pluck one, it melted into stardust in her hand, another little diamond taking its place on the flower.

The cello and violin entered a duet, the piano weaving a beautiful flowing harmony in the background as they seemed to sing together. Another spin of Other Dad sent another tendril of radiant energy towards the walls of the garden. Plump, glowing fruits burst to life in response, lining the entire perimeter of the area. Charlie squealed in glee as she gave chase, the flowers glowing even more beautifully now that she had embraced the wonderful magic surrounding her.

The garden was a symphony of color now, one that transcended even the most beautiful sunset. Charlie watched in awe as the cello and violin joined together into a beautiful crescendo, a swell of music that whispered a tale of love, longing, and connection. Other Al lifting Other Dad by the waist and spinning him around. This seemed to send an enchanted wind all around the garden, causing golden daffodils to burst to life all around them. They stretched endlessly towards every end of the garden, adding their golden glow to the already beautiful tapestry of color and light. 

The dance ended with a final dip as the song slowed and faded, Other Al gently cradling Other Dad’s neck and the small of his back. Then, as soon as the final notes began to linger in the air, they righted themselves again, shooting button-eyed grins Charlie’s way. Well, at least Other Dad shot a grin her way. Other Al just sort of kept smiling, except maybe a bit brighter now.

“That was amazing!” Charlie crowed eagerly as she ran over, careful not to step on any of the flowers. “I love your garden!”

“Our garden, Charlie,” Other Dad said. He bowed at the waist and offered her a beautiful bouquet of golden daffodils, the light of the flowers reflecting just a little bit on the inky blacks of his eyes. “Can we show you one more thing before bed?”

She nodded without hesitation. Other Dad opened his arms for her and she gulped, stepping up and allowing herself to be embraced. It was… strange. It wasn’t nearly as warm or as soft as what she would get from her real dad. It was an imitation at best. Yes, there was warmth and softness there. Yes, Other Dad smelled like apples and autumn winds, just like Dad. But there was something distinctly missing here. Something that reminded her that no matter how beautiful this place was, it wasn’t really home.

Suddenly, she was in the air, held aloft by Other Dad and… and… wings. Six of them. Six wings. Three pairs. She let out a small scream and tightened her grip around Other Dad, who laughed and gently stroked the top of her head. Again, it was a familiar gesture, but also not. There was something missing indeed.

“Look alive, Little Lady! Remember what I said earlier? We rewrote the stars just for you.”

Charlie trembled as she looked down, periwinkles widening at the sight before her. It was the garden, but now from up above. And it was beautiful. Daffodils grew everywhere, creating an endless field of gold. These were accompanied by lovely white lilies, circles of blush pink roses, and a few more circles of periwinkle, well, periwinkles. A million more colors mixed in to this garden, painting a glorious picture of-

“My face!” Charlie said in awe, joy thrumming through her chest. “It’s me! It’s my face!”

Other Dad’s wings flapped as he turned to smile at her. “Do you like it? Other Father prepped it all just for you.”

She was ecstatic. She had no words for the sheer joy and glee she felt as her own face made of flowers smiled back up at her. Wordlessly, she nodded, exhilaration rushing through her veins as Other Dad slowly landed in front of Other Al, who waited for them with some sort of tool in his hands. Charlie frowned as Other Al spun the tool in his hand, then placed it on the little brick decorative ring that surrounded the tree that formed her nose. 

“What is that?”

Other Al’s smile widened even more, threatening to split the sides of his face. The gentle croons of the saxophone stuttered ever so slightly but quickly slid into the upbeat slide of a trumpet. “Just a little insurance, Lightning Bug. Nothing to worry about.” His voice dipped low, a dark, almost sinister undercurrent to his words. “There are many creatures that are quite jealous of our little paradise. That crossbow is merely a little reminder to everyone not to mess with the Morningstars.”

Charlie blinked. Then, she yawned. Her other fathers once again did that strange little thing where they exchanged looks without moving their big button eyes. 

Her room was a glowing, whizzing paradise here. The walls had been colored a stylish crimson, with the ceiling painted so that it resembled a beautiful circus tent. Strings of white lights decorated the ceiling, casting a bright and cheery glow on the lacquered wooden floor below. Her numerous stuffed animals and toys waved at her as she entered, little dragonflies dancing around her head. Even the photo of her mother on the nightstand waved and giggled at her.

She leaped into the plush bedding, sighing happily as she all but sank into the downey pillows and blanket. Her other fathers hovered over her, Other Dad gently pulling the blanket up to her chin while Other Al simply sat on the nearby chair. Featherlight fingers gently tucked one of the daffodils from her bouquet behind her ear as she slowly but surely began to drift off.

“Good night, Lightning Bug. Sweet dreams.”

For the first time in months, no headlights haunted her dreams.

Long, shadowy tendrils emerged from the corners of her room, snaking along her bedposts, curling around her bed. Strange, thin shapes emerged from the depths of this inky blackness. Emerald eyes and yellow fangs gleamed in the dying light of the moon.

We have teeth and we have tails

We have tails and we have eyes

We were here before you fell

You will be here when we rise.

Chapter Text

A cracked, uneven ceiling met her gaze when she awoke. Groaning, Charlie rubbed her eyes as she sat up, stretching to welcome the gentle gray morning light. A tiny part of her mourned the memories of the night before - that beautiful, whizzing, spinning, colorful wonderland really was nothing more than a dream. Turning to her left, she smiled at the little ragdoll seated on the chair at the side of her bed.

“You should’ve seen it, Mini Me!” she said. “It was so incre-”

A beautiful golden daffodil fell in her lap. Her eyes widened. She gasped and picked it up, marveling at how soft and gentle the petals felt in her hand.

A daffodil from their garden.

That wonderful, magical, beautiful garden.

It wasn’t a dream.

She had to tell someone, show someone the wonderful world she saw. If she could just convince her fathers to come with her, maybe they could explore that world together? Maybe the tension would melt from Lucifer’s shoulders, maybe the worry could lift from Alastor’s brow. Maybe she could find a way to make the three of them happy again!

She found her fathers in Lucifer’s study, Dad bent over his tablet as always with an empty teacup next to him. Al leaned on a nearby box and flipped through the newspaper. His favorite “Oh Deer!” mug sat nearby, the coffee in it no longer steaming.

“Dad! Al!” she shouted as she ran in. Both of them looked over at her in surprise. She ran in and gave her father a tight hug. Before he could say anything, she then ran over and hugged Al from behind. 

“Whoa! Someone’s energetic today,” Lucifer said. He ran one hand through his platinum locks. The circles under his eyes looked even darker today. “Glad to see you up and smiling, CharChar.”

Charlie grinned as she grabbed Al’s hand and started trying to tug him away. “I saw the coolest stuff last night! C’mon, you guys gotta come see!”

Al raised an eyebrow, folding up his newspaper and grabbing his cane from where it leaned against Lucifer’s desk. “Last night? So it wasn’t a giant rat that I heard sneaking around?” His tone was light, teasing.

“You heard rats sneaking around and you didn’t tell me!?” Lucifer all but squeaked.

“Dearest, the last time you knew we had rats, we had enough rat traps around the house to kill the exterminator that came to solve the problem. I didn’t want you to worry. For your sake…and mine.”

Charlie pouted and once again tugged on her step-father’s hand, giving him a gentle yet of course very firm reminder that his princess was there and she was demanding their attention. Flashing her an indulgent smile, Al placed his weight on his cane and stood up, allowing her to lead him out of the room. Naturally, they stopped by the desk to pick up her still-hyperventilating dad. She made a mental note later to make sure to finish all of whatever weird cheese thing her dad cooked up tonight, if only to make sure she didn’t step on any gross rat glue traps again.

She brought them into the drawing room and up to the little door. Unlike the night before, it was no longer glowing green, but that was fine. Maybe it just preferred to glow in the dark? Either way, she grinned when she saw that the little black key was still there, right where she left it. Doing a perfect little princess spin, she turned to face her fathers who were staring at her a bit incredulously.

“Presenting… the magic-tastical Other World!” she said as she threw open the door with a flourish.

Silence.

Lucifer broke it first, clearing his throat. “Uh… wow! Those are some really cool bricks!” He tilted his head and squinted at them. “I think one of them looks like the one that fell on Al’s head when he was born!”

Al let out a low chuckle. “I do believe the whole pile of them look like the ones you had to stand on so I could hear you asking me out.”

“One of them is definitely gonna be the one you’ll shi-... poop out when I-”

Charlie frowned, confusion swirling around in her head as she turned and stared at the brick wall that had suddenly manifested once again. How did they get here? Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the brick, finding a cold, rough surface in return. Yup, definitely real. Definitely real and not magical either.

She really didn’t have any explanation for it, and after a bit more bickering, both her fathers excused themselves to go about their errands. Lucifer went back to whatever design he had been working on before the interruption. In the meantime, Alastor went upstairs to start his broadcast. This left Charlie alone with nothing but her thoughts and the distinct twinge of guilt for seemingly wasting her fathers’ time.

Charlie stuffed a few packets of graham crackers in her pockets and walked out once again into the gray garden, the memory of the beautiful, ethereal one from the night before haunting her as she walked through it. As she looked around the dead and dying plants, she couldn’t help but feel a small bit of resentment welling up in her. Why was it that if she wanted to see any the beauty and color in the world, she would need to somehow push past those bricks? It wasn’t fair. Compared to the Other World, this one just seemed so dull and lifeless. Back there, the sky was so much more sky. The world was so much more world.

A flash of pretty olive brown and hazel lit up her vision as she approached the eastern gate. Vaggie smiled at her from beyond the gate and waved a pair of silvery tongs in her direction. Grinning, Charlie picked up her pace and jogged over to her new friend. Vaggie was wearing the same jacket today and had her helmet in hand. Despite their dark colors, she just seemed so bright and lovely. A tiny spot of color in an otherwise dull and gray world.

“Check out this Godzilla!” Vaggie said excitedly, using her tongs to all but thrust a large yellow slug in her face. Charlie laughed as she reached the gate. Vaggie dug around in her pocket and handed her a polaroid camera. “Do ya mind?”

“Not at all!” Charlie said cheerfully. They spent the next ten or so minutes taking various photos of Vaggie and the slug, ranging from terrifying to silly. At one point, even Husk the cat got involved. Vaggie placed the slug on his head and Charlie quickly snapped a photo before the strange little kitty could escape. Then, they switched off with Charlie happily allowing the slug to crawl all over her hands, her arms, her shoulders, and even her hair. Vaggie happily took a picture of each and every pose she struck.

After a while, they let the slug go and then sat down in a giddy giggling mess to look at the numerous photos they took together. There were quite a few of Vaggie being all cross-eyed and silly, but also plenty that featured her just smiling, radiant in her joy. Charlie picked up an especially pretty one and stuffed it into her pocket. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vaggie doing the same with a picture of Charlie.

“That was awesome!” Charlie said cheerfully. She handed Vaggie one of her graham cracker packets and they sat together munching on their snack. “I didn’t know there were so many ways to play with banana slugs!”

Vaggie nodded as she swallowed. “Yup! Wait until we find an even bigger one. Or even better, a whole colony of them! We can make a little village with like stick houses or something or a maze and watch ‘em go.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds amazing! Which corner of the garden should we start at?”

“None of ‘em. My abuela won’t let me go past this gate,” Vaggie said. She stuffed another graham cracker in her mouth. “The adults here know her since she owns the place, so if I get caught, I’ll probably get grounded or somethin’.”

“Why aren’t you allowed past the gate?” Charlie asked. Hazel brown eyes flickered over to her hesitantly.

“I’m… not really sure. Her sister, Emily, went missing here when they were kids. I’m guessing it has something to do with that,” Vaggie shook her head. “To be honest, I’m surprised she let a family with a kid move in here. She never does that.”

Charlie stuck out her tongue. “I’m not a kid. I’m practically an adult now!”

Vaggie snorted and rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure, whatever you say.”

They fell into a companionable silence after that, quietly munching on their graham crackers as they watched the movements of the morning. Charlie’s periwinkle gaze went first to the clouds above, counting them just like how she had counted the trees. There were nine of them. Then, she moved her gaze over to Vaggie, watching as the slight breeze tousled her pretty brunette locks. Almost at the same time, Vaggie turned her hazel eye over at her and their gazes met, causing warmth to flood Charlie’s face.

“So… since I can’t go in, do you wanna come out?” Vaggie asked. “We could still go banana slug hunting out in the woods. Or… oh! Maybe I can show you this really cool well I found not too long ago! Legend says it’s so deep that if you fell down and looked up, you’d see a sky full of stars even if it’s the middle of the day!”

All of that sounded wonderful. A tiny bubble of joy welled up in her as she stood, the word “Yes!” on the very tip of her tongue. Smiling, she reached out and grasped the gate’s knob, and-

(“... your father and I would prefer it if you just stayed in the garden for now until we all become a bit more accustomed to this place… For your safety.”)

Oh…

“I’m sorry, I…” she removed her hand from the knob. Vaggie’s brow furrowed, confusion lining her gaze. “I can’t. Not right now.”

Vaggie tilted her head. “Why not?”

Charlie bit her lip, choosing silence as her answer. For a few moments, that pretty hazel eye held her gaze, searching her face for an explanation. After a few more moments, Vaggie’s shoulders slumped. She stood up and hoisted up her helmet, grasping it in booths hands.

“Well… suit yourself then. I’m gonna head out there and see what I can find,” there was a tiny, bitter note in her voice. A tinge of disappointment. “I’ll see you around, Morningstar.”

She left rather quickly after that. Charlie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, turning around so she wouldn’t have to see her friend’s retreating form. It was still morning - the day was still young. Now she had to find something else to occupy her time.

Well, no time like now to check the mail. Charlie grinned when she saw that the mailbox was overflowing with stuff. Eagerly, she ran for it and immediately pulled the packages out of the mailbox. Her smile soon turned into a pout however when she realized the only thing addressed to her dads was a boring bill. The packages? They were all addressed to one Ser Pentious, who lived in the attic apartment above them.

Charlie sighed and tucked the rather funky smelling packages under her arm before climbing the precarious set of stairs up to the attic level. The wood squeaked and groaned with every step, the breeze shaking the structure ever so slightly as she climbed. She had never met the man who lived upstairs before; Al had briefly mentioned that he apparently had some sort of mouse army, and her dad had once told her that he was pretty sure the man was a drunk. Otherwise? Ser Pentious was a mystery.

Well, she did like mysteries.

There seemed to be no one home when she knocked on the door, so she simply laid the packages on the welcome mat. There was a funny little tune playing behind the door, sort of like a polka mixed with the gentle tinkle of a piano. Maybe there was someone home and he couldn’t hear her? Pursing her lips, Charlie stepped closer to the window of the door and leaned into peak inside-

“And just what are you doing, little girl?”

Charlie jumped and whirled around, turning to face the man who had very obviously just slithered up behind her. He was tall and thin, dressed in a light blue tanktop and a pair of weirdly shaped khaki shorts that sort of looked like they were underwear. On top of his head was a black top hat with a brown patch roughly sewn in. He had very, very long hair for a man, so long that it reached just past his waist. It seemed that the Oregon weather was rather unkind to it, as a majority of it was frizzy and seemed to float around despite there being no wind outside.

“I said, what are you doing?” the man repeated, a slight lisp to his voice. “Are you a spy sent here to steal the secrets of the amazing jumping mouse circus!?”

Charlie blinked. Those were a set of words she didn’t think she’d ever hear. “J-Jumping mouse circus…?”

“Yes!” The man said passionately, slamming one fist onto the railing of the platform. The ground below her feet swayed a bit more violently than before, causing Charlie to squeak and hold on to the doorknob. “The soon-to-be world famous jumping mouse circus! They’re not ready yet, but once they are, look out world! Ser Pentious will rule the entertainment industry and we’ll have our own show on VoxTV!”

“I-I’m sure the jumping mice circus will be wonderful, sir!” Charlie said, heart still hammering from the way the platform swayed. “But I’m not a spy! I’m your downstairs neighbor, Charlie. I was just coming up here to give you-”

“Cheese!” Ser Pentious crowed, all but diving for the packages. Charlie squealed and dodged out of the way, watching in disbelief as the man gave one of the packets a verrryyyyy long sniff. A long pink tongue flicked out and licked another one. Periwinkle eyes once again blinked in utter disbelief.

“The mice are struggling with their dancing,” Ser Pentious said, “So I came up with this brilliant idea to change their diet! With a better, stronger cheese, surely they will be able to jump in time to the new music tracks I chose!” He whirled on her. “And you… You said you’re my new downstairs neighbor? You’re the Morningstars’ daughter then?”

Charlie nodded, unsure if she really should have said anything about who she was. “Um… yeah! I moved in with me dads-”

“Then you are the daughter of Alastor Morningstar nee Boudreaux!?”

Was that Al’s old last name? Come to think of it, she had only heard it once during the wedding ceremony. And maybe a few more times back before her dad asked him out when he would listen to his broadcasts on loop all day. 

“... Yes…?”

At her words, Ser Pentious leaned in, dark eyes suddenly growing serious. Long hands came down as well and landed gently on her shoulders. He brought her face close to his, one eye twitching in a strange anticipation. Charlie gulped. She was definitely about to get eaten.

“Then… I will grant you a favor in exchange for bringing me my cheese. You, Charlotte Morningstar-”

“Charlie!”

“Charlotte Morningstar will have the honor of asking your father to advertise my amazing jumping mouse circus!” He raised his arms into the air, striking a Y-pose as though praising the sun. “Rejoice!”

A beat of silence. Then, a tiny nervous laugh bubbled out of her. This was perhaps the most bizarre encounter she ever had since moving into here. No wonder Dad thought the guy was a drunk. He certainly acted bizarre! But from the near-maniacal passion in his eye and the desperate anticipation curling in his voice, it was quite easy to tell he wasn’t drunk at all - just very, very much in love with what the art he wanted to bring into the world.

And well, that was quite lovely indeed.

“I-”

“Oh! Hello Alastor!” Ser Pentious said suddenly, pushing past her and leaning over the railing. Charlie looked down to see the tall form of her step-father walking towards the front door. He carried a brown paper bag in his arm, as though he had just returned from some sort of trip. She couldn’t see his face from here, but she was almost certain that at least one of his eyes was twitching as he quickly picked up his pace towards the house. “Do you need help!?”

Yup, he was definitely trying to ignore the guy. Charlie had never seen him limp so fast. She watched with some amusement as Ser Pentious vaulted over the platform, landing neatly on his feet directly behind her step-father as he struggled to find the right key. Oh, she could almost feel the way her step-father’s eye was twitching, see the way his ever-present smile was plastered on. It was such a funny image.

“Thank you for the kind offer, but I don’t need any help,” Al’s voice was strained, the rapid jingling of keys accompanying it. “Also, do take care not to touch me. I’m happily married and I don’t need my husband breaking out his duck cannon again.”

“Nonsense! Allow me to assist your every need! I will do anything in exchange for your assistance in advertising my amazing jumping mice circus! I’ll hold your groceries, shine your shoes, chew your food-”

“Chew his what now?”

That was her dad’s voice. Charlie giggled as the three men started bickering, choosing that moment to sneak back down the stairs. She tiptoed past the three of them and headed down towards the basement of the house.

The basement of the Hazbin Homestead was owned by a pair of ballet dancers named Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla. They were a rather odd couple of ladies; apparently, while touring the house, Alastor had actually sat down and had tea with Miss Rosie in the garden. When he returned to Lucifer and Charlie later that week, he had tried to drag Lucifer into their bedroom before the sun had even set, saying weird stuff about fortunes and tea. Unfortunately, he had stepped on his left foot wrong and collapsed, hissing while clutching his knee. The guilt Charlie had felt in that moment completely erased her appetite; it was the second time that month she had skipped eating dinner with her fathers.

She heard dogs barking before the door opened, revealing the pretty pale burgundy dress and salmon pink shawl of Miss Rosie. Today, her dusky golden curls were down and covered in a rather lovely pink sunhat. She smiled at Charlie and moved aside, welcoming her in.

“Charlotte! How lovely to see you, dear,” she trilled as she led the way inside. “Carmilla! Be a dear and start the tea, won’t you? We have a guest!”

Charlie followed her, pausing only to kneel down and pet the numerous Scotties that came to greet her. She allowed them a few licks before she entered the living room, which was covered in posters and advertisements from the “glory days”. It was quite dark down here - the basement having no windows - with the only lights illuminating the place being some old Christmas lights that were wrapped around the support beams. 

Miss Rosie gestured for her to sit on the couch and she obeyed, periwinkle eyes once again scanning the room. It was a rather tidy place for a basement so dark, with shelves of numerous decorations and some old ballet shoes lining the walls. Next to her, she noticed a small display case filled with some very different trinkets; among them were a pipe, a bowtie, a monocle, a silver spoon, a silk top hat, a spool of thread, and so many other things she could barely identify.

“How are you doing, Charlotte?” Miss Rosie asked as she sat down in one of the moth-eaten armchairs across from her. Her smile was very sweet, so sweet that Charlie didn’t have the heart to correct her. “And how are your fathers?”

Charlie smiled back at her. It was on the very tip of her tongue to tell Miss Rosie about her strange encounter in this other world, to have someone believe her. But a slight twist in her stomach stopped those words; she had wasted her fathers’ time enough already with her silly little fantasies. She didn’t want to waste Miss Rosie’s or Miss Carmilla’s time either.

“I’m doing fine, Miss Rosie,” she said politely. Some of the dogs jumped onto the couch bedside her and nuzzled close when she began scratching their heads. “And my dads are too, I think? They’ve been super busy lately.”

Miss Rosie scowled. “I keep telling Alastor to take it easy! He’s going to hurt his other knee worse than the left one at the rate he’s going! And Lucifer. That man needs a break, six packs of Oreos, and a massage. Why, I haven’t seen a man’s shoulders that tense since Carmilla’s fifth ex-husband wrestled that gator in-”

“That was Winston, actually,” Miss Carmilla said. She gracefully glided from the kitchen, her tall form swathed in a sparkly silver bathrobe. “The fourth one. And a stupid one he was too.” She shook her head, hair curlers bouncing precariously in her silver locks. “Don’t get me started on Boris.”

“I think the only one I’m deliberately trying to avoid mentioning is Zestiel,” Miss Rosie giggled. In response, the smallest, gentlest of smiles graced Miss Carmilla’s lips. “You tend to ramble on much longer about the one who made you happy.”

“Yes, well… one could only hope to find The One in this lifetime. I can only be happy he gave me our daughters before leaving us,” she turned and placed the tray in front of Charlie, the gentle scent of jasmine tea wafting from the teapot. The plate next to it held a few lady fingers, which Charlie nibbled on appreciatively.

“Would you like me to read your tea leaves, Charlotte?” Miss Rosie asked. She was swapping her hat for a sparkly round one of some sort. “I read Alastor’s tea leaves last time and you won’t believe the shade of red he turned!”

“I still think what you saw was a pair of glasses, Rosie,” Miss Carmilla said. “Not a pair of hand-”

“Anyways! Drink up your tea, Charlotte. Not all of it! Leave just a few little bits at the bottom.”

Charlie obeyed, humming a little as the well-steeped tea danced across her tongue. Dad made great tea, but this was really good too! Maybe once her dads weren’t busy anymore, they would be able to come down and have tea with Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla. With a small smile, she handed the teacup over to Miss Rosie, then scooted forward, gripping onto the edge of the couch and watching closely as Miss Rosie swirled the teacup around, then peered down into it.

Slowly, those light blue eyes widened. A shot of concern shot through the young girl as she watched Miss Rosie bite her bottom lip. She showed the cup to Miss Carmilla, who raised an eyebrow, then folded her hands in front of her. They both looked up at her with worry in their brows.

“You’re in grave danger, my dear,” Miss Rosie whispered, wrinkled hand trembling slightly as she continued to gaze at the cup. “You must be careful.”

Miss Carmilla tilted her head slightly. “Or it could mean that she is well-protected. There is a guardian watching over her.”

“Wh-What do you see?” Charlie asked, wringing her hands in her shirt. A strange little pit had settled into her stomach and was growing. She could almost feel the rain upon her skin again, the tiny body in her hands, the skid of her knee across the asphalt-

“A pair of very peculiar antlers,” Miss Rosie said quietly. “There is something that wishes harm upon you.”

Miss Carmilla shook her head, then gently turned the cup in Miss Rosie’s hand. “I see a pair of spread wings.” She looked up, mouth pursed, eyes gentle. “There is something that loves you very much and will help you on your journey.”

Confusion and concern warred in her head. Charlie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, bottom lip trembling. She had to be logical. She had to be brave.

“What do I do?”

“Don’t enter doorways you shouldn’t be going into,” said Miss Rosie.

“Avoid making deals you cannot keep,” said Miss Carmilla.

“And don’t wear green in your dressing room,” the two of them said together.

Charlie blinked. Then, she bowed her head. “Thank you for the tea… I think I should go home now.” 

Understanding flitted across both their faces. Miss Carmilla stood up. “Of course. I’ll escort you. Let’s go.”

After Miss Carmilla left her at her new home’s door, Charlie turned to enter. Before she could, a small white piece of paper caught her eye. Frowning, she picked it up and opened it, squinting slightly to read the squiggly handwriting.

Charlotte,

The mice have a message for you: Don’t go through the little door, Charlie.

Why did they call you Charlie? They must be saying crazy things! You’re name isn’t Charlie at all. Anyways, I wouldn’t worry about it. They say crazy stuff all the time.

