Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I think I love you.”

…

“I’m sorry.”

•7 years later•

Vox was waiting. Watching and waiting for any sign of crackling interference, of corrupted footage and a telltale flash of red.

Vox had been waiting for seven years.

Seven years since Alastor disappeared, leaving no trace behind. Seven years since he’d seen his closest, and only, friend. Seven years since he told said friend he loved him.

Six years since he broke away from Velvette and Valentino, leaving them to attempt to scrounge together a partnership without him. They weren’t happy about it.

Five years since his overlord status was revoked due to his not attending any of the meetings, not gathering any new soul contracts, not doing much of anything.

Four years since he cancelled all his soul contracts, as it wasn’t like he was using them anyway, may as well let the poor sinners go. Not like he was an overlord anymore.

Three years since he last left his tower, preferring instead to throw himself deeper into his work, producing more technology than ever, and when he wasn’t working, he was watching.

Two years since he got Vark, in a desperate attempt to force himself to remain a functional person with a somewhat stable routine. It helped.
A little.

One year since he finally admitted to himself that Alastor probably wasn’t coming back. Not that it meant he would stop looking. If there’s one thing Vox was, it was stubborn. Stubborn enough to keep his company running alone, while spending hours, sometimes days at a time flicking through every camera in the city. Machine automated systems which he powered to build and release new device after new device, ensuring his technology was everywhere, that nowhere in the Pentagram could hide from him. He had perfected the system. It had been seven years after all.
He’d had time.

Seven years since Alastor left.

One month since Alastor came back. Not that Vox knew of course, with the Hazbin (formerly Happy) Hotel being a dark spot for technology, helped in no small part by Alastor himself destroying all the cameras in the area before he even set foot there.

All that is to say, Vox was waiting. Watching and waiting. But enough was enough. Seven years was a long time, and maybe it was about time he faced the truth. Alastor was gone, having come up with the ultimate act of rejection by completely fucking off out of existence. Seven years was the limit, the maximum time someone could be missing before being declared legally dead, and maybe it was different in Hell, but Vox didn’t think anyone would’ve been able to hide that well for that long, so his options were limited. He sighed, and after seven years, pulled away from the cameras and turned off the screens. Enough was enough.

He stood and the room spun, his vision blurring briefly before returning to normal. He had to lean against his desk to avoid falling over. Had it really been that long since he stood up? With a sigh he dismissed the error notifications flashing at the sides of his screen and stood up again, successfully this time, before walking towards the door. He knew exactly where it was, tucked away in a safe behind a shelving unit in his bedroom, the key, mechanical for once, in a drawer in his office. The gun loaded with a single angelic bullet.

His final fail safe had been obtained soon after his arrival in Hell, purchased secretly from Carmine Enterprises under a pseudonym and kept hidden as the ultimate “just in case”. Just in case someone managed to breach the tower and make to his private quarters, just in case an Exorcist broke in and he needed to defend himself, just in case he needed to destroy his computer system, punch a hole in the main processor and erase everything. Just in case he hit a wall again, an obstacle he couldn’t overcome, and needed an easy way out.

Wait. Shit.

Vox stopped. How could he forget! Vark. He couldn’t leave him alone. Who would order his food when it ran out, stock the automatic feeder, make sure the tank water was clean and the right temperature? The thought of Vark being left alone in the tower to slowly starve made him feel sick, and he realised he’d have to solve that problem first.

Shaking his head, he turned around. The apartment was so quiet. Without the extra stimulation of the constant camera feeds, it felt like something was missing. Maybe he could -no. That was too much, too sentimental -oh fuck it.

He dug out the small box from the back of the wardrobe, the wood that was once polished to perfection now covered in a thick layer of dust, and opened it. Just seeing it made his heart (one of the few biological parts he knew he’d retained) skip a beat.

He gently set the radio on the counter and turned it on. It gleamed under the harsh lights, polish as pristine as the day it was given to him. It crackled to life and began playing soft jazz, the music soothing despite the fact that he couldn’t name the song. The silence remedied, Vox figured he should let Vark out while he figured out what he was going to do.

The land shark pup was very pleased to see him up and about, running and jumping around the apartment, tail swishing enthusiastically and knocking things off shelves as he passed. Once Vark completed his destructive lap, he turned and jumped on Vox, knocking him over and licking every inch of his screen he could reach. Vox laughed, then cringed at how rough his voice was from lack of use. How ironic, a TV host with a broken voice.

Once he got Vark settled by scrounging up a bone for him to chew on, he flopped down on the couch to plan. Something had to change, he knew that. He couldn’t just stay like this forever, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming back. But what to do about Vark? He definitely wasn’t about to leave him to fend for himself, but who had the space and time to care for a very energetic land shark pup?

He sat for ten minutes before the idea struck him, and why didn’t he think of it before? The complete train wreck of an interview had made him laugh for the first time in a while. The princess had that hotel for sinners. She was sure to have space, it hadn’t sounded like it would be popular, and the princess of Hell would definitely be powerful enough to rein in Vark when he got excited. She also seemed like she was enough of a bleeding heart to agree to take him. Alright, that could work.

Now he had a plan he felt a little better about his decision. He wouldn’t be leaving Vark alone to fend for himself, but rather with someone kind and capable of caring for him. Now to put that plan into motion. He stood from the couch, with only a small stumble this time, and got to work.

He wasn’t sure if the hotel had a phone, and he didn’t want to risk his voice failing again, especially not to the princess of Hell (he may not be an overlord anymore, but he still had standards) so he settled on writing a letter. Old fashioned as it was, it was almost therapeutic to do something with his hands other than type. Vark lay at his feet as sat at his desk writing. The final letter read as follows:

‘Princess Morningstar,

I hope you are well. Would it be possible to arrange a time to meet as I have something I need to discuss with you.

In return for your time I have attached a donation for your hotel.

Respectfully,
Vox’

He winced. Not his best work, but the pile of crumpled paper on the floor told him this was as good as it was gonna get. The donation was generous, after all, he may not be an overlord anymore, but all of Hell still uses his technology, so he could afford it. He really hoped she’d agree to take care of Vark.

He almost gestured to summon an employee to deliver the letter when he remembered he had no one employed anymore. Well fuck. Guess he’s taking Vark for a walk. Leaving his tower.
For the first time in years. As he closed the door behind him, the radio stopped singing as a transatlantic accented voice filled the room.

*****

The first time Vox heard the broadcasts, he’d been in Hell for only a couple of weeks, and had barely been scraping by. Between adjusting to his new form, the heavy box that took the place of his head being the main thing, and being in a new place with no money, no allies, and nowhere to live, it was all he could do to stay alive. Well, not double dead.

He’d managed to find a small studio space to live in, somewhere that at least gave him a defensible position. He hadn’t had to go through an extermination yet but from what he’d heard it definitely wasn’t something you wanted to be caught out in. His possessions were few, but among them was a small radio, a cracked tinny thing that crackled more than played music.

Until the broadcast started, and the sound was suddenly clear as if the person speaking was in the room with him. He’d startled like crazy, jumping up and glancing around before he realised that he was actually alone. Then he tuned his attention to the radio, to the smooth transatlantic accent coming from it. The voice was soothing to listen to, calming his heart which felt as though it had been racing the entire time he’d been in Hell.

Then the screams started and he quickly switched it off. The next few times he listened to the broadcast he listened more clearly to the voice, but continued to turn it off when the screams began. Eventually he fell into a pattern where he knew which broadcasts included screams and which didn’t, so he was able to listen to the voice without having to hear any of the awful tortured screaming. It was only a few weeks later that he finally learnt the name behind the voice, on a random night in an underground bar. The radio demon. Alastor.

*****

It was warmer outside than he remembered, the heat causing his ventilation fans to speed up slightly. Vark was thrilled to be outside, and was tugging on the leash, wanting to smell everything, and maybe take a nibble of unsuspecting sinners. Vox kept a tight hold on him to prevent that. He didn’t want any trouble between his tower and the hotel. It was slightly further than he expected, and he was reminded that not moving or eating much for years was not a recipe for physical strength. By the time he reached the front doors of the hotel he was regretting every decision he ever made as he rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath, Vark laying beside him panting.

Now all he had to do was actually deliver his message. He straightened up and prepared to knock, then stopped. What if the princess answered the door? He wasn’t ready to speak to her right now, he hadn’t worked out what to say yet. He dropped his hand to his side, stepping back from the door. Vox sighed, running a hand down his screen and looking down at Vark, who was oblivious to his problem. He ran a hand over the shark’s head, grimacing slightly.

“I didn’t think this through, huh Varky? Not at all.”

Vark licked his hand.

Laughing softly, he wiped his hand on his jacket before digging the letter out of his pocket. This was such a bad idea. But it wasn’t like he had other options. He glanced between the letter and the door, torn between wanting to make sure his pet was looked after and really not wanting to embarrass himself further in front of whoever opened the door. Vox stood there for ten minutes, trying to weigh up his options. Then he spotted the mail slot in the door and mentally kicked himself. He slipped the letter through the slot before he could talk himself out of it and then immediately tuned and began walking away, Vark trailing after him. He made it almost to the edge of the patio when he heard the door open and a gruff voice call out.

“Vox? Did you just drop this through the door?”

Fuck. He considered not responding and instead bolting away, but they’d already seen him and he refused to be even more of a pathetic loser than he already was. He turned around.

“Uh, yes. Hi. I wanted to contact the princess but I wasn’t sure if you had a working phone.” He cringed inwardly at his rambling even as he fixed a TV ready smile firmly on his face, holding Vark’s leash tightly so he didn’t pull him over. He recognised the person who answered the door, the former overlord seeming unbothered by his odd behaviour.

“We don’t have a working phone. Usually people just show up unannounced.” Husk grumbled, glancing between Vox, Vark, and the letter in his hand. Paw? Whatever it was. Vox once again contemplated running away, but Husk continued.

“So, do you wanna come in? You can wait in the lobby-“ He’s interrupted by a shout from inside.

“Who are you talkin’ to out there Husk?” A voice with a strong New York accent calls and the feline sinner turns to shout back.

“Someone here to see the princess! Don’t worry about it!” When he turned back Vox’s smile was slightly strained, and it was becoming more obvious he didn’t want to be here. Husk ignored this.

“So, you wanna come in? I’ll give your letter to the princess.”

Vox hesitated, but then he glanced down at Vark. He had to do this, he might not get another chance, and it was a pretty big favour to ask her to take care of a land shark pup, no matter how friendly Vark was. So he nodded, and followed Husk into the hotel.

It was thankfully cooler inside the building, with the dark red decor slightly easier on the eyes than the chaos of Hell’s streets. He found a chair in the lobby that looked comfortable enough and Vark flopped on the floor in front of him. Husk handed the letter to a small sinner who Vox didn’t quite make out, then beelined for the bar, where sitting seemingly waiting for him is -holy shit is that Angel Dust?! Vox had met him once, six years ago when Valentino had offered ownership of Angel’s soul to Vox in a desperate attempt to keep their alliance. Vox hadn’t really cared, and had rejected his contract, only two years before he cancelled the rest. Still, it was awkward to see him here after being offered his soul in some sort of strange grovelling. Vox sunk down in his seat and hoped Angel wouldn’t notice him.

“Holy shit is that Vox?”

Fuck. He’d been spotted. Why was he here, what could have possibly convinced him this was a good idea. Right, Vark. As soon as the princess agreed to take care of his pet, he could bolt and never see any of these people again. Because he’d be dead. Screaming inside even as he smiled, he turned to face Angel Dust, who is sitting at the bar with a shocked expression on his face.

“That’s me. Hello.” Wow, Vox, so eloquently put. “Nice to see you again. How have you been?” He died a little inside as the words left his mouth. Angel Dust seemed stunned for a moment before snapping out of it, eyes narrowing.

“You rejected my contract! What, was I not good enough for ya or something?!” Angel snapped, gesturing angrily.

“I cancelled all my contracts. I don’t own any souls anymore.” Vox replied, screen ready smile still brightly displayed despite his flat tone of voice. Angel blinked.

“Oh. Well, Val wasn’t happy.” He said simply, settling back into his seat at the bar.

Vox sighed. At least Angel didn’t seem too pissed at him, that definitely could have gone worse. As much as he didn’t really care if Angel Dust liked him or not, he needed the princess’s favour, and having one of her residents hate him would definitely hinder that. That and he didn’t want to start any fights. He could definitely handle himself, just because he wasn’t an overlord anymore didn’t mean he was weak, he did still control all the technology in the city after all, but he wasn’t used to throwing down and was really hoping to get through the day being civil.

While mentally congratulating himself for getting through a conversation without blowing his chances of a safe home for Vark, he somehow missed the entrance of another person until there was a spear in his face and shouting in the air. He froze as he felt the energy radiating off the angelic steel and dimly registered the shouts coming from the bar.

“Wait Vaggie stop! He’s not here for trouble!”

“Holy fuck you can’t threaten every sinner who walks through the front door!”

Vox snapped back to reality when he heard Vark growling slightly in response to his person being threatened. His fans sped up as he began panicking, leaning forward slightly to try to calm the shark so he wouldn’t be seen as a threat, ignoring how close the point of the spear was to his chest, the power radiating from it making his head spin, the same power that radiated from the single bullet in his wall.

“Easy Vark, it’s alright. Calm down boy, it’s just a misunderstanding. That’s it.” Once Vark was settled he raised his head to look at the weapon’s wielder. A short moth sinner with long white hair and a cross over one eye stared down at him, no longer looking angry but rather cautious.

“Why are you here?” Her voice was firm, but not accusing, more like she genuinely wanted an explanation. Vox raised his hands slightly in surrender.

“I came to meet with the princess, I have something I need to ask her. I would have called ahead but you don’t have a phone, and when I tried to send a letter I ended up delivering it in person so I was invited in. I don’t want any trouble.” The words tumbled out quickly, the way he used to deliver messages in his broadcasts, before his life fell apart. The moth sinner, he thought he heard Husk call her Vaggie, lowered her spear and he breathed a small sigh of relief. She eyed him for another moment before vanishing the spear and walking over to the bar where she and Angel whispered to each other for several minutes. Vox thinks he overheard some Spanish mixed in but it was too fast for him to catch anything. He scratched Vark absentmindedly while he waited, then put his smile back on when she returned to face him.

“You can see Charlie, but if you try anything, it’ll be the last meeting you ever attend. Understand?” Her tone was serious, and he detected an undertone of worry. Ah, this must be the princess’s girlfriend he’s vaguely heard about. He smiled wider and nodded, definitely not wanting to get on her bad side. She narrowed her eyes and walked away. He exhaled slightly shakily after she left, thankful he managed to get through another interaction without ruining the whole reason he was here. He glanced down at Vark, who looked up at him with that dumb puppy expression that melted his heart a little.

“You’re lucky you’re so damn adorable, I’m doing this for you.” He whispered, going back to scratching Vark on the head and knowing full well the shark had no idea what’s going on. He was beginning to wonder how long he’d have to wait when he hears footsteps coming down the stairs and then two more people are approaching him. A small sinner, wait, was that Niffty? He didn’t have time to process that because with her was the princess of Hell herself.

He stood, smiling like he was on air again, and put forward the hand not holding Vark to greet the princess. She raised an eyebrow but shook his hand anyway, and he prepared to launch into his rehearsed spiel when he felt something touch his leg and a moment later he was staring into a single large red eye as the small maid latched onto him. He blinked and she tightened her grip in a way that slightly unnerved him.

“Where have you been?” She said, her pupil dilating as she got even closer to his screen. He leant back, unsure how to respond.

“Uh, what?”

He stumbled slightly as the princess grabbed the small sinner and pulled her off him, apologising frantically.

“Niffty! Personal space! I’m so sorry about that, we’ve tried to teach her about boundaries but she hasn’t quite got it yet. Are you alright? Vox right? I got your letter, a little unexpected cause people usually just walk in or break down a wall or something. And I wasn’t really expecting an overlord to want to meet with me.” She said, and he tried to interrupt to say that he technically wasn’t an overlord anymore but she continued rambling excitedly.

“I gotta say I’m curious and I can meet with you right now if that works, I’m not busy so if that’s alright with you we can talk now?” She stopped and he realised she was waiting for his response. Fixing his facial expression back to his practised smile he nodded, hoping she couldn’t tell how unprepared he was. She just smiled even brighter somehow and gestured for him to follow her.

“We can talk in my office, you can bring your… pet with you or leave him out here, Husk and Angel can watch him!”

The indignant shouts from the bar said otherwise, but when he hesitated, Husk sighed and grumbled.

“Yeah, we’ll watch him. Don’t worry about it.” His tone was gruff but Vox picked up on a genuine undertone so he nodded before tying Vark’s leash to the table and following the princess to her office. He figured if he was asking the hotel to take Vark permanently then he had to trust them to watch him now, and even though he knew Vark didn’t understand most words, he couldn’t bring himself to voice his plan in front of the shark pup.

Once inside the office, the princess sat behind a large wooden desk and gestured for him to take a seat. He did so, gaze lingering on the desk as the woodwork almost looked familiar. He shook his head slightly. How ridiculous, he’s never been here before, or interacted with anything the princess had made. Funny though, some of the carvings definitely reminded him of something.

Back at his tower, the wooden radio continued its unheard broadcast.

Settling into the familiar setting of a business meeting, still well known even after years of isolation, he smiled confidently at the princess and began the speech he had meant to give earlier before Niffty interrupted it.

“Hello Princess Morningstar, thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I-“

She cut him off, smiling and waving flippantly.

“Oh please, no need for formality, just call me Charlie!” She said, smiling brightly. He cleared his throat and started again.

“Alright, Charlie, I won’t keep you waiting. I have a favour to ask you that I felt would be best asked in person. You see, I’m going to be… going away soon, and I need someone to look after Vark, and I was hoping your hotel would be able to host him. I will supply his preferred food and all his things, and I’m happy to donate further if you agree.” He finished with another confident smile, hoping she wouldn’t notice how desperate he was.

“Vark is your pet right? Sure, we can look after him while you’re away. How long will you be gone?” She tilted her head curiously, still smiling warmly. He wondered briefly if her cheeks hurt, then winced as he registered her question.

“See that’s the thing, I’m going to be away for a significant amount of time, that being… forever.” His facade was cracking. The princess’s smile dropped but he pushed on. “I’m afraid I will be uh, leaving permanently, and I need Vark to be looked after when I’m… gone.”

He waited while she seemed to process his words, then to his shock she started tearing up, her eyes wide and shining.

“Why?”

“Why do I want my shark looked after? Because he’s been a good pet and doesn’t deserve to be left alone-“

“No, why do you want to die?”

He flinched at her wording, smile disappearing, anger sparking in his chest.

“Why do I- first of all that’s a very personal question to be asking someone you just met, and secondly, well-because what else do I have?! Nothing means anything anymore! l’m not an overlord, I’m not anyone, its not like I have a lot to live for. I have no allies, I cancelled my contracts, they didn’t mean anything without… I’ve been waiting for seven years for someone I’ve realised is never coming back! I mean, he’s probably dead by now, I was stupid to think otherwise, stupid to think he cared at all about me, stupid to wait this long!” He’d stood from his chair and begun pacing back and forth around the office, hands gesturing wildly.

“So I figured fuck it all, I’ll just put the angelic bullet through my head because then at least I won’t be waiting anymore! I just..” He trailed off, and realised absently that he’d started crying when he felt the static of water on his screen making him glitch.

“I just can’t wait anymore.” He sighed, dropping his head as he crossed his arms in front of himself. “This was a mistake, I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

He turned and left, leaving Charlie still sitting at her desk, shocked. After a second she snapped out of it, standing and fumbling to follow him.

“Wait! Vox, come back!”

He ignored her, walking swiftly back through the lobby, ignoring the questions from Husk and Angel Dust. He was almost to the door when he heard Vark whine and stopped, giving Charlie the chance to catch up to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Vox.” Her voice was gentle too, her hand steady on his shoulder even when he glitched. “Stay.”

He laughed, a hollow, humourless sound, then dropped his head into his hands. Anger sparked in his chest and his voice hardened.

“Why? I don’t… I don’t see the point in redemption. Isn’t that your whole thing?” He said, glancing through his fingers at her. She smiled softly.

“Actually my ‘thing’ is helping my people. Which includes you. And the hotel is for rehabilitation as well, so I think we can let this one occasion slide.”

He paused and considered her words, the anger fading into indifference. Should he stay? It’s not like he had any good reason not to, he wasn’t sure he really cared either way. Well, Charlie seemed to want him to stay, and this way he could make sure Vark adjusted well to a new environment.

He nodded slowly. Then he stumbled as Charlie threw her arms around him, and he glitched slightly in surprise. She pulled back quickly, smiling even as she wiped her eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just really glad you decided to stay. Oh I’ll have to tell Vaggie, she’ll be so excited!” She rambled excitedly, and he smiled, a little shakily, but this time genuine. She continued her rambling, grabbing his hand and leading him away from the doors back into the lobby.

“And we’ll have to set up a room for you, and one for Vark, and I’ll have to let Alastor know-“ She cut off as he stopped walking suddenly, his screen glitching more violently as he stuttered.

“Wha- what did you s-say?” A stricken expression flickered on and off his screen, and she turned to him, clearly concerned.

“Vox? Are you alright?” She took a step towards him but he stumbled back, electricity sparking around him and his fans whirring to try to cool his quickly overheating system. Alastor? The radio demon was here? He was back and he hadn’t said anything? How? Why?

Heart racing, he glanced around the lobby and was met with concerned looks from Charlie and Husk, while Angel Dust was trying to calm Vark who was whining in response to his distress. He clutched his head as error messages popped up, not able to focus enough to read them. He was breathing too quickly and everything was suddenly too bright and too loud. He vaguely registered the smell of smoke and Charlie’s alarmed cry before his system shut down and everything cut to black.

Alastor had just signed off and ended his broadcast when the lights flickered. Unusual, but not worrying. He hummed softly to himself as he tidied up his radio tower before descending into the main building of the hotel. He was strolling down a hallway when the lights cut off completely for a few seconds before relighting. Definitely unusual. Making his way towards the lobby he heard shouting, the frantic kind that occurs when something exciting is happening. Smile widening, he quickened his pace, looking forward to whatever chaos the hotel residents had managed to get into this time. He rounded the end of the hallway and descended the main staircase to be met with the sight of… oh.

He hadn’t expected that.

Vox was sprawled on the floor in the middle of the lobby. Charlie was kneeling on the floor next to him, Husk watching from the bar and Angel Dust struggling to calm a large blue creature that was straining to get free from a leash. The room smelled vaguely of smoke. There was no sign of Niffty, but he glimpsed Vagatha running into the room, spear drawn, likely summoned by Charlie’s shouting. Speaking of Charlie, she was hovering anxiously over Vox, whose screen was dark and still. It unsettled him to see the usually lively sinner (his friend) so lifeless, but then he noticed the static in the air, felt the gentle hum that surrounded Vox, signalling that he was alright. Fixing his smile, he strode over to stand beside Charlie.

“What has happened here, my dear?” He questioned, pointedly not looking at Vox, who was still yet to respond. “Care to enlighten me as to why this picture box is lying on our floor?”

Charlie turned to him, eyes shining with tears.

“I don’t know what happened! He was fine, well maybe not fine, but functioning, and then he just collapsed! Is there anything you can do? He came here for help, we have to help him!”

Alastor laughed.

“I think you’ll find I don’t have to do anything. I’m helping you run a hotel, not a hospital. If he were a radio I’m sure I could fix the issue but I’m afraid this,” he gently tapped his microphone on the edge of Vox’s head, “is after my time.”

To his surprise, Charlie responded not with tears, but with anger, her horns sprouting and the temperature rising.

“If I find out you could have helped and didn’t, I’ll-“ She stopped, returning to her regular form when Vox shifted, screen flickering as he regained consciousness. Alastor took several steps back, unsure if he could face his old friend. A moment later he vanished into the shadows.

The first thing Vox felt was static. A kind of static he hadn’t felt in seven years. Then it vanished, and his vision returned, and he was met with the sight of the princess’s anxious face, and behind her was… the ceiling? Was he on the floor? He groaned softly, running a hand down his screen before pushing himself up to sitting, ignoring how his head spun. Charlie continued to fret, hands hovering over him.

“Oh my gosh Vox are you alright? You shut down so suddenly and you collapsed, I caught you so your head didn’t hit the floor, but there was smoke and you were overheated I-“ He holds a hand up to stop her.

“I’m fine. I… I don’t want to talk about it. But you said… you said Alastor was here. Is that true?” He said, and he realised that was the first time he’d said his old friend’s name in almost seven years. Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed in response to his serious tone.

“Well yeah, he’s right here…” She glanced around before looking back at him. “He was right here, he’s helping run the hotel. You didn’t know that?”

He shook his head slightly. Glancing around the room he could see the other hotel residents looking at him and he inwardly winced. Great first impression, freak out and collapse in front of everyone. Maybe it was time to rethink not ending himself. But… Alastor is here.

He didn’t know what to do now. All his plans were off the table, his reasons gone. He stared at the floor blankly. Alastor being back didn’t change anything. It isn’t like he’d come to visit, or even told him he wasn’t dead. It isn’t like he gave him any sign to indicate he gave a shit. Did it change anything? No. (Yes. It changed everything.)

He waved Charlie away, got to his feet, then swayed so violently that he would have gone right back down if it weren’t for Charlie’s hands holding him upright. Vaggie, thankfully now spear-less, grabbed his other side and together they manoeuvred him to one of the couches placed to the side of the lobby. He sank into the cushions, wondering what the fuck his afterlife was coming to, and barely noticing Charlie sitting beside him until she gasped softly.

“Oh! He’s who you were waiting for, isn’t he.” She said gently, and it wasn’t really a question. He stared forward blankly, unable to take his greatest mistake, the fact that he was in lov- the fact that he was attached to Alastor, thrown back in his face. No use denying it now. He stayed silent, the lack of rebuttal a confirmation in itself. Charlie softened further, looking at him with what might have been compassion, but could also have been pity. Maybe both. He took a deep, unnecessary breath and let it out all at once.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say. Or do. I didn’t want to exist if he wasn’t there, but now… I don’t know if I can face him. I don’t even know if I want to. What would I say to him? How would I even start?” A hint of desperation crept into his voice and he found he didn’t have the energy to care. Something nudged his side and he turned to see Vark sitting on the couch beside him, uncharacteristically well behaved. That was what broke him. All his carefully constructed facades came crumbling down as his mask cracked open and tears poured out, the static making his screen fuzz and his voice break as he sobbed, face buried in his hands, the pain of seven years finally catching up.

Alastor was conflicted. He hadn’t consciously intended to avoid his old friend, but the more he looked back at his recent actions the more apparent it became. Heightening his aura so as not to appear on film, destroying all the cameras in the area around the hotel, all seemed to point to him avoiding Vox. He tried to tell himself he had a good reason, but as hard as he tried he couldn’t seem to think of one. It was very frustrating. He was supposed to be the rational, controlled one, every action purposeful, every situation carefully managed. Yet here he was hiding in his room while his friend was downstairs seemingly having a breakdown, if the flickering lights were any indication.

He still remembered the last time he saw Vox. That night would be burned into his memory forever. He still wasn’t sure if he made the right choice. Not about leaving, he knew he’d had to leave, but about not telling Vox sooner. About potentially letting him believe it was his fault. He remembered the look on Vox’s face, his stupidly expressive face that could never hide anything, when he said those words, the words that haunt him to this day.

*****

“Alastor, look, we’ve been friends for a while now.” Vox smiled, glancing between Alastor and the view from the rooftop they were standing on. They were standing side by side, leaning on the railing overlooking the centre of the city, the lights twinkling and the air so still you could almost forget it was hell.

“It has been a while hasn’t it?” He could tell Vox had more than that to say.

“You helped me when nobody else would even spare me a glance, and I’ll always be grateful for that. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me, I mean, I probably would have figured it out eventually, but I really do owe so much to you, I… sorry, I’m rambling. Look, what I mean to say is, our friendship means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. I think…
I think I love you.”

It felt as though time stopped. Vox had turned to face him, and the look on the younger overlord’s face was so damn hopeful that it made something twist in his chest. No. No, no, no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lead Vox on like that, not when he wouldn’t be able to give him what he wanted. Because surely Vox wanted more than he could give, wanted a proper relationship. That couldn’t happen, he couldn’t let this happen. What could he say?

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t feel the same.” With that he turned away, before melting into the shadows.

*****

Alastor tensed. Had he made the wrong decision? Seeing Vox again… he felt that now familiar twist in his chest that seemed to occur whenever he let himself think about his old friend. His old friend who did not seem to have coped well with his absence. He didn’t understand. Vox had been a powerful overlord with the beginnings of an alliance with two others. He’d owned hundreds of souls, and influenced even more through his technology, an impressive feat, not that Alastor would ever say it out loud. He was well on his way to being one of the most powerful overlords in hell, but since Alastor had returned he’d seen no trace of that power.

Soon after his return he’d discovered that Vox had disbanded his alliance, leaving the other two to try to find success without him. Alastor had laughed at that. Laughter that subsided when he overheard that Vox had also cancelled all his soul contracts, a move he still struggled to comprehend. Owning souls was everything in Hell, and he couldn’t fathom just letting them go.

Then he found out Vox was no longer an overlord. When had that happened? Even without owning souls, Vox was powerful, even he acknowledged that, and his influence still seemed widespread, with pretty much every sinner carrying a VoxTek product and surveillance cameras lining every street in the city. He didn’t understand, but he wasn’t about to ask Carmilla anything, he would not have people thinking he cared.

He didn’t have the answers, and it irritated him to no end. He couldn’t fully piece together what connected the Vox he left, the powerful overlord who was quickly rising Hell’s ranks, to the Vox he’d heard of and witnessed downstairs, stripped of his title, owning no souls, unconscious on the floor of the hotel lobby.

His inner conflict was interrupted by a knock on the door and Charlie’s voice calling through the wood.

“Alastor? I know you’re in there, we need to talk!”

He sighed, not wanting to deal with this right now, but fixed his smile and unlocked the door anyway. She stormed in, Vaggie close behind her, and levelled him with a glare, hands planted on her hips.

“What did you do?” Her tone was flat, barely contained anger seeping through. When he offered no response besides a raised eyebrow she narrowed her eyes further.

“Seven years ago. What happened. I know you did something, said something-“

“Where is Vox?” Alastor cut her off, and her anger seemed to falter, her eyes widening.

“He’s downstairs, he fell asleep. Husk is watching him. Don’t avoid the question! Tell me what happened between you two.” She didn’t seem angry anymore, just determined, and he knew he wasn’t likely to get out of this one.

“Fine. We were friends. He told me something important, however I did not accept it.” At Charlie’s stubborn glare, he elaborated. “He confessed to loving me, but I did not feel the same. I said as much, then I left. That was the last time I saw him. Satisfied?”

“Bullshit.”

Alastor’s gaze snapped to Vaggie as she spoke up. He narrowed his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he growled, radio static tempering his voice. Vaggie stood her ground.

“Bull. Shit. I think you care about him a lot more than you say, and I think you’re scared of your own feelings. And if you attack me I’ll take it as confirmation.” She crossed her arms, proud of herself, and he wanted so badly to say she was wrong, but he couldn’t. Because she wasn’t. She wasn’t, and the realisation shook him, because he had been so determined to ignore that twist in his chest, ignore the cold fear he felt when he saw Vox lying on the floor before he felt the faint static in the air. He did care about Vox.

Fuck.

He’d made the wrong choice.

He smoothed his expression back into his usual smile, chuckling softly.

“Now Vagatha, what a ridiculous notion! Me, being in love with that ridiculous picture box? How silly! We were friends yes, but to think I would feel anything more for him, ha! Now, why don’t you two run along and check on him, hm? This conversation is over.” With that he used his shadows to push them out the door and close it behind them. Now alone, he was forced to come to terms with the feelings it took him seven years to acknowledge.

He loved Vox.
And by leaving, he’d broken him.

Out in the hallway, Vaggie and Charlie met each other’s eyes.

“He was lying wasn’t he? He’s totally in love with Vox.” Charlie whispered to Vaggie once they were far enough away. Vaggie laughed.

“Oh definitely. I’m just not sure if he knows yet. But I guess if Vox is staying here he’ll have plenty of opportunities to figure it out.” She said, then caught Charlie’s concerned expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Alastor has hurt Vox before. If he’s staying here I have to have his best interests at heart, and Alastor isn’t exactly the most… caring. I’m just worried.” Charlie glanced away. Vaggie took her girlfriend’s hands.

“I think we’ve gotta let them figure this one out on their own. But, if it looks like Alastor is going to fuck it up again, we’ll step in, how’s that sound?” Vaggie said, and Charlie smiled.

“Sounds good.” Charlie’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Vaggie noticed.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” She asked softly and Charlie nodded.

“Vox told me he came here to ask me to take care of Vark, because he was going to kill himself. Permanently. Vaggie I can’t let that happen, what kind of princess would I be if I let that happen?” Her eyes shone with tears and Vaggie pulled her into an embrace.

“Don’t worry. You’ll help him, and I’ll be right there with you.”

Chapter Text

The second time Vox woke up at the hotel it was to a dark lobby, the only sound being Vark’s soft snores from where he was sleeping on the floor. Vox sat up and looked around, the light from his screen illuminating the dark red walls. He glimpsed movement and turned to see the princess- Charlie, she said to call her, sitting with her moth sinner partner, Vaggie if he remembered correctly. They were sitting at the bar, speaking quietly to each other, but stopped and turned to face him when they saw the light he gave off. Charlie hopped off her stool and approached him.

“Hey, you fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, it seemed like you needed the rest. How are you? Sorry, that’s probably not a simple question to answer. If you still want to stay here, and I hope you do, there’s a room upstairs for you.” She smiled warmly at him and he took a moment to process, his brain not working at its usual speed.

“Um, yeah, I will stay. Thank you.” He said, falling back into old habits, the manners trained into him when he was alive coming back without him thinking about it. Charlie smiled wider, and he saw Vaggie give him a nod of approval from the bar. He gently roused Vark, the shark blinking sleepily up at him before settling back down and going back to sleep. He sighed.

“Is it alright if he stays here? He won’t be any trouble.” He couldn’t help the slightly anxious note in his voice, but Charlie waved it off.

“Oh that’s fine, I don’t mind. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

He followed her deeper into the hotel, upstairs and down a long hallway before she stopped outside a door.

“Here’s your room, feel free to change it around and decorate however you like, if you put a little of your power into it the room will adjust to fit! Let’s see,” she began listing things off, counting on her fingers, “Niffty will come in and try and clean unless you tell her not to, there’s no strong alcohol kept in the hotel, breakfast is served pretty late but if you get hungry you are allowed to use the kitchen, just don’t touch the deep freezer. Oh and we’re doing activities tomorrow so feel free to join in if you feel up to it. That’s about it, goodnight!”
With that she handed him a small key before practically skipping away, leaving him standing slightly overwhelmed outside his door. He unlocked the door, mentally planning to replace it with an electronic lock, and went inside, pretty much immediately flopping onto the bed and falling asleep.

When he woke up he experienced a brief moment of panic when he didn’t recognise where he was and couldn’t find Vark, before remembering he was in the hotel and Vark was likely still asleep in the lobby due to the early hour. Once his heart had slowed to a more reasonable tempo, he glanced around the room. It was simple, with the same dark red colour palette as the rest of the hotel. He concentrated for a moment and the wallpaper shifted to be closer to navy blue, and the dark wood accents changed to lighter polished stone. Much more to his tastes. He left it mostly as it was, something about the simple wooden furniture reminded him of his home when he was alive, and he found it surprisingly calming. He did redo the entire bathroom though.

Once the room was starting to feel more like somewhere he could live, he found himself thinking about other parts of the hotel. Like the residents. Overall he was not thrilled about who he’d have to interact with, considering he used to work with the overlord who owned Angel Dust’s soul and even if the spider didn’t seem mad, it was still awkward. Husk he had no issue with so far, but his track record wasn’t inspiring hope, and the former overlord would likely have questions. The maid, Niffty, was mostly harmless but made him a little uncomfortable, added to by the fact that she was Alastor’s thrall and had formed somewhat of an attachment to him back when they’d been friends. The princess and her partner seemed alright, despite his embarrassment at them witnessing his breakdowns, (he hated that there were multiple) and that just left… Alastor. He still wasn’t sure what to do if he actually came face to face with Alastor. Maybe Alastor wasn’t super involved in the hotel and he wouldn’t have to cross that bridge for a while. Hopefully.

After getting dressed he decided to explore the hotel and check on Vark. He opened the door to the hallway… only to be met with the one person he really didn’t want to see. He shut the door in Alastor’s face. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, what the hell is he supposed to do?! He schooled his expression into something that hopefully didn’t give anything away before opening the door again. Alastor hadn’t changed at all. Still smiling, still infuriatingly difficult to read. Vox decided to wait for Alastor to make the first move.

“Hello old friend. I believe we need to talk.” Alastor said, and rather than the radio worthy tone Vox was used to, he sounded… tired. He stared for a second before glancing away.

“Not much to talk about, is there?” He said blankly, pointedly not looking Alastor in the eye. “You left.” He said sharply, anger he hadn’t quite expected blossoming in his chest. He was angry at Alastor, both for leaving and for not telling him when he’d somehow returned. Alastor’s current position was a small consolation, his smile strained and his posture uncertain.

“I did. I… apologise for not telling you sooner. Also when I returned. I should have contacted you. I’m sorry. May I have a chance to explain myself?” Alastor said slowly, and Vox stared at him. What? After a moment he nodded slowly, stepping back from the door to allow Alastor to enter. Mentally he was berating himself. The first time Alastor showed his face and he folded instantly. He felt somewhat numb, sitting on the edge of his bed while Alastor leaned on the edge of the wooden desk. Vox cleared his throat.

“Look. I don’t… seven years is a long time. So… explain.” He said curtly, and Alastor nodded, smile dimming til it was barely there. Vox waited while he seemed to prepare himself.

“That night,” Alastor began, “I had already decided to leave. That decision had nothing to do with you. I apologise if I led you to believe otherwise. I realise I might have. There is also the matter of what was said,” He paused, and Vox wished he would stop, just not bring up what was one of his greatest regrets, but Alastor continued, “I have done a lot of thinking, and I will admit that I was not very gentleman-like. I apologise for that too. I… I value our friendship, very much, and I should not have been so cold, but I was… taken by surprise. I’m sorry. Then there was the circumstances of my return. I could not bear to face my past mistakes, so I avoided you, and I shouldn’t have. I am truly sorry Vox.”

Vox was speechless. Of all the conversations he had imagined, he could not have ever possibly expected that. Alastor apologising? It seemed impossible, but here he was, with the most sincere expression Vox had ever seen on him, seeming to be genuinely regretful. Then there was the admission. For Alastor to say he valued their friendship made Vox’s heart do things he didn’t think were entirely healthy. He sat silently for several moments, staring down at the floor, then he raised his head to meet Alastor’s eyes.

“Okay. I… I don’t know what to say. I mean, seven years is a long time. I waited for you, you know that? After you left, I watched and I waited. I didn’t know what else to do besides work. Nothing meant anything anymore, the Vees were nothing, I cancelled my contracts, I stopped going to Overlord meetings because all I could do was stare at your empty chair.” He took a ragged breath but couldn’t stop now.

“You were my one constant, since the day I got here, and then you were just… gone, and I didn’t know what to do. So I waited. I worked, and I waited, and of all my years of afterlife, these were the longest. And then you come back and you don’t even tell me?! I thought you were dead! I’d finally given up! It only took seven years but I did! I was ready to put an angelic bullet through my head because I just couldn’t take it anymore!” He realised he’d stood up and begun pacing, hands gesturing wildly. “I was only here to ask them to take care of Vark when I find out that not only are you alive but you’re in the same damn building so I have a fucking breakdown, and it’s all just.. too much all at once.” He sat down on the bed again, looking down at his shaking hands. “Seven years, Alastor.” His voice broke on Alastor’s name, and he looked up to try to gauge his reaction. To his shock it wasn’t hard to do. Alastor wasn’t smiling. He looked concerned. Upset.

“You were going to… because of me?” He said, and the guilt in his voice surprised Vox. He nodded and Alastor looked slightly horrified. As if he hadn’t considered that possibility. Vox watched as Alastor stood and slowly moved to sit beside him on the bed.

“I’m very glad you didn’t. I want you to know that I… I care for you Vox, I truly mean it, and I apologise for all the pain I caused you.” Alastor took one of Vox’s hands and intertwined their fingers, a rare show of physical contact. Vox took a deep breath.

“Fuck, Alastor I… I care about you too. Probably too much. When you left I… fuck. I’m so glad you’re back.” He turned and wrapped his arms around Alastor. Alastor tensed and he quickly let go, but Alastor took hold of his hand again, static dancing over their fingers.

“I can’t give you back these past seven years. As much as I wish I could. But could we… start again? Go back to the way we were before?” Alastor said quietly, and Vox’s heart seemed to stutter for a moment. He gently removed his hand from Alastor’s.

“I’m still angry at you, and I haven’t forgiven you yet, but yeah. We can. Friends?” Vox held out a hand, well aware of how childish it seemed, but as Alastor shook his hand he felt as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders.

“Friends.” Alastor repeated, and Vox smiled. However, he couldn’t ignore the fact that not everything said that night seven years ago had been addressed.

He couldn’t help but notice that Alastor never mentioned love.

There was a knock at the door and they dropped the handshake as Charlie’s voice called out.

“Vox, are you awake? We’re about to serve breakfast if you’d like to join us!”

Vox turned to Alastor, who was smiling again, impossible to read mask firmly back in place. He gestured at the door.

“Is she always this friendly? She just met me yesterday.”

Alastor laughed softly.

“Yes.” Then he vanished into the shadows, leaving Vox to deal with the princess on his own.

After opening the door to once more be met with a smiling face, he followed Charlie downstairs where the other residents were gathered in the lobby, split between the bar and the sitting area. He responded to Husk’s nod of acknowledgment with one of his own, taking a seat at the bar only to be immediately knocked off the stool by the force of Vark crashing into him. The whole room was silent for a moment before he started laughing, pushing away the shark who was trying desperately to lick every inch of his screen. He heard some sighs of relief as he stood up, looking over to see Charlie and Vaggie watching him closely. He glanced away, unused to being scrutinised so closely, then frowned. He used to be on television daily, watched by thousands around the city, now he’s turning away from two people looking at him? Had seven years of isolation affected him that much?

He was brought back to reality by Charlie clapping to catch everyone’s attention.

“Alright guys, if everyone is done with breakfast we’re going to do some exercises to get to know each other better, so gather around!”

Oh. Personal sharing? Not exactly his strong suit. Vox had spent most of his time in Hell barricading himself either physically or emotionally, putting on the mask of a showman for years as he built his technology empire, and when that failed he locked himself away in his tower and isolated himself from everyone he knew. Not his best moment. The last time he was vulnerable and honest… he’d lost his best friend and was depressed for seven years. So he wasn’t exactly eager to put himself out there again.

Still, he went and perched on the edge of the couch in the sitting area, Vark curled up at his feet, and gave Charlie a small smile when she beamed at him. The rest of the hotel residents (he realised now that Angel Dust was the only other real resident, as Vaggie, Husk, and Niffty were technically staff) slowly followed, eventually filling the rest of the seats. Charlie clapped again, glancing at Vaggie for support before facing the group.

“So, we’re going to take turns asking each other questions, and I want everyone to try to answer honestly, but if it’s too personal you can pass the question to someone else, everyone understand? Okay, I’ll start! Vaggie!” Charlie turned to her partner sitting next to her, who jumped slightly. “What’s your favourite colour?”

Vaggie blushed.

“It’s red.” Then she mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘just like your eyes’ and Charlie hugged her tightly before turning back to the group.

“See? Honesty brings people together! Okay Vaggie, now you ask someone a question.”

Vaggie hesitated, glancing around the group, clearly trying to figure out who would be the least in inappropriate.

“Husk. What’s your favourite food?”

“Alcohol”

“Of fucking course it is.”

“Okay! That was good!” Charlie interrupted loudly, cutting off Vaggie’s muttered cursing. “Your turn Husk!”

“Ah fuck it. Niffty, how’s the bug fighting going?”

Niffty seemed to vibrate with excitement. Vox was slightly concerned.

“When I kill them, they just make more. But once I find the nest, they won’t stand a chance!” She giggled maniacally, then turned to Charlie. “Is it my turn now?”

Charlie nodded and Niffty immediately rounded on Angel Dust.

“Can you make webs?” She asked loudly. Angel Dust looked mildly affronted.

“Hell no! The only sticky stuff coming out of me is-“

“And that’s enough!” Charlie cut him off. “Angel, it’s your turn to ask someone a question now. Please try to keep it appropriate.” Charlie smiled. Vaggie stared Angel Dust down from beside her.

Angel looked over each person before his gaze settled on Vox, who internally cringed, dreading whatever inevitably sexual thing he was about to be asked. Despite working with Valentino for a while, he never quite got the appeal of the moth’s ‘entertainment’ and after Val started coming onto him to try to get more funding… he was quick to cut the moth loose. All that is to say he’d never really been a fan of sex, not when he was alive and certainly not now he was in Hell and arguably more machine than not. So he wasn’t looking forward to being questioned about-

“Why’d you really come here? Nobody’s seen ya in years, then you show up here? What’s the deal?”

Vox stiffened. In hindsight maybe questions about sex wouldn’t be so bad. He glanced at Vark who was curled up half asleep on the floor in front of him. Charlie waved her hands frantically.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to!” She said, and Vox shook his head.

“It’s fine. I came to ask Charlie if the hotel would be able to look after Vark.”

“Why? You get bored with him too?” Angel Dust mocked and Vox stared at him.

“No, I just wanted to make sure he would be alright because I wasn’t going to be able to take care of him anymore.” His tone was cold, hoping Angel Dust would drop the subject. He didn’t.

“What, too busy to even take care of your pet?”

“Yeah, I figured it would be hard to remember to change the water filter with an angelic bullet lodged in my brain.”

Angel Dust stared at him. Everyone was staring at him. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the idea that he’d purposefully neglect Vark rubbed him the wrong way. Time to do damage control.

“Charlie convinced me to stay here instead.” He said quietly. “I’ve changed my mind about the whole… thing.” He glanced around, seeing Angel’s shocked expression, Husk and Charlie’s sad ones, and Vaggie glaring daggers at Angel. He didn’t see Alastor standing in the doorway behind him, smile tight and eyes narrowed. Vox stood abruptly.

“I need a minute, I’ll be in my room.”
With that he tapped into the electricity of the small TV in the corner and vanished with a spark.

Alastor was seething. Logically he knew Angel Dust had no way of knowing Vox’s reason for coming here, but that didn’t stop him being angry at the spider’s incessant questioning of his friend. He was somewhat placated by the sight of Vaggie berating the spider in question while Charlie fretted beside her. Everyone seemed a little shaken. He was a little shaken himself, though he’d never reveal that. Hearing Vox actually tell everyone what he had planned on doing was confronting, more than he expected. This was Hell after all, besides Charlie they were all dead, but once you were in Hell it was assumed you’d stay there. Death was usually impermanent here, and exterminations were seen as something to be avoided, certainly not added to. Suicide was extremely uncommon, especially for a powerful demon such as Vox.

The lights flickered and Vaggie paused her shouting. Alastor stepped out of the doorway, shadow curling around his feet.

“I believe someone should check on him. Does that duty fall to me? I am the hotelier after all.” He said, smile tightening when Charlie shook her head. Ah, that’s right. She didn’t know they’d spoken and likely thought he would upset Vox further. If it were anyone else, she would have been correct.

“No!” She said, a little too quickly. “I’ll go. You stay here and… watch Vark! I’m sure Vox would appreciate that.” Then she fled from the room and he heard her running up the main staircase. He decided that if he had to stay in the sitting area and watch the shark then he was at least going to make himself a drink, so he set out for the kitchen.

Coffee mug in hand, he made himself comfortable on the balcony outside the sitting area, and once everyone else had left Vark came over and flopped down at his feet. He ran a hand absentmindedly over the shark’s head, marvelling at the unusual texture, almost velvety, smooth one way and rough the other. Fascinating. He’d never seen a shark when he was alive. He remembered that when Vox had found that out he’d immediately dragged him to an aquarium.

*****

“It’s better on earth, I promise.” Vox pouted, staring up at the large tanks. Alastor was in awe. Watching the aquatic creatures swim peacefully around in front of him, he couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it. It was beautiful, he could see why Vox liked it so much.

“I understand why you wanted to bring me here my friend, it is truly something.”

Vox beamed, his screen brightening at his words. A few larger fish came closer, attracted by the bright light. They dispersed as a large shark creature swam lazily past them, its powerful tail effortlessly propelling it through the water. It reminded Alastor a little of Vox, always moving forward, always looking for the next opportunity.

(It reminded Vox of Alastor, effortlessly powerful, teeth always bared in a beautifully threatening smile.)

“Thank you for showing me this.”

Vox blushed, his screen fuzzing with static.

“It’s nothing, really. Just making up for the fact that you’d never seen one before… Thank you for trusting me.” He smiled at Alastor, and the older overlord felt that now familiar feeling in his chest, the feeling that meant that his ever-present smile was currently genuine.

He took Vox’s hand and pulled him in, leading him in the beginnings of a dance he learned a long time ago. Vox was visibly surprised but went along with it, settling into the rhythm and eventually matching Alastor’s smile as they danced together, lit by the soft blue light of the water.

*****

Alastor was pulled from the memory by shouting, accompanied by loud mechanical sounds as he looked up to see a large airship piloted by a vaguely familiar serpent sinner. He slipped through the shadows and emerged at the front patio, just as Charlie burst through the front doors, followed by Angel Dust and Vox.

The serpent is still shouting something he doesn’t care enough to listen to when he sends tentacles up to attack the ship. The snake sinner screamed and Alastor laughed. This was truly ridiculous, and his laughter only increased when the snake fell to the ground in front of him. Pathetic.

“Alastor, I think he’s had enough.” Charlie’s voice sounded from behind him. He stopped laughing and hummed thoughtfully.

“Alright. Thank you for another forgettable experience!”

The snake muttered something before scrambling forward and ripping a scrap off his coat.

How DARE he.

Alastor dealt with him swiftly. He was about to dispose of the airship when electricity crackled around it and the lights flickered out. The ship crashed to the ground and the electricity arched through the air and back to Vox, who grinned even as he held a hand to his head.

“Haven’t done that in a while, forgot about the head rush.” He said in response to Charlie’s concerned look. Alastor was quietly impressed with his friend’s ability. To be able to absorb the energy from any device was useful, weakening your enemy while strengthening yourself. He turned to face the others.

“It seems I require a visit to the tailor!” He said, and Charlie gestured excitedly.

“Vox will go with you! He has an errand to run too!” Beside her, Vox grimaced and made a ‘stop’ gesture that she blatantly ignored. Clearly they’d spoken about something when she went to check on him, something Vox didn’t want people knowing about. Interesting. Perhaps sensing that Charlie wasn’t going to drop it, Vox sighed and nodded.

“Alright. Alastor, do you mind if I tag along?”

“Of course not! The more the merrier!” He said, before holding out his arm for Vox to take, much to Charlie and Angel Dust’s surprise. He grinned wider at their shocked expressions as Vox took his arm with an exasperated look. As they walked through the city streets, Vox leaned in slightly.

“I’ve missed this, you know? Just… being around you. Also, what did you say to Charlie? When I told her we’d talked she gave me this weird look.” He said, raising an eyebrow. Alastor hummed, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

“Ah, yes, that. I told her about the night I left. What I said to you. She wasn’t very happy with me.”

Vox stopped walking and Alastor turned around to see the dejected look on his face. He tilted his head.

“Should I not have? I wasn’t aware it was a secret.”

Vox looked pained for a moment before he shook his head, an almost defeated expression on his screen.

“No, I suppose it isn’t. So she knows what happened, that’s… fine.” He glanced away then looked back, a smile appearing that Alastor could see through as though it were glass. Vox stepped up beside him but didn’t take his arm again.

“So, your usual tailor is still open, shall we head there first?” He said brightly, and Alastor decided not to push the issue. They continued walking and the silence gradually settled back into comfort, Alastor’s smile becoming genuine when Vox slipped his arm back through his.

The tailor seemed surprised to see him, but arguably more surprised to see Vox with him, to Alastor’s amusement. As the tailor retreated to the back room with his coat, he turned to Vox, who blushed.

“So I’ve been a little reclusive since you left, fuck off.” Though Vox was clearly embarrassed, there was humour in his tone that told Alastor he wasn’t truly angry. They waited briefly until the tailor returned with Alastor’s coat, now restored to its proper condition. Vox paid, and left a generous tip, something that didn’t escape Alastor’s notice, and when they stepped outside Vox seemed to hesitate. Alastor paused beside him.

“I recall Charlie mentioned you having your own errand to run, where are we headed now?” He said cheerfully, eyeing Vox as he shifted hesitantly before sighing.

“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly prepared when I ended up at the hotel, so there’s some things I left in the tower I’d like to go get. You don’t have to come.”

