Chapter Text
The day was going pretty well, actually.
The renovations were done, the hotel bigger and better than ever. They had new rooms, new supplies, and actual food. A working phone!
They planned to open in two weeks’ time. The commercial they had shot, with help from Lucifer, was airing several times a day. They were still getting coverage from several news stations because of their defeat of Heaven. Alastor had mentioned the hotel a few times on his broadcasts, as now that everyone knew he was back, they listened in to fulfill their curiosity.
Charlie had even a few calls about checking in. They weren’t set in stone just yet, but people were willing and interested. And they were this close to convincing Cherri to stay as an official guest. Charlie had been staying late all week, planning new exercises and bonding ideas, even some field trips to get some fresh air (well, as fresh of air you could get when your neighbors were cannibals) and to get out of the hotel once and a while.
Nifty could sure get stir crazy after a while, that was for sure.
So, things were going suspiciously well. Vaggie was having a good day. There were no messes to clean, and the employees had been quiet all day. Cherri hadn’t blown up another wall. She had been able to sleep in and have breakfast in bed with Charlie. It was nice. Her girlfriend was constantly worrying over things this use to the opening so it was nice to catch her in one of her good moments.
She was having a good day. Until she went downstairs.
She left her and Charlie’s bedroom around noon, leaving her partner to brainstorm more ideas for the opening ceremony. She was bringing the dishes down to the kitchen and checking on the other occupants, who were being suspiciously quiet. She had to make sure they hadn’t snuck off to some bar like they tried to do once.
(They got halfway there before Vaggie found them and quite literally herded them back like cattle, pointing her spear at them.)
The scene in the parlor was slow, peaceful like weekend mornings should be. Husk was rubbing a stain on the bar that had been there forever. Angel was fidgeting with the pool table, a new addition, by himself, looking uninterested. Occasionally, he made a comment to Husk, who either ignored him or let out a low chuckle.
When she came down the stairs, they paid her more attention than they usually did. She stopped in the middle of the lobby, suddenly self conscious. Did she have some breakfast left on her face? “What?”
“Were you or Charlie on babysitting duty or something and you forgot to tell us?” Angel inquired, still fiddling with the pool stick. One of the balls rolled away and hit the edge.
Vaggie furrowed her eyebrows. She was now just more confused. Was he playing with her? “What? Are you high?”
He just shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of.”
She turned to Husk, who she supposed was a tad more trustworthy. At least he had no reason to mess with her. “What is he talking about?”
Husk looked up at her once, tilting his head to the left, towards the door, then went back to scrubbing the counter. “Someone’s here. A kid.”
“A kid?” Vaggie repeated.
“Yep. Little. A crying mess.”
“A kid?” She echoed.
The fuck? Did someone just leave their kid here? Was it lost? A trap? Another one of the Vees attempts to spy on them?
Husk looked over his shoulder again, then turned away. “See for yourself. I don’t get paid enough for this.”
“You don’t get paid at all,” Angel shot back.
Husk scoffed.
Ignoring them, Vaggie slowly turned to the side, and followed Husk’s gaze and.. there was no one there.
Then she heard it. A low, muffled sniffling.
She looked down.
And there it was.. she?
The child was small, coming up to about her waist, probably around five or six years old. She had raspberry red skin and raven black hair. Her eyes were heterochromatic, one black and the other white. Looking closer, Vaggie saw her pupils were small X s. Small horns atop her head were peeking through her bangs, which would only grow as she got older.
Huh. No razor sharp teeth. No claws. With her wide, teary eyes and quivering, pouty lip, she almost seemed like a normal kid. Just a young child crying on their doorstep. No big deal.
The child looked up at her, meeting her eyes. She seemed to be glued to the wall next to the door, scared to move. Vaggie just stared back, blinking.
“What the fuck?!”
———
“What’s your name?” Vaggie tried.
The child was now sitting at a stool at the bar counter, arms wrapped around herself protectively. She had stopped crying a bit ago, but her eyes were still red and puffy, cheeks watery. They had managed to coax her from the wall and get her to sit down, but were failing to get her to talk.