- P

A little door? Charlie’s brow furrowed as she thought of the one in the drawing room, the portal that led to a world full of wonder and joy. What did that have to do with anything? What sort of danger could such a beautiful place ever bring her? She shook her head and stuffed the note in her pocket. Ser Pentious really was weird if he thought he could talk to mice. And the tea leaves from downstairs? Well, Mom always did say that was nonsense anyways.

The gentle hum of slow swing music brought her to the kitchen. Alastor liked to turn on the old radio whenever he was cooking. He used to tell her it inspired him to dance with the ingredients rather than just chop them up and swore that’s what helped his Ma’s old recipes taste so good. Charlie happily believed this, because Mom and Dad had always told her that love was the best seasoning for any dish; it seemed that Alastor, deep down inside him, felt the same.

Her step-father was indeed in the kitchen when she entered, pulling bits of what looked like some sort of dough from the mixing bowl next to him and shaping them with his hands. He was favoring his right leg at the moment, the cane carefully hanging on a nearby chair. On the stove she saw the large cast iron pan, golden oil cheerfully leaping from it in drops. She squealed happily as she realized what was happening, all but running over to Al’s side as she gazed into the bowl. Beignet mix. Alastor was making his famous beignets.

Al’s grin widened when he saw her approach, stepping to the side with a small wince to make room for her. She washed her hands at the sink first before all but diving into the beignet mix, grabbing small handfuls of the precious sweets with greedy little hands and eagerly shaping them into pillows and hearts and any other shape that came to her mind. None of them were perfect, but that didn’t matter; Al always said that the taste mattered way more.

“Your father’s been working quite hard and had quite the stressful day today, Firefly,” Alastor said as he twisted one bit of beignet into what should have approximated a duck but looked more like a lumpy nose. “What do you think about surprising him with beignets?”

Charlie rolled a bit of dough between her fists until it elongated and formed a snake or a worm or whatever else was long and stringy. “I think that’s a great idea!” She grinned. “But only if I get to be the first taste-tester!”

Her step-father raised one eyebrow, tossing a few irregularly shaped beignets onto the tray next to them. “You’ll need to pay a high price to be the first taste-tester. Your father made me promise that I won’t let you ruin your appetite anymore.”

She stuck out her tongue. “I think you’re trying to ruin your appetite so you won’t have to eat anymore weird cheese.”

He smirked. “You’re not wrong, Firefly. But unlike you, I’m old enough to decide how many vegetables appear on my plate.” The beignet mix was gone now. Al picked up the tray with one hand, using his other to grip his cane. “Shall we make a deal, dear? For every beignet you taste test, you must eat an entire spoon full of vegetables.”

Charlie groaned. Al may be fun, but he was still an adult. This meant he was also capable of no-fun. “Fine. But I want one before dinner!”

Al shot her a tiny, amused smile as he slowly limped over to the pot of oil sitting on the stove with the tray in hand. Without another word, he began dropping the various shaped beignets into the golden liquid one by one. Soon enough, the cheerful crackling of oil and the sweet aroma of freshly cooked beignets filled the kitchen. Charlie happy ran over to watch, periwinkles lighting up in glee as her hearts, clouds, and long wiggly beignets puffed up and turned a rich golden brown.

Alastor had barely been standing at the stove for a minute before he let out a small groan, seeming to lean even more heavily on his cane. One hand grasped the object, the other grabbed the edge of the stove, eyes twitching as he squinted. Panting lightly, he turned to smile at Charlie, eyes a bit watery, a light sheen of sweat his forehead.

“I’m sorry to ask, Firefly, but would you be a dear and fetch me a chair? My knee- I mean, I’m-” he swallowed. “I’m a bit more tired than usual today.”

A drop of turmoil appeared in her stomach, drawing with it a cloud of unease that seemed to hang over her shoulders. A strange sense of tension stretched in her chest. She shuffled over to the kitchen table and dragged a chair over. Periwinkle eyes watched her step-father as he all but collapsed into the chair, thin fingers tracing nonsensical circles into his knee, as though trying to chase away the pain. For a few minutes, he simply sat there and grinned through the pain, clenching his teeth. Then, he looked at her with a lightly twitching eye.

“Drop them in carefully so the oil doesn’t splash on you,” there was a thick, pained strain to his voice. His corners of his smile shook as he spoke. “Take them out when they turn golden brown. You can do this, Firefly.”

Charlie did manage to make quite a few beignets without burning them. But even when Lucifer walked in and grinned in joy at the sight of the beignets, even when he rained kisses on her while she giggled, she was watching Al. Watching as Al slowly got up from his chair by the stove and limped over to the pantry for powdered sugar. As he clung to various surfaces to keep him steady while an occasional grimace tugged at his features. As he accepted a kiss from Lucifer and practically collapsed on the other man, one hand gripping her father’s shoulder so tightly that even Lucifer was now wincing in pain.

The delicious taste of her and Alastor’s beignets turned to ash in Charlie’s mouth. She sat in her chair and wordlessly ate her vegetables. Unshed tears pressed behind her eyes, unspoken remorse twisted in her stomach. She smiled at her father’s jokes, at Al’s teasing with no joy in her heart. All she could see was the slight flashes of pain on Al’s face. All she could feel was the rain on her back, the asphalt on her knees. All she could hear was the shrill whine of a horn followed by the broken scream of her name.

After her fathers tucked her into bed for the night, Charlie was once again awoken by an adorable little titter in a high, squeaky voice. She sat up immediately, periwinkle eyes widening in delight when she saw the cute little hopping creature once again leaving through the door of her room. Without hesitation, she eagerly followed it all the way to the little door, which once again was glowing green. 

One porcelain hand reached out for the door, then stopped. Miss Rosie’s and Miss Carmilla’s concerned faces flashed through her mind. Then, Ser Pentious’ note. For a brief moment, she frowned, indecision staying her hand. Then, she shook her head. Her other fathers were harmless. Sure, the button eyes were a bit weird, but that was it. They possessed some sort of magic about them, and it seemed to be completely and utterly dedicated to making her happy. How could two people who possessed such wonderful, beautiful abilities be out to harm her?

Heart hammering eagerly, she plunged once again into the depths of the tunnel. It was a little bit different this time. Just like before, it was gentle and malleable, like soft carpet beneath her touch. It undulated with each movement, as though gently guiding her along the passageway to this beautiful other world. This time, though, the cold and musty smell was just a bit stronger. The sense of something ancient, lumbering, and slow seemed to be stronger as well. As she emerged through the door on the other side, she turned and blinked at the door. Why did the tunnel feel shorter than she remembered?

The kitchen light was already on. The voices of her other fathers echoed from the room. The deep, nutty aroma of freshly made gumbo permeated the air. Grinning, she ran to the kitchen, sliding through the door. When she saw the amazing sight before her, she gasped and clapped her hands in delight.

Other Dad had his wings out again, only this time he was seated in a chair with his back to Other Al. Other Al’s long fingers slowly moved their way through each feather, seeming to rub some sort of shining substance over each one. The mellow tinkling of a piano hung in the air around them. When they heard her approach, two sets of black button eyes turned towards her, glinting in the warm light of the kitchen.

“There’s the little lady!” Other Dad said cheerfully, his wings disappearing in the blink of an eye. Before Charlie could react, he reached behind his back and tugged a glittering disk from between his shoulder blades. “We were wondering if you’d run away from home!”

Charlie walked up to them, the delicious scent of gumbo growing even stronger the closer she got. She glanced briefly at the kitchen tables, where a covered bowl and a tiered tray piled high with cupcakes, macarons, and brownies awaited her. Her mouth watered at the sight; it was as though her other fathers knew her every favorite food. Then again, they were her other fathers. And they did seem to have some sort of magic. This was probably just a result of that. 

“How did you get those wings?” she asked, sitting down when Other Al pulled out a chair for her. She eagerly grabbed the silver spoon next to her and lifted the cover off the bowl. Immediately, the tangy and sweet aroma of tomato mixed with the rich scent of well-sauteed spices and the pungent notes of fresh garlic curled around her nose, making her stomach growl and her mouth water even more. Without missing a beat, she dipped her spoon into the bowl and slurped up the biggest spoonful of gumbo she could manage. Tears pricked her eyes. It was delicious. It tasted like home.

“He made them, of course,” Other Al answered, his wide grin growing even more as those black button eyes regarded her. Despite his lack of eyes, Charlie couldn’t help but wonder if the slight movement of his buttons against their thin black threads meant he was watching the movement of her spoon. “Your father is an excellent toymaker.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed, turning to smile at Other Dad, who was trying and failing to spin a cupcake on one finger like a basketball. “Both him and my Other Dad!”

The piano went silent. Other Dad dropped his cupcake on the floor, black buttons flashing as his smile became strangely nervous. The light above them flickered. Other Al tilted his head at her, his grin growing wide enough to nearly fall off his face. It seemed so plastered. His teeth were longer, sharper. Radio dials flashed dangerously instead of black buttons. When he spoke next, his voice split in two. “Your better dad, Lightning Bug.”

A coil of fear curled in her stomach. Her heart hammered in her ears. Her breath came in quick, desperate pants. Pale hands trembled as her fingernails dug into her palms. Every cell in her body screamed at her to run. To throw the hot gumbo in his face and escape. This wasn’t a father. This was a monster. An ancient beast from a pit so deep even Hell would not dare venture in. 

Then, she blinked. 

There was no monster. A gentle flute melody was playing. Other Al chuckled as Other Dad finally managed to spin the cupcake on his finger. The smile on his face was soft and gentle - not plastered so wide his head threatened to split in two. Those black button eyes turned towards Other Dad, one slim hand propping up his face while the other slid across the table and covered Other Dad’s free hand. It was such an intimate, loving gesture. A gesture she had seen often with her… other-other fathers. 

She must have eaten something weird in her world. There were no monsters here. 

Charlie put down her spoon, her appetite suddenly fizzling out. Other Dad stopped spinning the cupcake and offered it to her, which she took gratefully. Other Al’s black buttons twitched slightly as he watched her eat, long fingers drumming on the table. When she finished, she pushed away her chair and stood. 

“This was so good!” She said, giving her very full tummy a couple of pats. “I’m gonna have great dreams tonight.”

Other Al hummed, tracing one finger around the rim of his empty cup. “Oh? Going to bed already? But Lightning Bug, your friend just came over to watch the show with you! You don’t want to disappoint her, do you?”

Charlie blinked in surprise. “My friend? The show?”

“Oh hey! Look who I found at the door,” Other Dad said, popping his head into the kitchen. Wait, when did he get up and move out if the kitchen? “A little friend for the little lady!”

Other Al stood and placed one hand on Charlie’s shoulder, gently guiding her towards the hall. “Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla downstairs invited you to see their newest show! I took it upon myself to make sure you had a friend to go with you.”

Charlie allowed herself to be led to the foyer, where Other Dad waited with a very familiar face indeed. A face framed with lovely brown hair, olive skin, and a single eye. A grin split her face as she ran forward, practically leaping upon their new guest.

“VAGGIE!” Charlie squealed, pulling her friend into the richest hug. “It’s so good to-“

Oh. 

The girl before her resembled Vaggie in every way, save for the large black button in place of her pretty hazel eye. Despite this rather startling difference, everything else felt the same: the way she carried herself, the bright smile, even the the way her hair fluffed around her head. This girl was so very Vaggie but also not; where was her helmet, her silver tongs, and the eager spark of adventure in her eye? Where was the voice that happily jabbered on about banana slugs and her abuela? Where was the girl Charlie had just started calling her friend?

“How are you doing, Other Vaggie?” Charlie asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Other Dad’s smile falter just a smidge. 

Other Al’s hands gently lowered to Other Vaggie’s shoulders. “Sorry, I’m afraid she’s a bit broken and can’t talk.”

Charlie pursed her lips but still continued to smile. That was probably the only thing about this world that wasn’t a vast improvement over everything else. Well, that’s alright; Other Al mentioned she was broken, so she was just probably getting fixed later. Broken things definitely could be fixed, right?

“I think it’s time for the little ladies to head to the show downstairs,” Other Dad said. His button eyes twitched slightly in the direction of the clock hanging on the wall. It was a lovely little thing, made of polished wood and covered with intricate carvings of deer, rabbits, ducks, and birds. “There’s fashionably late and then there’s missing the entire thing!”

“Right you are, my angel,” Other Al said cheerfully. He opened the door behind him, then gestured in the direction of the house’s basement. “Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla invited you both for a very special performance today.” The flute paused for a moment as his voice lowered into a quiet little trill. “Don’t keep them waiting too long now.”

Charlie didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed Other Vaggie’s warm hand and gently tugged her out of the house into the cool night air. The moon was full again tonight, but numerous stars still twinkled from up above. Charlie took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet and heady floral scent of daffodils still hanging in the air. There was something so peaceful about this whole place. For a moment, she could just forget and enjoy an entire world away from the pained twitch in Al’s eye and the worried crease in her father’s brow.  

Other Vaggie gave her a small tug, drawing her out of her thoughts. Now it was Charlie being gently dragged over to the basement door. The frame had been replaced by a lovely looking marquee with flashing white lights, the “NOW SHOWING” sign above it indicating that there was a special one-time performance for tonight. There was also a hand-drawn doodle of some sort in the corner. Charlie squinted at it briefly before turning to Other Vaggie with a grin.

“That’s us!” she said happily, pointing at the little drawings of their smiling faces. “We’re the guests of honor!”

Other Vaggie’s black button eye seemed to light up at the news. Then, she gestured to the door with a wide smile. Charlie happily hopped down the stairs, holding Other Vaggie’s hand the entire way. As she raised her hand to knock on the door, she couldn’t help but glimpse up at the drawing of her face again. Huh. The eyes drawn on her face sort of looked like the single button eye drawn on Other Vaggie’s face. And… wait. She squinted some more at the creature perched atop the marquee, taking in the sight of a very familiar black and white shape. Was this some sort of Other Husk? But he looked the same - from the yellow of his eyes to the length of his tail. How weird.

The door swung open, revealing one of the Scotties that wandered her neighbors’ flat. It was a big black one with a little gray on its muzzle. It held a flashlight in its mouth. Without a single sound, it turned around and cantered into the dark. Charlie and Other Vaggie followed the bob of his flashlight into the dark room and down some poorly lit stairs until the shine of the flashlight stopped on some empty seats. The two of them sat down and the dog wandered away. 

As Charlie’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she recognized that the rest of the audience seemed to also be Scotties. Unable to help herself, she allowed a smile to grace her features. Alastor (and maybe Other Al too?) would hate it here. For a few moments, she and Other Vaggie sat in companionable silence, facing the tall square thing that she assumed to be the stage.

Then, the roar of an orchestra filled the room, striking a beautiful and ethereal first note, then a quick decrescendo. In that moment, Charlie felt her heart skip a beat, the tingling of anticipation filling her as she leaned forward in her seat, eyes fixed on the stage. From the darkness, she saw a figure emerge from the left side of the stage, the gentle glow of the spotlight appearing in the center. Charlie gasped when she recognized the light blonde curls and long pink dress - it was Miss Rosie!

As the gentle notes of stringed instruments filtered up from the orchestra pit, Miss Rosie began to dance. Her movements unfolded with exquisite precision, her every step like a brushstroke on a blank canvas. She glided across the floor with tiny gallops and delicate spins, hands twirling elegantly above her head. She moved in a way that no old woman should be able to move - as though she had somehow shed her walker and had magically regained full use of her dancer’s form.

The music was crescendoing now, calling forth another dancer. Out from the right side of the stage leaped another woman, silver curls bouncing precariously where they were held in those colorful curlers. Miss Carmilla danced towards the center of the stage, blue and lavender robe billowing around her as she made grand jumps and energetic leaps. Charlie nearly jumped out of her seat when the two dancers met in the center, Miss Carmilla’s leaps mingling tenderly with Miss Rosie’s grace. 

The music swelled dramatically, igniting a spark of almost manic excitement as it heralded the climax of this piece. The two old women moved in sync, weightless jumps melding beautifully into delicate pirouettes and glorious arabesques. Flower petals and lights of hundreds of different colors fell from the ceiling, painting a kaleidoscope of wonder and magic around them. The faster the music played, the faster the two dancers moved, until they were little more than a chaotic blur of pink and lavender. 

Charlie watched spellbound, following their every movement until suddenly, the music stopped. The two dancers froze immediately at the center of the stage, the final note hanging in the air. Then, they turned to the audience and curtsied together, the spotlights turning off. The dogs around them thumped their tails and barked enthusiastically while Charlie and Other Vaggie clapped. Head still whirling from the beautiful display, Charlie turned to Other Vaggie and opened her mouth to speak.

Oh, but the show wasn’t over it. Other Vaggie shook her shoulder and silently pointed towards the stage, where a dog pushed out a small barrel filled with what looked like water. Then, two new spotlights appeared towards the ceiling. Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla were up in the air now, jumping on what looked like diving boards. Charlie gasped and tried to cover her eyes, only for her curiosity to pique. She spread her fingers ever so slightly, heart hammering as the two old ladies continued to jump.

“Ready for the grand finale, Carmilla?” Miss Rosie asked cheerfully.

“Our lives for the stage, Rosie!” Miss Carmilla responded. Then, she reached up and undid her dressing gown. Except that wasn’t the only thing that opened; her face opened too, the woman shedding her entire skin like it was just another jacket. Underneath, she revealed a tall, willowy figure with smooth olive skin, long silvery hair, and a dazzling smile. She was swathed in a lovely purple leotard and blue skirt. Salmon pink button eyes glinted in the light of the stage. 

Across from her, Miss Rosie did the same thing, revealing a slightly shorter yet nonetheless graceful and willowy figure with bouncy golden curls tied in a bun. Large pink feathers sat in her bun, giving her the look of a tall and graceful bird. Her lavender button eyes glinted cheerfully in the spotlight, highlighting her pink leotard and skirt. She grinned down at the audience below.

The two ladies grabbed some nearby trapeze bars, pausing only for a moment to pose as the orchestra started playing a rhythmic pulse to accentuate the anticipation that hung in the air. Then, they swung into action with a burst of energy, the trapezes cutting through the air as they soared. The breathtaking ballet from before was in midair now, the two bodies entwining and separating in synch as they defied gravity with every graceful movement. 

“What a piece of work is man!” Miss Carmilla declared as she swung. She let go of the trapeze briefly and caught it with her knees. “How noble in reason!”

“How infinite in faculty!” Miss Rosie said. She let go of her trapeze and did a mid-air somersault, Miss Carmilla catching her ankles. “In form and moving how express and admirable!”

It was a mesmerizing spectacle, a duet of elegance and strength. Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla alternated between mid-air somersaults and daring twists, each gravity-defying maneuver accompanied by the swell of music and the bark of dogs. Charlie stood excitedly, eyes alight as the two women raced the wind. This was an absolutely dazzling display, a truly exciting bubble of-

Miss Rosie swung towards her. Charlie nearly screamed as the button-eyed woman grabbed her hands, lifting her into the air. Trepidation and exhilaration coursed through her small frame as she flew, a screaming laugh bubbling out of her. Below her, the dog audience erupted into loud howls and barks, a moment of joy to welcome this spontaneous new performer. 

“In action like an angel!” Miss Carmilla said. She let go of Miss Rosie, who flipped with Charlie in the air before also grabbing her trapeze bar with her legs. 

“In apprehension how like a god!” Miss Rosie swung back, then flipped Charlie until she held the girl by her ankles, tossing over to Miss Carmilla.

“The beauty of the world!” Miss Carmilla said. She grabbed Charlie’s ankles and tossed her even higher. Charlie performed a few somersaults of her own, laughing as the wind rushed around her. She began falling again, only to be caught one last time by Miss Rosie as she swung her way. 

“The paragon of animals!” Charlie was tossed in the air again, this time so high she could see the sandbags lining the ceiling over the stage. Glancing downwards, she watched as the two women leaped off their trapezes and gave the audience one last flip before diving straight into the barrel below. 

Oh, she was falling now. She was falling with the wind rushing through her veins, a hammer slamming into her heart. Charlie let out one last scream, then tumbled down, landing with a flourish on Miss Rosie’s outstretched hand as she rose from the barrel atop Miss Carmilla’s shoulders. She wobbled for a bit, pulse racing, still laughing as the dogs threw roses on the stage.

This feeling was incredible.

“Did you have a good time, Lightning Bug?”

Charlie grinned and let go of Other Vaggie’s hand, dashing up the stairs to meet her other fathers. The gentle plink of a piano and trill of a flute met her as she gave each of them a hug. She still felt lighter than air. “Yes! Holy cow that was amazing! First there was the ballet, and then they were flying in the air like wooooosh! And then I was in the air like fwoooooosh!” She spun around. “I gotta go again soon!”

“I’ll let them know to keep having those special performances just for you then,” Other Al said. Black button eyes squinted down at her in glee - at least, she thought they did. His smile was just as wide as always. “Would you like to do anything else before bed? I do believe your father made quite a few new toys.”

“We can catch the vermin together,” Other Dad said playfully. His own button eyes seemed to twitch slightly as they looked at her. The three of them were walking towards the door of the house now. Charlie looked over her shoulder and waved a quick goodbye to Other Vaggie, whose button eyes seemed to be… sad, somehow. It must’ve been the lack of light shining on them. 

“The mice?” Charlie asked. “Or the rats?”

Other Dad shook his head. “No, those are our friends. I mean the other kind.” A grimace appeared on his face. “Big black and white fellow with a tail.”

She blinked, a sudden image of the creature sitting atop the marquee before the show flashing through her mind. “The cat?”

“But of course, Lightning Bug,” Other Al said. They were mounting the steps of the porch now. “Silly thing thinks he can just come and go as he pleases. I think he’s forgotten that there are rules that apply to everything, including him.” The smile widened, a darkness cresting over those button eyes. “We simply need to remind him of his place.”

“I have a bunch of top hats ready to go,” Other Dad said. They entered the house and he gestured at a large pile of top hats in various colors. “We can use them to catch him. You can catch quite a few things with top hats.”

Charlie giggled and shook her head. “Thanks for the invite, but no thanks. I wanna head to bed if that’s okay.”

The piano and flute stopped. For a brief moment, a violin came on, holding out a long, haunting note. The lights flickered. Charlie turned to look first at the lights, then her other fathers. Oh, the piano and flute were back. The lights were also not flickering. She must be much more tired than she thought she was.

“Of course, Firefly. Let’s go tuck you in.”

Once again, her dreams were of nothing but dancing dragonflies and unending sweets. Not a headlight, horn, or rainstorm in sight.

Chapter Text

The next morning brought with it a crisp wind, one that seemed to chase away the fog. Everything was still gray all the way out here, but at least now there was still a bit of green to break up the monotonous tones. Charlie pulled on her blue Wellingtons and stepped out, grabbing her favorite cap on the way. She had found it while digging around Al’s things as they were going through his mother’s estate. He had told her with a large grin on his face that this cap belonged to his grandfather, who served in a regimen where their commander loved apples. As a result the badge on top of the cap was a shiny gold apple.

Alastor was already waiting for her outside, leaning on his cane as he chatted away with Miss Rosie. She was dressed rather nicely in a pink sundress and burgundy sunhat today, leaning on her walker as she chatted away with her step-father. Interestingly, Charlie noticed that there wasn’t a single Scottie in sight; that must be why Al was out here rather than hiding somewhere high enough where the dogs couldn’t reach him.

“You really didn’t have to do this for us, Rosie,” Alastor said, waving at Charlie as she approached. “Despite what my husband thinks, I’m more than capable of driving to the appointment.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure,” Miss Rosie said. “And if it was just your tall and skinny butt in the car, then I would’ve let it go. But you’re bringing your daughter, Alastor! You should know better than anyone that child endangerment is a crime around these parts.”

Alastor’s left eye twitched. “Our airbags are top of the line. The only guts being smeared across the windshield will be whatever deer I hit on the way out.”

Miss Rosie rolled her eyes, then turned to smile at Charlie. “My nephew should be here with the taxi at any moment. Make sure you babysit your papa well today, okay dear?” Gentle blue eyes shifted in Alastor’s direction. “And tell that doctor to scan his head or something. He seems to think that just because the foot he drives with works fine, he can just make it harder for everyone on the road.”

Charlie smiled back at her. “I’ll do my best!”

Soon enough, the cheerful yellow of a taxicab drove up the road. Miss Rosie stopped for a moment to plant a kiss on the driver’s face before they were off. The drive into town wasn’t a long one, but still rather windy and bumpy; for some reason, the current mayor of this town was funneling money somewhere else so the roads hadn’t been repaved in a while. Charlie watched Al the entire trip, pursing her lips every time she saw the subtle shadow of pain cross his face. Whenever he got her staring, he flashed her a small reassuring smile; of course he didn’t blame her, but that didn’t make everything hurt any less.

The doctor’s visit started out simple enough. He examined Alastor’s knee and did a few physical exam maneuvers. He made him walk back and forth, then asked her step-father what he was doing in terms of physical therapy and medications. It was all rather boring really, except for the fact that Charlie couldn’t tear her eyes away from her step-father’s left knee, the twisting feeling in her gut returning at full force. She almost missed it when the doctor started talking about what would happen next.

“Your hip, femur, and lower leg have all healed nicely,” the man said. “And judging from the hospital records, you’re doing a lot better than expected. But we still need to talk about that knee of yours. Your medial collateral ligament - that’s the ligament keeping the inside of your knee bones together - and your anterior cruciate ligament at the front of your knee are still very badly torn. Normally, an MCL tear is treated conservatively, but yours is severe enough where you’ll need to undergo a surgery. Your ACL won’t ever heal without surgery.” He pursed his lips. “It’s been a while since the accident and we’re getting down to the wire now. If you don’t have surgery very soon, you’ll never heal to 100% ever again. You’re a young and otherwise healthy guy, so I would absolutely hate for you to be handicapped because of this.”