“Nonsense, my friend! In fact, why waste time walking all the way there?”

Vox looked up sharply as Alastor smiled wider and a shadowy portal opened beneath them, dropping them both into the darkness. Alastor stepped calmly out into Vox’s apartment and Vox stumbled out beside him, already cursing.

“-the fuck Alastor! You know I hate the shadow portals! Fuck, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Alastor wasn’t listening. There was music playing. Familiar music. Not from a speaker either, he felt the warm humming undertone that only came from a radio. He turned and there it was, sitting innocently on the counter shining under the fluorescent lights. He inhaled sharply. He knew that radio.

He’d made that radio.

Not with magic either, he hadn’t summoned it casually from somewhere else. No, he had sat for days and painstakingly and carefully carved every detail himself, wired and programmed it by hand. He’d gifted that radio to Vox almost seventy years ago. It still shone like new.

“You kept it.” He said softly, emotion welling in his chest. Vox, recovered from the sudden portal travel, walked over to the radio and gently turned it down.

“Of course I did. It was a gift from you.” His screen flickered with static as he glanced away from Alastor, who was still frozen. He realised just how wrong he had been, how foolishly mistaken he was that night. Vox really did love him.

“Vox, I-“ He started, but Vox interrupted.

“Don’t. Please.” Vox looked pained and Alastor’s ears flicked in response to his friend’s distress. “I don’t… Alastor the last two days have been so confusing, and I don’t know how much more I can take right now. So please, just… don’t.” He glanced at the radio.

“I kept it because it was all I had left of you. I thought that as long as I had it then maybe there was a chance you would come back. Stupid, I know. Just let me grab my shit then we’ll go.”

Vox carefully picked up the radio, turning it off before gently packing it into a velvet-lined box that Alastor had not made, meaning Vox had purchased it himself for the radio. Alastor felt that now familiar twist in his chest again, warmth blooming at the sight of the care Vox took with his gift. He watched as Vox strode purposefully around the apartment gathering other things and packing them into an oddly normal looking suitcase. Well, he supposed not everyone could use pocket dimensions like he did.

Alastor waited patiently until Vox had finished packing his things, the suitcase sitting by the door ready to go, but when he looked around he saw no sign of Vox himself. Treading lightly through the quiet apartment, he found Vox in what he assumed was his bedroom, sitting on the bed and staring at something sitting in his lap. A small door in the wall was sitting ajar, revealing an empty compartment. Alastor slowly rounded the bed and sat down next to Vox, eyes widening as he glanced down at his friend’s hands. In one hand he was holding a simple white gun, and in the other palm sat a single deceptively innocent white steel bullet. Angelic steel.

“I had it all figured out.” Vox said quietly. “I’d made up my mind. I just needed someone to look after Vark. I knew what I was going to do. The funny thing is, it wouldn’t have even been the first time.” He laughed humourlessly, still staring at the bullet. Alastor’s chest ached.

“I didn’t know that. What happened?”

Vox shook his head slightly, looking up seemingly at nothing.

“I loved my job, I was good at my job, really good, but… when you have a seizure live on air in front of millions of people, companies aren’t exactly jumping to employ you anymore. They sent me home with barely a word, after everything I did to get that job. I lost everything, so I figured fuck it all. Took the studio executive with me, live on air, and I guess that was enough to land me here. Where guess what? I wake up and I still have the same fucking health issues I had before, and I got to lose everything all over again.” Vox let the gun and bullet fall into his lap as he buried his face in his hands. Alastor realised he was crying when the first tears dripped through his fingers, and he placed a tentative hand on Vox’s shoulder. Vox shook his head.

“Why do I keep fucking up? Every time I think I finally got something good I manage to fuck it up.”

“You’re mistaken my friend.” He said softly. “I was the one that, as you say, fucked up. I was wrong, so wrong, and for that I am so sorry. Also, you haven’t lost everything. You have an open invitation from the princess of Hell, a pet that adores you, and… me. You have me, and I’m not going anywhere this time. Let’s get back to the hotel.”

Vox paused, then picked up the gun and the bullet again. Alastor watched closely as he crushed the gun in his claws, dropping the crumpled casing on the floor before taking the bullet and closing both hands around it. Vox’s hands began to spark with electricity, building a charge that Alastor was sure would vaporise any other material. He made sure to keep his distance. When Vox opened his hands the bullet was charred and blackened, small pieces flaking off. It no longer gave off the power of angelic steel.

“Fascinating! How did you do that?” He asked, glancing between Vox and the ruined bullet as his eyes widened. Vox shrugged.

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve never tried anything like that before.” There was amazement in his tone, and Alastor was once again surprised and impressed by his friend’s strength, angelic steel was no easy feat to destroy. He stood from the bed and held out a hand for Vox to take, and when Vox took it he smiled. Genuinely.

They retrieved Vox’s suitcase, filled with things for both himself and Vark, though Alastor suspected it was mostly Vark, and Alastor opened a portal, upright this time.

“Ready my friend?”

Vox steeled himself, one hand holding his suitcase and the other still entwined with Alastor’s.

“For the record, I still fucking hate portal travelling, but yes.”

They walked through the shadow and emerged in the hotel lobby. Alastor glanced around but was met with the sight of an empty room, it seemed they’d been gone longer than anticipated and the other hotel residents had turned in for the night. He surveyed his companion. Vox looked a little pale but otherwise none the worse for wear after the shadow portal. He walked Vox to his room, because he was a gentleman after all, and after bidding him goodnight he retreated to his own quarters to process what he’d learned in the last few hours.

It was only the next morning that he realised Vox was able to destroy angelic steel despite not owning any souls at all.

Vox was rather rudely awoken in the middle of the night by muffled shouting coming from down the hall. He was going to manually override his sound sensors and go back to sleep when he heard… singing? Fuck, he was intrigued. Leaving Vark asleep on his bed, he crept out into the hall.

He’d never admit it, but the hotel was a little creepy at night, yet at the same time, all the decor reminded him of Alastor, who he was beginning to associate with feeling safe. It was all very confusing. Hearing the princess’s singing float through the dark hallways was definitely a little creepy though, and he debated with himself about going back to bed, but ultimately his curiosity won out. Following the sound of the singing, he came to a doorway and peered around the corner, and was met with the sight of Charlie, singing and dancing with… the snake sinner who attacked the hotel that morning? What the actual fuck was going on. He also spotted Angel Dust and Vaggie, both with weapons drawn, standing at the side of the room looking murderous. He crept over to them and whispered to Vaggie.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Slithery fucker came back to try to spy on you and Alastor but he failed so badly it was almost funny. Then she started singing.” Vaggie replied, her annoyed tone fading to fondness when she mentioned Charlie. Vox nodded, still confused. The princess and the snake stopped singing and Charlie spotted Vox standing with the others. She turned to the snake sinner excitedly.

“Sir Pentious! Now’s your first opportunity! You can apologise to Vox for trying to spy on him!” She said, and Vox blinked. Huh? He wasn’t awake enough for this, his battery was not fully charged, (literally, he kept ignoring the notifications that were yelling at him to go back to sleep) and his processing speed was almost down to that of a normal sinner. So when the snake, Sir Pentious, slithered up to him, it was all he could do to not retreat immediately.

“Mr Vox sir,” Pentious began, and Vox cringed inwardly. “I ssssincerely apologise for attempting to spy on you. I am ssssorry.” He finished and god this was awkward. Vox patted him on the arm and put on his best attempt at a genuine smile. It wasn’t great.

“Uh, no hard feelings. Just don’t do it again?” He glanced at Vaggie for support but she just shrugged. He looked back at Pentious and his eyes widened as he realised the snake was crying, his eyes shining with tears. Vox panicked.

“Um, fuck, it’s alright, I mean, I wasn’t even here so you didn’t even really spy on me. Uh, there there?” He rambled, his processors desperately trying to determine the best thing to say in this weird as fuck situation. Pentious just sniffed loudly and looked at Vox seriously.

“Thank you for being so underssstanding! I will never spy again!”

Vox just nodded, dumbfounded, until his attention was brought to Niffty standing in the doorway as she huffed loudly.

“That was awful! You are so not a bad boy.” Then she stomped on the end of Pentious’s tail and stormed out. Charlie muffled a laugh in her hand, then smiled brightly.

“See Sir Pentious? Saying sorry is the first step to redemption! However, now I think we should all go back to bed.” She walked over and wrapped an arm around Vaggie’s waist, leading her girlfriend out of the room and back to their shared bedroom. Sir Pentious slithered down the hallway in the opposite direction, leaving Angel Dust and Vox to awkwardly say goodnight before also retreating to their own rooms.

Chapter Text

When morning did properly arrive, Vox was slow to wake, his systems booting up gradually as each process began running. By the time his brain was fully online it was mid morning and the sounds of people bustling around downstairs had begun to filter through his audio sensors. The scene that greeted him when he made his way downstairs was a novel one, and the thought occurred to him that his life had become a lot more interesting since he arrived at the hotel. Vark trailed after him, before spotting Angel Dust’s pet pig and running off to play.

He took a seat at the bar, shaking his head at Husk when the feline offered him a drink, and watched with vague interest as Vaggie admonished Sir Pentious for buying weapons and letting his minions run wild around the hotel. Despite all the crazy that was the hotel he found himself feeling restless. He realised he hadn’t worked for almost three days, the longest break he’d taken in almost seven years. It was strange.

His data streams were still communicating, and the statistics were as honest as ever. Easy. His technology sales were going well, his profits had increased since he last checked. Televisions, phones, electricity, even 666 News managed to turn a profit, though maybe he had the princess to thank for that. The electricity grid was always an interesting one, and something that required a significant portion of his power to keep running, but it was also the most lucrative. Everyone liked electricity, lights, heating, wi-fi. All of the Pride Ring relied on his grid, and he benefitted from every use, even if it was draining at times.

Satisfied, he went further, checking on his network of cameras positioned around the city, mostly in the centre and dispersing out through the smaller districts and remote neighbourhoods. He’d had to do something serious bargaining with some overlords to get them to agree to his surveillance, but he always was persuasive, and in the end it had served many of them well to be able to access recordings of every action committed in their territory by just asking him for the footage. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular so he spent some time watching the people of Cannibal Town, though not too closely, the cannibalism itself had always made him feel a little nauseous. Vox was fine to just watch people walk around before he was yanked back to his physical body by a sharp shake of his shoulder.

“Hey, you back with me now? Where’d you go kid?” Husk’s gruff voice was almost worried as he removed his hand from Vox’s shoulder. Vox stuttered as his systems readjusted to his surroundings.

“Oh, just checking on some things. It’s nothing to be concerned about.” Not fully true, he would occasionally get too deep into the data streams and struggle to get out, but Husk didn’t need to know that. Husk didn’t seem fully convinced, but he just hummed and went back to doing whatever it was that he did behind the bar. A moment later Vox felt the change in the air as Alastor’s electrostatic energy entered the room a moment before the demon himself did, trailed by several of the eggs that Vox had seen hanging around Sir Pentious. He stood from the bar, waving to Alastor as he crossed the room.

“What’s with the eggs?”

Alastor’s ear twitched.

“Oh, that. Vagatha has requested that I get rid of them, humanely, so I figured I’d take them with me on my outing today. Care to join us?” Alastor’s tone was as friendly as it could get, and Vox smiled.

“Sure, I was getting a little stir crazy anyway. Where are we going?”

“Oh just out for a walk. Although…” Alastor snapped his fingers and Vox’s casual attire was replaced with something nicer, surprisingly similar to something he would have picked for himself. He raised an eyebrow at Alastor, who grinned wider.

“You never know who you might run into when out on the town!”

Vox hoped he wouldn’t regret asking to tag along.

Walking around town with Alastor would always be pleasant, but the eggs’ infinite questions did put a bit of an annoying spin on what would have otherwise been a good time. Vox didn’t used to consider himself a very patient person, always quick to jump from one thing to another, but after waiting seven years for Alastor… his patience had definitely grown. That didn’t mean the eggs weren’t testing him. He could feel Alastor’s irritation growing, the crackle of radio waves becoming more pronounced. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Alastor snapped.

“If you don’t stop speaking, I will make omelettes of you!” Alastor’s tone was deceptively friendly, but Vox could hear the threatening intent in more than the words. When Alastor turned back to him, the eggs were silent behind them. Vox smiled at Alastor and caught sight of a curious gleam in his eye. That never ended well.

“So my friend, are we going to acknowledge what happened yesterday?” Alastor said, in a tone that for the radio demon was definitely gentle. “There were several… discoveries made.”

Vox sighed. “I suppose so. It’s not every day you tell someone how you died. I’d never told anyone before. I mean, fuck, it’s not exactly good conversation, is it?” He paused, memory playing back until he turned it off. “And about the angelic steel, I genuinely didn’t know I could do that. I’d never even tried before.”

“I was impressed.”

Vox stared at him. Alastor? Impressed? If he hadn’t heard it himself he wouldn’t have believed it. He grinned, only for it to drop when Alastor spoke again.

“You also mentioned you experience seizures?” Alastor said, the question of ‘do you still?’ going unsaid.

“Oh, yeah. Have since I was a kid, it got better for a while as I grew up, but then once I was working I guess the stress made them worse again. I could usually tell beforehand but that one caught me off guard, and well… can’t have someone unpredictable in front of a camera. Just my fucking luck that not even death got rid of them.”

Alastor seemed to take a moment to process what he said. “I’ve never seen you have a seizure.” He said after a minute, head tilted in consideration. Vox laughed dryly.

“Yeah you have. The glitches? The small ones are normal, just a byproduct of being mechanical, but the larger ones, where I black out? That’s what that is. I’ve learned more about it since I’ve been here. People have come down with more medical knowledge than when I was alive. Seizures are caused by issues with electricity in the brain. The irony that I can control all the electricity in Hell except for what’s in my own head.” Vox kicked a rock along the pavement as they walked. Alastor hummed thoughtfully.

“I’m truly sorry you have to deal with that.” He said. Vox shook his head.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it. It’s Hell, you know? Everyone’s got issues.” He managed a small smile, and Alastor smiled back, and Vox could sense the genuine feeling behind it. They walked in silence for a while, the eggs trailing not far behind.

Vox noticed when they crossed the invisible border that put them in Zestial’s territory, but Alastor continued walking without breaking stride so he figured he’d trust his friend on this one. It wasn’t long before Zestial joined them on their stroll.

“What doth bring thou two to this place on this day? Zestial said, voice low and purring, and Vox fixed a smile firmly on his face as he repressed a shudder. He felt the eggs attempt to hide behind his legs. For all that he was polite, Zestial was still one creepy fucker. Alastor almost matched him in that regard. Almost.

“Zestial!” Alastor bowed slightly and Vox followed suit. “So good to see you after all these years! We were just enjoying the lovely atmosphere around here.”

Across the street a sinner set themselves on fire.

“Many rumours hast arisen regarding thy whereabouts. Including that thou hast fallen to… holy arms.” Zestial’s long fingers gestured as he spoke, his words hissing in Vox’s audio sensors. Alastor just laughed.

“Well, that clearly isn’t the case as I am still very much alive! But isn’t it fun to keep everyone on their toes!” Alastor said, radio host persona on full display. Zestial hummed thoughtfully, then turned his attention to Vox, who fought the urge to teleport away.

“What of thou, Vox? It hath been years since I have seen thou grace a meeting with thy presence.” Zestial may not have meant it that way, but Vox still felt the dig at his lack of status. He smiled at Zestial.

“Well, I haven’t exactly been invited the last few years. I’m sure you’re well aware of Carmilla’s decision.” His smile was sharp, a contrast to his polite tone. Alastor laughed softly from beside him. Zestial looked ever so slightly hesitant, likely not expecting a direct response to his slight. They continued on their way, Vox glancing back every now and again to check the eggs were still following. After a short silence, Zestial spoke up again.

“There is to be a meeting of the overlords this afternoon. Thou art invited of course, Alastor. Good day to the both of thou.” Zestial said, before he vanished into the darkness. The ‘get off my land’ went unsaid, but the message was received. Alastor began walking in the direction of Carmilla’s district, where the overlord meetings took place. Vox kept pace beside him, but there was an element of hesitance in his stride.

“So, you’re going to the overlord meeting.”

“Of course.”

“Should I wait outside for you? Babysit the eggs?”

Alastor laughed. “What a silly idea! No, you’re coming with me!”

“What?! I can’t just walk in, I’m not an overlord anymore, as anyone would gladly tell you! Carmilla would murder me!” He hissed the last part, as if speaking her name aloud so close to her district would summon her. Alastor waited for him to stop before speaking.

“Vox, you worry too much. Carmilla will do no such thing, not after you show her your little trick with angelic steel.”

“After I -Alastor are you insane? I don’t even know if I can do that again, and even if I could, why the fuck would I show anyone?” Vox said, looking at Alastor incredulously. “It would put a huge target on my back!”

“You forget, you’re a hotel resident now. Even overlords would think twice before messing with someone under the princess’s protection. Come on, we don’t want to be late now, do we?” Alastor grinned, a slight skip in his step as he continued towards Carmilla’s district, Vox widening his stride in order to keep up with the scheming demon.

If Vox was asked how he ended up at the overlord’s meeting despite not being an overlord, an egg boi clinging to his leg and Alastor walking carefree by his side, he’d have no answer. Because he was still in a state of disbelief so strong it was all he could do to uphold his confident facade in the face of several overlords significantly more powerful than he was. Alastor strode purposefully towards his seat as if he’d never left, and Vox trailed behind, barely acknowledging anyone and hoping no one would acknowledge him. What a foolish hope that was.

Rosie walked in, and her face lit up the second she spotted him. He quickly shook his head and thankfully she got the message, quietly sitting down beside him and taking one of his hands in her own. Now sandwiched between Alastor and Rosie, Vox felt he could relax a little, because if anyone did try to attack him it would be three on one. He didn’t mind those odds, especially considering it was Alastor and Rosie. He smiled at her, and she gave his hand a small squeeze.

Carmilla walked in, and Vox forgot to breathe for a solid minute. She started her presentation before her gaze flicked over the table and settled on Alastor.

“Alastor. A pleasant surprise. Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back.” Alastor grinned wider. “Aren’t you going to ask where I’ve been? I’m sure you’ve all been wondering.”

“Hmm, not really.”

Alastor scowled at her. She then turned her attention to Vox, and were it not for Rosie’s hand still holding tight to his he would have vanished into the camera in the corner of the room as fast as he physically could.

“Vox. How… unexpected.” Her tone wasn’t as cold as he’d anticipated, but the mere fact that he was an uninvited party to a closed meeting was enough to warrant some animosity. Carmilla seemed as if she had more to say but was interrupted by the door being flung open as a latecomer joined them. Vox registered the voice and wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“Good of you to join us Velvette. Will Valentino be attending as well?” Carmilla’s irritation was more clear now, but Velvette ignored it.

“No, fuck off, he’s busy. I’m representing us both.” She flipped Carmilla off as she sat down, not looking up from her phone. Carmilla sighed and went back to her presentation, and Vox silently thanked Velvette for providing a distraction. He turned his attention to the screen behind Carmilla. The statistics were grim, and a quick look into his own data revealed they were actually a slight underestimate. The topic shifted to next extermination, coming in half the usual time. Wait, what? Since when had that happened? How did he miss that?!
From the end of the table, Velvette laughed, but Vox barely registered it. He did, however, register it when Velvette threw something into the table that bounced a couple of times before landing in front of Carmilla. An exterminator’s decapitated head, gold blood dripping from the neck.

Vox suppressed a gag.

Velvette jumped up on the table. “Anyone care to explain why I found this after the last extermination? You know what this means, these fuckers can be killed! We should fight back!”

“I think it unwise to plan such a brash move with a lack of certain proof.” Zestial’s voice cut through the murmurs that Velvette’s declaration had stirred.
“To act without thought would only bring more death upon us.”

“You want proof? There’s an angel’s head sat on the table in front of you!”

“We do not know how this angel came to die, for all we know it may have fallen to the arms of its comrades.”

Velvette was practically vibrating with a combination of rage and excitement.

“What’s the problem old man? You too afraid to fight?”

“You better show some respect!” Carmilla slammed her hands on the table. “Watch your tone Velvette, I shall not accept Zestial being spoken to that way. Did you think we would accept this brash proposal?”

Velvette laughed. “Oh I’m not the one who needs to check themselves. Don’t think I missed your reaction when I brought out the angel’s head. Anything to say?”

“The meeting is finished! Everyone out!”

Velvette shrugged.

“Fine.” Then she turned to leave, but as she did she finally caught sight of Vox.

“Oh well isn’t this interesting! You’re still alive then?” She leaned in close to him, her face inches from his screen, smiling menacingly. He responded with a shark-like grin of his own.

“Certainly seems that way.”

“You’re going to regret leaving us.” She said quietly before she pulled back. “All right, later losers!” Velvette called as she flounced out the door, followed by the other overlords. Eventually, it was only Vox and Alastor left with Carmilla and Zestial. Carmilla turned to them.

“I said to leave. One of you isn’t supposed to be here at all.” She sent Vox a pointed look, but Alastor stood quickly, his smile wide even as his gaze was calculating.

“Dear Carmilla, we simply wish to share with you something we think you’d like to know. Though, of course, we’d like to receive some information in return. Does that sound fair to you?” Alastor said, and Carmilla frowned.

“What would you do with the information I gave you.” She said, raising an eyebrow at Alastor. Her daughters had joined her, one standing either side of her, though Vox noticed she had positioned them slightly behind herself. Interesting. He stood up, polite smile in place.

“That depends entirely on what you tell us. It won’t be much, and I promise we won’t use it against you in any way.” He said, hands out placatingly. Even though Vox wasn’t entirely sure what Alastor was planning here, he didn’t want to get on Carmilla’s bad side, especially if their theory was true. She nodded, and he relaxed, smile becoming more genuine. Alastor grinned conspiratorially.

“So Carmilla, what can you tell us about the death of this exterminator.” He said, and the weapons dealer sighed.

“I did it to protect my daughters. It wasn’t planned, but I couldn’t let anything happen to them. War with heaven would only bring about more death, and I do not want to bring death to my doorstep.” The threat went unsaid, but the message was received. Vox was not about to risk painful death by angelic weapon only one day after deciding he wanted to live after all. He nodded, glancing between Carmilla and Zestial, the latter sitting at the side of the room drinking tea casually, as if life-altering information wasn’t being shared right in front of him.

“Thank you for trusting us with this information.” He said, then looked at Alastor, who nodded.

“Yes, we appreciate this information. Now, perhaps rather than telling you what we know, a demonstration would be more effective. Do you have any angelic steel close by?” Alastor looked at Carmilla expectantly. She nodded to one of her daughters, who left the room only to return with an angelic spearhead taken from an exterminator’s weapon. Up close, it looked strangely similar to Vaggie’s spear. Vox filed that information away as well.

Carmilla’s daughter held out the spearhead, and Vox took it gently, careful not to cut himself on the sharp edges. It was significantly larger than the bullet and he could feel the electromagnetic energy it gave off, a humming that radiated through his sensors, a contrast to Alastor’s lower frequency that he was also vaguely aware of. He glanced at Alastor, who gave him a thumbs up. He focused his energy, drawing power from the room until the lights dimmed slightly. He let the electricity gather in his hands, sparks dancing between his fingers and the spearhead, the cool blue light casting sharp shadows around the now dim room. He closed his fingers slightly, still mindful of the sharp edges, and channeled his electricity through the steel.

It felt unnatural, the angelic steel not a good conductor, and he had to force it through when it wanted to flow around. He found electricity rather like water sometimes, always looking for the path of least resistance, preferring to find an indirect path rather than plowing through an obstacle. But when pushed it would follow his command, and as it ripped through the angelic steel he could feel it begin to decay, the corrosion beginning to flake at the edges and strip the power from the centre. He continued pushing the charge until there were black spots in his vision and he felt his head spin. Then he pulled back, and when he opened his hands the spearhead was almost unrecognisable, the previously shining steel now charred and flaking, some sections completely burned away and the entire thing blackened. It no longer gave off any energy. No one spoke for several moments.

“There you go!” Alastor said brightly, and Vox tried not to wince at his volume. He had a headache. Alastor continued.
“We recently discovered that Vox here can destroy angelic steel and render it absolutely useless! Fascinating isn’t it?”

“I admit this is… unexpected. I appreciate you showing me this privately. May I see the angelic steel?” Carmilla said, and Vox carefully handed it over. She turned it in her hands, rubbing the corroded flakes between two fingers. Another part of the spearhead crumbled in her palm, the level of destruction almost comical. She hummed.

“It was angelic steel that killed the angel. To have the power to destroy the only material that can kill both angels and demons…” She looked at Vox thoughtfully, and he resisted the urge to hide as she studied him. He felt as though he was under a microscope, every detail on display. Alastor stepped forward, grin sharp.

“Well Carmilla, we’ll be going now, always a pleasure to see you.” He said, before taking Vox’s arm and leading him out, ignoring the sound of Carmilla and Zestial analysing the corroded steel. Vox gestured for the egg boi to follow them, and once they were outside with the rest of the eggs he allowed himself to panic a little.

“Holy fuck. Alastor, what the fuck just happened? Pinch me or something so I know I’m not dreaming.”

Alastor whacked him with his microphone.

“Ow! You prick! I said pinch -oh never mind. So Carmilla really killed an angel. Angels can be killed, with angelic steel.”

“How ironic.”

“And I can apparently destroy angelic steel. Why the fuck I can do that?” He looked at Alastor, who for once looked as though he wasn’t sure. Vox sighed.

“Can we go back to the hotel now?”

“Of course. It has been a long day.”

This time when they arrived back at the hotel it wasn’t to silence. Everyone is sitting around the lobby, talking and laughing. Vark spots him and immediately runs over to greet them, followed closely by Charlie. Vark paws at Vox until he’s rewarded with scratches, while Charlie smiles brightly at them.

“We did trust exercises! It was so good for everyone, we made some serious progress. Did you two have a good time on your outing today?” Charlie asked, and her eyes practically sparkled when they nodded. Vaggie wandered over.

“You can give Pentious his eggs back, we decided he can keep them.” She said, and the eggs immediately ran back to the snake sinner, who began crying as he hugged them. Alastor shrugged.

“A shame, they were almost entertaining.” He said sarcastically, and Vox stifled a laugh. They were annoying, that’s what. He bent down to give Vark belly rubs, the shark pup eagerly flipping over to expose his underside for more attention. Between running his hands down the smooth length of Vark’s body, Vox felt eyes on him, and looked up to see Pentious looking at him, tears still in his eyes. Vox gave him a slightly awkward nod, which the snake returned with a smile.

Chapter Text

Vox found himself getting used to living at the hotel over the next few weeks. After the chaos of the first few days he settled into a strange kind of routine, one that he found himself enjoying. The other residents were growing on him, Husk in particular, the feline sinner understanding the feeling of being a former overlord, and despite Vox having been in Hell longer, he discovered that Husk was actually older than he was, having been born about 30 years before. Niffty on the other hand, despite also being one of Alastor’s thralls, still unsettled him, especially since he woke up one morning to the sight of her standing over him muttering to herself and holding a screwdriver.

He’d changed the locks within the hour.

Sir Pentious had quickly abandoned any nefarious plans and had wholeheartedly thrown himself into Charlie’s redemption effort, and Vox had to admit he was making progress. The eggs were still annoying, but it was becoming more endearing the more he got used to it. Charlie was thrilled, and Vox had to admire her enthusiasm, she really was passionate about the hotel. Vaggie shared that enthusiasm, she was just quieter in her expression of it. Vox liked Vaggie. She was blunt and honest, and after spending his whole life surrounded by people who twisted their words to get what they wanted, it was a nice change. He was beginning to like Charlie too, despite her overly excited nature and endless optimism. It was rare to find someone so genuine in Hell, and the fact that he kind of owed her his life was also a contributing factor.

He’d also found himself spending more time with Vark than he had before, to the point where he realised he’d gotten what he came to the hotel for in the first place: someone to look after his shark pup. It just turned out that person was him.

Alastor was… Alastor. For all the years Vox had known the radio demon he still refused to be easily understood. But they were getting closer to being friends again, and just that made everything else worth it. They spent most afternoons together, either in Vox’s room or Alastor’s broadcasting tower, just talking for hours. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so much, or felt so at ease. They picked up right where they left off, and it was easy. Occasionally Vox felt anger spark at the thought that they could have been like this the whole time, could have spent the last seven years talking and laughing, rather than sitting in his tower hating himself. Then Alastor would make a joke, and he would laugh, and that anger faded.

Almost as if the last seven years never happened. Almost.

The one person he couldn’t quite get a read on was Angel Dust. The spider wasn’t rude to him, but there was a distinct lack of friendliness that he’d picked up on. Vark wasn’t keen on the spider either, eyeing him every time he was in the same room as Vox, which wasn’t often. Vox figured it was possibly leftover from the fact that he used to work with Valentino, or from his refusal of Angel Dust’s soul contract. He’d never directly interacted with the spider sinner prior to the hotel, and even when he worked with Val he’d kept his distance, not getting involved with any of the moth’s studios. It bothered him, and he didn’t quite know why. What did he care if Angel Dust didn’t like him? It didn’t matter.

It did matter. Angel Dust was the first real resident of the hotel, and if he was going to stay here, and he supposed he was, since the idea of going back to his tower and being alone again made him want to stop existing, then he wanted to be on the spider’s good side. Which apparently included watching bad quality porn as a part of ‘show and tell’.

He cringed at the unrealistic acting and emotionless writing, was there even a coherent plot? The set design was tacky and the props were low quality, if this was all Valentino was capable of producing then he definitely didn’t regret ending that alliance. Yikes. But Angel seemed proud of it, so he plastered a smile on his screen and didn’t voice his criticisms, even as he subtly covered Vark’s eyes. Husk however, was quite vocal with his. Vox tuned out the argument, then shorted out the TV when Charlie began looking uncomfortable. Vaggie shot him a grateful look and he nodded silently. Husk and Angel Dust were shouting, but the fight trailed off when Angel’s phone rang and Vox heard a voice he hadn’t heard in six years.

Valentino. Vox frowned. He had not ended his business deal with Val on a happy note. The moth had burned through the allocated budget and was demanding more, more screen time, more money, and he had attempted to convince Vox to give it to him. By pinning him against the wall and shoving his pheromone coated tongue through his screen. One electrocuted antenna later and their alliance was well and truly over. Valentino had tried to come crawling back, offering Angel Dust’s soul as a sort of bribe, but Vox had refused. When Valentino had tried once again to force his pheromones down Vox’s throat he’d electrocuted much more than an antenna.

Apparently Valentino’s vision never recovered.

Vox wondered what kind of operation Val was running these days. If what he just witnessed was any indication then he could take a guess as to how short Val’s temper would be. The moth was definitely fond of wealth, it was what had drawn him to Vox in the first place. Vox winced as he heard Valentino’s voice turn angry over the phone and saw Angel Dust wilt in response. Angel left shortly after, despite Charlie’s attempts to stop him. Husk retreated to the bar, grumbling.

He got up and approached Charlie where she was sitting leaning against the front doors of the hotel, Vaggie attempting to encourage her.

“You know I love that you don’t abuse your power as princess of Hell, but maybe you could be a little more aggressive?”

“But that’s so mean!” Charlie whined. Vaggie changed tactics.

“You could be kindly aggressive!”

“Vaggie you’re a genius! I am going to go and talk to Angel’s boss, and aggressively kindly ask if Angel can have more time off for the hotel!” She hugged her girlfriend tightly, then almost ran into Vox on her way out the door.

“Oh my gosh! I didn’t see you there! Is something-“

“You shouldn’t go anywhere near Valentino.”

Charlie tilted her head curiously. “Wait why not? You used to work with him right? Do you have any advice?”

“Yeah.” Vox said dryly. “Don’t go anywhere near him. He’s a creep. He’ll probably try to persuade you to work for him.”

Charlie waved her hand flippantly.

“Then I will politely decline. I’m the princess of Hell, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry!” She called as she practically skipped out the door. Vox watched her go, his concern growing. He turned to Vaggie, who didn’t seem worried.

“You’re just letting her go?”

She shrugged. “Like she said, she’s the princess of Hell. Nothing’s going to happen to her. I trust her judgement.” With that she turned and walked away, yelling at Sir Pentious to get his egg bois to stop swinging from the chandelier. Vox teleported up to his room, now containing several monitors. He cursed his lack of cameras inside Val’s main studio, and sent a drone to watch the outside. He hated being in the dark, not being able to know what was going on.  Vark gently nosed the door open and entered the room, closing the door with his tail. He had a knack for locating Vox no matter where he jumped to, and could sense his stress.

Vox smiled slightly at his shark before returning his full attention to the monitors. He briefly considered asking Alastor if he could borrow his shadow, but he dismissed that thought when he spotted Charlie entering the studio. He waited, and god how he hated waiting, watching for any sign of trouble, and when he saw Charlie leave with no sign of Angel, he figured she had failed in her goal of getting him more time off. But at least she was out. That thought alone was enough for him to relax slightly.

He met Charlie at the door when she arrived back to the hotel, subtly scanning her for injuries. Thankfully he found none, but then tears started running down her face. He hovered anxiously, unsure of what to do, until he processed what she was saying.

“Vox it was awful! Valentino won’t let Angel take any time off, and he hit him when he tried to reason with him. Angel looked so scared and angry and he made me leave!”

“He what?”

She sniffed and the tears stopped, the temperature rising as she got angry. Vox felt his fans pick up as the room grew hot. Charlie began ranting.

“He licked me with his gross tongue and he yelled at Angel because of something I did, what gives him the right!” Horns had started to protrude from her forehead and Vox took a step back. Charlie noticed and quickly returned to her regular form. She sighed.

“I just wanted to help. But I think I made it worse.”

Vaggie had noticed the commotion and had come running, and had put her arm around Charlie’s shoulders to comfort her. She gently lead Charlie away, leaving Vox at the doorstep. He glanced between Charlie and the door before making his decision and teleporting away.

In a few seconds he was standing outside Val’s studio. Before he had the chance to talk himself out of it he pushed the door open and strode inside. The whole place smelled strongly of smoke and pheromones and he quickly disabled his olfactory sensors. He also stopped breathing for good measure, one of the benefits of being partly mechanical was that he could go some time without air. He found Valentino quickly, in the thickest part of the hazy cloud the filled the centre of the room. He couldn’t see any signs of Angel Dust, and it seemed filming had wrapped for the day. Good, that meant less chances of collateral damage. He strode over purposefully and grabbed Valentino by the fur of his wings.

“How stupid are you?”

Valentino coughed on his cigarette.

“Vox!” He sputtered. “Wh- what a surprise!” He smiled, his voice turning sweet when he recovered from his coughing fit. “And what exactly would you be doing here? Come to apologise?”

Vox regarded him coldly, still holding firmly to his fur.

“You didn’t answer my question, but considering your actions today I think I can figure it out. You made an enemy of the princess of Hell, you absolute fool. As for why I’m here, I’ve decided to do something I should have done a long time ago.”

“And what would that be Voxy? Come to kill me? Go ahead. You’re no overlord, so I’d like to see you try.” Valentino’s voice was devoid of sweetness now, but Vox preferred it that way. He smiled, a sharklike, predatory smile. One he learned from Alastor and had since perfected.

“We both know I’m still stronger than you. But no, I’m not here to kill you. Not this time at least. And trust me, the princess doesn’t need me to fight her battles for her. I’m here because I want you to remember something.” He leaned in close and let distortion creep into his voice.

“ You offered Angel Dust to me. I can take him from you the second he says yes. And I will not hesitate to do so. ”

He released Val and stepped back, wiping his hands on his jacket as if he’d touched something disgusting. In a way he had. He delighted in the look of horror on Valentino’s face, clearly the moth had forgotten the contract he’d signed six years ago. Vox smiled.

“Goodbye Valentino. I hope you think carefully about what I’ve said.”

Then he walked back outside and teleported away.

Back in his room at the hotel he gasped for breath. He’d pushed his limit a little, but it was worth it to not breathe in any of Valentino’s smoke. He’d been so naive before, thinking that Val would treat his employees with even the most basic of decency. He’d assumed Val only forced himself on those he needed to manipulate, why abuse someone you already own? His breathing now returned to normal, he made his way down to the lobby only to find Vaggie yelling at Husk.

“It’s your fault he’s gone, so you go after him!”

“I ain’t his babysitter!”

Vox approached the two, though he had a feeling he knew what was going on.

“Everything alright here?” He resisted the instinct to use his hypnosis to calm them down, he assumed they wouldn’t take kindly to him influencing their emotions. Vaggie huffed.

“Angel didn’t come back after his shoot, because Husk called him fake. Actually Vox, do you think you can find him?”

Vox hummed. He still had a headache from not breathing for ten minutes, and he could feel the energy drain of watching Charlie earlier, as well as teleporting back and forth from Val’s studio, but finding Angel shouldn’t be too hard. He began sifting through camera feeds, eventually spotting Angel in a club near Val’s studio. He came back to reality to see Vaggie and Husk looking at him worriedly.

“I found him, is something wrong?”

“You were swaying.”

Oh. He hadn’t even noticed. He waved them off.

“I’m fine. I sent you Angel Dust’s location.” He pointed at Husk’s pocket where he could sense his phone. Husk sighed.

“Fine, I’ll go get him.” He grumbled, and continued to mutter curses as he left the hotel to go get Angel. Vox turned around to go back to his room, but Vaggie grabbed his arm.

“Don’t bullshit me. What’s wrong with you?” She said seriously. He laughed softly at her bluntness, taking his arm back and shaking his head.

“Nothing, just tired. Got no souls but my own to pull power from, remember? Unless I want to blackout the city I’ve got some limits. I guess I pushed those limits a little today. I’m fine.”

She nodded, and he took that as acceptance of his explanation. He bid her goodnight and retreated to his room, taking care to plug in his head before flopping onto his bed and falling asleep. However he was awoken less than an hour later when he heard voices and laughter downstairs. He heard Angel Dust and figured now was as good a time as ever to do what he’d planned. Making a mental note to turn his audio sensors off next time he wanted to sleep, he teleported downstairs, not bothered to walk, and stifled a laugh at the startled reactions of those already gathered in the lobby. He was about to speak when he noticed Angel Dust’s expression change, his smile vanishing.

“Angel Dust I -“

“You what? You gonna tell me to suck it up and be grateful? You think Val’s right to do what he does?” Angel practically spat the words. Vox blinked.

“What? No, of course not, and I had no idea when I worked with him! I ended our partnership because he came on to me!”

There he went again with the saying too much out loud. Seven years alone had really fucked with his sense of what was normal to say. Angel Dust was silent, so he continued.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do anything then, but there’s something I can do now. Valentino offered me your soul six years ago. He wrote up a contract, signature and all. I still have it. If you and I sign it, ownership of your soul will be transferred to me. He won’t own you anymore.” Vox ignored the surprised gasps from the other people in the room, focusing solely on Angel Dust’s reaction.

“So what? You’d own me instead.”

“I’ll cancel it. Your soul will be your own. I don’t want it.” He said, and he meant it. Angel Dust seemed to think for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay. Where’s the contract?”

Electricity crackled and the contract appeared in Vox’s hand. He unrolled it carefully to reveal Valentino’s looping signature on the bottom, along with two empty spaces. Vox pointed to the top space.

“You just sign here, then I sign on the last line, and that’s it. Oh and Charlie? Val’s going to be pissed, so he might come looking for trouble. He won’t if he’s smart, but we shouldn’t count on that.”

Angel Dust laughed, and Vox smiled, genuinely this time. He handed the contract over and Angel signed it in graceful script that read ‘ Anthony ’. He handed it back to Vox, who nodded, before signing his own name on the bottommost line. The contract glowed bright blue, and Vox felt a surge of energy that made all the lights in the lobby glow brighter.

A second later there was a ripping sound, and two halves of the contract fluttered to the ground, reduced to normal paper. Angel Dust blinked as he physically felt the ownership of his soul return to him. Vox stumbled as the brief power surge was ripped away. Vaggie, Charlie, and Husk watched in amazement. Vox brushed his hands together.

“There, all done. Okay, if that’s all then I’m going back to -oof!” He was cut off as Angel Dust crashed into him, all six arms wrapped around him in a strange, grateful embrace.

“Thank you.” Angel whispered. Vox patted him awkwardly on the back. Angel Dust pulled away, wiping his eyes on his glove. Charlie took that as an invitation, jumping in to wrap the spider in her own tight hug, Vaggie smiling from the sidelines. Husk gave Vox a pat on the back.

“Not bad kid.” He said, smiling, and from Husk those three words were high praise. Vox’s screen fuzzed with static as he blushed. Despite the slightly painful feeling of gaining a soul only to have it ripped away, he felt a warmth in his chest. For the first time in a long time he felt as though he’d done the right thing. However, he also felt moments from collapsing, so he quietly excused himself and teleported straight into bed, accidentally waking up Vark, who jumped up on the bed and snuggled into his side. He decided to allow it this time.

Within seconds he was asleep.

Chapter Text

Alastor was cleaning his broadcasting tower when he heard the polite but frantic knocking on the trapdoor. His smile softened. Vox always knocked, even though they could sense each other from the other side of the hotel, Vox respected his boundaries. He waved a hand and the trapdoor opened, revealing a slightly worried looking Vox wearing a familiar item of clothing.

“You haven’t worn that in a while.”

Vox glanced down at himself. At the soft turtleneck sweater he used to wear so often. That he was wearing that fateful night seven years ago.

“No, I guess I haven’t. Alastor, that’s really not important right now. Charlie called her dad.”

“I see, and what does that have to do with anything?” He turned back to his control panel, wiping away dust that wasn’t really there.

“Her dad, the king of Hell himself? He’s coming to the hotel. Today. Actually in about fifteen minutes.”

Interesting. Alastor’s smiled widened. This could be fun. He turned back to Vox.

“Well then we should be there to greet him when he arrives! We can’t have the king visit without a proper welcome!” He made for the door, before stopping and taking Vox by the arm.

“You really should wear that more often my dear. It suits you.” He said as he dropped them both into the shadows. They emerged in the hotel lobby and it only took Vox a moment to reorient himself. Alastor grinned as Vox cursed about shadow portals under his breath. He liked being friends with Vox again. His shadow was pleased as well, purring anytime Vox was nearby. He’d had to prevent it from going too far from him, heaven knows what it would do if left unsupervised. He wouldn’t risk pushing Vox away, not when he’d just got him back.

Every time they were together he felt more content than he had in a long time. Vox still laughed at all his jokes no matter how many times he told them, still listened to his stories even if he’d heard them all before. Every day Alastor found himself remembering more and more why he kept Vox around in the first place. The TV demon was funny, his dry wit and sarcasm a perfect balance for Alastor’s own humour. However, unlike Alastor, Vox wore his heart on his sleeve, his screen broadcasting every emotion for all of Hell to see. He wished Vox would guard his emotions more closely, it was too easy to be taken advantage of in Hell if even the slightest weakness was detected. But, at the same time, he admired how well Vox handled his emotions, never letting anger cloud his judgement, always logical.

Speaking of emotion clouding judgement, Alastor observed Charlie race around the hotel, frantically attempting to prepare for her father to arrive. Now that was an open book. He snapped his fingers and the lobby became marginally cleaner, the banner  Vaggie was trying to hang up straightening itself. Vaggie slid down the ladder with a huff.

“Where have you been, Lucifer is going to be here any minute.”

“Oh don’t worry my dear! I was just doing some tidying of my own.”

There was a crash as Charlie skidded into a plant pot. Another snap saw it fixed and the dirt scooped back in. Alastor noticed Vox helping Sir Pentious set up a table with what looked vaguely liked baked goods if they had been made while blindfolded. He smiled. Niffty must have helped. Alastor caught Charlie by the shoulders as she tried to brush past.

“Slow down my dear! Rushing is not a productive way to get things done!”

“Sorry, but my dad is going to be here any minute and I-“ She trailed off at the sound of someone knocking on the front door.

Charlie opened the door and was immediately hugged tightly by her father… who was shorter than her by more than a head. Alastor’s grin widened. This would be very entertaining. He popped up behind the king of hell, introducing himself and shaking Lucifer’s cane.

“Hello there your majesty. I am Alastor, it’s a pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!” He said brightly, wiping his hand off on his coat. The king stumbled, righting his hat.

“I’m sorry who are you? Are you the bellhop?”

Well that was rude.

“Ah ha! No! I am the hotelier of this fine establishment, here to help Charlie with whatever she needs.”

Lucifer didn’t seem pleased. Alastor watched as Charlie introduced the rest of the hotel residents, only half listening. He realised Vox had disappeared at some point, though he could feel the other sinner was still in the hotel.

Lucifer didn’t seem very impressed.

“Well, I suppose that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’!”

“It was actually my idea.”

“Well it’s not very clever!”

“Ha ha! Fuck you.”

They were interrupted as the chandelier came crashing down, and Lucifer sighed.

“All right then.”

Well, that explained where Charlie got her singing habits from. But really, the nerve to come in and critique when he had done nothing so far to help! Alastor smiled. He knew exactly how to get under Lucifer’s skin.

“Who’s been here since day one?”

When Vox came back from turning off the oven -a task that took less than five minutes- and was met with the sight of Alastor in a song fight combination with the king of hell himself, he almost blew a circuit. What the fuck was Alastor thinking?! He slid in next to Angel Dust and Husk who were sharing a box of popcorn.

“What the fuck is going on?!” He whispered, and Angel shrugged.

“I don’t know, but it’s fuckin hilarious.” The spider whispered back, tossing popcorn into his mouth. Husk chuckled. The two had grown closer recently, Vox had noticed. The feline leaned over to him.

“Alastor’s trying to one up the king of Hell, and he’s not entirely failing.” He said, and Vox’s fingers sparked. Alastor was going to die and he was going to have to watch. What had his afterlife come to? He still hadn’t fully forgiven Alastor for leaving the first time, and now he was going to get himself erased from existence by the fucking king of Hell himself. Alastor and Lucifer had sped up their singing argument, getting more and more in each other’s faces and just as Vox was considering jumping in to pull Alastor away the hotel doors slammed open and they both stopped in surprise.

“It’s me! Yes it’s me! I know you were all waiting for me!”

Ugh.

Fucking Mimsy.

It wasn’t that Vox actively disliked her, more that he was sick of her bringing her problems for him and Alastor to solve, though her arrival this time had been conveniently timed, interrupting the song enough that it no longer seemed like Alastor was about to be destroyed. He frowned as she came over to the bar and took a seat. Charlie and Vaggie had taken Lucifer on a tour of the hotel, Alastor tagging along, and as much as Vox wanted to grab his friend by the shoulders and shake him for being so fucking stupid as to start beef with the king of Hell, he decided keeping an eye on Mimsy was the more immediate concern. He could yell at Alastor later. Husk seemed to have similar concerns.

“What’s the problem this time Mim?” The feline sighed. “You in trouble again?”

Mimsy gasped dramatically. “Is it so impossible that I just want to catch up with an old friend?”

Yes. Vox kept that thought to himself. As much as Mimsy was trouble, Alastor liked her, and he didn’t feel like causing problems. However, he did fan out his senses, feeling for any technology in the area that could warn of incoming danger. He zoned out a little, focused more on the outside of the hotel than the inside, but he vaguely registered Angel Dust asking about Alastor and Mimsy telling a very over-dramatised account of the radio demon’s rise to power. He did pick up on the fact that he was not mentioned, despite being present for most of the things she talked about. During her story Husk got up and left, muttering something about Alastor.

A minute later, Vox felt Alastor’s anger like a bucket of cold water to the face. What the hell had Husk said to him?! It brought his attention back to the hotel, and he resisted the urge to put his mental shields back up when he was assaulted with Lucifer’s high frequency -it burned like a golden sun, a highly compacted ball of pure energy, similar to the energy given off by angelic steel but a billion times brighter. He turned his senses back to the outside of the hotel before his circuits were fried from exposure.

He realised then why Mimsy was here. Well that was just great.

He came back to himself, glancing around, but no one else seemed to have noticed the large gang of sinners currently approaching the hotel. He could sense roughly fifty of them by devices alone, all likely armed with guns or bombs. Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer were nowhere to be found, but he spotted Alastor entering the lobby, Husk trailing behind him. He ran over to Alastor.

“First of all I’m going to yell at you later but as for right now we’ve got other problems. Mimsy’s brought trouble.”

As he spoke, the hotel shook as a bomb went off outside. Alastor’s smile became sharp, his eyes turning to dials.

“Very well. I think it’s time I remind everyone why I am here.”

The following carnage almost made Vox throw up. As much as he respected and admired Alastor, watching him swallow other demons whole made his stomach turn. He much preferred manipulating others in order to get what he wanted, using words as weapons rather than teeth or claws. Violence was messy, a last resort if he couldn’t persuade. Hypnosis was so much more civil. He knew Alastor preferred to just get the job done, and he admired his efficiency and strength, but it just wasn’t Vox’s style. When he’d met Alastor he’d been surprised at how normal he seemed considering the fact that he broadcast tortured screams.

*****

“What exactly might you be?”

Vox startled. The now familiar voice he’d been listening to for the past few weeks on the radio was now coming from right beside him. He turned and was met with the sight of a tall demon with a wide grin, red hair and a red coat. It was a lot of red, actually. The demon also had what looked like ears sticking out from the top of his hair, and if Vox looked closely he could spot what seemed to be small antlers. But other than that he looked surprisingly normal, nearly human.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, and the grinning demon tapped his head with what looked like a microphone.

“This… contraption you have atop your shoulders. I’ve never seen anything like it before. What is it?”

“It’s a TV… A television?” He added at the other demons’s apparent confusion. “It shows moving pictures. Wait, how don’t you know what a TV is, I’ve seen some down here?”

“Oh I never cared much for modern technology. And as for entertainment, I think you’ll find that radio is the most elegant medium.” The demon said, and Vox found himself nodding.

“I’d have to agree with you there.” He couldn’t help the bitter tone from creeping in. He’d listened to the radio growing up, especially when he’d been stuck in the hospital for weeks at a time. TV on the other hand had been a double edged sword, bringing him great success only to leave him in the dust when he couldn’t keep up. He realised the other demon had sat down beside him, and he shifted in his seat.

“I listen to your radio broadcasts.” He said quietly. The other demon’s smile widened.

“Ah, a man of culture I see! My name is Alastor, but I am also known as the Radio Demon. How long have you been down here?” Alastor asked as he extended his hand for Vox to shake.

“Uh, almost five weeks now. I’m Vox by the way. I guess that makes me the TV demon then?” He pointed to his own head. Alastor laughed.

“Why I suppose it does! So, does the picture box provide any abilities?”

Vox thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really tried.” He admitted. He’d been too busy trying to survive and not letting his depression get the best of him again. But then he remembered something.

“Actually, there was this weird thing that happened the other day, I think I accidentally hypnotised somebody.”

Alastor looked pleasantly surprised. He put a hand up and ordered the two of them drinks.

“Fascinating. Could you tell me more?”

*****

Left eye spiralling, Vox told the loan sharks that had gotten past Alastor to ignore the hotel, that Mimsy wasn’t here and never had been. They turned around and walked away, back towards the massacre that was taking place on the front lawn. Vox saw Alastor bite one of the loan sharks’ heads off and had to press a hand over his mouth as he gagged.

When all the loan sharks were gone and Alastor had returned to his normal size he came and stood next to Vox.

“Why, you’re looking a little peaky there, my friend.” He said, and Vox could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Fuck off.” He replied, but there was no hostility in it. He took a deep breath, then sighed as he noticed Mimsy approaching them.

“Oh Alastor, what a performance! Just brilliant the way you-“

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Mimsy.” Alastor said coldly, a sharp contrast to how he’d greeted the other sinner earlier. Mimsy rolled her eyes.

“Oh you don’t mean that. Look, I’m sorry about the loan sharks, but I’ll make it up to ya-“

“You brought trouble to the hotel. I did not appreciate that. You should leave. Now.”

Mimsy huffed. “Fine. It was boring anyway.” Then she stomped away. Vox stared at Alastor, wide eyed. Did he really care about the hotel? Alastor turned to Vox, and his expression softened.

“Now, I believe you mentioned yelling at me? Why don’t we head up to my tower and you can express whatever’s bothering you.”

Vox nodded, vanishing into the hotel circuitry as Alastor melted into the shadows.

When Vox emerged in the radio tower, he waited for a moment for Alastor to fully solidify out of the shadows before grasping him firmly by the shoulders and shaking him.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! The king of Hell himself and you immediately provoke him! He could have killed you!” He shouted, voice glitching slightly.

“I wait se-seven fucking years for you and right after I get you back, you g-go and piss off the king of Hell?! Make that make fucking sense Alastor! What if he’d taken offence, he isn’t just some sinner, fuck you’re so fucking stupid sometimes!”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.” Vox removed his hands from Alastor’s shoulders and Alastor straightened his coat.

“I know he wouldn’t kill me. It would upset Charlie, and I could tell he’d do anything to avoid that.” He said. “I wouldn’t be so stupid as to provoke him in a way that actually made him angry. Don’t worry so much, my dear.”

Vox sighed. “Yeah, alright. I just… he’s so bright.”