She only seemed to talk in jumbles of incoherent mumbles.
Husk and Angel were no help. Angel sat on the pool table, Husk still behind the counter as always. Vaggie sat on the stool beside her, facing her. After getting over the initial shock, she was just concerned. She had tried to access the child for any visible injuries. A child, alone on the streets of Hell. Who knew what sickos could come after her.
It reminded her too much of the crying child she had spared. She pushed that thought away bitterly. The past is the past. Be here now, help this child.
“What’s your name?” Vaggie repeated.
She didn’t seem to register it.
“Are you hungry?” She asked. “Want some candy?”
That got the girl’s attention. She shriveled her head in Vaggie’s direction, eyes going wide. Vaggie thought they were to bulge out of her head.
Fuck. She wasn’t even sure if they had any candy.
“Angel,” she whispered. “Do you have any candy?”
“Not the kid friendly kind I don’t,” he replied.
She slumped over, defeated. “Of course you don’t,” she muttered.
“What does a kid even eat?” Angel asked, eyeing her up and down like she was some foreign alien. Vaggie couldn’t blame him. Kids were rare in the Pride Ring as the majority of the population was Sinners, who couldn’t reproduce. Most Hellborns didn’t see it as a priority to have kids, or were too strung out to form coherent thoughts.
Kids who died were not condemned to Hell. (Although she wouldn’t put it past Heaven these days.)
And, so, safe for the kids of Cannibal Town, children were a sight to behold in Hell.
“What does she need?” Angel continued. “A bottle? A boob?”
He turned and looked Vaggie up and down. She sent him a scowl. “Why are you looking at me? I have no clue. I’m not around kids all the time.”
“Me either,” Angel replied.
“And that’s a good thing,” Husk commended from the corner. He was reading the fucking newspaper like this was a completely normal, daily event. “You’d indoctrinate them with your sick and perverted ways.”
“Hey,” Angel spat, but his gaze went to Vaggie. The kid was shifting from side to side anxiously “Do something.”
“Why me?” Vaggie spat back.
“You’re the woman here,” he said. “Shouldn’t you know what to do? You have the.. uh, womanly instincts. Plus, you’re the one with the tits. I mean, barely, but—”
He let out a gasp as she slugged him across the shoulder. “OW! The fuck, bitch?”
“You pig!” She shouted. “Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?”
“Being sexist! And cursing! There’s a child here. You don’t need to corrupt her mind with your ways!”
He rubbed at his shoulder, smirking down at her. “See? I was right. Protect the children. Shit. Your womanly instincts are coming out.”
Vaggie growled. “I swear to Satan, you little—”
“No cursing. Your rule. Remember?”
They all turned as a small, muffled squeak hit the air. Vaggie twisted just in time to get a good look of the child’s face as she promptly broke into tears.
Vaggie held back her groan and tried to reach out to the child. “Hey, don’t cry. You’re fine. I know these idiots seem scary, but they won’t hurt you.”
“Yeah, I only fight men who have it coming,” Angel retorted. He winked when Vaggie sent him a look. “And women. See? Not sexist. I’m not afraid to hit a woman.”
Vaggie squinted, shaking her head. “That’s not.. nevermind,” she trailed off, then turned back to the child to her side. “Candy. We’ll have to find some. But can we make a deal?”
The child looked up at her questioningly, but began to nod slowly.
“Great. You answer my questions, and I’ll give you candy. Sound okay?”
Another nod.
“Okay. First, what’s your name?”
“Vesper,” the child said in a small voice.
“Alright, Vesper. How old are you?”
She held up five fingers, starting to smile. “Five! I’m five,” she said proudly.
Geez. What kind of parents let their five-year-olds out alone?
She wouldn’t let her kid out of her sight. Not in a place like this, that’s for sure.