Al let out a low sigh, long fingers twitching over the head of his cane. “I know. It’s just that the settlement money hasn’t come in yet, and-”

The doctor sighed. “Yeah, I read that in your notes. I’m so sorry. For what it’s worth, the hospital does offer some payment plans so you can pay your bill in increments instead of trying to pay it all off at once, but-”

“They’ll take some extra fees and send the money to the nearest administrator’s pocket?” Al asked. The laugh he let out was low, a tiny bit bitter. 

The doctor let out a matching laugh. “You’re not wrong, Mr. Morningstar. You’re not wrong at all.”

They left the doctor’s office about an hour later, still with about ten or so minutes to spare before Miss Rosie’s nephew came to pick them back up. While Alastor opened his flip phone to call her father and update him, Charlie took to staring at the shop window behind them. There was a pair of bright green rainboots smiling back at her. They were adorable little things, with winking frog faces peeking over the back of the boots. She pressed her hand to the glass, yearning curling in her chest as she stared at them. The price tag on them said $40; pricey, but maybe not too much? They still had time before Miss Rosie’s nephew came, after all. She could just mention something to Al, and-

“I know, I know. I promise, I’ll get everything done as soon as we get an update from our lawyer… Of course. Okay. Je t'aime aussi, Starlight. Au revoir.”

Alastor snapped his phone shut, then smiled over his shoulder at where Charlie stood. “You look like you’re either about to ask me to buy something or steal the thing you want to buy. Unfortunately, I can only legally help you with one of those.” He turned around and leaned on his cane, a spark of mischief lighting up in his eye. “I’ll go in and distract the clerk. When I give you the signal, grab my cane and smash the window. Aim for a corner; it’s braced at the corners so it won’t flex as much. Grab what you want, then run and hop into the getaway taxi. They’ll be too busy being distracted by how pained I am to run after you.”

Unable to help herself, Charlie let a laugh. “Al! I don’t want them that bad!”

Al let out a small sigh. “It would seem the angelic little apple doesn’t fall very far from its tree. If my firefly insists on being boring, then I have no choice but to go in and buy her what she wants.”

Her smile fell as she glanced at the cane. The doctor had mentioned that her step-father would need the surgery soon or else he would never heal again. On top of that, she still remembered overhearing her fathers talking about the “settlement.” From what Al said today, whatever was happening on that end was the reason why he hadn’t had the surgery yet. And the reason why he even needed that stupid surgery in the first place? Her. Her sloppiness. Her foolishness.

“I-I’m… I’m okay, Al,” she said quietly. She tore herself away from the window and gave him a shaky smile. “$40 is a lot for a pair of boots. Mine are still working fine.”

Al’s smile deflated just a touch at the corners. “Firefly-”

“Al. Please,” she interrupted, twisting her hands together. “I… I don’t need them. Please don’t get them. Please.”

His shoulders slumped. “Charlie, is this about the accident?” He limped over to her and knelt down carefully, left eye twitching wildly as his knee bent. Her step-father let out a shaky exhale, reaching out with a trembling hand to brush some golden locks out of her face. “Firefly, I’ve told you before, haven’t I? I would never blame you for what happened. You-”

“Al, please,” she repeated, voice shaking with unshed tears. Dark brown eyes flashed behind those black-rimmed specs, her step-father’s smile falling completely now as he looked at her. “I-I… Not now…” She shivered, once again feeling the rain on her skin, the asphalt against her clothes. “I don’t… I don’t wanna talk about it now…”

“Putain,” Alastor cursed quietly. The trembling hand now cupped her chin. “Firefly, I’m so sorry. We should’ve sent you to talk to someone when we moved here. Charlie-”

Horrible, raw guilt surged in her and burst like a damn. “I said I don’t want to talk about it!” 

The whole world seemed to fall silent at that moment. Alastor flinched back, as though struck. A storm of emotions flitted over his face. He opened his mouth to speak again, but no noise came out. He closed it. Then, very, very slowly, he stood up. He was gripping his cane harder than usual. His face was much more pained than usual.

The taxi ride home was silent and awkward, broken only by Miss Rosie’s nephew rambling on about his aunt’s homemade lady fingers. Charlie pressed her forehead against the window, staring at the blanket of gray clouds above. She refused to look at the cane. She refused to look at Al’s knee.

She refused to talk to him.

There were letters sitting out on the foyer table as soon as they entered. She didn’t really see their content, but did see the big red OVERDUE stamp on all of them. The all too familiar feeling of guilt twisted in her gut as she passed them. Alastor, seemingly reading her mind, immediately moved to the table and snatched them up.

“Your father’s been a bit sloppy lately,” he said. His voice was too light. Too playful. The smile was too bright. “I’ll have a word with him about this, don’t worry, Firefly.”

“There’s the person I love most in the world!” Lucifer slid out of his study wearing his duck slippers. “Oh yeah, and you too, Boudreaux.” He walked over smiling brightly, the dark circles under his eyes just a tiny bit less dark now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope. “I have great news!”

“Hi Dad,” Charlie said quietly before immediately turning to the stairs and running up them. She heard her dad’s questioning response but nothing else. She needed to go to bed. She needed to be alone. She… She just wanted everything to go away.

Charlie didn’t know how long she lay under the covers, shivering as cold rain and colder asphalt streaked across her skin. Hot tears ran down her face, flashing headlights and shattered glasses haunting her whenever she closed her eyes for too long. She was cold. Too cold and too hot. Too tired and too energetic. Too everything. She saw and heard and felt too much. Felt the crease of Lucifer’s brow, the pain of Al’s smile, the horrible, horrible unending pit of guilt that ate through her to her very core. It crested over her like waves, merciless, unending. She was swimming and swimming and drowning.

The gentle creak of her door opening drew her attention from the cresting waves for just a second. Two sets of footsteps - both slow and hesitant - crossed the squeaky floors. Two weights settled down on her bed, one on either side of her. Two hands - one long and slim, the other small and delicate - settled on her head. A tiny current of warmth broke through the waves, causing her to stop shivering for just a moment.

Someone was humming. She could hear the gentle tenor of her father’s voice behind it. It was a familiar melody; Lucifer had written it for some sort of musical toy but loved it so much he started humming it to his baby girl whenever she was sad. After a mischievous and somewhat aloof radio host entered their lives, the melody gained lyrics. There were no specific set of lyrics associated with it; her fathers always adapted them to whatever the situation called for. Sometimes they would sing about how brave she was to try out for the Spelling Bee even if she got eliminated in the first round. Or they would sing about how they would always be there for her to chase away whatever horror movie monster she was scared of that night. The lyrics changed, but the melody always remained the same - and despite herself, Charlie felt the tension slowly melting away as she listened.

Al started singing first, voice softer than she had ever heard it before.

“You didn't know that when that night happened before

Your life I just had to defend.

And in the end, I would do it all again

‘cuz you're the greatest thing worth fighting for.”

Her father joined next, gently threading his fingers through her hair. She hiccuped and buried her face into her pillow, allowing it to soak up her tears.

“More than anything, more than anything

We'll shelter and adore you more than anything.”

Alastor was drawing circles on her back now. More tension left her form as those little circles slowly yet surely made their way up her spine. She exhaled, leaning into his touch. It felt like coming home again.

“I've been dyin' to find out how you are.”

Lucifer’s weight left the bed.

“I've been waiting, wanting the same thing.”

His weight was back now. The soft fluff of her duck plush gently touched her face. Without leaving the blanket, she reached up and snatched it out of her father’s hands, burying her face into its neck. She heard Al let out a breathy chuckle.

“Looks like the apple doesn't fall far.”

She tightened her hold on the duck plush and shuffled a bit more beneath the blanket. Now only the very top of her head was visible. It was Lucifer’s turn to laugh.

“It’ll take a while

I miss that smile.”

His father’s warm hand was on her back now too. She could feel them threading their fingers together. Everything was so warm now. So warm and cozy. It was like they were back in New Orleans, sitting on their porch and watching the fireflies dance around outside. Her fathers’ voices were mingling together now as they sang in unison, two tenors mixing into a beautiful harmony.

“All that we’re hopin', now that the future’s open

Is that we can start again, not be pulled apart again.

'Cause in the end, you are part of who I am!

We’ll support your dreams, whatever lies in store.”

She hiccuped again, tiny voice bubbling out through a throat thick with tears.

“And who could ask for more?”

She could feel the warmth radiating from them, hear the smiles in their voices. No rain could wash this away. No asphalt could scrape this off. No car horn could drown this out.

“More than anything, more than anything

We’re grateful you're our daughter more than anything.

More than anything.”

A warm pot of étouffée awaited her when she arrived to have dinner with her other parents. The atmosphere today seemed especially energetic, with Other Al practically running back and forth between the stove, oven, dinner table, and Other Dad’s study. While she was gone, Other Dad had apparently “accidentally” let out a small army of toys, and the three of them were now spending time alternating between eating and returning said toys to the study. It was a playful, wonderful moment, one that Charlie would’ve happily stayed in forever.

Other Dad’s brow remained perfectly smooth, the area around his button eyes crinkling in glee as he leaped up and used his wonderful toy wings (and how wonderful they were!) to chase after flying pinwheels and fireworks. Other Al used his tall form to his advantage, but multiple times throughout the night he would leap up high to grab a pinwheel that had strayed out of Other Dad’s reach. Charlie watched all of this in wonder, almost forgetting about the full, flavorful taste of her étouffée as she watched her other fathers run around. 

At one point during dinner, Other Dad looked like he was about to crash into the chandelier. Other Al actually hopped onto the table to catch him before spinning him around and dipping him, somehow managing to avoid knocking around any of the food in the process. Charlie cheered and clapped at this display - she hadn’t seen either of her own fathers do this amount of stunts in so very long. It really did feel like she was back in New Orleans!

Eventually, dinner wound down and all of the toys had been returned to the study. Other Al got up to check the oven, the hum of a trombone dipping down into an irritated-sounding sound bite as he examined what was inside. Shaking his head, he stood up and grinned over at her.

“Lightning Bug, I’m quite sorry. I might have put in dessert too late. Why don’t you and your quiet little fiend head upstairs to see the circus? It should be finished by the time you’re done.”

A circus? If it was anything like the show from last night, Charlie absolutely couldn’t wait to see it! Without missing another beat, she excused herself from the table and ran over to the door. Other Vaggie hadn’t arrived yet. Strange. 

But there was something here.

Charlie blinked as the black and white cat approached, stopping to clean his paw. When he looked back up at her, sharp yellow eyes seemed to stare directly into her soul. She smiled as she knelt down to eye-level with him.

“You must be Other Husk!”

The cat blinked. Then, he shook his head. “No. I’m not other anything. I’m me.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. He was talking. The cat was talking. Husk was talking. Cats could talk in this world. 

“Uh… wha-” she blinked, searching for words. “Huh…?”

Not-Other Husk let out a little sigh - or at least the cat equivalent of one. “You’re probably wondering why I can talk.” He gave her a little cat-shrug. “I just can.”

Another pause. “How… How did you get here…?”

Husk’s big yellow eyes blinked up at her. Then, he hopped onto the railings of the porch. “I’ve been coming here for a while.” He disappeared behind the thin column. Charlie ran over to check, but there was no cat behind it. She blinked some more and looked around, searching for anything vaguely feline-shaped.

“It’s a game we play,” Husk said from behind her. She whirled around as he emerged from behind the thin column on the other side of the porch. “He hates cats. Tries to keep me out. But he can’t, so I come and go whenever I want.”

“Other Al hates cats?” Charlie asked uncertainly. That had to be a lie, right? She was certain that there was not a single hate-filled bone in his body… or his button eyes. Whatever his body was made of. “No way!”

Husk regarded her for a few moments, those great yellow eyes narrowing just a bit. Then, he gave another cat-shrug and began walking away from her. “Believe whatever you want to believe, Princess. You have what you know, I have what I know. Us cats hear a lot of things you humans don’t.”

She hesitated. “Like what?”

Again, he regarded her with those large yellow eyes. “This world is a dream come true for you, isn’t it? At least, you think it is. But you’re wrong.” Something dark and unknowable flashed behind his gaze. “Your friend - your other friend - told me.”

She frowned. “Other Vaggie’s broken. She can’t talk.”

Husk stopped and cleaned his paw again. “Maybe not to you.” Then, he was gone, scampering off into the distance. She stared after him, a tiny twinge of uncertainty settling in her gut. He… had to be lying, right? Her other fathers had been nothing but good to her this entire time, both directly and indirectly. There was no car crash in this world. No pain. No worries or concerns. Her fathers danced and sang. Their home was warm and welcoming. She was happy.

Other Vaggie approached her now, black button eye shining as she smiled and gave her a small, hesitant wave. Wait, why was the space between her eyebrows furrowing? Charlie had thought such an expression didn’t exist in this world.

Well, it didn’t matter. Other Al had mentioned Other Vaggie was broken, after all. Maybe this was just another thing that needed to be fixed. Smiling indulgently, Charlie pushed her conversation with the strange cat out of her mind and Other Vaggie’s hand before leading her up the nearby stairs to the attic area. What was Other Pentious like? Was he different looking than his original, like Other Rosie and Other Carmilla? Or was he made of candy? Maybe he was a super cool ringmaster or a flying daredevil! Oh, she just couldn’t wait!

The attic door was already unlocked when they got there. When Charlie and Other Vaggie pushed their way in, they were immediately met with a small room filled to the brim with wonders. In one corner stood a popcorn machine shaped like a chicken, the popped kernels coming out of its butt to fill the paper holders on the tiny ferris wheel below it. In the opposite corner was a ring toss game, vibrant lights and colorful rings beckoning towards them as adorable stuffed animal prizes jingled around it. Small cannons lined either side of the walkway towards the center; when Other Vaggie tapped one with her foot, a large cotton candy in a cone shot out of it. Charlie laughed as she turned on every single cannon, marveling as a seemingly endless kaleidoscope of cotton candy flavors shot out at them. Charlie happily grabbed handfuls and tried them all - vanilla, bubble gum, green apple, cherry, raspberry, orange, lemon, watermelon, strawberry, and lavender mingled on her tongue. She shot another green apple one out of the cannon as she and Other Vaggie moved now towards the center of the room, where a tiny child-sized circus tent stood waiting for them.

She knew this game. It was just like the corridor! Grinning, Charlie got on her hands and knees and entered the tent, gasping at the huge soaring ceilings above. There were spotlights and bleachers everywhere, the nostalgic scent of popcorn and cotton candy hanging in the air. She and Vaggie sat at the very front, leaning forward in anticipation for the spectacle sure to come.

It began first with the gentle beat of a drum. Then, it was joined by the tinkle of a tambourine and the crash of cymbals. Out from under the bleachers came tiny, round little mice. They were all dressed in cute little yellow marching band uniforms with black trimmings, many of them carrying various instruments. The mice hopped to the center of the tent, forming first a circle, then a star. Then, they hopped onto each other’s shoulders and used their tails to spell out “MORNINGSTAR.” 

Charlie squealed and shook Other Vaggie’s shoulder excitedly, spilling her popcorn. “That’s me! That’s my name!”

“Ladies and gentlemen! Girls and other girls!” Ser Pentious’ voice rang out as spotlights swung around the tent. “I, Ser Peter Pettigrew Pentious hereby present my astounding, amazing, stupendous, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious jumping mouse circus!”

As he finished that last bit, a slightly larger mouse swathed in a black and gold uniform rolled out atop a large yellow and red circus ball. It waved a conductor’s baton first at Charlie and Vaggie, then at the assembled mice. For a brief moment, all was silent as this conductor mouse bowed low before the girls before turning around and raising its baton.

The cheerful, jingling tune that wafted through the air quickly set a happy, upbeat pace. The mice began leaping to the music, spiraling to the center of the circus ring. At first they made a bunch of different shapes, from circles to stars to hearts to squares. At one point, they even created a five-point star inside a circle, holding that formation while they played their instruments and cheerfully sang nonsense words in high, sweet voices.  

Then, the center of the room rose, spiraling up until a huge pillar towered in the center of the room. The conductor mouse rolled its ball to the top, followed by all the other jumping mice. When the conductor reached the top, it held the position for just a second, bowing low once again to the two girls in the front row. Then, a mischievous circus melody began to play as he began rolling the ball down the spiral, knocking the other jumping mice off the tower as he went. Round and round the conductor went, until there was no mice left on the spiral. In the next second, the tower fell away, revealing a tall man dressed in a yellow and brown uniform and top hat at the center of the room. Other Pentious bowed low, black button eyes gleaming as the jumping mice began hopping up his sleeves, the conductor mouse rolling up his arm until it reached the top of his head. Without missing a beat, Other Pentious lifted his hat and the mouse disappeared underneath it.

Charlie gave him a standing ovation. “That was amazing!” She turned to Other Vaggie, who had remained seated. “Wasn’t it awesome!?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to Other Pentious. “That was so cool!”

“Thank you, Charlie!” Other Pentious said, now dramatically standing up. “You have been a wonderful, glorious audience! The world-famous jumping mouse circus shall now become solar system famous! And then universe famous! And then multiverse famous too!”

It would seem some things about this world didn’t change after all. Charlie giggled as she and Other Vaggie stood up before waving goodbye. They walked back down the steps to the door in silence. Well, Other Vaggie was silent; Charlie was practically vibrating with glee. When she reached the door, she turned around and squeezed Other Vaggie’s hand.

“Thank you so much for coming with me to all of this. I hope Other Dad fixes your voice box thingy soon! I can’t wait to talk to you about whatever!”

Other Vaggie froze for just a second, smile plastered, black button eyes unmoving. Then, slowly, the smile slid from her face. She placed her other hand over Charlie’s and took a step closer. Charlie frowned at this expression. She looked… worried. Concerned. Like she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

The door opened behind her. The soft croon of a saxophone filled her ears. She turned around to face the wide, wide, wide smile of her other father, his black button eyes so dark that the threads holding them there seemed to disappear in the dim light of the porch. It was like staring into two deep, dark, soulless pits. Involuntarily, Charlie shivered at the thought.

“Lightning bug! You’re back,” he said. The antique radio filter on his voice seemed a little heavier now, a tiny bit distorted. “You’ll catch your death out here if you keep standing like that. Come inside. Your father and I have a surprise for you.”

There was almost no playfulness in that request. The one was light and airy, but the intent was cold as ice. Smiling reluctantly, Charlie slipped her hand from Other Vaggie’s grip, the young girl frowning even more as she did so. For a brief moment, Other Vaggie took another step forward, as though trying to stop her friend from going inside. But then, those black button eyes met Other Al’s. A beat of silence. Then, Other Vaggie smiled widely and waved at Charlie, her hand moving a bit too frantically to be called a goodbye.

Other Al’s hand fell to her shoulder as they walked through the hall, headed for the dining room. Other Dad was already there, tuning his fiddle. When he saw them approach, he pushed the golden instrument away, leaning his face on one hand as his black button eyes turned to look at her. They were flashing in the dim light of the chandelier above. After Charlie took her seat, Other Al moved towards his. There was a small box in front of her, adorned with the prettiest pink bow. She blinked, then look up at her other fathers, who were smiling at her. Those black button eyes betrayed no emotions - not like they ever had before.

“So, Little Lady, do you like it here?” Other Dad asked. Other Al leaned his face on his opposite hand, long fingers tapping the table.

Charlie nodded. “Like it? I love it here! It’s a dream come true.” She really, really hoped they could hear how much she meant it. How much she loved being here, loved the fact that she could just will her worries away with a beautiful home cooked meal and amazing new toys and sights.

Her other parents did that strange little thing where their button eyes shifted as though looking at each other. Then, Other Dad spoke again.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Other Al let out a small laugh. “She already had dinner, Angel. I think the real question is…” he gestured for her to open the box. As she did so, he spoke again. “Would you like to stay forever?”

Inside the box, nestled in some pink satin, were a pair of large black buttons, a silvery sewing needle, and a spool of thread. Charlie’s mouth went dry at the sight of it. She let out a small squeak and snapped her head up, looking between the two other parents as they smiled at her.

No.

No no no no no.

“I-I-” she looked down at the buttons again, then back up. “I-”

“Black is traditional,” Other Al said. “But you can choose any color you want.” Their button eyes began shifting colors rapidly, cycling through hundreds - no - thousands of options. Charlie watched all of this, pressure building in her chest, bile rising to her throat. No. This was too much. This was too much.

“I don’t-” she swallowed. Her throat was too dry to speak. Her tongue too heavy. “You can’t-”

“Oh, but we must,” Other Al said. The saxophone had turned into a set of very, very tense strings now. The lights were flickering. His antique radio filter seemed to distort and twist as he spoke. “It’s the only way we can stay together. And we want that, don’t we, Angel?”

Other Dad nodded and picked up the needle. “More than anything.” He smiled at her and gently ran the tip of the needle along his finger pad. “It won’t hurt, we promise! This thing’s so sharp you won’t feel anything. You just have to choose to stay with us.”

She was panting now. Her hands grew clammy as a light sheen of sweat appeared on her brow. Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the table and stood. Her fingers tingled. Her head spun. Her knees felt so weak she wanted to collapse.

“I-I… I need to think about this,” she whispered. “I’m going to bed. I-I’m… I’m going to bed.”

The strings went silent. The lights stopped flickering. Once again, both fathers smiled at her with deep, dark pitch-black button eyes.

“... Of course, Lightning Bug,” Other Al said. He tilted his head sharply towards the stairs, his neck letting out a tiny sickening crack. “Have some sweet dreams, won’t you? I’m sure you’ll see things our way after some rest.” He hummed. “It’s just like your father said. We want you to stay with us. More than anything.”

Charlie hesitantly moved away and cheerfully wished her other parents a good night, voice quivering in slight panic. As soon as she was out of sight, she all but ran to her room, ignoring the toys that whispered questions towards her as she jumped into bed. Her mother’s photo - now with black button eyes herself - asked her if she wanted to stay. She hid it in the drawer of her dresser, hating the sight of it and yearning for the uneven ceilings and peeling paint of the bedroom in the real world. Her world.

The hospital lights were bright. Too bright. They were bright and white and blinding. There were people rushing everywhere. Everything was beeping. Doctors and nurse and techs and God knows who else were talking in hushed voices. Someone was frantically calling a surgeon. She sat in the corner, warmed blanket wrapped around her. A nurse stood by to watch over her. Dad was inside the room with the curtain drawn. She could hear him speaking, panic rising in his voice. Al… Al was silent.

She woke up again.

An even ceiling met her gaze. So did a few fluttering toy dragonflies. Outside the window, she saw the full moon.

No.

She was still in the other world.

She had to get to the door. As quietly as she could, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs. She didn’t hear any footsteps around the house - nor did she hear the tapping of a cane. There didn’t seem to be any music playing either. Good. Maybe she could get out of here.

The door to the drawing room wouldn’t budge when she pulled at the handles. It was locked tight. Even when she put one foot against the door and tugged with all her might, it refused to budge. Panic grew in her as she stared at the doors, wondering if it would be better to just start pounding at it with her fists.

The thin, high-pitched note of a fiddle interrupted her thoughts. It was followed by another note, then another, then another. Someone was playing a sad little tune down the hall. Charlie looked over her shoulder and hesitated, fear coiling deep inside her as she continued to listen to this sad, haunting tune. She shouldn’t walk there, right? They were probably just luring her into a trap. She’d have to find her own way out!

But there was no other way. She only knew the bed and the little door. The bed was out of the question, and the little door… well, someone had to open the drawing room for her. And well, Other Dad didn’t seem like a bad person. Maybe she could just… convince him somehow. Yeah. Maybe she left a hat or something in there and he could help her get it. Then she just had to shove him aside and crawl down that corridor as fast as she could. As long as she locked the little door once and for all, then should would be fine!

She had to be brave. Even if she was terrified out of her wits, she had to be brave. It was the only way. Charlie turned towards the study and took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. She was going to go home. She was not going to let them sew buttons on her eyes. She was going to see her real family again.

The sight that met her was very, very strange. Her Other Dad sat at the piano bench with his wings out, gently coaxing a melancholy tune out of his golden fiddle. The very atmosphere around him seemed to shiver with each haunting note, a mournful yet beautiful tapestry of sorrow woven from the long fingers dancing along each string. And those fingers were long - so much longer than they had been before. They were long and strange and so abnormal looking, their ends so sharp that they were more claws than fingers. 

With each slow stroke of the fiddle, feathers began to fall from his form. These plumes drifted to the ground like fragile little whispers. They were everywhere - falling from his wings, his sleeves, his ankles, even from the front of his chest. A pale gold ghostly halo flickered above him. It was… strange looking. A bit crooked. Almost like someone had gleefully snapped it in two.

She had to be brave.

“Where’s Other Al?” Charlie asked, her high voice shaking slightly as she spoke. “I need to talk to him.”

Those black button eyes didn’t move. Those long claws never left the fiddle. More haunting notes escaped from it. “Resting. His strength is our strength.”

Fury bubbled deep within her. How dared he? Wasn’t he the one saying earlier that it was her choice whether or not to stay in this horrible, ghastly imitation world?

“If you won’t help me, then I’m gonna find Other Vaggie,” she said. “I know she’ll help.”

Other Dad hummed, now playing an even more haunting tune. “No point. Her wings got too big for her and Other Father didn’t like that.” Those black button eyes flashed silver as he began playing a rather complicated bridge. “So they just had to get clipped.”

The neck of the fiddle broke under Other Dad’s fingers. He paused for a moment, staring at the break. His halo continued to flicker. Even more feathers fell from him. Then, he stood up and walked over to the workbench where a number of tools gleamed menacingly in the silvery moonlight.

