Chapter Text
Charlie stared down at the worksheet she had just printed off.
“Name:___________” it read. She quickly jotted her name down in red ink before she drew a little rainbow. The rainbow wasn’t necessary but it made the boring white sheet look much happier. Now the paper had a touch of ‘Charlie’: She felt like she’d made it her own. Which was good, considering this worksheet was meant to reflect her personality. The 6 identical pages beneath it longed for a flair of their own.
Excellent!
She grabbed the stack of papers and rushed from her office to the lobby. The hotel's residents were waiting there for her.
“Sorry! Sorry!” She apologized for being late. T he session should have started 5 minutes ago, but she’d only just gotten the idea to print these papers off 3 minutes ago, and she couldn’t just show up to their mandatory morning group meeting without an activity!
The slight delay did cause her guests and employees to feel rather agitated, though.
“’Bout time ya showed up,” Angel complained loudly, propping his feet up on Husk’s lap. Husk shot Angel a sour look, shoving the spider’s long legs off him with a grumble.
“I know I made you wait, but we’re all here now!” Charlie exclaimed reassuringly. “Here! Everybody gets one!” She quickly handed out the worksheets to the unenthused audience.
Angel and Husk looked over their papers with skeptical stares.
Niffty held hers upside down for a moment, trying to read it, before Sir Pentious turned it right side up for her.
Alastor was seated in an armchair he must have dragged over from the television nook, legs crossed and microphone leaning against the arm of the chair. He read over the paper’s contents with a mischievously fascinated grin.
Once Charlie handed Vaggie a page, she clapped her hands together to grab the group’s attention, “After last night’s Chihuahua-on-a-waffle incident, I decided we need to get to know each other better! Sooooo!” She held up her own paper and waved it in the air, “I printed off these worksheets! Aren’t they amazing?”
“'What name would you give a puppy?’” Angel recited one of the questions incredulously. “Do we really gotta answer these, toots?”
“Yes!” Charlie answered excitedly, handing out pens to everyone. “We’ll go in a circle and the person next to you will pick a question for you to answer! So, do your thinking now and write down all your answers!”
Charlie gave everyone a few minutes to come up with responses to all the questions as she wrote down her own answers, accompanied by colorful doodles. When everyone was done writing, she happily pointed to Husk for him to start.
“Husk! How would you describe yourself with one emoji?” She asked.
Husk frowned and then read from his paper, “’What’s an emoji?’”
Angel snorted, “Off to a great start here.”
Charlie grinned, “No, no! This is great! We’ve learned that Husk doesn’t use emojis!”
“He doesn’t use a phone, Charlie!” Angel corrected her, holding out his hand in his typical ‘I had to get out of bed for this’ morning meeting attitude. He leaned his head back and deflated, “And we already knew that!”
“Okay, now it’s your turn Husk! Ask Niffty a question!” Charlie instructed , unaffected by Angel’s negativity.
Husk held up the paper closer to his face so his old eyes could read the words properly, “What. is your. weirdest. quality?” The slight pauses in between words made it sound like he was reading off a script.
Niffty’s smile grew frighteningly big, stretching across her entire face. Husk suddenly dropped the paper into his lap, “Wait! I changed my mind! Don’t answer that!” Niffty’s smile fell.
Charlie cleared her throat and chided , “Husk, you’ve got to pick a question for her.”
Husk huffed as he rolled his eyes. “Fine. What’s your favorite color?” That question wasn’t on the worksheet.
Niffty smiled sweetly, “I like the color green!” This earned shocked looks from Sir Pentious, Husk, and Angel.
Husk’s shoulders slumped in relief.
“Wow,” Pentious said in an astounded tone. “That was a sssurprisingly pleasant responssse.”
Niffty snicked, “It’s the color of bug guts when I stab them with my sewing needle! HAHAHA!”
Pentious cringed, “Oh. That is... lessss pleasant.”
Niffty turned to Pentious like she was going to stab him. Pentious let out an ‘eep’ish noise.
