Work Text:
Charlie had a lot of work to do after the exorcist army had attacked. Once the hotel had been rebuilt, sinners were lining up in the street to check in. Everyone wanted to stay at the place that had defeated heaven. This meant getting them settled in their rooms, figuring out how to feed them all, planning new activities and lectures, and making sure they don’t fight with each other or break rules. Sure, the others were offering to help, but she couldn’t accept it. She could talk with Alastor, Husk, and Niffty, because they were staff, but none of them really offered much in the way of support. That left Vaggie, who was working just as hard as she was. Angel was off the table, letting him help would be giving him special treatment. It was day three after the Extermination, so most of the sinners who wanted to stay at the hotel were checked in. They were all in the lecture room now, staring at Charlie expectantly. She hadn’t realized how stressful it was to be in front of this many people at once. No. She could do it. She was the Princess of Hell. “H-hey guys! Today we’re talking about… Communication!” She tried to be cheerful, but couldn’t fully dispel the shake from her voice.
As she continued to speak, Charlie began to pick at the palms of her hands. It helped to distract her from the worry gnawing at her chest, and it couldn’t do much harm, right? As she finished her segment on passive communication and moved on to aggressive, she dug a sharp claw into her hand just a little too deep and struggled to cover a wince. Looking around, it seemed like no one had noticed, so she continued.
Once the lecture was finally over, Charlie hurried to her room. Her chest felt tight, and her heart was racing. Were the walls closing in? No, there was no way. Hell had magic, but not the kind that could shift an entire building. As soon as the door shut behind her, Charlie was sinking to the floor, hyperventilating. She couldn’t get enough air. Why couldn’t she breathe right? Spots began to form in her vision, and she started to claw at her hair, trying desperately to fix whatever this was. Everything felt big and sharp and loud, and there was nothing she could do. She was completely frozen, as though her muscles had disconnected from her brain. And just like that, it was over, and Charlie was slumped against her door, gulping down air and staring at the clumps of blonde hair in her fingers. What just happened? Was that a heart attack? It couldn’t be, she was immortal. It was probably just a fluke, she figures, and heads to her office. She has to plan for the rest of the week anyway, so there’s no time to worry about the past.
As she wrote, Charlie mindlessly chewed the nails on her left hand. She was more anxious than usual, but it’s probably fine, right? And even if it’s not, she has to be fine for the residents. It’ll be okay.
Beep!
A shrill noise from her watch notified her that she had to go eat dinner with the rest of the residents. There were thirty at the hotel now, plus Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, Alastor, and her. She had to be fine for them, so she walked downstairs and greeted everyone as they found seats in the large dining room. Niffty had made jambalaya, which Charlie usually enjoyed, but she had almost no appetite today. She ate a small portion and rushed off to work more.
Now sorting old records, Charlie began picking at the skin on her arms. She didn’t register the pain until small drops of golden blood fell onto the papers she was holding. Tiny cuts and pock marks covered her forearms, evidence of her growing stress. She should’ve known that this was bad. She should’ve known that this meant she needed a break, but if she did, she ignored it. She simply washed the cuts and changed into a long sleeved shirt before going to finish her task.
Charlie didn’t get to bed until almost midnight, and by the time she slipped into her room, Vaggie was already asleep. Good. She didn’t want her girlfriend to worry about the wounds on her arms. She put on her pajamas and laid down, but couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned for a few hours before giving up and going to work more. It was eerie in the hotel without the hustle and bustle of patrons filling the halls, but Charlie didn’t really care. She had to write those letters to heaven to figure out how they would move forward. She rested her left hand on her leg while she wrote, and slowly tensed it with each mistake she made. This had to be perfect. Soon, her fingers were digging into her thigh, but she didn’t notice. She didn’t notice anything until she finished writing and went to stand. When she lifted her hand, her fingers were coated in a thick gold sheen. She looked down and realized in horror that her pants were soaked with blood, four deep gashes penetrating her thigh. She hadn’t even noticed that she was hurting herself! She quietly found the nearest first aid kit and wrapped the injury. She was a bit tired now, so she decided that she would go back to sleep.
When Charlie awoke, she found a note from Vaggie.
‘You look like you really needed the rest,
so I let you sleep in. I’ll handle breakfast.
Sleep well!
Love,
Vaggie’
She checked the time and realized with a start that her lecture started in fifteen minutes. She rushed to put on presentable clothes and get downstairs, and only made it just in time.
Half an hour into her lecture, Charlie begins to feel a bit dizzy, but it’s probably fine.
A few minutes later, a metallic smell hits her nose, but it’s probably fine.
A few minutes after that she heard whispers begin to move through the patrons, but it’s probably fine.
Two minutes later, she touched her hand to her leg and felt a sticky substance coating her fingers. Blood. She had bled through the bandages and her pants. Just as the amount of blood this would take begins to register in her foggy mind, she falls forward, her body giving in to the pressure.