She had to leave.

She ran through the kitchen and through the door to the back, dashing through the beautiful, wondrous garden. She ignored the lovely golden daffodils and the floral scent of roses hanging in the air. Birds came to greet her but she swatted them away. This was no beautiful garden now; it was a prison, a pretty little cage painted just for her. 

The east gate appeared in front of her. She passed by a garden decoration of an apple sat atop a long black rod as she ran to the gate. Panting, she reached out and grabbed the knob, shoving it open. She ran some more, running and running until her legs felt too tired to continue. There was nothing but darkness surrounding her now. Darkness and-

Wait.

The world in front of her was starting to fade away like pictures in a sketchbook. She froze, staring at the white expanse before her. What was this? Where did this come from? Was there no Other Forest?

Mrow!

Husk! She looked down immediately to see the cat’s black and white form at her feet. He licked his paw, then glared up at her with his large yellow eyes.

“I would say I told you so, but I assume that wouldn’t be helpful right now.”

“No- I mean yes, I mean- Husk!” she kneeled down and pulled the cat into a hug, squeezing him until he wheezed. When she let him go, he gave himself a full-body shake. “I’m so glad to see you! You were right. This… This world isn’t what I want. I want to go home. I want to be with my real family.” She looked around, biting her bottom lip. “But… I don’t get it. Shouldn’t there be more stuff out here?”

Husk shook his head. He began walking towards the white void. Charlie followed, careful not to step on his tail. “He only creates what he knows will impress you and convince you to stay. There’s nothing out here for him. This is the empty part of the world.”

There was no wind. No sound. No crunch of leaves beneath their feet or rocks rolling on the side of the road. Somehow, this strange, eerie silence was even worse than the horrible noises Other Al made. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Once she was out of here, she would ensure she never returned.

“I don’t get it. Why does he want me to stay? If he can make so many things, can’t he just make his own… um… Other Me?”

Husk shook his head. There was a dark shape looming in the distance now. As they came closer, Charlie realized that it was the homestead. Somehow, they had walked away from it yet still came back. “He can’t create flesh, Princess. It’s the ironic part about all of this. He can create literally anything he wants except the one thing he’s always craving.”

Charlie shivered. “Flesh? He… craves it?” She shook her head, golden tresses flailing wildly. “No way! He can’t eat flesh, that’s… I mean, it’s-”

“Cannibalism?” Husk asked. He rolled his eyes in the most cat-like way possible. “Welcome to the world, Princess. There are all kinds of messed up motherfu- erm, people out there. Well, actually, I wouldn’t even consider him to be a person.” Disgust dripped from the cat’s every word. “He’s more of a dem-”

The honk of a tiny trumpet split the air. Husk let out a low growl and slowly lowered himself to the ground. Then, a tiny round creature hopped out from behind a nearby log. Before Charlie could say anything, the cat had pounced upon it, tossing it up into the air with his paw before snapping its neck in a single bite. Charlie’s jaw dropped when the cute round thing quickly elongated into something that was not distinctly cute or round. It was a long tube with emerald green eyes and yellow fangs. Its last breath came out of it in a hissing whisper.

“I don’t like rats or snakes at the best of times,” Husk said. He threw the carcass on the ground. “This one was sounding an alarm too.” He looked up at the girl before him. “You’ll need to face him to get outta here. I’m sorry, Princess.” Then, without another word he was gone, taking the dead snake with him.

Somehow, she already knew that she would eventually need to do this. Taking a deep breath, Charlie turned to face the front door. She swallowed, desperately willing her quivering nerves to quiet down. She needed to go home. She needed to be brave.

The drawing room door rooms were still locked when she entered. The house was dead silent now; not even the sounds of a sad fiddle danced through its halls. As she groaned in frustration, she turned her head and noticed an umbrella stand for the first time. Not just an umbrella stand; there was a cane sticking out of it. It was a solid wood one, made of finely polished mahogany. The top of the cane was painted a bright red.

Alastor’s cane.

It was thin enough to fit through the handles of the double doors. Heavy enough to provide just enough leverage when she put her foot up and braced herself against the solid wood before her. Charlie grabbed onto either end of the cane and pulled and pulled and pulled with all her might. Right when she thought she had failed, one of the door handles popped off, shattering the lock.

She opened the doors and ran inside.

Chapter Text

Everything was pitch black.

When she walked in, a thin beam of light illuminated the tiny door, casting it in a dim, iridescent glow. Before she could so much as move, however, something moved in front of it instead. Something that pulsed with rhythmic, unsettling movement. Charlie watched, sick to her stomach, as the fleshy, mushy thing turned to face her, revealing what looked like two doors sitting above a set of drawers. It was a strange, grotesque armoire, with buttons where she could only assume its eyes would’ve been.

The uneven and worn floor creaked beneath her boots as she entered. Tiny lights began to appear, as fireflies flew into the room seemingly out of nowhere. In the dim, flickering light of the bugs, she could see the shadows of even more furniture and truly grotesque decorations dancing across damp, mold-streaked walls. The sickly sweet scent of decay hang in the area, mixed with the musky aroma of wet earth. Malevolence curled in the air like a lost melody.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the fireflies began to multiply. The shadows in the room only seemed to grow despite the additional light. Charlie pursed her lips, both hands curling into fists as she took in the grotesque animal heads mounted on the walls, black button eyes gleaming menacingly in the dim light. There was strange, blobby furniture scattered everywhere, a grotesque reminder of how very vulnerable humanity truly was. Everything from the curls of sinews to the pulse of muscle seemed to undulate with a sick, twisted rhythm. 

A low buzz caught her attention. There was a pop of static, then a hum of a frequency, then the slow plinks of a piano. Taking a deep breath, she turned around, facing the thing seated behind her. He sat at a table fashioned from stark white bone, a mixture of human and long-forgotten creatures. Its surface was adorned with cryptic symbols etched in something dark red that looked horribly like blood. The chair was a gnarled, ancient looking seat, its legs curling out like tree roots. In front of him sat a deer - or rather, its carcass. Silver shone in between his hands as he slowly sliced into its flesh, peeling it away from the corpse and lifting the piece up to meet sharp yellow teeth. Periwinkle eyes watched as the teeth bit down, tiny strings of decaying flesh and deep red blood staining them. Black button eyes reflected the fireflies’ light, seeming to shine with a deep, malicious glee.

“You know,” Other Al said, his radio filter twisting and distorting as he continued to dine. “They say that even the most prideful children can be broken down with love.” The static lowered to a sinister hum. A black shape that looked just like him appeared, handing him what looked like a crooked cane topped with an old-fashioned microphone. “Or perhaps you’re the type that responds better to a good caning?” Canned laughter - the type you would hear on old shows - rang through the air, a haunting whisper against the buzz of static. 

Charlie swallowed. “I-I… I want my real parents. My real dads.”

“Now, now, Lightning Bug,” Other Al said. He turned to face her fully now, his too-wide smile only growing wider and wider. “Is that any way to talk to your father?”

Fury blazed within her as she stared at this creature, hating the way his button eyes gleamed, the way his ghastly smile and horrible teeth flashed before her. “You’re not my father. Neither of you are.” A memory of Lucifer and Alastor - the real Lucifer and Alastor - laughing with her as they made beignets flashed through her mind. “My real dads are at home. My real home.”

Other Al tilted his head with a sickening crack, his smile growing so much it threatened to split his face in two. “I see... it's because I married into the family, isn't it? You think I'm some evil stepfather come to take your happiness away?" He let out a low laugh, static crackling through his every word. "My, my, what a horrible daughter you are. I think you need to apologize, Charlotte.”

She glared back at him. What would Dad say in this situation? “Fuck off!”

The static fell silent.

Long black fingers began tapping on the head of the radio cane. They were too long. And sharp. “I will count until three. One…” He stood up, rising to his full height.

Charlie stood her ground, staring down the monster before her, fists unmoving. As she glared at him, Other Al seemed to - no. He definitely was growing taller. He was growing taller and redder. His auburn hair took on a bright red shade and lengthened, twin pointed ears growing out from the top of his head. 

“Two…”

A pair of antlers burst from his scalp. Charlie felt her jaw drop ever so slightly as he continued to grow and grow and grow. His limbs were lengthening to truly abnormal proportions now, the sleeves of his coat ripping. Hooves burst out from his shoes, shredding the bottoms of his trousers. The smile went from ghastly to malevolent, the static crashing around him like a storm. He leered down at her from a height of at least seven feet, black buttons filled with malice and hate.

“Three.”

The strange living shadow was back now, wrapping its arms around her. She screamed as this shadow dragged her out of the room, followed closely by the tall, horribly graceful form of her other step-father. She squirmed and struggled, kicked her legs, even tried to bite the shadow but it was of no use; the shadow’s firm grip tightened on her even more crushing the air out of her lungs.

They approached a mirror. Charlie’s eyes widened in horror when she saw just herself reflected in it. There was no shadow. There was no Other Al. There was just her pale, horrified face, periwinkle eyes filled with fear. As she was forcefully pressed against the glass, she felt the mirror warp and undulate beneath her skin. With one final snarl, the shadow shoved her through, tossing her onto a hard and damp floor. She looked over her shoulder to see the menacing form of Other Al looking down at her, lips pulled back into a sneer.

“Stay a spell, little Lightning Bug,” he said in a dangerous, distorted voice. “I’ll come get you when you’re ready to behave.” And with that, he was gone, leaving Charlie alone in the dark.

Fear, anger, and hatred twisted inside her, creating a raging maelstrom in her chest. She let out a loud cry as she charged at the dirty mirror and pounded on it with her fists, screaming wordlessly. Hot tears ran down her face. She shouldn’t be here. She should be home. She should be with her real fathers. Where she was safe and warm and loved. She didn’t know how long she screamed and pounded and kicked the mirror for, but it felt like hours before she sank to her knees. Her throat hurt. Her fists hurt. She had no more tears to shed.

“D-Dad… P-Papa…” she hiccupped, twisting her shirt. “I… I wanna go home…”

“Be brave, girl!”

She jumped and whirled around. There was a dirty, decaying bed in the corner of the room. And there was something on top of that dirty, decaying bed. Something glowing a ghostly green. Charlie choked back a scream as she backed up, feeling her back press against the cold mirror. This was it, wasn’t it? She was going to die here. She was never going to see her fathers or mother ever again. New tears ran down her cheeks as the glowing ghostly green thing floated up and split into three shapes. Her vision blurred. Her breath quickened. Her head spun.

The middle ghostly green blob floated in front of her, its form slowly condensing and morphing until it formed a pair of eyes, a nose, a mouth… an entire face. The face of a little girl with long hair and ghostly button eyes smiled at her. “Hush now, girl. The Radio Demon might here you.”

Looking at her face almost immediately put Charlie at ease. There was something… familiar about her, from the shape of her face to the gentle slope of her nose to the somewhat mischievous quirk of her lips. It was like she was staring at the echo of an old friend, one she had not seen for years and years. 

“Who… are you?” Charlie whispered. “Why are you here?” The leftmost blob was shaping itself now, forming the image of an even smaller girl. This one’s hair was cut into a short bob and she wore a pretty dress with an apron. She smiled eagerly as she floated around Charlie, large button eyes twitching in barely held back excitement.

“Don’t know our names anymore,” she trilled perhaps a bit too cheerfully. “But I remember my real daddy. He wasn’t this bad of a boy…”

The third blob was taking shape now. She was taller than the other two, long hair pulled into a half-ponytail. Her button eyes sat above a frowning mouth that looked like it once held an almost manic grin. “The Radio Demon brought us all here. He used those dolls to spy on us and saw everything that made us unhappy.”

“He lured us here and gave us everything we wanted,” the kind-looking girl said. “So we let him sew the buttons on our eyes.”

“He was supposed to make us happy, but he was lying,” the shortest ghost said quietly. She giggled. “He locked us here and ate us. Just chomp! Into the endless void!” 

The tallest ghost cast her glance over to the shortest one. “Don’t mind her. She’s… sort of batty, that one.”

The shortest ghost giggled again. “Being dead isn’t so bad! No stress, no mess!” She sighed. “But I wish I still owned my soul.”

The kindly ghost girl smiled sadly. “You must be brave, girl. If you give into despair, he’ll win. He’ll take your joy, your life, and everything your care for. He’ll give you nothing but mist and fog. Eventually, you’ll wake up one day without a heart or soul. He would have consumed you completely.”

An image of the Radio Demon consuming the deer carcass flashed through her mind. Charlie shivered and shook her head. “I-I… I won’t let him eat me. I won’t let him do any of that to me. I’m gonna stop him. I’m gonna escape.”

For a brief moment, the ghosts simply stared at her, their forms pulsing silently. Then, the kindly one spoke. “If you do escape… would you mind finding our eyes?”

Charlie blinked. “Your eyes? He took them?”

“Took ‘em and hid ‘em,” the tallest ghost said. “If you can find that, then our souls are ours again. We can be free.”

So it would seem she wasn’t the only one trapped in this beautifully gilded cage. Charlie took a deep breath and nodded. “I will. I promise, I’ll try everything I can.”

The kindly girl’s smile widened. “You really are a brave one, Charlie.”

The ghosts pulsed gently one last time before disappearing in little wisps of smoke. Charlie stood up and looked around the room, taking in the rotting bed and the dark puddle on the floor. Maybe there was another way out? But despite checking the bed as closely as she could and staring at the puddle for what felt like hours, there didn’t seem to be a way out at all. She completed her tenth or eleventh circuit around the room and sat down once again with her back against the mirror, mind racing as she tried to think of something to help her way out.

Suddenly, a pair of small yet strong hands grabbed her from behind. She let out a loud yelp as she felt herself being pulled through the mirror, its surface undulating and morphing around her. She found herself on the floor, one gentle yet firm hand coming up to muffle her screams while the other reached up and pulled off a burlap sack mask, revealing olive skin, a puff of brown hair, and a single black button eye.

Other Vaggie!

Charlie’s periwinkles widened at the sight of the girl, a bubble of joy rising in her chest. Other Vaggie smiled back at her, then removed her hand. Charlie jumped up and immediately pulled her dear friend into a hug, squeezing as tight as she could. When she pulled apart from her, she frowned. That smile was there because of glowing green thread tightly wound around her lips. Charlie frowned as she reached out and plucked at the thread, only to pull back her hand with a small hiss. The thread burned her when she touched it, and from the furrow of Other Vaggie’s brow, it burned her too.

“You… He did this to you?” Charlie whispered. Other Vaggie nodded. Then, she grabbed Charlie’s hand and began tugging her down the hall.

“We should go find scissors,” Charlie continued. Other Vaggie shook her head. “What do you mean no? This has to hurt. You need to-” Again, another shake of the head. From the slump of her shoulders and furrow of her brow, Other Vaggie’s message was clear: there was no time to help her. Her mission right now was to help Charlie as best she could.

The drawing room was still unlocked when they reached it. The strange fleshy furniture inside seemed to be asleep; they were undulating and pulsing a bit slower than before. Charlie and Other Vaggie looked at each other before silently nodding. They knew what they had to do.

The two of them ran inside, slamming their shoulders as one against the side of the stinking, fleshy armoire. It fell with a loud crash and squelch. Other Vaggie yanked the door open, revealing the familiar corridor. There were vines and gnarled branches everywhere in there now. Bits of clothing, toys, and human hair were caught all over the place on these new additions. Charlie hesitated for just a second, inhaling to calm her nerves.

“Lightning Bug,” Other Al’s voice hissed from nowhere, seemingly coming from the very floorboards themselves. A howling wind followed by the roar of static approached the drawing room. “Is that you? Do you continue to disobey your father?”

Shadowy wisps appeared from the darkness, weaving through the air like smoke. They moved with eerie fluidity, undulating and pulsing like they had a mind of their own. Other Vaggie whirled on them, using one hand to shove Charlie towards the tunnel. Charlie shook her head and grabbed her friend’s hand.

“Come with me!”

Other Vaggie shook her head. Once again, she shoved Charlie towards the corridor, then turned fully to face the oncoming coiling and writhing hoard. She got only a brief glance of the glittering disk seated between her shoulder blades before six beautiful gray wings erupted from it. The tendrils approached her, then struck like snakes, wrapping themselves around Other Vaggie’s arms and wings. Other Vaggie ripped her arms out and beat her wings, temporarily blowing back the shadowy tendrils. 

Once again, she looked over her shoulder and shoved Charlie even closer towards the corridor. The closer her friend got to the little door, the more silvery her hair became. Eventually, her hair began to crumble into dust - a clear sign of the magic disappearing from her form. Charlie’s breath quickened again as she whirled around and dived into the tunnel, tears the color of Other Vaggie’s hair running down her cheeks as she heard the flap of wings then the sickening crunch of bone behind her.

The crawl down the corridor was quick, desperate. The darkness loomed before her like an unending maw. Brambles, branches, and vines sliced into her skin as she crawled, little toys and clothes crushed beneath her knees. The horrible sounds of crunching bone faded to nothing behind her as she continued, pale fingers desperately searching for salvation. Eventually, she felt something wooden against her fingertips and she pushed with all her might.

She burst through the little door and fell to the ground, whirling immediately and slamming it shut. The impact was so hard that it shook the wall slightly, causing her father’s white top hat to flutter down from the high shelf. The large black key turned with a satisfying clunk. She pulled it out of the keyhole and tossed it to the side where it skidded to the foot of a nearby armchair. When she tugged on the door frame, it refused to budge. She glanced over at the picture of the fiery haired girl grinning with her large dung beetle, noting how familiar that little girl looked. Unable to help herself, she crawled over towards the picture, pressing her back against the fireplace as more tears fell down her cheeks.

She was home.

A few hours later, Charlie finally had enough energy to peel herself from the floor. The early light of dawn was just beginning to appear behind the window shade, casting the drawing room in the familiar gray glow. Charlie nearly threw herself at the light and kissed it; she never thought she’d be so happy to see it.

The first thing she did was get rid of that horrible doll. She took it to Dad’s workshop and used his tools to snip off its button eyes, then crushed them with a mallet. For good measure, she snipped it’s seams and dumped out its stuffing. Then she tossed the now unrecognizable scraps into a burlap sack and threw it into the dumpster outside. She made a mental note to ask Al to set all of this on fire later. The garbage man wouldn’t be here for a bit. 

Her fathers would be waking up soon. Unable to help herself, she ran up to the master bedroom and threw open the door open. “Dad! Al! I’m home!”

No answer. Charlie blinked as she stared at the bed. It was neatly made… Well, sort of. One half of it - the half with the photos of Alastor’s Ma and her dad making a weird face on the nightstand - was neatly made. The other half - whose nightstand was decorated with numerous hand-carved wooden ducks - looked like it had never been made ever. There was a light layer of dust on both nightstands, but no fathers in the bed. Weird. Maybe they got up early?

She checked Al’s recording studio next, but that yielded even less answers. His “Oh Deer!” mug was sitting out, but the liquid inside looked like it had dried up long, long ago. Next to it was Dad’s favorite teacup, but it was overturned. There was no way Alastor just let these things hang out overnight; he liked his recording space as neat as possible. A small coil of nervousness coiled in Charlie’s stomach as she slowly backed out of the room.

The kitchen was empty as well, save for a bag filled with what she recognized were groceries. Her stomach growled. Her fathers wouldn’t mind if she ate something, right? But when she knocked the bag down, moldy and rotting fruit rolled out of it along with a cloud of flies. Charlie gagged as she stepped back, staring in horror at the mush before her. What sort of horrible experiment was Dad going to inflict on them now?

She checked all the other rooms in the house, even the bathrooms. Sometimes, one of her fathers would inevitably spend almost an hour in the restroom after work for no reason. Her mother would always roll her eyes and mutter “men” under her breath whenever that happened. Charlie didn’t really understand, but that didn’t matter now; they weren’t in the bathrooms anyways.

There was only one other place to look. Charlie walked out to the garden and looked around, calling for her fathers. No answer. As she approached the east gate, a familiar figure seemed to materialize from the fog. One hazel eye grinned over at her as Charlie quickened her pace.

“Vaggie!” she said, rushing to the gate. She reached through the bars and gave Vaggie a half-hug, Other Vaggie’s face flashing through her mind. There was pressure behind her eyes now. Guilt twisted in her stomach at the thought. Was Other Vaggie okay? Was she alive? What sort of punishment was Other Al inflicting on her? Swallowing past this feeling, she pushed them aside and smiled at the girl behind the gate. The real Vaggie.

Vaggie frowned and tilted her head. “You okay, Morningstar? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I…” she swallowed. “I… don’t think you’d believe me. Telling you… you’ll think I’m crazy.”

Vaggie tilted her head. “Try me.”

And so she did. For the first time ever, she opened her mouth and spilled everything. Everything about the other world, the beautiful temptations that Other Al created. The offer to sew the buttons on her eyes. The ghosts and their missing eyes. The punishment the Other Vaggie faced after stealing Other Dad’s wing toy and helping Charlie escape. Her missing fathers. Vaggie listened to all of this without interruption. When she finished her tale, Vaggie raised one hand and ran it through her short brown hair, letting out a small sigh.

“You’re right. You definitely sound crazy,” she said. Charlie felt her heart fall at her words. Then, Vaggie looked up at her and flashed a quick smile. “But then again, I had you pinned as crazy the moment you ran into me with your dowsing rod. So I guess this sorta thing is just kinda par for the course for you, isn’t it?”

Charlie hesitated. “So… do you believe me?”

Vaggie shook her head. “Of course not. All of that stuff sounds totally insane. To be honest, if my abuela heard any of that, she’d probably kick you and your dads out or call the loony bin or something on you.” Then, her gaze softened. “But… Well, you’re a lot of things, Morningstar. But the one thing you aren’t is a liar. And at the end of the day…” she played with her helmet uncomfortably. “Your dads are still missing, right?”

The lump in Charlie’s throat shrank just a little bit. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, they are.”

Vaggie’s single hazel eye flashed with determination. “So we gotta go find them. I’ll help you. Since you already searched the house, then we’ll need to expand the search.” She reached out and grasped the knob of the gate. “Let’s head into the woods.”

“No!” Charlie said quickly, grabbing the other side of the gate. “I-I can’t! It’s not safe!”

The other girl blinked. “Not safe? What are you talking about, Morningstar? It’s fine. All the wild animals out there are more scared of you than you are of them.”

The pit in her stomach widened. Her pulse quickened. So did her breath. Her hands became wet and clammy. “I-I can’t. I’m sorry, Vaggie, but I just can’t. It’s for my s-safety-”

“But he’s missing, right?” Vaggie asked. “And the whole point is to find him and your dad.”

“I-I know, b-but-”

Vaggie’s brow furrowed, something that seemed quite close to understanding crossing her face. “What’s with you, Morningstar? You’ve been like this since… since before going to that other world of yours.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

“You… You know how Al has a bad leg?”

Vaggie paused. “Yeah… Abuela mentioned something about that. But she didn’t say how he got it.”

A cold hand appeared in Charlie’s chest, squeezing her organs. For a brief moment, her words died in her throat. Then, she took a deep breath, quieting her nerves. “It… He got it because of me.” Tears rose to her voice. A lump appeared in her throat. “I-It’s all my fault.”

Beyond the bars, she saw Vaggie frown. Then the girl scratched the back of her head. “Did… Did you attack him or something?”

“No!” Charlie said quickly, and quite a bit more loudly than intended. “No, I… I didn’t attack him. He got injured in a car crash. It was raining. I… ran out into the road to save a frog.” Her bottom lip trembled. She was starting to feel the rain again. Smell the wet asphalt. “There was a guy driving his car down the road really fast. Al… he pushed me out of the way…”

“He saved you,” Vaggie said quietly. She reached through the gate and touched Charlie’s shoulder. 

Charlie shook her head. “I hurt him. If I didn’t try to save that frog… if I just stayed where I was-“

“You couldn’t have guessed a crazy dude was driving his car at full speed,” Vaggie shook her head. “In the rain too!”

That cold hand was back in her chest. It held her heart hostage. Her throat was starting to close. “I-I shouldn’t have been in the street anyways. It doesn’t change the fact it was my faul-“

Vaggie lifted her hand off Charlie’s shoulder and flicked her nose, sending a small jolt of pain through her. “You’re overthinking too much, Morningstar! All of that wasn’t your fault at all.”

“But I-“

“Listen. Have your dads ever told you it’s your fault?”

She blinked. “N-No…”

“Have the police?”

“No…”

Vaggie put her hands on her hips. “So why are you thinking it’s your fault?”

“W-Well my dads are my family and family doesn’t usually blame other family… and the police probably think I’m just some kid-“

“You are some kid, Morningstar,” Vaggie said. “And take it from someone who isn’t part of your family. You try to cast yourself in the worst light possible when you’re telling that story but even then it sounds like it wasn’t your fault.” She shook her head. “So this means you’re overthinking it. The accident wasn’t your fault and everyone agrees. The end. So how about we stop moping around in this garden and go save your dads?”

Charlie blinked at her. Then, she started to laugh. Vaggie… really was crazy, wasn’t she? She was a weirdo who liked to hunt for banana slugs, run around in forests and believed in dowsing rods but not other worlds. Who for some strange reason took one look at Charlie and decided that the accident wasn’t her fault. Charlie didn’t know if she really believed what Vaggie seemed to believe as far as the accident, but she was right about one thing: the important thing right now was finding her dads. They could examine the accident more later. 

Vaggie’s expression softened just a touch when Charlie laughed. Then, she opened the gate. Charlie smiled at her the began taking small, deliberate steps outside. Sticks crunched under her wellingtons as she walked. Stones rolled out of the way. When she finally passed the gate, she stopped and stared at the unending stretch of forest and valley before her. 