She paused, almost going red. That implied that her and Charlie had an imaginary child. Yeah, nope. That was uncharted territory. That hadn’t talked about that. Besides, the hotel was like their baby. Or they could get some puppy or some shit.
“Wow,” Angel said sarcastically. “She can count. She’s the real deal.”
Vaggie violently shushed him. “Now, can you tell me how you got here?”
She took a deep breath, then began. “I was out with Mama. It was crowded. I think there was some idiot beating up idiots.. That was what Mama said. Everyone was trying to watch it. I let go of my mom’s hand. I tried to find her in the crowd, but there was this guy with a trench coat and he asked if I wanted.. crack?”
“Roberto?” Angel gasped. “That traitor.” They all turned to him in surprise and indignation. “Oh, please continue.”
“I got scared, so I ran. Then I ended up at the end of the street, and I saw the pretty lights. I came inside and then remembered Mama said to not wander off. I think she’s mad at me. She’s scary when she’s mad.”
“Is that why you were crying?”
Vesper nodded, bottom lip wobbling. The room was quiet for a moment, processing. Vaggie was making a mental map of Pentagram City. What street could she have been on?
“So, uh,” Angel said, extending a cup towards the wide-eyed child. “Do ya want a drink?”
“Angel!” Vaggie exclaimed. “She’s, like, five!”
“I meant apple juice or some shit!” He replied. “I’m sure we have something like that.” He turned and started rummaging through the cabinets and shelves behind the bar. Husk sent him a warning look, flattening his ears. Vesper just sat hunched over on the stool, looking confused.
“If you didn’t drink all of it when you were hungover last time,” Vaggie grumbled.
“What’s hungover?” Vesper asked in a high-pitched voice.
“Ah, shit,” Vaggie said, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Seriously. They were in Hell, but she supposed the least she could do was preserve some of this child’s innocence.
“Hungover is what your parents are because they don’t wanna deal with you,” Husk said to the child, coming up behind the bar. He turned to deal with Angel before Vaggie could scold him. “Stop doing that! You’re messing my shit up. I have a system, you know.”
“A system? The fuck?” Angel mocked. “Calm down, pussycat. What? You have something hidden in here? A dirty magazine or something?” He snorted. “What is it? Furries Weekly?”
That was her cue. While the men started going at it, trading quips of insults and curses, she hurriedly scooped up the child and headed for the stairwell, wrapping her arm around her small head and attempting to shield one of her ears. “ Okay,” she breathed. “Let’s take a field trip upstairs. Maybe we’ll see a nice roach or two. How about that?”
Vesper stared up at her, unblinking. She was sticking her pointer finger into her mouth. Reluctantly, Vaggie pulled it away, frowning. As she did so, Vesper spoke out, catching Vaggie off guard. “What’s a dirty magazine?” She asked in a small voice, squinting, her eyebrows furrowing. “What’s a furry?”
“ANGEL!” Vaggie bellowed. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”
“Oh, come on!” A voice called back. “ What’d I do this time?!”
“I’m just gonna kill you!”
She turned back to the child in her arms looking even more confused. “Why—”
“Okay, kid,” she said quickly. “New rule. No questions. Don’t repeat anything you hear. In fact, don’t remember anything you see or hear here. Forget it.”
“Forget what?”
She smiled. “That’s it.”
She adjusted the child again in her arms as she walked down the familiar way down the hallway to the double doors of the master bedroom. Charlie would know what to do. Charlie was sunshine and rainbows. Charlie probably was an angel to children.
She managed to push the door open with minimal effort, Vesper wriggling in her arms. She would put her down soon. The door opened and she blinked back the red-tinted sunlight of late morning.
Charlie sat up and stretched, turning to the door. She was still in her pajamas, her hair messied. She was in the middle of a yawn when she called out in greeting to Vaggie. “Hey, babe.”
She caught sight of the child in her arms. Her yawn fell into a jaw drop. “Babe?” She said, “Is that a child? Why is she here?”
“This is Vesper,” Vaggie said, attempting to be lighthearted. “She’s our.. newest guest?”