Alastor tilted his head, one ear flicking in curiosity. “What do you mean by that? Bright?”

Vox gestured vaguely. How to explain something that technically didn’t exist, a digital representation of energy that only he could perceive? He leaned against the control panel as he thought.

“Alright, you know how we can sense each other’s frequencies?”

Alastor nodded, and Vox continued.

“I can sense all technology, especially my own, because it operates on a similar frequency to what I do. But all energy kind of has its own frequency, including angelic and demonic power. Most sinners don’t have enough to register. Angelic steel hums with electromagnetic energy. Lucifer was like a fucking supernova. He operates on a frequency so high I almost can’t perceive it at all.”

Alastor was silent for a moment.

“Fascinating. Yet I noticed you haven’t met the king yet. Perhaps afterwards you’ll understand there was no need for concern.” Alastor smiled softly, the kind of smile that made Vox’s heart flutter.

The king of Hell was not what Vox had expected. First of all, they’d come down to the lobby to find Charlie and Lucifer hugging while singing a duet, both of their eyes shining with tears. When they broke apart Lucifer said something to Charlie that was too quiet to make out, but she seemed very pleased. She spotted Alastor and Vox and squeaked excitedly.

“Oh, Dad, this is Vox! He’s our other hotel resident!” She said with a flourishing gesture, and Vox froze, unsure whether his showman persona would be appropriate here. He decided it would probably be best to be honest to the king of Hell, so he gave a small smile and a wave, remaining at Alastor’s side. Lucifer seemed surprised for a moment, before tilting his head curiously, the same as his daughter, Vox noted.

“Battery? You’re trying for redemption?” Lucifer said, and now it was Vox’s turn to be confused. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Um, not exactly. And… battery? Do you know me?” He said, and Lucifer laughed.

“Oh, sorry about that, I didn’t actually know your name.” He said. “But you power all of Hell, so of course I know who you are!”

Vox blinked. “Do you mean Pentagram City? Or the Pride Ring?”

Lucifer laughed again, then trailed off as Vox waited for an answer.

“Wait, you don’t know? I mean ALL of Hell. All the rings. None of it had proper electricity until you got here. It was all powered by the individual sins’ magic. Then you arrived and suddenly they didn’t have to power it anymore. I thought you’d know.” Lucifer seemed apologetic all of a sudden. Vox was stunned. The whole time he’d been acting as a power source for all of Hell? The king himself referred to him as a battery! Lucifer shifted awkwardly.

“So, you’re trying to be redeemed! That’s great! But… I don’t know what would happen to Hell if you left. Or if you even can leave. So…” He trailed off. Vox was still too stunned to speak. Thankfully Charlie stepped in.

“Well Dad, Vox isn’t exactly here for redemption, more like… rehabilitation! So as much as I think he’s already made progress towards being a better person, I think he wants to stay here.” She glanced between Vox and Alastor, smiling softly.

Seemingly satisfied with that, Lucifer turned back to Charlie.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do to set up a meeting. I’ll let you know as soon as I get a response.” He said, before hugging her tightly. Then he opened a glowing portal and stepped through, waving to Charlie as it closed. Once he was gone Vox leaned against Alastor, still processing the information he’d just received.

All of hell. Seven rings of sinners, hellborn and sins and he apparently was the power source for it all. It was a lot to take in. Charlie gave him a concerned look.

“Vox are you alright? That was kind of a lot just then.” She said gently, and he felt both grateful that she seemed to genuinely care and resentful of the fact that he needed to be cared for. He was just so confused. Why him? What did that mean for him? He’d planned on ending himself, would that have left all of Hell without power? When he crashed, did all of Hell experience the resulting blackout? He didn’t even own any souls.

How powerful was he?

Alastor supported Vox when he leaned against him, clearly reeling from Lucifer’s words. Alastor himself was surprised. He knew Vox was powerful, but this was something else. This was more than even his own power level. He suppressed a laugh. Possibly the most powerful sinner in Hell and he got squeamish watching Alastor eat. Vox was truly one of a kind. He was also currently in a state of shock, so Alastor gently wrapped an arm around his waist and led him upstairs, ignoring the surprised reactions of the other hotel residents, and double ignoring Charlie’s fond look, like she knew more than she let on. For all her naivety, she did occasionally manage to be annoyingly observant.

Alastor lead Vox to his room where Vark was waiting, swimming happily in the newly installed tank that took up a whole wall. He sat Vox on the bed and took a seat beside him, content to wait until Vox either spoke or fell asleep. He wasn’t usually this tolerant, but something about Vox made him want to be ever so slightly kinder, more gentle. The TV demon had wormed his way into Alastor’s heart and was slowly but surely sanding down the rougher edges. He remembered the last time he’d felt the need to be so gentle, when Vox’s screen had been smashed in and he’d helped repair it.

“You really don’t need to do this, I’ve done it myself before.” Vox said, as Alastor carefully placed another shard back into its correct position. He waved off the comment.

“Nonsense my dear! It would be rude to just sit by and watch you do this, not to mention annoying, it would take twice as long if I didn’t help!” The words themselves were harsh but the tone was gentle, and the real message went unspoken. I don’t like seeing you hurt. Alastor placed another piece of Vox’s screen and sent a small pulse of static through it to speed up the healing. Vox sighed.

“Yeah, I suppose. Thank you.” He paused, and from what little of his face was still working Alastor could see he was considering something.

“Can I tell you something? The screen, my whole head really, it’s not that vital. It’s just a display.” He tapped the side of his boxy head as he spoke. “I’m thinking of replacing the whole thing with something more modern. It would certainly be lighter.” Alastor frowned inwardly. He liked Vox’s head the way it was. He’d seen modern TV’s. All straight edges and sharp corners, he much preferred the softer shape of older box models. He hummed softly as Vox continued talking.

“Nothing important is stored in there. It’s all in here.” He placed a hand over his chest, and Alastor wondered for a moment why Vox was telling him this.

“My heart is still organic, and it’s right in the middle. It’s surrounded by technical components, what is essentially my brain. CPU, memory storage, power supply, it’s all in there. My head is pretty fragile to be honest, but my core is heavily armoured. That’s why I never panic about my face getting smashed. It doesn’t do any real lasting damage.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you.”

Vox trusted him. Maybe that was the difference. That someone usually so guarded, always putting on a show, trusted him , the radio demon, enough to reveal critical weaknesses or feel safe to just sit in silence, was what made him want to earn that trust, to prove to Vox that his trust was not misplaced.

He felt something press against his side and glanced down to see Vox’s screen had dimmed, a sign he’d fallen asleep. Alastor manoeuvred him until he was lying down before opening a portal to his own room. Thinking back to what Lucifer said, it was no wonder Vox was exhausted, considering he apparently functioned as a free energy source for all of Hell. Alastor growled. None of the sins, Lucifer included, had had the decency to even tell him they were using his electricity, even after he no longer owned any souls.

He’d heard about what Vox had done for Angel Dust, taking his soul from that repulsive moth only to set him free. Alastor knew the feeling of losing a soul’s power, he experienced it every extermination, but he owned thousands, to only have one and have it torn away… he shuddered. It was not something he would do. Vox did a lot of things he wouldn’t do, but he also did a lot of things Vox would never do. Cannibalism for one. He chuckled softly at the mental image of Vox having anything to do with that, as it would surely end in the TV demon being sick. The first time he’d taken Vox to Cannibal Town had been very entertaining.

“Are you sure about this? What if she doesn’t like me?” Vox said nervously, fiddling with his sleeves as they walked towards Rosie’s Emporium. Alastor laughed.

“Nonsense my dear! With manners like yours, I should be worried that she’ll like you more than me!” He said, and that got a laugh out of Vox, who nodded.

He needn’t have worried, when they arrived Rosie greeted them both excitedly.

“Alastor, it’s so good to see you! And who might this be? Oh aren’t you something!” She said, smiling wide and taking Vox’s hands in one of her own and gently turning his head back and forth. Alastor stepped up beside them, putting an arm around Vox’s shoulders.

“This is Vox, the one I mentioned at the last meeting. He hasn’t even been here a year, you know? And already well on his way to joining us as an overlord.” Alastor smiled wider, as Rosie fawned over Vox, looking him up and down as he squirmed slightly under her scrutiny. Then she nodded, the feathers on her hat swaying.

“Very impressive. You mentioned he has quite the power set, I’ve noticed my streets have been brighter the last few months! Is that you dear?”

Vox startled slightly, a spark jumping between his antenna.

“Yes ma’am, I believe so.” He said, and Rosie laughed.

“Oh honey, just Rosie is fine, none of that ma’am stuff! Alastor where did you find him!” She said, and Alastor just shrugged. Rosie took Vox by the shoulders and walked him into her parlour room where lunch was already set out for them. Alastor followed close behind, looking over the spread with approval. They sat down and Rosie and Alastor began eating, talking in between. It had been a while since they caught up socially, so there was plenty to talk about.

Meanwhile, Vox sat quietly, not touching the food, and when Alastor turned to ask him something he noticed that much of the usual vibrancy was missing from his screen. He nudged Rosie under the table and she too turned to look at Vox.

“Oh dear, are you all right? You’re looking rather pale.”

Vox swallowed, then took a shaky breath.

“I’m fine, if you’d just excuse me one moment.” He said, then he stood abruptly and bolted from the room. Alastor’s smile morphed into a grimace as he heard the sound of Vox throwing up in the next room. He stood and motioned for Rosie to stay seated.

“I’ll go check on our guest. Shouldn’t be too long, I think I know what the problem is.”

She nodded, and he went to retrieve his acquaintance. He found Vox hunched over a bucket. He was surprised to see something actually coming out, considering the screen the other sinner had for a face. He stood there for a minute until Vox noticed him.

“A-Alastor!” Vox exclaimed, his screen glitching slightly. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disrespect you. Or your friend.”

Alastor shook his head, surprised at how little anger he actually felt. He’d killed other sinners for less.

“Don’t fret. The fault is partially my own, I know our diet is unconventional, I should have given you more warning. Rosie understands as well. We’ve finished eating so feel free to join us again when you’ve collected yourself.”

Vox nodded. Alastor smiled.

He’d taken care to avoid eating sinner flesh in front of Vox since then. At the time he wasn’t sure why he bothered. He never cared about what anyone else thought or felt about his habits. But Vox was different. He was certain of that now.

He’d always been different.

Chapter Text

The next day Alastor had to fix the hotel wall again. Courtesy of one Cherri Bomb and her explosive entrance. Just another day at the hotel. Apparently Lucifer had arranged for Charlie and Vaggie to meet with heaven, and Charlie had in turn given Cherri Bomb a stack of cash to take the others out as some kind of reward, so that left Alastor and Vox to mind the hotel. Vox had insisted on keeping an eye on the other hotel residents, and Alastor wasn’t sure if it was because he cared about them or because he was paranoid about always knowing what was going on.

Alastor was feeling restless. Vox’s attention was split, half on Alastor and the other half flitting around the city following the others as they toured several bars before finding somewhere they liked. To put it simply, Alastor was bored. The last time he was bored he got involved in a seemingly hopeless passion project that he was still somehow managing, and as entertaining as the hotel usually was, he was trying to find some way to entertain himself that wouldn’t cause too much trouble for him later.

He decided to bother Vox. Creeping up behind him when he was half zoned out may have been unfair, but it never stopped being amusing, especially when Vox’s antenna sparked. Alastor’s smile widened. He’d gotten quite good at reading Vox’s many signals over the years, and there were many; Vox was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, or rather, his screen. Antenna sparks were harmless, mild outputs of electricity that came from surprise. Large glitches on the other hand were remnants of Vox’s poor health when he was alive, and had become something Alastor disliked greatly.

The land shark that followed Vox everywhere was settled at his feet, and raised its head slightly when Vox reacted, only to settle down again when it spotted Alastor, and the fact that Vox’s shark assumed him to be no threat to his master sent a warm hum through his chest.

Alastor ignored Vox’s muttered cursing as he toyed with one of his antennae, gently pushing it around and watching it spring back into place when he let go. Not so different to his own ears, and as much as he usually disliked them, the fact that he and Vox had something akin to a shared feature made him feel warm inside. He stopped fiddling with Vox’s antenna and sat on the armchair across from him. They’d settled in the living room area, being a central point of the hotel and close to the front windows so they would be able to see any danger approaching long before it arrived. Not that anything could get past Vox’s cameras anyway, certainly not now that the dark spot around the hotel had been filled.

Alastor tapped his microphone and music began to play, something slightly after his time for once, a jazz piece from the mid 50s. Vox looked up as he registered the tune, a look of recognition on his screen as the lyrics played.

‘Its not the pale moon that excites me

That thrills and delights me, oh no

It’s just the nearness of you’

“Wait I know this one. I listened to this. I interviewed them, you know? Ella and Louis. They were really something. But why this song? I thought you preferred older stuff?”

“Dance with me.”

Vox’s antenna sparked again. Alastor stood and with a snap of his fingers moved the coffee table aside as he offered a hand to Vox, who remained seated, his expression showing his confusion.

“What?”

“Dance with me. You haven’t forgotten how to dance, have you?” He said, and Vox rolled his eyes before taking his hand.

“Of course not.”

They began dancing slowly, more of a gentle sway than anything else, matching the relaxed tempo of the music. Alastor noticed Vox humming along and his smile softened. He hadn’t been sure whether or not Vox had still been alive when the song came out, but it seemed like he was, as his current expression seemed almost nostalgic, and no one was nostalgic for Hell. Alastor lead their duet, spinning Vox in time to the trumpet solo and pulling him back in when the vocals started again. He found himself thinking, if this was what being with Vox was like then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe there wouldn’t be a need for more, maybe this would be enough. He quickly dismissed that train of thought.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing this, but it felt right, dancing with Vox. They continued their slow dance around the living room for the duration of the song, ending with Alastor holding Vox in a dip as the music faded out. After a moment they both seemed to come back to reality and separated, Alastor retrieving his microphone and Vox straightening his jacket. Vox cleared his throat.

“That song came out about a month before I died. It was one of the last songs I listened to. It was… really nice to hear it again. Thank you.” He gave Alastor a soft smile, which Alastor returned, the baring of his teeth for once not predatory, but rather a show of genuine affection.

“You’re very welcome my dear. I enjoyed dancing with you again. It has truly been too long.” He said, and Vox’s smile lost some of the sadness it had held before, his whole screen brightening. Then something shifted, Vox’s blue eye glowing slightly brighter as whatever he was seeing fully captured his attention. His screen darkened slightly as he frowned, then focused once again on Alastor.

“The others need help, they ran into Val.” Vox’s tone was serious, and he said the moth’s name as if it were something disgusting. Vark growled softly from his position on the floor. “You stay here and guard the hotel, I’ll go get the others. If I’m not back in twenty minutes come after me.”

Alastor nodded and Vox vanished in a flash of electricity.

The club was plunged into darkness as Vox cut the power. Breathing already disabled, he walked into the club, only allowing the power to flicker back to life when he was standing between Valentino and Angel Dust, the rest of the hotel residents further behind him. He saw Angel retreat to Husk’s side as he stared down Val.

“I warned you. You heard him Val. You don’t own him anymore. Leave. ” Distortion crept into his voice as the moth spread his wings, not even offering a response before jumping to violence.

Electricity sparked between Vox’s fingers and when Valentino lunged at him he grasped the moth’s remaining antenna tightly, wrenching his head back. Unfortunately Valentino had the size advantage and was able to land a punch on Vox’s screen, seconds before Vox sent a thousand volts of electricity through the moth’s antenna, frying it completely. Val slumped to the ground and Vox turned to the others, one hand pressed to his screen where he could feel a sizeable crack.

“Is everyone alright?” He glanced over the group. Angel Dust had a split lip but was smiling nonetheless, and no one else seemed any worse for wear. He did a quick headcount to make sure he wasn’t missing anyone. “Wait, where’s Niffty?”

Maniacal giggling sounded from behind him and he turned to see Niffty ripping a chunk out of Val’s fur before scuttling back to Angel Dust. Okay, now everyone was accounted for.

“I think it might be best if we returned to the hotel. Unfortunately I didn’t kill him.” Vox gestured to the unconscious Valentino. There was a general sense of agreement from the group and they left the club. Angel Dust gave Val a solid kick to the head as he went by.

Charlie didn’t know what to think. Heaven didn’t even know what decided who went to Heaven and who went to Hell! As she watched Angel Dust take care of Niffty and stand up to Valentino she felt pride swell. He’d truly come so far, and now he was showing his true self. She had to restrain herself from cheering at the look on Valentino’s face when Angel told him he didn’t own him anymore. When Val hit him she couldn’t withhold her gasp. She felt Vaggie’s hand on her shoulder, providing silent support. When the globe went dark for a moment there were murmurs about if the connection had been lost, but then it lit up again, and Vox was standing between Valentino and Angel in a way that couldn’t be anything other than protective.

All of heaven’s court watched closely as Valentino lunged at Vox, cracking his screen before being electrocuted. Charlie clenched her fists at the sight of fluid dripping from Vox’s screen, but at the same time was hopeful. The show of selfless action was undoubtedly helpful to their cause, and she noticed Emily’s concerned expression as she watched Vox press a hand over his eye.

“He got hurt protecting them. He wasn’t even there before. Sera, that’s good!

Charlie’s heart sank as Sera put a hand in front of Emily, but Emily didn’t back down.

“But she was right, Sera! She showed us a soul can improve, they saw the light Sera!”

Charlie smiled. Now they were getting somewhere.

Vox took a deep breath, then winced as the cold night air worked its way inside the cracks in his screen, stinging against the exposed wires. It wasn’t a major injury but it still hurt like a bitch. Though the knowledge that he’d finally given Val matching antennae made him smile slightly. By the time they arrived back at the hotel he could feel fluid leaking out of the cracks, his display flickering and only one eye visible, hindering his vision and giving him a headache. After ushering everyone inside, including Cherri Bomb, who had accompanied them back to the hotel, he was accosted by Alastor, who’s ears twitched as he gently removed Vox’s hand from his face and tutted.

“My, what a mess!” He said as he ushered Vox upstairs to his room. Once they were out of sight of the others Alastor grabbed the sides of Vox’s screen, turning it gently to check for any other damage. Vark circled the bed protectively, glancing between his injured demon and the door. Vox had determined that since the damage wasn’t likely to get worse he could shut off that area, leaving half of his face blanked out. At least he didn’t feel it as much anymore. He lowered Alastor’s hands.

“It’s fine. You should see the other guy.” He joked, the one working side of his mouth lifting into a grin. “Val got one hit in before I fried his other antenna. It’s not that bad really.”

“You’re leaking coolant on the floor.”

Shit. He glanced down to see that Alastor was right. The bright blue fluid that was supposed to remain inside the mechanical parts of his body was leaking out of what was now a large crack in his face. At least there was no blood. That would be less fun. Leaking coolant he could manage, but if he was bleeding then that meant something organic was damaged and that was usually harder to fix. The third liquid that made up his bodily fluids was mercury, found only in his innermost core, the vital structures that protected his organic heart and the central processor that was essentially his brain. He dreaded the day he was damaged enough to cause a mercury leak.

Alastor began patching the crack in his screen, using a mix of the bonding agent Vox always kept a supply of and some waves of radio static to accelerate the healing. TV and radio weren’t that different after all, they used many of the same technologies, and were often compatible in terms of frequency. Vox sighed as the pain faded away and he was able to reactivate the rest of his face.

“Thank you.”

Alastor nodded, his smile soft as he wiped away the remaining coolant on Vox’s screen.

“No need to thank me, my dear.” He hesitated then, as if he wanted to say something more but decided against it. Vox thought back to before he’d left, when they were dancing around the living room, the atmosphere almost domestic.

No. It couldn’t be like that. They couldn’t be like that. Alastor had made his stance quite clear, and Vox wouldn’t push that boundary again. He’d accepted that they would be friends and that was all. After missing Alastor for seven years, just having him back at all was more than enough.

As Alastor finished cleaning up, they heard voices downstairs, signalling Charlie and Vaggie’s return from their trip to Heaven. But when they went downstairs the atmosphere was tense. Both girls were upset by something. Charlie brushed past Vox and Alastor, headed straight for her room, while Vaggie stood in the middle of the lobby looking slightly lost. Vox leaned in to whisper in Alastor’s ear.

“I’ll go check on Charlie, you find out what happened.”

“A good plan, my dear. I’ll catch you up once I know the situation.” Alastor whispered back, before joining the other hotel residents who had gathered around Vaggie.

Vox knocked lightly on the door of Charlie’s room.

“Vaggie please go away, I need some time to think!” Charlie’s voice echoed from inside and Vox cleared his throat.

“Um, princess? It’s me, it’s Vox, I mean. May I come in?” He said, then stepped back as the door was suddenly thrown open. Charlie stood there, her usual red blazer missing and her hair falling out of its usual neat ponytail. A moment later she flung her arms around him before pulling him into her room.

“How are you, are you alright? Your screen, that looked painful!” She took his screen in her hands and began turning it back and forth, checking for injuries almost identically to how Alastor had. He took a step back, lowering her hands.

“Wait, how do you know about my screen? It’s fixed.” He drew his eyebrows together in confusion. Charlie’s eyes widened.

“We were watching! In our meeting, we saw the others at the club, and Angel standing up to Valentino, and then you showing up to protect them, we saw it all! But Heaven doesn’t even know what qualifies a soul to go there, so I don’t know if anyone can be redeemed!” She said, seemingly all in one breath, and by the end, tears were rolling down her cheeks and Vox wasn’t sure what to do. He was about to try to comfort her when she continued.

“Then I found out Vaggie’s an angel and Adam said when the next extermination happens he’s coming for us first!” She buried her face in her hands. Her next words were muffled. “I put everyone in danger, and I don’t even know if Heaven will allow redemption.”

Vox stared. That was a lot of information, his processor racing to understand everything she said. Heaven’s entire committee had witnessed him getting punched in the face. Heaven apparently didn’t know shit about what made a soul good or bad. Vaggie was an angel? Well, the angelic spear suddenly made a lot more sense.

Then the last one, the one he decided was the most dire.

“What do you mean ‘Adam is coming for us first’? He’s going to purposefully attack the hotel?”

She nodded, face still buried in her hands.

Fuck, that was bad. That was really bad. After everything that he went through to find Vark a safe place to live, to the hotel eventually becoming a safe place for him as well, only for it to end up on the wrong end of an exorcist blade. After seven years of waiting he finally had Alastor back, they were friends again, and now he was potentially going to lose him all over again, except this time it would be permanent.

He ran a hand down his screen before gently grasping Charlie by the shoulders.

“We have a month, right? So, let’s not panic. I’m sure there’s something we can do. We can’t give up now.”

Charlie looked up from her hands and gave him a small smile.

“Thank you Vox. For the record, if redemption is possible, you’re a very promising candidate. Though I suspect you’d prefer to stay here.” She gave him a conspiring look, a look that said ‘I know something no one else knows’.

Vox sighed and looked away.

“You’re right.” He said. “There is something… some one … that I would like to stay for.” He smiled softly, remembering how Alastor had smiled at him as they danced. “Though I admit the hotel has grown on me. You helped a lot. More than you know. Thank you for that.”

When he looked back at Charlie there were fresh tears streaming down her face. Before he could react she pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. After a moment of unsure hovering he gently hugged her back, and when she pulled away she was smiling.

“I’m really glad you stayed here Vox.” She said, and he could tell she meant more than just staying at the hotel. Then it was his turn to tear up, static tears collecting in the corners of his eyes before he blinked them away.

“Yeah. Me too. I better get going now, it’s been a long day, you know?”

She nodded, still smiling knowingly.

Alastor waited patiently for Vox to finish talking to Charlie, smile wide as he thought over what he had learned. Vaggie was an exterminator, not too surprising considering her favour towards angelic weapons, but unexpected that Charlie hadn’t known. Heaven was stupid, also unsurprising. The next extermination was pointed straight at the hotel, and neither Charlie nor Vaggie knew that angels could be killed, let alone how. His smile widened further. This was an opportunity.

A quiet knock on the door signalled Vox’s arrival, and Alastor immediately opened the door to welcome his friend inside.

“So my dear, what’s the situation?”

Vox took a deep breath.

“Well, apparently Adam and the other exterminators are preparing to attack us in a month’s time, and no one but us and Carmine knows how to kill angels.” He said, and Alastor nodded, that matched with what Vaggie had told the rest of the hotel.

Vox seemed to notice Alastor’s expression then and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you planning? Please, don’t be stupid Alastor, there are beings much more powerful than us involved here.”

Alastor laughed.

“Oh my friend, you know me too well. However I assure you I have thought this through. The chance to make a deal with the princess of Hell should not be missed.”

“Alastor if you try to take her soul her dad will fucking kill you, no matter how short he is, he’s still the king of Hell and technically still an angel!” Vox said, a slightly desperate tone creeping into his voice. Alastor took one of Vox’s hands in his own.

“Don’t worry my dear, I won’t. I’ll let you know how it goes as soon as it’s done. I assure you, I’ll be careful with this one.”

He’d made a mistake once, it wouldn’t happen again. Vox still seemed hesitant, but he nodded, and Alastor’s smile softened. He wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by, not when he had the chance to gain so much. He bid Vox goodnight and settled in to plan his next move.

Chapter Text

“Let’s make a deal! I’ll tell you what I know, and in return you do one favour for me where you harm no one!” Alastor held out his hand, ignoring the growling from the demonic goats as Charlie’s horns made an appearance.

“Fine. It’s a deal.”

They shook, and the sheer power of it shocked him. It wasn’t even for her soul but the deal was certainly one of the most powerful he’d ever made.

(Though not quite the most.)

Seconds later Vaggie burst into the room, shouting something in a mix of english and spanish that he didn’t care enough to listen to. He gestured flippantly to cut her off.

“Oh don’t worry! She still owns her soul. I’m not so foolish as to try anything like that.” He said, and Vaggie put away her weapon, still scowling.

“Now.” His grin widened. “I will tell you what I know. Exterminators can in fact be killed. I have seen it myself. Carmilla Carmine killed one during the last extermination. I suggest you seek further answers from her.” He said, before vanishing into the shadows.

Only ten minutes later there was a knock at his door. Unfortunately it was not Vox’s polite tapping, but rather a rather impatient frantic banging, followed by Charlie’s voice.

“Alastor! I-oh!” She jumped slightly when he opened the door. Clearing her throat, she fiddled with her hands.

“We need more sinners. Heaven has a whole army, we won’t last very long fighting alone. Can you help?” Though he enjoyed to see her pleading him, the request confused him.

“I think this is a question better suited for Vox, my dear. He does have considerable influence over much of the city.” He said, and Charlie cringed.

“Well, I was really hoping to avoid asking him. He’s a guest here and I’m supposed to be helping him, not the other way around. Do you think there’s anyone who would genuinely help us?” She wrung her hands together as she spoke, eyes shining and voice pleading. 

He hummed thoughtfully, considering the question. Then he straightened up, summoning his microphone and taking Charlie’s arm.

“Why don’t you know, I think there may be! An old friend of mine, who might be willing to lend us aid.” He said, leading Charlie towards the front doors of the hotel. As they passed Vox’s door he stopped. They hadn’t had the time to catch up properly at the overlord meeting, and he was sure Rosie would be thrilled to see Vox again. He knocked on the door with his microphone, ignoring Charlie’s questioning look. The confused expression on Vox’s screen when he opened the door was amusing enough.

“What’s going on now? Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did by the way.” Vox said, and Alastor laughed.

“As I am sure I will hear about later. But as for right now we’re on our way to visit an old friend, and I’m sure she’d love to see you again.” He said, smile widening when Vox’s screen brightened in understanding.

“Oh, okay, just let me get my jacket.” Vox started to turn around, but Alastor grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the hallway.

“What you’re wearing now is fine, this is a casual meeting, after all! A nice catch up while the princess asks a favour. Don’t worry so much my friend!”

Vox sputtered slightly as they left the hotel. Alastor restrained his laughter. Vox always had been particular about how people saw him, but this was Rosie. Alastor knew she wouldn’t care, and Vox’s current attire of a button down shirt and sweater vest tucked into dark coloured slacks was far from inappropriate. Next to Alastor’s purposefully tattered coat and Charlie’s slightly messy hair, he was easily the neatest one of them.

Alastor liked that about him. Apart from the screen and his neon claws, Vox looked fairly normal, and Alastor enjoyed the contrast that provided with his own appearance, as Vox often made him look more threatening just by standing next to him. That wasn’t to say Vox wasn’t dangerous, he certainly was, but he hid it well. Alastor’s smile softened. Rosie was like that too. Deadly teeth and claws softened by feathers and ruffles so you almost forgot she was one of the most successful overlords in Hell.

Alastor mostly tuned out Charlie grumbling to herself as they walked, and he and Vox made a game of making silly facial expressions at each other when she wasn’t looking and snapping back to normal when she turned around. Eventually she ran out of things to rant about and began actually looking around.

“So where exactly are we going? I haven’t been in this part of the city much.” She said, and Alastor thought to himself that a princess really should be more familiar with her kingdom, before answering brightly.

“To Cannibal Town my dear! To meet with my dear friend Rosie and ask her for her help.” He gestured dramatically. Charlie’s eyes widened.

“Cannibal Town?” She said, unsure. Vox laughed softly.

“Don’t worry, Rosie’s lovely. Though I expect she won’t be very pleased with me, I haven’t visited in a while.” He grimaced, and Alastor felt the sudden urge to comfort his friend, now that he knew the extent that Vox had struggled during the last seven years. He put an arm around Vox’s shoulders.

“Nonsense my friend! Rosie could never stay mad at you, she’ll just be glad you’ve come to visit!” He said, and the risk of embarrassing himself in front of Charlie was worth it to see Vox’s grateful smile. Upon arriving in Cannibal Town Alastor raised an eyebrow at Charlie’s surprise.

“It’s so nice here!” She exclaimed.

“Why of course, Rosie wouldn’t allow anything less! Not all of Hell is as depraved as the main street, you know!” Alastor said, tone slightly admonishing.

“That’s true. I kept my district pretty clean too, it was just technology. No privacy, but not much murder either.” Vox added, shrugging. Charlie seemed a mix of amazed and hopeful, and Alastor knew she would be taking this as more evidence that her crazy redemption scheme was actually possible. They arrived at the Emporium to a busy scene, crowds of cannibals browsing stock and making small talk between purchases.

It wasn’t long before Rosie spotted them. Alastor swore she had a sixth sense for that kind of thing.

“Alastor? Oh and Vox too! It’s been far too long since you’ve visited. These halls really lost some of their shine without you two! And who’s this you’ve brought with you? Come now Alastor, it’s rude not to introduce guests, you know better than that!” Rosie bustled around them, pulling both Alastor and Vox into a hug before turning to analyse Charlie.

“Come this way, I assume there’s a reason you’ve come, let’s talk in here.” Rosie said, leading the group into her parlour, clearing a platter of pinkies off the table. “If you want anything at all you just have to ask, but I don’t keep anything out when that one’s here.” she pointed to Vox. “Sensitive constitution and all.”

“Hey! It’s gotten better.” Vox objected, but his screen fuzzed with staticky blush and Alastor chuckled softly. Once they were settled Charlie launched into a speech.

“Adam’s coming for the hotel and I don’t know what to do and Alastor said you might be able to help but I don’t see how and we only have a month so please?” She took a large breath in after her rambled outburst. Rosie blinked, dark eyes widening, and Alastor decided to step in.

“Rosie dear, we’ve come to ask if your cannibals will assist us in a fight against the angels. They will of course be rewarded for their efforts. Have you ever tasted angel before?” He said, smile sharp.

Charlie and Vox both paled, though Alastor suspected it was for very different reasons. Rosie hummed thoughtfully, then nodded, her feathered hat swishing.

“Alright, but you’ll have to convince them. They’re a stubborn bunch, and they stick together, so if you want any of them, you’ll have to convince ALL of them. Come on, no time like the present!” Rosie said, before taking Charlie’s arm and leading her out to the pavilion, Alastor and Vox trailing behind. Rosie summoned a megaphone.

“Alright everybody listen up! The princess of Hell is here to talk to ya!” She shouted, and the cannibals gathered around the gazebo, awaiting Charlie’s words. Rosie stepped aside, then seemed to remember something. Alastor had a feeling he knew what was coming.

“There’s one in particular who might be hard to convince-“ She trailed off. Alastor scoffed.

“Ugh. Susan.” He said, ears pinned back, and Rosie nodded.

“Susan. She’s uh, kind of an…”

“Ornery old bitch?”

“Yeah. That.” Rosie said.

“She’s not that bad, she’s alright once you get to know her.” Vox interjected, and Alastor rolled his eyes.

“You only think that because she likes you, my dear. She’s a right bitch to everyone else.” He said. Vox seemed about to protest when Charlie interrupted.

“Okay, I get it. Well, here goes.”

Her pitch left a lot to be desired.

Fucking Susan.

Alastor and Vox watched, both cringing, as Rosie dragged Charlie back inside the Emporium. Vox shook his head.

“You know, for a member of the royal family, you’d think she’d be better at speeches. I get that she was nervous but still, that was… bad.” Vox said, and Alastor had to agree. For all her conviction, Charlie did crumble quickly when faced with pressure. He tapped Vox with his microphone to get his attention.

“Well, if your good friend Susan hadn’t derailed her, perhaps it would have been more compelling.” He grinned as Vox registered the dig, screen brightening.

“It’s not my fault she doesn’t like you! You could try being nice every once in a while! I can’t help that I’m polite, I have media training!” Vox retorted, and Alastor’s grin widened. It was still so easy to goad him into arguments. Good. He’d missed their petty banter.

Charlie sighed.

“I just don’t understand why she would keep something like that from me! She knows I would never hate her or anything like that!”

Rosie sat down beside her.

“Maybe she was afraid. It’s hard to own up to past mistakes. To admit to being someone you aren’t anymore. People make mistakes, but then they learn. She fucked up, that’s for sure. But isn’t that place of yours all about second chances? Maybe she’s looking for redemption too.” Rosie said kindly, and Charlie realised she was right. The cannibal overlord wasn’t anything like what she expected, but she found that she liked Rosie. Charlie smiled softly, fiddling with the shrunken head she’d picked out to give to Vaggie. Rosie laughed softly.

“Look at those two, now there’s an example.” She pointed through the window where Vox and Alastor were seemingly arguing. Both were smiling and looked as though they were trying not to laugh.

“They’ve both made mistakes, done things that hurt each other, but then? They move past it, and they always end up back together. Inseparable from basically day one.” She said. Charlie looked out the window again to see Vox laughing, and Alastor smiling the most genuine soft smile she’d ever seen from him. She turned to Rosie.

“They’re in love, aren’t they? I’ve never seen Alastor smile like that. He told me that on the night he left Vox said he loved him and he said he didn’t feel the same. But he does. I know he does. I’m just not sure if he knows yet.”

Rosie sighed.

“Best to leave that one alone, dear. You won’t get anywhere with them by meddling. Trust me, I know. Now, why don’t you try again with that speech of yours?”

Charlie groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“I just don’t know what to say! I usually express myself by singing, but that never works.” She said, glancing up at Rosie, who smiled.

“It’ll work here. My people love a show, the bigger the performance the better!”

Okay. That she could work with.

Vox stared at Alastor as he handed his microphone to Charlie, who began to sing. Did she even realise the significance of what she’d just been handed?! Alastor’s microphone was how he channeled most of his power, without it he was severely limited, so to give it so freely… Vox smiled. It seemed like Alastor was coming around to the hotel after all.

Charlie did a much better job of convincing the cannibals the second around, helped by a few strategic comments from Alastor, and Vox found himself pulled into the song, dancing with Rosie and Alastor as the crowd cheered Charlie on. By the time she finished it seemed like Alastor’s plan had actually worked and the cannibals would readily assist in a fight against the angels.

Arriving at the front gates of the hotel they met Vaggie, returning from her visit to Carmilla, and behind her were hundreds of boxes of angelic weapons, each stamped with the Carmine logo. Vox could feel the energy radiating through the wooden crates. Charlie and Vaggie reconciled and hugged, and he couldn’t help but glance at Alastor, only to quickly look away when it seemed like he was about to notice. When they got back to the hotel the rest of the residents were still there, much to Charlie’s surprise.

“You all stayed!” She said, eyes shining with tears. Angel Dust, Husk, and Sir Pentious stood together on the balcony, having boarded up the windows and reinforced the walls as best they could.

“Of course we are!” Angel called down. “You thought we were gonna leave and miss all the excitement?”

Once inside they found Cherri Bomb and Niffty carefully measuring gunpowder and constructing bombs, and though Vox was unsure if letting Niffty near explosives was a good idea, the little sinner seemed unusually focused and calm, neatly sorting piles of gunpowder for Cherri to load into the shells. Charlie and Vaggie left for their bedroom, leaving Vox and Alastor in the lobby. After a moment and a shared look, both vanished to their respective rooms.

A few days later they managed to get away from the rest of the hotel residents and met in the radio tower, their chosen safe place for private conversations.

“I know you made a deal with Charlie.” Vox looked at Alastor reproachfully, and the other demon had the gall to merely shrug. Vox rolled his eyes, but internally he was running through all the ways that kind of deal could go horribly wrong. 

“You’re not being sensible, Al. The royal family? That’s above us, and you know that.” He ran a hand down his screen, while Alastor tilted his head curiously.

“Where’s your ambition, my friend? I recall when you arrived here it would have excited you to no end to be owed a favour by Hell’s own princess.” To anyone else, his tone would have sounded mocking, but Vox heard the concern buried underneath. He sighed. 

“I dunno. I mean, I have my business, I’m successful, I’m one of the richest sinners in Hell, but none of that really matters. After a while, I just couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. I don’t understand it myself. Logically, I had everything I needed to be happy, but I just… wasn’t.” He said, not looking at Alastor. He felt the radio static in the room increase slightly, a sign Alastor was thinking carefully. 

“You seem, for lack of a better term, brighter, as of late. I’d say your time at the hotel has been beneficial. Perhaps it’s not so useless after all.”

Vox laughed softly. “I suppose not. But I won’t lie, being around you again has helped a lot. You make me feel, for lack of a better term, alive.” He turned back to Alastor, smiling slightly, and Alastor glanced away, almost flustered. Huh. Vox didn’t think Alastor got flustered. When he responded, his voice was soft, radio filter barely present.

”You make me feel alive too.”

They fell into silence after that, though not an uncomfortable one. It was the kind of silence that spoke of mutual understanding, the kind of silence that came about when words were not needed.

“So,” Vox said, breaking the silence with a quiet huff, “We’re really going to fight heaven. Fuck.” He ran a hand down his screen. Alastor nodded.

“Indeed it seems so. I suppose I shall have to fight with angelic weapons then. A shame, I do much prefer my own powers.” Alastor ran a hand over his microphone as he spoke. A spark went through Vox’s antenna and he frowned.

“How will I fight? I don’t fight close range and all my long distance attacks are electric, my fighting style doesn’t incorporate weaponry. You’ve got your tentacles, they can hold weapons, but I don’t have anything like that.” He said, concern bleeding into his tone. Alastor hummed thoughtfully.

“I’m not sure my dear. Thank you for reminding me of my additional arms, they will be useful for ranged attacks. Though, we’ve seen what your electricity can do to angelic steel, is there any chance it does that to the angels themselves?” He said. Vox furrowed his eyebrows.

“I don’t know. There’s no way to test that anyway, and I don’t want to risk it not working. And no, I’m not going to electrocute Lucifer or Vaggie to test if it works.”

Alastor’s grin dropped slightly.

“You’re no fun.”

“Uh huh. Do you have any other ideas?”

“You could boost me. You’re a powerful demon Vox, and we operate on a very similar wavelength. I’ve been tasked with putting a shield around the hotel, which I can use my tentacles to turn into a weapon. If you lend me power, the shield will be much stronger, and potentially damaging for the angels to touch.”

Vox considered it. It was a good idea, a logical, strategic idea. That didn’t negate the fact that Vox didn’t want Alastor on the front lines if he wasn’t right there beside him. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do about that.

“Fine.” He begrudgingly agreed. “I’ll be inside the hotel channelling power to you. But I will be putting a camera on the roof and if anything happens I’m coming to get you.”

After a moment, Alastor nodded. “An acceptable condition. But nothing is going to happen to me, my dear. You worry too much.”

Vox said nothing. He just thought that if Adam’s power was even a tenth of Lucifer, then Alastor wouldn’t win that fight so easily. Not that he could say that, he knew Alastor wouldn’t accept the idea that he might lose.

The next day he put seven cameras on the roof of the hotel.

Charlie found him up there, painstakingly positioning the cameras so there wasn’t an inch he couldn’t see. He’d been blinded before, and it wasn’t going to happen again. He saw her coming and stood to face her, taking in her determined yet slightly nervous expression.

“Hey Vox. Alastor told me about the plan, for you to boost his shield. I want to thank you, but also… I’ve come to ask for a couple more things.” She paused, and he waited for her to gather her thoughts.

“Do you think your hypnosis would work on angels?”

He stared. “Oh… I don’t know. Never had the opportunity to try it.” He said, shrugging slightly. Charlie’s shoulders sagged a little. Oh, he realised, she’d been hoping he could turn away the angels without a fight. He sighed.

“If I could test it on Vaggie -and it wouldn’t hurt her at all, I promise, then I’ll see what I can do. But it works best for subtle redirection, to control a whole army to just leave, that would be a lot, I’d need to blackout the whole Pride ring for that.” He said, cringing slightly, but Charlie beamed.

“That’s fine! Oh thank you so much! And about the blackout, that’s another thing, I was going to ask if you’d do that anyway, that way the angels won’t be able to see the rest of the city, so they’ll only be coming at the hotel. I don’t want anyone else getting killed.” She said, then hesitated for a moment. Vox was about to ask if there was anything else he could do when she crashed into him, hugging him tightly for a moment before pulling away. He blinked, barely able to react before she was heading back down into the hotel, calling out more thanks as she went.

Vox stood stunned for a moment, then shook his head and went back to positioning his cameras. Once he was satisfied he could see the whole roof and a fair amount of the sky above it, he went to find Vaggie. No time like the present to test if this would work. He found Vaggie and Charlie in the lobby with Sir Pentious, who had several blueprints laid out on a table. Vox cleared his throat.

“Excuse me Vaggie, but Charlie wants to test if my hypnosis works on angels, can I try it on you? It won’t hurt at all.” He said, memory flashing back to their first meeting when she’d pointed her spear directly at his chest. Thankfully she just glanced at Charlie before nodding, then making her way over to him.

“Sure, just don’t make me do anything stupid.” She said, smiling slightly, and he figured that was some kind of joke. He laughed a little, then opened his left eye wide, red sclera swirling as his activated his power. Her eyes went slightly glassy as the hypnosis took hold.

“Walk away.” He said, and she immediately turned and began walking towards the hotel doors. However, the second he stopped actively controlling her, she was blinking back to normal. He sighed.

“Fuck, it doesn’t hold on its own, I’d have to maintain it the whole time, and there’ll be too many of them. Angels are much stronger than the average sinner. Sorry Charlie.” He said, but she shook her head.

“It’s alright, you tried. You’re going to be inside the hotel anyway, so at least if any individual angels get in you can make them leave.” She gave a slightly grim smile. “You and Alastor are our first and last line of defence. I wish it hadn’t come to this.” She said, then smiled softly as Vaggie put a hand on her shoulder. Vox nodded and turned to leave.

The next few weeks were a blur of preparations, and Vox found himself truly busy for the first time in a while. He barely saw Alastor, instead spending much of his time in his room making sure he had good video coverage of the hotel and surrounding areas, or experimenting with spare pieces of angelic steel, hoping that if he could destroy it well enough he would be able to channel that through angels as well, but with no way to test he couldn’t be sure, and most attempts just ended up with him exhausted next to a pile of charred and crumbling metal.

The day before the angels were scheduled to arrive, he mentally flicked through the camera feeds he’d installed around the hotel. The cannibals were armed, each holding an angelic weapon and practicing using them. Angel Dust was polishing an angelic gun on the balcony, Fat Nuggets sleeping at his feet. Husk and Cherri Bomb were talking, seemingly bonding over their explosive weaponry. Sir Penn was putting the finishing touches on what looked like an upgraded version of his airship -Vox silently hoped it was stronger than the last one, and Niffty was helping, handing him tools while the Egg Bois ran around being generally unhelpful. Charlie and Vaggie were talking in hushed voices, he left them to their private conversation.

He flicked through until he felt the familiar buzz of interference, then zapped through that camera, appearing next to Alastor on the balcony overlooking the main lobby.

“So, here we are.”

“So it seems.”

Vox leaned against the railing, arm barely brushing Alastor’s.

“It’s been really nice. Living here, I mean. With you.”

“I agree, my dear.” Alastor’s voice was soft. “I’ve enjoyed it greatly.”

Neither of them voiced their concerns about the coming battle. They watched as the other hotel residents raised their glasses in a toast, and Alastor summoned two glasses of their own.

“To the time we got to spend together.” He said, tapping his glass against Vox’s.

Vox hesitated, and in that moment he knew, that no matter what, he would not let Alastor die. He raised his glass.

“To us.”

Chapter Text

When Vox awoke the next morning, it was to a feeling of dread so strong he almost threw up. As much as they’d prepared, and he tried to be optimistic, he couldn’t keep the worst case scenarios from running through his head. He’d spent a significant amount of time renovating his room, the hotel shifting to accomodate his demands. The walls were now solid concrete, resembling more of a bunker than a hotel room. Most of the furniture was gone, and his radio was tucked away inside a lead safe- the best he’d been able to do on short notice. Vark’s tank had also been removed, the glass, even while reinforced, still deemed too fragile to risk.

After getting dressed and taking a moment to compose himself, he knelt in front of Vark and took the shark pup’s wide head in his hands.

“Okay, Varky, I’ve got a very important job for you. You gotta be brave, okay boy? You need to stay here and guard Fat Nuggets for Angel Dust, and make sure nothing gets to me either. I’m taking care of Alastor, so you’ve gotta take care of me, okay Varky?” He paused, and Vark licked his screen gently, an unusually focused look in his big innocent eyes. Vox felt himself getting choked up.

“You’re such a good boy Vark. The best shark anyone could ever have. You saved me, you know that? You saved my life. I love you Vark, and I’ll see you when this is over. I promise.”

Vox realised a couple tears had fallen when Vark licked them off his screen, and he hastily wiped them away. He smiled at Vark as the shark pup planted himself in the centre of the room, Fat Nuggets tucked away safely behind him. Then he retreated to what used to be the bathroom, now filled with monitors, to prepare for the angels’ arrival.

The time had come. Alastor stood on the roof, ready to activate his shield. He’d reined in his interference at Vox’s request, and as he glanced at the cameras dotted around the rooftop he could almost picture Vox’s nervous grin.

“Just like old times, my dear.” He said. He expected he would receive no response, but then he felt a soft buzzing run through him, the frequency familiar. His smile widened.

He saw the angels as they descended from the sky, and Vox had too, for he felt as his power increased, the electricity comforting and slightly tingling as it mingled with his own power. He felt the strength boost that came from it, that only increased as Charlie gave her signal and he raised his shield. The plan worked perfectly. A few angels were trapped inside, easily picked off by the hotel residents and cannibals on the ground, while Alastor’s tentacles, armed with angelic weapons, took on those still outside. His shield crackled with blue tinged electricity, sparks flying off the outside. He noticed one angel try to strike it with her weapon only to be blown back, and when she righted herself her sword had corroded away to almost nothing. Alastor grinned. They had a chance.

Adam’s strength was not part of the plan. A few solid hits later and the shield crumbled, and Alastor felt Vox’s annoyance through their connection. Annoyance, and under that, fear.

He’d been very strategic when planning this battle. This way, he knew Vox was safe inside the hotel, so he could fight Adam without having to worry. He’d almost lost Vox once, he wasn’t going to risk it again. Calling attention to himself was easy, he was a performer after all.

“Adam! First man, next to die!” He said with false cheer, hoping to goad the angel into anger. Anger led to mistakes.

“Uh, who are you?”

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! Now, I’m about to end your fucking life.” He grinned, and the fight began. Adam was messy, his strikes powerful yet uncoordinated, and Alastor had no issues using mostly evasion and tentacle attacks to further enrage the first man. He could feel Vox’s panic, but ignored it, confident in his abilities, further strengthened by Vox’s support. He attempted to destroy Adam’s weapon but the electricity glanced off, and he wondered for a moment just how hard Vox had to work to force it to channel through. He brushed that thought off. He sent puppets to attack Adam, beginning to taunt him as he evaded his attacks.

“You’re overconfident, unbalanced, and worst of all? You’re sloppy .” He said, sending an onslaught of tentacles racing towards Adam, who took to the sky. The first man was on defence, and they both knew it. Alastor grinned, feeling a further surge of power from Vox. Adam threw off the last of the puppets, before raising his guitar.

“Oh yeah? Well I’m about to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. Because radio is fucking DEAD!”

Alastor blocked the blow with his microphone and was pushed back as he felt the staff snap.

“What just happened? Fuck.”

There was a panicked shout from somewhere to his left. Looking around frantically, he spotted Vox running towards him, then turned to see Adam swinging his guitar. He braced for impact. The impact never came.

The rooftop exploded with light.

Alastor instinctively shielded his eyes, and when the light finally subsided he stared in horror at the scene in front of him. Adam had been blown back, his guitar completely destroyed, and was now barely managing to stay in the sky, the edges of his gold wings charred black. There was electricity crackling around the rooftop and in the air, making all his hairs stand on end. And standing in the middle of the rooftop was Vox.

It was as if time had stopped.

Vox turned around, stumbling slightly, exposed wires sparking and Alastor’s smile dropped.

The right half of his face was gone. Not cracked, glass splintered but overall in one piece, no. Gone. His screen was cut fully in half, with one part still flickering between his face, expression wide eyed, and a blue screen, and the other half laying shattered on the rooftop. Vox reached out a hand, and for a moment Alastor was frozen. Then Vox began to fall and suddenly he was scrambling across the roof, desperate to catch his friend as he collapsed, abandoning the broken halves of his microphone in his panic. He caught Vox as he fell, cradling him to his chest as they both sank to the ground.

Alastor glanced around, heart racing, but they were alone on the roof. His gaze snapped back down when Vox spoke.

“Al-Alastor.” He said, voice broken and glitching. His one remaining eye was wide with pain and fear, electric blue pupil locked on Alastor’s face. Alastor was about to reply when he felt something wet seeping through his clothes. He carefully opened Vox’s jacket.

No. No, no, no, no no nononono.

Vox looked down and his face flickered.

“O-oh. That’s n-not good.”

The gash was deep, spilling bright blue coolant from multiple points, and dark red blood from others. Too much of both, but that wasn’t what made Alastor’s blood run cold. He pressed both hands over the gash, desperate to keep even some of the fluids in as he pulled them both into a shadow portal, but that couldn’t fix what he’d seen.

The metallic shine of mercury as it leaked from Vox’s innermost core.

Charlie watched in horror as the roof of the hotel exploded with electricity and Adam was thrown back. What was Vox doing on the roof?! Was Alastor alright? She snapped back to reality at Vaggie’s shout and dodged an angel’s sword before shooting more fireworks at those still in the sky. She winced slightly as she heard Vaggie pull her spear out of another angel’s body. They both turned to see Adam barely hanging in the sky, his wingtips blackened.

“Woah.” Vaggie said. “Did Vox do that?”

Charlie shrugged, then smacked an angel in the face with her shield as they tried to sneak up on Vaggie.

“I don’t know.” She replied. She nodded to Angel Dust, who gave her a grin before shooting three more angels and sending them crashing to the ground where the cannibals were waiting to finish them off. There was an explosion, then a rumbling sound, and then Charlie saw Pentious’s airship rise from behind the hotel, charging up to fire at Adam, and-

There was a bright golden beam, and the airship was gone.

No. No! She put a hand over her mouth in horror as Adam obliterated the airship with Sir Pentious inside. In less than a second her friend had been lost. She felt her anger build. It was time to end this.

Alastor didn’t know what to do. Now in his radio tower, he kept his hands pressed firmly against Vox’s wound, trying desperately to keep the vital fluids inside even as they stubbornly continued to spill out. The wires coming out of Vox’s head sparked, and he tried to speak, his voice distorted with static.

“Alastor it’s o-okay, but I-”

“Shh please, Vox. It’s going to be alright, you can tell me later okay?” He could feel Vox’s heartbeat through the layers of metal, the pulse slowing as he lost more and more blood. There was a crack in his core, Alastor could feel the metallic cold of the mercury on his hands, as what was meant to be protecting Vox’s brain slowly spilled out. Vox tried again, voice quieter this time.

“N-No. I n-need you t-to know.” He said, the glitches getting worse with each word.

“Alastor.”

The one clear word was like a punch to the chest. Alastor felt tears running down his face, something he hadn’t even thought was possible. He took a shuddering breath, smile wavering.

“You stupid picture box, why did you have to take that blow! Why did you do that?!” He shouted, voice breaking.