“Are you on fire?” Vaggie asked. “Any weird tingling feeling?”

Charlie shook her head. Vaggie grinned and took her hand. Together, they set down the path in front of them into the forest. 

The woods were surprisingly peaceful; there was a quiet, ethereal stillness in the air that seemed to stretch onward forever. The pale gray light of the dawn slowly gave way to the golden glow of the morning. As the two of them walked, they occasionally called out for her fathers, only for their own echoes to answer them back. The longer they walked, the more the pit in Charlie’s stomach grew. Eventually, they came upon a small clearing overgrown with rolling brambles and thin stretching vines. Here, Vaggie paused and called out for the Morningstars once again. And once again, nothing but ethereal silence met her cry. 

She turned to Charlie with a sigh. “I was hoping to show you this place when things weren’t sucky but…” she gestured towards an especially large mess of vines and bramble. Charlie looked a bit closer and saw the gentle whorls and knots of an old wooden trap door. “This is the well I was talking about the other day. The one where if you fall in and look up, you’d see a night sky full of stars even in the middle of the day.”

Charlie knelt down and touched the trapdoor. It definitely felt old and worn. The hole on top of it was pitch black. When she looked down at it, she couldn’t see anything - not a beam of light, not even a glimmer of water. Unable to think of anything else, she once again called for her fathers. Only her own echo answered her back.

Charlie sat back on her heels, sorrow welling up in her once again. They had looked and looked everywhere but turned up nothing. Her fathers were gone. She was all alone. Tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged her knees. 

“It ain’t over yet, Morningstar,” Vaggie said, kneeling and wrapping her arms around the weeping girl. “We haven’t looked everywhere. Maybe they’re in the valley somewhere o-or deeper in the woods. Or maybe they went to town-”

Charlie sat and listened, Vaggie’s voice slowly fading as buzzing flooded her ears. Anger, doubt, self-hatred, frustration, misery, despair… so many different emotions fought in her chest. So many thoughts and feelings dove into the pit in her stomach. God, if only she hadn’t run out to save that frog. If only she had listened to her neighbors and not gone through that door again. If only she had seen Other Al for what he truly was in the first place.

If only she hadn’t accepted that doll.

The ragdoll.

The doll Vaggie gave her.

“It… was you…” Charlie whispered, cutting across Vaggie’s rambling. 

The young girl’s eye widened as she turned to Charlie in surprise. “What?”

“You… You gave me that doll,” white hot fury rose within her as she turned to face the girl she thought was her friend. Her voice trembled with unfiltered emotion. “Other Al spied on me with the doll. One of the ghosts looked like you… You… You stole it from your abuela and gave it to me! He was able to spy on me because of you!”

“Morningstar-”

“Don’t you ‘Morningstar’ me!” Charlie shouted, rising to her feet. “This is your fault. You gave me that doll and now my dads are gone!” Hot tears ran down her face as her hands balled up into fists. “I… I thought you were my friend! But you’re not! Real friends don’t- real friends don’t make their friends’ fathers disappear!”

For a few moments, Vaggie was silent. Then, her shoulders slumped. She stood up and turned around, one hand coming up to swipe at her eye. When she turned back to look at Charlie, her hazel eye was moist.

“I-I… I think we both need some space right now,” she said quietly. “I’ll… talk to my abuela and see if she can help.” She took a few steps back. “I’m… I’m sorry, Morningstar. I really am. I…” her words petered out. She let out a small sigh and turned around before running down the road. 

Charlie stared at her retreating back, nostrils still flaring in anger. Once the other girl disappeared, she turned back around and ran all the way back to the house. The cold, empty, creaking house. The house where she was all alone.

She fixed herself a granola bar sandwich. The food was like ash in her mouth, but she forced herself to eat it all. Then, she took a bath. Brushed her teeth. Cleaned up the kitchen. She tried calling her fathers with the house phone, but both numbers went straight to voicemail. As darkness fell, she quietly went back up to her room, grabbing the photo of her and her fathers at their wedding as she passed by it.

How was it that only one night before, they were at her bedside and comforting her with their lullaby? She loved it; it helped her fall asleep. But even with how happy she was with them, she still ran back to the other world as soon as she could. She really would do anything to escape the guilt and pain of what happened. Maybe she really was a horrible daughter.

She clutched the photo under the covers, weeping as she sang her fathers’ last words so quietly not even God could hear her.

“More than anything, more than anything

I’m grateful you’re my fathers more than anything.

More than anything.”

The hot breeze of a warm and humid summer night met her as she opened the door. As she ran outside, the gentle pitter-patter of rain danced on her skin. Periwinkle eyes turned up at the world above her and smiled. The stars were so beautiful tonight.

“Firefly, you forgot your raincoat again!” Alastor said. He ran after her, grabbing her by the shoulders as she squealed and giggled in glee. Tiny drops of water landed on his glasses when he passed under their blooming magnolia tree. Charlie wriggled and squirmed, putting up at least some token resistance. Of course, she was no match for her step-father’s taller form - he forced her arms into the little yellow raincoat before she could so much as shake herself free.

“Lilith’s plane just landed,” Dad said. He had already thrown on his own rain poncho, the little face of his duck hood seeming to wink happily in the moonlight. “We should get going before the roads get too muddy.”

“Starlight, tell your daughter that she has to sit in the kid seat because she wouldn’t put on her coat,” Al said as he put Charlie down, grin bright and dazzling.

She spun around and stuck her tongue out at them. “Dad, tell your husband he has to use the baby seat ‘cuz he’s a big baby about a little rainwater.”

“How about I tell you both that you’re sitting in the backseat tonight?” Lucifer spun his keys with a smirk. “Lilith can be my DJ.”

Charlie opened her mouth to counter, only to notice a movement out of the corner of her eye. A cute little green object hopped out from a nearby bush, heading towards the street. Oh! It was a big fat frog. It was even bigger and fatter than the one she and her dad had caught together last week. He had even bought a top hat to help them catch it. 

She giggled as she walked towards it, hands outstretched. It was so cute! If she could catch it, then maybe she could show it to Mom later. Sure, Mom might wrinkle her nose and gag a little if it got too close, but she would at least still smile, right? Or at the very least, her dad would praise her for catching such a wonderful prize. 

“Charlie! Charlie, be careful!” That was Al’s voice. It sounded far away.

The frog looked at her as she approached. It ribbited once. Then, it hopped further down. She giggled and ran after it, arms outstretched.

“Wait!” Lucifer’s voice now. “Watch out!”

The yellow moonlight shining on the frog turned white. Panic ran through her immediately. There was someone coming. This frog was in danger. It was going to die if she didn’t do something. She had to-

Muddy water splashed up as she ran forward, the white light growing even brighter now. It was coming at her fast. Too fast. The loud screech of tires against mud assaulted her ears. The blare of a car horn filled the air. Her tiny hands closed around the frog’s little body-

“CHARLIE!”

A hard shove. A rush of wind. Asphalt and mud against her skin. The hard ground ripped open her pants. Her grip on the little body in her hand tightened. She was too shocked to move. Too frozen to scream. Her mouth opened but everything died in her throat. 

“AL!”

Dark red rivulets ran down and pooled with the brown mud on the ground. The man in front of her hissed a curse in his native tongue. His glasses lay shattered a few feet away. He coughed. More red.

Dark brown eyes met periwinkle. They were hazy. Trembling. Seeing her but also not. He was smiling. It was too dark and too bright at the same time. A tiny spark of light in the gloom of the night.

”Are you… okay?” He whispered, voice thick with unspoken pain. 

Her bottom lip trembled. She opened her mouth again but no sound came out. She couldn’t summon the strength. So instead, she started to cry. She cried and she nodded, still clutching the frog between trembling porcelain hands.

”Charlie. Firefly, look at me,” a slim, dark hand - the one not dripping with dark red - reached out and cupped her cheek. “This isn’t your fault. I-“ He coughed again. More dark red came out of him. “Ugh… Charlie. Be brave, okay? You must be. I-” The spark disappeared in a second. His touch went slack. He collapsed into the mud.

She didn’t really know what happened next. All she knew were flashing red and blue lights. The shrill whine of a siren. Faceless people and heavy boots in the mud. Alastor being lifted into a stretcher and into a big white car. He was getting so pale-

Her father buckled her into her car seat. His eyes were raw, red, wild. Wrath and misery. Fury and despair. Those were written all over his face. He looked at her with hollow eyes, silvery tears running down his face. He gave her a gentle kiss before getting into the driver’s seat. The drive was short, frantic. Mud kicked up as they drove. The rain pounded and pounded and pounded.

The hospital lights were bright. Too bright. They were bright and white and blinding. There were people rushing everywhere. Everything was beeping. Doctors and nurse and techs and God knows who else were talking in hushed voices. Someone was frantically calling a surgeon. She sat in the corner, warmed blanket wrapped around her. A nurse stood by to watch over her. Dad was inside the room with the curtain drawn. She could hear him speaking, panic rising in his voice. Al… Al was silent.

Hours, or days, or years later, she felt a warm and gentle pair of arms wrap around her. Numbly, she looked up and registered long hair the color of a sunset. Periwinkle eyes - a match for her own - looked down on her in both sadness and relief. She hiccuped as she wrapped her arms around the woman, sobbing into her shoulder.

“Come with me, Charlie,” Mom whispered. “I’m taking you home.” She nuzzled her hair and placed kisses all over her cheeks. “God, I’m so happy you’re okay…!”

No.

”B-But… Al-“

”He’s in surgery, Apple Blossom,” Lilith said.

”Is he gonna be okay?”

A beat of silence. Lilith pursed her lips, then looked away, as though searching for words. “He… is being taken care of by very good doctors. The best in the area.”

The pit in her stomach grew even more. Wordlessly, she took her mother’s offered hand and allowed herself to be led out of the room. They walked through a whole mess of hallways and more hallways. She didn’t pay attention to any of it; there wasn’t any room in her mind with all the numbness flooding through it. 

They met Lucifer just before they left the lobby of the hospital. He was talking to a few people in blue uniforms. His eyes remained raw and red. When he saw Lilith and Charlie, he briefly excused himself and ran over, pulling them both into a tight embrace. He kissed Charlie’s head and whispered something to her. It sounded like reassurance, but she didn’t know. She couldn’t hear it through all the buzzing in her ears.

He turned to Lilith next. “Thanks for coming all this way. I… know this isn’t the reunion you wanted.”

Mom shook her head. “Forget about what I want. Alastor… he saved our baby. God, Luci, you picked such a good one.”

A slight smile. “I did, didn’t I?”

She nodded. “I have an old friend specializing in traffic and insurance law here. Adam Manning. I’ll give him your info. And… if you guys need help, then you can always move closer to me.”

“Lily, I appreciate it but you you know we can’t afford-“

“Not California, no… but what about Oregon? I have a friend who rents out a house…  it’ll be a huge move, but at least it’ll help you guys start over after… after today. She doesn’t normally let families move in, but I think I can convince her to make an exception for you three.”

Lucifer blinked. Then, he gave Mom one last hug. He gave Charlie one last kiss. Then, he went back to talk to the blue uniform people. His back was a little straighter, but he kept shaking.

When Lilith offered Charlie dinner that night, she refused - the first of many dinners skipped.

The dim light of dawn brought her the familiar sight of an uneven ceiling. She slipped out of bed and walked around the house, once again checking every single room for any sign her parents were here. Once again, she came up with nothing; the rotting food remained on the kitchen counter. The “Oh Deer!” mug continued to sit on Alastor’s desk. Dad’s teacup was still overturned next to it. Their cell phones still went straight to voicemail. 

She didn’t know what to expect when she walked outside. Part of her definitely hoped that they were just hanging out in the garden. Or maybe they went for a walk in the woods. If they were walking in the woods, maybe she could too now? She would have to tell Vaggie the next time they-

Vaggie. Guilt twisted in her stomach as she thought of the wet hazel eye Vaggie had fixed her with the day before. She had been a horrible friend to Vaggie. It wasn’t Vaggie’s fault that her fathers were gone. And yet Charlie had blamed her anyways, driving away the only friend she had truly made in this strange, faraway place. Vaggie probably hated her now. It wouldn’t be a surprise - Charlie seemed to have a knack for hurting those she loved.

She ate another granola bar sandwich for breakfast. It tasted like nothing. She called her fathers again. No one picked up. She got up and walked outside, blinking a little as the morning light hit her. It had rained while she was asleep. The earthy scent of wet asphalt hung in the air. The dewy grass sparkled in the sun.

“Charlotte!”

Miss Rosie slowly walked over to her, two Scotties by her side. She smiled as she walked up to Charlie. “I was just thinking about you! I’m so glad that everything worked out with the settlement. Lucifer almost cried when he told me. And Alastor… Goodness, happiness is such a good look on him. True happiness, of course. As much as that man smiles, he certainly-” she trailed off, pale blue eyes scanning Charlie’s face. No doubt, she was taking in her swollen eyes, her rubbed red nose, and the way her shoulders had slumped. Pursing her lips, she stood up just a bit straighter, holding onto the handles of her walker. 

“What’s wrong, dear?”

“I-” she trailed off. She could tell Miss Rosie everything that happened in the other world. Maybe for once someone would believe her. But after everything that happened with Vaggie and her fathers, there was also a good chance that she would simply be written off as crazy. Then she would be sent to some sort of loony bin where she would be of no help at all to her missing fathers. Or worse, maybe even jail. There were a few stories of kids being accused of killing their parents, after all. No. She didn’t want that. She needed to keep some things to herself. “I… can’t find my parents anywhere. They’re missing.”

One elegant hand moved up to cover the old woman’s mouth. “Oh! You poor thing… have you called the police?”

“I… I don’t think the police will believe me.”

She shook her head, curls flying. “Of course they wouldn’t. You’re a child. They won’t take you seriously. Oh Charlie…” she started walking towards the stairs to the basement. “Come with me. Carmilla and I will help you as much as we can. At the very least, I’ll be able to call the police.”

She found herself once again sitting on the moth-eaten couch of Miss Rosie’s and Miss Carmilla’s dark living room, several Scotties by her side. Miss Rosie excused herself to go call the police while Miss Carmilla came out with yet another tray of tea and ladyfingers. Charlie munched on the cookies gratefully, the cookies swirling around her dry mouth like ashes. She wasn’t hungry. She just wanted something to do.

Miss Carmilla regarded her with gentle silvery eyes. “I’m sorry for everything happening, Charlotte.”

Charlie swallowed the ladyfinger and folded her hands together. “I… I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I have to ask you for help.”

“Do you have any idea where they could have gone?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. Some unknowable emotion flashed behind Miss Carmilla’s eyes. Then, she got up and glided over to the small display case filled with trinkets. Charlie watched as she pulled out a tiny gold key and opened it, reaching inside.

“Zestiel… was very good at finding lost things,” Miss Carmilla said. She gently moved the silk top hat aside. “Whenever I asked him how he did it, he always told me it was because of this.” She pulled out the monocle and walked over to Charlie, pressing it into her hand. Charlie blinked and turned it over, now quite a bit confused. It was a simple black-rimmed monocle with a chain attached to it. It didn’t seem any different from any other monocle out there.

“I… thanks, Miss Carmilla, but I don’t know how-”

Miss Carmilla gave her a tiny smile. “I don’t know either. But… well, I have a feeling that you will need this. Think of it as a small gift from Rosie and me. It might be good for finding the things you’ve lost.”

Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla gave her a few apples and some crackers before she left. She walked up the stairs to her porch, Zestiel’s old monocle sitting heavily in her pocket. As she opened the door, the crack of a stick nearby caused her to pause. Periwinkle eyes looked around and widened when they saw a very familiar black and white shape loping towards her. Husk stopped in front of her and blinked his large yellow eyes. Then, he looked at the door.

“Husk…” Charlie smiled, a lump appearing in her throat. It was so nice to finally see someone who fully understood. “You… You made it back! I’m so glad.”

Husk meowed, then pawed at the door. She blinked and opened it. For the first time ever, he walked inside, long tail sweeping along the old wooden floors. He looked at her and meowed again.

Charlie paused. “My… My dads are missing. Do you know where they are?”

The cat blinked twice, then walked down the hall. Charlie followed hesitantly. She knew this path - it was the same path the Radio Demon and his shadow took when dragging her to the mirror. Despite her hammering heart, she kept walking; she had to be brave. Charlie swallowed when she saw a large mirror loom in front of her. For a few moments, she simply stared at her and Husk’s reflection, brow furrowing as her mind raced trying to understand what Husk wanted to say to her.

Then, the mirror started to glow. She gasped and took a step back as an image formed on the reflective surface. First, she saw snow - lots of it. It seemed to swirl around like a blizzard. Then, she saw the two figures huddled together, shivering and nearly blue because of the cold.

Her fathers.

“Dad! Papa!” she shouted, running up to the mirror. Lucifer and Alastor looked up, eyes widening when they saw her. They both shouted her name, though no noise came out. She ran up and pressed her hands against the mirror, almost flinching from how ice cold the glass had become. 

Lucifer charged, slamming his shoulder and elbow against the glass. She could see it wobble slightly. He tried again. And again. And again. Meanwhile, Al took off his vest and used it to wrap his hand. He pulled back his fist and struck the glass with one powerful punch. Again, the glass wobbled but did not break. He tried again. And again. And again. And once more.

She had to help them. Surely there was something near her that she could use to break the glass on her side! She whirled frantically, periwinkles searching for something, anything she could throw or wield like a bat. Al had said to aim for the corners, right? So she would do that - she needed to get them out!

The roar of static filled the air. The high-pitched whine of a searching radio frequency split the silence. Charlie immediately turned back to the mirror, watching as both her fathers quickly looked over their shoulders. Their eyes widened. A malevolent green glow cast their figures in shadow. The shadow of a big clawed hand passed over them. They turned back to her and silently screamed one word in unison: Run.

Then, they were gone.

Charlie stood there in horrified silence, breath coming out in pants. Her reflection was paler than a sheet, hands shaking, bile rising in her throat. A small furry body brushed at her side. She looked down to see Husk dragging over a pair of new ragdolls with button eyes. One platinum blonde, one auburn-haired. One tall, one short. One with glistening green stitching around its left knee. 

Other Al had her parents.

She was the only one who could help them.

She needed to go back to the other world.

She had to rescue them.

Chapter Text

Charlie looked in the mirror one last time and adjusted her cap. Then, she reached into her bag and made sure that her graham crackers and flashlight were still there. In her pocket, her hand touched cold metal and glass. She pulled it out. Zestiel’s monocle gleamed in the dim light of the rising moon. She pursed her lips, then put it back in her pocket; maybe it would help her a bit. At the very least, it made her feel a bit better.

She knelt down and retrieved the key from where it had skidded to the fireplace. When she touched it, a small white paw reached out and pressed on the back of her hand. She blinked, then smiled as she met Husk’s yellow eyes.

“I know. I’m being stupid…” she muttered. Then, she lifted her hand, Husk hesitantly removing his paw. “I’m probably just walking into a trap. But…” she sighed. “You saw them. I… I need to save them. They’re my dads.” She flashed a smile over the cat. “You’re welcome to stay here. It might be safer for you that way.”

Husk let out a low growl, then followed her to the little door. Charlie knelt down and inserted the key, the lock undoing itself with a satisfying click. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open, only to be hit in the face immediately by the musty, earth stench of the corridor. There were no cobwebs now, and yet there was something very, very strange about it. Even stranger than before. She took one last glance over her shoulder, taking in every detail of the room - from Dad’s tacky white top hat on the floor to the snow globes on the mantle - before crawling inside.

The corridor was even softer now, the floor squishing and squelching beneath her as she crawled along. The musty stench was so strong now - it was as though a breeze was blowing it right into her face. Every now and then, a thin furry tail would brush against her cheek. For some strange reason, she felt her pulse slow just a bit. There was something strangely comforting about the tail. 

“Do you have a plan, Princess?” Husk asked. From the tiny squelching sounds beneath his paws, she could tell he was easily keeping up the pace next to her.

“I… Sorta,” Charlie said. “Go in, demand them back, then… um… get outta there and lock the door again.” She paused. “I’m glad at least one of them is kid-sized. He’ll be able to fit through the door pretty easily.” She tried her best to keep her tone light and playful, just like Al’s, but the quaver in her voice gave it away.

Husk let out a low hum. “That’s about 30% of a plan. Better than I thought. But… Well, that might not be enough.”

“You said before that I have what I know and you have what you know,” Charlie said. There was something strangely wet about the tunnel. Every time she placed her hand down, it was as though water was leaking out from the ground. “Can you share what you know?”

“Well, I don’t know how much it’ll help, but I wouldn’t mind sharing,” she could almost hear a smile in the cat’s voice. “He makes deals. Lots of them. Almost can’t resist making them. It’s some sort of sick control thing. His terms won’t be fair, but he won’t be able to resist.”

Charlie pursed her lips, then nodded her head. A drop of water landed on the top of her cap. “Got it.”

They crawled on for just a bit longer, the darkness of the corridor seeming to stretch on endlessly. But soon enough, she saw the faint square outline of light coming from the other little door. Before she could crawl much further, it opened with a small click. A familiar face with sky blue eyes grinned at her. Charlie felt her breath leave her immediately.

“Dad!”

“Charlie! You came for us!”

She quickened her pace, nearly running out of the corridor as she leaped out to greet him. A pair of warm arms wrapped around her and spun her around while she laughed. She closed her eyes and buried her face into the feathers on her dad’s neck and-

Feathers?

The blue eyes melted away, revealing shining black buttons. Her father’s already pale face and rosy cheeks gave way to gaunt, corpse-like features. The smile remained, but it was horrifying now - a touch of malevolence underlying the gentle curve of the mouth. Glowing green stitches gleamed at the corners of his mouth. She let out a scream, kicking her legs and struggling to break free, but the arms around her only tightened, sharp black claws digging into her sides. Six wings unfurled from the glittering disk on the monster’s back as he flew up, then deposited her onto a nearby armchair. It stunk like rotting flesh. Charlie gagged as the arms of the chair squelched and engulfed her, trapping her in the seat. Breathing hard through her mouth, she looked up and watched as Other Dad flew to land on the back of the couch at the center of the room, long talons digging into it, wings outstretched like a bird of prey. He crouched low, watching her, black button eyes flashing in the light of the fireflies. The ghostly halo continued to float over his head, casting dark shadows across his gaunt face.

“Well, well, look at what the pretty angel caught while he was hunting,” a dark bubble-like shadow emerged from the corner of the room, growing taller until the Radio Demon manifested from it. Long claws tapped on the head of his radio cane as he tilted his head at an abnormal angle, mouth revealing sharp yellow fangs. Static buzzed around him. “A little bug that doesn’t know when to lie down and be squashed.”

Charlie swallowed, willing her hands to stop trembling. “Where are my parents?”

A low whine of frequency. “Mm… don’t know! Maybe they got bored with you and ran away! Children do get so boring after a while. Especially disobedient ones that won’t accept that new family members are here to stay.”

Before Charlie could counter, she was distracted by some movement at the corner of her eye. A long snake was slithering towards them, black scales and green eyes glittering. It had a very, very familiar ornate black key in its mouth. Other Al’s grin widened as his shadow grabbed the key, moving over to the little door and locking it. When it returned the key to Other Al’s hand, the Radio Demon popped it in his mouth. From the movement of his throat, she could see that he had quite handily swallowed it whole.

She scowled. “What was that for? Don’t you have your own key?”

“There’s only one key, Little La- ow!” Other Dad turned to look at the Radio Demon, who smiled serenely as he held up a large feather. Even more of the feathers fell from him, painting the ground in wispy bits of white. Then, he melted into the shadows again only to reappear directly behind Other Dad, gently nuzzling those dull platinum blonde locks. It was almost… sweet. Horrifyingly so.

“Let’s get you some fresh air, Angel,” he murmured. Other Dad’s button eyes twitched as his smile softened.

“Oh, very good idea, Love,” Other Dad said. Then, with a flap of his wings, he was gone, leaving a trail of feathers behind him.

For a few moments, Charlie and the Radio Demon looked at each other in silence, periwinkles staring straight into deep black voids. She grit her teeth, watching as Other Al’s ears twitched lightly, button eyes glinting. Those long clawed fingers continued to rest upon the microphone cane.

The tiniest thump sounded through the room. Like cloth on glass. Charlie looked up sharply, periwinkle eyes scanning the room. That was the same sound her dads made when they were trying to break the glass. They were here? Where were they? Maybe if she could just break out of this chair-

“Well… I’m starved,” Other Al said, breaking Charlie from her thoughts. “And despite how ungrateful you’re being, I even made you breakfast.” He snapped his fingers, his shadow dragging over the familiar table of bone. It placed the table in front of Charlie, then left briefly only to come back with a plate piled high with beignets. Charlie stared at them as they were placed in front of her. They were… perfect. All perfectly shaped like little pillows, fried to a perfect golden brown, covered in the perfect amount of powdered sugar. They smelled amazing. Her mouth watered at the sight of them. There was absolutely no flaw - no weird duck shapes or heart shapes, no burns, nothing.

She hated them.

“I’m not hungry,” she said. Other Al didn’t seem to care; he simply tilted his head as he watched her, smile frozen, static buzzing. “But… I want to make a deal with you.”

The static went silent.

“Do you now?” he asked, black button eyes flashing. His smile seemed to widen even more. “What sort of deal will we be making, little Lightning Bug?”

Inhale.

Exhale.

“We’ll play a game,” Charlie said. She thanked every single star above that her voice was not trembling as she spoke. “A finding things game. I’ll look for my real dads and the eyes of the ghost children. If I win, then you let me, my parents, the ghost children, and anyone else you trapped here go.”