“What conspiracy theories do you think are true?” Niffty asked him, joyously bouncing on her heels.
Sir Pentious relaxed as he put a finger to his chin in thought, “Hmmm...” An eggboi raised his hand and called out, “Oh! Oh! Boss thinks Australia doesn’t exist!” Pentious whirled around and yelled, “Shut up, you fried chicken fetus!”
“You don’t believe in Australia?” Vaggie scrunched up her nose.
“It’s upside down! Not even I could make a device to turn a whole country upside down! There’s not a chance that it exists! Utterly preposterous to even believe ssssuch a thing, ” Pentious defended himself.
Vaggie facepalmed.
Pentious put his hands on his hips, “Well, now, Miss Smarty-Pants! Let me ask you---” He yanked the paper up to his face and read off a question, “If you had to live off one food for the ressst of your life, which food would that be? Hmmm...” After he asked, he looked genuinely disappointed that he hadn’t picked a more probing question.
Vaggie leaned back on the couch, “One food, huh?” She thought for a second, looking up at the ceiling, “I guess tamales. They’re pretty good.” When she looked down she saw the bored faces of Angel, Niffty, and Pentious. “What?”
They didn’t answer.
Vaggie huffed, “Alastor.” She moved in her seat to face him and read off the first question her eyes landed on, “Do you have a secret life outside of the hotel?”
Alastor laughed, “Oh ho ho! If I shared that, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?” Vaggie narrowed her eyes at him.
Alastor paid her no mind and leaned forward somewhat, “Charlie, dear. If you could steal one thing and never get caught, what would you steal?
Charlie blinked, “Oh, me? Nothing! I wouldn’t steal! Where did you see that question?” She lifted her paper to her face and examined it, finding nothing. “Hey! That wasn’t on here!”
Alastor just grinned at her, earning another glare from Vaggie.
Charlie stared at Alastor for a second, debating on making him ask another question—one that was actually on the worksheet. But she hadn’t done that with Husk, so she supposed she’d let it slide. She turned her attention to Angel, “What’s the most pointless skill you have?”
Angel sat up straighter, “Oh, that’s an easy one! I can play a recorder with my nose!” Somehow... no one looked surprised by this.
The rest of the morning meeting continued like normal. Charlie went over the expectations for the day and Vaggie enforced their importance by holding her spear.
Charlie collected the papers as she hummed, excited to read the remainder of everyone’s responses to her questions. She carried them to her office and set them down on her desk, reading over them feverously.
She was captivated by everyone’s answers and learning about her friends on what she believed to be a deeper level. While her questions ranged from normal to strange, she thought they were all important in discovering how each person thought.
She also liked the doodle Niffty left of a little bug on the side of her paper. She screeched when it moved.
Vaggie burst through the doors, “What?! What is it?!”
Charlie picked up the last paper and crawled away from the desk, “Just a bug!” She scooted past Vaggie and went straight to the lobby to continue her work, bug-free.
Plopping herself down at Husk’s bar, Charlie lifted the single sheet of paper up to her face and read it. It was Alastor’s. While she had been enthralled by everyone’s answers, she found herself especially interested in their resident deer’s responses.
He was such a mystery to them all. It would be nice to see into his mind a little.
‘What celebrity would you most like to meet?’ Alastor has answered ‘Louis Armstrong’. Charlie recognized the name as a famous musician from the 1920’s. She smiled at the looping cursive writing, wondering if it would be possible for Alastor to actually meet the man. Though, she mostly hoped he wasn’t in Hell.
‘When is your birthday?’ Charlie read next. She was the most excited for this question. She loved celebrating birthdays! Even if she’d only ever seen birthdays celebrated on TV before. She... was kind of lacking in the friend department growing up.
Charlie eagerly read on for Alastor’s response. There was none. He’d left it blank.
“What?” Charlie blinked.
Husk set down a glass of water for her, “What’s ‘what’?”