“B-because you’re m-my best f-friend.” Vox said, and Alastor froze. Despite the glitches, there was no hesitation. No, this was wrong. This wasn’t how this was meant to go. Alastor glanced down at his hands, at the futile effort he was putting in. He met Vox’s eye, saw the fear in it, and knew that his own eyes reflected that same fear. Vox continued, voice steady despite the glitches.

“It’s o-okay, you know. You’re okay. I’m j-just glad you w-were my friend.” He said, and Alastor was rendered truly speechless for the first time in his afterlife. What could he say? He shook his head, this was all wrong, he wouldn’t let this be the way he finally admitted to his feelings.

“There’s no need for that my dear, we shall continue our friendship long after today.” He said, voice trembling, for what else could he do? After decades of ignoring his feelings he found he couldn’t bring himself to voice them.

“But you should know I’m glad you were my friend too.”

Vox smiled, if only he knew what Alastor had truly meant.

Charlie watched in awe as her dad fought Adam, effortlessly evading his beams as the two flew around, Adam’s burnt wings no match for Lucifer’s speed. That awe quickly turned to terror as one of Adam’s golden beams of power sliced through the hotel. She screamed before her dad caught her, then her eyes widened as she saw Adam coming at them from behind.

“Dad, watch out!”

Anger rising within her, she caught Adam’s fist and her dad swung around, sending Adam crashing to the ground.

“You DARE come at me, and my daughter!? Don’t forget, you’re in my house now, BITCH.” Each word was accompanied by a punch.

Charlie put a hand on her dad’s shoulder, stopping the onslaught.

“Dad! He’s had enough.” She said softly. They backed away from Adam.

When he’d felt the radio tower shudder, Alastor had immediately wrapped his shadows around himself and Vox to attempt to cushion some of the impact. The tower hit the ground and they were thrown slightly, before Alastor quickly righted himself and pressed his hands back against Vox’s wound. To his horror, in the few seconds they’d been absent more mercury had leaked out, and now his fingers were covered in the slick metallic liquid. Vox glitched again, though it sounded more like a cough this time, and Alastor watched with his ears pinned back as his screen dimmed.

“D-don’t worry s-so much.” Vox said, repeating Alastor’s earlier words back to him. “I h-have no r-regrets.”

Alastor shook his head, looking down as he felt one of Vox’s hands come up and rest over his own. Vox’s antenna sparked, and his eye widened slightly.

“Adam’s dead.” He whispered. Alastor’s ears pricked in surprise. Vox smiled.

“We won.” He said. Then his screen faded to black. Alastor panicked.

“Vox? Vox! Come on picture box, stay with me!” He pressed harder on Vox’s wound, and relief washed through him when he realised he could still feel Vox’s heart beating weakly under his hands. That relief was short lived, Vox didn’t have long. Alastor needed help.

Charlie looked around the rubble of the ruined hotel, feeling tears gather in her eyes. It was all destroyed, everything she’d built. She managed a small smile when she saw Angel Dust reunite with Fat Nuggets, the pig appearing out of the rubble unharmed, followed closely by Vark.

Wait.

Where was Vox? She glanced around and realised the rest of the city was blacked out like she’d requested, not a single spark of electricity to be seen. With mounting horror she realised she hadn’t seen any sign of Vox or Alastor since the massive outburst of electricity that burned Adam. Vaggie noticed her distress and came over.

“Charlie? What’s wrong?”

“Has anyone seen Vox or Alastor? Do we know if they’re alright?” She said, and Vaggie frowned, shaking her head slightly.

“Sorry hon, I haven’t seen them.” She said. Charlie wrung her hands. First Pentious, now Alastor and Vox too, what kind of princess was she if her people died because of her actions? She had to fix this.

She gathered everyone together and sent them searching. Husk, Vaggie and Lucifer took to the sky while Angel, Niffty, and Cherri began combing through rubble with Charlie. Vark was helping too, anxiously sniffing around the ruins for any sign of Vox. There was no sign of them.

Charlie sank to the ground defeated. She’d been a fool to let them go against Adam. She should have done better. She was about to call off the search when she heard her dad call out.

“Hey, I found them! Oh, no… Charlie! Come quickly!” He sounded slightly panicked. Something was wrong.

Racing through the ruins, stumbling and tripping over rubble and debris, she joined her dad at the outskirts of the hotel grounds, where she could see the shattered remains of Alastor’s radio tower on the ground. But just in front of that she could just make out a figure coming closer, carrying another person in their arms. Her heart sank. She barely noticed Vaggie land beside her as she broke into a run towards Alastor, only to stop a few feet away, hands over her mouth in shock and horror at the sight in front of her. Alastor’s microphone was nowhere to be seen, and his smile was barely visible, his expression fearful in a way that looked wrong on his face. He wasn’t wearing his coat, and when she forced her gaze downward, she realised it was being used as a makeshift bandage, as cradled in Alastor’s arms was Vox.

Charlie felt herself begin to tremble. Half of Vox’s screen was just… gone, sliced cleanly in two, just barely having missed his neck, the exposed wires that remained sparking weakly, a fading heartbeat. The remaining half of his screen was dark. Then there was his torso. Alastor’s coat had a steadily growing dark patch as more and more fluid leaked out into it, and Charlie could make out the edges of a gash where the material wasn’t wide enough to cover the whole injury. She looked back to Alastor, only to be met with a look of pure desperation.

“Heal him.”

“Alastor… I don’t- I can’t-“

“ Heal him! I’m calling in my favour. You will heal him!” Alastor’s voice distorted, distress and antlers growing. Charlie felt like crying. This wasn’t some small task. How could she fix this?!

No. This wasn’t the time for tears. She straightened up and faced Alastor, who looked seconds away from becoming an eldritch nightmare, and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Bring him over here.” She turned to her dad. “Dad, clear a space please, and I’ll need your help.” She said. He nodded, waving his hand. An area cleared, and she gestured for Alastor to put Vox down. She turned briefly to Vaggie.

“Gather the others, tell them everyone’s accounted for.”

Vaggie nodded and took off, and Charlie returned her attention to the group on the ground. She knelt next to Vox, and Alastor carefully removed his coat. Charlie inhaled sharply as the extent of the injury was revealed, the gash starting from the centre of his chest and extending down towards his left hip. She saw her dad shake his head slightly and grit her teeth. She was not giving up.

Gathering her own power to her hands, she pressed on the wound. At first, nothing happened, and she heard Alastor’s growling static from beside her, though she wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a cry. She tried again, but Vox was like nothing she’d ever seen, the interweaving of mechanical and organic components so different from any sinner she’d encountered before. She pulled back, staring at the mixture of fluids covering her hands, the same mixture that still coated Alastor’s. The bright blue she’d seen before and the dark red the usual sinner blood, but the silvery liquid metal was unfamiliar, though something about it told her that it was important.

The rest of the hotel residents had gathered around by now, watching as she frantically pressed power into Vox’s chest over and over, while his weak sparks became fewer and further between. Tears were running down her face now but she ignored them, focusing instead on the subtle fluttering beats she could still feel from Vox’s heart.

Her dad put his hand on her shoulder.

“Charlie. It’s not working.”

She ignored him, refusing to stop, growing more desperate with each push, until the grip on her shoulder tightened and she was pulled back.

“Charlie.” Lucifer said gently, “It’s too-“

“No!” She cried, fighting her father’s hold. Alastor was still growling, seemingly in shock, and Vox was dying, and she needed to get back.

“I need to help him! I promised!” Her tears were coming quicker now. “He came to me for help and I promised to help him! Please, I can’t let him die!” She sobbed, and her dad softened, taking her hands, uncaring of the mess.

“You’ve done all you can, duckling. Let me help you now.”

She nodded and sat back, Vaggie pulling her into a hug as another sob escaped her. She watched her dad inch closer to Vox, unbothered by Alastor’s growl that was now certainly a threat.

Lucifer, for right now he wasn’t her father, but the king of Hell himself, gathered his own bright gold power, angelic power of the highest purity, before plunging his hands into Vox’s torso and bathing the entire surrounding area with golden light. His horns appeared as he shifted into his fully demonic form, and Charlie had to avert her eyes as the light grew brighter. For minutes they all waited in silence as Lucifer worked to heal each layer of Vox that had been torn through. Eventually Lucifer withdrew his hands and the light subsided. The fluid leaks had been stemmed, and the gash had been sewn closed with white gold thread.

Lucifer sat back, his hands clean.

“I’ve done all I can, but angelic wounds don’t heal easy. I’ve mended most of the physical damage, the rest he should be able to recover from, but it was insanely complex in there. That’s his brain, isn’t it?” He said, and Charlie’s eyes widened, glancing between her dad and Alastor.

Alastor, now back in his regular form, nodded slightly, eyes remaining fixed on Vox. Lucifer hummed.

“I don’t know if there will be mental damage, we can’t be sure until he wakes up. And… about his head, I don’t think I can fix that, unless you have the other piece?”

Alastor shook his head, and Charlie noticed his eyes flickering between regular pupils and radio dials.

“No. It was destroyed with the hotel. But…” He glanced aside, ears pinned back, seeming almost embarrassed. “I may have something that can help.”

Charlie watched as Alastor opened a swirling shadowy void and reached in. He pulled out a large boxy object that he handled very carefully as he set it down next to Vox. She realised suddenly what it was.

An old TV.

After having to sit and watch while Lucifer healed Vox, Alastor was glad to be able to do the next part himself. He’d seen Vox fix himself enough times that he was confident he knew what he was doing as he slowly and carefully detached the shattered remains of Vox’s head from his neck, switching each component off and disconnecting every wire with the utmost precision. Decades of expertly dismembering bodies had trained his hands to be as steady and precise as any surgeon, and he put all of that into practice, on what was possibly the most important procedure of his afterlife.

He wasn’t sure why he’d kept Vox’s old head. A rare moment of sentimentality, but one he was now exceedingly grateful for as he manoeuvred the old box TV into the correct position and began the arduous task of connecting it to Vox’s body. It went smoothly, the wires lining up perfectly, and he allowed himself a small smile. This was Vox’s natural form after all, the one he originally had when he materialised in Hell. Despite Vox wanting to be better, newer, Alastor always preferred the older TV model. It was charming, and it was so much easier to be close to Vox when there were less sharp edges. He finished attaching the TV to Vox and held his breath as he waited for any sign that his efforts had been worth it.

A spark jumped between Vox’s antenna.

Alastor’s heart leapt and his smile widened. He heard Charlie release a sob and saw her embrace Vaggie, silent tears also falling from the angel’s one eye. Angel Dust blew his nose loudly on Husker’s wing, and the feline didn’t say a word, only extended the feathered appendage further towards the spider. Niffty was bawling. Even Cherri Bomb seemed emotional, though Alastor noticed Pentious was suspiciously absent.

Alastor made eye contact with Lucifer.

“Thank you.”

The king of Hell shrugged, smiling slightly.

“Hey, for a sinner he seems like a decent guy. It was the least I could do.”

Alastor’s attention was then brought to Charlie as she sniffled loudly.

“I’m so sorry Alastor! This is all my fault! If I had done better then none of this would have happened!” She cried, and Alastor wasn’t sure what to say. He slowly shook his head, glancing down at Vox.

“The hotel saved his life. You saved his life. You also made me realise just how foolish I’d been.” He said softly, before carefully gathering Vox’s limp body into his arms again. The usual buzzing static the TV demon gave off was absent, replaced by the faintest trace of a signal, but it was enough. Vox was alive. Charlie wiped her tears away but didn’t get up.

Lucifer stepped in.

“Hey, look at it this way. In the last ten thousand years, you’re the first to make a real change. I believe in you, and so does everyone else here. Sure, the hotel is in ruins, but Charlie! You can’t give up now, the show must go on!” He said, reaching out a hand. The other residents gathered around her, all encouraging.

She took Lucifer’s hand. Alastor smiled.

The hotel was rebuilt much faster than Alastor had expected, but he supposed that was the result of having the king of Hell lend a hand. Combined with Charlie’s and small amounts of his own magic, construction was finished by the end of the day. It was even bigger than before, but Alastor hardly took the time to appreciate it. As soon as it was finished he’d retreated to his designated room, located on the top floor with a new radio broadcasting tower attached, gently setting Vox down on the bed and settling himself in an armchair to wait for him to wake up.

Outside the hotel, the rest of the city remained powerless, and yet no fights broke out, the citizens of Hell still on edge after the failed extermination. Alastor wondered how long that would last, especially without power. The radios still worked, Alastor made sure of that, broadcasting an announcement so everyone knew what had occurred at the hotel, though he was purposefully selective with the information he released. His broadcast had mostly been him praising Niffty for her defeat of Adam, combined with prideful boasting of the fact that it was his thrall that had been the end of the first man. Another result of said broadcast was that all of Hell now knew the radio demon was alive and well and strong enough to produce a radio show mere days after fighting Adam himself. The message in that was clear: the hotel was far from defenceless, and Alastor was not to be trifled with.

He didn’t mention Vox’s condition. It hadn’t changed in the few days it had been since the battle, and Alastor wasn’t about to advertise the fact that there were any vulnerabilities to be exploited. Vox may not have souls looking to be free of him, but Alastor knew he had made enemies of his past coworkers over the past months, specifically Valentino, given that he had fried the moth’s other antenna and stolen his favourite porn star.

As much as he broadcasted the opposite, Alastor himself was vulnerable. Losing his microphone was a significant hit to his powers and he wouldn’t be able to replace it unless he was able to boost his own power first somehow. Not that it mattered as long as he was in the hotel. With Lucifer handing around it would be suicide to think of attacking it or any of the residents. That wasn’t even accounting for Vaggie, their own angelic guard, and Charlie herself, who had decided since losing Sir Pentious- Alastor had been almost impressed by the snake’s sacrifice- and almost losing Vox that anyone who wanted to harm the hotel would go through her first, and Alastor had heard she put up a fair fight herself against Adam, doing more damage than he himself had managed to.

All that is to say, Alastor knew he was safe. With safety came boredom. He’d barely left his room in the week it’d been since the hotel was rebuilt, instead spending all hours of the day nestled in the armchair in the corner, watching. Watching and waiting.

Alastor sighed as he heard scratching at the door. There were two options. It was either Niffty coming again to insist he let her clean the room, which he politely refused every time, or it was Vark wanting to see Vox. He wasn’t sure what to do about the land shark, and its more doglike attributes unsettled him somewhat. It was also a large animal, and he wasn’t sure if it would be rough with Vox, something he didn’t want while the other was still recovering from an almost fatal injury. After the scratching did not subside he sighed again, gesturing warily to open the door.

Vark padded in, unexpectedly calm from what Alastor had previously seen of the easily excitable animal. The shark looked at Vox in a way that seemed about as sad as a shark could look before turning to Alastor and dropping something at his feet. Alastor eyed the slobber-covered mess of broken wood with mild disgust until he realised what it was.

Vox’s radio. The one Alastor had given him that he’d kept in pristine condition for over sixty years, even while Alastor was away. Vox had put his radio in what he thought was a safe place, inside a cupboard in his hotel room, next to Vark’s tank, assuming the inside of the hotel would be spared from the attack. Alastor’s smile faded slightly at the sight of it. It hadn’t escaped his notice that when Vox was packing things to bring with him to live at the hotel, the radio had been more or less the only personal item he’d packed, the rest was necessities such as clothing or technology that he required to function.

Alastor tutted. It wouldn’t do to have Vox wake up only to discover his most treasured possession had been destroyed. He nodded to Vark.

“Thank you for bringing this to me. You’re not so bad, as far as pets go.”

Vark’s tail wagged happily as he turned and left the room. Alastor shut the door, physically this time, before gently picking up the radio and snapping his fingers to clean the shark slobber off of it. Humming softly, he smiled. A project was the perfect thing to remedy his boredom while he waited. He materialised a workbench and took a seat.

He started by taking what was left of the  radio apart, separating the bent and twisted parts from those that still worked, cutting the splintered wood from the salvageable parts, not unlike how he’d carefully removed Vox’s shattered head from his neck only a week ago. The memory shook him slightly and he retracted his hands. He glanced back at Vox but as usual there was no change, his faint static was steady, accompanied by the soft hum of his vent-based breath.

He turned back to the radio, eyes narrowed. He may not be able to fix Vox, but he could fix this, and he’d be double damned if he let this get to him. He’d built this radio once, he could certainly do it again.

Alastor tapped the table as he waited for Vox to arrive. He was technically early, their reservation wasn’t until 7, but nobody was going to tell the radio demon to leave if his table wasn’t ready yet. A couple threats and he was being seated in a more expensive area than they’d originally booked.

He spotted Vox and waved him over, and as soon as he’d sat down Alastor pushed the box over the table towards him. Best to get it out of the way. Vox’s surprised expression made it worth it.

“You got me a gift? Alastor, you didn’t have to do that!”

“But of course I did! Your ten year anniversary of being in Hell isn’t something that happens every day! Go on, open it.” He gestured at the box, which Rosie had helped him wrap, the task much better suited to her deft fingers than his sharp claws. He may have been precise, but paper tore easily.

Vox peeled back the wrapping and opened the box, before carefully lifting out an ornate wooden radio, finely carved details surrounding delicate brasswork. He ran his hands over the carvings.

“Alastor it’s beautiful. Did… did you make this?” He looked up, and Alastor nodded.

“I did. I simply couldn’t let you keep using the one you have now, the sound quality is dreadful! This one will serve you much better.” He smiled, and Vox returned the gesture.

Later, Alastor, being the gentleman he was, walked Vox home. Despite the fact that they could both teleport, the simple act of walking together was enjoyable, and the night was pleasant. They arrived at the tower Vox had built to house both his technology production company and himself, and Vox turned to Alastor with a smile, the radio held carefully in his hands. He seemed nervous, but Alastor couldn’t think why he would be.

“I’d like very much to kiss you right now, if you’d let me.”

Oh. Oh no. Alastor froze, smile sharpening. That wasn’t good. Kissing was romantic, and romance always lead to more than he was willing to give. A kiss may seem innocent but people always wanted more, his past experiences evidence enough. He didn’t want that.

“No.” He said coldly, then softened slightly when Vox took a step back.

“Goodnight Vox.” His tone was softer this time, and Vox smiled slightly.

“Goodnight Alastor. Thank you again for the radio. I really like it.”

As Alastor walked home that night, he wondered for a moment if Vox would have demanded more, or if he would have stopped when told ‘no’.

Thinking back, maybe he should have taken the chance. He finished separating out the unsalvageable parts of the radio out and set them aside for Niffty to clean out later, just to give her something to tidy up in his room. Then he took stock of what he had, making a mental list of the parts he would need to make replacements of. That was the quick part of the process. Parts summoned, he began construction. The pieces clicked together satisfyingly as each little component lined up and every panel slid into place.

Now that it once again looked like a radio, rather than a pile of firewood, he could begin on the carvings, the part that required actual care and effort. Making something was easy, but making something beautiful, that was a challenge, and maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get a second chance, and be able to rectify that missed opportunity from all those years ago.

It took him two weeks to finish remaking the radio. Most of the inside components he’d been able to salvage and reuse, but many of the outer panels had been shattered beyond repair and had needed to be replaced. At least it had given him the opportunity to redo the carvings, and he was able to fix a couple of minor details he hadn’t been fully satisfied with on the original. Hopefully Vox wouldn’t mind the slight changes.

Not that he was awake to notice them yet. Vox was still unconscious, and the streets of Pentagram City remained dim, the electricity supplied by Lucifer softer and warmer toned compared to Vox’s bright power. Alastor was becoming more anxious as the days passed. Vox had lost a lot of blood, but worse than that, his inner core had been damaged, and there was no way of knowing if the delicate circuits that made up his brain had also taken a hit. Alastor kept repeating Lucifer’s words in his head.

“ We can’t be sure until he wakes up .”

As soon as the radio was finished he’d turned it on, smiling softly when it began playing gentle music, the tone clear and bright, as if it had never been broken. If anything it was better than before, his experience and care greater this time, and he decided to leave it on, playing songs from the early 50’s no matter what his usual station was playing. That way, no matter what time, when Vox awoke it would be to something familiar.

Alastor tapped his fingers on the bar, wishing he was upstairs in his room, where he could see Vox with his own eyes, rather than merely relying on the soft buzzing static he could feel in the back of his mind. The only reason he wasn’t up there was that Niffty had discovered he hadn’t been eating and went crying to Charlie, who then forced him to come down to the lobby and ‘take care of himself’. He scoffed, he was the radio demon, a powerful overlord, one of the most powerful sinners in Hell, he didn’t need to be babysat.

But he had to admit he had been hungry.

One quick hunt later and he was satisfied, while the rest of the hotel was mildly disturbed. However, he was not able to immediately retreat back to his room due to Niffty’s teary stare and Charlie’s raised eyebrow of disappointment. Normally he would sidestep her with ease and go on his way, but since the loss of his microphone his teleportation had been hit or miss, and with Lucifer lurking in his peripheral vision he decided it was best to not piss off the princess.

That left him sulking at the bar, glaring at anyone who looked at him and resisting the urge to strangle Husk every time the bartender chuckled at his displeasure. At least his unimpressed looks served to remind everyone why he wanted to be upstairs, then they all looked slightly guilty, but still Charlie insisted he stay for a while longer to get ‘fresh air’ which he thought was stupid since none of the air was really fresh in Hell, because it was Hell.

His thoughts remained fixed on Vox, upstairs alone, and he focused on the faint signal he could feel radiating out from his room. His own static was also radiating, the low growl of angry radio filling the lobby as he sat at the bar, refusing to admit the fact that he was pouting. He was still smiling of course, but it was strained, not reaching his eyes and certainly not genuine. Alastor was fine, so he didn’t understand why he was being kept down here while Vox was upstairs injured. He was preparing to send another particularly venomous glare at Husk when he froze, entire body stiffening and ears pricking up.

Something had changed in the air.

An almost imperceptible shift, the slightest hitch in the previously steady hum of static, a tiny uptick in the frequency of the wave. Alastor made eye contact with Lucifer and in that moment knew that the king had felt it too. The next moment he was moving.

In his haste he didn’t even try to teleport, instead frantically scrambling towards the staircase, feeling all at once startlingly similar to the animal he resembled as his hooves skidded on the carpet, the stool he’d been perched on clattering to the ground behind him. He took the staircase three steps at a time, long legs meaning he could move fast when he wanted to, and right now nothing was more important than getting upstairs. He vaguely registered others following him but paid them no mind, all that mattered was that he got to Vox as fast as physically possible, because if he felt what he thought he did, then he needed to be there.

He almost slid past his room entirely, barely managing to catch the doorframe and swing himself into the room, only to come screeching to a halt, the rest of the hotel coming face to face with a closed door as he slammed it shut behind him. He stood still, breathing heavily after his panicked sprint, staring at Vox, who remained motionless. He took a hesitant step forward, past the radio that was still dutifully playing soft jazz music.

“Vox?” Alastor whispered, ignoring the knocking sounding from outside the door. He took another step then paused when he felt the static increase, Vox’s signal strengthening. “Vox, can you hear me?” He said softly, reaching the bed and scanning Vox carefully for any sign of response. For a moment, everything was still.

The lights flickered. When they stopped, they were ever so slightly brighter than before. A switch had been flipped. The soft whirring of Vox’s fans picked up, and Alastor’s ears twitched, automatically zeroing in on the sound. There was another hum then, and a spark jumped between Vox’s antenna.

His screen flickered on. Alastor stood tense and silent, as if the slightest sound would send everything crashing down, and watched as text scrolled across Vox’s screen, moving too fast for him to read. The next moment the text vanished and his screen dimmed to its usual soft blue, the outlines of his eyes and mouth now visible. Alastor reached out a hand.

“Vox? Come on, my dear, come back to me.” He pleaded, voice barely more than a whisper and radio static almost nonexistent. After a moment he sighed, turning away. He crossed the room and leaned on the desk, staring at the radio as it continued to sing softly. The knocking on the door had stopped, leaving the radio as the only sound. Frustration filled him and he gestured, intending to turn it off, but stopped as he recognised the song. It was the song he and Vox had danced to, on that quiet night in the hotel, before they’d known of the battle that had been ahead. That felt like so long ago.

He switched off the radio, hanging his head in defeat.

“Alastor?”

Chapter Text

“Alastor?”

Alastor’s head whipped around so fast there was an audible crack, and his eyes widened at what he saw. Vox’s eyes were open, and he was looking at Alastor, a drowsy expression on his face. Within seconds Alastor was beside him, smiling genuinely for the first time since the battle.

“Hello my dear. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.” He said softly, relief seeping through in his tone. He found he didn’t care, gently taking Vox’s hand in his own. All that mattered was that Vox was awake. His picture box was awake.

The first thing Vox registered was music. The second was pain, so he decided to focus on the first. He felt like he knew the song from somewhere but he couldn’t quite place it, the memory eluding him. Then he felt something else, something warm and familiar, something that made him feel safe. There might also have been a voice saying something, but he couldn’t make it out.

As more and more of his systems came online he felt his senses sharpen, then the familiar sensation of linking to the power grid, the buzz of feedback that came from sharing his power. He felt his fans pick up as his output increased. Still he remained focused on the music, as he felt more than heard it, and it grounded him. He felt his screen come online, and vaguely recognised that something felt different, but everything was working so he decided to ignore it. The aching pain was stronger now, enough that he was aware of it but not so much that systems were flashing warnings. That was strange. He tried to keep his focus on the music, as well as the comforting signal he could feel, as the final calibrations were run and his circuits organised themselves.

When his visual sensors finally switched on and he opened his eyes, he was met with the colour red. But not the red of Hell’s sky, no, a darker red, almost burgundy, painted across a ceiling that was lined with wood trim. Where the fuck was he? The realisation that he was laying on what felt like a bed came shortly after the realisation that he was inside, and despite the room being unknown there was something about it that was so familiar it almost hurt. The music suddenly vanished, and without it he became more aware of the ache he felt. He glanced around, desperate for answers, and his gaze landed on something- or rather someone, and everything came rushing back, protecting the hotel, the fight with Adam, his desperate attempt to save the person he loved more than anything.

“Alastor?”

He barely registered the speed at which Alastor moved until the deer demon was beside him, holding his hand tightly and looking as if he were moments away from crying, even as he smiled.

“Hello my dear. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.” Alastor said, and the relief in his tone was palpable. Vox glanced around before his gaze settled on Alastor. A tired grin stretched across his screen.

“You look like shit… ’S good to see you too.” Vox said, voice cracking slightly from lack of use. Alastor’s smile widened.

“Ridiculous picture box.” He said fondly. “You also look terrible.”

Vox huffed, rolling his eyes even as he laughed softly. “Prick”

“Clack-box.”

Vox grinned, that was the Alastor he knew. Now more certain that he was not in fact double dead, he took another look around the room, struck once again by a sense of familiarity.

“By the way, where are we?” He said, glancing around the room that he now realised looked a lot like Alastor’s room at the hotel. But that didn’t make any sense.

“We’re in the hotel, my dear, in my room.”

“But…how? The hotel was wrecked, your tower fell off the roof. Has it been fixed already?”

Alastor laughed.

“Oh no, the old hotel was completely obliterated. It’s been rebuilt, as good as new. Don’t worry, your pet is fine, nobody was hurt when the hotel was hit.” He said, answering Vox’s questions before he had the chance to ask them. But then he began to wonder, if the hotel had been completely rebuilt, how long had he been out?

“Alastor, how long has it been since the battle?” He said, and Alastor looked away, ears pinning back briefly. That alone told Vox he probably wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

“A month. You had me worried for a bit there, my dear.” Alastor said, then he sobered slightly, his grip on Vox’s hand tightening. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to wake up. Your injuries were… extensive.” Alastor said, and he looked so tired in that moment that Vox wasn’t sure what to say. He tried to sit up, only to immediately regret his decision when pain blossomed in his torso.

“Ow, oh fuck.” He groaned, hand coming up to his chest where the worst pain was. Alastor’s eyes widened in alarm.

“What are you doing?! You idiotic picture box, you’ll hurt yourself! Let me help you, before you injure yourself further.” Alastor gently hooked his arm around Vox’s shoulders and slowly pulled him upright so he was leaning against the headboard. Vox’s vision swam slightly and he put a hand to his head, which was distinctly heavier than he remembered.

“Ugh, why is my head so heavy? It hasn’t felt this way since…“ He trailed off when he realised what felt different about his screen. Alastor looked slightly embarrassed.

“Your screen was unable to be fixed, so it had to be replaced. I… happened to have one that I knew would work.” He said, blushing slightly. Vox grinned.

“You kept my old head. Why did you do that?” He said, the genuine question layered under a slightly teasing tone. Alastor huffed.

“I liked it, I’ll have you know. It’s what you looked like when we met.” His voice went quiet at the end, and Vox’s grin softened.

“Well I’m grateful, because it seems like it came in handy. So, if you replaced my head, then what about the rest?”

“Lucifer.” Alastor rolled his eyes, but his tone was appreciative. “He healed most of the damage, but not all of it. The gash on your chest was stubborn.”

Vox nodded, glancing down at his torso, where he could see bandages peeking out from under his clothing. Clothing he didn’t remember owning.

“What the fuck am I wearing?”

“Pyjamas. Niffty picked them out for you, she wanted to help. It was my Niffty that finished off Adam by the way, stabbed him right through.”

Vox looked up from the shark-patterned pyjamas at that. “Niffty killed Adam? Huh. Good for her.”

Alastor laughed softly, and Vox smiled. He wondered briefly what else he’d missed from the end of the fight, but his attention was drawn back to Alastor as he squeezed his hand. When he looked up the deer demon wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Hey, what’s on your mind now?” He said softly, and Alastor’s ears flicked, a nervous tell Vox knew he usually did his best to hide. “Don’t go shy on me now, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing is wrong my dear, there’s just… something I feel I should tell you, something I probably should have told you a while ago.” Alastor paused, and Vox could feel how tense he was, and he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Alastor surging forward and embracing him, carefully avoiding his injury.

“I… you are my very best friend Vox. I care for you very much.” Alastor said quietly, and though his voice was muffled by his position pressed into Vox’s shoulder, the words were the clearest Vox had ever heard.

He sat still for a moment, before slowly bringing his hands up to return the hug, one hand resting on the back of Alastor’s head. He melted into the embrace, scratching the base of Alastor’s ears gently, an action that made the deer demon bleat quietly. Vox felt Alastor relax, and then continue speaking softly, voice muffled somewhat but still audible.

“I’m so sorry if you didn’t know just how much I care about you, I should have told you, but you almost died and I suddenly found I couldn’t speak. You mean so very much to me and I’d never have forgiven myself if you’d died without knowing that. Please forgive me.”

Vox pulled back, taking Alastor’s hands, smiling brightly.

“I’m afraid I can’t, because there’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t die, and I can honestly say I don’t plan to.” He smiled, realising how far he’d come in six months. “But I’d take a thousand angelic attacks to hear you say that again.” He said, and Alastor laughed softly.

“That certainly won’t be necessary, my dear.” He said, tone slightly reproachful. Vox blushed, at both the slight reprimand and the fond look that came with it. Alastor’s smile was as soft as he’d ever seen it. “I care very deeply about you. Though I suppose… I always have. Even if I was too proud to realise it.” Alastor glanced away, but Vox, in a moment of still-drowsy boldness, put a hand on his cheek and turned him back. He looked at Alastor seriously, bright blue meeting deep red.

“Alastor, listen. I care about you too, in fact, out of all the demons I could have befriended, I’m so grateful it was you.” He said, then grinned when he realised Alastor was blushing. He’d made the feared radio demon blush. Alastor sighed, smile returning.

“I think you’ll find that the feeling is mutual, my dear. That’s enough for now, we can talk more once your boxy brain is firing at full capacity, you silly podcast.”

Vox recognised the deflection even as he laughed. “You know very well my brain isn’t in my head, you old-timey prick.” He said fondly, laughing softly as Alastor grinned wide at the returned teasing.

They’d be alright. Of that, Vox was certain.

Chapter Text

The feeling in the room was calm for the first time since the battle. Alastor’s smile was relaxed, but Vox could tell his friend was still slightly on edge.

“So,” He said, attempting to ease the tension, “should we go down and see the others? Show everyone I am in fact alive?”

Alastor looked affronted, smile almost vanishing. “You can’t be serious. You’re in no condition to be walking around, you just woke up!” He gestured to Vox’s bandaged torso. Vox winced.

“Can’t I just quickly stretch my legs? I feel fine, I promise.”

Despite Alastor’s continued protests, Vox’s stubbornness won out, and they were soon walking down to the lobby to see the rest of the hotel residents. If Alastor had been worried about him he didn’t even want to think about how worried Charlie had been, and he wanted to thank Lucifer for technically saving his life. Vox knew how badly he’d been hurt, enough that he’d been leaking mercury, and by an angelic weapon no less, meaning that he wouldn’t have been able to recover on his own. He wasn’t sure exactly how close he’d been to dying permanently, but judging by the lingering ache in his chest, it was much too close for comfort.

The reunion was sooner than expected. Charlie was waiting in the hallway outside Alastor’s room, sitting on the floor next to a balcony door. She leapt up with an excited gasp when she spotted them walking towards her, Alastor supporting Vox as they went. She came running to meet them, almost embracing Vox before stopping herself, mindful of his still healing injury.

“Vox! You’re awake! Oh it’s so good to see you, I’m so glad you’re alright!” She said brightly, but then her smile wavered. “Well, mostly alright.” She glanced away, but he just laughed softly. Then he winced, one hand going to his chest. Fuck, even laughing hurt now.

“Yeah.” He said, grimacing slightly. “Mostly alright. Though I suppose I have you and your father to thank for that. Is he around? I’d like to thank him for healing me.” He said, glancing around the hallway but finding no sign of Lucifer. Charlie mirrored the gesture.

“Um, he was here a minute ago…”

As she spoke the balcony doors swung open and Lucifer walked inside.

“Speak of the devil.” Alastor muttered.

Lucifer was talking to someone on the phone, his expression shifting from annoyance to joy when he spotted Vox.

“Hey, Battery’s awake! Yeah, I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later Oz, yes, everything’s fine, okay goodbye!” He hung up the phone and came to greet them, stopping a fair distance away when Alastor’s radio static increased in volume. Vox nudged him gently, but Lucifer didn’t seem to care.

“Good to see you up and about Battery, but why are you already powering Hell?”

At that, Alastor swiveled his head around to stare at Vox disapprovingly. Vox glanced away. Lucifer powered on.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sins are all very pleased they no longer have to worry about powering their rings, but are you sure you’re up for it? It was quite the hit you took.” Lucifer seemed almost concerned. Vox shrugged sheepishly.

“It’s automatic at this point, really. I’ll probably just need to sleep a little more than usual. Oh, and I wanted to thank you, your majesty, for healing me.” He bowed slightly, as much as he could with Alastor still holding him. “I think it’s safe to say you saved my life.”

Lucifer laughed awkwardly, giving Vox a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Hey, no problem. It was mostly Charlie, anyway. You know, for a sinner, you’re not that bad.” He said. “Between you and the snake guy, I’d say Charlie did pretty well with the whole redemption thing.” Lucifer looked at Charlie fondly, but Vox was stuck on something he said.

“The snake guy? You mean Pentious? What about him?” He said, and was met with solemn silence. He knew he must have missed something, and Charlie stepped forward, head bowed.

“Sir Pentious was killed by Adam during the battle. He sacrificed himself trying to protect the hotel.” She said quietly, and Lucifer placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. Vox felt Alastor’s hold on him tighten slightly.

“Killed, like permanently?” Vox asked quietly, and Charlie nodded. Oh shit. They’d actually lost someone. No wonder Alastor was so worried about him, after seeing what Adam was clearly capable of. Vox found himself again realising how easily he could have died. The ache in his chest seemed to become more prominent, a reminder of what almost was. Charlie sniffled and stood up straight.

“He’ll be remembered as a hero.” She said, then brightened. “Now, come down and see the others, they’ll be so glad to see you awake!”

They walked down to the lobby together, their pace slow to account for Vox, who stubbornly insisted he could walk on his own even while leaning heavily on Alastor. By the time they reached the ground floor he was trembling slightly from the effort. It frustrated him, the fact that even walking was a challenge now, and just the short distance from Alastor’s room to the lobby made his chest ache worse than before. Why the fuck did using his legs make his chest hurt? He had no idea, but it was incredibly uncomfortable. Alastor supported him to the bar where he sat down on a stool, leaning back against Alastor who remained standing. He gave Husk a tired smile, which the feline took as his invitation.

“Hey kid, it’s good to see you up and about. How’s the head?” He said, a slight tease in his tone. Vox huffed, but he was still smiling.

“Heavy. But hey, it’s in one piece so I can’t complain.” He said. Husk chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Glad you’re alright. I’ve come to like you, and you make him easier to deal with.” The bartender pointed at Alastor, who held his hands up in feigned innocence. Vox laughed softly.

“Well, it’ll take more than Adam to get rid of me. Heard Niffty took him out. Where is she?”

“Here! I’m here! I stabbed the angel!” Niffty’s voice called out, and Vox turned to see Angel Dust approaching, the smaller sinner held in two of his arms. She was waving excitedly, squirming in the spider demon’s careful grasp.

“Woah Nif!” Angel said, adjusting his grip. “If you keep wriggling I’m gonna drop ya! There you go.” He deposited her on a stool and accepted a drink from Husk as he sat down himself. Niffty jumped up on the bar, ignoring Husk’s protests, and stood in front of Vox.

“I’m really glad you’re not dead, we just got you back! And Alastor would be really sad.” She said, before pulling something out of the pocket of her dress. She held it out until Vox realised she wanted him to take it, and when he put his hand out she dropped a small glass bottle of golden liquid that Vox quickly realised was angelic blood. He paled slightly, glancing between Niffty and the bottle in his hand.

“Is this Adam’s?” His asked hesitantly, and she nodded proudly.

“I saw an angel, so I stabbed him!”

Nodding slowly, Vox handed the bottle to Alastor, who silently took it and tucked it inside a small shadow portal. Vox smiled at Niffty.

“Thanks Niffty, that’s a very special gift. And I haven’t seen any bugs in the hotel since I woke up so you must be doing a great job with that too.” He said, and the small sinner beamed, her eye shining. Then she giggled to herself as she hopped down from the bar and ran away. Once she was gone, Angel spoke up.

“Nice pyjamas.” The spider gestured at Vox, who was still wearing shark patterned clothing, and grinned. “Did Smiles pick them out?”

Alastor laughed quietly.

“Oh no, that would be Niffty’s input. Little darling wanted to help.” He said, and Angel nodded. “Alright that tracks. Seriously though, it is good to see ya Vox. In one piece, ya know?”

Vox nodded. He got the feeling Angel still wasn’t great at genuine expressions of emotion, hell, he wasn’t either, so he just smiled. “It’s good to be in one piece. I very much enjoy being in one piece.”

Angel laughed openly at that, Husk chuckling from behind the bar.

There was only one thing missing.

“By the way, has anyone seen Vark? I know you said he was alright, but I’d like to see him for myself, you know?” He said, glancing between Alastor and the others. Angel nodded, raising two arms to his mouth and letting out a piercing whistle. A moment later there was a loud barking and then Vark was bounding into the room, Fat Nuggets trotting close behind him. When Vark spotted Vox his excitement multiplied, and he immediately beelined for him, stopping just moments before crashing into him.

“Hey, Varky!” Vox grinned, carefully lowering himself to embrace the shark pup. Vark licked his screen happily, but was surprisingly restrained and gentle compared to his usual excited nature. After he’d licked every inch of Vox’s screen, Vark nuzzled in under his chin and huffed happily. Vox patted him slowly, running his hands over Vark’s velvety skin.

“I’m so glad you’re alright. You did such a good job, you’re such a good boy.”

Vark wagged his tail happily as Vox straightened up, then curled up underneath the barstool Vox had returned to sitting on. Vox blushed slightly as he realised everyone was watching, but thankfully Angel broke the silence, gesturing to Vark.

“He and Nugs have been basically inseparable since the battle. Don’ worry, I been takin’ good care of him.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what I would do if he wasn’t alright.” Vox glanced down at where Vark was lying relaxed under his chair and grinned.

“He’s just too damn cute.” He said, and Angel laughed, nodding along.

One moment Vox was smiling and laughing along with them and the next it felt as though there wasn’t enough air coming through his vents. Everything felt slightly fuzzy and he shook his head to try and clear the strange coloured spots flashing across his vision. He felt Alastor move closer to him as Husk leaned forward.

“Hey, you okay kid? Your screen’s gone all snowy.” Concern bled through his casual tone, and Vox tried to wave him away.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a little-“

Vox trailed off, then felt Alastor gently place his hands on his shoulders and turn him around. His ears were pinned back and he was saying something, but Vox couldn’t make it out through the static filling his ears. Everything was blurry now, his vision a mess of swirling colours and staticky snow. He couldn’t move, his limbs locked and his processor lagging. The last thing he saw was Alastor frantically grabbing him as he pitched sideways off his chair.

Alastor realised something was wrong when Vox went quiet suddenly. Husker expressing concern only confirmed it, and when Vox couldn’t even finish a sentence his worry increased. Turning Vox around to be met with a vacant expression made his ears pin back. It was as though Vox was looking at him but not really seeing, and when he spoke there was no reaction.

“Vox? Can you hear me? Can you say something?”

Vox just stared at him as his screen became more and more fuzzy, and Alastor was gripped with panic as he realised how powerless he felt, unable to help the one he loved.

Then Vox fell off his chair. Alastor lunged to catch him and laid him gently on the floor, thankful he was able to shield Vox’s screen from smashing on the ground. He knelt down beside Vox, whose screen was now flashing between coloured bars and buzzing static, the energy making all of Alastor’s hair stand on end. His hands hovered anxiously, unsure of what to do.

Alastor realised what was happening when Vox began to seize. Tiny bolts of electricity jumped over him, and the hotel lights flickered. By now the commotion had drawn a crowd, Charlie front and centre with Lucifer not far behind. Alastor growled out a staticky warning not to come any closer, instincts urging him to protect what was his. His antlers grew as Lucifer stepped forward but the king of Hell was undeterred. But when Lucifer placed a hand on Vox he was thrown back with a flash of electricity. Charlie cried out and ran to help her father, while Alastor returned his attention to Vox, who was still shaking on the ground. He cautiously reached out a hand, ignoring the warnings sounding around him, and took Vox’s hand. Tiny lightning bolts danced over his fingers but they didn’t burn, didn’t throw him away. He could touch Vox.

He immediately put his other hand on Vox’s chest and began sending his own signal, a gentle pulse of static directly into Vox’s main processor. He wished he had his microphone to amplify his power, without it his static wasn’t a strong as Vox’s, and as much as he pushed, the electricity continued to spark. Then he felt hands on his shoulders. His head snapped around to see Lucifer and Charlie each resting one hand on him, Lucifer’s other hand cradled to his chest.

“We can help, Alastor.” Charlie said softly. “We’ll boost you, go on.”

Turning back around, he freed his hand and placed both over Vox’s chest where he knew the most complex wiring was located. Aided by Charlie and Lucifer, he was able to send a steady stream of radio waves, the signal gentle and calming. He continued his output until the sparks jumping over Vox’s skin died down and his trembling faded to stillness.

Vox’s screen flickered back to his face and his eyes fluttered open, and only then did Alastor relax. He felt Charlie and Lucifer remove their hands and his power dropped back to its normal levels. Vox tried to sit up but Alastor kept his hands on his chest, preventing him from moving.

“Easy there my dear,” he said softly, smiling wider when recognition sparked in Vox’s eyes. “Do you know what happened?”

When Vox awoke to Alastor’s worried smile and pounding in his head, it didn’t take long to figure out what had happened, even with his processors working at half speed as each of his systems rebooted. It took him a moment to process Alastor’s question, and embarrassment burned through him. He groaned.

“Ugh, I had a seizure. Fuck, how long was it?” He brought one hand up to press against his head. Then he groaned again. “Never mind, I got it. Could you help me up? The floor isn’t the most comfortable- woah.”

Alastor had slid one arm behind his shoulders and the other under his knees and picked him up as if he weighed nothing, which he knew wasn’t true- his head alone was pretty solid. Alastor carried him to the sitting area, as the rest of the hotel residents trailed behind.

Vox cringed, this was not the carefully constructed image he usually showed. His health had always been a carefully guarded secret, and even after the first time he’d collapsed at the hotel he was able to pass it off as an overload to his system. But this was unprovoked. There had been nothing stressful about the situation, nothing he could use to justify his meltdown. His lifelong issues, that not even death could rid him of, had finally been exposed, and to Hell’s royalty no less. His screen heated with shame.

On the other hand, the whole hotel had seen him half dead, so fuck it, his reputation was shot anyway. He relaxed further into Alastor’s hold, leaning his head against the radio demon’s shoulder. Alastor set him down gently on the couch, hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to him. Vox smiled as Alastor took his hand.

His smile faded slightly when he realised the rest of the hotel residents, Lucifer included, were gathered around and giving him concerned looks. Charlie stepped forward. “Vox, are you-?”

He sighed. “I’m fine. Really. Fuck, I- this is why I kept it to myself.” He ran a hand down his screen. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? Like I’m fragile, or broken. I’m not. Is it inconvenient? Yes. I hate it. But I’ve been dealing with it for a long time and I don’t need your pity.”

Charlie waved her hands frantically. “I’m sorry! That’s not- we were just worried. You collapsed.” She wrung her hands together and Vox’s anger dissipated.  Charlie gestured at Lucifer. “We couldn’t even touch you.”

It was then that Vox noticed Lucifer was holding one of his hands close to his chest, and when he looked closer he realised there were faint lightning marks burned into Lucifer’s hand and arm.

“Did I do that?” Vox’s eyes widened and Alastor gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“You gave us all quite the shock my dear, certainly some more than others. Fortunately, I was unaffected by your lightning.” Alastor said smugly, and Vox got the feeling Alastor was very pleased he’d been able to do something that even Lucifer had failed to do. He also got the feeling that the smugness was a mask to cover Alastor’s fear, as the deer demon was clinging almost desperately to his hand, as though he would disappear if he let go. Vox gave Alastor’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I didn’t realise nobody could touch me. I don’t think anyone’s ever tried to before. What did you do? That seizure was shorter than ones I’ve had in the past.” Vox turned to face Alastor, ignoring Charlie’s shocked exclamation of “Shorter?!”.

Alastor shrugged, a show of false nonchalance. “I merely provided some of my own radio waves, a counterpoint signal. I’m glad it was effective.” He said, smile softening. Then his expression shifted, ears twitching in a way that signalled to Vox he was planning something. What that was, Vox wasn’t sure, but he knew Alastor, and he knew that the radio demon was as stubborn as he was powerful.

Angel and Husk returned to the bar, nodding to Vox as they went, a gesture he returned to confirm he wasn’t about to drop dead. Vaggie, Charlie, and Lucifer were harder to shake, the former two hovering and doing a very poor job at hiding their concern, and Lucifer glancing curiously between Vox and his burned hand.

“You burned Adam’s wings. And destroyed the angelic weapons. Something about your energy, Battery, tears angelic power apart. I-“ Lucifer was cut off by Alastor’s staticky growling. Vox’s eyes widened as Alastor’s antlers grew.

“ Use his name . Not that degrading moniker. He’s more than your power source.”

Vox stared at Alastor. Everyone was staring at Alastor. Alastor, who’s eyes had changed to radio dials as he glared at a shocked Lucifer, who took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Woah there Bambi, I didn’t mean it like that.” Lucifer said, and Alastor’s antlers retracted somewhat, but he didn’t say anything. The tense silence that followed was broken by Charlie grabbing her father by the shoulders and leading him away, dragging Vaggie with her other hand and calling back over her shoulder.

“OkayI’mgoingtomakesureeverything’sgoodandyoutwogetsomequietokayBYE!”

With that she was gone, leaving Alastor and Vox alone in the sitting room.

Now that all the perceived threats had gone, Alastor could turn his focus solely to Vox. He smiled softly as his antlers returned to their normal relaxed position. “Now, my dear, why don’t we head upstairs so you can rest, hmm? It was quite the experience we just had.”

Vox looked at him, seeming to take a moment longer than usual to process his words. To anyone else, the change would have been imperceptible, but Alastor knew Vox. He was always fast, his processing, his reactions, all the slightest bit faster than the average as he jumped from one thing to the next, always moving. It made the contrast all the more obvious. As much as Vox had tried to brush it off, the seizure had affected him. Vox blinked, the electronic mess he had for a brain finally catching up.

“Oh, yeah. Wait, Alastor no, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“I rather disagree with you on that one, my dear.” He said, standing and scooping Vox up again before the other demon had the chance to protest.

“Alastor!” Vox sputtered as Alastor carried him upstairs, smile widening as Vox’s arms wrapped around his neck. The staticky hum of Vox’s screen tickled his cheek as the TV demon surrendered and leaned against him. Once upstairs Alastor continued straight past Vox’s bedroom, ignoring the confused protests, and entered his own room to deposit Vox gently on his bed. He leaned against the workbench facing Vox and decided to be direct.

“I want to help you. I wish to eliminate this problem.” He said, keeping down the static that threatened to distort his voice. However, instead of the beaming smile Alastor was expecting, Vox just sighed.

“You can’t, Al. It’s not something that you can just fix, believe me, I’ve tried. I replaced my whole fucking head because I thought it might help. I’ve been having seizures since I was eight years old. They’re not going away.” He shook his head in what looked like resignation. Alastor’s smile dimmed. That wasn’t the response he wanted. One part of him wanted to be angry that Vox was doubting his ability to help, but a larger part recognised hopelessness when he saw it. That wouldn’t do.

“You truly don’t think there’s anything I can do?” He said, cocking his head to one side. Vox didn’t respond right away, walking over to Alastor’s wardrobe and rifling through the various items of red clothing until Alastor waved his hand and Vox’s shark themed pyjamas became dark slacks and a loose blue sweater. Alastor stifled a laugh as Vox blinked in surprise, only to sober as Vox returned to his position sitting on the edge of the bed, expression frustrated.

“Alastor, I… it’s not that I like it. Trust me, it’s fucking annoying. But it’s not something you can change, alright? So please, just leave it. It’s really not that big a deal.”

“Alright.” Alastor conceded, raising his hands in surrender. For now, he would drop the issue. “How about a deal then? Not a proper deal,” He gestured flippantly at Vox’s raised eyebrow. “More like an agreement.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Alastor grinned. He’d won.

“If it gets worse, such as more than one in a day, or it lasts longer than the one you had today, then I may step in. Until then you may deal with your health how you see fit.” He held out his hand, but there was no power in it. Nothing would tie Vox to this agreement, it was purely honour-bound. Alastor waited as Vox thought it over, before he sighed and grasped Alastor’s hand.

“Fine. If it gets worse then you can help. Now, if we’re done with that, can you tell me more about what’s happened since the fight? I feel like I’m still missing some things.”

Chapter Text

Alastor kept a close watch on Vox over the following days. Or, he tried to. Between Vox’s stubborn insistence on independence and Alastor’s own unwillingness to reveal his affections to the other hotel residents more than they had been already, he often found that Vox escaped his view. He could tell his friend had been shaken, and he knew what Vox did when faced with something he didn’t like. He threw himself into his work.

Alastor saw cameras quickly reappear around the hotel, as well as several other technological upgrades, though, to his surprise, nothing overly modern. The cameras were in the corners of most rooms, but blended in to the background, obvious enough to be visible but not so much as to be overbearing. Alastor walked into the kitchen one night to discover a state of the art deep freezer, among other appliances, with a sticky note stuck to the top.

Al, I know you needed somewhere to keep your food seperate, and I remember you like to cook -V

Alastor had stood stunned for a moment, until he heard someone coming and had to quickly hide the note. Husk gave him a weird look, but ultimately ignored him in favour of the bar fridge, which he noticed was also branded with the VoxTek logo. That wasn’t all. According to Niffty, who went in everyone’s rooms besides his own, each room had been gifted a small television and something called “air conditioning”, and a short exploration of the outside of the hotel revealed that a security system had been installed, with sensors for demonic and angelic presences alike.

For all that Vox seemed unwilling to get his hands dirty, he was certainly efficient. Alastor was quietly impressed, but at the same time confused. When had Vox found the time to do all this? That and the power required to summon or even build and install the amount of technology he had was nothing to be scoffed at, and not something he should be doing while still recovering from an angelic wound. However, despite all that, Vox still managed to be annoyingly elusive. Charlie, on the other hand, was all too easy to track down.

“Ah! Good morning Alastor!” Her surprised greeting came in response to him materialising in the kitchen while she was eating her breakfast. She put down her bowl and gestured around them. “Isn’t all this so great? Don’t tell Dad, but while magic is super helpful for buildings, it’s not so great for electronic stuff, so Vox has been a big help. Speaking of Vox, have you seen him recently? I’ve been wanting to thank him but he’s always jumping around and I can’t seem to catch him.”

Alastor’s ears twitched. He’d been hoping Charlie would know where to find Vox, considering it was her hotel. He could feel Vox’s signature static somewhere in the building, strong and constant, but it was as Charlie said, constantly moving. He brought his focus back to Charlie.

“It seems as though we share the same problem, my dear. Our box-headed friend certainly has been busy, doing all of this helping out.” He said, already tuning his frequency to match the one he felt from Vox. Charlie nodded enthusiastically, completely missing his point.