Again, those black button eyes flashed. The long black claws on top of his cane twitched, almost dancing in glee. “And when you lose, Lightning Bug?”

She grit her teeth, periwinkles staring straight into the black button voids. “Then I’ll stay with you forever. You can sew the buttons on my eyes.”

The low buzz of static gave way to a high-pitched whine. Then to an old, jaunty little jingle. The Radio Demon smiled even more now, teeth gleaming, button eyes morphing into dials that flailed wildly. Strange green shapes appeared around the room, cryptic messages from a time beyond ancient, beyond memory. Charlie forced herself to stare straight ahead, watching the monster as he raised a hand wreathed in green flame.

“I agree to our deal.”

“Wait.”

The song paused. The dials turned back into buttons. The green flames crackled merrily. The Radio Demon tilted his head. 

“You have to give me a hint. And you need to swear you’ll keep up your end of the bargain,” she did her best to imitate her father’s sneer. “You think I’m gonna just take a creepy handshake and your word for it?”

A pause. “Your hint… Well, I’ll tell you that for every wonder I created for you, a ghost’s eye is hidden in plain sight. As for what I’ll swear upon… hmm… I swear upon my father’s grave that I’ll keep my word to you.”

Charlie frowned. “Does he even have a grave?”

Other Al nodded cheerfully. “Oh yes! I put him in there myself!” The static began buzzing again, then transformed into a happy little jazz number. “When I found him crawling out of it, why, I chopped off his arms and kicked him back in!” Canned laughter sounded from somewhere around him, causing Charlie to shudder.

“That’s not good enough. Swear on something else.”

The Radio Demon hummed. Then, he tapped the hand still sitting on the head of his cane. “How about my right hand, then? I could hardly handle anything without it!” Again, more canned laughter.

Charlie sighed. Then, she held out her hand. The fiery green claw enveloped her small hand, nearly crushing it. A ghostly green chain wound around their joined hands, then disappeared. When the Radio Demon let go, his grin had somehow widened even more. The arms of the armchair released her. She fell to the ground, knocking the beignets over. He didn’t seem to care at all. Instead, he bowed low to her before melting into the shadows.

“You have until the witching hour, little Lightning Bug.”

She decided to start at the top. If Other Al had hidden those eyes in places of wonder, then it only made sense that one such wonder was the circus hidden in the attic of the house. Charlie looked up at the staircase leading to the attic as she exited, noting that the once grand entrance was now… rickety. Almost worse than the one she knew in her world. The thin, creaking planks swayed precariously with the slightest breeze, the rusted metal piping making up the bannister creaking under its own weight. If Alastor were here, he’d tell her that this was a dangerous, desperate climb best skipped unless she wanted a broken neck.

Well of course she didn’t want that, but she’d very much rather have him admonish her in person for doing something so dangerous. 

Unstable, almost rotting wood creaked beneath her feet as she ascended the steps, porcelain hands grasping the rusted pipe. Charlie pursed her lips and kept her steps light as she moved, trying everything she could to calm her racing pulse. Every tiny guest of wind, every breath she took seemed to shake the platform to the point where she had to pause and hold on. When she finally reached the top, she caught her breath for just a second before casting her gaze upwards.

A familiar jacket fluttered in the wind, like a ghastly flag signaling the Radio Demon’s claim on the house. It was hung almost carelessly on a pole sticking out of the house’s roof, with bones, bits of silvery hair, and feathers hanging down from it like a grotesque mobile. Bile rose in her throat as she continued to stare, noting perhaps mercifully that this horrifying collection of items that once belonged to a dear friend lacked those dark button eyes.

“Vaggie…” she whispered, reaching up to feel the coat. Part of the sleeve crumbled into silver dust at her touch, causing her to withdraw her hand. “I promise, I won’t hurt you anymore. Not you, not Dad, and not Papa.”

The coat swayed in response to her, more silver dust flying off it. Charlie turned now to the door before her, reaching out and grasping at the cold brass knob.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Time to be brave.

The door creaked open easily enough, revealing the dark room beyond. There was no light to be had anymore - it was as though someone or something had snuffed out all of the glowing carnival lights that once brightened up every corner of the room. Even the tiny circus tent at the center no longer glowed with its own inner spotlight. Charlie squinted slightly at the shadows, then pulled out her flashlight and turned it on. She was not going to look for an eye in the dark.

The room was still colorful despite the lack of light, filled to the brim with all the wonders of the small carnival from before. As she slowly shone her flashlight around the room, she noted that the popcorn machine had rusted, the chicken’s eyes glowing a deep green. The ring toss game had rotted as well, the stuffed animal prizes now clumsily stitched together with button eyes either falling off or missing. The cotton candy cannons were absolutely covered in mold and smelled like decay. Despite all of this, there didn’t seem to be anything that looked like it could be a ghost’s eye.

Charlie’s hand fell to her pocket, the one holding Zestiel’s monocle. The once cold glass and metal was warm now. And… was it humming? Charlie blinked as she pulled the object out. The world looked… strange in its lens. Like something had sucked the color out of it. Unable to think of much else to do, she placed the monocle on her eye.

The young girl was unable to stop the gasp from escaping her. Through the lens of the monocle, she saw nothing but shadow. It was as if someone took a piece of charcoal and simply colored over everything in front of her. She took it off for a brief second and the world regained its color. Then, she put it on again, now looking around with fresh eyes.

There.

There was something small and round glowing yellow just behind the popcorn stand. That had to be something, right? Hesitantly, Charlie began walking towards that light, flashlight trembling in her grip. All she had to do was go to it, reach out, and take it-

It moved.

Periwinkle eyes widened as the yellow ball slowly rose, above her head, as though riding atop a dark figure. Immediately, she removed the monocle again, noting the now dilapidated black and gold ringmaster’s outfit and droopy top hat. The creature - for that was all she could describe it as - that was once Ser Pentious rose up and faced her… or about as best as it could. Because the thing didn't have a face any longer.

It was just a collection of limbs with too many joints. Every time it moved, the arms and legs seemed to bend at awkward, horribly inhuman angles. He slithered towards her, dragging the legs of his pants along the moldy floorboards. The top hat dropped so low over his neck that she couldn’t even see it, let alone his face. For a few brief moments, they simply stood there and stared at each other. Then, the creature reached up to the rafters, twisting its wrists around them and lifting itself up. Charlie looked up and watched as it flopped and crawled like a spider along the ceiling. She put on the monocle again; it was beneath that hat. The creature then clumsily dropped down and slithered into the circus tent.

Charlie put the monocle away and got down on her hands and knees, fear coiling in her gut. Every part of her told her to scream. To run. To leave all of this behind and surrender to her own despair. But she ignored all of this, desperately concentrating instead on the memory of warm hands on her cheek. Bright smiles. Giddy laughter. A bottle of bubbly champagne splashed all over her flower girl dress while her fathers laughed and laughed and laughed.

She was scared. Terrified, even. But she had to do this. She had to be brave.

When she crawled into the circus tent, she saw the strange creature dancing clumsily in the center, atop a large pile of moldy, rotten cheese. It spun around slowly, waving its gangly limbs. The top hat tilted precariously, revealing the tiniest sliver of yellow and red. The circus ball.

A cold chill settled over her as she approached the dancing creature. Her flashlight trembled. Her breath quickened. There was a strange pull in her gut that told her this was a very bad idea. That said she should have run ages ago. Despite this, she grit her teeth and pushed forward. She had to do this.

The thing that was not Ser Pentious was singing now. The haunting melody of a dozen tiny voices filled the air, whispers that seemed to come from every single one of his undulating limbs. 

We have eyes and we have nerves

We have tails we have teeth

You’ll get all what you deserves

When we rise from underneath.

Fighting back the bile rising in her throat, Charlie reached out and snatched at the top hat. There was an enormous rat on top of this ball, green eyes gleaming with malice as it hissed at her and rolled away at a speed she didn’t think was possible. The moment it was off the creature’s head, the rest of it collapsed, more rats and ghastly snakes sliding out of the sleeves and trousers. They attacked Charlie from all sides, the girl shrieking as she kicked and flailed to fight them off. Meanwhile, the rat on top of the circus ball was rolling for the exit. 

No.

She snarled and stomped on some nearby snakes as they struck at her with yellow fangs, crushing their heads into fine powder. Then, she leaped out of the circus tent and took off running after the rat. It was rolling for the door, a tiny pet door melting into existence. It was going to get away if she didn’t do something soon. Frantically, she looked around, periwinkles widening when they landed on one of the cannons.

There was no time to think. There was no time to even know if it still worked. All she knew was that whatever inside was sticky and might just be enough. Gritting her teeth, she leaped at the cannon, feeling rats and snakes climbing up her legs as her small porcelain hands wrapped around the cannon and aimed it at the retreating rat. She smashed her fist into the button that activated it, nearly crying out as a black, sticky mass of what was once delicious candy flew at it, striking the rat right off the ball.

Yes.

The snakes and rats on her legs were tugging now, trying to pull her away from the ball. Snarling, she kicked her legs out again, watching with some satisfaction as she managed to throw a few off of her. With her knees at least now freed, Charlie propelled herself to the yellow and red circus ball, the object nearly glowing with happiness as her small hand wrapped around it.

Then, everything stopped. The rats and snakes trying to crawl up her legs and pull her away froze in place, glowing green eyes wide with shock. For a brief moment, they seemed to know what happened. Then, slowly, they began turning white, their features blurring like inked paper dipped in water. Charlie let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding as the strange creatures crumbled away into dust, leaving her alone in the attic. 

Speaking of which, the attic itself seemed to crumble - all of the cannons, the circus tent, the popcorn machine, even the ring toss game took on the same white color as the creatures around her. In the next second, they too had crumbled into dust. Charlie got to her feet and looked around, seeing a completely bare, cobwebbed, and rotting attic where a lovely carnival once stood.

Clutching the warm, gently glowing circus ball in her hand, Charlie walked outside. She looked up at the full moon. A tiny shadow had appeared on the edge of its surface. 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

She looked down at her prize and saw the face of the tall girl grinning up at her.

“Good job, little miss! You got ‘em! There’s two more left. ‘ead over to the next wonder.”

The theater was completely silent as she entered. What was once a grand facade had faded, as though abandoned. The air was heavy with the stench of dust and decay, the velvet curtains hanging in tatters. Charlie shivered as a cold sense of unease settled on her shoulders. In the dim glow of her flashlight, the shadows moved along the walls, twisting and morphing as though performing some haunting, ghostly dance. She paused for a moment and looked around, then placed the monocle on her face. There didn’t seem to be anything in front of her or in the seats. She frowned as she approached the stage, a single spotlight shining in its very center. 

How brave did she feel now?

There were strange, blobby shapes hanging upside down over the stage. Charlie swallowed as she approached. She could hear the quiet whine of dogs, accompanied by the rustle of wings. Hundreds of black button eyes glittered at her in the dim light of the spotlight. The Scotties had grown wings. Bat wings. And they were hanging upside down, watching her approach with dark, critical eyes. When she swept her flashlight over them, they rustled and hissed, wings spread. Swallowing, Charlie stowed the flashlight away. The last thing she needed right now was a swarm of Scotties trying to tear out her hair. The creatures seemed to calm down immediately. 

There had to be a ghost’s eye here. She was certain of that. Charlie reached into her pocket and put on the monocle, her whole world becoming shades of gray almost immediately. 

The old wooden floorboards creaked under her steps as she walked towards the spotlight. The air around her seemed to hum with anticipation. Once again, her pulse began racing. She stopped just outside the spotlight and looked up. Something blue sparkled from above, nearly hidden among the sand bags. There was no way she would be able to reach up there - so she would need to bring whatever that was down. Taking a deep breath, Charlie steeled her nerves and stepped directly into the spotlight.

Tink!

There was something moving above her. Something very tall and graceful.

Tink!

It was… silver? No, pink. No, blue. No, burgundy.

Thunk!

Charlie leaped out of the way just in time as a tall, imposing figure fell from the sky, pointe shoes gleaming silver. The tips of these shoes slammed into the stage where she once stood, creating large gashes. The ballet dancer - because Charlie had no other word for her - seemed to be some grotesque mix of Other Rosie and Other Carmilla. She was a towering, jumbled mishmash of what looked like pink and blue clay, with silvery flowing hair and razor-sharp ballet shoes. A beautiful necklace with a blue gem hung around her neck. Before Charlie could get a better look at her, she leaped up to the stage ceiling again. All around her, the Scotties rustled their wings, low growls torn from their throats.

Tink! Tink! 

She only had a second to leap out of the way again as the dancer dived at her with a thunk! Once again, those razor-sharp pointe shoes carved a gouge into the old wood, kicking up dust. Charlie jumped to grab at her necklace, but she leaped up and was gone again, causing the girl to snarl in frustration. 

Think.

Tink!

Think!

Tink!

Again, she rolled out of the way. Again, those deadly pointe shoes missed their mark, smashing another hole in the floor. Once again, the figure leaped up and out of the way before Charlie could so much as think about how to go for the necklace. All around her, the Scotties continued to watch and rustle, whining and growling. They were clearly waiting for something, but what? What could she possibly do?

For what felt like hours, they performed this macabre little dance together, with the strange fusion attempting to strike her from above, only for Charlie to dodge out of the way each time. The ballerina was light on her feet, nimble and graceful. No amount of leaping for her neck was enough to stop her. 

Tink! Tink! Thunk!

Tink! Tink! Thunk!

Her ankles! Charlie stood still for a brief moment, breathing hard, concentrating as hard as she could. She just had to get the rhythm right-

Tink! Tink!

She rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the deadly pointe shoes. Rather than running, she dove for the ankles, porcelain hands ready to grab them and send the dancer careening to the ground. The bicolored button eyes gleamed for a second before one silvery shoe shot forward, the ballerina performing a deadly pirouette that barely missed her neck by an inch. Charlie stumbled back, nausea flooding through her as the ballerina once again leaped back up to the rafters. The Scotties seemed extra excited now - they rustled even more, whines now joined by loud howls and barks. It was a chaotic symphony, a sharp and menacing tune to accompany the rhythmic dance of the deadly ballerina.

Tink! Tink! Thunk!

Tink! Tink! Thunk!

The stage wasn’t going to hold up for much longer. There were so many holes and gouges in it that its very foundations seemed to shake with every strike from the ballerina. Sooner or later, this creature was going to destroy the stage - and she would have nowhere else to run.

Charlie looked around again, desperately searching the gray world around her for something, anything to help her stop this dance. As the blue dot danced along the ceiling, Charlie followed it, pursing her lips as it leaped from rafter to rafter, causing the sandbags to sway and tremble with each movement. In the darkness surrounding the stage, the Scotties howled and barked, a victory screech in the face of her impending ruin. 

Wait.

She had to go for one of the wings. Charlie swallowed as she dodged the ballerina yet again, propelling herself forward so that she slid all the way to stage right. Periwinkle eyes flew upwards, noting the position of the sandbags and the ropes they corresponded to. Then, she reached into her bag, feeling the cold metal of her flashlight against her touch as she wrapped her hand around it. In one single fluid motion, she pulled it out, turned it on, and aimed it at the Scotties at the top of the stage.

Tink!

The Scotties stopped their noise, glaring at her with black button eyes. Glittering yellow teeth appeared as hundreds of mouths pulled back into snarls. Wings opened up, revealing tiny furry bodies made of twisting and writhing mounds of blackened clay.

Inhale.

Tink!

Exhale.

Thunk!

She leaped backwards, one hand reaching out and quickly grabbing onto the rope holding the sandbag aloft. At the same time, the Scotties took flight, a swarm of wings and black clay as they flew towards her. The ballerina struck the stage, creating yet another hole, only to find herself standing in the way of the Scotties’ attack. Charlie gritted her teeth as small porcelain hands deftly undid the knot of the rope, sending the sandbag down, down, down…

THUNK!

Her aim had been true. The ballerina had no time to dodge out of the way, unable to see her doom coming from the air in the midst of the Scottie swarm. Charlie dove low now as the Scotties continued to bark, growl, and howl, yellow jaws snapping at the ballerina as she desperately flailed on the ground. Charlie’s hands reached for the necklace. The moment it closed around the glowing blue gem, everything stopped again.

Just like before, everything turned white, features blurring like printed paper thrown into a puddle of water. Just like before, they held this position before crumbling into dust. Unlike before, the strange little dogs seemed to fuse with the clay ballerina, a grotesque and twisting vision of death before the final decay into dust. Charlie shivered as the mass of wings, clay, and razor-sharp pointe-shoes crumbled away, the lovely face of the ballerina seeming to twist in hate as it left this world.

All around her, the stage continued to crumble and fade, the audience’s seats rotting away as though touched by hundreds of years in mere seconds. She made her way down the center aisle, past all the slowly crumbling scenery, and walked up the stairs. Charlie cast one more glance over her shoulder, watching with a twinge of sadness as the once opulent, wondrous theater bowed before the oncoming rush of decay. Then, the young girl turned around and walked up the stairs, emerging into the cool night air.

The moon above was half-way covered with the shadow now, shaped to look like a huge button. Charlie pursed her lips. She didn’t have much time left, did she? And she still had one eye left to go. She looked down at the glowing blue gem, smiling when the face of the fiery-haired smallest ghost grinned back up at her.

“Ooh! Look at you, taking down that bad bad girl. You still have one eye left, right? Then you gotta face the baddest boy of all,” one button eye seemed to glint, as though she were winking. “Let’s clean this mess up!”

Charlie nodded as she faced the house. She knew exactly where to go next. “Let’s finish this.”

The garden was just as gloriously beautiful as she remembered it. The delicate vines and jewel-like flowers seemed to bow before her as she walked. Charlie paused at the start of the path, casting her gaze around the glowing, flashing, glittering scenery. There had to be a ghost’s eye out here. This was the last wonder, after all. Taking a deep breath, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the monocle once again.

The moment she put it on, it was like all the color had drowned from the world. Charlie gasped, head whipping back and forth as she looked around the now gray garden. It looked more like a sketchbook now, the shadows underneath every leaf sharper and more blurred at the same time. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched a leaf, flinching as it bowed beneath her touch. It certainly felt like a leaf. Withdrawing her hand, she walked further into the garden.

There was a bright red spot near the east gate, an ember in the gray and white expanse. Charlie quickened her steps towards it, noting out of the corner of her eyes that the vines seemed to be… moving. This wasn’t good. She should prepare to run. But she needed to reach the eye first. Without any further hesitation, she jogged over to the glowing red ember and took off the monocle, eyes widening when she saw some sort of apple decoration on a long black iron rod sticking out of the ground. This had to be it. She reached out for it.

Her only warning was a rush of wind. Then, the flap of outstretched wings. Something deep inside her screamed at her to leap back and she obeyed, narrowly avoiding the sharp talons aimed for her eyes. She fell to the ground and backed up, periwinkles widening in horror as the ghastly six-winged angel landed next to the apple rod, black button eyes flashing with malice and… something else. Something she couldn’t quite place. One clawed hand grabbed the rod from just beneath the apple, the metal bending, twisting, and elongating until the creature held not an apple rod but a long black sword topped with a red jewel. Green stitches glinted at the edges of an almost manic smile as he brandished the sword, red flames engulfing the blade.

Other Lucifer stood tall and stared at her, the flames causing the shadows around his button eyes to dance. The eastern gate of the garden seemed to frame him, like a bird standing before an open cage door. The ghostly gold halo flickered above his head. His smile widened as he ran the flaming sword across one hand.

“I’m sorry, Little Lady. Your father’s making me.”

He pushed off his back talon and attacked, swinging the fiery blade. Charlie shrieked and rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding the dancing flames. She leaped to her feet and ran, weaving to dodge the sword’s blows and leaping to the side to avoid him dive bombing her whenever she heard the flap of wings. The moon cast its eerie glow over the garden, illuminating twisting vines and garish flowers. Every now and then, Charlie stumbled over the vines, breath ragged and panicked. Behind her, the wind rushed with every flap of the monster’s wings as he continued to chase her through the once-wondrous garden.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, but why did you make things so hard, Little Lady?” he asked. She dived behind a planter, the subsequent blow shattering the pot and scattering dirt everywhere. Charlie bit her lip, then ran to the next planter before the sword could come down again. “We made you happy, didn’t we?” Again, the planter broke under the weight of the sword. She took off running again, periwinkles desperately searching for something, anything to help her get that gem. The stench of burning foliage hung heavily in the air. “We loved you. We-... well, I would’ve died for you. And you’re just throwing that all away, Little Lady?”

Charlie whirled now, the sword slicing past her face, missing her hair by a centimeter. She staggered, glaring as Other Lucifer landed in front of her. “My name is Charlie.” She dodged again when he flicked his sword upward for another attempt at a blow. “And I want to go home!”

“But this is your home,” Other Lucifer said. He lowered his sword, allowing her to take a few steps back. Black button eyes twitched lightly as he regarded her. “We would listen to you.” A forward thrust. A quick sidestep. “Laugh with you.” A back-handed slice. A running leap atop a planter. “Love you.” He charged. She leaped off the planter, then ran over to a nearby tree, placing herself behind it and using it as a makeshift shield.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she asked. Charlie forcefully suppressed a scream as she ducked while Other Lucifer thrust the sword into the tree. The wood caught fire. She rolled to the side and took off running again, glaring over her shoulder.

“I can’t say I do, Little Lady,” Other Lucifer said. He yanked the blade out of the tree, its lovely leaves now catching fire as well. “But I don’t need to get anything to know I love you!”

“Of course you don’t understand!” she shouted. The vines were coming for her even more quickly now. She took off running down the path. “You’re just a copy of my real dad made by a monster trying to replace my papa!”

The noise Other Lucifer let out was inhuman. It shattered the air around her, chilled her to the very bone. He took to the air, feathers falling, facial features warping into something truly grotesque.

She kept running.

“Princess!” 

Husk! Charlie whipped her head to the side, nearly squealing with glee when she saw the familiar graceful black and white body of the cat elegantly running at her side. He was leaping along the bricks that lined the pathway with a speed and grace only a creature like him could do. Yellow eyes flashed at her, an emotion very close to concern behind them.

“Head to the center! You’ll find something to help you there!” He snarled as he leaped over some vines now aiming for him. “Whatever you do, don’t close your eyes. Even if he has your father’s face.”

“That isn’t my dad,” she said. “My real dad isn’t a monster!”

Husk went silent for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll draw some of these vines away. You’ll need all the help you can get. Good luck, Princess.” Without another word, he dashed away in the opposite direction, a large amount of vines crawling after him.

Charlie’s heart pounded in her chest. She stole a glance over her shoulder and gasped at the hellish sight behind her. Other Lucifer was grinning almost maniacally, those green stitches bright and ghastly as he rose into the air. The flaming sword glowed menacingly, the red gem on top gleaming in the dancing light. Fear coiled in her stomach as she pushed herself to run faster, lungs burning, legs aching. She weaved desperately through the labyrinth of the garden, skin prickling from the intensity of the heat-singed air. 

Eventually, the vines got to her. She tripped as she neared the tree that formed the nose of her face. They wrapped around her ankles, sending her straight to the ground. The monocle fell off her face and spun away, carried by vines all the way to where Other Lucifer was stalking her. He paused for a brief moment, button eyes glinting. Then, he picked up the monocle. For a brief moment, he played with it between his long claws. Then, they closed over it, easily crushing the glass into bits of stardust. He opened his hand, Charlie nearly screaming as the precious tool fell to the ground in pieces. 

She had to keep running. Gritting her teeth against Charlie threw herself at the bricks surrounding the tree. Her porcelain hands grasped wildly, desperately trying to grab any sort of purchase to pull her away from the vines. As she did so, one hand managed to close on a metallic rod-like thing.

A crossbow.

The crossbow from that first night.

She only had seconds to react. She snatched the crossbow and checked that it was loaded. Then, she turned around, the vines digging into her ankles. She looked east, then up and watched as Other Lucifer rose high. When he reached the height of the quickly darkening moon, he unfurled his wings and dove, brandishing the flaming sword in his hand. In the glow of the flames, she saw… Dad’s face. No. Not his face. There was no kindness anywhere on it. No sky blue eyes. No sharp features softened by laughter and love. This was a doll. A copy. A sick imitation of the man who loved and raised her.

Her chest tightened. She raised the crossbow with both hands, took aim, and squeezed the trigger.

Other Lucifer froze in midair. His mouth opened in surprise. The buttons flashed a hundred different colors. For a brief moment in time, he was suspended, one hand still gripping the flaming sword, the other moving towards the new hole in his chest. He looked at her. His features softened. Then, he fell, feathers streaming from his wings. He landed on the ground in a crumpled heap, the flames from the sword scorching the vines around him and weakening them just enough for Charlie to break free. She stood and ran over to Other Dad’s still form.

He was… melting. A strange, slick black substance was leaking from the hole in his chest, oozing onto the ground. As this substance spread around him, he seemed to slowly sink into it as well. When he lifted his head to look at her, the glowing green thread had unraveled. Despite everything that had happened, Charlie felt a small bubble of guilt rise in her chest; it was like staring into a dark, twisted reflection of her own flesh and blood. He looked… softer now. Less like a malevolent beast and more like… no. She couldn’t think about that now.

“Take it…” one clawed hand reached up and offered her the small red gem, the doll-like flesh slowly melting into tar. Charlie bit her lip and took it from him, the gem warm in her hand. He was almost gone now - the entire lower half of his body had melted into a great black puddle, fallen feathers mingling in the sludge. 

Black button eyes flashed with something soft, gentle, and warm. Other Dad smiled gently as he used his thumb to wipe away a tear. Wait. When did she start crying…?