Charlie laid the paper on the counter and pointed to the black space, “Alastor didn’t answer when his birthday is.”
“January 1 st ,” Husk mumbled. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
Charlie paused.
January 1 st was a week away.
She gasped, a thrill filling her body, “Really?!”
Husk suddenly looked regretful, “Yeah, but--”
She cut him off, jumping up from her chair and squealing, “This is so great! We have to celebrate! We can have a party! And cake! And streamers! And--”
“No!” Husk interrupted her.
Charlie gaped, mouth wide open, her list of the ingredients for the perfect birthday abruptly cut off.
“No. No. Absolutely not,” Husk repeated, drawing out his objection with a hard stare. “He will not appreciate that, believe me.”
Charlie pressed her palms into the counter, leaning forward, “Oh, come on! Everyone deserves a party on their birthday!”
Husk shook his head, “Trust me. He doesn’t want one.”
“Who doesn’t want a party on their birthday?!” Charlie tried again.
“Alastor,” Husk countered.
Charlie frowned, “Why wouldn’t he want to celebrate his own birthday?”
Husk pushed her glass of water forward. She picked it up and sipped at it as he wiped the counter down, “Some people just don’t have good memories about their birthday.”
Charlie set the glass down, worry filling her gut. “He doesn’t have good memories?” She waited for Husk to elaborate, but he gave her nothing to work with. She furrowed her brow with determination, “Then we’ll just have to make new, good memories for him!”
Husk groaned, slapping his face with his palm, “You missed the point entirely.”
Charlie shook her head, “No! I get what you’re saying! Alastor hasn’t had a good birthday before!” She slammed her fist down on the table, a beaming grin gracing her face, “But we can be his first!”
Husk rolled his eyes, giving up on dissuading her.
The week following consisted of Charlie secretly gathering decorations. She employed the help of the other residents in setting up a surprise birthday party for their antlered friend.
Everything was going smoothly and before she knew it, January 1 st was just a day away.
Alastor had left to go on his daily morning outing. Now was the perfect time to set up the decorations. They would turn the lights off and jump out with a big ‘SURPRISE’ when he returned in exactly an hour from now.
It turned out that baking a cake was harder than Charlie imagined. She left the task to Vaggie, Husk, Angel, and Sir Pentious, hoping they could work it out together. With Niffty at her side, she took on the responsibility for getting the banner and the streamers hung up.
‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALASTOR!’ The banner screamed in red and gold letters. Charlie had personally seen to it that an entire tub of glitter was used for added happiness effect.
“What are you doing, dear?”
Charlie nearly fell off the ladder she had precariously placed herself on. She grabbed the sides of it and steadied herself, “I’m hanging the banner for Alastor’s birthday party!”
She froze.
Slowly, she turned her head and was greeted with the sly grin of the red-haired hotelier.
“OH SHIT,” Charlie exclaimed, stumbling down the ladder. Alastor reached out and caught her by the shoulders before she hit the ground.
“Al, what are you doing here?!” She frantically stretched her arms up in a desperate, yet futile, attempt to hide the banner from his view. He easily looked over her arms, spying the glittery words.
He hummed before summoning his staff and twirling it before stamping the end down on the ground, “Birthday party, you say?”
Charlie waved her hands around as she spoke in a panic, “You weren’t supposed to hear that! What are you doing back so soon?! You’re never back this early!”
Alastor tilted his head, eyes crinkling as his smile developed an unfriendly feel to it, “Well, you see, Charlie: I always leave a shadow behind to keep an eye on things.” He raised a hand to motion towards a lone shadow on the far-off wall. “It noticed you were acting strangely and it sent word to me. So, I came back to make sure everything was alright.”
Charlie sent a stink eye the shadow’s way, causing it to shrug at her innocently.
“I appreciate the thought,” Alastor leaned on his cane, his face unreadable. “But I would be quite happy if you took down all of this mess and pretend it never happened.” He stood up straight and snapped his fingers, “I’ll even help!” His offer was accompanied by several more shadows appearing on the walls. They began removing the streamers and the banner.