“It’s amazing, he sent me this long email with a bunch of suggestions about how to make the hotel more effective and draw in more sinners. Some of the suggestions were a little odd but most of it was really helpful, though I guess he does run a company so he knows how to do that kind of thing.”

Alastor tuned out her ramblings in favour of tapping into Vox’s signal and doing something he hadn’t done in a long time, something he wasn’t sure would work without his microphone.

‘Hello? Vox, can you hear me?’

‘Alastor? Is that you? Where are you?’

Alastor smiled, and Charlie stopped her tangent. “Uh, Alastor? Have you been listening? I-“

“I’m afraid I’ll have to talk to you more later my dear, for I have just located our technological helper.”

Appearing in the upstairs living room he found Vox crouched behind the TV, wires strewn across the floor. Alastor spotted bandages peeking out from under the collar of Vox’s button down, the sleeves of which he’d rolled up to his elbows as he worked. He hadn’t yet looked up, attention focused solely on the task in front of him, a task Alastor was certain he wouldn’t understand no matter how many times Vox had tried to explain modern technology to him.

“You see, this part does the thinking, it’s the processor, then this part, the monitor, translates it into a picture.” Vox said, pointing to each part in turn as he ran through their function. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, listening to Vox’s voice while not really understanding what he was saying. Vox continued anyway, rambling excitedly about the technology sitting in front of them.

“Then this one, look here, it’s pretty small, but this has enough processing power to send messages around the whole world, there’s no limit on its range! Imagine being able to broadcast to the whole world! Or all of Hell, anyway.” Vox grinned, and as confused as Alastor was, his excitement was contagious.

“Truly fascinating, my friend. Do you have anything more my time in this vast collection?” He glanced around the warehouse they were standing in, screens of every type lining the walls, one room taken up by a strange contraption Vox called a “computer”, and in the main room there was a multitude of smaller “computers” sitting on tables with wires connecting to more screens.

He was fairly sure most of the technology was after Vox’s time, and definitely after his own. He didn’t really understand Vox’s fascination with it, why collect all these things when, in Alastor’s view, there was no need for them at all. That and the fact that all the workings of modern technology went directly over his head, a fact he was never going to tell Vox.

Vox had lead him to a seperate room, this one with a wooden door that set it apart from the steel walls of the rest of the building.

“I think you’re gonna like this one, Al.” Vox said, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Radios. This room was filled wall to wall with radios of every era, from before he was born to after he died and every year he was alive. Awestruck he stepped further into the room, to find each radio carefully labelled with year and model. The most complete collection he’d ever seen.

“How do you have all of these? Even I’ve never seen so many in once place.” He said, and Vox ducked his head, screen fuzzy with snowy blush.

“It wasn’t easy, but what kind of technology overlord would I be if I didn’t have all kinds of technology? I know radio is your thing, and I don’t mean to try and take that- that’s not what I meant at all, I don’t even sell radios, I just… fuck I’m not saying this right.” Vox buried his head in his hands and Alastor laughed.

“No harm done at all, my friend. If anything I’m glad these are being kept safe and taken care of.” He said, peering closer at a familiar model. 1931 Zenith was printed neatly on the label.

“I had one of these. It cost a small fortune but it was worth it. These aren’t common Vox, how do you have this?” He asked quietly, and Vox rubbed the back of his neck.

“That one definitely didn’t come cheap. Paid an imp to go up to earth to get it, I think he overcharged me to be honest, but whatever. You like it?”

Alastor nodded. It looked almost identical to the one he’d owned, the one he’d saved for months to afford, only for it to probably end up in a landfill after his death. He reached out and ran a finger gently over the dials.

“If you want it, it’s yours.” Vox said quietly, and Alastor turned around so fast there was an audible crack.

“Do you really mean that?”

Vox nodded. “On one condition. You teach me everything about them.” He pointed at the radios lining the walls. “For all that technology usually comes easy, I have no idea how these work. Teach me and it’s yours.”

Alastor’s smile widened, and he glanced at the Zenith once more before turning to face Vox.

“I believe you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Alastor moved closer to Vox, until he couldn’t step further without stepping on wires. When Vox still didn’t look up, absorbed in whatever he was doing, Alastor spoke up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting, my dear?” Vox’s head snapped up.

“Oh shit, Alastor, I didn’t see you there!”

Vox’s expression shifted from shock to sheepishness. Alastor’s ear twitched with annoyance. “You’ve only been awake for three days and during that time the hotel has become covered in your technology. Have you rested at all? Not to mention-“

“Don’t. Please don’t mention it. Alastor, I’m fine, trust me.” He shrugged. “I like being busy, and helping the hotel is giving me something to do.” Vox glanced at the dismantled TV, and Alastor decided to not be purposefully irritating for once.

“Isn’t it odd for you to see the wires? It’s the same as your insides, isn’t it?”

Vox blinked. Alastor saw him glance at the TV again before shrugging. “Well yeah I suppose so, I guess I never really thought about it.”

“The irony that you can look at what is essentially your own insides but can’t stand to see anyone else’s.” Alastor said, laughing slightly. Vox rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now too.

“Oh fuck off, that’s different.” He said, but there was no anger in it, if anything he sounded slightly embarrassed. “And about all the tech, I had a feeling you wouldn’t like it, look, I can remove some but there’s some I’d really rather keep around-“

“I never said I didn’t like it.”

“But you said the hotel was covered in technology in that tone of voice you use when you’re annoyed at something.”

Alastor stiffened. He’d forgotten how well Vox truly knew him, to the point where he could pick the slightest tell. He remembered Charlie saying something about the terrifying idea of being known or something like that and felt suddenly that maybe he should start paying attention to her ramblings. Something to think about later. Perhaps it was time to be blunt.

“I was frustrated and concerned about your well-being.” He said, wishing he had his microphone to occupy his hands as he suddenly found he didn’t know what to do with them. “Your additions to the hotel have been appreciated and are already proving helpful.” Alastor found himself relaxing as Vox beamed at him, seemingly glad his work had produced results. The radio static that usually coated his voice slipped away as he spoke to the one person he was truly comfortable around.

“I just wish you would take better care of yourself, Vox. Why must you do all of this right now? Surely you could take time to recover further, an angelic wound is not to be taken lightly.”

“Dance with me.”

“Vox are you even listening to me? You need to rest, and there’s no music playing and-“ Alastor cut off as Vox took his hands and pulled him in, close enough that he could feel the soft humming emanating from the TV demon’s head and chest. Rolling his eyes, Alastor summoned a small portable radio which landed on the floor with a dull thud and began to sing.

‘Oh… my love… my darling…’

Vox laughed softly, the sound barely more than a whisper, and leaned further into Alastor. Finally slowing down.

“Little after our time, isn’t it?” He said softly and Alastor hummed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps, but maybe not all modern music is awful. I like this one, it’s got style.”

Vox hummed. “What’s that? You finally developed taste?” He said, smiling mischievously. “Music from the fifties finally growing on you?”

Alastor gently touched his forehead against Vox’s screen, eyes closed and smile soft. “Not just the music, my dear.”

His grin widened as he felt Vox’s staticky blush deepen.

“Are you… flirting with me?”

“…Maybe. I suppose you’ll never know!” He said, grinning brightly.

“You fucking prick, you’re lucky I like you.” Vox pulled back slightly, smiling, but a moment later his smile faded, his grip on Alastor’s hands becoming slack. That was the only warning Alastor got before Vox slumped in his arms, screen going dark.

When Vox awoke to the sight of Alastor’s worried face for the second time that week, all he could do was sigh, something which Alastor did not seem to appreciate.

“Fuck, not again.” He groaned, allowing Alastor to help him sit up. “How long was it this time?”

“Just under five minutes.” Alastor’s expression had shifted to one of annoyance, though Vox couldn’t think of why.

“When were you going to tell me about the others?”

Shit. Vox’s eyes widened. “Uhhh.”

“Your screen glitched, I saw a seizure count. Were you going to tell anyone you’ve had six in three days? Were you going to tell me?”

“Alastor I- I didn’t want you to worry, I’m used to it, it’s just something I have to deal with.” He stared at the floor, noticing that the radio was gone, the room now blanketed in silence. He glanced at the TV he’d been halfway through dismantling when Alastor had arrived. So much for making progress on that particular project.

It wasn’t like he’d expected it to be easy to construct Alastor a new microphone, and now a few days into the project and having encountered constant, very irritating, distractions, he was beginning to realise it would be harder than anticipated to replicate a magical item. Fuck his stupid health issues. While it was not the first time he’d thought this, it was definitely one of the most frustrating. Weak. Useless. That’s what he was, no matter how much he itched to be more. To be better. He’d thought he’d be better than this. He hoped-

“I’m going to help.” Alastor’s quiet voice broke through his depressing train of thought. Vox looked at him, to be met with a determined smile. “Whatever it takes, I will fix this for you.”

“What if you can’t?” His voice broke. Vox wanted to believe in Alastor, after all, he believed in Alastor more than anything else, but this seemed impossible, even for the radio demon himself. “What then, Alastor?” It came out more accusatory than he’d intended, but the point stood.

Alastor didn’t accept failures, so when Vox proved more trouble than he was worth, surely Alastor would realise there was no point sticking around. He had plenty of other friends after all. Vox just hoped he would still be allowed to stay in the hotel, after being around so many others the last six months the idea of being alone in his tower again was a cold and lonely thought.

“Then I will try again.” Alastor said simply, and the certainty in his words stunned Vox slightly. “Again and again until something works. Trust me with this, picture box, please. I will find a way.”

“…Okay.” Vox said finally. “I trust you.”

(I love you.)

The day Vox realised he’d fallen in love with Alastor, he was with the radio demon himself, the two on their way to Rosie’s for lunch. Alastor was talking animatedly as they walked, gesturing with his microphone to accentuate his storytelling. As a radio host, Alastor was good at telling stories, and Vox always seemed to find himself enthralled by the other demon’s voice.

“So,” Alastor said brightly, twirling his microphone. “I may have to wait a while before returning to that particular establishment, but I feel it was well worth it!” He said, laugh track playing behind the words, and Vox couldn’t help but laugh along. By the time they arrived at Cannibal Town, they were both laughing, throwing jokes back and forth with the ease of experienced entertainers.

As they strolled down the main street, Alastor waving to the cannibals he was friendly with, Vox was struck with a sudden sense of fondness, a kind of affection he hadn’t felt in a long time. When Alastor held the Emporium door open for him, his heart did a funny double beat, and when he realised Alastor had requested Rosie serve regular meat rather than sinner meat, something sparked in his chest, and a thought occurred to him.

‘What would I do without him?’

The funny thing was, he couldn’t think of an answer. Some time during his afterlife, Alastor had become a central part of it, a steady constant that he could always rely on. Sitting at that table, listening to Alastor retell his story to Rosie and finding it just as funny the second time, the realisation knocked the air out of him. Fuck. He thought. I’m in love with the Radio Demon.

I’m in love with Alastor.

Chapter Text

Alastor paced around his room. Occasionally he would stop, write something down at his desk, pause, then crumple up the paper and throw it into the bayou, before resuming his pacing and restarting the cycle. The question of how to fix Vox’s problem had him frustratingly stumped. He was a butcher, not a doctor, and the only thing he was certain of when it came to the human brain was the best method of cooking them. Though, Vox didn’t even have a normal human brain, rather an amalgamation of metal and wires that Alastor had no clue of how to even begin working with. While Alastor liked to think knew his way around technology, his expertise started and ended with radios, and whatever Vox was comprised of was both very different and much more complicated than he was prepared for.

He refused to accept the possibility that he could not help Vox.

The answer came frustratingly late for how simple it was. He remembered what Vox had said when he explained it.

‘Seizures are caused by issues with the electricity in the brain.’

That was the core of the issue. A problem with the electricity in Vox’s core.  Alastor could work with electricity, it was much easier to influence than all those complicated wires and switches. Vox could handle those. All Alastor had to do was influence the electricity itself, convince it to work perfectly every time. Simple enough to do, with a little of his own power. That was the next problem. How to use his power to help Vox in a way that could function on his own, without any need for his continued upkeep. Vox would hate to be reliant on him like that. Humming softly in contemplation, he turned to the small television set laying innocently in the corner of his room.

Perfect.

He summoned his shadow. “Go inside it.” He commanded, pointing at the TV, which he was glad to realise was from around the same time as Vox’s head, rather than the modern televisions he’d spotted in the other rooms of the hotel. Vox truly knew him well.

His shadow nodded, grinning, before diving into the box-like machine, as Alastor flipped the switch and turned it on. Immediately he felt the static in the room increase, the buzzing from the television mixing with his own frequency. Through his shadow he could feel how the electricity buzzed through it, smooth and clean, like water through a pipe.

After a few minutes and a few small experiments, including smashing the television and recreating it almost perfectly several times, he felt he had a fairly good grasp on how electricity was supposed to flow through technology, and how a television channeled that power cleanly. Now if only he could channel that power. He thought back to the fight, when Vox had loaned him his power, and he’d attempted to shoot lightning at the angels, unsuccessfully. He focused his power on the television, grasping the electricity inside it, and tried to shoot it at a particular knot on the wall. A small blue-green spark shot out, hitting the wallpaper a foot to the left. Alastor’s smile dimmed. Without his microphone or Vox boosting him, his control of electricity was minor at best.

That wasn’t good enough.

He banished his shadow and prepared to try again.

After Alastor vanished into the shadows, thoroughly placated, Vox turned back to the deconstructed television set and sighed. He ran a hand down his screen, gazing at the wires strewn around the floor.

“Well shit.” He kicked at a wire unenthusiastically. The seizure had left him tired and unfocused, and he knew trying to continue his project would ultimately be unproductive. He gathered up the parts he’d selected earlier, the ones he’d identified as potentially useful, and tried to tap into the camera in the corner of the room, only instead of arriving in his room all it did was make him dizzy.

“Woah there, Ba- I mean Vox. Am I saying that right?”

Vox spun around, regretted it instantly when it only intensified his headache, and was met with the sight of Lucifer himself, looking almost concerned.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He said, unconvincingly, hoping Lucifer would drop it and leave. He didn’t. Instead, he walked further into the room, and Vox couldn’t help but study the king of Hell. He hadn’t seen Lucifer’s fully demonic form, he’d been busy dying at the time, so the idea that the short demon in front of him was his all powerful saviour would have been laughable if not for the sheer power radiating off him. Vox had to quickly turn down the sensitivity of most of his sensors so they wouldn’t be damaged.

“What are you doing here?” Vox asked quietly, turning to fully face Lucifer, who shrugged.

“I could ask you the same thing. That’s what I want to talk to you about.” Lucifer crossed the room and sat down on the sofa, gesturing for Vox to sit as well. Not wanting to risk disrespecting the king, he took a hesitant seat on the armchair opposite Lucifer. There was a slight tension in the room, an unspoken something that put Vox ever so slightly on edge, and a fair amount confused. Lucifer narrowed his eyes, staring intently in a way that made Vox resist the urge to run, to escape the scrutiny.

“You know, I used to think all sinners were awful, irredeemable people, and there was no hope for any of you, no matter what Charlie thought.” Lucifer took a deep breath and looked away, a small smile forming.

“I’m glad to see that I was wrong.” He said, and Vox had to check that his audio sensors were working correctly. The king of Hell, admitting he was wrong? Vox starred, wide eyed, as Lucifer continued.

“I read your file, and it explained a lot, if I’m being honest.” Lucifer looked Vox up and down.

“I’m sorry, my file?” Vox questioned, leaning forward slightly. Lucifer blinked.

“Oh yeah.” He said, gesturing flippantly. “All sinners have a file that outlines who they are. Who they were in life, what they did to land them here, how they died, all that stuff. Anyway, something about you was bugging me, so I dug out your file.” Lucifer said, and Vox felt the colour drain from his screen. Lucifer knew everything.

“Oh, that’s… interesting.” He stammered, attempting to fix his face into a relaxed expression. Lucifer didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, so I finally figured it out! Why you’re so strong, without any souls. You were famous in life.”

Vox just stared, trying to understand. Lucifer finally seemed to realise his confusion, and began to explain.

“You were an actor, right? Then a talk show host. You had eyes on you, you had influence. That kind of thing translates down here.” Lucifer gestured wildly as he spoke, the motions matching his words.

“People listened to you when you were alive, so then when you got down here, you were given a similar power, the ability to influence people. Makes sense, right?” He said, looking at Vox expectantly. Vox could only nod silently. It seemed every time Lucifer spoke to him he was given more life-changing information. But Lucifer wasn’t finished.

“However, that didn’t explain your little trick with the angelic steel. That took more digging. I think it has something to do with strength of will. Free will isn’t exactly compatible with pure heavenly energy. You have a strong character, you’re stubborn, you forge your own path.” Lucifer paused, looking contemplative. “I saw how you died. I’m sorry.”

Vox inhaled sharply. He’d only ever told Alastor how he died, so having someone else know was jarring to say the least. The fact that it was the king of Hell himself only exacerbated that feeling.

“I..” He began, but no more words came. He decided to switch track.

“Did Charlie tell you why I came here?”

Lucifer tilted his head curiously, shaking it slightly. Vox braced himself, unsure why he was doing this but feeling like he should.

“I was going to do that again. Kill myself.” He paused as he realised that was the first time he’d voiced it so bluntly. “I just needed someone to take care of my shark. Charlie convinced me to stay here instead.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. Vox continued, grinning slightly.

“You probably already know, but she can be pretty persuasive. She changed my mind, and I guess I changed yours. Funny how that happens.”

“Can I ask why?”

Vox blinked, smile dropping as he looked away. Lucifer hadn’t been very clear, but he knew exactly what had been asked.

“I was sick of being alone, waiting for someone I didn’t think was ever coming back.”

“Oh. I know that feeling.”

Vox looked back to Lucifer to see him staring down, twisting a gold band around his finger. Oh. Lilith had been missing for a while. He’d barely taken notice, so deep in his own grief, but the king had been missing his wife for around the same amount of time he’d been missing Alastor. He was brought back to the present when Lucifer spoke again.

“I’m glad you got your someone back. Even though he’s weird and creepy.” Lucifer said, and Vox laughed softly.

“Thank you. For the record, I hope you get yours back soon.”

Lucifer nodded, brightening slightly.

“Vox, for the record, I think you’re a decent person, and if you ever do go for redemption, you’ll have my endorsement.” He smiled, before standing and opening a portal and vanishing through it. Vox sank back into the armchair, exhausted, but with a new understanding of both the king of Hell, and himself.

Alastor had done it. After days of almost continuous effort, he’d managed to use his power to successfully harness electricity. With a charred spot on his wall to show for it, and a television set that worked as smoothly as before he smashed it to pieces, he was pleased with his progress, especially as he was still lacking his microphone. Now that he was sure his power was compatible with electrical signals, he could use it to supplement Vox, smooth out the kinks in his inner core and allow the energy to flow without any of those stutters.

The problem was, he didn’t want to take any risks with Vox’s health. He couldn’t afford to be overconfident. If only he had access to a sinner with a similar composition to Vox, but alas, his friend was truly one of a kind. He was about to smash the television and prepare to try again when there was a knocking at the door, and a too-cheerful voice.

“Alastor!” Charlie’s call came echoing through the door. “We have exciting news!”

Further practice would have to wait. With a sigh, he vanished the axe he’d been using to destroy the television, an attempt to recreate Vox’s injury, as much as he hated the thought of it. Opening the door he was greeted by Charlie, her barely contained excitement clear in her body language. Alastor knew there was no getting out of this one, especially now that Lucifer was keeping a closer eye on the hotel, upsetting Charlie was a no-go.

After following her sprint down to the lobby at a leisurely pace, he beelined for Vox and took a seat next to him on the couch.

“How are you today, my dear?” He said quietly, and Vox hummed.

“Tired. There’s some things I’ve gotta tell you later.”

“Hm? I’m sorry I’ve been so elusive lately, I’ve been working on something. How many seizures have you had since that day in the lounge?”

“Four.” Vox sounded defeated. “Each slightly longer than the last.”

Alastor’s heart clenched. “Have you told anyone?”

“No. Please don’t make a big deal of it, I don’t want everyone to know. It doesn’t affect the hotel anyway.” Vox sounded slightly strained, and Alastor raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve been purposefully hiding this from everyone? Not affecting the hotel?”

Vox ran a hand down his screen,  prepared to respond, but was interrupted by Charlie clearing her throat loudly.

“So! Everyone, I have some very exciting news!” She took a deep breath. “I got a message earlier this morning from my dad, who got a message from heaven, specifically Emily, saying that…”

“Get to the point!” Shouted Angel, still sporting messy fur due to the early hour. Charlie shot him a look before refocusing.

“Sir Pentious is in alive, in heaven! Redemption is possible!”

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Vaggie was rushing to embrace Charlie, picking her up and swinging her around. Husk and Angel made brief eye contact before both looking away. Niffty visibly brightened, and Alastor remembered her bonding somewhat with Pentious during his time at the hotel. He also spotted Cherri Bomb wiping her eye when she thought no one was looking. Fascinating.

Vox had frozen at Charlie’s words, one hand moving to grasp Alastor’s. Alastor glanced down at the sudden contact. He then looked up at Vox, only to see him staring straight ahead, expression unusually hard to read. His ears flicked as Vox’s vents began humming slightly louder, the mechanical hyperventilation picking up speed.

“Vox? Are you alright.” He asked quietly, giving Vox’s hand a small squeeze. Vox didn’t respond, and a small spark jumped between his antenna. No one else was looking their way, too caught up in their own celebrations, both of the hotel being a success and of Sir Pentious being alive. Alastor was about to try again when Vox vanished, zapping through a camera without a word. His departure captured the attention of the others in the room, who turned to see Alastor sitting alone, eyes wide with surprise.

It only took him a moment to regain his composure, standing and once again wishing he had his microphone to twirl dramatically. Charlie’s face fell, she looked confused.

“Did something happen? Is he alright?” She questioned, and Alastor didn’t know how to answer when he himself wasn’t certain he knew what was wrong. Charlie’s eyebrows had furrowed, and he could almost feel her thinking, as if Vox was a puzzle for her to solve. He bristled at the thought.

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious. But I will check on him, go back to your celebrations.” He waved away her look of concern, but she was soon pulled in the direction of the bar where Husk and Cherri Bomb were already mixing drinks.

When Alastor emerged from the shadows in Vox’s annoyingly well-lit room, he didn’t like what he saw. Vox was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, hands gesturing wildly in time with whatever was going through his head. His antennae were sparking erratically, and occasionally his screen would glitch, showing coloured bars or fuzzy static for a split second before returning to his anxious face.

The screens set into the walls reflected his stress, flashing between camera feeds and colours faster than Alastor could properly comprehend. Vark was similarly worried, keeping pace with Vox’s pacing by swimming back and forth in his large tank, glancing between Vox and Alastor as if begging for help. Alastor took a step forward, and Vox’s head snapped towards him. His left eye was swirling, and Alastor had to avoid looking at it. When he spared a glance he was filled with such a strong desire to leave that he almost did, before he was able to fight off the hypnosis. He’d left before. He would not make the same mistake again.

Even if Vox tried to push everyone away.

He took another step closer, enough to see that Vox’s hands were shaking, that his breathing was shallow.

“Vox?” He said softly, his radio filter faded. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please, picture box.” He took one of Vox’s hands, and Vox seemed to come back to himself, his eye returning to its default state. Alastor’s smile widened some at this, glad that Vox was no longer panicking, but his smile dropped when Vox’s breath hitched and suddenly there were watery trails running down his screen.

“Alastor!” He gasped, his grasp on Alastor’s hands tightening. “Please, you’ve gotta help me. I don’t.. I can’t-“

“Of course I’ll help you Vox,” He said, slightly taken aback by the desperation in his friend’s voice. “But you must tell me what is wrong.”

“I don’t want to go!”

As much as he tried to be patient, Alastor was growing frustrated with Vox’s vague statements.

“Where? Where don’t you want to go?”

“Heaven!” Vox cried. “Didn’t you hear Charlie, redemption is real! I need to be worse, or they’ll take me, and I can’t go, I can’t.. won’t..” He trailed off, a fresh wave of tears coming as he frantically gripped Alastor’s hand. Alastor’s eyes widened, and a sense of dread settled over him. Redemption was real, and Vox was a promising candidate.

For really, what had Vox done recently to warrant Hell? Nothing came to mind, and that scared him. Vox provided valuable services to all the rings of Hell for frankly very reasonable prices, he was a dedicated pet owner, had freed Angel Dust from an abusive contract, and had sacrificed himself by taking an injury meant for Alastor. Vox’s lack of action in the last seven years had led to a lack of sins, making him possibly the most promising candidate for redemption.

Alastor gently led Vox to his bed, trying to quell his own panic so as not to scare his friend more. Vox had attempted to clear his screen but only succeeded in smearing the tears around. Alastor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the watery coolant away, making a mental note to burn that handkerchief later. Coolant was impossible to remove. He placed one arm around Vox’s narrow shoulders, partly for comfort and partly as a security measure if Vox was to have an episode, because his screen was beginning to glitch slightly and it was making Alastor nervous. Once they were sitting flush beside one another, he spoke quietly to Vox.

“I promise, I will not let them take you. Tell me what you need me to do.”

Vox had calmed somewhat, the trembling now reduced to the occasional shudder, and the tears had ceased. He stared down at their hands, still clasped tightly.

“I think… if I’d died that day, to Adam, I’d be up there already.”

Alastor stiffened at the words, and Vox’s horrified tone implied he’d only just arrived at that realisation himself.

“Purely hypothetical, my dear.” He said gently, but he knew Vox was probably right. He continued, successfully keeping his voice from trembling. “And we don’t have to worry about that. You’re not dead.”

“I wonder if Charlie will still let me stay here if I’m trying not to be redeemed.” Vox laughed humourlessly, his voice flat.

“I’d like to see her try to turn you away.” Alastor said sharply, antlers growing at the thought. Then he softened, giving Vox’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I would never let her of course, but I highly doubt she would even consider it. She said herself, if I recall, that you’re here for rehabilitation, rather than redemption.”

Vox took a deep breath, and the sparking lessened, which Alastor took as a good sign. Vox nodded.

“Yeah, okay. So I just need to avoid Heaven’s interest. I need to be less redeemable. What do I even do?” Vox glanced up at Alastor, desperation clear in his eyes, ever so expressive. Alastor thought it over. What could Vox do quickly, in order to quell this worry, but without exerting too much power while still healing from an angelic wound. Alastor couldn’t deny the concern he held regarding his friends health, and he told himself the reasoning was selfish, that he wanted more time with Vox, and couldn’t have that if he was to end up dead or in Heaven.

“You could always become an overlord again. Owning another’s soul is probably something Heaven looks down upon.” He suggested, after running through a list of things he himself did that could be considered irredeemable and narrowing down items that Vox could also do. Cannibalism was an immediate no, as entertaining it would be to see Vox attempt to convert to his diet, Alastor was not keen on causing any further damage to Vox’s injuries. Serial murder was also an option, but the bloody, gory mess it often ended up being was in conflict with Vox’s nit-picky, perfectionist tendencies.

Owning souls, on the other hand, was something he knew Vox could do, and had done before, very effectively. For not only did he own them under contract, he also employed them, using his influence to further progress his business and presence in Hell’s other districts. As much as Alastor had refused to admit it at the time, it was a very effective setup. The power boost Vox would receive would be helpful too, ideally it would accelerate his healing, and certainly increase his overall strength.

“Do you really think I could be an overlord again? Who would even enter a contract with me?” Vox said dejectedly, and Alastor bristled at the slight against his friend, even if Vox himself was the perpetrator.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of sinners in this city who would jump at the chance to sell you their souls! Why, you had plenty before? What did you do the first time round?” Alastor tilted his head, and Vox seemed to brighten slightly as he considered the question.

“I offered people jobs. As it turns out, I’m not the only one who felt hopeless or alone in Hell, so I’d employ sinners, give them a place to live and a job to do, in return for their souls and their labour. You think that’d work again?” Vox said hesitantly, one raised eyebrow indicating his doubt. Alastor grinned widely.

“Of course! Especially if you include the little detail about you frying Adam’s wings. People follow that kind of power.”

Alastor was expecting agreement, but Vox only winced, placing a hand on his chest.

“I don’t want to put a target on my back. I can’t risk other overlords thinking I’m too much of a threat to them. Valentino already has it out for me.”

“You’re already stronger than he is.”

“No. I’m unpredictable again.” Vox said, and the hollow resignation in his voice rendered Alastor speechless. Is that how he saw himself? A liability, whose ability couldn’t be trusted?

“Vox, you’re not-“

“Yes, I am.” He said sharply. “What happens if other overlords, if Valentino finds out I’m injured, or that I have seizures every day. I’d be dead the second I stepped foot outside the hotel.”

“Picture box, please-“

“This is what cost me everything in life, I can’t let that happen again, you understand, right?” Vox pleaded, and Alastor folded. He nodded gently.

“I do understand. But I also know that you are far more capable than you give yourself credit for. You are more than a match for that repulsive moth, and I am certain that there are hundreds of sinners who would gladly work for you, but you must present the opportunity.” Alastor paused, before standing from the bed and kneeling in front of Vox, taking both of the TV demon’s hands in his.

“I wish you wouldn’t think so lowly of yourself. If only you could see what I do, then maybe you would understand. You have so much potential, so much promise, and I will be there every step of the way, to help you realise it. I swear, I will not leave you again.”

Vox stared at him, wide eyed, and Alastor had to resist the urge to look away or break the tension. He was shocked by his own sincerity, having never expressed his true feelings like that before, and Vox’s lack of response was making him ever so slightly nervous.

Then Vox seemed to process exactly what he’d said, and the resulting staticky blush was so strong that it was difficult to make out his expression. Alastor grinned, and Vox smiled back.

“Thank you.” Vox said, his voice slightly choked up. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Alastor stood, pulling Vox up with him and wrapping his arms around the other sinner in a rare show of physical affection.

“My dear, it is impossible not to.”

Chapter Text

It was only later that Vox realised that, in all the chaos of Charlie’s announcement and his resulting breakdown, he had completely forgotten to tell Alastor what Lucifer had discovered. Resolving to tell him later, he continued setting up his filming setup, pausing occasionally to pat Vark and try to calm his racing heart.

For the first time in almost seven years, he was going to broadcast.

He’d found an unused room, which there were plenty of in the newly upgraded hotel, and set up his cameras and backdrop. Not that he really needed them, as he was able to project his image to any screen he wanted, but it provided a sense of realism and gave him something to look at. Vark was curled up just behind the camera, tail swishing slowly enough not to disturb anything. Once he’d transformed the room into essentially a studio, he began running through the script he’d written, having been unconfident in his ability to improv a pitch after years of inactivity.

It was fairly simple all things considered, consisting of a brief introduction, a rundown of his offer, the basic contractual agreement, and ending with his contact information. Digitally, of course. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he was staying at the hotel, especially after the light show he put on during the battle, but he still wasn’t going to advertise his location to all of Hell, not when there were other options.

Now prepared but finding any reason to stall, Vox checked himself over to ensure no bandages could be seen through his clothing, and that he looked overall presentable enough to be seen by a large number of Pentagram City’s population. He winced as he looked at himself in the mirror. There was nothing he could do about his head, the boxy outdated television it had returned to. Hopefully nobody would really take notice, especially considering he hadn’t made a proper public appearance in a long time. Maybe everyone had forgotten what he looked like?

Shaking away that thought, he took a deep breath that he didn’t really need, since all it did was make his chest hurt, and sat down behind the desk he’d set up, facing the camera and trying to will himself to turn it on.

“What if no one even sees it?” Vox asked, nervously fiddling with his clothes, nicer than he was used to since arriving in Hell.

“Don’t be silly, people are already obsessed with your little picture box devices, I’m sure plenty of sinners will see it if you put it on every screen in the city.” Alastor replied, polishing his microphone casually. “Now stop fretting, you’ll wear a hole in my jacket.”

Vox hastily dropped the hem of the jacket he’d been playing with, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry, I just… I haven’t done this in a while. Not since looking like this.” He gestured to his head, and Alastor out down his microphone and crossed the room to grasp Vox gently by the shoulders.

“You look fine, my friend. Don’t be nervous, turn on that charm I know you have somewhere in there.” He tapped the top of Vox’s head playfully. Vox grinned.

He got into position and gestured to Alastor, who set the camera filming.

“Hello citizens of Pentagram City! My name is Vox, and you’re currently watching the pilot episode of Hell’s very first sinner-produced talk show, Vox-2-Nite! We’ve got some riveting news on the agenda for this evening, so settle in and enjoy the show!”

The broadcast had been a huge success, and had catapulted Vox from small time entertainer to one of Hell’s most notable figures. His fast paced information and passionate commentary had captured the attention of the entire Pride Ring, and had allowed him to grow his entertainment empire shockingly quickly. To his immense surprise, no one even made fun of his head, instead saying how well it fit the brand and how the commitment was admirable. Alastor had given him the ‘I told you so’ speech of the century when he’d burst in to his radio tower babbling excitedly about the positive reviews flooding in.

“Thank you for helping me get my show off the ground.” He said, and Alastor waved away the words.

“It was nothing, really. The credit is all yours. How you manage to talk so quickly without stuttering while in front of a camera I’ll never know. Especially since you stutter during everyday conversations!” Alastor joked, but Vox heard the compliment buried underneath it. He grinned.

“Just built for it, I suppose.”

“Built for this, I’m built for this.” He muttered under his breath over and over, trying to hype himself up enough to turn the camera on. Vox straightened his already straight tie and fixed a confident smile on his screen. He gestured to begin the broadcast but before he could so much as spark there was a soft knocking at the door. He paused, expression falling slightly.

“Hello?” Charlie’s voice came floating through the wood. “Is someone in here?”

Vox had planned on being very still and quiet until Charlie left, but when Vark heard her voice his tail began to wag, knocking the tripod with the camera balanced precariously on top. Vox’s eyes widened, and he dove across the desk in an attempt to catch it before it hit the ground, but he wasn’t quick enough and the camera smashed into the ground, the tripod clattering after it. Vox winced.

“Shit. Shit shit shit.” He hissed, hands hovering uselessly over the shattered camera as the knocking resumed.

“I heard a crash, I’m coming in!” Charlie’s voice came again and before Vox could react she had kicked the door open. She froze at the scene in front of her. Vark grinning oblivious, tongue lolling out of his wide mouth, and Vox crouched over a broken camera, wearing his best suit.

“Uhh, I can explain.”

“Oh my gosh Vox, I am so sorry, did I cause that?” She held one hand to her cheek as she waved the other to fix the camera. Vox straightened up, shaking his head slightly.

“Ah, no, Vark just got excited when he heard you. He likes you.” He said, gesturing at Vark who was now sitting up, looking between Vox and Charlie and hoping for attention. Charlie smiled, then looked around the room more closely.

“So, what are you doing in here? Making a video?” She asked, seeming genuinely interested, and Vox cringed inwardly. He was going directly against the goals of the hotel, inside the hotel.

“Yeah. Making a video.”

“That’s great! Did you know spending time on a hobby is a great way to reduce stress?” Charlie said enthusiastically, eyes practically sparkling. Vox tried to smile, but it turned out more like a grimace. Charlie didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “So what is it about?” She looked so earnest that he found he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Even if he could, he’d been so exhausted recently that he wouldn’t trust himself to come up with anything convincing.

“I’m putting out an advertisement of sorts, for a job opening. I’m going to start employing sinners again.” He said, and braced for her disappointment. But Charlie only smiled, not seeming to fully understand the reality of what he said. It was times like this that her sheltered upbringing made itself known.

“For your company, right? That’s so nice of you, to give people jobs.”

No. That wasn’t right, he was supposed to be being worse, unredeemable, not nice. Vox felt his heart sink. She was supposed to be disappointed. Supposed to scold him like she scolded Angel or Niffty for fighting or excessive violence, not call him nice and approve of his actions.

Charlie’s expression shifted to concern and Vox realised his mask must have slipped, his devastation broadcast on his screen.

“You’re supposed to be mad.” He said quietly. “Employing sinners means owning their souls. I’m going to be taking their souls in exchange for employment.” He explained, and Charlie frowned.

“Why would that make me mad? Lots of sinners own souls, for lots of reasons, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Are you going to treat them badly once you own them?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“No?” He buried his face in his hands. “I mean, that would just be stupid, mistreated sinners don’t want to work as hard.” He said, lifting his head but not meeting her gaze. Charlie gently closed the door behind her, so now it really was just the two of them. Of course, Vox should have been able to leave at any time by escaping through any of the technology in the room, but his powers had been more draining than ever since the battle, and he needed the energy if he was going to broadcast.

“Vox, what is this really about? As far as I know you’re still the richest sinner in Pride, and I get the feeling you don’t even really care about that. So why the sudden investment in your business?”

Damn her perceptiveness. For someone so naive, Charlie could be very sharp when she wanted to be. Vox felt his breathing pick up, and he wanted nothing more than to leave, or for her to leave, or for someone to burst in the door and save him from this interaction that was slowly destroying his plans of not being redeemed, but nobody left, and nobody arrived. It was only him and Charlie, and one of them had to crack first.

“I can’t go to Heaven!” He shouted, voice distorting, and Charlie blinked in surprise.

“Vox, what- What are you talking about, sure you could, you’re doing great!”

“That’s just the problem! Charlie, listen,” He said, collecting himself. He could feel the static building, and he needed to be Vox the Businessman, rather than Vox the Pathetic Train Wreck. “I was never aiming for redemption. In fact, I didn’t even think it was possible. Clearly, I was wrong.” He paused, clasping his hands together behind his back to hide their shaking.

“I need to stay here, in Hell. I cannot allow myself to be redeemed. I refuse to be… alone again.” He said, having to pause once more as his voice choked up. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“I’m going to attempt to become an overlord again. I’m sorry Charlie, but I need to do this, because if Heaven takes me… I won’t survive it.”

She stared at him for several moments, long enough that he started getting nervous, possible outcomes running through his mind. Being kicked out of the hotel, having to live alone in his tower again. Being forcefully redeemed, dragged up to Heaven away from everything he knew. Betraying Charlie after she saved his life, and for some reason that one stung more than he thought it would. He waited, anticipating which worst-case scenario would become reality.

Then Charlie hugged him.

He froze. It didn’t make any sense, she should be angry, disappointed, or something along those lines. She should be yelling at him. But she was hugging him.

“What- why? Why aren’t you angry?” He stuttered, disbelief clear in his voice. “I’m going against the purpose of the Hotel!”

“No, you’re not.” She said quietly, holding him tighter. “The hotel may be for redemption, but that’s not the true purpose. My ultimate goal is to help my people. No matter what that looks like. So if staying in Hell is what you need to do to be happy, then I’ll do whatever I can to help you do that.”

Vox slowly brought his arms up to return her embrace.

“Th-thank you.” He said, and she pulled back, smiling.

“So,” She said brightly, “Is there anything I can do to help with your broadcast?”

He laughed softly. “No offence Charlie, but you and advertising don’t seem to mix well.”

She blushed slightly, grinning sheepishly. “Yeah, you may have a point there. I’ll just let you get back to it, then”

He nodded, and she slipped out of the room, leaving him with a repaired camera and a growing feeling of static in his chest. He got back in position and fixed a smile on his face as he waved a hand to turn the camera on. He was on a time limit.

Decades of experience kicked in, and the second the camera was rolling the confident showman mask was on. He breezed through his script without a single stutter, left eye swirling towards the end to really seal the deal, the picture of a successful businessman. For that’s what he was to the rest of Hell, a businessman offering employment and security in return for souls. An easy decision to make for the average desperate sinner. It was a good deal too, one that would likely benefit many low level sinners, as well as boosting the business.

The thing was, at his heart, Vox was not a businessman. He was an actor.

Moments after he cut the camera, the act dropped, and so did Vox, collapsing behind his desk, sparking and seizing.

When he regained consciousness it was to a pounding headache and a warm weight at his side. He laid a shaking hand over Vark and the shark pup huddled slightly closer, letting out a quiet whine.

“I’m okay, Varky, it’s okay.” He soothed quietly, running his hand over the shark’s wide nose.

He decided to remain where he was on the floor, in case he had a second episode. It was becoming more common for him to have several in a row, leaving him disoriented and exhausted by the end. Also, he didn’t want to risk hitting his head if he fell. He was usually able to sense a seizure coming, the static in his head and chest becoming stronger and his processes slowing, and he was usually able to position himself so that he wouldn’t smash his screen against the ground.

He knew he should probably tell someone, should probably tell Alastor, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Alastor would fuss, Charlie would fret, and he didn’t trust anyone else enough to even consider it. He supposed Lucifer already knew about his history, considering this was a problem he carried from his life, but he didn’t want the king knowing about all of his issues.

He remembered when he’d been alive, the confusion from the doctors when faced with the perfectly healthy child who became a perfectly healthy young man, except for the fact that he would occasionally collapse and spasm for no apparent reason. Every time he’d ended up in a hospital, it seemed they were focused more on trying to solve what was wrong with him rather than trying to figure out how to stop it. At one point they’d even triggered an episode on purpose just so they could stand around and watch. He’d hit his head and had to spend a week under observation.

They’d prescribed him epilepsy medication, which didn’t help because he didn’t have epilepsy, so all it did was make him severely anxious and depressed, which probably contributed to his mental breakdown and subsequent on-air murder-suicide.

He’d had a lot of time to reflect lately, lying on the floor in various rooms of the hotel. He’d also discovered that he quite liked the ceilings, high and arched curves of dark wood and wallpapered panels that matched the rest of the walls. They were nice.

He groaned as he started feeling dizzy again, the nice ceiling swirling above him.

“Okay, Varky, you gotta go. I don’t wanna burn you when I start freaking out.” He said softly, pushing gently on Vark’s nose. The shark pup refused to budge, placing his head over Vox’s chest stubbornly. Vox pushed him a little harder.

“Go, Vark. You can come back when it’s over. Now go.” He said, firmer this time, and he knew that while Vark was innocent, he wasn’t stupid, and he knew enough words to understand what Vox was saying. Still he didn’t move. Vox could feel the next episode coming, and he remembered all too well what happen to Lucifer when he’d tried to touch him. He didn’t know if it would have the same effect on non-angels, but he wasn’t about to risk it. He could feel the static building, and he knew he didn’t have long before the next seizure started.

“Go away Vark!” He shouted, voice breaking. “Get away from me!”

Vark whined sadly before padding to the other side of the room. Vox felt awful for shouting at his pet, but at least now Vark would be safe. Sighing quietly with relief, Vox gave in to the static and felt his body begin to seize again as he lost consciousness.

When he woke again, it was to Alastor’s terrified expression as he leant over him.

When Charlie had entered the lobby with a slightly concerned look on her face and beelined for Vaggie, Alastor had thought nothing of it. However, when he caught Vox’s name in their hushed conversation, he subtly turned an ear in their direction. He caught a few words of Charlie’s hurried whispers, as she expressed her worry for Vox and his plan. Alastor assumed that she was referring to Vox’s plan of becoming an overlord again, and hoped Charlie would not interfere. Vox didn’t need additional obstacles. He’d be planned to eavesdrop further, but they stopped their mumbling abruptly when the television in the corner buzzed to life, the screen brightening to show Vox’s grinning face. Alastor felt Vox’s presence in the hotel multiply, and realised he was doing this broadcast live, projecting his image to every screen in the city. Of all the idiotic, reckless-

His internal tirade was cut off as Vox began speaking, his tone filled with false enthusiasm.

“Greetings, all citizens of Pentagram City! For those of you who don’t know me, I am Vox, CEO of VoxTek and producer of all manner of electronic goods and services! For the first time in years, VoxTek is looking for employees! Jobs include managerial positions, technology overseeing, general engineering, and more! Skills are not required as the business pretty much runs itself! If you want steady employment and a relatively safe place to live, contact VoxTek via the number on your screen!

And remember, Trust Us with your soul!”

Alastor grinned. If he had not already trusted Vox, he would have after watching that. Vox was nothing if not persuasive. That was where his true power was, his words. The electricity was nothing to be scoffed at of course, but the real danger of Vox was not losing in a fight, it was losing your will to fight. Alastor didn’t understand it at first, would constantly question why Vox would shy away from physical fighting when it was so common in Hell, and even Alastor delighted in the occasional recreational scrimmage. Power was gained through battle, but Vox changed the playing field. Turned the battle mental and obliterated the competition.

“Why don’t you just electrocute them? I know you can.”

Vox shrugged, wiping his claws after shaking the hand of slug-bodied sinner.

“I could have, but then they’d be dead.”

“So? They’d no longer be causing problems in your district.” Alastor pointed out, logically in his opinion. Vox laughed.

“That’s true, but this way when they want to come back later, they’ll be grateful I didn’t kill them, and I can bargain for their souls. They get to live here and I get more souls, we both win.” He explained, the easy confidence in his voice giving Alastor pause. Then he huffed.

“I prefer it when only I win.”

Vox laughed again. “That’s why you have so many enemies. You’re lucky you’re powerful. I don’t want that hanging over my head.”

“You are one of the strangest sinners I have ever been friends with. You want people to like you, rather than fear you?” Alastor asked, cocking his head to one side. Vox smiled softly.

“I’m not very scary. You’re great at it, but it never came naturally to me. But being likeable, that I am good at. I had to be. Television isn’t like radio. There’s nothing to hide behind but yourself, so you can’t fumble, or people will see right through you. I was a good actor. I am a good actor.”

“That sounds unnecessarily complicated when you could just kill them.” Alastor deadpanned. Vox grinned and bumped him with his shoulder.

“But what about the long game, huh? Say I kill everyone who made trouble in my district? Yeah, maybe they’d all behave, but no one will be jumping to offer me any favours if I ever need it. Or souls for that matter. That’s the trick.” He said, clicking his fingers, “You ask for something small first, and they’ll be more likely to offer you something bigger later. Favours are a powerful thing, more so because people underestimate them. The sinners I own love me because I give them jobs, houses, money, all of which I have no shortage of. If i asked, they would give me everything, no hypnosis required.”

Alastor hummed contemplatively. “You may have a point there, my friend. Perhaps I should try your way, if there is ever someone I do not wish to kill. Th ough that may be unlikely.” He grinned, and Vox chuckled.

“When that day comes, I’ll have to see it myself to believe it, that there is someone you won’t just kill for convenience.” He said, extending a hand. Alastor shook it gently, no power behind it.

“Deal.”

Alastor glanced over at Charlie and Vaggie once more. He really had followed Vox’s advice, almost without even realising it.

After the broadcast had ended the television had flickered back to silent and dark, and Alastor knew the rest of the sets in the hotel had done the same. He reached out his senses to Vox’s frequency, expecting to find it quickly, but felt his heart rate quicken when he didn’t. He couldn’t feel Vox, which meant he was purposefully dampening the signal. Why would he do that?

Then the lights went out.

Alastor was on his feet in an instant, followed closely by Vaggie and Charlie, who he immediately rounded on.

“Where is he?” He demanded, and Charlie sputtered, Vaggie drawing her spear seemingly out of reflex. He itched to grasp her, to shake her until she revealed where Vox was, but he kept his hands to himself, wishing for his microphone. Charlie finally untangled her tongue.

“He was in a spare bedroom that he’d turned into a film studio. Follow me.” She said, turning and walking briskly down a rarely used hallway that was lined with unused rooms. Alastor had the fleeting thought that Lucifer had rebuilt the hotel a little too extravagantly, but it was quickly replaced by frustrated concern. He was supposed to be able to sense Vox, find him and hold him through his episodes. But Vox had been hiding them from him, suppressing the crackling spasms in his frequency that would alert Alastor to any trouble. To an extent he understood, for if he were injured he would do the same, but he wished Vox wouldn’t hide from him.

He followed Charlie closely down the hallway, Vaggie right behind him. He reached out his senses once again, feeling for any trace of Vox, but there was none. He vaguely heard voices from further away in the hotel, the other residents wondering about the sudden blackout. Suddenly Charlie stopped and turned to face them, and he almost ran into her in his distracted state.

“Well?” He snapped, “Where is he? Which room?”

Charlie seemed to wilt. “I don’t know! It all looks different in the dark, and I only came down here the once!”

Alastor growled, turning and pacing. Then the lights flickered back to life, and a moment later, something else did as well. He could sense Vox again. In a split second he was moving, striding purposefully towards the far end of the hallway, and stopping in front of a door that looked identical to every other door. Completely unremarkable, so much so that he wouldn’t have given it a second glance if not for the unmistakable hum of static that told him Vox was behind it.

He lunged for the handle.

The lights went out again.

Antlers growing, he forewent the handle and kicked the door open, almost shattering the latch, but he didn’t care. The room was shrouded in darkness, and Alastor could only make out vague shapes due to the faint flickering of white-blue light emanating from behind a piece of furniture he assumed was a desk. Vox.

He almost summoned a fire to his hand, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“No fire, no electricity means no air filters, and we can’t risk the smoke.” Charlie said, and he huffed. Sinners had the ability to see in low light, due to the general dimness of Hell, but this darkness felt unnatural, as if all the light had been sucked from the room, and only the faint blue sparks remained.

He took a step forward, and was met with a low growling sound, the kind of sound made by a large animal right before it pounced. He hated that he knew that sound, and all the hair on his neck was suddenly standing straight up. However, when no pounce came, he decided to press on, his desperate need to get to Vox winning out over his fear.

Followed closely by Charlie and Vaggie, he began picking his way across the room, but within a few steps he collided with something and there was a loud clattering sound, then the sound of something breakable hitting the floor. Charlie inhaled sharply from behind him.

“This room is full of filming equipment, cameras and lights and stuff. We just can’t see any of it.”

Alastor snarled, but then realised he was the only one doing so. At the sound of Charlie’s voice the growling had stopped, and hesitant footsteps could be heard. He startled slightly as something brushed against his leg, and tentatively reached a hand down. When his fingers met something solid, he brushed them up and down, the texture conforming his suspicions. Smooth one way and rough the other, the velvety sensation could only belong to one creature. Vark was in here with them. He slowly crouched down.

“Vark,” He said seriously, trying to ignore how foolish he felt to address an animal in such a way. “I need to get to Vox. Can you guide us?”

There was a moment of silence, and he began to further doubt the intelligence of the shark, despite what Vox always said. Then he felt sharp teeth brush his hand. He almost jerked back, but the teeth did not bite, as he feared they would. Instead, Vark carefully took the end of Alastor’s sleeve between his powerful jaws, and began gently tugging him forward, perpendicular to the fading flashes of light. Alastor reached out behind him and grasped Charlie’s coat, she jumped slightly before taking his hand, and in turn pulling Vaggie along with her.

If the lights had been on, the strangest scene could have been observed. The radio demon being cautiously led between cameras and lights and microphones by a large land shark pup, pulling the princess of Hell and a retired exorcist behind him. But the lights were not on, a fact that served to remind Alastor of the urgency of the situation. The brief sparks had stopped, but this time the lights did not come back on.

Vark guided them, in their strange linked line, through the inky maze of the room, weaving through the equipment with the ease of one who could sense even the faintest of electrical signals. Who could see while the three sinners were blind. It wasn’t a large space, but they moved slowly, and while Alastor would have had no issues using his tentacles to knock every object aside, he would not risk hurting Vox, so this was what needed to be done. When they did finally reach the other side of the room, after what felt like far too long, Alastor immediately knelt down next to Vox, whose screen was dark even as his body continued to seize.

He heard Charlie thanking Vark behind him, felt the air from the shark’s tail wagging, but his attention was pulled forward, where Vox was still lying unresponsive. Reaching out to put his hands on Vox’s chest like he’d done before, he hesitated slightly. It had worked before, he’d been able to lessen Vox’s seizure. Gathering radio waves to his fingertips, he laid his hands on Vox.

It burned . Electricity immediately arched up his arms, the white-blue bolts stinging and biting as they went. He wrenched his hands away, gasping slightly.

“Alastor? Are you alright?” Charlie’s voice came through the dark, concern clear as day. He didn’t respond right away, still shocked.

“Al? Please, I can’t see you, are you alright? Answer me?” She said, and he could hear her moving around presumably trying to find him.

“Alastor?”

“I can’t touch him.”

“What?” Vaggie’s question came quickly, and Alastor growled.

“I can’t touch him! ” He shouted back, staring at his own hands, the low light put out by Vox’s sparks making them look blurred and grey.

“He burned me. I don’t think I can help him this time. We have to wait it out.”

The lights flickered back to life.

The first thing Alastor took notice of was the fact that Vox’s screen was still dark, though the seizing had stopped. The second thing he noticed was the bright blue lightning scars that now covered his hands, creeping up his arms like vines and disappearing under his sleeves, a sharp contrast against his dark skin. He ignored Charlie’s gasp from behind him, turning his hands over to better see the markings. They no longer burned, and he found that the longer he looked at them, the more he found himself strangely liking the idea that he bore a mark of Vox on his skin.

His musing was broken when his attention was returned to Vox by Vaggie’s quiet voice.

“Alastor, he’s not breathing.”