“Come on, Little Lady. Why the frown?” his voice was distorting now. Every word came out slurred. The words melded together like the feathers on his back. “After all this time, you can finally go back home…”

“I-“ One dripping finger pressed on her lips.

“Hide behind that bush, Little Lady. He’s coming.”

There were even more feathers falling now. So many that Other Dad seemed to be more feather than beast. They fell from his head, face, arms, neck, legs; anywhere feathers could still be found. Unable to help herself, Charlie obeyed and ran for the nearest large bush. Once she was sure she was hidden enough, she turned to face Other Dad, watching as he looked up at the now nearly fully eclipsed moon.

The glowing garden path beneath her feet shuddered and groaned as color began draining out of it, the luminescent stones now drowning in shades of white and gray. The flowers and trees around her silently wailed as they too were forced to give up their color, the twisting roots and delicate petals decaying before her very eyes. The fat, juicy fruits hanging from each tree shriveled, rivulets of dark red pouring down to the rapidly fading ground below. A cello hummed a low, dangerous note, then a storm of static wailed around her. Louder and louder the static became, until just as quickly as the noise appeared, everything went silent.

There was a tall figure standing in front of Other Dad now. Charlie resisted the urge to scream at the sight before her. The Radio Demon was… horrible looking. Even more so than before. He was even taller now, with red-tipped claws, gangly limbs, and even larger antlers that stuck out menacingly over his head. There was cotton sticking out of his body in numerous places, as though his insides were spilling out from splits in his body. His clothing was in absolute tatters, with sewing pins stuck into him as though trying to hold it all together. Most horrible of all was the stitching - there were glowing green stitches everywhere, from the sides of his mouth to his arms, legs, and face. With every breath and every movement, they strained and strained, as though barely keeping him together. He looked like a living, haunted rag doll. The sort you would either toss into a fire or keep locked up for the rest of its possessed life.

“Angel…” the Radio Demon’s voice was so distorted now that it was nearly unrecognizable now. There was not a single drop of Al anywhere in it. “You failed your hunt.”

“I did,” Other Dad’s voice distorted as well. It was as though it had split in two. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted to love us both. In your own way.” Then, a slight pause. His entire upper body was turning into sludge now. It was starting to drip out of his mouth. From behind his eyes. Despite this, he continued to smile up at the Radio Demon. “I… love you. Both of you. I’m sorry I won’t be here to see our little family grow.”

One red-tipped claw reached out and cupped the back of his neck. The other pressed into his lips. Charlie shuddered, nearly gagging at the intimate gesture. It felt… wrong. Loving but not. Human but… no. Certainly not. God, she wanted to puke.

“I loved you…” the Radio Demon said, the static reaching a desperate, feverish crescendo. The thumb pressing against Other Dad’s face wiped away the slowly forming sludge. “Like a doll.”

She wasn’t sure if Other Dad even heard that. As soon as those words left the Radio Demon’s mouth, he melted completely. The blackened sludge pooled on the ground, then began crumbling like dust. She watched from her hiding space as the Radio Demon bent down and picked up the glittering disk. The disk that Other Vaggie had stolen to gain her wings. The disk that Other Dad used to summon his. Then, without another word, he disappeared, melding into the shadows of the nearest tree.

“It’s time, girl,” the voice of the kindly girl whispered. Charlie looked down at the gem in her hand, watching as her face smiled up from it. Despite the smile, there was just the slightest tinge of fear. “But beware, the Radio Demon won’t keep his end of the deal. He’ll try everything he can to keep you here.”

Charlie sighed. “I know… but I don’t have any other choice.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar black and white shape approached. Husk tilted his head at her, yellow eyes almost glowing against the now gray backdrop of the garden. Charlie frowned when she saw that his fur seemed to be sticking up. His tail brushed low to the ground. His ears were flattened.

“Husk…?”

“The ways in and out of this place…” Husk said quietly. His tail flicked nervously around his form. “They’ve gone… flat. They aren’t there anymore.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

“I guess we’re both in this together now,” Charlie said quietly. She bent over and scooped up the cat, noting for the first time just how fast his heart was beating. Just how much he was trembling in the face of everything that had happened. She lifted one hand and scratched behind his ears. Husk let out a strange noise that sounded almost like a purr. Then, he growled and glared back at her.

She faced the front door.

“Let’s go save my dads.”

The haunting melody of a piano met her ears as she crossed the threshold. Turning to her right, she saw that the door to the drawing room had slightly cracked open. Clutching Husk close to her, she took a deep breath. There was still a little bit of the game left to play.

She had to be brave.

The Radio Demon’s back was to her as she entered, long claws gently flying over the old-timey piano. The song he played was hauntingly beautiful, a quiet tribute to the world he had built but also destroyed. He didn’t move from his position as she entered, seeming to focus instead even more on creating that deathly song. On the small table next to him sat a golden fiddle, its neck broken in two. It was covered in cobwebs, as though the musician who played it had stopped doing so long ago. The glittering disk sat atop it, like a small shrine to the angel who could no longer fly.

Her Wellingtons squeaked against the floor as she entered, doing her best to ignore the squelch and pulse of the fleshly furniture in the room. Charlie stood next to the golden fiddle as she stared at the Radio Demon, waiting patient as he continued to play the slow, quiet tune. Eventually, he produced a complicated bridge, then the song winded down. For a moment, he sat there in silence. Then, he closed the piano and turned to her. Black button eyes glinted in the light of the fireflies, but they were different now. Dark and hollow, yet still malicious. Very little glee left. Annoyed.

“So you’re back,” he said quietly, static lacing his words. Black button eyes twitched in the direction of the cat in her arms. “And you brought the vermin in with you.”

Charlie frowned. “I brought a friend.”

“You brought a poor appetizer,” the Radio Demon said. Canned laughter sounded from the air. Then, a pause. “You truly are a horrible little girl. First, you run into the road and have your step-father get run over by a car. Then, you get your little friend eviscerated and turned into dirty laundry. And finally? You slay your own father.” For each point he listed, he held up one red-tipped claw. The smile widened, straining the glowing green stitches. “Perhaps we aren’t so different, you and I.”

“I’m nothing like you,” she hissed. This caused the Radio Demon to smile even more. He stood up, looming over her at his full height. She swallowed but did not break her gaze. In her arms, Husk began to stir, pressing his small body even closer to her chest.

“Well?” the Radio Demon asked. He tilted his head with a sickening crack, button eyes glinting. “Did you find the ghost eyes, little Lightning Bug?”

Charlie reached into her bag and pulled out the three round objects. The Radio Demon’s static flickered and popped as he regarded them. Then, he raised one clawed hand expectantly.

She stared down at the hand, then looked back up at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

A tiny whine of frequency. “Ah… that’s right. You still need to find your old parents… probably so you can hurt them even more, hm?” He laughed. “Well? Produce them.”

The kindly girl’s words echoed in her mind as periwinkle eyes darted towards the tiny door. He would do everything in his power to keep her here. The deal didn’t include unlocking the door. She needed time. She needed to think.

“... They’re behind that door,” she said, pointing to it. The Radio Demon’s head turned with a sickening crack to look at it. “You locked them behind it.”

“Did I now?” the Radio Demon asked. He melted into the shadows, quickly appearing next to the little door. He reached for his stomach, long claws ripping into the green stitching keeping it together. From this new tear, he pulled out the ornate black key, pulling it loose from bits of cotton. Then, he turned and bent low, inserting the key into the door.

Periwinkle eyes looked around frantically. She put the eyes back into her bag. She had heard something earlier when she was last in this room. It was a tiny thump, like cloth on glass. They had to be somewhere in here. But where? She didn’t have the monocle anymore. She had to do this on her own. Pursing her lips, she searched the fleshy furniture in the room, sliding from the armoire to the couch, the armchair, the decorations on the wall, all the way to the fireplace-

Her gaze landed on the mantle. There were snow globes there, just like in her world. The center one - the one featuring Mount Fuji - was frosted over. The tiny thump sounded again. And again. And once more. Her eyes widened. The middle snow globe shook very, very slightly. 

She looked down at Husk. Husk looked back. He slowly blinked those great yellow eyes. Taking a deep breath, she silently slid her hand over to the glittering disk seated atop the golden fiddle.

“You’re wrong, Lightning Bug!”

The Radio Demon’s grin turned absolutely malicious as he stood up, revealing the empty corridor. But Charlie didn’t stop for a moment. She grabbed the glittering disc and shoved it on Husk’s back before throwing the cat at the monster. Husk yowled at first in surprise, then snarled as red and black wings burst from the disk on his back. He flapped them once, then propelled himself directly onto the Radio Demon’s face. Sharp claws gleamed menacingly as he hooked them into the button eyes. The Radio Demon snarled and grabbed at the cat, desperately trying to yank him off.

In the same moment, Charlie charged at the mantle, grabbing the frosty snow globe off of its perch and shoving it onto her bag. Then, she began running towards the little door. The Radio Demon finally succeeded in ripping Husk off his face, twin black buttons falling to the floor as the cat yowled and crashed into the fleshy armoire. The monster snarled as he turned to face Charlie, a blank expanse and torn green threads where his eye sockets should be. Rivulets of tarry black blood ran down his face.

“You cheating little shit!”

He stomped on the ground, the entire room doubled in size. Charlie screamed as the little door rushed out of her reach, now even further away than before. Mist poured into the room as the floor softened under unseen waters, as the heavy scent of earth and decay flooded the air. Cypress trees burst from the murky waters of the bayou, twisted branches reaching our like gnarled fingers grasping at the soaring ceiling above. The air hummed with the sounds of insects as the cries of unseen creatures sounded from within the murky depths. 

Once-solid ground now shifted and swayed beneath her feet. Each step she took seemed to cause her to sink further into the spongy earth. Darkness pulsed around her as she desperately fought against the bayou’s hold, as she waded and waded and waded towards that little door. Meanwhile, the roar of static and the splash of water behind her signaled the coming of the Radio Demon. She looked over her shoulder, eyes going wide in horror as the eyeless creature stalked closer to her, sensitive ears twitching, grin dripping with malicious intent.

The oppressive heat of the bayou pressed down on her, burning the breath in her lungs. She willed herself to run faster, the mud squelching beneath her feet. Behind her, she saw the shadow of the Radio Demon’s ear twitching as he heard her. Water splashed up behind her as he turned, voice distorting even more as his static flailed wildly.

“Found you!”

The door was right in front of her now. The Radio Demon charged at her, quickly gaining ground. Summoning all the strength and will she had left, Charlie leaped for the corridor, landing just inside it. She whirled and grabbed the key from the lock, Husk flying in just as she was about to close the door.

“You dare disobey your father!?”

Shadowy tendrils flew out of the water, rushing for the door. Charlie snarled as she grabbed the door and tried to shut it, only for the tendrils to grab at it and hold it open. Tears ran down at her face as she pulled and pulled and pulled, watching as the enormous form of the Radio Demon rushed towards her. His cane was in his hand now, the microphone top gleaming menacingly - almost glaring at her. 

“Help me!” Charlie sobbed as she threw her entire weight against the shadowy tendrils in an attempt to close the door. As though responding to her plea, she felt her bag grow warm. Ghostly hands - three smaller sets, two larger ones - flew out of her bag and pressed on the door, slowly but surely forcing it shut. The Radio Demon snarled as he thrust his cane through the door. 

One final moment of resistance. One final push from her and the ghostly hands. Then, the top of the Radio Demon’s cane snapped off, the creature letting out a truly unearthly screech, like metal grinding against asphalt. A green wisp flew out of the now broken cane. Charlie thrust the key into the keyhole and turned it, locking the door with a very satisfying clunk. The room now hidden behind it glowed a malevolent green as the Radio Demon pounded on the door from behind.

“Get back here!” the Radio Demon’s voice screeched as she and Husk took off down the corridor. “You’re mine!”

The corridor was different now. It was warm, wet, and seemed to go uphill. Every touch of her hand against a floor or a wall sent shivers down her spine. It was like the whole place was suddenly covered in downy fur. It undulated back and forth, as though it were breathing. The wind howled around her. When she touched the wall next, her hand came away slimy and wet. She pulled back with a small start.

She could see ghostly figures standing in front of her. Two adults, three children. She felt something scuttling in the dark between her feet. Gritting her teeth, she kicked it back, listening as it tumbled through the wet corridor with a sickening squelch. She couldn’t stop; if she stopped, she would never see daylight again. This corridor was strange. Strange, slow, and ancient. Far more ancient than the Radio Demon. 

And it knew she was here.

Daylight. Charlie let out a cry as she rushed for it, slamming her shoulder into the little door at the end. She flung herself at it, bursting through the door into the drawing room. Her drawing room. Husk leaped out as well, wings and glittering disk gone. Without missing a beat, she turned around and slammed the little door shut, locking it with the key. Then, crying, panting, gasping, she slid down and braced herself against it, watching through blurred vision as Husk approached her.

“Good… kitty…” she murmured, reaching over to scratch behind his ears. The cat let out a low purr before giving her a yellow-eyed glare. “Heh… I know. I’m sorry for throwing you at him. But… you got wings out of it, right?” She laughed. “You’ll have to tell me later what it was like to fly.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out the ghosts’ eyes. She smiled down at them before putting them back. Then, she reached inside again for-

The snow globe was gone.

No.

No no no no no.

It couldn’t be gone. She just had it. She had even made sure not to drop it in the tunnel! Panic rose in her chest as she looked around, searching the floor. She bumped into her dad’s top hat, then pushed it aside; she would deal with it later. The gleam of a puddle in the morning light stopped her. Slowly, she looked up at the mantle. The center snow globe was shattered. Clear liquid dripped from it. There was absolutely nothing inside. Charlie blinked before looking out the window. The sky was a lovely clear blue with fluffy white clouds. A sky so similar to the one that hung over New Orleans. It was beautiful. It was home.

Outside, the front door unlocked with a satisfying click.

Chapter Text

Charlie looked up as the door to the drawing room creaked open. Lucifer and Alastor Morningstar stood before her, blue eyes wide, snow covering their shoulders. Charlie blinked at them. They blinked at her. For a few moments, none of them moved; the snow rather quickly melted away from her fathers’ shoulders, as though it had never existed at all.

“Charlie…” Dad knelt down on one knee and opened his arms. “It’s us. We’re back.”

She stood up but hesitated, remembering clearly the way Other Dad had been able to disguise himself. What if this was just more of the same? What if she didn’t escape after all? What if she was actually still trapped in the other world, under some sort of sedation, getting the button eyes sewn on her now?

Her feelings must’ve shown on her face. Confusion, hurt, and understanding flashed behind her father’s blue eyes. He stood up again, scratching the back of his neck. He glanced over at her step-father now, who raised an eyebrow. Then, he indicated with his head to the utility closet behind them; the one that held the house’s old water heater. Dad’s eyes widened, but he nodded before running towards the closet. Alastor silently glanced at Charlie as he left. The right corner of his mouth curled up just a bit. He usually made this expression when he knew something she didn’t. It was… strangely reassuring for some reason.

Dad came back with a plain white box in his hands topped with red ribbon. Charlie blinked at it, then watched as he knelt, put the box on the floor, and gave it a strong push. It slid over to her, spinning until it hit her bayou mud-covered boot. She looked back up at her dads. Alastor was leaning against the doorframe now, smile relaxed, but shoulders tensed. Dad continued kneeling on the floor, brow furrowed in slight worry. The dark circles under his eyes contrasted sharply against his pale skin.

Inhale.

Exhale.

She picked up the box. It wasn’t too heavy. And it wasn’t ticking, so that was good. It was quite a bit bigger than the last box she had received from a pair of dads. Those had to be good signs, right? There was no way that buttons would be this heavy or this big. This… had to be something else. Despite all of this, she still felt a coil of fear rolling around in her stomach. She looked up at her dads, who were watching her almost expectantly with concern furrowing their brows. 

She wanted to tell them to be brave.

She wanted to tell them that things were okay.

But even she didn’t know if they were yet.

Charlie took a big breath in and undid the ribbon. Then, she opened the box. For a brief moment, her heart stopped as the image of buttons sitting atop a sea of pink satin flashed through her mind. But there wasn’t any pink satin inside. It was white tissue paper. And seated atop this white tissue paper?

A pair of smiling green frog boots.

A storm of emotions welled up in her. Pressure built up behind her eyes. Her heart hammered in her chest. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Mouth trembling, she slowly raised her gaze to look at her dads.

Alastor’s long fingers squeezed the head of his cane. “I… told your dad to aim for the corners.” His voice was soft and calm, just like any radio host’s should be. Underneath it was a gentle current of unspoken emotion that was threatening to spill over. “But… Just like you, he had to be boring and use money to get them instead.”

The box dropped to the floor. She surged forward, feet flying across the creaky wooden floor as she raced into Dad’s waiting arms. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Her dad stood up with her in his arms, another pair of arms wrapping around them as their tears mingled together. She buried her face into Dad’s neck and inhaled: freshly picked apples, cinnamon, and autumn winds. Then, she did the same with Papa: sharp spices, strawberries, and a warm summer breeze. 

They were okay.

They were free.

She was home.

Lunch was a team effort. Alastor had absolutely refused to eat another bite of gruyere, and despite the clearly annoyed look in Lucifer’s eye, she couldn’t help but giggle when she saw him sneak the large block from the fridge and toss it into the trash. Then, he got out an onion, garlic cloves, celery, and a green bell pepper. One of these days, she was definitely going to take over veggie chopping duty, but she supposed it was best to not try to fight her father over it while he held a sharp knife in his hand. He was wearing that silly top hat of his too, having picked it up from the floor after finding it in the drawing room. Papa, on the other hand, was already carefully skinning a whole chicken and chopping Andouille sausage, seated at the kitchen table so that he wouldn’t need to stand on his bad leg. And Charlie? Charlie had the honor of making the roux.

Everything always starts with a good roux.

Unfortunately, she burnt the first batch. Then, Dad dropped half of the chopped onions onto the floor because he was definitely crying over them regardless of how much he denied it. After that, she burnt the second batch of roux. Then Papa got up to make it instead and ended up burning a third batch. They ran out of flour at that point so Dad had to go borrow some from Miss Rosie and Miss Carmilla. On his way back in, Ser Pentious had apparently tried to get into the house to talk to Papa. Her step-father actually got up at this point to play distraction so that Charlie and her dad could finally throw the vegetables into the pot and brown the meat before bringing everything to a boil and adding the (fourth) batch of roux. By the time everything was said and done, lunch was a lot more like dinner.

Oh well, at least the ladyfingers Miss Rosie gave them were a nice snack.

Charlie watched as her dad dumped half a bottle of tabasco and way too much liquid smoke all over his bowl of gumbo, the thick stew turning a slightly alarming shade of dark red as he did so. Then, she looked over at her step-father, who was crushing a bag of dried shrimp to dump on top, with a bag of crawtators sitting next to him ready to go through the same thing. Since she wasn’t a heathen like the two of them, she ate her gumbo plain as Papa’s mom would’ve taught her to. The rich, vibrant taste of the stew danced across her senses as she sighed, the warmth of happiness and home flooding her at long last.

Charlie was the first to break the silence. “So… how much do you remember?”

Both of her dads stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Then, they looked at each other. Alastor ripped open his bag of dried shrimp and emptied it into his bowl. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“To be honest with you… not much, Firefly,” he said. He mixed the bits of dried shrimp into the gumbo, the stew now turning distinctly chunky. “Your father and I-” he trailed off, cheeks reddening. “... We finished some unfinished celebratory business. We went to bed soon after that. I… felt myself falling asleep one moment. The next? We were freezing.”

“I remember seeing you,” Dad said quietly. He stirred his gumbo and tasted it, then emptied the rest of the tabasco into it. “You… God, CharChar. You looked so terrified.” A sliver of anxiety entered his voice as he gripped his spoon tighter. “And I was too. We both were. The only thing we could think of was getting back to you, so we tried to… to break whatever weird glass was in front of us-”

“And when we couldn't reach you… he took us,” Papa said. He was gripping his spoon so hard his knuckles turned white. A million different emotions flitted across his face. His voice trembled when he spoke next. “I… God, Firefly. It was a nightmare. That… That thing… I don’t know what it was, but it was monstrous.”

Charlie pursed her lips. “That was the Radio Demon. He took you two to get to me.” Lucifer looked up sharply, his brows furrowing. Alastor swallowed his gumbo too quickly and began coughing. Dark shadows crossed over their faces. “I don’t know why, but he wanted me. Probably to eat me. And the angel guy wanted me too, but I don’t think he wanted to eat me. A-And I know you both told me to run, but…” she took a deep breath. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to… to run away and leave you two there.” Her voice rose higher and pitch as she spoke, eyes once again growing moist. She dropped her hands to the table. “So I… I-”

Both her fathers reached out for her hands at the same time. Dad took her left, Papa her right. Lucifer placed his other hand over hers and gave her a tight squeeze. Al used his thumb to massage tiny circles into the back of her palm. She let out a hiccup as hot tears began running down her face once again. She heard two chairs scoot closer to her. Then, she felt a warm, callused hand touch her cheek. Papa smiled as he used his thumb to wipe her tears away.

“You saved us,” he said quietly. His voice was tight, strained with unspoken emotion. “You woke us up from the nightmare. You were so brave.” He pulled her into his chest, planting a kiss on her head. “We’re so proud of you, Charlie.”

“Don’t you ever do that again, though,” Dad said, letting out a wet laugh. He leaned in and began pressing kisses to her temple, then her cheeks. She giggled and tried to smack him away. “When we say run, you run. O-Or else you’re… I dunno. You’re grounded. U–Until cats fly.” He hiccuped. “I… God, Charlie. I love you so much.” He rained more kisses down on her, ignoring her smacks. “I love you more than every star in the sky and every apple in Eden.”

Charlie let out a laugh, then a hiccup. “I-I was so scared. I was s-so scared but I-I needed to be brave. I needed to save you!” She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Al frowned for just a second, then reached for his napkin and attacked her nose with it. She squealed and smacked his hands. 

“What you need to do is wipe your nose on a napkin, Firefly,” Alastor scolded. Despite his words, his voice was gentle. Silvery tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. Relief was written all over his face. “Not your sleeve. You’re a little-” he hesitated, dark eyes flashing. “A little… princess. A strong, courageous little princess. The bravest one of all.”

Another laugh. Another hiccup. Another wipe of her nose - on a fresh napkin this time. “I’m brave b-because I have the best and bravest dads ever.” She flashed a bright grin. “Dad, Papa… you helped me and the ghosts close the door on the Radio Demon forever! We beat him ‘cuz of you!”

Al froze. His dark eyes widened. He looked first at her, then up at Lucifer. Her dad’s blue eyes smiled back at him. Charlie pressed her ear to her papa’s chest. His heart was racing. She giggled. His heart probably hadn’t raced like that since his and Dad’s wedding day.

“Papa, are you okay?” she asked perhaps a bit too innocently. “The snow didn’t freeze you, did it?”

That seemed to stop Al from short-circuiting. He let out a laugh, then flicked her nose. Her nasty, snotty nose. “No. I’m just… thinking.”

“About what?”

Something dark and mischievous flashed from behind those eyes. “About happiness. About how much I love you, Firefly. About being home. And about finishing this food before it gets too cold because we can’t stop talking about the nightmare.”

She hesitated. “You… You really think it was all just a nightmare?”

Her dads looked at each other again. Alastor reached out and laid his hand atop the hand Lucifer had resting on the table. Their fingers threaded together. For a moment, they held this silence, simply gazing into each other’s eyes. A small smile quirked up on Dad’s lips. A small laugh escaped Papa’s mouth. Then, they turned to face her.

“Just because it was a nightmare… doesn’t make the trauma any less real, Firefly.”

“After the surgery, we’ll get you an appointment to talk to a professional. You can talk to them about anything. The car accident, the nightmare…” 

“How your terrible father tried to poison us with his cooking,” Alastor smirked while Lucifer scowled at him. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“We should’ve done that months ago,” Lucifer said, his face softening. “We’re so sorry, kiddo. We should’ve been better parents.”

Charlie sniffled and shook her head. “No… You were always the best parents.” Then, she ran forward to hug them. “I love you, Dad. I love you, Papa. Thanks for always being home for me when I-” Then, it hit her.

“The surgery!?”

Papa’s smile widened as he happily started scooping gumbo into his mouth. “It’s scheduled for next week! I pulled a few favors with Ser Pentious upstairs. Apparently, he knows Dr. Volund personally and was able to get me added on rather quickly.”

Dad sipped on his weird tabasco and liquid smoke with a little bit of gumbo soup, a smirk darkening his features just a touch. “I guess I have to give the weird drunk guy upstairs some credit. But I still owe him at least a duck to the face.”

“He isn’t drunk, Dad,” Charlie said. “Just… eccentric.”

“Ah, yes, the exact opposite of how your father was when he asked me out,” Papa said, shooting a snarky grin his husband’s way. “Not eccentric, just drunk! Very drunk.”

Her father’s left eye twitched. “... CharChar. Apple Pie. Why don’t you head out to the garden while Al and I clean up?” He gave her step-father a sharp-toothed grin. “I’ll have a drink, then we’ll have dessert.”

She wasn’t really sure what was happening, but a walk in the garden sounded good. Maybe she could look around and find ways to make everything more colorful. Not other world colorful, but… her world colorful. Like blooming tulips or blossoming magnolias. Maybe a rosebush or two. She smiled as she excused herself from the table and ran outside.

Her clean, new green frog boots squeaked slightly as she exited the house. Dusk was just beginning to settle around her, a soft golden light bathing the dark green and white expanse. The air was still, filled with the subtle earthy scent of soil, as cheerful birdsong gradually give way to the chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. 