Charlie gasped, “Wait, no!” She quickly climbed back up the ladder to stop the undoing of her efforts. When she couldn’t save the banner, she looked down at Alastor, “Those are for your party!”
Alastor held his cane before him in both hands. “I don’t want a party,” he said simply.
“But the others already baked you a cake!” She protested.
“I don’t eat cake.”
“What?!” Charlie stepped down off the ladder, “Who doesn’t eat cake?!”
Alastor shrugged, “I’ve never enjoyed desserts.”
“That’s okay!” Charlie nervously smiled, trying to salvage this, “What’s your favorite meal? My dad can just make it appear for you! Or he can cook it! He does that sometimes! Cooking, I mean! He doesn’t do it often! But sometimes!”
Alastor scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Ugh, please.” His grin twitched, “I’m not interested in your father’s cooking, or lack thereof.”
Charlie frowned, “Come on, Al. We have to do something for your birthday!” She couldn’t believe she was pleading with Alastor—the most self-interested demon she knew—to enjoy a day that would be focused on Alastor .
Alastor dematerialized his cane with a poof and smiled at her. It almost felt like a warning. “I’m quite happy doing nothing for it, and I suggest you do the same.”
Charlie opened her mouth to object, but Alastor’s form melted into the shadow beneath him before zooming up the stairwell and out of sight.
She sighed.
“I tried to warn you,” Husk said numbly. He and the others had come out to check up on Charlie. They had witnessed her exchange with the Radio Demon.
“I don’t get it!” Charlie exclaimed to her friends, “How can Alastor be so dismissive about his own birthday?!”
Vaggie placed her hands on her hips and frowned, “I don’t know, hun. Some people just don’t want to think about it, I guess.”
“Sorry, Charlie,” Angel shrugged, a hint of sympathy on his face. “C’mon, we’ll help you clean up.”
Charlie huffed as she peered up the stairs where Alastor had disappeared.
Charlie blinked up at the ceiling.
She hadn’t slept a wink, and she was pretty sure it was already midnight. A quick glance at her alarm clock confirmed that.
She needed a glass of water.
Getting up quietly, as to not wake Vaggie, she tiptoed out of their room and down the hall. Once she was at the staircase, she dropped her stealth act and headed down to the lobby.
As she rounded the corner she noticed a dim light coming from the kitchen. She peered in.
Alastor was facing somewhat away from her, sitting at the table. From the doorway, Charlie could see a small, one portion-sized chocolate cake sat in front of him, decorated beautifully, and sporting a single lit candle.
Silence settled in the room like a blanket. Nothing moved except for the tiny, flickering flame on the candle and the shadows that danced with it. Alastor sat, completely still, staring at the cake. He deeply sighed before sluggishly picking up a fork and digging the metal prongs into the side of the cake, not bothering to blow out of the light. He reluctantly opened his mouth and slid the fork inside. He made a disgusted face when the sweetness of the cake hit his tongue.
Charlie flicked on the light.
Alastor jumped, dropping his fork. It hit the ground with a loud clatter.
“Sorry,” Charlie apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Alastor looked back and forth from her to the cake. Finally, in a rare display of surrender, he raised his shoulders and inhaled before letting out another deep sigh and motioning for her to join him.
Charlie meekly stepped through the kitchen and sat at the table as he got up to fetch a new fork from the silverware drawer.
Returning to his seat, he blew out the candle and picked it out of the icing. He placed it on the side of the plate before going in for another bite.
Charlie waited for him to swallow his mouthful before she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Celebrating my birthday,” he answered bluntly without looking at her.
Charlie tilted her head, confused, “But I thought---”
“I don’t wish to,” he interrupted her, “but it has to be done.”
Charlie frowned, “Why are you doing this alone in the middle of the night?”
Alastor seemed to be using this conversation as a distraction from eating the cake in front of him, “So no one can see me do it. But you’ve gone and ruined that.” His accusation was more tired than angry.