“What?!” He cried, instantly dropping his hands. She was right, as Vox was still. Too still. No huff of vent-based breath, and no soft buzz of static. With a screech of radio feedback, Alastor placed both hands on Vox’s chest, and thankfully was not burned this time, as he began pushing waves of energy into his unconscious friend.

After a few pulses there was a wheezing sound, and Vox’s chest rose on its own. Alastor exhaled in relief, and heard Charlie and Vaggie do the same from behind him. At the sight of Vox breathing, Vark curled up beside him on the opposite side to Alastor, nudging Vox’s limp hand until it rested in the centre of his flat head. Now that it was clear Vox was no longer dangerous to touch, Alastor took his other hand and held it close to his chest, feeling the soft hum of energy that ran through it, Vox’s usual smooth frequency that was soothing to the touch, rather than painful.

Alastor’s grasp on Vox’s hand only tightened when his screen began to brighten, the bright technicolors that Vox referred to as a ‘boot-up sequence,’ whatever that was, flashing rapidly across the display, interspersed with scrolling text that was too fast to read. When Vox’s face did reappear, Alastor was still clutching his hand in worry, expression tense with fear. Vox’s eyes fluttered open, and Alastor felt himself relax a fraction.

“Vox. Can you hear me, dear?” He asked hesitantly, for Vox was staring at the ceiling and had not yet even looked at him. Vox’s eyes drifted around the room before settling on Alastor’s face, widening slightly in recognition, then falling to their clasped hands. There was a sharp rattling intake of breath, and then Vox whispered in a shaky voice.

“Alastor. D-did I do that?”

Alastor followed where Vox was looking and found… his hands, still covered in electric blue lightning scars. Vox looked horrified .

Alastor shook his head, holding Vox’s hand tighter. “Yes, but it wasn’t your fault, dear. I shouldn’t have-“

“I burned you. Fuck I knew this would happen, I need to- Al, let go, I’m not safe to be around.” Vox said, attempting to tug his hand free from Alastor’s hold. Vark whined softly as Vox withdrew his other hand from the shark’s head. Vox’s breath hitched at the sound. He managed to take advantage of Alastor’s surprise and wrench his hand free, before sitting up and shuffling backwards until his back hit the wall behind him. Alastor made to follow, but he threw a hand out.

“Don’t! Just stay there! I don’t want to hurt anyone. That includes you Vark! Stay away!” He shouted, voice trembling, and Alastor felt an awful clenching feeling in his chest. He didn’t know what to do, what to say.

What could he say?

Chapter Text

Before Alastor managed to untie his tongue, Charlie stepped in, kneeling down in front of Vox and reaching out a hand. Vox seemed to press away from it, as if he was trying to meld with the wall behind him. Charlie smiled sadly.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Vox. I’m not an angel, and I’m not a sinner. It’s okay.” She said gently. Her words seemed to have the desired effect, because after a moment Vox extended a shaking hand towards her, and allowed her to make contact. She took his hand, and Alastor saw all the tension bleed out of him as he realised she was unharmed. Seeing this, Charlie shuffled forward and carefully embraced him, and Vox relaxed into her hold.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I thought I had it under control.”

Charlie pulled back and put her hands on Vox’s shoulders. “It’s okay to need help, you know? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

Alastor was surprised at her bluntness. It seemed Charlie had also grown during her time running the hotel, and had developed a sense for reading people that was serving her well. Unfortunately, her responses still left something to be desired, and blunt wasn’t exactly what Vox wanted to hear. He pulled away, shaking his head.

“That’s not good enough. I should be better than that. I need to deal with this.” He said, and Alastor could hear the self loathing in his tone. That wouldn’t do. He shuffled forward, noticing vaguely that Vaggie was no longer in the room behind him. Returning his focus to Vox, he reached out and tried to ignore how Vox flinched away slightly as he got close. He gently took hold of Vox’s jacket, carefully removing it from his friend’s trembling shoulders.

“Don’t want you overheating, now do we?” He said quietly, soft smile on his face. Vox stared at him, stunned silent for a moment, before laughing wetly.

“Yeah, that would really fucking suck.”

Charlie snorted into her hand. Alastor grinned. Vox leaned back against the wall, his expression a combination that Alastor couldn’t quite decipher. That was one frustrating thing about Vox’s face. It was an open book when it came to his emotions, but it was sometimes too open, and Alastor found it difficult to settle on just what it was that Vox was expressing. Especially when the usually energetic, talkative sinner was quiet and still.

It felt wrong to have to rely on Vox’s screen to know what he was feeling, as Alastor was so used to Vox’s tone of voice telling him, or his body language signalling what his words did not. Vox was an actor after all, and facial expression is only a fraction of a performance, and the one that Alastor was least experienced with, having grown up listening to radio shows and seeing live theatre, settings where faces often went unseen. Television always felt too personal, being able to see every micro-expression a person made, but now it was all he had. So he waited, until Vox gave him more to work with.

“Who designed the ceilings?” Vox asked suddenly, and both Alastor and Charlie tilted their heads in sync.

“The ceilings? Why?” Charlie questioned, and Alastor was glad she did, so he didn’t have to. Vox shrugged.

“They’re nice. I dunno, I’ve been staring at them a lot recently.” He said, and Charlie and Alastor glanced at each other.

“I guess these ones were made by my dad, when he rebuilt the hotel, but they were based on the originals. I don’t actually know who designed them.” Charlie said, shrugging slightly.

Vox didn’t respond. Alastor frowned inwardly. Vox seemed… unfocused, which was so fundamentally against his nature that it felt wrong to witness. Vox was always moving, a shark, quick and sharp and whip-smart. To see him suddenly so vague was jarring to say the least. Alastor shuffled forward slowly, until Vox’s eyes landed on him. Even his face was slightly hazy, the lines not as crisp as they usually were.

“Vox, do you know what happening right now?” He said cautiously, taking one of Vox’s hands. Vox tilted his head down to look at their joined hands.

“We’re sitting on the floor? I mean, that’s pretty obvious.”

“Can you tell me why?” He pushed, and Charlie tilted her head in confusion.

“Wait what are you-“ Alastor put a hand out to silence her, his eyes still trained on Vox, whose eyebrows had furrowed.

“I was doing something… I was filming. I had a seizure.” Vox said, seeming to come back to himself. He finally made eye contact with Alastor.

“Al.” He said, and the recognition in his voice was unmistakable. “I don’t know what that was. That’s never happened before.”

Alastor blinked. Never? Charlie waved her hands frantically from beside them.

“Hold on, what was that? You started talking about the ceilings, then you forgot what you were doing! What’s going on?” She looked between Vox and Alastor accusingly, and they both shrunk away slightly. She had her father’s death glare.

“So I’ve been having more seizures than I used to.” Vox admitted, and Alastor slapped his arm lightly in reproach. Vox grinned sheepishly. “Also been freaking out more, but I think you already know about that. But that… not knowing where I was, or what I was doing? That’s never happened before, not even when I was alive.”

Charlie looked unimpressed. “Vox, first of all, those ‘freak outs’ are panic attacks, and there’s nothing wrong with having them, secondly, the hotel is supposed to be a safe place where we share our problems instead of keeping major health issues to ourselves!” Her voice rose at the end, the tiny ends of her horns peeking through her hair as her frustration shone through. Then she composed herself, taking a deep breath and clasping her hands together.

“You came to this hotel and asked for my help. Granted it wasn’t with this, but I made you a promise, one that I intend to keep. But I can’t if I don’t know what’s happening. Please, don’t keep things like this from everyone.”

Vox sighed. Then he nodded, antennae bobbing. “Fine.”

Vox paced around his room, the screens he usually found comforting suddenly suffocating. He ran over the details of his seizure the previous day over and over. He’d been aware it was coming, that was normal. But he’d been drifty when he awoke, in a way that scared him, a way that he hadn’t been before. He’d forgotten what he’d been doing. He’d burned Alastor.

He’d burned Alastor.

Guilt coursed through him, and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, pressing on the still-healing gash until it began to hurt. At least it wasn’t Vark, he tried to rationalise. Alastor was powerful and could heal himself, but Vark was Hell’s equivalent of a normal animal, and would have been injured badly by his electric shocks. The fear of what might have occurred made his breath catch in his throat. He could have killed someone. He could have killed Vark. He pushed on his chest again to ground himself when he realised his breathing was becoming shallow.

His screens reflected his panic, flashing between colours and images erratically, only adding to his headache. He wasn’t in control. He’d hurt Alastor. Without even being conscious he’d burned his best friend. He was dangerous. He could have killed someone. What if someone less powerful, less attuned to electricity, had touched him instead? What if it had been Niffty? Alastor would never forgive him. What if it had been Vaggie? Charlie would kick him out for sure. Charlie might be safe but he couldn’t be certain of it. What if he’d killed the princess? Hell would fall into ruin, Lucifer would smite him into nothingness, or keep him chained in a cell, bound to Hell’s power grid for eternity.

Vox shuddered, his breath hitching. He was dangerous, untrustworthy. It was happening again, just like when he was alive. He couldn’t be left alone, but he couldn’t be around others either. A threat to himself and others.

He was unpredictable.

He vaguely heard knocking at the door, but couldn’t bring himself to open it. He couldn’t afford to let anyone close to him right now. Vox paused his pacing, muted his screens, until the knocking stopped. He had to be better than this. He couldn’t show how much he was affected by this. He was about to start pacing again, but his legs trembled and he chose to sit on the ground instead, before his body forced him there. Hands on the sides of his head, he leant back against the edge of his bed.

“Get it together, come on Vox.” He muttered to himself. “You’re better than this. You can deal with this.” He struggled to believe his own words. How was he supposed to convince others to trust him when he couldn’t even trust himself? How was he supposed to get sinners to give up their souls when he could barely keep himself running?

“You’re an actor.” He snapped at himself, in an attempt to silence those thoughts. “It’s all a front, just don’t let them see behind the curtain. It’s all a show, and you’re a showman dammit!” He slammed a hand into the side of his head, but all it did was make him glitch slightly. The equivalent of a stutter, but enough to spook him in light of recent events. He took a deep breath. He needed to handle this. He wouldn’t make his health someone else’s problem.

He wouldn’t make it Alastor’s problem.

Alastor was pacing around his room, the bayou that was usually calming now making him feel uncomfortable, a display of power he could no longer summon. Without his microphone he was severely lacking in ability, and as much as he hated admitting it, even to himself, he could not ignore his own limitations if he wanted to help Vox.

Charlie was sitting in his armchair, and he was too mentally preoccupied to care. She had her arms wrapped around her torso in an attempt to self soothe, which was clearly not working if her rushed muttering was anything to go off.

“What are we going to do?” She said suddenly, running her hands through her hair, dislodging strands from her previously neat ponytail. Alastor paused his pacing, turning to face her.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate, my dear.” He deadpanned, his shadow crawling up the wall behind him, unimpressed expression on its face.

“About Vox! Alastor we have to help him.”

He rounded on her, grin stretched into a snarl. “And what do you think I’ve been trying to do? Hmm? Watch him run himself into the ground? He won’t let me help him!” His antlers grew, and she shied away. He pulled back, sighing as he returned to his regular form.

“Vox is stubborn.” He said sharply. “He will not allow me to attempt anything to help him, too set on doing everything himself.” Charlie opened her mouth to speak again, but he beat her to it. “You are not helping, you should go.” He snapped. Charlie blinked, affronted, but he turned away. She sputtered for a moment, then stood.

“Fine.” She said, not unkindly. “I get it. You don’t like asking for help either. For the record, I want to help Vox too.” Then she quietly left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Alastor stood fuming. How dare she imply that he wasn’t doing enough to help Vox! How dare she! He growled to himself, then stopped because standing in a room alone and growling at nobody was stupid. He shook his head, but failed to dislodge the anger. He had offered his aid to Vox weeks ago, he had sworn to find a way to fix the situation, but Vox had refused! Enough was enough. Alastor was ready, he had made serious progress with his control of electricity, and he was going to help Vox now.

He stormed down the hall, admittedly not really far enough for effective storming, to Vox’s room. He would have preferred to travel through his shadows, but that particular ability had been come-and-go since the loss of his microphone, and he didn’t want to end up in the wrong room. He threw the door open without knocking, revealing a startled looking Vox sitting on the floor leaning against the side of the bed. In an instant his anger dropped from a wildfire to a simmer, replaced somewhat by concern. Vox looked so tired.

“Alastor.” Vox straightened up slightly, eyebrows raising. “Are you okay?”

The fact that Vox was concerned about his well-being sparked Alastor’s anger to return.

“I am fine, it is you I am worried about.” He closed the door behind him, with slightly more force than was probably necessary. “You are foolish.”

“Me?” Vox said, affronted. “I haven’t done anything!”

“Exactly. You have not allowed me to help you, and you refuse to take care of yourself. I am certain I can help, if you would only let me!”

Vox suddenly looked devastated, and Alastor wondered if he’d gone too far. Vox was no longer looking him in the eye, and was instead focused lower, seemingly looking for something. After a moment Vox dropped his gaze to his lap, where his hands were resting, and Alastor realised Vox had been staring at his hands. His hands that were still marked with electrical scars.

“It wasn’t your fault Vox.” He said softly, and when Vox didn’t react, he moved closer, sitting down beside him. He reached out and took one of Vox’s hands, entwining their fingers, and was silently relieved when Vox didn’t flinch away.

“Actually, I rather like it. Quite a unique marking, from a unique demon.”

“You’re just saying that.” Vox’s voice was tinged with bitterness that didn’t suit him. That wouldn’t do.

“I am many despicable things my dear, but a liar is not one of them. You know that. I mean what I say.”

“I know it hurt you. I could feel your frequency wavering.” Vox said blankly. “I hurt you. I could hurt others. I could kill someone.”

“As if we all haven’t done that before.” Alastor said flippantly.

“I tear apart angelic steel, Alastor!” Vox rounded on him, but thankfully did not pull his hand away. Alastor paused. Vox sighed, running his other hand down his screen. “I burned Lucifer for fuck’s sake. I don’t know what I’m capable of. If I could kill someone… permanently. Last time I killed someone I was alive, and not in my right mind, and I killed myself not long after!” He paused, screen dimming slightly.

“I like the hotel, Alastor. I actually like living here, with these weirdos. And with you. I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t want to hurt you.” He said, and Alastor realised this was not just Vox refusing to accept help, but attempting to protect those who wanted to help him. Noble, if stupid. Still, Alastor understood. He’d felt the same way when he’d first started killing, and was forced to lie to his mother in order to protect her from what he was doing. He’d hated deceiving her, but her knowing the truth would have been more painful. It had been necessary.

“Tell me what I need to do, for you to let me help you.” He said quietly, radio filter barely present. He wanted Vox to know he was serious about this.

“Wait. I have a plan, but I need more time.” Vox said, and Alastor was mildly surprised at how calm he sounded. How certain. “I’ll let you try whatever it is you want to try, but only when I know it won’t hurt you. I won’t risk that.”

“Okay. I will wait.” Alastor gave Vox’s hand a gentle squeeze, and was pleasantly surprised when Vox returned the gesture. “I trust your judgement.”

Vox grinned. “That’s all I ask.”

That evening, Vox looked over the blueprints that were spread across his workbench, and smiled. He had finally collected all the parts he needed, and was ready to start construction. Gathering power to his hands and ignoring the ache in his chest, he cracked his knuckles, and sparks jumped between them.

“Alright. Let’s begin.”

Chapter Text

Vox wasn’t sure where he was. He knew he was safe, because he could feel Alastor nearby, but he wasn’t exactly sure where. He was trying not to worry about it. He was focused on… something. Fuck, what had he been focusing on? He’d been doing something important too, something he really needed to do. Possibly… building something? But that didn’t make sense, he didn’t build anymore. He had machines for that, he didn’t need to fix things himself anymore. But he had been building something, he was sure. Vox was sure he’d been making something, and if he could only figure out where he was, then the rest would come soon after.

Hopefully.

Alastor. It was something to do with Alastor. An electric current sparked its way up his body and jumped between his antennae, and everything seemed to click back into focus. Alastor’s microphone, he was making Alastor a new microphone. He took a deep breath. Since the first time after his seizure a few days before, he’d been having periods of confusion, where he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing of where he was. He’d woken in the middle of the night and panicked when he didn’t recognise his surroundings, and had been beside himself until Vark jumped up on the bed and managed to calm him down. He hadn’t gone back to sleep.

Returning to his workbench from where he’d been wandering aimlessly around his bedroom, he sat down and surveyed his progress. He’d completed the staff portion, the easy part, and it was lying to the side. It was mostly black like before, though now with subtle accents of angelic steel that he’d managed to scavenge from the area around the hotel, still lying abandoned after the battle. The head of the microphone was giving him slightly more trouble. He had all the parts but one, arguably the most important, the centre mouthpiece, the part that actually magnified and recorded sound and radio waves.

He dropped his head to his hands with a groan. His chest hurt and he was tired. As much as he wanted to finish the microphone as quickly as possible, he realised that there wasn’t much he could do while missing a major part, and decided, rather uncharacteristically, that a break might be in order. Possibly also a drink.

He found Husk at the bar as usual, and Angel with him, which was quickly also becoming a norm. They both waved as he approached, and he raised a hand in response.

“How you doing kid?” Husk questioned cautiously, and Vox chuckled as he took a seat.

“As well as I can be I guess. You saw what happened.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but didn’t totally succeed, if the sympathetic look on Husk’s face was anything to go by. Angel seemed to sense his avoidance of the subject and quickly switched tracks.

“So I saw your little commercial the other day, you plannin’ on ownin’ souls again?” He said casually, leaning on one set of arms while the other set held a drink on the bar. Vox grinned.

“Yeah. Thought I’d put the offer out and see if anyone responded.” He shrugged. Angel laughed.

“Oh you’ll get responses! When sinners hear an offer like that they’ll come running, believe me, I know.” He said, sobering slightly at the reminder. Husk knocked on the bar and Angel brightened, turning to smile at him. Husk turned to look at Vox, smiling wistfully.

“I’m happy for you, kid, I’m glad you get a second chance at the whole overlord thing.” He said, seeming genuinely pleased. Vox withheld a grimace. Husk knew well what it was like to lose overlord status, having lost his own soul gambling against Alastor.

“I wish we both could.” Vox wasn’t sure why he said it, and from the looks on Husk and Angel’s faces, they hadn’t been expecting it. Vox’s screen brightened with staticky blush.

“I just mean that it would be just like old times, you know? When we were all overlords together and would cause trouble at meetings and I’m gonna stop talking now.” He finished lamely, taking hold of the drink in front of him and downing it. Fuck that was stronger than he expected. He coughed, then winced when it hurt his chest again. Husk chuckled.

“They were good times. Long time ago now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to stop him. Though I’m not sure if I could have.”

Husk waved him away. “I’ve made my peace with it. Nothin’ you could’ve done.”

Husk gave him a sad smile and it made his chest ache. Angel was suspiciously quiet. So much for breaks being good for him. Wait, what was he taking a break from again? He never took breaks, that didn’t make sense. What was he talking about? No, no! Focus, Vox! he told himself, but he wasn’t sure what he was meant to be focusing on. Had he been talking to someone? He must have been, because suddenly there was a hand waving in front of his face, and two more hands gripping his shoulders, and they were attached to people, people he was pretty sure he knew. He knew them from… somewhere. They were saying something. He should respond. That’s why they were so close, because he wasn’t responding. He raised his hands, ignoring the slight tremble.

“Calm down, I’m fine.” Vox hoped he sounded convincing. They were still talking, but they weren’t touching him anymore, so he must have said the right thing. Good. A couple of smiles and they went back to talking to each other. He wrapped a shaking hand against the glass on the table. It was empty. Why was he holding an empty glass? He wasn’t sure.

They turned to him again, and he floundered for a moment as he tried to think of what to say. What had they been talking about? Their expressions were expectant, but with a hint of sadness, so he settled on the first thing that came to him.

“Yeah, really unfortunate.” The statement was vague, hopefully enough so that it fit whatever they’d said. They didn’t question it, and Vox was filled with relief. He began trying to figure out where he was. He wasn’t at his tower, there was no large tanks or calming blue light. It was all red. Red, he liked red. It reminded him of someone. Wait, who did it remind him of? There was someone important to him that wore red, he was sure. Who was that?

Lacking other inputs from regular senses, he stretched out his frequency senses, feeling for anything familiar. There was something. A lower frequency than his electric energy. A radio wave frequency. He knew that signature.

Alastor. Alastor was nearby. He was in the hotel. Vox was sitting at the bar, and Husk and Angel Dust were there, and they were talking about… something. He wasn’t sure of what yet. He could see them talking, and he knew his audio sensors were working, he just wasn’t processing their words. They turned to him again, faces openly hopeful, Husk hesitant and Angel borderline pleading, and he panicked. They were asking him for something.

He tilted his head, pretending to consider the question while he frantically determined what to say. He briefly entertained the idea of telling the truth and asking them to repeat the question, but that would only cause more problems. Not what he wanted. Best to go with another vague answer then. Pretend it was a press conference.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t guarantee anything.” He said, and Angel’s face lit up.

“Wait you will?” Husk raised his eyebrows. Vox was too relieved that he finally processed words to question his surprise. He nodded. Suddenly there were four arms around him as Angel surged forward and embraced him.

“Woah, it’s no big deal.” He said hesitantly, as he didn’t actually know what he’d agreed to. Fuck, he couldn’t be doing that. You could get in a lot of trouble in Hell by agreeing to things without knowing what they were.

“No big deal?” Husk exclaimed. “If you pull this off I’ll owe you for the rest of my afterlife.” He shook his head. “Kid, that’d be a real second chance.”

Vox hid the sinking sensation he felt behind a confident smile, confidence he was not feeling. He had a bad feeling he knew what he’d promised.

Alastor was going to tear his hair out. He was standing in front of Charlie and Vaggie’s room, ears pinned back and hands twitching. His shadow scowled from behind him, until he banished it with a flippant wave. It wouldn’t do to have any vulnerability right now. He wished it hadn’t come to this.

A broken television set lay abandoned in his room.

Alastor knocked on the door. Charlie answered mercifully quickly, Vaggie close behind her, and Alastor’s smile sharpened. He had hoped only Charlie would be present to witness him make a fool of himself. Charlie perked up when she saw him, smiling brightly. Too brightly if you asked him.

“Alastor! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what’s up?”

“The ceiling.” He growled, and despite Vaggie raising a judgemental eyebrow at the response, Charlie sobered and opened the door wider.

“Alright, come in.” She turned to Vaggie. “Could you give us one minute, babe?” Then she paused and glanced between Vaggie and Alastor. “Actually, I’ll meet you downstairs. This might take a little while.”

Vaggie nodded, gave Charlie a quick kiss on the cheek, then made her way towards the main staircase. Alastor followed Charlie into her room and took a seat opposite her in the sitting area.

“So?” She prompted, looking at him expectantly. Alastor growled, this was not going his way the way it did last time it was just the two of them in this room.

“I’m missing something. He won’t let me try but even if he did, I’m not certain I could do it.” He said through gritted teeth. His hands were clenched in his lap and he despised how relaxed Charlie looked. As if she wasn’t worried at all.

“Look Alastor, Vox is an adult, and is in charge of his own health. We just need to offer support and help if he wants or needs it. We can’t force it on him.” She said gently.

“How old are you, princess? Mentally?” He snapped, and she blinked, clearly not expecting the question.

“Uhh, early twenties, why?”

“Vox died at twenty-six. Barely older than yourself. You think he is fully capable of caring for himself? Ha! Vox is capable of very many things, but being responsible for his own health is not one of them.” He said, and she paused and seemed to consider his words. Then she smiled, a smile much too like his own.

“I don’t think Vox’s capabilities are the reason you’ve come here today.”

Damn him for giving advice. She threw it right back in his face. Alastor drew himself up in his chair, straining to maintain his normal form due to his anger. How dare she imply he wasn’t capable. He was the only one doing anything! He felt his angry static growing and tried to dampen it down. It wouldn’t help him to be angry in this situation. He took a moment to compose himself.

“I suppose not. We both know why I am here. Are you going to help me or not?”

Charlie seemed to fold into herself at that, running a hand through her hair. Ah. He had reached the end of her bluff.

“Look Alastor, I’ve been looking into it, and I think you should go to my dad.” She waved her hands placatingly as he started to growl. “Angelic wounds are really serious Alastor. I couldn’t heal Vox the first time, so I won’t be able to help now, not in a way that matters.” It seemed to pain her to admit her own helplessness, and for once Alastor understood feeling useless at the idea of not being able to help someone. Charlie pushed on.

“Dad might know something, or be able to do things we can’t. He’ll help, I know he will.” She looked sure of herself, but there was a touch of doubt in her voice. Alastor was feeling his own doubts at the king’s ability considering Vox had still not healed from his wound, and was suffering additional negative effects.

“No. If anything he is the reason Vox is in this mess. He failed to properly heal him once, you think I will give him a second chance? I believe that is your domain, not mine.” He grinned sharply, but this time, Charlie did not shy away. She met his rebuttal with horns exposed.

“My father is the reason Vox is still alive! If you care at all about Vox, you’ll put aside whatever you have against my father and at least give him the opportunity to help. You’ve made it very clear you don’t want me getting involved, so I won’t ask him. If you want to help Vox, you’ll put your pride away and ask for my father’s help yourself.” She snapped, and suddenly Alastor found himself back in his own room. Whipping his head around to process his sudden change in surroundings, he realised he had not been in control of his travel. Charlie had moved him herself.

She was coming in to more power.

Still fuming, Alastor thought over what she’d said. The most annoying part, the fact he truly despised, was that she was right. Vox was alive due to Lucifer’s intervention. Alastor had felt his heartbeat weakening, the electricity fading from his shattered head, the vital liquids pouring out of that awful gash in his chest, until Lucifer had knit him back together. Momentarily consumed by rage, Alastor turned and grabbed the closest thing he could reach, a mug left on his workbench, and threw it against the wall. It almost hit his bookshelf, shattering against the wallpaper beside it, and it stopped him cold. Sitting on the bookshelf barely a foot from where the mug had contacted, was a framed picture of him and Vox.

The night was shaping up to be perfect, and for once there had been not a single fight broken out. Everyone was behaving well to welcome the newest overlord to the metaphorical club. Alastor was prowling the room, surveying the party around him with mild interest. There were very few people he actually cared for here. One of those few sidled up to him.

“Well Alastor, look at that. You were right.” Rosie said, grinning proudly. “He actually had it in him.”

“He sure did.” Alastor said. He was secretly as proud as Rosie looked, but this was not the time or place to show it. Instead, he left Rosie with Carmilla and crossed the room to find the subject of their conversation.

Vox was unfortunately central in the crowd, but as soon as he spotted Alastor coming he bowed away from the congratulations and waved him over to a quieter corner.

“Some party, huh? You overlords really know how to celebrate.” He laughed, and Alastor’s smile softened.

“Don’t forget, ‘you overlords’ includes you too now my friend.” He said, putting a hand on Vox’s shoulder. “You’ve well and truly earned your place, and that title.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Al. Thank you for taking a chance on me.” Vox said, expression genuine in a way that almost made Alastor recoil. That kind of vulnerability was rare in Hell, and previously nonexistent for an overlord. However, Vox had always been different.

“Nonsense, my friend! I’m certain you would have gotten here sooner or later. It may have taken you a little longer without my aid, but you would have inevitably succeeded. I’m sure of it.”

Vox’s face turned staticky, a sign Alastor had come to recognise as a blush. He ducked his head, grinning, and Alastor found it amusing that someone so used to having eyes on him could be undone so easily by a few compliments. He summoned a drink and handed it to Vox.

“Here you go. A toast!” He called to the room, effortlessly projecting his voice so everyone heard. “To our newest overlord, the first in over twenty years, and officially the youngest to ever earn the title!”

The crowd cheered, then raised their glasses and drank. Alastor clinked his glass against Vox’s.

“You’ve made it, picture box.”

“I guess I have.” Vox seemed slightly stunned, then he downed his drink and grinned. “Come with me.”

Alastor allowed Vox to take his hand and lead him across the room, towards the photographer. As they approached, Alastor pulled away, ears pinned back.

“Ah, Vox, you know I’m not fond of visual media. This face was made for radio after all.” He said, static humming. Vox however, was undeterred.

“Come on Al, it’s just a photo, you had cameras when you were alive. And you’ve got just the expression for it.” He said, grinning mischievously. Alastor sighed, and Vox brightened.

One blinding flash later and the moment was immortalised. Alastor took the photograph from the cameraman and shook it slightly. When the image sharpened, he was met with the sight of the two of them standing side by side, the distance barely enough to be professional. Vox was grinning like an idiot, and Alastor himself was smiling as usual, but he looked… relaxed. Genuine. He made to show Vox the photo, but he’d already vanished into the crowd, pulled away by other overlords wishing to congratulate him on his success.

Alastor smiled softly. He’d show Vox the photo later.

He never had shown Vox the picture. He carefully set it back on the bookshelf, then waved a hand to repair his mug. The shattered pieces didn’t move. Alastor paused, and his shadow frowned. Without his microphone his powers were proving to be unreliable.

Unhelpful.

Alastor sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, Lucifer was powerful, far more powerful than he himself was, and had the potential to right Vox’s condition. He absolutely despised the idea of asking for help- the idea that he needed help- but if that was what it took to help Vox, then that was what he would do.

Even if it meant asking Lucifer for help.

By the time Vox managed to escape the conversation at the bar and retreat back to his room, he was thankfully fully aware of what was going on. However, that awareness came with an uncomfortable sensation in the back of his mind, as if someone was knocking and refused to be ignored. He sank onto his bed, head in his hands, refusing to even think about what he may have promised. That would be future Vox’s problem.

Current Vox was being nuzzled by his very affectionate shark pup, and he let Vark curl up on his lap and press gently against his chest with his soft nose. Vark had been surprisingly gentle with him since the battle, and he wondered not for the first time just how intelligent Vark was, how much he truly understood.

“What do you think Varky, about me being an overlord again? Do you think I can? Am I doing the right thing?” He asked softly, and Vark swished his tail gently from side to side. Vox took that as a yes. He scratched around Vark’s gills and the shark let out a contented sigh. Then Vox paused.

Overlord. He was trying to be an overlord. He’d put out a broadcast to gain souls. In all the mess that had followed, he hadn’t thought to check for responses. He turned on the closest screen and brought up the inbox that was allocated to any expressions of interest, contracts waiting to be evaluated and signed. Vox’s eyes widened, and he suddenly understood the reason for his headache.

There were thousands.

Sinners from all areas of the city had sent contracts for their souls, and they were all here waiting expectantly to be either signed or rejected. Vox realised suddenly that he may have underestimated his own reputation. That, or he was offering a deal good enough that any down-on-their-luck sinner was jumping at the chance to take it. Possibly a combination of both. He took a deep breath as he read through the first few applications. Sinners were almost desperate to give him their souls, to be under his employ and under his protection. He supposed his show during the battle had been an effective reminder of his power, and sinners lower on Hell’s food chain were keen to be on his side. He switched off the screen, trying to process the frankly overwhelming response.

“I guess that answers one question, huh Vark. I’m definitely going to be an overlord again. Fuck, I just hope it’s enough.” Vox muttered to himself. Then he laughed as Vark licked his screen, the shark pup’s version of a congratulations.

Chapter Text

For the first time in weeks, Vox was excited. It had taken almost a full day, but he had sorted through every application he’d received from sinners hoping to enter a contract with him. There had been a few that were duds, whether they’d failed to include the correct information, or they were prank applications, but they were few and far between, which left the vast majority of the applications, accounting for over four thousand, to be genuine. Vox hadn’t realised there were that many unowned souls left in Hell, and somewhat more surprisingly, that many souls that wanted to be owned by him.

He’d even recognised some of them, souls he’d owned before when he was an overlord the first time. At least half of his previous staff would be returning, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad. This way he could be certain to have some reliable workers along with the new additions. He wondered if they were angry about his abrupt termination of their contacts. Maybe he’d have to apologise for that one.

Wait. No. He was doing all this to be evil, to own souls and avoid gaining Heaven’s attention. The last thing he wanted to be doing was apologising. Or be considerate of others’ feelings. Vox ran a hand down his screen absentmindedly, the other hand occupied with scratching Vark behind the gills, his favourite spot. Funny, he thought to himself, that despite his reputation as a ruthless businessman, he really wasn’t very good at the whole “evil” thing. He sure didn’t look the part at that moment, dwarfed by the large shark pup currently lounging on top of him.

“What do you say Varky? You think I’m ready?” He said softly, and Vark looked up at him, tongue lolling happily. Vox laughed, then gently nudged Vark off of his lap, ignoring the quiet whine the shark let out. He shook his head.

“Not while I do this, okay? Gonna be a lot of energy happening. Hey, maybe I won’t be so tired anymore.” He muttered the last part mostly to himself, a wry smile on his face. He hoped the effects weren’t too noticeable and that it wouldn’t bother the other residents of the hotel, and then he remembered he was meant to be being an asshole, and mentally took it back. He summoned the first contract to his primary monitor. Raising his right hand, he touched his pointer finger to his mouth as though he was wetting a pen, and signed his name on the dotted line.

All the lights in the hotel surged.

Vox inhaled sharply as sparks jumped around him, and was glad he’d gotten Vark to move. Okay, one down. Four thousand, six hundred and fifty-seven to go. The good thing about technology, or one good thing, was that once he’d signed the first contract and it registered as valid, Vox could transfer that signature to all the contracts in one go. Was this a good idea? Probably not. He’d done it before, but never at this scale, but he really didn’t want to spend another day signing every application by hand, so the quick way it was. He glanced behind him. Vark was still waiting expectantly for more pets, his tail swishing back and forth. Vox hesitated. If one soul was enough to make him spark, what would thousands do?

“Vark, go find Fat Nuggets, okay? Go play!” He encouraged, and Vark insanely perked up further at the sound of the pig’s name, before rushing off to go find him. Vox relaxed. With Vark somewhere else in the hotel, whatever happened in this room wouldn’t be any trouble.

Quickly inputting the commands before he psyched himself out, Vox signed the rest of the contracts and transferred ownership of thousands of souls to himself. For a moment nothing happened, and a spiralling loading graphic appeared on the screen, then it was replaced by a green “accepted” symbol.

There was a bright flash of electric blue, and Vox’s eyes widened at the overwhelming rush of energy, unable to react before his screen went black, the rest of Hell following closely after.

Luckily for Vox, the blackout didn’t last long enough for anyone to panic, and his brief loss of consciousness did not become a seizure. When Charlie burst in he was already picking himself back up on shaky legs, with a steady enough smile that she didn’t hover, though she did give him a doubtful look that implied there would be questions later. As soon as she left, Vox collapsed into his chair and Vark pushed his nose into his lap, having followed Charlie in.

Also luckily, Alastor did not notice the outage, due to fact that his current location was the one place not connected to Vox’s grid, unlike the majority of Hell. Alastor did not notice Vox’s outage, because he was standing at the front door of Lucifer’s palace.

Alastor didn’t want to knock. He didn’t want to ask for help. He did not want to talk to Lucifer. But he also didn’t want Vox to have any more seizures. That desire ultimately won out. He raised a fist and knocked on the door, politely at first, he considered himself a well mannered man after all. There was no answer, and Alastor’s patience ran thin quickly. He began pounding forcefully on the door, each impact reverberating around the entryway until he heard movement from inside.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on-“ There was a crashing sound, then the door swung open to reveal Lucifer himself, whose expression switched from interest to annoyance when he realised who had knocked. Alastor noticed that his hat was missing and there was a large pile of what looked like rubber ducks behind him. Interesting.

“What do you want?” Lucifer deadpanned. Alastor laughed.

“Your majesty! I merely wish to speak with you about a… rather personal matter. If you let me in then we can get right to it!” He grinned widely, a perfect balance between trustworthy and threatening. Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“Fine.” He shrugged. “This may as well happen.”

The next second they were both seated in a cozy lounge area, a low coffee table placed between the two armchairs they were each sitting in. Alastor reeled slightly, and understood suddenly why Vox hated his shadow portals so much. It was disconcerting to be moved by forces that were not your own. Then he looked around. The decorations were reminiscent of the hotel, which meant it was possible that Charlie had based the hotel decor on her childhood home, or that Lucifer had built the hotel to begin with. Either option had its own fascinating implications, but Alastor wasn’t here for his own purposes. He was here for Vox.

“So,” Lucifer began, after taking a sip from a teacup filled with something that did not smell like tea. “What are you doing here? Because despite what Charlie says, I know you’re not without ulterior motive. So what is it? Come to bargain for more power? Want freedom from your deal?” He said casually, and Alastor bristled. How-? Steeling his smile, he brushed off Lucifer’s comments. Time to get to the point.

“You failed to fully heal Vox, and he is experiencing complications with his health. My goal here is to fix that.”

Lucifer seemed to deflate, running a hand through his hair, and he suddenly looked much older, a hint of his true age peeking through. His previous hostility evaporated and he levelled Alastor with an indecipherable look. Then he sighed.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly. Alastor blinked at the unexpected response. Lucifer sighed again, and Alastor wondered absently how he still had air to sigh with, since he hadn’t visibly inhaled once. After a moment Lucifer continued, and his voice sounded tired.

“I can’t help you, you know. I may be king of Hell, but I’m still an angel. That’s the problem. Angelic energy just doesn’t mesh well with you sinners, especially Vox. You know what he does to angelic steel?” Lucifer paused and Alastor nodded.

“Well, that’s what angelic energy is doing to him. I did repair the physical damage, but the wound won’t heal because his body is rejecting the healing.”

“You knew this would happen?” Alastor’s voice was tinged with static and fury. Lucifer stared at the ground in front of him.

“No. I’ve never healed a sinner before. Never thought I’d ever find one worth the effort, and when I do it doesn’t even work. Ironic, huh.”

“I don’t give a fuck how ironic you find this situation, you will find a way to heal Vox or I will tear you apart, starting with your ridiculous wings!” Alastor’s voice rose as he spoke, until tentacles filled the room and his shadow was looming over them.

Lucifer had the gall to look unconcerned. He looked at Alastor like he was some kind of puzzle to be solved, and then the bastard grinned.

“How does it feel to be powerless to help the one you love?” Lucifer stood abruptly and suddenly all of Alastor’s instincts were screaming for him to back down. He ignored them, and widened his grin even as Lucifer leaned closer.

“You have no power over your circumstances, and no power over me. Doesn’t that just eat you up inside? To not be able to do anything to help him?”

Alastor reeled back, his shadow betraying the terror he felt. Lucifer sat back in his armchair, looking almost bored, and Alastor could breathe again, despite not realising he’d stopped. He noticed Lucifer’s gaze trailing over his shadow and tried to banish it, but it refused to go, remaining stubbornly on the wall behind him, unhappy expression on its version of a face.

“Unusual.” Lucifer mused, eyes trained on the shadow. “Why, I wonder, were you allowed to keep that?”

“That is not what I am here to discuss.” Alastor snapped, and Lucifer blinked, his demeanour softening.

“You really do love him, don’t you?” He said, and Alastor had never more wanted his shadow gone, as in that moment it too softened, expression turning fond. Alastor’s smile settled into something more genuine. There was no point denying it now.

“Yes. I do.” He paused, considering what was left of his pride. Well, he’d come this far. “Your majesty please, if there is anything I can do to improve Vox’s health, I am begging you to tell me.”

Lucifer stared at him, eyes narrowed. Then he dropped his head into his hands and began to laugh. Alastor felt his static grow and tried to dampen it down, but when Lucifer looked up again, he looked almost proud.

“You’re a lot like me. More than either of us would like, I think. I know how it feels, to be powerless to help the ones you care about. So I’m going to give you what I was denied. There is a way for you to help Vox.”

Alastor’s eyes and grin widened as Lucifer spoke. They quickly sharpened again when the king pointed to his shadow, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You’re a bit of a special case, but I think you might just be able to pull it off.”

Vox couldn’t sleep. He could barely sit still. He hadn’t owned souls in years and now he had thousands, so he was buzzing. Literally. He was so charged with electricity that he zapped almost everything he touched, and had to concentrate on withhold said shocks every time Vark wanted attention. He had more energy than he knew what to do with. It felt as though he’d been tired for years and was finally well-rested. The lights of the city were even brighter than usual. Well, when they were on. Turns out more electricity meant larger crashes, and Vox’s seizures had only grown in both intensity and frequency. He needed an outlet, needed to do something to expel the extra energy, before it only worsened his condition.

So when Charlie hesitantly knocked on his door the next morning, he opened it before she had the chance to drop her hand.

“Oh! Vox, how are you doing? You look… brighter, did you turn your screen brightness up? God it’s early.” She rambled, but Vox just grinned.

“Charlie! Just the person I wanted to see. I have an errand to run and since I figured I wouldn’t be allowed to go on my own, I’d like for you to accompany me! He said cheerfully, showman persona in full effect. Charlie wrung her hands.

“Well it’s not that you’re not allowed to leave, the hotel isn’t a prison after all, or even a hospital, we’re just worried about you. Are you sure you’re up for leaving?”

Vox asked placed his hands on her shoulders and let out a low chuckle.

“Charlie. If I don’t do something in the next hour I am going to overload and shut down.” He looked at her, and despite his smile his expression was dead serious. “I have had fourteen seizures in the last ten hours, and it’s getting really fucking annoying. If you don’t come with me I’m going alone.”

She laughed awkwardly and he pulled back, looking at her expectantly.

“I guess we can go out, if you have things you need to do.” She conceded, and instantly his smile was back in place, bright as ever.

“Wonderful! I’ve already fed Vark and he’s napping in my bed, so we can leave right away!” He said cheerfully, taking Charlie’s arm and practically marching her through the hotel lobby and out the front door, humming as he went and purposefully ignoring the confused stares from the other sinners in the room. He slowed down once they were outside, already feeling better just being out of the hotel. The streetlights glowed brighter in response.

After a while of walking down Hell’s streets, Charlie piped up hesitantly.

“So, where are we going?” She questioned, tilting her head curiously, and Vox grinned.

“To my tower. I need to reconfigure some things if people are going to be working there again, and I want to update the security system. I won’t have souls I own endangered if Valentino or Velvette decide to try anything.”

“You really think they’d attack the tower?” Her eyes were wide, and Vox winced. Even after everything that has happened, she still refused to see the worst in anyone, or perhaps she was still just a little naive.

“I’m surprised they haven’t already to be honest.” He said simply. Charlie frowned.

“But you haven’t even been living there, why would they-“ She trailed off as the building came into view.

The front windows were smashed in, shards of glass littering the floor, and a crude banner had been strung over the entrance, obscuring the VoxTek sign.

‘You can’t trust a machine with wires loose.’

“Oh.” Charlie said softly. “Vox I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like you put it there.” Vox said, in a tone that was going for casual but ended up a little bitter. He strode forward and surveyed the damage. The banner was too high for him to reach, which pointed to Valentino as the culprit. Not that it mattered, because Vox wasn’t intending on picking a fight or enacting revenge for something so small as a broken window and some slanderous words.

Vox carefully picked his way through the mess of glass on the floor, and quickly scanned the rest of the room. He turned when he heard footsteps behind him and saw Charlie following him, hopping between shards of glass as if she was playing hopscotch. Vox suppressed a grin. He turned back to face the rest of the lobby, and it seemed untouched, but something felt off.

“Stay here, I’m just going to check the rest of the building.” He said to Charlie, then zapped into a security camera without waiting for a response. He jumped through most of the floors quickly, finding them untouched, but he stopped once he reached the highest floor, the one he used to live on.

It was destroyed.

The furniture was broken and strewn around, there were shards of ceramic scattered around, the television was smashed, the remote still sticking out of the centre. Cupboard doors were hanging off their hinges, all the contents emptied. As he picked his way through the wreckage, Vox found he wasn’t even angry. If anything he should have expected this. He just felt tired, his previous energy dimmed, now humming under the surface and only adding to his agitation.

Not even his bedroom had been spared. His mattress was shredded and every pillow had been torn apart, and worst of all the whole room was flooded. The shark tank had a large hole punched in it, sending spiderweb cracks throughout the whole structure. There was no question it had been done by one of Valentino’s guns, that glass had been strong.

The thing that really made him pause was the sight of his open safe. He’d left it open when he was here with Alastor, that day felt like a lifetime ago. At least there had been nothing in it. The gun was still lying there on the floor, crumpled. He’d done that himself. That was the day he’d discovered his effects on angelic steel. He’d corroded a bullet, which should have also been around here. He’d left it right next to the gun.

It was gone.

Fuck. So Valentino and Velvette, because there was no doubt in Vox’s mind that they had done this, knew about his wild card ability. Hopefully that wouldn’t become a problem later.

He zapped back down to the lobby and Charlie jumped at his sudden appearance.

“My apartment is trashed, so I don’t think I can move back in here.” He said. “But the rest of the building is fine, so it should be pretty easy to get everything u and running again.”

Charlie blinked. “Oh! That’s good, but I’m sorry about your house. Though, you’re welcome to stay at the hotel for as long as you like. Forever, even!” She said brightly, and Vox smiled.

“I might just have to take you up on that.” He said, shrugging casually and finally managing a casual tone of voice. Charlie bounced in place, clearly attempting to contain her excitement. Vox wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t as though he’d shown any signs of intending to leave the hotel any time soon, though he supposed another permanent resident would be a good look for her project.

“Alright,” Charlie took a deep breath. “That aside, what do we need to do here?” She glanced around, wincing at the broken glass covering the floor. Vox was about to respond when a small group of sinners appeared, cautiously poking their heads around the splintered edge of the glass.

“Oh my satan is it you.” One of them exclaimed softly. The others scolded them quietly while another stepped forward, mindful of the hazardous ground.

“Mr Vox, we want to thank you for accepting our contracts. The accommodations you’ve provided are really great, and we want to start work right away. Could we start now?” The sinner said, and Vox and Charlie stared at them.

They seemed nervous at his lack of immediate response, but Vox was too stunned for words. They were thanking him? Oh that could be a problem. Owning souls was supposed to be a bad thing, something that would take Heaven’s attention off of him, but if the sinners liked it? He hoped Heaven didn’t care enough to check on the actual outcome of his actions. Vox was brought out of his thought spiral by Charlie nudging him gently, and he turned to the sinners, fixing his winning smile on his screen.

“But of course! You can all start right away, beginning with cleaning up this glass and ordering replacement panels. You there-“ He pointed to the sinner who’d spoken. “Good initiative. You can head upstairs and start up the production levels. And you-“ He gestured to the sinner who’d sworn at the sight of him. “Nice reaction. Run back to your apartment complex and gather everyone who’s willing to start. Everyone who starts today gets a bonus.” He said cheerfully, his good mood returning at the thought of some real productivity. “I want this place up and running full capacity by the end of the week.”

Charlie watched in awe as Vox seemed to fall into overlord mode in an instant, delegating tasks and organising projects and people with an ease she herself had never possessed. She’d never seen an overlord actually work before, and what Alastor did at the hotel didn’t seem to count, particularly because when he wanted something done he either snapped his fingers and made it happen, or summoned his own shadow minions to do it for him.

To see Vox commanding actual sinners was something else, because Charlie knew all too well that sinners had nothing but the freest of wills, so their obedience was out of respect rather than lack of choice. These were people who had offered their souls willingly because they saw a fair deal, and Charlie felt herself glowing with pride seeing one of her people provide opportunity to so many others. It was safe to say Vox had earned her respect not only as a person, but as a leader.

It wasn’t long before more sinners arrived. The sounds of construction and the rapid spread of news among lower sinners brought groups of larger and larger numbers until there was a sizeable workforce in the building and Vox was zapping around at frankly dizzying speeds to monitor them all as they settled in to their new jobs.

There were a few he welcomed with handshakes and names, and they greeted him in kind, and Charlie realised Vox was welcoming back old employees as well as gathering new souls. It made her smile, to see him happy. He’d been so down since the first seizure, and she wished there was more she could do to help. She’d never experienced anything like that, any serious health issue or even injury, but she could see it had affected him, and to an extent, everyone else in the hotel as well.

Charlie knew she could be a tad naive at times, but she wasn’t blind. Alastor was the most obvious, of course. He’d been snappy, threatening to eat people more than usual, and his smile was strained more often than not. He flinched every time the lights flickered. Husk had been worried too. Charlie had noticed he’d bonded somewhat with Vox over being former overlords, and seemed almost like a mentor. After all, despite Vox having been in Hell longer, Husk was technically older.

Charlie noticed things like that. She prided herself on knowing people, on knowing her people, which is why when Vox appeared next to her, she noticed several things in quick succession. His smile was beginning to strain, his left eye flickering between swirls and its usual solid red. Then was the temperature. Vox was usually very cool to the touch apart from his head, which Charlie assumed was due to the fact that he had coolant instead of blood in half of his body. Right now she could feel the heat radiating off of him, and with it the feeling of static that made all her hair stand up.

“Vox? Everything alright?” She promoted, eyebrows furrowed. He turned to her, screen brightening.

“Business is up and running and everyone is settling well. I’m glad so many previous staff returned, and I need to get back to the hotel because I’m going to have a seizure within the next half an hour.” He said, his tone never deviating from its upbeat presentation, making Charlie double take.

“What?! Vox why didn’t you say something earlier? We can go right now and we should make it back to the hotel in time, let’s go!” Charlie took his arm as she rambled, only then feeling that he was shaking. They headed for the freshly-repaired front door, but paused when it was violently flung open, revealing an unexpected, and unwelcome, visitor.

“Look what we have here, then! A bleeding heart, and a relic!” A harsh laugh rang out, and Velvette stalked towards them. Vox subtly repositioned himself so he was standing in front of Charlie. Velvette laughed again.

“Holy shit V, when I saw your little ad I almost double died laughing, you really do have an antique for a head! Oh Val’s gonna love this.” She sneered, taking her phone out and snapping a photo, the flash making Charlie blink. Vox stood impassively, but sparks were jumping between his fingers.

“Velvette.” He said lowly. “You’re not welcome here. Leave, now.”

She scoffed, strutting closer. “Like you could tell me what to do. You’re a fucking joke!”

Charlie itched to speak up, but the last time she tried to get involved in a conflict between one of her friends and an ex-Vee, it hadn’t gone well. Vox could handle himself, she told herself. She certainly hoped so, because Velvette was quickly becoming more aggressive in her tirades.

“For the record, we never needed you, and me and Val are more successful now than you ever were. So you may as well crawl back to that tacky hotel to hide away again, because if you think you’ll amount to anything the second time around, you’re even stupider than you look.” She said, getting right in Vox’s face and jabbing a finger in his chest. Charlie winced as she watched Velvette unknowingly poke at Vox’s injury, but Vox showed no reaction other than glaring down at the shorter sinner.

“Velvette. You have three second to step away before I fry your sad excuse for a wig. Then who will look stupid, hm? Doll?” He deadpanned, and Velvette hesitated for a moment before seemingly deciding he wasn’t bluffing and taking several steps back. They were in Vox’s building after all, and her shouting had drawn the attention of several sinners. Seemingly realising she was outnumbered, Velvette played her last card.

“You think you see everything? Well you’re wrong. Val and I are gonna kill you Vox, and when we do, you won’t see it coming.” She tossed her hair as she turned, and Charlie watched as Vox let her go.

“Oh yeah? Well… fuck you!” Charlie yelled once she was gone, and Vox raised an eyebrow.

“Very threatening. Don’t worry, she’s about as subtle as an oncoming train. I’ll see her coming. Now, if you could make sure my head doesn’t hit the floor, I’d really appreciate it.” He said, so calmly that Charlie almost didn’t realise what he meant until his screen glitched and he collapsed on the spot.

Thankfully the seizure was relatively small, and only half the city was blacked out. The first thing Vox did after waking up was set himself a reminder to send more apology emails, then he deleted it when he remembered he was meant to be being evil. Alastor wouldn’t send apology emails. Mostly because he didn’t know what an email was, but the sentiment remained. He did thank Charlie for catching him, and checked her arms thoroughly to make sure she hadn’t been burned.

Once he was back on his feet Charlie insisted they immediately return to the hotel, but there was one more thing he needed to do.

“You cannot tell anyone about this.” He said once they reached the door, Charlie having refused to leave his side and Vox not having the energy to argue. She nodded solemnly, and he got the feeling Vaggie would know about it within the next twenty-four hours. Vox sighed and opened the door to his warehouse, now located almost half a mile under his tower. Charlie’s jaw dropped as she took in the rows and rows of technology, televisions from every era, interspersed with telephones, computers, and cameras. Vox gave a small smile as he made his way to the smaller room off to the side. It was nice that someone appreciated his collection. It took him a moment to locate the item he’d come for, and in that time Charlie caught up with him, gasping softly when she saw the inside of the room.

“Woah. Isn’t this more Alastor’s thing?” She said, leaning close to one of the many radios. Vox hummed, still searching for the right label.

“Yeah, it is.” He said, grinning as he spotted the familiar name. Zenith.

“There you are.” He whispered, taking it off the shelf and dusting it off, even though it was already spotless. Charlie tilted her head when she saw it.

“That one’s pretty, is that what we came for?”

“Yeah. It’s going to solve a problem for me.”

