Work Text:
"Is that seriously all you do?"
Husk shrugged, wincing when a sharp pain hit his lower back. It hurt like hell, and all it took was him sitting up for it to sting. His stomach churned and his wings fluttered uncomfortably.
"Don't got much to do."
Vaggie crossed her arms, eyes narrowing at the cat. She walked over to him and tugged, urging him to get up.
He growled, a pit of nausea settling deep within him. He wasn't going to make it more than 10 feet of this couch.
"C'mon, just get up. Get some fresh air."
"Open a goddamn window, then," he hissed, digging his claws into her arm to make her let go.
She did.
"Aw, pussycat."
Husk growled at that, ears flattening as he laid on the couch for Lucifer knows how long. He was grateful Alastor never tried anything when he was like this, always valuing his souls' lives. Wanting to keep them alive for more work, or something like that.
"C'mahn, don't cha love me?" Angel grabbed his cheeks, squishing them.
Husk continued to growl, snapping at Angel's hands for him to let go .
"Yer pissin' me off, Angel."
Angel only cooed at that, continuing to poke and prod at Husk. It was some sort of sick game to him.
"That's what I do on the daily, kitty cat."
Husk tried shielding himself with his wings, failing as Angel found a new target to mess with. It made the pain worse, made his stomach worse, and made him tired.
He wracked his brain for something to tell Angel to seriously stop, that he wasn't in the mood for these games at all. Part of him whispered that Angel would ignore that and continue to hurt. That wasn't his Angel.
"Angel."
"Hm?" He poked at a feather, Husk flinching at that.
Husk inhaled a breath. "Red."
He felt gross for using it, daring to whisper it outside of the bedroom, and even then it felt shameful.
Angel immediately stopped his poking, lifting up Husk's wings to cradle the cat's face in his hands. Worry danced across his facial features, searching for any discomfort in Husk.
There was a lot of discomfort.
"Kitten..."
"In too much pain for this."
Angel stroked the sides of his face, threading his fingers into the soft fur.
"Why didn't ya tell me?"
"Thought you'd catch on," Husk mumbled, his whole body going limp and his words slurring. "Hoped ya knew..." His eyelids drooped and stomach churned.
He could hear Alastor talking about him, how he'd never have Husk working while in pain. It was bareble this time, the worst being a dull ache in his shoulder or the usual sharpness in his limbs.
All he could do was lay there as his head pounded in his skull with an icebag replacing his top hat.
He sustained some bumps and bruises from the fight, but the biggest injury was getting smacked into a wall. His head stung like a bitch after he calmed down, to the point where he was a vunerable target for everyone.
"How're you feeling?"
He let out a sound at Charlie petting the back of his neck, an involuntary purr slipping out.
"Could be worse."
"You could also be a lot better," Vaggie chirped in, "but it seems that you're doing just fine."
He purred at the scratches behind his ears, letting himself be loved and distracted as Charlie checked his head.
Whispers were said among the two, a new icebag and a pain pill given to Husk as they laid a blanket on him and slipped away.
Yeah, he's doing just fine.
He expected the fight to bring new guests to the hotel, especially with the entirely new look to it. Angels can be killed, so it could mean demons fighting on their side.
What he didn't expect, however, was a living weapon to show up at their door.
There was scratching and... animalistic growling at the front door, whoever doing it for sure ruining the paint job.
"I got it!" Charlie sang, practically skipping towards the door and opening.
There stood an underdog of the Vees, having been described by Angel as "Vox's little weapon freak."
Rabid the honeybadger.
Three feet tall, saliva foaming at his mouth, and the personality of a bomb. He was considered a threat to any demon on Vox's radar.
"Aw," Charlie cooed, "he's so small!" She reached to pinch his cheek, swiftly getting a reminder of his name.
"...Bitey, but that's ok!"
Angel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Charlie, this is Vox's freak of a pet. Are you sure he can be redeemed?"
"Of course he can! Any demon can be redeemed, so long as they try." She nodded, letting Rabid shuffle into the hotel.
He sniffed the air, taking small steps, gravitating towards the couch.
He continued to sniff until he bumped into Alastor's leg, immediately letting out a snarl and an attempt to maul him. The demon simply shoved him away with his staff, hitting him over the head with it in an attempt to get away.
"...So he doesn't want to be redeemed."
"Maybe it's a Sir Pentious situation? Y'know, with how he worked with Vox but switched up."
Angel only narrowed his eyes towards Charlie, rolling them and sighing. "Maybe... but even then, Sir Pentious was an accident."
"At first!"
Rabid huffed and growled as he kicked at the sheets, chewed on the pillows, and shoved a blanket off the bed to make a nest on the floor. He missed home. He missed his bed, his treats, even his crate that was never used.
Vox did promise him he'd get a week of nothing but treats, so maybe sacrifices have to be made.