Charlie winced nonetheless, “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be done about it now,” he dismissed.
“I still think you would enjoy it more if you celebrated with our friends,” Charlie offered.
To this, Alastor bit down on another forkful of the cake and chocolate icing. Charlie didn’t speak as he chewed. He hesitated to swallow, clearly holding back a gag when he did. After an agonizingly long few moments, he replied “I’d rather not share this moment with anyone.”
Charlie suddenly felt self-conscious about being there with him, but she felt even worse at the prospect of leaving him. Something about his eyes was so sad.
Alastor, who hadn’t met her gaze the entire time she’d been there, was focused on the cake, downing it like it was a medicine that he needed to stomach. When he finally finished, he placed his fork down on the plate next to the candle.
He mumbled something she couldn’t hear. She was about to ask him to repeat himself when he stood up and took his plate to the sink, tossing the candle in the trash as he passed it. He began to wash the dishes, smiling down into the running water as it flowed into the drain.
Charlie stood up and joined him at the sink, “Alastor. Why don’t you want to celebrate your birthday?”
“I have my reasons,” Alastor scrubbed the plate more than it needed.
Charlie watched him, chest growing heavy with empathy, “I’m sorry you feel that way about such an important day.”
Alastor hummed, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to dry his plate and fork. Charlie noticed the towel was already damp. She also noticed no other cookware was out and about. Alastor must have cleaned up before he even sat down to eat the cake. He had really tried to delay putting the sugary treat into his mouth.
He walked toward the cabinet and put away the newly dried plate, then opened a drawer to place the equally dried fork inside. Charlie expected him to leave. But instead, he opened the fridge and pulled out a container. He grabbed a spoon and came back to her.
He handed her the container. It was the same glistening glaze of icing he had used on the cake. Her eyes lit up and she dug the spoon into the icing, tasting the incredible smoothness of the creamy sugar. It was delicious! “Man, Al. How can you not like cake? This is fantastic!”
Alastor shrugged somewhat, leaning back on the counter as he watched her enjoy his baking with subtle amusement, “I’ve never been one for sweets.”
Charlie let a spoonful of icing melt on her tongue, swallowing it down with a look of confusion, “Why didn’t you make yourself something savory or salty then?”
He paused, looking away from her for a second. She saw his smile just barely falter. She stopped eating as she finally began to take in the heartache that surrounded him.
Alastor looked back up at her, “I suppose it’s an old habit.” Charlie wanted him to elaborate more, but he changed the subject, “I’m glad you like the icing, dear.” He began to prattle off the list of ingredients he used and the method in which he made it, but Charlie paid no attention to his words. Just his eyes.
They were wracked with sorrow.
She took another bite of the icing. This time all she could taste was his sadness. It was bitter and cold. She couldn’t take another bite.
Alastor must have noticed, because he stopped talking and was just studying her now. They stared at each other for several seconds before Alastor tilted his head. His smile tightened, “Are you alright?”
She nodded quickly, then took another bite. Grief. She cringed. Alastor’s smile twitched.
“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it,” he gave her an out. “Honestly, dear. I’m surprised you managed to eat even that much of that sugary gloop.”
“No, no!” Charlie shook her head. “It tastes great, and the sugar isn’t a problem for me.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“You,” she said blankly. Alastor’s mouth parted a tad in surprise. Charlie jumped, shocked by her own answer, “Wait! No! That came out wrong! I mean---” she looked him in the eyes and settled down, “You just seem so sad about all of this. You... really don’t like your birthday at all, do you?”
“No,” he replied without having to think it through. “I really don’t.”
Charlie’s heart ached for him. “I won’t pry,” she’d learned about boundaries with Angel. “But I’m here if you need to talk.”
Alastor eyed her suspiciously. “Noted.” There was a long pause as they just looked at each other, the fridge humming quietly in the background. “Thank you,” he finally said before turning and leaving her alone in the kitchen.
She looked down into the icing.