Back at the hotel Vox set the Zenith gently on his workbench next to the completed microphone stand and the remaining scraps of angelic steel. He had all the pieces now. Most importantly, he had souls to draw on, power to burn. He knew he could do it.

A few hours later his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his fans were running overtime, but he’d finally done it. The remains of the Zenith casing sat discarded on one side of the bench, and in the centre was his masterpiece. Dark stained wood surrounding a silver-inlaid microphone, complete with the red eye detailing Alastor had liked so much on the old one. The inner wiring was fine tuned, clean and practical, ready to be infused with Alastor’s power. Vox picked it up and it hummed softly, power already singing from within it.

He’d promised Alastor that Zenith a long time ago, it was about time he came through. After all, he was nothing if not trustworthy

Chapter Text

Alastor arrived back to the hotel with several conflicting feelings. On one hand he was thrilled, because Lucifer had shared the knowledge of how he could heal Vox, with a high likelihood of success. The problem was that it would cost him. It would cost him a decent chunk of power, and it required the giving of something he would really rather keep. How does one weigh the value of a loved one’s health? He sat down at the bar to ponder the question.

There really was only one outcome. Only one outcome that would allow Alastor to continue living with himself. He would heal Vox, damn the consequences to himself. That’s what you do for the person you love. That’s what he would do for the person he loved. He’d give everything he needed to in order to help Vox.

“Alastor! You’re back!”

Ah, speak of the devil. Vox was striding towards him with a positively glowing grin on his screen, seeming more lively than he had since the battle. Alastor’s smile softened.

“Yes, I’m back. I apologise for my absence, though I assure you it was necessary.”

Vox waved away his explanation. “It’s alright, Al. You don’t need to be here all the time, you’ve got your own stuff going on. Anyway, I want to show you something.” He said, rocking back and forth on his heels and reminding Alastor suddenly of a much younger version of himself excited to share his latest scheme or idea for one of their shows. Alastor stood as Vox took his hand and began leading him towards their rooms. They turned into Vox’s room, where there was something laid across his workbench covered in cloth. Vox dropped Alastor’s hand and he was surprised to find himself missing the contact.

“So,” He looked at Vox expectantly. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Vox I am not going to-“

“Close them or I won’t show you.” Vox was grinning so brightly that Alastor found himself playing along, humouring his best friend who was clearly in a very good mood.

“Okay, now hold out your hands.”

“This is ridiculous.” Alastor was smiling, soft and genuine, and there was no ridicule in his voice.

“Just do it.” Vox laughed, and the sound was so musical that Alastor would have done just about anything to ensure he got to listen to that sound for the remainder of his afterlife. He held out his hands, and felt Vox place something in them, something long and thin, smooth and cold. Something oddly familiar.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.” Vox was audibly smiling, pride clear in his voice, and when Alastor opened his eyes he was met with the source of said pride.

It was a microphone. A very finely crafted long stem microphone with silver and red detailing and wooden accents. It felt familiar in his hands despite clearly being brand new. Even the centrepiece was familiar, but in a different way, a way that felt tied to his life before death, where the rest spoke of his afterlife. It was beautiful, from the materials to the craftsmanship, and the whole thing sung with Vox’s signature.

“Is this.. how did you do this?” Alastor said quietly. He ran a hand over the head of the microphone, feeling it come alive under his touch. It felt right. He felt right, complete in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks, not since losing his old microphone.

“Wasn’t easy, I’ll say that much.” Vox shrugged, but then he looked at Alastor with wide, nervous eyes. “You think it’ll do? I know it’s new and you don’t like modern things, but since your old one was destroyed I thought this would be a nice surprise. To thank you for all you done for me. It’ll do, right?” He rambled, and Alastor could only stare, running his hands up and down the thin stem of the microphone.

“Do? My dear this is… it’s wonderful! I am truly lost for words.” He said, and it was true. Someone had finally managed to render the radio host lost for words. That someone was currently grinning like an idiot, so pleased with himself that Alastor couldn’t help but smile. He looked over the microphone again, turning it in his hands. Then he summoned his power, and to his surprise, the microphone responded. Like a feedback loop, it magnified his power tenfold, taking the meagre amount he gave it and multiplying it until he felt like he could take on a legion of angels himself.

“Vox this is… I really don’t know how you managed it. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I was missing.” Alastor smiled genuinely, and Vox ducked his head slightly, still grinning. Alastor stood and brought a hand to the side of Vox’s face, gently tilting his head back up. Vox’s screen was staticky with blush, and he glanced away.

“The centrepiece is made from the Zenith I promised you. Thought it might work better than anything new would, you know?” Vox pointed at the head of the microphone, and smiled bashfully. “I did promise it to you after all.”

“But I never taught you how radios work.”

“I figured it out.” Vox shrugged, grin widening again, a hint of pride creeping in. Alastor laughed softly, looking over the microphone again.

“Now that I have this, I can fix everything. I can get rid of your health issues.” He said quietly, and Vox froze.

“What?” Vox’s voice was barely a whisper as he took a step back. His grin faltered and was replaced by a distraught look. “What are you talking about?”

Alastor grinned wide, eyes bright with excitement.

“Vox, with this, with my full power, I can stop your seizures, solve all your problems!” He said, gesturing grandly. “We may not even need Lucifer’s proposed solution, I can fix everything on my own!”

Vox looked mildly horrified. “You went to Lucifer to try and find a way to fix me? Is that what it’s all been about? All the avoiding me, leaving for days at a time, telling the king of Hell all about my greatest embarrassment? Because you want to fix me?”

Alastor’s grin faltered. He didn’t understand, Vox was supposed to be happy, excited even, but instead he looked devastated. Sounded hurt in a way Alastor never wanted him to sound. He reached out a hand but Vox flinched away, and he tried to ignore how much that stung. He was doing a good thing, but Vox didn’t understand. Alastor was doing this to help him.

Charlie had gathered the entire hotel population sans Vox and Alastor to the lobby, and was currently standing in front of her pinboard holding a long baton. She met the bored and confused looks with a slightly stern look of her own, slapping the baton against her hand.

“Members of the Hazbin Hotel family, yesterday we received a threat against one of our own! We must prepare the hotel for defence once again, to protect our friend! We must stand together, to-“

“Charlie?” Vaggie spoke up, cutting off her rousing speech, and Charlie wilted slightly.

“Who was threatened, and who were they threatened by?” Vaggie asked expectantly, and Charlie grimaced.

“Riiight, I should have started with that. Yesterday when Vox and I were at his tower, Velvette broke in and said she and Valentino were going to kill Vox.” She paused dramatically to allow for horrified gasps, but there weren’t any, only several concerned looks. She continued.

“She also said he wouldn’t see it coming, which I think means the attack is coming soon, since they don’t want Vox to be prepared. I think I speak for all of us when I say we cannot let this happen!”

There were a few nods, most notably from Angel and Husk, and Charlie smiled. It warmed her heart to see that Vox had people who cared about him, especially after being alone for so long.

“Vox has done so much for us and the hotel, and we need to repay that kindness.” She said firmly, though she knew she would get little resistance. “He’s one of us, and we here at the hotel, well, we protect our own.” She turned and gestured at her pinboard.

“We need to re-fortify the hotel, it’s already more secure since being rebuilt but it needs a little more. Next, we need weapons. Not angelic weapons, since we don’t need to kill anyone permanently, but enough to defend against an attack.” With each point she pointed her baton at a different colourful drawing. “Last time we had an idea of what was coming, this time it’s more unknown. It’ll be Velvette and Valentino along with whoever they can muster, so we need info.” She turned back to face the hotel residents, her family, and pointed at them with her baton.

“Husk, you work on fortifications. When I track down Alastor he can help as well. Vaggie, you and Niffty are in charge of weapons, gather all the non angelic weapons you can find. Angel, I need you to tell me everything you know about the Vees. I’ll ask Vox too when I see him next but your info might be more up to date.”

She surveyed her hotel residents proudly as they readily accepted their assigned jobs, and raised her baton like a sword.

“Okay guys, let’s do this!”

While the rest of the hotel residents busied themselves with gathering defences, Charlie and Angel made their way to her rarely-used office to plan. Charlie strode confidently, unwilling to show her nerves at the coming attack, even if they were uncertain when and how large it would be. At least Heaven had given them a date and they’d already known the rough size of the exorcist army. Valentino and Velvette were relatively unknown to her, as were most of the overlords, besides the few she had met. She ran her hands through her hair quickly in an attempt to ease her nerves as she sat down behind the desk, gesturing for Angel to take a seat as well. She returned her pencils and power from a drawer and set them on the desktop, giving Angel a small smile.

“So, tell me everything you know about the Vees.”

“Trust me, you do not wanna know everything.” Angel scoffed, and Charlie cringed.

“Okay, everything relevant.” She amended, and Angel settled more firmly into the armchair.

“Well they both despise Vox for leaving ‘em. Not a good look for them. You don’t wanna know how many times I had to hear Val ranting about how Vox was the cause of all his problems, and Velvette’s not much better. The complainin’ was never ending-“

“Angel! What kind of attack power do they have?” Charlie cut him off, and he grinned sheepishly.

“Oh, right.” Angel sobered slightly, leaning forward. “Val’s saliva is like a drug, anyone he kissed becomes obsessed with him, it’s… it’s really addictive. Velvette used it to make her love potion drug, it’s a slightly less intense version but it lasts way longer. I’d bet anyone who they have contracts for is gonna be dosed, so I’d expect a crowd of sinners blindly following them without much thought behind it. They won’t be soldiers, but they’ll be desperate to look good in front of Val and Velvette.”

Charlie hummed as she finished writing her notes, sliding them over for Angel to check.

“So we’ll be fighting untrained sinners who are blindly following angry leaders, with who knows what weapons or experience.”

“Probably not much.” Angel piped up. “These are all porn stars and models, remember? They’re only good at looking hot, not fighting.”

“Still.” Charlie tilted her head. “Armed and desperate isn’t an ideal combo, and that’s not even counting if Valentino or Velvette can fight. Can they?” She asked Angel, and he shrugged.

“Val’s good with guns, but he’s not much of a brawler. Velvette uses knives, close range and throwing, and sometimes they’re poisoned, but either of them use angelic weapons. Though, if they really wanna kill Vox then they might this time.” Angel said thoughtfully and Charlie added it to her notes.

“Okay, I think that’s everything, thanks Angel.” She smiled, and he returned it, giving her a small salute as he left, no doubt to find Husk.

Alastor wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. Vox had been happy, excited even, when he’d given him the microphone, but in a startlingly short time all those emotions has vanished, being replaced by an awful pained look on his screen that looked far too much alike to the night Alastor left.

“My dear, I only want to aid you, to ease your suffering.” Alastor said softly.

“Well I never asked you to!” Vox snapped, and Alastor felt his own anger spark. He bristled but said nothing, not wanting to risk upsetting Vox further. Vox’s antenna sparked, and he took a deep breath.

“I never asked you to come in and solve all my problems, okay?” Vox’s voice cracked, bursting with emotion. “And I get it, I have all these issues and it bothers you so much because you apparently care about me, but where is this care Alastor?” He gestured vaguely between them, motioning at the empty air. “You don’t listen to me, I asked you to leave this alone, why can’t you? You don’t care what I want, you only care about yourself and how much you want to fix everyone around you because no one is ever good enough for you!” Vox was breathing heavily, sparks jumping around him, and Alastor took a hesitant step back.

“Vox, my dear, that isn’t true-“

“Cut the bullshit Alastor, I saw how excited you were to fix all my fucking problems without needing Lucifer’s help.” There was a bitterness in Vox’s tome that sounded so wrong coming from him, and his shoulders were slumped, shoulders that looked so narrow without his padded jacket. Alastor ached to wrap his arms around Vox, but he had a feeling he would be pushed away, and his hands were occupied with holding his microphone. After so long having no idea what to do with his hands, he’d finally figured it out, only to be rendered unable. He could only watch as Vox continued his tirade.

“I’m just another project to you, like this whole fucking hotel, and Charlie, and Husk and who knows how many others you decided to take an interest in because you got bored one day.” Vox said harshly, the static in the room increasing by the moment. Alastor felt his own frequency heightening, further added to by his new microphone.

“I do care about you!” He finally spoke up, finding himself suddenly desperate to correct Vox’s understanding of his feelings, needing him to know that his words were not his usual manipulations but genuine truths. “More than I ever expected to, and certainly more than I care about anything else. I want to help you because I care about you, not because I think anything is wrong with you.” Alastor said, rather more sharply than he intended, his distress masked by anger. Vox was unconvinced, and glanced around frantically before exhaling sharply.

“Seven years, five months, and twenty-one days.”

“What?”

“That’s how long I waited for you, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me where you went. I thought you were dead, and you didn’t have the guts to tell me when you got back. The whole time I thought you’d left because of me. That I wasn’t good enough and it drove you so fa away that I couldn’t find you. Does that sound like caring to you?” Vox raised an eyebrow accusingly, but Alastor glimpsed the shine of tears gathering in his eyes. Vox pointed a shaking finger at him.

“Admit it Alastor, you don’t care about me more than you care about preserving your own power, your own reputation and status. Why the fuck should I believe anything you do is even remotely selfless?” Vox threw his hands up, and despite the ruthlessness of the words, his tone was desperate, the anger undercut with a sense of profound despair.

For all his eloquence, Alastor floundered. What could he do, what could he say? He took a deep breath, and met Vox’s expectant gaze.

“Vox, please, listen to me. I do not, have never, and will never, think you are broken, or that you need to be fixed.” Alastor paused, taking a deep breath.

“I wish you would see yourself the way I see you, and understand that my desire to help you does not come from a place of pride. The truth is that I am not proud.” He shook his head. “Not of how I treated you. The truth is that I care for you very deeply. What can I do to prove that to you?” He said, and Vox seemed to freeze, clearly not expecting sincerity in response to anger.

For a moment, Vox didn’t speak, didn’t move, just stared wide eyed at Alastor. It was as though time had stopped, and only the soft hum of Vox’s breathing disturbed the otherwise silent room. Vox looked down at his hands, still producing the occasional spark.

“I made a promise to Husk the other day.” He said quietly, and Alastor blinked. That was not what he’d expected.

“I promised to try to convince you to free him.”

Alastor felt his smile pull taut, becoming more like a snarl.

“I don’t remember what I said, I was barely aware at the time, but I consider myself a man of my word.” He paused, bringing his head back up to look Alastor in the eye.

“If you really do care about me, you’ll free Husk from his contract. If you do that then I’ll let you try and heal me.”

Something in Alastor snapped. Here he was trying to save Vox’s life, and the fool himself was using it as a bargaining chip to fulfil a promise to another sinner! All the years he spent with Vox trying to be a mentor, to teach him how to succeed in Hell, and the sentimental idiot still holds stock in his word, placing the well-being of others above his own. It was infuriating, and terrifying, how easily Vox struck deals, deals which did not serve him half as much as they could, despite everything Alastor tried to instil in him.

“You are unbelievable.” Alastor said quietly. “Truly. It amazes me how incredibly moronic you can be. You’d place Husk’s soul above your own health? Why?” The question came out as more of a plead. “I’ll never understand it. Are you really so insecure as to think you matter less than everyone else?”

“How dare you, just because I have some morals, unlike you-“

“We live in Hell, Vox! How many times must I tell you that trust and loyalty don’t exist down here! It’s every sinner for themselves, always has been and always will be! Why can you never put yourself first? Why must you keep your promises? Why do you take blows not meant for you?” His voice crackled with distortion and he took a moment to calm himself. “I don’t understand it, truly, so if you would do me the great honour of explaining it, then perhaps I’ll finally be able to get through your stupid boxy head!” Alastor shouted, voice distorting and antlers growing as he spat the words out.

“Because I never thought I’d end up down here!” Vox yelled back. “I spent most of my time alive either in a hospital or in a studio, so I never expected to end up in Hell, I never did anything! Not until right at the end, when I went fucking crazy and apparently sealed my fate for all eternity. So then I thought, I may be stuck down here but that doesn’t mean I have to abandon all my morals. Maybe if I keep my word, if I can be trusted, then I’ll be better than before, and I won’t lose my mind. Maybe if I’m reliable, then I won’t end up alone again.” Vox’s breathing was ragged, and he let out a sarcastic laugh.

“But apparently the whole universe has decided on a unanimous ‘fuck you Vox’ because despite being in literal Hell I meet the most incredible person, and he makes me genuinely happy for the first time maybe ever, only to turn out to be a total fucking dick! So fuck you, Alastor, if you don’t understand why I keep promises, or take hits meant for you, then that’s your problem, not mine. Why does it bother you so much anyway? Why do you care if I don’t put myself first?”

“Because I love you!” The words tumbled out before he had the chance to think, and Vox’s anger seemed to evaporate. Alastor steeled himself, decided fuck it, and went all in.

“I love you Vox, and I can’t lose you, especially not to something I could have prevented.” Alastor’s voice shook, and his antlers returned to their regular size. “The thought of losing you is more painful than I can stand, so I tried to teach you to be selfish, so you wouldn’t endanger yourself for those who didn’t deserve it, who weren’t worth you risking yourself, including me.”

Vox stared at him, stunned to silence, and Alastor noticed that he was trembling. He stepped forward and gently took one of Vox’s hands, and this time he didn’t pull away.

“I will free Husk, if that is what you need me to do. If that is what it takes for you to let me heal you, then I will do it, because your health means more to me than any soul. Even my own.”

Vox still hadn’t spoken, had not returned Alastor’s confession, and all at once he realised this was how Vox must have felt that night seven years ago, when he admitted something that Alastor had not been ready to hear. Now he could only hope that Vox still possessed those feelings, and the idea that he might not made something ache in his chest.

Then Vox nodded silently, and gently squeezed Alastor’s hand, and Alastor was reminded that even if Vox did not return his affection, he was still his best friend, and nothing would stand in the way of helping him. He’d fight Lucifer himself if he had to.

He would let Husk go.

Vox felt numb. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. He vaguely remembered the sensation of someone holding his hand, and couldn’t bring himself to move and risk losing the feeling. He was almost certain it had been Alastor.

Who’d said he loved him.

The irony of the situation was not lost on him, that they’d managed somehow to switch positions from that night so long ago, with Vox finding himself unable to respond to Alastor’s confession. He’d only been able to stare mutely, barely half aware of his surroundings, until Alastor seemed to realise he wasn’t fully present and left, saying something about Charlie and something about resting that Vox hadn’t quite caught. Why would Charlie need to rest? Was she alright?

It took Vox far longer than he cared to admit to realise Alastor had meant for him to rest, and he was going to find Charlie. That made more sense. Unlike their previous conversation. Or maybe fight was a better descriptor. Vox buried his face in his hands. What had he done? He’d completely flipped out, that’s what. He really was losing his mind this time, wasn’t he? Could barely keep track of where he was, and turned on Alastor, his best friend, the person he loved more than anything, for trying to help. He’d said awful things to someone who was trying to help him. What was he doing?

His chest hurt.

Of course that thought was clear as day. He pressed a hand gently to where the wound was, but nothing changed the constant ache that rested there. It didn’t bleed, didn’t burn, just ached all the time, like a bruise that went right through him and stubbornly refused to heal. It hadn’t changed in the months since he’d received it, no sign of healing past the neat golden stitches Lucifer had sewn in, in the ruins of the old hotel. He wasn’t sure what else Lucifer had done, but he knew it had been really bad. He should probably be glad all it did was ache. Well, besides the seizures and the mental fog. Those he would rather do without.

Could Alastor really fix what Lucifer couldn’t? He certainly seemed to think so, but was he right? Alastor did have a tendency to be overconfident, but he didn’t seem to be about this. If Vox let him, could Alastor really fix this problem?

He seemed to care enough to try.

Not as a power play or a show of strength, but a genuine act of kindness. It was out of character for sure, but so was admitting to having feelings, especially if that feeling was love, and he’d already definitely done that, so maybe there was a chance Alastor was being genuine. Vox couldn’t help but be reminded of the last he’d trusted Alastor. He’d been abandoned.

But Alastor had agreed to free Husk.

When Vox had realised what he’d done by promising Husk an attempt at freedom, he’d panicked, thinking there was no way in Hell, ironic saying, that he was ever going to be able to make good on his word. He never would have expected Alastor to go for it. But he had.

For him.

Vox made up his mind, wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape from his screen. He would give Alastor a chance. One chance, to free Husk and prove that he was genuine. After all, that’s what the hotel was for. Second chances. Especially after he’d fucked up so spectacularly, doing to Alastor what had been done to him.

Alastor had said he loved him. With no double meaning, no carefully chosen loopholes, just blunt and clean. Because I love you. Certain. Vox had fucked up, badly this time. He had to fix this. Turned out they both had something they wanted to fix.

Even if he was terrified that Alastor was bluffing, terrified that Alastor would leave again when faced with a situation he didn’t want to deal with. It really all came down to Alastor giving up Husk, letting go of his pride and a strong soul. If Alastor did what he said he’d do, then Vox would let him try what he wanted to try. He would trust him to help, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Vox needed help.

He needed Alastor’s help.

Alastor was, for lack of a better term, freaking the fuck out. He paced back and forth in his room, feeling far too much like a caged animal for comfort. His microphone was leaning innocently against his desk, unaware of the strife it had caused him. It really was beautifully crafted, down to the finest details, the weight was balanced and it twirled wonderfully. He glared at it accusingly each time he passed it.

Damn his big grinning mouth. He hadn’t explained himself right and he’d upset Vox, again. Then he’d gotten mad at him, which admittedly hadn’t helped. The worst part was that he now knew exactly why Vox felt the way that he did.

He’d confessed, and received no response. It would have stung more if Vox was better at hiding his emotions, but even so, the main reaction had been shock, so the fact remained that Alastor had no idea if his feelings were returned. Vox had loved him once, but the question of whether he still did was at the forefront of Alastor’s mind. He could imagine now what Vox felt like that night, to have been vulnerable and met with only a cold grin and a sudden absence beside him.

At least Vox had stayed, even if he wasn’t fully there. He’d frozen, his only movement being a gentle squeezing of Alastor’s hand, so he’d guided him to the bed and sat him down. Vox had started crying then. Silently and without moving, the tears just started falling, sliding down the smooth surface of his screen and dripping down onto his lap. Alastor was a little ashamed to admit he’d left then, telling himself it was to give Vox a chance to collect himself when in reality it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of his tears. He’d fucked up. He needed to fix this. He ran his hands through his hair, then sighed. It didn’t matter if Vox loved him back or not, he would help him anyway, in any way he could.

He knew exactly what needed to happen next.

Chapter Text

Alastor once again found himself sitting at the bar. Staring daggers at Husk as he polished already-clean glasses and steadfastly ignored him. He wanted nothing more than to leave back to his room, refusing to call it a retreat, and forget all about what he had to do.

But that wouldn’t work. That wouldn’t work because he had to free Husk. He had to release one of the most useful souls he owned for the sake of the absolute fool he’d had the misfortune of falling devastatingly in love with.

That was the other problem. He hadn’t spoken to Vox since his vocal fumble during their argument, and the man himself had not made any efforts to seek him out. Alastor hated that he was now placed in the very situation he’d put Vox in, and found himself missing Vox after only a day. Seven years was unimaginable. Seven years of uncertainty, of doubt and self loathing that Alastor was now experiencing a mere snapshot of and he was hating every second.

He growled lowly, and Husk stilled for a moment before resuming his useless polishing. Alastor ignored it. After all, he wasn’t angry at Husk, not at the moment. Nor was he angry at Vox, even if he was frustrating. No, Alastor was angry at himself.

He’d made a mess, and now he had to face the consequences. He just didn’t want to. It was also irritating that Husk didn’t seem bothered by his presence, more resigned than anything else. Like he was a minor inconvenience rather than a serious threat. As of that moment, he still owned Husk’s soul and expected to be taken seriously. For as long as it lasted.

“Husker,” He began, using the name he knew the feline sinner despised. “I have been asked to do something I very much don’t want to do.”

Husk eyed him suspiciously, putting the glass down on the bar top. “Okay? What do you want me to do about it?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just informing you of the current goings on. You needn’t worry about it.” He gestured flippantly, twirling his new microphone fluidly. Husk followed its movement with his eyes.

“Very nice stick you have there.” He said casually, and Alastor stilled.

“Yes.” He said quietly. “It is.”

He didn’t miss the way Husk’s eyes widened as he walked away, no doubt having been expecting some kind of consequence for the stick comment. Alastor couldn’t be bothered putting him in his place when he’d soon be out of it anyway. Damn Vox and his idiotic morals. They were costing Alastor one of his best souls.

They’d also saved his life.

Alastor sighed as he took up position in the centre of the lobby, tapping into the rarely-used hotel intercom system, grin widening as he projected his voice throughout the hotel.

“Residents of the Hazbin Hotel, please make your way to the lobby immediately.”

If he was going to do this for Vox, he was at least going to put on a show. Make a spectacle of himself so Vox would see how much he meant it. One thing they did agree upon, was that there was little stock in an action nobody witnessed. Presentation was everything. To do a thing such as this without any fanfare would be a disservice. If he was going to free Husk, he would put on more of a show than Vox had when he freed Angel Dust. That had been to spite an old coworker, this was to prove love, so it had to be grander. Really sell the gesture.

They were performers after all, and after putting on a show for so long, it became the default. The difference was that Alastor was usually the one behind the camera. The writer, director, producer. The one pulling the strings from behind the certain. This time he was putting himself front and centre, allowing the whole hotel to witness his gesture. Airing his humbling action to a live audience would surely be enough to convince Vox he was genuine, enough that he’d be allowed to heal his friend. He certainly hoped so. Lucifer’s words wouldn’t leave his head, echoing around as if they were haunting him. The idea that the thing that was supposed to heal Vox was actually poisoning him was a terrifying one, only exacerbated by Lucifer’s parting words to him.

“Oh by the way, I don’t know how much longer those stitches will hold. They’re not meant to be a permanent solution, it’s a band-aid solution at best. It was just the best I could do at the time. Heaven doesn’t exactly gain you in field medicine. So, uh, good luck.”

As the hotel residents began arriving, in various states of curiosity and concern, he noticed a distinct lack of a certain TV headed figure. Charlie approached him at a brisk walk, closely followed by Vaggie, spear drawn.

“Alastor, what’s going on? Is the hotel under attack?”

“Oh no, my dear, nothing of the sort! Whatever would make you think that?” He said, then spoke again before she had the chance to elaborate. “I merely wished for everyone to be present as I fulfil one end of a bargain I made, though the other person involved seems to be missing. Have you seen Vox?”

Surprisingly it was Angel who spoke up.

“He’s in his room. Doin’ something technical I think, he asked me if Vark could play with Nugs while he worked.”

Alastor nodded politely in thanks.

“I’ll have to fetch him myself then. I ask that you all stay here until I return with him.” He didn’t wait for their responses before slipping into shadow.

His shadows were stronger than ever since receiving his new microphone. Travelling was faster and smoother than before, his minions were stronger, even his personal shadow felt more substantial, more tangible, as if the microphone was boosting his very soul. He’d been supplementing it with his own power, slowly charging it up to match his previous power level, and he was making faster progress than he’d expected, since the object itself was proving to be quite powerful. It had also come with a couple of extra surprises.

Electricity finally listened to him. He’d made to turn out the lights the previous night and a spark had flown and hit the switch for him. He’d then fully reconstructed the shattered television set he’d left sitting in the corner, and it worked perfectly. The microphone boosted him similarly to how Vox had on the day of the battle against Heaven.

He could even sense more. The things Vox had told him, about being able to sense energy, see frequencies around powerful objects or people, finally made sense. He had to focus to do it, it didn’t come automatically like it seemed to for Vox, but he could. Even in the short time since receiving the microphone, he’d been analysing everyone in the hotel, and had determined that, unsurprisingly, Charlie was the strongest, followed by Vaggie. Angelic power really was something else. He himself was the strongest of the sinner population, though he was still unsure where Vox sat. That would be interesting information to have at his disposal. He’d have to check when he saw Vox next, which, hopefully, would be very soon.

Vox was putting the finishing touches on his apology gift. Alastor had only been trying to help, and he’d acted awfully, so he figured he’d do something to make it up to him. He’d been unsure what he could do on which short notice, before remembering that most of Alastor’s things had been damaged when the hotel was destroyed, and he hadn’t had the chance to repair many of them. Namely his piano.

How hard could it be to fix a piano?

Turned out it was really fucking hard, and Vox found himself understanding why Alastor hadn’t done it yet. But, a few sleepless nights later and he was pleased with the progress he’d made. Another development he’d been surprised by was Vark’s quick adaptation to his seizures. Despite his attempts to get Vark to play with Fat Nuggets, the shark had been very clingy. He’d learned to recognise the signs that meant a seizure was coming, and was proving very good at warning Vox, sometimes even before he knew it was happening. It was one thing to know sharks could sense electrical signals, but another thing completely to witness it firsthand, and he realised Vark made the perfect service animal for his rather unique issues. It had already begun making his life easier when he got advance warning for seizures and didn’t have to worry about falling and smashing his screen, and Vark was smart enough to know to stay away, so thankfully Vox hadn’t had to shout at him again.

He’d been doing that an awful lot lately, shouting at those he loved, he really needed to stop fucking doing that. Which started with apologising to Alastor by fixing his piano. Thank fuck for online tutorials. He’d managed to take it apart fairly easily, and found the inside not too different to the wiring of a machine, all buttons and strings and switches. He’d begun by carefully removing the outer panelling in order to gain access to the real internals of it, then gone though each string, tightening or loosening until it emitted the perfect frequency. Sound was a kind of wave too, after all, and Vox had very fine senses. Then he adjusted any crooked keys, making sure they all worked and didn’t stick. The piano had luckily been spared from most of the initial blast, but had still taken a considerable fall, and so was very out of place. Still better than completely shattered though. A couple of the outer panels were cracked or splintered, by Vox managed to sand down the roughest parts until they were at least safe, if not smooth.

It wouldn’t have taken as long if he didn’t have to keep pausing to have medical episodes. That had really put a damper on his progress each time. At least now he was almost finished, all the panels were back in place, the keys all played the right notes, and he only had to finish polishing the pedals. Then the door swung open.

“Vox! I have something to show you!” Alastor came bursting in, arms and grin wide. Vox started at the sudden noise, hitting his head on the underside of the piano.

“Fuck! Holy shit Alastor, warn a guy next  time.” He said, rubbing the back of his head. He was still getting used to it being thicker again. Then he stilled. Alastor.

“Alastor!” Vox exclaimed, throwing his arms out in an attempt to cover the piano, but only succeeding in looking stupid. “I was going to come and find you. I mean, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said the things I said to you, I didn’t mean it. Well I meant some of it, but not the parts about you. I-“ He realised he was rambling and stopped, taking a step to the side and gesturing half-heartedly at the piano. “I fixed your piano for you.”

Alastor stilled mid cane-twirl, eyes widening.

“You…” He breathed softly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.” Vox said quickly, tone certain. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I should be better than that.”

“Well I appreciate it, very much. Thank you, my friend.” Alastor smiled softly, then snapped back into the showman persona he’d been in before Vox had shaken him out of it. “I have something to show you as well, if you’ll accompany me downstairs.” He grinned conspiratorially, and Vox barely had time to realise what was about to happen until he was falling into shadow and stumbling into the hotel lobby.

“I still hate when you do that. Can’t fucking believe I gave you that ability back.” Vox grumbled as his head spun briefly, and he waved away Alastor’s almost imperceptible look of concern.

“Okay, what did you want to show me?” He looked at Alastor expectantly.

“That’s what we’d also like ta know.” Angel chimed in, tapping his foot impatiently. It was then that Vox noticed that the whole hotel population, including KeeKee, Vark, and Fat Nuggets, was gathered in the lobby, seemingly waiting for something. Alastor shrugged innocently.

“Now that everyone is present and accounted for, I believe it is time I meet your expectations.” Alastor said with a flourish, and Vox raised an eyebrow. What was he playing at? Despite their recent disagreement, Vox thought they were at the point where they told each other about things like this, and so was confused and a little hurt to realise he’d been left out of the loop.

“After all, I have a promise to fulfil.” Alastor’s cheerful voice broke through Vox’s spiralling thoughts, and he watched as Alastor gestured dramatically with his microphone and summoned a piece of paper to his hand, which Vox knew he could have done without the flourishes. It raised the question of why Alastor was choosing to put on such a show, and for the life of him, or afterlife of him, Vox wasn’t sure.

“Alastor what-?” He began, but Husk interrupted him, pointing at what he realised was a document with a shaking claw.

“What are you doing with that?” He said, voice barely more than a whisper, and Alastor rolled his eyes. It was then that Vox realised what it was that Alastor was holding. The contract for Husk’s soul. Vox felt his own breathing stutter at the realisation, something that should not have been possible with the construction of his respiratory system but that happened nonetheless. Was Alastor actually going to-? He couldn’t even finish the thought with the way his mind kept replaying their fight. Alastor had said he was going to do this, but it was one thing to say it and another to actually go through with it! Because if this was true, then everything else he’d said must also have been true, and that meant Vox had been an even bigger dick than he thought.

“Don’t worry Husker! I wish no harm upon you at this time.” Alastor said, somewhat condescendingly, and Husk frowned, clearly still wary. Charlie stepped forward.

“Alastor, what are you doing? Did you bring us all down here to watch you mess with Husk?” She asked hesitantly, looking more than a little disappointed. Vox glanced between her and Alastor, because if he was right, and he really fucking hoped he was, then her guess couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Of course not, my dear!” Alastor crowed, and Vox’s heart leapt. Charlie blinked in clear surprise, and Vaggie quickly moved to stand beside her, pointing accusingly at Alastor.

“Then what are you doing? You’re clearly up to something.” She snapped, patience running thin. Vox almost wanted to tell them to shut up and let Alastor do whatever he was about to do, but Alastor himself beat him to it.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a show? No appreciation for good showmanship these days.” Alastor winked at Vox, who could only stare, feeling as though he was rooted to the ground, as the contract in Alastor’s hand burst into flames, green fire licking up his fingers until all that remained of the contract was a rain of ash falling to the hotel floor. The next moment was chaos, but through the shouts of shock and alarm, Vox felt a gentle prod at his and Alastor’s private frequency.

‘ See ?’ It seemed to say. ‘I promised I would.’

Vox could only stare for a moment, disbelief and joy fighting for dominance, until eventually joy won out, and a grin spread across his screen. Until he realised what Alastor’s actions actually meant, and subsequently realised what a fucking idiot he was, and he almost laughed. He’d never been so happy to have been wrong.

Alastor loved him, and he’d proven it.

Meanwhile, the rest of the hotel had realised that Husk was not, in fact, dead, and so had calmed down greatly. Alastor grinned smugly, seeming pleased at having scared everyone, as Husk brought his hands to his chest.

“Wha- You cancelled my contract. I’m free.” He said quietly, and was met with shocked gasps. “Why did you do that? I know you loved owning me.” He growled the last part out, and Alastor only shrugged, grin as indecipherable as ever.

“You flatter yourself, Husker. There I things I value much more than owning your soul.” He said, and Vox caught the glance Alastor sent his way, even as fast as it was. There it was. Vox’s brain, half mechanical as it was, finally seemed to fully process what the last few days meant. It wasn’t just that Alastor loved him, really truly fucking loved him, it was that Alastor loved him back . Because he still loved Alastor, of course he did. No matter how much misery it had brought him, he’d never quite managed to stop loving Alastor. He had tried, on nights when the memories had haunted him too painfully, to wipe Alastor from his memory bank, to override the emotions, to dismiss the warnings that shouted at him that his heart was beating faster than it should be at the sight of someone he hadn’t seen in years, but he could either not bring himself to do it, or it just plain wouldn’t work, the stubborn human parts he retained refusing to be controlled like he did his mechanical components.

As he witnessed Angel Dust clear the bar top in an ecstatic leap in order to embrace Husk, tears streaming from the spider’s eyes, Vox found himself with a sudden craving to do the same to Alastor. Instead, he fixed a casual grin onto his screen and sidled up to Alastor as Angel and Husk continued their heartfelt display.

“I guess I was wrong.” He said, nudging Alastor gently. Alastor laughed softly.

“So you were. It’s a little funny, I managed to surprise even myself with this one.” He said, chuckling quietly. “I believe that sees my end of our little bargain fulfilled.” Alastor twirled his microphone casually, but as gracefully as ever, and Vox willed himself not to spark. Damn his easily excitable circuits.

“I suppose it does.” He said simply, almost not believing it himself. “Alastor I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I should have trusted you.” He turned to look Alastor in the eye.

“I do trust you.”

Alastor’s smile softened.

“You’re not the only one who said things they did not mean. I also wish to apologise for my behaviour. I didn’t consider how you would react to what I thought was right.”

“So we both kinda fucked up.” Vox said bluntly, and Alastor laughed. Vox brightened, Alastor wasn’t angry with him at all. He found he wasn’t angry at Alastor either, and as horrified as he’d been when Alastor had first offered to help him, he realised he didn’t mind the idea so much now. He realised… he wasn’t scared anymore.

Vox turned to Alastor again, prepared to speak, when all of a sudden they were almost knocked into each other by forces crashing into their legs. Vox’s knees were nearly buckled by the sudden weight of Vark, who had grown significantly since their move to the hotel. Vark began pawing insistently at Vox’s leg, and his heart sank. That meant an episode was incoming. However, his attention was quickly turned to the cause of Alastor’s stumble, in the form of Niffty grabbing him tightly and burying her face into his pant leg, which was doing nothing to muffle her very loud crying. It wasn’t long before Alastor’s trousers were sporting a wet patch on the side from the sheer volume of Niffty’s tears. Alastor’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Niffty my dear, whatever is the matter?” He asked, and Vox picked up on the hint of amusement in his tone, slipped in under the clear concern. Niffty only cried harder, then managed to choke out somewhat coherent words between sobs.

“Don’t burn my contract! I don’t want to be free!” She bawled, grabbing fistfuls of Alastor’s trousers in her tiny hands. Vox stifled a laugh, and Alastor smiled fondly, giving Niffty a gently pat on the head.

“No need to worry, my dear, this was most certainly a one-off. I will not be letting you go any time soon.” He said, and Niffty’s mood changed almost instantly. The tears ceased and she bounced excitedly.

“Oh thank you Alastor! I really like it here with you!” She squealed, before scuttling away, giggling as she went. Alastor rolled his eyes, but the look on his face was still fond. Vox smirked at him, ready to tease before being reminded of his own current situation by Vark biting the sleeve of his sweater gently, tugging it to get his attention.

“Alright Vark, I know.” He said quietly, attempting to placate Vark with a pat on the nose. The shark refused to be dissuaded, and pushed his broad head into Vox’s stomach, shoving him less than gently to the ground. Vox sputtered, and Alastor turned, expression somewhat alarmed. His shadow also made an appearance, and Vox noted its expression was also concerned.

“Vox, have you lost control of your pet?” Alastor said, amusement attempting to mask the worry. Vox shook his head shooting Vark a reproachful look.

“No, he trained himself, he knows when I’m gonna seize, usually before I do.”

Any amusement vanished from Alastor’s face, his shadow creeping closer. Their exchange had drawn the attention of the other hotel residents as well, and Charlie was quick to step forward.

“Vox? Are you alright?”

“Fine, fine.” He waved her away. He could feel the buzzing electricity building now, and his vision was beginning to blur with static. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it but it had no effect. Alastor crouched down next to him, legs folded neatly under him, and placed a hand on Vox’s shoulder.

“You should lay down before it begins.” He said gently.

“Yeah, sure, I will.” Vox muttered.

The usual alarms were sounding in his head, telling of systems freaking out, vents opening and closing frantically to try and cool down his rapidly overheating core. However, there was one alert that was out of the ordinary, and with his fading consciousness he zeroed in on it. It wasn’t an internal alert like the others, it was external, a warning from one of his security systems. One of the hotel security systems. He opened the alert and a bolt of fear ran through him. Vox tensed, grabbing desperately at the lapels of Alastor’s coat, suddenly frantic.

“Alastor, they’re coming. The hotel is in danger.” He gasped, fighting the sparks that were beginning to jump over his skin. Alastor’s eyes widened, ears pinned back in alarm.

“What do you mean danger? Who is coming?” He clasped his own hands over Vox’s, then snapped his head around at the sound of Charlie’s gasp.

“Oh! It’s Valentino and Velvette isn’t it? They’re coming now?” She wrung her hands together. Vox nodded shakily.

“Them and half an army. A hundred and fifty, maybe more. Alastor, help me stand.” He began trying to pull himself up using Alastor as a support, fighting desperately against the now blaring alarms screaming in his head and the tremors and darkening vision that were only worsening. What he could still see of Alastor’s face looked appalled at the idea.

“What- Vox you know you can’t fight like this! Picture box please, be reasonable. If they’ve only just tripped your alarm then I’m sure they won’t be here for another hour at least.” He said matter of factly, carefully removing Vox’s hands from his coat and guiding him down to the floor. Charlie knelt down on his other side but was mindful not to touch him.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you, but we’ve been preparing. The hotel is fortified and we have a stock of weapons. You saw them coming.” She beamed. “We have plenty of time to prepare. They won’t know what hit them.” She said firmly, and the others nodded behind her. Vox was prepared to protest further but found he couldn’t fight the growing static, and made sure he let go of Alastor before the seizure overtook him.

As Vox started seizing, Charlie realised Alastor had no intention of leaving his side, so it would be up to her to coordinate their defences. She stood and took a deep breath, trying to push down the memories of the last time they’d had to fight to defend the hotel. She tried not to think about Sir Pentious.

“Husk, Angel, gather the weapons. Niffty, go up to the balcony, you’re on lookout duty. If they get within shooting distance come back in and let us know. Vaggie, you’re with me. Alright everyone, you know what to do.” She clapped her hands and the assembled group split off to perform their assigned tasks. Charlie glowed with pride. Pride towards her ragtag family who were rallying to protect one who had become one of their own.

As Vaggie joined her in watching Vox and Alastor on the floor, Charlie found herself hoping, almost praying for Vox’s episode to pass quickly. They seemed to range from two minutes to almost fifteen, and the longer it lasted the longer it took for Vox to recover afterwards. Vark circled them as they watched, slow and careful the way earth sharks circled prey, but with clear protective intentions, making sure no further harm came to Vox. Charlie found herself wondering how much damage Vark could actually do, if he wanted to. He was generally very gentle and friendly, but he was still a large animal with very sharp teeth, and strong protective instincts, especially concerning Vox.

Husk and Angel came in and out of the room, carrying weapons out from the storage room they’d been stashed in. After a while Vaggie whispered that she was going to help, and Charlie nodded silently, moving to sit next to Alastor as they watched over Vox, who was still shuddering violently. She hated that they couldn’t touch him, couldn’t protect his head from hitting the floor, couldn’t hold his hand. She was sure Alastor hated it even more.

“Have you told him yet? That you love him?” She asked quietly, and she felt Alastor stiffen beside her.

“Yes.”

“What did he say?” She glanced sideways at him, but his gaze was fixed on Vox. So close yet so far away.

“He didn’t really say anything.”

“You kinda deserve that.”

The words left her before she had the chance to process them. Is that what she really thought? It must be. Alastor had hurt Vox really badly that night seven years ago, she’d seen that from the first day Vox spent at the hotel. So maybe he did deserve to feel the same way, just for a short while, because Charlie was certain Vox still loved him back, even if he hadn’t said so.

Alastor hummed softly. “I suppose I do. I never wanted to hurt him. I thought he’d move on. How was I to know he wouldn’t?”

Charlie shrugged. “Love is unpredictable. But that’s not a bad thing. It just means you have to adapt.”

Alastor hummed again, more curtly this time, but then he sighed.

“Not one of my strengths, I’ll admit.” He said softly, looking at Vox with an expression Charlie could only interpret as yearning. “Though, for him, I will try.”

She smiled softly. “That’s all we can do.”

Vox stilled in front of them, body relaxing but screen still dark, and they both straightened up. The sparks stopped, and in an instant Alastor was at Vox’s side, one hand on the side of his head and the other clutching at Vox’s hand. There was a loud beeping sound and flashes of text across Vox’s screen, and Charlie leaned forward.

“Is that meant to happen?”

“Yes. He’s waking up. How long do we have before trouble reaches us?” He said bluntly, most of his attention clearly dedicated to Vox. Charlie opened her mouth to reply, only to close it again when she heard footsteps above them. Too fast to belong to Angel’s long strides and much too light to be Husk’s dragging gait. Niffty. Moments later the small sinner practically tumbled down the stairs into the lobby, out of breath but clearly proud of herself.

“The enemies are within range Charlie! They’ll be here soon.” She said far too happily, and Charlie glanced frantically between her and Alastor, still bent over Vox, whose face had only just returned and was still unconscious.

“Thank you Niffty, you did a great job.” She said, trying to hide her panic. Thankfully Niffty didn’t seem to notice and ran away giggling, unsheathing her large needle as she went. Charlie immediately whipped back around to Vox and Alastor. Vox was coming to, eyes fluttering and brain slowly waking up. Alastor was speaking softly to him, something Charlie couldn’t quite make out, but then a spark jumped between Vox’s antennae and he seemed to come back to himself a little quicker.

When Vox began trying to stand, against Alastor’s audible warnings, Charlie decided it was time for her to help. She scooted over to Vox’s side opposite Alastor and put an arm around him, mirroring Alastor’s actions on his other side, only without the careful hand on the back of Vox’s head. She’d always been too nervous to touch his head, after seeing it torn in half and then removed from his body and replaced, it seemed wrong to make direct contact with it. It seemed far too intimate a touch.

Vox swayed slightly as they stood but soon righted himself, leaning heavily on Alastor. Once he was standing somewhat steadily, Charlie extracted herself and ran to the front windows, peering through the boards to try and glimpse their approaching attackers. They were still slightly too far away to make out many details, but the silhouette of Valentino’s large wings was unmistakeable. Next to him she could see the smaller shape of Velvette, sporting long braids that she was tossing dramatically with one hand while holding a phone up with the other.

Charlie jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, and whipped around to see Vaggie standing there, spear drawn and hair pulled back. Strapped to her back was Charlie’s shield, and behind her stood Husk, Angel, and Niffty, all holding weapons of various sizes, from machine guns to small knives. Charlie felt her eyes tear up at the sight. They were all prepared to fight to protect Vox, at no personal gain. Her heart swelled with pride.

“We’re ready hon,” Vaggie handed Charlie her shield with a small smile. “We’ll show them what happens when you mess with the Hazbin Hotel family.”

Charlie blinked back her tears and smiled back.

“Fuck yeah we will.”

Vox was still trying to get all his systems up and running when the loudspeaker crackle sounded from outside the hotel.

“Alright listen up bitches!” Velvette’s voice came echoing in. “We only wanna kill the flat-faced traitor, so if you send ‘im out in the next two minutes we’ll leave ya be!” She shouted, and then there was the sound of a scuffle and Velvette’s voice was replaced by Valentino’s.

“Or you can stay in there and we get to kill you all. I personally don’t mind either way.” He drawled, and there was the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked. Vox tensed, even through the post-seizure haze that sound was clear as day. Charlie almost went storming outside, but Vaggie stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Vox looked around at each person in the room, who were all ready to fight to protect him, and felt his throat close up with sudden emotion.

Vark growled from beside him, and he put a hand out to calm his pet. He felt Vark lick his fingers gently and sighed.

“I can’t let you get hurt. Go to your tank Vark.” He said softly, and Vark whined. Vox shook his head. “Go, now Vark.”

Vark sat down, pressing his head more firmly into Vox’s hand. The message was clear. Vox’s breath hitched.

“Vark, I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” Alastor’s voice was quiet, but steady, certain. “I’ll make sure of that.” Vox stared at him in disbelief.

“I thought you didn’t even like him.”

Alastor shrugged, one arm still wrapped around Vox’s shoulders. “I admit he’s grown on me. He’s not so bad as far as animals go, and he means a lot to you, and you mean a lot to me.”

Vox stood up straighter and slowly wrapped both his arms around Alastor, burying his screen into the other demons shoulder, uncaring of everyone watching. Alastor stiffened at first, but soon relaxed into the embrace.

“Thank you.” Vox whispered. “Thank you all.” He said louder, releasing Alastor and turning to face the rest of the group.

“Thank you all, for making my afterlife anything but lonely.” He smiled softly, the expression slowly morphing into a sharp grin. A shark’s grin. “They want a fight? Let’s give them what they want.”

Vox stepped away from Alastor and didn’t falter, striding forward with Vark at his heels, past Angel and Husk, then past Charlie and Vaggie, until he was standing right at the doors.

“Weapons ready.” He said quietly, then raised his voice at a nod from Charlie.

“Alright, I’m coming out.” He called, voice projected far louder than normal. He slowly opened the doors and stepped out, hands raised, leaving the doors open behind him. He quickly assessed the crowd standing in front of the hotel, led by Valentino and Velvette, who were both armed with their preferred weapons. The shine of angelic steel was obvious to Vox even at a distance, the power it gave off was unmistakable. Behind them was a collection of sinners that couldn’t possible look more out of place. Models and porn actors and other random employees that Valentino or Velvette had drugged or otherwise forced into joining them. A far cry from a trained army, but a group of armed sinners nonetheless. Vox walked towards this strange assembly with his hands raised in mock surrender, but the look on his face was anything but compliant. 

“Unfortunately,” Vox said, shrugging nonchalantly. “You will not be killing me today.”

For a single moment there was silence while they processed his words, then chaos broke out. Valentino screamed, spreading his wings and raising his guns. Vox dodged the first shot and the second glanced harmlessly off Charlie’s shield as she ran past him, shooting him a grin as she went. A moment later Vaggie dove into the mass of sinners, splitting their ranks and leaving a trail of blood in her wake. She fought with her spear as usual, but only dealt non-fatal blows, instead slicing off limbs and chopping off hair, things that wouldn’t regrow even if the sinner died and regenerated.

Husk and Angel fought back to back, cards and bullets flying faster than the normal eye could see. The resulting explosions, however, were definitely visible, and so was the direction. Angel was not-so-subtly pointing his attacks in Valentino’s direction, but the moth was always covered, protected by his devoted followers, so Angel’s bullets fell on the rest of the attacking crowd. Niffty scuttled through the fray, slicing at ankles and pulling any loose hair she could get her hands on. A surprising amount of sinners had dropped their weapons completely after having their hair violently ripped out, rendering them half bald and unarmed.

Even more surprising was the fact that they kept fighting. These sinners may not have been very formidable, but they were desperate, and Vox didn’t have to try very hard to imagine what threats they’d been faced with in order to join the attack. If they lost their weapon they simply resorted to throwing punches and kicks, and some began using their teeth. It was an all out brawl, but the Hazbin crew were cutting down their numbers, and it was quickly becoming apparent who the victorious party would be.

Alastor had swiftly joined Vox at the doors of the hotel, and Charlie was not far in front of them. Her shield was coming in handy against Velvette’s throwing knives, and several of the angelic blades had already embedded themselves in the golden surface. Her horns were out and at some point her hair had fallen loose from its ponytail and was swinging wildly around her as she lunged at Velvette, slashing the sharp edges of her shield at her. One of the wings sliced through one of Velvette’s braids and it fell to the ground.

“How dare you!” Velvette screamed, clutching at her half-a-braid. “You’ll pay for that!” She ran at Charlie, knives drawn, and Charlie stood tall, her trident materialising to meet the blades. With a twist she wrenched the knives from Velvette’s hands, then brought her shield down to force Velvette to retreat or lose her hand.

“That’s what you get for trying to kill my friend! Leave now and we won’t follow.” She said sternly, trident levelled in front of her.

“Never!” Velvette screeched, laughing haughtily. “That box-headed fucker will die for what he did to us! He left us in the dust!” She threw another knife, which Charlie blocked, then ran forward again, ducking the swinging trident and grabbing one of Charlie’s horns. Charlie yelped in surprise, and Velvette grinned, only to scream when a cable wrapped around her ankle like a snake and pulled her off her feet, dragging her along the ground before picking her up so she hung upside down.

Vox grinned from where he stood at the front of the hotel, Alastor by his side, cables extending from his back like tentacles, each one extended in a different direction. Three were currently tangled around Valentino, preventing him from moving. He was swearing loudly.

“Oh Velvette, you naive you were.” Vox said condescendingly, voice crackling with static. “To think I wouldn’t see you coming. You forget, doll, that I see everything .”

Electricity ran down the cable holding Velvette, and she screamed as it passed through her, her doll joints twisting and her hair coming loose from its braids, one side hanging much lower than the other. After a moment the electricity ceased and the cable loosened, dropping her unceremoniously to the ground.

“I warned you.” Vox grinned, voice low but still easily audible, even at a distance. “I said I’d fry that sad excuse for a wig.”

“Fuck… you, Vox.” She gasped. “You’ll… pay… for this.” She gritted her teeth, and ripped her unsalvageable wig off her head. She threw it on the ground in front of her before drawing more knives. Shaking the last of the electricity from her limbs, she lunged at Vox, bald and screaming like a feral animal. He jumped backwards, eyes widening, but it wasn’t far enough. She was about to sink a dagger into his chest, tear through the precious stitches that held him together, when her attack was blocked by a thin black and silver staff. Alastor.