She turned her gaze towards the eastern gate, periwinkles widening as she saw the little shadowed figure standing by the gate. She began walking faster, then jogging, then running. She sprinted towards the figure, golden hair flying behind her. The moment she reached the gate, she yanked it open and pulled a very surprised Vaggie into a tight hug, the girl only letting out a soft cry before her arms wrapped around Charlie in a tight embrace.

“Vaggie!” Charlie half-shouted, tightening her hold around the girl. “Vaggie, I-I’m…! I’m…!”

Vaggie let out a soft laugh as she pulled away, hazel eye shining. “Apology accepted, Morningstar. I… I was hoping I’d run into you out here.” She turned a pretty shade of red. “I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to see me after everything, and- God, Morningstar, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make your dads go missing o-or summon whatever evil witch thing to the house or-”

She pulled Vaggie in for another hug, this time hugging so tight the other girl’s back popped. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. I’m… I’m sorry for just dumping everything on you. I shouldn’t have done that. I… it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known about the doll o-or everything that happened behind the door.”

Vaggie let out a tiny sigh and patted Charlie on the back. “I’m sorry for not believing you before. I should’ve-” She swallowed. “Well, actually, I don’t know what I should’ve done. Maybe actually gone through the door with you again and tried to help you out more. I dunno.”

Charlie ran one hand through her hair. It was all tangled and messy. How long had it been like that? It was honestly a bit embarrassing. “I’m just… God, Vaggie. I’m just so glad you came back!”

Vaggie laughed. “If I let one little fight get in the way of me making friends, then I would- erm… Actually? Nevermind.” She reached into her pocket. “After I left you, I went back home and told my abuela what happened. I thought she would call you crazy or something. Or maybe tell me that I was missing something. Turns out, I was.” She pulled a small photo out of her pocket, offering it to Charlie. “My abuela showed me this after I told her. And… well, like I said before. You’re a lot of things, Morningstar, but you aren’t a liar.”

The photo was an old black and white one featuring two young girls. One of them was very obviously the kind looking ghost girl; she was sitting on the left and grinning, long hair cut with somewhat messy bangs. Her wide, kind eyes gleamed happily at the photographer. The other girl seemed… quieter somehow, despite being nearly identical. Her hair was styled in neat curls, a small smile gracing her features. Her eyes were just a touch narrower than her doppelganger’s. Both of them wore pretty white dresses with long sashes cinching the waist. They sat together hand-in-hand on what Charlie recognized as the very back porch she had just exited out of. 

“That’s my abuela, Sera,” Vaggie said, pointing to the quieter looking girl. Her finger then shifted to the kind-looking girl beside her. “And that’s… well, I guess she’s my abuela too. That’s Emily. She… She’s the reason why my abuela never let families move in until you did.” She pursed her lips. “If… God, if she kept to her rule, then maybe none of this would’ve happened-”

Charlie shook her head. “I… It’s okay, Vaggie. Really.”

Vaggie’s eye widened. “No it’s not! You went through Hell, Morningstar. You look and smell like you’ve been through even worse than that-”

Charlie stuck out her tongue. “First off, mean! I’m not smelly. Second…” She smiled at Vaggie. “I’m glad I came here. Because if I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have met you!”

Vaggie blinked. Then, she ducked her head, her cheeks reddening. “Jesus, Morningstar… way to make things cheesy.” She cleared her throat. “Nice boots, by the way. I guess you found your dads?”

Charlie’s grin widened. “I did. They’re okay too. A-And the door is locked. Forever.” She hesitated. “I… I think it’s over. The Radio Demon can’t get out of it. There’s only one key and, well…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the ornate black key, showing it to Vaggie. “I’m carrying it around with me now. So he definitely can’t hurt us again.”

Vaggie blinked as she regarded the key. “You might wanna do more than just stuff it into your pocket, Morningstar. It might fall out.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bit of string. “Here. This might help.”

Charlie handed over the key, then watched as Vaggie laced the string through it, making sure to secure the key to its center with a series of complicated-looking knots. Then, she gestured for Charlie to turn around. The cold, heavy weight of the key settled against her chest as her friend repeated those complicated knots on the back of her neck. Once finished, Charlie turned around and gave the new key necklace a solid tug. The knots held strong no matter how hard she pulled. Good.

She looked up at Vaggie again and smiled. “Where did you learn to do that?”

The girl ducked her head. “I was a-”

“Charlie!” her dad was standing on the porch, leaning against the railing. His pale face was touched with just a bit of pink. His blue eyes shone brightly even from so far away. “We’re ready for dessert! Get back in here before Al sobers up!” 

Unable to help herself, Charlie let out a laugh. It was so nice to laugh - really laugh - at something silly. There was no touch of malice, no nightmare hiding in the wings. Just her, her dad, and a bag of gross dried shrimp.

She wouldn’t trade this for the world.

“Hey,” Vaggie said, reaching out and grabbing her wrist before she could leave. “I just… Well. Just wanted to say that looks nice on you.”

Charlie tilted her head. “That?”

The corner of Vaggie’s hazel eye crinkled. “That laugh. And that smile. It looks pretty on you, Charlie.” Then, she let go and whirled around, running off down the path. Charlie felt her cheeks grow warm as she watched her friend’s retreating back, brunette locks bouncing cheerfully against the black jacket. For a brief moment, she stopped and stared, yearning to follow. What sort of adventure would Vaggie take them on?

“Ohhhh Apple Seed!” Dad shouted. “We’re about to start making apple crisp without youuuuuu!”

She whirled around and ran towards the house. “Coming, coming!”

Charlie slowly trudged down the stairs later that night, belly full and jiggling from too much gumbo and apple crisp. Dad had actually let her slice the apples for once, and Papa had personally sat in front of the oven and watched the thing bake until it was a perfect golden brown. Then, naturally, they let her have the first slice, plus seconds. And after Dad cut her off and walked off to use the bathroom, Papa smiled and let her have a third before he came back.

Unfortunately, so much apple crisp and gumbo meant that she was also a bit thirsty. So this meant she would need a tall glass of water from the kitchen. As she moved from the stairs into the hallway, she noted a golden light streaming from her dad’s study. Was he up late working again? But Miss Rosie had told her the settlement was all good and done. And from what Papa explained later on, that meant he wouldn’t need to work so much anymore. So what was happening?

“-we invite?”

“Well, I think it’s pretty obvious isn’t it? Rosie and Carmilla downstairs. The Madrigals. The… eccentric guy upstairs. Lilith too,” Dad laughed. “We’ll need to ask Sera if we can fix up the house if Lilith says yes.”

“And get rid of the 150-year-old charm?” Papa asked. “I thought you liked having the pipes rattle our walls whenever you turned on the sink.”

Dad snorted. “And what about you? Don’t you just love it when the hot water runs out and you’re just shivering in the shower?”

“I run baths, darling,” Papa said. “With all the best fixings. Or at least I used to until someone mistook one of my bath bombs for a toilet cleaner.”

“Hey! That toilet water was the sparkliest, most beautiful galactic toilet water in the history of this whole house. My shits were so glittery they were holy!”

They shared a laugh at that. Charlie grinned as she pressed herself closer to the wall. She hadn’t heard them laugh like that in months. Not since they moved from New Orleans. For a few more moments, a companionable silence fell between the two. Then, she heard a shuffling. Then some soft footfalls as someone - most likely Dad judging from the even stride - crossed the room. There was some clothes ruffling. A pair of small groans. Then some quiet chuckles.

“I love you,” Dad murmured. He sounded happy, relaxed, and breathless. “Both of you. I’m… fuck. I’m so glad we made it back home, Treble Clef.”

She could hear the smile in Papa’s voice, feel the way his eyes lit up. “I love you too… wherever you and Charlie are is my home.”

She should give them some time to themselves. Her water could wait. Charlie smiled as she turned, careful not to step on the squeaky floorboards as she walked back to her room.

It was good to be home.

The dragonfly window seemed to greet her cheerfully as she entered her room, the fairy lights twinkling up above. She paused when she looked towards her bed, eyes widening at the fuzzy black and white shape lounging on it. 

“How’d you get in here?” She asked with a grin. Husk blinked at her then stretched, moving to the side so she could lay down. She pulled her bag off her nightstand towards her, then dug around for the round ghosts’ eyes. When she found them, she pulled them out and showed them to the cat. “Think it’s time to free them?”

Husk purred in response. Without missing a beat, she placed the eyes under her pillow and laid down. Within seconds, her breathing had evened out and she slipped off into-

Her ceiling morphed and shimmered like a canvas above her. A soft, ethereal glow enveloped her room. Specks of light twinkled into existence, each dot a distant star in the vast expanse of space. Slowly, these sparks of light moved towards each other, dancing and gleaming until they formed constellations, swirling galaxies, and shooting stars.

Charlie sat up in wonder as she stared at the ceiling. Then, three figures appeared: the fiery-haired girl, the tall wildly grinning girl, and finally the kindly girl. They all had eyes now - big, beautiful eyes. They flew around her laughing, careening, showing off their new wings and halos. When they settled down, they floated in front of her still grinning. 

“Ya did it, girly!” The tall one said cheerfully. “You freed us! We got our eyes back.”

“I own my soul again,” the smallest girl giggled. “Now I can go wherever I want in the dark and endless void. Weeee!”

“You did a wonderful, wonderful thing for us,” the kindly girl said, eyes shimmering. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”

Charlie smiled back. “I’m so glad it’s all over!”

There was a pause. Then, all of the ghosts’ facial expressions darkened. They looked at each other, then at her. Charlie pursed her lips. Her stomach sank.

“It… It isn’t over, is it?”

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” the kindly girl said. She took both of Charlie’s hands in her own. “But the Radio Demon only swore he would let us all go. He never swore that he would leave you alone afterwards.”

A beat of silence. An inhale. An exhale. 

“He wants the key.”

“That’s the ticket,” the tall girl said. A frown graced her features. “If he gets his claws on it, he’ll be able to free himself.”

“And we don’t want that,” the small girl giggled. “There are enough bad people out there! He would put them all to shame and what fun would that be?”

“… I have to wake up now,” Charlie said. She looked at the ghosts. “I… Thank you. For being with me through all of us.”

The kindly girl squeezed her hands once last time before the three of them began floating away. “Thank you, Charlie Morningstar. For giving us another chance at moving onward.”

Charlie smiled up at her. “Good luck where you head next, Emily Madrigal.”

Those big hazel eyes blinked, an unknowable emotion flashing behind them. Then, she smiled and waved. In the next second, the ghosts were gone, leaving Charlie staring at an uneven ceiling once again. First, she checked under her pillow. The ghost eyes had shattered. Good. Then, she laid back down.

She waited. 

There was a scuffling sound outside her bedroom window. She saw a shadow behind that dragonfly stained glass. It tried to scratch its way in, then seemed to give up and move to the next window. She had a clear view of it now.

The red microphone from atop the Radio Demon’s cane glared at her with one twitching red eye. It scuttled around on numerous thin needle-like legs, scratching erratically at her windows. Charlie watched as it rushed around frantically, spider-like in its movements. She reached into her shirt and pulled out the black key. The red eye quivered in manic delight then the little microphone started scratching at her door with renewed vigor. 

He was never going to leave her alone. 

She turned to Husk, who was awake now and glaring at the thing with his big yellow eyes. “We need to end this tonight. Can you go get Vaggie and have her meet me by that well?”

Husk blinked. Then, he leaped off the bed and gracefully ran out her bedroom door. Charlie watched as that black and white tail disappeared, then turned once again to face the microphone. 

Time to be brave. 

She got out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs, passing her dad snoring away in his and Papa’s room. She went to the kitchen where Dad’s white top hat still sat on the kitchen table from earlier. She put the hat on her head, careful not to let it cover her eyes. She found Papa’s cane by the door to the garden and grabbed that too. Then, she pulled on her green frog boots. Taking a deep breath, she faced the garden door. 

Time to be brave. 

She heard the distant scuttling of the microphone as she quickly walked past the east gate and into the woods. Her heart hammered, the very air around her thick with anxiety as she moved in the direction of the well. Dimly, she wondered where Husk was; hopefully Vaggie didn’t live too far.

“Oh little Lightning Bug… I’m so disappointed in you.”

It was the Radio Demon’s voice. Was that microphone a speaker too? Charlie felt bile rising in her throat at his words, a shiver spreading through her entire body. Her chest tightened as freezing cold invisible claws wrapped around her heart and lungs. Her every breath burned. Her hands twitched and trembled as her stomach turned and twisted.

She kept moving. Faster and faster. She was running now. She had to keep moving. She couldn’t let the voice get into her head.

“You really are so horrible and selfish, leaving me all alone. Then again, what did I expect? You killed your own flesh and blood as he told you he loved you. Why would you show a stranger to your family any more mercy?”

The moon was waning gibbous tonight. The shadows of the trees danced ominously as she walked, each step quietly summoning the crunch of sticks. Finger-like branches stretched towards the sky, the air heavy with the stench of damp earth. Charlie swallowed as she focused on the path before her, forcing her feet to continue running even as the rustling around her grew louder, as the scuttling grew more frantic.

“There’s something I just don’t quite understand, Lightning Bug. After I gave you everything, you still ran back to him. He’s broken, Lightning Bug! There’s no use for a broken doll - who would want a toy who can’t dance and play?”

What would Papa do in this situation? Oh right. She opened her mouth, voice frantic and dry as she sang. 

“More than anything, more than anything 

I’ll protect you and I’ll love you more than anything-”

“Oh Lightning Bug… why keep a broken doll who can only smile? And how long do you think it will keep on smiling for you?”

“SHUT! UP!” she screamed, forcing herself to run even faster. “Papa isn’t a doll! Dad isn’t a doll! I-I-” she choked as she ran, nearly stumbling over a pebble in the path. “I’m not a doll!”

She ran with desperate urgency, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she darted down the dirt path, her breath coming in ragged pants. All around her, the shadows danced with malevolent glee, the trees forming grotesque images of nature and nightmare. She covered her ears and kept running, screaming whenever any branch or twig hit her feet, wondering if it was really the microphone’s thin, needle-like legs all along.

Eventually, the scuttling of the microphone faded, the Radio Demon’s words continuing to echo in her ears. Soon enough, the path opened up to a tiny clearing where a single figure awaited her; one hazel eye seemed to glow in the light of the moon. She let out a tiny, wordless cry of relief.

“Charlie!” Vaggie said as she ran over. Charlie grinned at the sight of her and ran forward as well, enveloping the other girl in a tight hug. She smelled like blooming magnolias and chicory wood. Home. 

“Husk was really frantic when he dragged me outta bed,” Vaggie said. Then, she gave Charlie a once-over. “What’s with the getup?”

Charlie pursed her lips, then tapped the key where it hung against her chest. “I… Need to get rid of this. I need to end this tonight.”

Understanding flashed behind Vaggie’s eye. “What do you need me to do?”

They started first by using a stick to pry open the well. Charlie then tossed a pebble inside, listening for a very, very long time before the faint splash of water answered her. This really was a deep well. Good. Then hopefully it would work. Once the well was opened, Charlie handed Vaggie her dad’s hat.

“Someone once told me that you can catch quite a few things with a top hat!” She said cheerfully, trying everything to keep her voice from shaking. 

Vaggie snorted as she looked at the tacky decorations adorning the hat. “Your dad’s weird. I can see where you get it from.” Then, she looked up at her friend. “Are you ready?”

Charlie tightened her grip on Papa’s cane. The heavy mahogany wood gleamed gently in the moonlight. She reached into her shirt and pulled the key from her neck. “As I’ll ever be.”

She turned to the woods. She couldn’t see the microphone scuttling around, but she knew it was there. It had to be. Its legs weren’t very long, but it certainly moved quickly. Charlie cast her glare around the area, mouth pulled back into a snarl. “You want this, Radio Demon? Then come get it!” She released her hold on the key.

The effect was immediate. From the moment Charlie let go, the Radio Demon’s microphone charged out of the woods, leaping for the object as it fell towards the well. In the same beat, Vaggie opened the top hat and swept it in front of the microphone, catching both it and the key. She shrieked as sharp, needle-like legs ripped through the hat, slamming it onto the ground. 

Charlie charged now, swinging the heavy mahogany cane above her head. Letting out a wordless cry, she slammed the cane into the hat, grinning with satisfaction as she heard the crunch of metal beneath it. Vaggie held together the opening of the hat as Charlie attacked it over and over again, desperately beating and crushing the microphone until she could’ve sworn sparks were beginning to fly everywhere. Smash. Smash. Smash.

Eventually, her arms began to burn. She dropped the cane and fell on her bottom, panting. Hesitantly, Vaggie opened the hat to peak inside. She smirked and showed Charlie. The microphone was beaten and battered so badly that it was little more than scrap metal now. It wasn’t even twitching. And the key? It had managed to mostly survive the beating, save for the fact it was now a bit bent towards the end. It would take a skilled professional to bend it back.

Vaggie looked at the well, then at Charlie. Unspoken understanding passed between them. Charlie nodded. Vaggie threw the hat, radio pieces, and key into the well. Afterwards, they worked together to move the heavy piece of wood door on top of the well again, trapping the key and microphone inside it.

For a few minutes, the two simply stood there, staring at the trap door. Then, they looked at each other. Vaggie was smiling. Her hazel eye lit up. A pretty pink flush crept over her face. She tucked one lock of hair behind her ear. Charlie felt her own face warming up in response. 

She didn’t know who moved first. All she knew was that she was encased in a tight, tight embrace. And she was hugging back. The beautiful, sweet, earthy scent of blooming magnolias and chicory swirled around her. 

It was over. 

They had won. 

There wasn’t much lemonade left. Charlie frowned as she poured the remaining five glasses and picked up the tray. She would need to make sure more got made and soon. For now, she would just have to make do with what she had. As she walked towards the garden, Charlie stopped briefly to check the calendar on the kitchen wall. Her next appointment with Dr. Ozzie was going to be right before school started. Hopefully, she had made enough progress by now to where he would be more comfortable seeing her less often. 

Charlie put the tray down for just a second to pull on her brand new sneakers. The green frog decorations winked cheerfully up at her as she tied the knots tight, using the same complicated ones Vaggie had been teaching her. Then, she opened the door to the garden and stepped out, grateful she had her cap on to shade her eyes from the bright sunlight. They had already made a lot of progress on the garden - all of the gray plants had been ripped out to be replaced by lovely rose and acacia bushes. Rows and rows of tulip bulbs spread as far as the eye could see; once they bloomed, this place would be magical. 

She first stopped by the two old women who were gently pruning the rose bushes. Miss Rosie had a large pink sun hat on today decorated with huge pink flowers. Miss Carmilla had a pair of large sunglasses on, her silver hair down and nicely styled. They were chatting animatedly about some sort of ballet they had both starred in, stopping to smile at her when she approached. 

“Miss Rosie, Miss Carmilla,” she said, offering them the tray. “Thanks for all the help with the garden! Would you like some lemonade?”

“How could I ever say no to you?” Miss Rosie asked, taking the glass happily. “Mm… you might wanna tell Alastor to pull the food out soon. Carmine here isn’t herself when she’s hungry!”

“Speak for yourself, Ms. ‘I’m so hungry I could eat my own leg’,” Miss Carmilla said. Her expression softened as she too took a glass of lemonade. “I never had the chance to ask: was Zestiel’s monocle useful to you?”

Charlie smiled and nodded, the tiniest bit of guilt twisting in her gut. “Yes… it was so useful. But… I-I lost it-“

Miss Carmilla shook her head. “That’s quite alright. He would’ve only cared about helping you. Trinkets and money will come and go, but a child’s happiness? Absolutely priceless.”

Charlie's smile widened. “I’ll make sure Papa brings out the food soon.” Then, she walked to the bridge and looked down, giggling as Ser Pentious saluted her from where he was working on the vegetable garden. Already, there were numerous little drawings at each row labeling what was growing there - from beets to zucchinis. He spotted the tray of lemonade in her hands then practically leaped up to her level with a grin. 

“Are those refreshments for me, Charlotte?” He asked. 

Charlie handed him a cup. “How are the jumping mice?”

“Doing wonderfully!” Ser Pentious started lapping up the lemonade with his tongue. “The new cheese was a brilliant move if I do say so myself! Soon enough, the mice bois will be ready to take on the world!” He paused for a moment, thinking. “But I still need to write that commercial for your father’s radio broadcast. He said the last one I handed him was too… eccentric.”

Charlie tilted her head. “Too eccentric? You?”

“I know! How is it that a man so brilliant with his voice can’t tell the difference between genius and eccentric!?” More lapping up the lemonade with his tongue, seemingly ignoring the straw sticking out from it. “No matter. I will speak with him about it over lunch! You made sure to hide Lucifer’s duck cannon, yes?”

Charlie giggled. “I did. But you still better watch out! He has a knack for finding it.” Then, she waved goodbye and walked across the bridge, heading towards the tree in the center. 

A woman sat there wearing a large dark purple sun hat, sunset-colored hair tied back into a loose bun. She carefully and gracefully dug small holes, then plopped the tulip bulbs in. She looked up as Charlie approached, grin wide and periwinkles sparkling. She took one of the lemonades gratefully, leaving one last cup on the tray. Charlie put the tray aside, reached out, and hugged her mom who hugged back. The creamy scent of lilies filled her nose. 

“And how is my little Apple Blossom this fine morning?” Lilith asked, voice soft and musical. 

Charlie put two kisses on each of her mom’s cheeks. “Doing awesome! Thanks for coming to see us and help!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Charlie,” Mom said. She sipped her lemonade, then went back to planting the tulip bulbs. “Is lunch coming out soon?”

“Hopefully! I gotta go find Papa and tell him to bring it out… and make more lemonade.”

Her mother rolled her eyes, then put down her tools. “He’s likely distracted. I saw him and your father wander off near the gate.” She waved towards the east. “How typical. They run off to play and leave me with too many bulbs and not enough hands!”

“Should I go get them to help you?”

Mom’s periwinkles sparkled mischievously. “That would be lovely. While they plant, I’ll go inside to make more lemonade and get lunch ready!”

“I’m off then!” Charlie said cheerfully, running towards the eastern gate. She caught sight of her dads easily, and much like Mom had assumed, they definitely weren’t working. Lucifer was leaning up against some newly repaired brick that surrounded a plot where they planned on planting a tree. Alastor stood above him, leaning over and bracing himself on either side of her father’s legs. One of Papa’s long legs was slotted in between Dad’s forcing him to part them slightly. Both their faces were flushed a gentle pink. Their voices carried over to her as she approached. 

“Well isn’t this something? Normally I’m the one doing the initiating around here,” Dad said, voice low and thick with… something. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t even be thinking about this, but, well…” Papa let out a low chuckle, leaning in closer to her father’s grinning, flushed face. One hand ran up Lucifer’s leg. “All of these months of just having to watch you leaves a man wanting…”

Her dad leaned in a bit more, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth. “And here I thought you were fine with the extra attention my tongue was giving your p-“ Blue eyes shifted in her direction. “AH! DAUGHTER!” Lucifer shouted, shoving Alastor off of him. Her step-father stumbled slightly, then recovered rather quickly, smile softening. Her father sputtered a bit, then coughed, still flushed. “Um… D-Don’t mind us! Heh, we were… uh… just talking about-“

“Dancing,” Papa said, pulling her dad in for a nuzzle. “It’s been too long. We’re thinking this Saturday. Do you think you can handle yourself for a night, Firefly?”

Charlie blinked. She had no idea why Dad was still so flushed and embarrassed; he usually loved dancing. Ever since Papa got back from his final physical therapy visit, she saw them dancing all the time. “Oh yeah! Can I have Vaggie over for a sleepover?”

Dad laughed. “Don’t see why not. Just as long as you know the kitchen, fireplace, and road are all off limits.” He winked. “You can use my study as long as you don’t touch the things on the workbench, okay?”

She grinned. “It’s a deal!” Then she gestured behind her. “Mom said she needs help, by the way. She asked me to come get you guys cuz she has too many tulips and not enough hands.” She paused. “Also, there’s only one glass of lemonade left so she has to go make more and bring out the food before people get hangry.”

Papa’s smile was downright mischievous now. Dark brown eyes briefly glanced over at his husband. “We’ll race to her. First one there gets that last glass and gets to eat first. Readysetgo!” Then, he took off running.

“Wait, what!?” Dad turned around and took off running after him. “Not fair, Al! You don’t need a head start with those stupid long legs!”

Charlie smiled as she watched her fathers run away. Things really were starting to shape up now. Between the bright blue skies, the colorful garden, and her new friend, Oregon was just so pretty. She hadn't even thought about how lovely the world was before now. And Miss Rosie was right; happiness was a good look on Papa and Dad. Happiness and love. That was something no other world could ever copy. 

Behind her, the eastern gate creaked open. Charlie turned around, grinning when she saw a familiar hazel eye and mess of brown hair. Vaggie grinned back, then turned to the tall, willowy silver-haired woman next to her. Charlie blinked as she looked at the round face shape, gentle sloping nose, and the shape of her hazel eyes; she looked very familiar.

“Abuela, this is my friend, Charlie Morningstar,” Vaggie said. She took her abuela’s hand and half-dragged her over, the woman smiling kindly down at Charlie. 

For a brief moment, Charlie paused. A familiar black and white shape was seated atop the garden wall. Yellow eyes blinked slowly at her. Then, it stretched, flapping tiny red and black wings. In the next second, it disappeared behind the thin railing of the gate. Charlie blinked then shook her head. There wasn’t time to examine that now.  

“It’s good to meet you, Miss Sera,” Charlie said. She walked towards her, a wide grin on her face. “Boy do I have a story to tell you!”