His smile was knife-sharp as he stood between Velvette and Vox, his microphone easily stopping her blade. It was reinforced with angelic steel after all. He batted her away and tutted disapprovingly.

“You know, it’s really quite undignified to scream in such a way. Where’s the showmanship?” He taunted, leaning casually on his microphone. Velvette seemed to finally realise she’d been outclassed and scowled, scrambling backwards. Alastor turned back towards Vox, who was holding back laughter while his cables writhed around him, ensnaring sinners and throwing them away from the hotel. Vox flashed him a grin before glancing around, wanting to confirm that Charlie was alright. He did have cameras set up outside the hotel, but he hadn’t had the chance to look through them since the fight began. It required a lot of concentration to use his cables, an ability he’d only recently regained with his return to soul ownership. Balancing that in addition to monitoring the fight through his cameras was proving challenging, so he was limited to using only his physical eyes.

After Charlie threw him a thumbs up in the middle of bashing a model in the face with her shield, Vox decided she was doing just fine on her own. Despite her limited fight experience she was managing pretty well, and had proven to be a capable fighter when she had the motivation. Vox was more than a little touched that her motivation in this fight was him.

He felt the tugging at his back intensify as Valentino continued to struggle against his cables, incensed at the sight of Velvette’s humiliation. He turned away from Charlie at the same time that Alastor’s antlers began growing in response to Valentino’s fury. He’d been using his shadows to remove sinners from the battlefield, simply opening portals under their feet and dropping them from the sky over the city, ensuring they hit the ground hard enough not to come back any time soon. Alastor had also been creating small puppets to aid Niffty in causing chaos, stealing weapons and tripping anyone wearing even slightly impractical shoes.

His focus had been spread thin, but Vox knew Alastor was still using a great deal of that focus on him, and he hadn’t strayed far since the fight began. After he’d finished emotionally destroying Velvette he’d fallen back to watch Valentino, grinning at him unrelentingly.

“Vete a la mierda, maldito cabrón con cabeza de caja! Te mataré y usaré tu cabeza como juguete sexual!” Valentino screamed, and Vox didn’t need a translator to know that whatever he said wasn’t a compliment. He could feel Val trying to slip free, and tightened his hold, ready to turn and face the main threat head on.

Pain. Sudden, tearing pain. Glancing down in panic he glimpsed something that made his heart stutter so badly his body ran an automatic checkup.

Blood. The unmistakeable, slowly spreading dark patch that was turning his dark blue shirt even darker. When he put a frantic hand to his chest his fears were confirmed. The contrasting temperatures of blood and coolant were both present, but thankfully there was no telltale slippery feeling of mercury. He was alright for now, but his thoughts were racing. How had that happened? The wound hadn’t healed but the stitches had always seemed solid. Why had they seemingly given up now? Had he pushed himself too far? All questions he would find no answers for in the middle of a fight. Vox pulled his jacket closed and thanked his lucky stars he wasn’t wearing a white shirt. Turning towards Valentino and ignoring Alastor’s brief look of concern, he squared his shoulders. He was on a time crunch now, and it was time to end this petty conflict.

“Look around Val!” Vox spread his arms wide, ignoring how it pulled at the now reopened wound on his chest. “You’ve lost! Your staff are being torn apart, your partner had abandoned you, and I am no closer to dead than I was this morning. Go home!” He shouted, but Valentino only screamed.

“Fuck you Vox! You took everything from me!” He writhed harder, and Vox found he couldn’t tighten his hold any further, with each movement of his cables sending ripples of pain through his torso. He decided to switch tactics. That was his strength after all, his ability to outsmart an opponent, talk his way out of trouble and avoid a head on collision. Dance his way around conflict where Alastor charged straight through. That’s what he had to do.

“Oh yeah? The way I see it, you lost everything all on your own! You’re the one who offered Angel Dust to me, you’re the one who destroyed our business partnership, and you’re the one who made an enemy of me by threatening the princess of Hell, who I was already associated with.” He grinned wide, baring more teeth than it seemed like he should have. “There’s no one to blame for your failures but yourself.”

Alastor shot him a look, one that clearly said ‘ what are you doing? you’re only making him angry ’ and he replied with a slight nod. Vox knew what he was doing. Valentino was easy to goad, easy to rile up, and easy to trick. Making him angry meant he wouldn’t be thinking, and that meant he was more likely to do something stupid. That was exactly what Vox wanted. He began loosening his cables, slowly releasing Valentino from his hold, but subtly enough that Val would think he did it himself. As he did so, Vox began repositioning himself so his back was to the hotel, and the doors were directly behind him. While Valentino was slowly realising he could move more than he could a few minutes ago, Vox slowly wrapped a cable around the barrel of each of Val’s guns, before suddenly wrenching them from the moth’s hands. The sharp movement made him gasp, but it went unheard through the storm of Valentino’s spanish curses.

Considering the size of the wet patch on the front of his shirt and the growing pain in his torso, it wasn’t hard for Vox to put on a show of Val ‘escaping’ from his grip, as the moth tore his way out of the cables, drawing a long angelic steel dagger, the backup weapon Vox had been certain he had. As Val advanced on him, Vox didn’t falter, drawing his cables in and walking calmly backwards into the hotel, allowing Val to follow him, the moth casting a long shadow over him, his screen the only light.

“You know Val, this newfound obsession with killing me isn’t a good look for you.” He tilted his head in mock concern, the grin on his face sharp and taunting. “Makes you look like a jealous ex or a desperate whore.”

“Shut up! You never did know when to stop talking, you little bitch. I don’t give a fuck what you say, I’m not leaving until your blood is on my knife.” Valentino licked his lips, long tongue dripping saliva. Vox suppressed a gag, keeping his shark’s grin firmly in place.

“The funny thing is that you think killing me will do anything. It won’t make you more successful, or more famous. It won’t bring Angel Dust back to you. It won’t get you anything.” His back hit the back wall of the lobby and he took a small step forward. He didn’t take his eyes off of Val, but he allowed his consciousness to glance through a camera, just for a moment, and his grin widened. Val didn’t seem to catch on, and his own grin widened sadistically, wings spread in early victory.

“That’s where you’re wrong, puta. Killing you… will bring me pleasure .”

He lunged forward at Vox, dagger raised to strike, but right before he made contact he lurched backwards, stopped short by a sharp tug. Then there was a terrible ripping sound, like a sleeve being torn from a shirt, only with an arm still inside. Valentino screeched, an awful inhuman sound, and even Vox winced at the pain in the sound, ignoring how his own breathing was becoming laboured. Valentino’s dagger clattered to the ground as he dropped to his knees, revealing two massive bleeding wounds on his back. Where his wings used to be.

When Vox tore his eyes away from Val’s back, he couldn’t help but smile. Vark stood proudly behind Valentino, growling angrily around the fluffy wings still crushed between his teeth. His usual gentle demeanour was gone, replaced by a large predator that was fiercely protective of those considered family. Slowly, the way a shark circles its prey, Vark prowled around Valentino to stand in front of Vox, planting himself firmly between his person and the threat, wide head lowered and teeth bared. Vox placed a hand on his pet’s back, half out of gratitude and half for support, as the effects of the blood loss were beginning to make themselves known. Valentino shifted and Vark growled louder. Vox stilled. Something was wrong. Val was supposed to leave, run away, not reach for his dagger. He realised what was happening as it happened, and it was as if the movements occurred in slow motion. Valentino grabbed the dagger and swung at Vark, Vox frantically tried to get between them, and a silhouette appeared in the doors of the hotel. Then the lights went out and the whole room was plunged into darkness, a darkness not even Vox’s bright screen could penetrate.

Alastor.

When the lights flickered back to life and he frantically looked around, Vox almost didn’t believe what he saw. Alastor was gently stroking Vark, smiling calmly, and Vark was unharmed, tongue lolling happily as Alastor’s claws gently scratched at his favourite spot. He stared in disbelief for a moment, then looked back to the other shocking image laid out in front of him.

Valentino’s lifeless body splayed out on the hotel floor, his own angelic dagger plunged through the middle of his back.

Vox felt sick looking at it, and slowly sank to his knees. Actually, on second thought, the sick feeling may have been because of the amount of blood he’d lost, considering his whole front was soaked in a swirling mix of blood and coolant. It was then that Alastor seemed to realise something was wrong, because all of a sudden he couldn’t see Valentino’s corpse anymore, only Alastor’s worried face, eyes wide and smile almost nonexistent. Vox felt something nudge his hand, and turned his head to see Vark gently licking his fingers, head brushing against his palm. Then there were hands on his shoulders, and Alastor was saying something, maybe even shouting, but Vox felt as though he was underwater, and all sounds were muted and dull. There were black spots in his vision, slowly taking over, and he could no longer feel a connection to any of his cameras, couldn’t summon his cables, or even feel his legs.

The last thing Vox saw before he lost consciousness was Alastor’s terrified expression, backlit by a blinding white light from outside the open hotel doors.

Chapter Text

Vox blinked blearily, his vision returning in flashes, blurry around the edges and confusing as all hell. He couldn’t hear, his audio sensors having being deemed non-vital in an emergency, with his survival system frantically trying to salvage the mess that his body currently was. He saw Alastor leaning over him, hands on his chest to keep the wound closed, saying something Vox couldn’t understand. He looked panicked, almost afraid, and it took Vox all too long to process that Alastor was afraid for him.

He saw Vark pacing around him, wanting contact but knowing not to come too close, not to get in the way. Teeth were good for a lot of things, but healing wasn’t one of them. He reached out a weak hand and Vark was under it in an instant, pressing his nose upwards into Vox’s trembling fingers. His other hand was laid on top of Alastor’s, and he could feel his own blood on his fingers, a sensation that didn’t help the dizziness he felt.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t in much pain anymore. He suspected his body had shut down his pain receptors once the immediate danger had passed, since the amount of warmth he could feel on his fingers combined with Alastor’s expression were telling him he should have been in a lot more pain than he was. Sometimes Vox hated the extent to which his body functioned automatically, more so than the normal sinner, making decisions without his input, but sometimes he had to admit it was useful. No pain was nice. No hearing, on the other hand, was fucking awful.

He kept seeing flashes of bright light behind Alastor. The first few times he’d thought it was a hallucination, a glitch in his visual inputs that was messing with the light. But it was too consistent, too bright, and not accompanied by any alerts about visual issues. His body was reliable in that sense, whenever there was a problem, it was flashed in front of his face so he couldn’t ignore it.

Like he was currently doing. He was well aware of the large hole in his chest and the fucking river of blood spilling out of it, he didn’t need a little pop-up to tell him about it. But it was there nonetheless, flashing irritatingly in the corner of his view no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. Manual overrides were tricky when his body was really set on survival and didn’t care about his opinions, and the blood loss was messing with his concentration. His main focus was reactivating his hearing, because it would be nice to know what the fuck was going on.

Vox eventually found the switch, and after dismissing the many confirmations that insisted on asking ‘are you sure?’, he managed to get his hearing back, only to wish he could turn it off again when he was rewarded with the sound of screaming. Panicked, frantic, downright feral screams coming from outside the hotel, the screams of people in terror, people facing their worst fears.

He chose to focus on Alastor instead. Alastor, who seemed to realise Vox was more aware than before and redoubled his efforts to spark a response.

“Vox? Can you hear me, are you with me?” His eyes jumped between Vox’s face and chest, trying to monitor his injury and his awareness at the same time. Vox tried to squeeze Alastor’s hand but wasn’t sure if he succeeded, the injury must have worsened because his body had gone past pain and straight up disabled all sensation below his neck. It was very disconcerting to be able to see yourself moving, bleeding, but feel none of it, as if he was looking at someone else. Alastor glanced down though, so he must have done something.

“Picture box?” Alastor’s voice broke, and Vox smiled slightly.

“I’m with you. I’m not… going anywhere.” He said slowly, brain still muddled and thoughts not moving as linearly as he would have liked. He still wasn’t certain what was happening, but Alastor’s smile became more genuine when he spoke, so he must have done something right. Alastor pressed harder on his chest, and he felt a ghost of the pressure but no real feeling, which was weird, but it was better than pain. The numbness allowed him to focus a little better if he just ignored his body, and he managed to gather his thoughts into something mostly coherent.

“You killed Valentino.” He said bluntly, and Alastor grinned wryly.

“I did.” He said. “I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to Vark.”

“Since when… do you believe in keeping promises?” Vox questioned, and Alastor shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on Vox’s chest, avoiding his eyes.

“Since morals matter to someone I care about.” He muttered, and Vox blinked. Was Alastor talking about him? He must be, no one else in Hell gave a shit about keeping their word. He felt like he was missing something, his messed up brain misplacing important information at the most inconvenient of times. He knew Alastor cared about him, they were friends. They’d been friends for a long time, even taking into account Alastor’s seven year absence. He cared about Alastor too. He had for a long time, almost the entire time he’d known him.

It wasn’t until Alastor had vanished that he’d realised just how much he cared about him. How much he loved him.

Fuck, that was it, wasn’t it? Alastor loved him. The memory rushed back to him all at once, their argument, Alastor’s unintentional confession, because Vox was certain Alastor had not meant to voice his feelings, but then he’d followed it by freeing Husk at Vox’s request, all because he wanted to heal him, because he loved him. Alastor loved him.

Vox loved Alastor back. Of course he did, he pretty much always had. That was his one constant, throughout all the crazy shit Hell through at him, and no matter what happened, he loved Alastor. It was as natural as breathing, more natural even, considering he could go without breath for several minutes. Vox couldn’t go without loving Alastor for a second. It was more than love -he needed him. Vox needed Alastor like he needed air, or the mercury that protected his foolish heart, or the electricity that powered his sentimental brain.

Alastor was the main reason he considered his afterlife more enjoyable than his actual life, because Alastor had personified his primary comfort and somehow made Hell itself worth living in.

The bright white light flashed outside the doors again, and several things occurred to Vox at once. The light was like nothing else in Hell, because it wasn’t from Hell. It was Heavenly power, and once he realised that the sensation of it seemed to hit him fully, the same buzzing power that radiated from angelic weapons, from Lucifer, but somehow even stronger, purer, and getting closer with every flash. That triggered the next realisation. That he might not have done enough to cement his position as irredeemable. If Vox died now, he might end up in Heaven, separated from Alastor, Vark, and everything else he knew, for the rest of eternity. He couldn’t let that happen.

He had always been stubborn, it was time to put that to the test. He wasn’t dying now.

He also decided that no matter what happened, he was going to try again at the whole confession thing. They were in the Hazbin Hotel after all, the perfect place for second chances.

When Charlie had glimpsed Vox backing slowly into the hotel, followed by Valentino, she’d paused long enough that a scantily clad model had almost grabbed her, only to be stopped when Vaggie threw her spear with such force that it sliced clean through their arm. They shrieked and Charlie’s focus snapped back to the task at hand, quickly tossing Vaggie her spear back and raising her trident. Velvette had also vanished, after being thoroughly beaten by Vox and Alastor, leaving only her torn and dirty wig abandoned on the dusty ground.

The rest of the sinners were no match for the Hotel crew, but Charlie couldn’t ignore the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Her thoughts kept replaying the brief glimpse she had of Valentino prowling into the hotel after Vox, and while Vox hadn’t looked scared, it still worried her. Less than half an hour ago he’d been convulsing on the floor, and he was still injured from the last time the hotel had come under attack.

But Vark was inside the hotel . She thought as she swept the legs out from under a very overdressed model. She hoped Vark’s teeth weren’t just for show, that he would be able to protect Vox if it came down to it. Then there was Alastor. Charlie was certain Alastor wouldn’t let anything happen to Vox this time, their conversation replaying in her head. Alastor loved Vox enough to give Husk his soul back and pledge to try and adapt to something new. And Alastor hated new. Charlie was confident Alastor would do anything to protect Vox.

The hotel lights flickered, then went dark. It was Angel’s shout that alerted Charlie to the disturbance, and she whipped around to see what he was pointing at, only to see the hotel lights flicker back to life, followed by a screech, an inhuman scream that sounded like haunting cry of a deer mixed with the squeal of radio feedback. Alastor.

Something was wrong. Charlie began trying to get to the hotel, trying to fight her way through the remaining crowd, but there seemed all of a sudden to be too many of them, preventing her from reaching the hotel no matter how hard she fought. The sinners they were fighting may not have been much of a threat individually, but there were a lot of them, and it meant Charlie had to be on her guard, as attacks could come from any angle. She had cover, with Vaggie watching her closely and Husk and Angel both using ranged attacks, but she was becoming desperate, unable to get to Alastor and Vox.

Then the sky exploded with light. Blinding white light that made Charlie’s heart skip a beat. She knew that light all too well, as it was the light that preceded the slaughter of her people every year, the light that killed Sir Pentious, the light that almost cut Vox in half, and the light that had welcomed her before tearing her dreams apart. Heaven’s light.

Blinking through the residual colours that stained her vision, she looked to the sky, summoning her trident in anticipation of further attack. Could Heaven be taking the opportunity to strike them now, when they were already occupied? Charlie straightened, noting that much of the battlefield had stilled at the interruption, and prepared to meet the new threat head on. What she didn’t expect was for a voice to call out.

“Stop!”

Charlie knew that voice. The last time she heard that voice it was a pledge of support, a promise of help. Charlie’s vision finally cleared and she beamed.

“Emily!” She cried happily, waving to the descending angel. Many of the attacking sinners had begun to run at Emily’s shout, years of hiding from exterminations meant angels were generally seen as signalling death, and not even the promise of sex with Valentino would make them face that. Not that sex was possible if you were dead.

Charlie lowered her trident, accidentally tripping a screaming model as she ran past, and only felt guilty for a moment. She didn’t even apologise, instead running to embrace Emily, who laughed sweetly.

“It’s so good to see you!” Charlie said, pulling back. “You arrived at the perfect time!

Vaggie ran up to them, spear bloody but smile wide. She not-so-subtly wrapped an arm around Charlie’s waist before greeting Emily.

“Gotta say, Emily, I wasn’t expecting to see you down here. What’s going on?” Vaggie said, still smiling as she looked Emily up and down, constantly analysing. Emily, however, didn’t take any notice, bouncing excitedly and flapping her hands.

“Because I’ve brought you a visitor!” She squealed, and as she spoke there was another blinding flash from the sky, then several in flashes one after another, causing panicked screaming from the group of sinners that remained, no doubt thinking more angels were coming.

“Ah, he’s still getting used to flying.” Emily laughed. Angel, Husk, and Niffty had joined them, the spider putting a hand over his eyes to try and make out the approaching figure. “Is that-?”

As the last of the sinners fled, another figure appeared in the sky, a much more awkward figure than Emily, flapping frantically as they veered all over the place before dropping to the ground unceremoniously. Charlie’s eyes widened.

“Sir Pentious!” She gasped, rushing forward to hug the serpent as he jumped up, standing to attention until she crashed into him. “I’m so happy to see you! I’m so glad you’re alive, and you’re redeemed!” She pulled back, eyes welling with tears. “We thought you’d died!” She sobbed, embracing him again. He awkwardly returned the gesture, but when she pulls away his eyes were also shining with unshed tears, and he was grinning widely.

“It’s ssso good to see you all again.” He said, accepting hugs from Vaggie and Niffty, pats on the back from Angel and a handshake from Husk. “Emily has been very kind to me, but you guysss are my family.” Sir Pentious glanced around at them all, then behind them, towards the hotel.

“I like the new hotel, very fancy.” He commented, and Charlie felt her blood run cold. The hotel. Vox and Alastor were still in the hotel. Her expression must have shown her thoughts, because suddenly Vaggie sounded concerned.

“Babe? Is something wrong?” She said softly, but Charlie didn’t take the time to respond, turning on her heel and breaking into a run towards the hotel, ignoring the questions called after her. Pushing through the half open door of the hotel, she faltered at the sight that met her in the lobby. Valentino was dead on the floor, a knife hilt sticking out of his back and his wings lying discarded on the other side of the room. Vark was pacing back and forth behind Valentino’s body, head facing the back wall of the lobby, where two figures were crouched. Well, one was more like slumped.

Vox. That was Vox slumped against the wall. Alastor was kneeling in front of him, curled around him in a way that was distinctly protective. There was blood on the floor, and Charlie wasn’t sure whose it was. She took a hesitant step forward, skirting carefully around Valentino, careful not to touch his body -she refused to think of it as his corpse- until she was close enough that Vox noticed her. One red and blue eye locked onto her, and she realised just how large Vox’s eyes could be. Large and expressive and currently filled with uncertainty. Then his gaze shifted behind her and his eye widened further, expression shifting to what she could only describe as terror. He said something, too quiet for her to hear, but Alastor did.

Alastor whipped around, eyes black and antlers growing. Charlie looked around, and she quickly found what they were looking at. Emily. Charlie put her hands up placatingly,

“No, it’s okay! She’s not here to hurt anyone! Emily believes in redemption, she brought Sir Pentious down to visit us!” She said, and Emily nodded, smiling. However, her words did not have the desired effect. Vark had planted himself in between Vox and Emily, and Alastor growled, teeth bared but not in his usual smile. This was a threat. When he spoke his voice crackled, radio static buzzing and squealing in the air.

“ Don’t come any closer .”

Emily looked at Charlie, confused, but Charlie had no explanation, as she herself was confused. Alastor continued his display, hand reaching for his microphone, revealing fingers coated in a gruesomely familiar combination of blood and coolant. Charlie inhaled sharply. Vox was hurt.

Emily gasped softly at the sight, and Charlie wondered briefly if this was her first time ever seeing blood. Then Emily stepped forward. Charlie gestured frantic stop signals at the angel, but Emily ignored her, too focused on Vox.

“Oh, he’s hurt! Do you need help? I’m an angel, I can help you.” She said kindly, her worry clear both on her face and in her tone. Vark started growling. Alastor’s ears pinned back, his antlers splintering into towering branches, the light draining from the room. Vox’s eyes shone in the darkness, but Charlie noticed they weren’t as bright as they usually were. Then she shook herself, that wasn’t the main concern right that second. Alastor looked ready to tear Emily in half.

“ You won’t lay one finger on him. I’ve never eaten a seraphim before, but I’ll try anything once. ” His limbs elongated as he spoke, hands and eyes beginning to glow green, and Emily shrank back, visibly horrified. Charlie was also horrified, shocked Alastor would threaten someone for offering help, and she was about to intervene when Alastor stopped, and shrank back slightly. Vox held the edge of his coat in a shaking grip, eyes still wide and fixed on Emily. Then he looked up at Alastor and almost imperceptibly shook his head.

Within the blink of an eye Alastor had returned to his regular form, curling around Vox before pulling them, along with Vark, into the shadows, all the while glaring daggers at Emily. The lobby grew bright and fell silent, and Charlie could only stare helplessly at the dark patch left on the wall and floor where Vox had been only moments prior. One small consolation was that she didn’t spot any silvery streams among the red and blue.

Emily let out a sob from behind her, and Charlie whipped around so fast her ponytail almost hit her in the face. The seraphim’s hands were held over her mouth, blue eyes wide and shining with tears.

“I am so sorry Emily,” Charlie rushed to explain, “You know he didn’t really mean it, about eating you, he wouldn’t actually do that, I promise, Alastor just gets a little-“

“He was afraid of me.” Emily breathed, cutting off Charlie’s apologetic rambling. “They both were. I’ve never… No one’s ever been afraid of me before.”

Charlie blinked. Emily wasn’t afraid, she was… upset?

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” Emily whispered, and Charlie softened.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. But people around here are used to angels being dangerous, so that might have been a factor. I don’t know if you saw what happened when Adam attacked us, but it was pretty bad. Vox, the one with the television head, he almost died.” Charlie took a deep breath, unused to saying it out loud. “Anyway, Alastor’s probably still a little on edge from that, so… yeah.” She finished lamely. Emily had stopped crying though, so her explanation seemed to have done its job. They stood in somewhat awkward silence for a few moments before Charlie broke it.

“Do you want to go back outside?”

“Yes please.”

They left the lobby, Valentino’s body still splayed on the floor, and as they rejoined the rest of the group outside, Charlie knelt down next to Niffty.

“Hey Nif, there’s a bit of a mess in the lobby if you feel like cleaning.” She said softly, trying not to think about what that mess was.

Niffty squealed excitedly and immediately scurried into the lobby, and Charlie heard what sounded like a quiet ‘yippee!’ from inside. One problem dealt with. Moving on. She didn’t know where Vox and Alastor had gone, she didn’t know why Emily and Sir Pentious had come, and she didn’t know what to do next. Calm down Charlie, one thing at a time.

“Emily, why did you come down here?”

Emily jumped, not expecting to be addressed, but then smiled brightly, her previous conflict seemingly forgotten.

“Oh! I have some very good news for you all! Redemption has been accepted by Heaven, and the Hotel will be henceforth placed under Heaven’s protection! No one can harm anyone staying here, because they have the potential to join us up there!” She said, eyes glowing with excitement and wings fluttering happily. Charlie stood stunned, and based on their expressions, the rest of the hotel residents felt much the same way.

“Wait.” Angel chimed in. “What does that mean, no more exterminations?”

Emily’s wings flared. “Of course not! There will be no more killing of human souls, ever! The hotel is also to be protected from the rest of Hell, so nothing harms the people trying to be better.”

“How will that be enforced?” Vaggie waved an arm around, pointing at their surroundings. “This isn’t exactly a place where people respect authority.” Charlie nodded in agreement. Most sinners didn’t even respect her as the princess, why would they care about a Heavenly order? But Emily only grinned wider, bouncing on her toes excitedly.

“Well, I present to you, your very own angelic liaison and guard!” She gestured dramatically at Sir Pentious, who waved awkwardly, not unlike when he first arrived at the hotel. Charlie gasped.

“Ohmygosh really?! He gets to stay?” She squealed, joining Emily’s excited bouncing. The angel nodded, and the rest of the group broke out in smiles, Angel mumbling something about having to call Cherri, and Sir Pentious grinned, taking Charlie’s hands.

“Thank you for believing in me. I’m better because of you.” He said, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. Charlie felt herself tear up again, and she pulled him into a hug.

“You did the hardest part. You proved redemption was possible. You opened the door. Thank you.” She whispered, feeling Sir Pentious return her embrace. By the time she pulled away there was a wet patch on her shoulder. Sir Pentious wiped his eyes and shifted to hug Vaggie, and Charlie smiled softly at the sight.

Then Emily tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned to see the angel looking slightly unsure.

“Actually Charlie, there’s one more thing I have to tell you about.”

When Alastor had heard someone enter the hotel he hadn’t been concerned, and if he shifted slightly so that he was covering more of Vox’s body then that was no one’s business but his own. But when he sensed a second presence and felt Vox tense beneath his hands, eyes widening and breath hitching, then he began to worry. However, it only took one whispered word from Vox to make his blood run cold.

“Angel.”

“What!?” He hissed, head snapping around, antlers growing. Charlie was there, and behind her stood a young looking girl with white hair and white wings. She radiated angelic power. Alastor growled, and Charlie put her hands up.

“No, it’s okay! She’s not here to hurt anyone! Emily believes in redemption, she brought Sir Pentious down to visit us!” She said, and as the angel smiled, Alastor felt Vox begin to tremble.

“Alastor,” He whispered, “Don’t let her take me. Please.”

Alastor growled louder.

“ Don’t come any closer. ” He said, teeth bared and radio static crackling. His grin -and it could barely be called that, as it was more of a snarl than anything else- widened when the angel looked slightly unsure, glancing at Charlie for help. He eased one hand off Vox’s chest, making sure the other hand was still holding the wound closed, and reached for his microphone. Both girls reacted, and then the angel stepped forward, hands outstretched.

“Oh, he’s hurt! Do you need help? I’m an angel, I can help you.” The angel said, as if that was a good thing, as if she wasn’t confirming all of their worst fears. Vox trembled, and Vark started growling. Not for the first time, Alastor felt a kind of camaraderie with the strange shark. Despite his occasional doglike behaviour, Vark had proven to be a loyal companion and a fierce protector, and he’d earned Alastor’s respect. Charlie, however, was quickly losing it as she did nothing to stop the angel coming closer. His ears pinned back and his antlers grew as he pulled the shadows from the corners, dousing the angel’s bright light in darkness.

“ You won’t lay one finger on him. I’ve never eaten a seraphim before, but I’ll try anything once. ” He sneered, letting his body contort and elongate, but always keeping one hand pressed to Vox’s chest. His anger was not so blind as to forsake what really mattered. He gathered his power to his hands and delighted in watching the angel step back fearfully. He grinned, a sharp sadistic grin, and began to advance, only to feel a weak tug at his coat. He whipped around to see Vox’s trembling hand gripping the tattered hem of his coat, even while still staring at the angel. Then Vox turned and fixed him with an almost pleading look, slowly shaking his head.

The message was clear. Alastor shrunk back, returning to his regular form.

“Alastor, get me out of here.” Vox whispered, and then Alastor was pulling at the shadows almost without thinking, including Vark without the slightest hesitation, ignoring the angel’s horrified expression as he glared at her, a warning not to follow them.

Alastor made sure to cradle Vox’s head as they landed in his room, the familiar sounds of the bayou doing little to calm his frayed nerves. Vox was pale, shaking, and cold, colder than usual, which meant he felt icy under Alastor’s warm hands. It made the contrast of the warm patch on his chest all the more obvious. It felt wrong. Vox had thick skin, and so any warmth from his blood was usually kept inside, localised to the organic parts of his body and kept away from the mechanical parts, which we constantly chilled by the bright blue coolant that flowed through vein-like tubes. In Alastor’s experience Vox was cool to the touch and expelled little to no body heat.

It was hot in Hell. As stereotypical as it was, the temperature ranged from warm in winter to stifling in summer, with very little variation in weather other than the occasional acid rain shower or flaming hailstorm. Like the one that was currently hammering on the roof of Alastor’s broadcast tower and sending sparks raining past the many windows.

He and Vox had been out for a walk when the storm had hit and when the first flaming hailstone had bounced off Vox’s head and left a small dent they’d decided it would be best to retreat inside. Alastor’s radio tower had been the closest safe shelter. And the most comfortable.

Alastor was settled in his broadcasting chair, microphone set carefully aside as he cheerfully updated Hell on the sudden change in weather. Then he put on ‘Singing in the Rain’ to raise the mood a little. He swung around in his chair and picked up his microphone, twirling it casually, eyes closed.

“Such wonderful weather we experience here, isn’t it?” He said sarcastically, but was met with silence. His eyes snapped open and his gaze immediately fell on Vox, lying curled up in the armchair in the corner, still and silent, screen dark.

“Vox? Sleeping through my broadcast, how careless of you.” Alastor drawled, but Vox made no movement. He stepped closer, nudging Vox first with his microphone and then, when that yielded no response, with his hand. Alastor’s eyes narrowed. Vox was cold .

“Vox?” He repeated, leaning closer. His skin was cold, television head feeling like empty casing. Alastor ran his hands over Vox’s head, discarding his microphone. His fingers quickly found the mark left behind by the hailstone, a small round dent in the casing near the back corner of his head. Had it damaged him that badly? Had that small stone killed him?

“Alastor? What are you doing?”

Alastor pulled his hands away so fast it made Vox’s antenna wave from the wind. “Nothing.” He said, picking up his microphone again and pretending to inspect it closely. “I was merely curious, I rarely see you sleep.”

Vox laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I don’t sleep much, but the sound of the hail usually puts me out. Sorry.” He said, a tad sheepish, and Alastor suddenly felt a little foolish. Of course Vox wouldn’t have been killed by something to trivial as a hailstone.

“It’s fine. Were you cold?” The question slipped out before he had the chance to think, which was unusual. Vox seemed confused, tilting his head slightly.

“Hm? No, I wasn’t cold- Ohhh, the body heat thing.” Vox nodded. “That was an adjustment at first. Sorry if I scared you.”

“I wasn’t scared.”

“I’m a machine.” Vox shrugged. “Only my head and my core really produce heat, and I think my head goes cold when I’m asleep because it’s always cold when I wake up.” He trailed off thoughtfully, and Alastor chuckled.

“You really are something else, though I think you’re already aware of that.” He said, and Vox grinned.

“So I’ve heard.”

The hail continued to beat on the roof, the outside temperature scalding. But inside there was music, and there was laughter, and Vox was cold.

Once they were in a more secure location, Alastor began to unbutton Vox’s shirt to get a better look at the wound, which was difficult to do with one hand, no matter how dexterous his claws were. He managed, but the sight that he was met with was no reward.

The wound had reopened as if it had never been closed, layers of torn flesh and cut wires going deeper than Alastor could see between the ragged edges of Vox’s skin. The sight made him wish Vox was more of a machine, hard and durable and simple to repair. In Alastor’s opinion he was far too organic, too soft, too breakable. He pressed harder, drawing a gasp from Vox as he tried to stem the bleeding, but his claws were narrow and sharp, meant for cutting, not healing. He was the perfect killer, all points and blades, and for once he wished that weren’t the case. Vox’s chest was slick with blood and coolant, and every slip only allowed more to escape.

“No, no no no, Vox, not again. You are not doing this to me again.” He muttered, more to himself than to Vox, who by this point seemed barely conscious. So much so that Alastor started slightly when he felt a hand gently cup his face.

“Hey.” Vox said softly, “I’m not going anywhere. Not… if I have a say in it.” He winced, and his hand dropped to the floor beside him, where Vark was lying, still and quiet. He began to gently lick Vox’s hand, but Vox made no sign of feeling it. His gaze remained fixed on Alastor, something determined creeping in. Something that made Alastor shake his head before Vox even started speaking.

“No-“

“Alastor, I need to say this- don’t interrupt me.” He said, grasping at Alastor’s wrists since he couldn’t hold his hands. “I need… you to know this.” It didn’t escape Alastor’s notice that Vox’s breathing was becoming laboured, his screen growing dim and dull in his version of pale.

“I need you… I think I’ve always… needed you.” Vox stared up at him, eyes wide, and Alastor wanted to stop him, tell him to save it for later, but there was so much blood on their hands, and Vox wasn’t slowing.

“I need you to promise me… that you’ll take care of Vark for me. He likes you. I trust you… to take care of him.” He grasped at Alastor’s wrists. “Promise me.”

“Vox, I-“

“Promise me!”

Alastor blinked. “I promise. But Vox, there’ll be no need. You are not going anywhere. I won’t let you.”

“Al, I’m trying, but there’s an angel downstairs, and I’m… I’m scared, that even if I live, it won’t be here.” Vox whispered, sounding choked up, and Alastor’s breathing caught. He’d been aware of the possibility that Vox would end up in Heaven if he died, like the serpent had, but the thought that Vox would be taken from him by force hadn’t occurred to him, and frankly it terrified him. He couldn’t lose Vox now.

“I’ll follow you.”

“What?”

Alastor took a deep breath, keeping his eyes fixed on Vox’s injury so he wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle Vox’s reaction.

“If you end up in Heaven, I’ll follow you there. I’ll work for all eternity to earn redemption if it means I’ll get to be with you again.”

“Alastor-“

“No. My turn. I refuse to leave you again, I refuse to let you leave me. I would follow you anywhere, Hell, Heaven, or anywhere in between.” He slowly eased one hand off of Vox’s chest, reaching for his microphone that was lying discarded to the side. His fingertips brushed it but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

“I would do everything to keep you with me, I would go anywhere to follow you. I would give anything…” He said, and he felt his microphone nudge his fingertips. When he glanced over he saw Vark pushing it towards him, rolling it closer until he was able to grab it. He nodded a thanks and Vark went back to lying next to Vox, nose pressed against his side. Alastor’s shadow crept up the opposite wall, expression a mix of fearful and determined.

That expression turned to horror as Alastor’s hand slipped. Blood and coolant bubbled and spurted, the swirl of red and blue a cruel mockery of Vox’s eyes, a combination Alastor usually loved being thrown back in his face. Vox paled further, his screen almost completely colourless and beginning to blur with static. He coughed, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

“Al-Alastor, I never needed everything. I only wanted… you.” Vox said, smiling softly. “About what I said… the night you left. I wasn’t certain then… but I am n-now. I love you. I always h-have.”

He’d begin to stutter, wires sparking and screen growing more and more fuzzy around the edges, and Alastor knew he didn’t have much time. He vaguely realised he was crying, silent tears running down his face and dripping onto his lap where Vox was cradled. He gripped his microphone tighter, and willed his voice not to break.

“I love you too, you foolish picture box. I always will.” He said, and Vox grinned, his screen brightening slightly. Alastor smiled, raising his microphone. Vox’s expression morphed into one of confusion.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I told you.” Alastor said, summoning his shadow. “I would give anything to keep you with me.”

As he spoke, the head of the microphone began to glow, softly at first, then brighter, until it allowed his shadow to break away from the wall and crawl across the floor towards where they sat. Vox continued his confused protests, but Alastor ignored him, instead addressing his shadow.

“It’s time. You know what to do.”

His shadow nodded, after all, they’d practiced this hundreds of times. Alastor angled the light of his microphone, the blueish greenish light that blended his and Vox’s power together, towards Vox’s wound, which was still bleeding sluggishly. His shadow smiled, then melted into pure darkness, a condensed ball of power that hovered at the end of the microphone and occasionally shot out neon green sparks, though it glowed a faint red around the edges.

“Alastor wh-what are you doing? Isn’t that thing a pa-part of you? You can’t give it to me!” Vox protested, but his voice was weak and crackling. Alastor shook his head.

“It will be safer with you than it ever was with me.” He said softly, lowering the ball of shadows towards Vox’s wound. “You take care of it, and it’ll take care of you.”

Alastor pushed the ball into Vox’s chest, restraining himself from flinching at the strange sensation that washed over him, as if he was doused with cold water. He felt something inside stretch and then snap, and he saw Vox’s eyes widen.

Then Vox screamed .

Alastor jolted, the awful sound sending a bolt of fear through him until he realised Vox’s wound was no longer bleeding. Then it was no longer a struggle to keep it closed. Then it was no longer a wound, but rather a scar, the skin knitted back together leaving only a silvery line where there was moments ago a horrible gash. Vox’s hands went in to his chest, and Alastor had to hold his wrists to prevent him from scratching or pushing on the newly healed wound. Eventually he calmed slightly, the hysterical screaming making way for heaving sobs. Alastor held Vox as he screamed and cried, and he felt like crying himself. He probably did, but was too distracted to feel it, too busy holding Vox to feel the tears dripping down his face.

Then it was over, and Vox quieted, the only sound being his quiet breathing as his vents pulled in much needed air. Alastor relaxed slightly, lowering Vox to rest on his lap, one hand still carefully cradling his head. To his surprise, Vox’s face had remained on his screen, meaning he hadn’t lost consciousness. He wasn’t sure if that was a positive thing or not.

“Vox, my dear, can you hear me?” Alastor said softly, running a gentle hand down the side of Vox’s screen. His smile widened when Vox’s eyes flickered open, one hand coming up to meet Alastor’s, the other resting over his new scar.

“My dear? Are you in pain?” Alastor didn’t bother keeping the concern from his voice, but Vox shook his head slowly.

“It feels like you.”

Alastor exhaled in pure relief. Vox was alive, no longer bleeding, and speaking clear as ever. Then he processed what it was that Vox had said. It felt like him. He hummed noncommittally, and Vox’s eyes moved from the scar to Alastor’s face, searching for the answer Alastor wasn’t giving.

“Alastor, what did you do?” He asked softly, the question almost hesitant. Alastor shifted his gaze downward, hovering over the jagged scar that crossed Vox’s chest like a lightning bolt crossed the sky.

“I said I would give anything to keep you with me, and I meant it. Of course nothing escapes your notice.” He said, words frustrated but tone fond. “I suppose it would feel like me, whatever that means.”

“It is you, isn’t it?” The words were barely a whisper, Vox’s eyes wide and fixed on Alastor’s face. He seemed to be searching for something, an answer Alastor wasn’t giving, the missing piece of the puzzle. Then he seemed to find it. “You gave me a part of your soul. Alastor, why did you-“

“Because you are more important. I want you, need you, to stay. With me.”

Vox smiled, one hand coming up to gently cup Alastor’s face, turning him slowly until their eyes met.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Charlie wasn’t sure what to think when Emily pulled her aside.

“Emily, what is it?” She prompted, mindful of the angels fluttering wings, from excitement or nerves she wasn’t certain. Emily wrung her hands, her smile a little strained.

“It’s good news, I promise. Or, at least I thought it was. I’m not totally sure now.”

“It’s okay, Emily. I’m sure we can work through whatever it is, everything you’ve said so far has been amazing, so how bad can it be?” Charlie reassured her, trying to ignore the foreboding feeling she got at the angels words. Emily nodded, taking a deep breath.

“As you know, Sir Pentious is officially redeemed and has earned his place in Heaven. The hotel works, yay!” She paused, doing a jazz hands gesture. Charlie gestured for her to continue, and she perked up a little.

“I came down to tell you about Heaven accepting the hotel and to bring Sir Pentious down, but I also came to collect someone else. Our council has recognised signs of redemption in another sinner and we want to offer him a place in Heaven.” She said quickly and Charlie blinked as she processed Emily’s words.

“Wait, seriously? You mean sinners don’t have to die to gain entry to Heaven? That’s amazing!” She exclaimed, then paused, sobering slightly. “Wait, who are you here to collect?”

Emily seemed to hesitate before answering, and when she spoke it was as if she were reading from cue cards.

“The television-headed sinner known as Vox has been approved for entry into Heaven, due to his acts of selflessness, generosity, and sacrifice. His lack of recent engagement in sinful actions has been taken as evidence of redemption, and further proof the Hazbin Hotel is successful.”

It felt like a deep dark pit had opened in Charlie’s stomach, and it only grew deeper and darker with every word Emily spoke. She was here for Vox.

Vox, who hadn’t even wanted to stay at the hotel, because he didn’t care what happened to him. Vox, who couldn’t leave his pet shark for more than a day. Vox, who had admitted to wanting to stay in Hell forever in order to stay with the one he loved, even when he thought Alastor didn’t love him back.

Vox, who powered all of Hell, and might not be able to leave.

“You can’t take him.”

“It won’t hurt him, I promise! All damage will be healed and he’ll be given a new form, like Sir Pentious was. And Sera even checked if he could leave, and he can, Hell will go back to how it was before he arrived, there’ll be no damage.”

“Emily, you cannot take him.” Charlie repeated, her tone serious. “I made a promise, when Vox first came to the hotel, that I would help him. He never wanted redemption. I made a promise to myself too, that the hotel was to help my people, and part of that promise involves not letting Heaven take Vox. You can’t take him.”

Emily blinked, clearly taken aback at the idea of someone not wanting to go to Heaven. Charlie softened. Emily didn’t mean any harm.

“You see,” She said, softer this time, “Vox has his reasons for wanting to stay here. He has things he cares about down here.” She smiled gently. “People he loves.”

Emily still seemed confused, but she nodded anyway.

“I don’t think I understand, but if it’s what’s best for him, if it’s what he wants, then I won’t get in the way of that. We can’t exactly force someone to redeem themselves, but the invitation will remain open if he ever changes his mind.” She said, and Charlie beamed.

“Oh, Emily, thank you. You don’t know how much this means.” She embraced Emily, careful of her wings, and Emily immediately returned the gesture.

“It’s okay. I think I should go now, but if you ever need anything, call out to me and I’ll come right down.”

Charlie nodded, and Emily smiled, and then there was a blinding flash of light. When Charlie managed to blink the spots out of her vision, Emily was gone.

Chapter Text

Vox wasn’t sure what to think, and he sure as hell wasn’t sure what to say. What did one say to the person who gave up a piece of their soul to save your life? After all, that’s what Alastor had done. Vox had the misfortune of being, if anything, too aware of his own body, with every physical experience flashed up in front of his screen for him to read about as if he wasn’t already feeling it. He knew exactly how much blood he’d lost. He knew the precise number in gallons, pints, and ounces. It was too much, combined with the leaking coolant, to keep his body going. If the wound hadn’t been closed when it was, he’d have been dead in minutes.

He’d be dead now.

It was a funny thing, realising you wanted to live. Sometimes it still didn’t make sense. Vox had felt nothing but grief for so long that he hadn’t been sure he knew how to feel anything else, but since staying at the hotel, he’d more than been proven wrong. He’d felt everything, joy, sorrow, fear, excitement, pride, anger. Love. He’d felt more alive than when he’d actually been alive, and he’d come to realise he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay at the hotel. He wanted to stay with Alastor.

He just didn’t know what to say .

They were still sitting on the floor in Alastor’s room, the plush red carpet growing sticky with drying blood and coolant, but Vox found he didn’t want to move yet. He wasn’t sure if he even could. His body still felt weak and shaky, and while it was slowly regenerating the fluids he’d lost, he realised it might be a while before he felt truly well. His mind on the other hand felt clearer than it had in months, like a fog that had been lingering had finally been blown away. Like something that had been broken for a long time had finally been fixed. He felt whole, in a way he hadn’t felt since the battle against Heaven, maybe even longer. Since Alastor had left.

If he focused, he could feel the fragment of soul Alastor gave him, curled around his heart like an embrace. He almost expected it to feel cold like a shadow, or dark, whatever that felt like, but instead it felt vaguely warm and a little indescribable. It just felt like Alastor.

The rest of Alastor was curled around the rest of him like an embrace. Folded on the floor and gently playing with his antennae while Vox stared blankly at the spot on the ceiling where it transitioned from stylish wooden carvings to leafy bayou canopy. Occasionally a spark would jump between his antennae and Alastor would laugh softly, his smile warm. Vark was curled on the floor beside them, tail waving slowly from side to side and occasionally brushing Vox’s leg. He might have been asleep.

The scene was a peaceful one, but Vox couldn’t stop thinking. Why had Alastor been able to give him a piece of his soul? Souls were usually dealt whole, or in halves, but pretty much never in small fragments like the one he had. A great many sinners made deals either on camera or through digital means, which meant Vox had access, or at least visuals, to thousands of contracts.

None of them were for a small part of a soul, and the ones for half souls only served to show that souls were incredibly difficult to split. So how did Alastor already have a piece seperate? It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t split your own soul, and they hadn’t made a deal because Vox would never have accepted it. Alastor had freely given him a pre-existing soul fragment. Vox narrowed his eyes, and subtly shifted his gaze from the ceiling to Alastor.

He seemed… softer, around the edges, patiently waiting for Vox to recover. But he also seemed dimmer. Like a light had been switched off. He looked almost like… like Husk did.

No. He wouldn’t have. Couldn’t have.

Nothing else explained it. Alastor had given him a piece of his soul because that piece was all he had left. Alastor had sold his soul, then given the final shard to Vox. Alastor must have noticed him tense, because his hand stilled on Vox’s antenna.

“Picture box, are you alright?”

“I- uh, yeah, I’m alright.”

Vox wasn’t sure why he hadn’t confronted Alastor, he’d meant to, but Alastor looked so happy, genuinely happy, that he just couldn’t bring himself to ruin it. Instead he smiled and attempted to sit up, an effort that yielded little result until Alastor chuckled softly and helped him. Vox blinked as his head spun, and once again danced around what he really wanted to know by bringing up something else he’d been wondering about.

“So, you love me?” Vox asked, tone a mix of genuine curiosity and slight teasing mischief. Alastor sighed, but his smile remained fond.

“Yes, I do. Before you tease, remember you have already admitted to loving me in return. So you’ll find you have no leg to stand on.” He said, grinning, surprisingly calm for having admitted experiencing affection. Vox supposed being correct brought Alastor a sense of comfort that made being honest a little easier.

“So what now?” Vox asked quietly. Alastor stopped, expression turning thoughtful.

“I admit I hadn’t really thought about it. I just know I want you by my side, forever, if you’ll allow it.” He sounded unsure, and Vox wondered briefly if Alastor had ever had this conversation before. He himself had only had it once, some costar he’d been with way back when he was alive.

“I think I’d allow that, yeah.” He said, only slightly teasing, and Alastor rolled his eyes. Vox chuckled, then winced. Okay, so his chest was still a little sore, such were the cons of almost dying. Alastor looked slightly concerned but Vox just grinned, a little confused.

“Wait, that’s it? I mean, what are we now? Do you want to live together? Are we in a relationship? What do you want?”

Alastor laughed, and Vox felt a little foolish, but then his expression turned thoughtful. “I suppose it would be beneficial to set things straight now.”

“Nothing about this is straight.”

“We both know that’s not what I meant.” Alastor said reproachfully and Vox put his hands up in mock surrender. Alastor sighed fondly once more.

“I have no desire for a sexual relationship, and would prefer not to engage that way at all.” He said, the overly formal tone implying he expected some kind of pushback, but Vox just nodded.

“That’s fine. Never really had a need for it myself.” He said casually, and Alastor’s eyes and smile widened slightly.

“You… what?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and Vox blinked.

“Wait, were you worried I would be upset about that?” He said incredulously, and Alastor looked away, ears pinned back. Vox softened. “Is that why you didn’t say anything?”

“I was of the understanding that the way I am would not be enough for you.”

Vox almost laughed at the ridiculousness of that statement, but Alastor seemed genuinely upset about it, so instead he took one of Alastor’s hands in his.

“You, the way you are, is all I’ve ever wanted. Nothing more. I don’t care about sex, just being around you is better.”

“I think there are very few people who would agree with you on that one, my dear.” He said, and Vox laughed.

“Well fuck them! Sex is overrated. I don’t hate it, but I definitely don’t need it, so if you don’t want it, fine by me.”

Alastor nodded, relaxing now that what seemed to have been his main concern had been addressed. “Well, aside from that, we’ve already been living together for several months. Nothing needs to change in that regard.”

Vox blinked. Alastor was right, they had been living together, granted in seperate rooms but still in the same building, and they spent more time together than time apart. Even now they were both sitting in Alastor’s room, and Vox felt more at home than he ever had in his tower. He felt happier than he’d felt, possibly ever, and that was including almost dying twice.

“Huh. I guess that’s true.” Vox said, eyebrows furrowing. “What changes then? Other than us knowing we love each other. Do we call it something? Are we married?!”

The thought entered his brain suddenly, like a speeding train. Were they married? A soul bond created through a gift was different to one formed by a contract. They were bound together now. That was kind of like marriage, right? Did he love Alastor like that? It didn’t feel like the romantic flings he’d had in life, what he had with Alastor was more than that, it had always been more than that. Alastor was his best friend, the person he loved more than anything else, the one he wanted to spend the rest of eternity with, just as they were. Nothing more and nothing less.

Alastor looked like a deer in headlights for a moment, but seemed to recover quickly. “Married? Not as far as I know, my silly picture box.” He grinned, chuckling softly. “I’d say we’re… partners. Though I suppose soulmates is also applicable.”

Vox wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not, so he settled on a grin, and his chest felt warm.

“Partners is a good word for it.” He said, and it was. Vague enough to describe their relationship, but definitive enough to say they belonged to one another.

“Partners… I like that.”

After Emily left, Charlie rejoined the rest of the hotel crew, and they entered the hotel together. Thankfully the lobby was empty of dead pimps by the time they did, and Charlie didn’t even want to know what Niffty had done with Valentino’s body, she was just glad it was gone. The little sinner herself was crouched in the corner, vigorously scrubbing blood off the wall. A small pile of dirty cloths and sponges lay beside her, some stained red and some stained blue. The carpet was already spotless.

They stood in the entryway, bloodied and tired and silent, the only sound the soft echoes of Niffty’s scrubbing bouncing around the empty hotel lobby. Charlie found herself wishing a little less of the hotel decor was red, so she could stop thinking she glimpsed blood where there wasn’t any. Angel was the one to break the silence.

“What the fuck happened in here?!”

Charlie inhaled sharply, turning to face her family, partly so she could look them in the eye and partly so she wouldn’t have to look at the dark patch that lingered on the floor in the corner.

“Some of the fight made it inside, I don’t know how much you guys saw…” She trailed off, looking at the ground. Then she felt a hand on hers, and looked up to see Vaggie smiling softly in encouragement.

“We’re here for you Charlie. Just tell us what happened.” She said calmly, and Charlie almost started crying right there, but instead she squeezed Vaggie’s hand and took a deep breath, nodding slightly.

“Yeah, okay. Vox lured Valentino inside, and Alastor followed them. I didn’t see what exactly happened, but when I came in Vox was bleeding, like bad, and Alastor looked really angry, and Vark was growling, and I think he ripped Valentino’s wings off, and Valentino was dead.” The words tumbled out all at once, like a dam had broken and nothing could hold them back.

“Well fuck.” Angel said softly. “Val’s dead? Like dead-dead?”

Charlie sniffed. “I think so. There was a knife sticking out of his back. I didn’t really get a good look. Emily came in, and Alastor threatened her-“

“He what?!” Vaggie interrupted, eye wide. “He actually threatened an angel?”

Charlie nodded. At the time Alastor had just looked angry, but in hindsight she realised he was probably terrified, thinking that Emily was going to take Vox away. To be fair he had every reason to be scared, that had been her intention, but that still wasn’t much of an excuse for threatening to eat her. Still, if it had been her and someone had been trying to take Vaggie away, Charlie probably would have threatened them too, so she couldn’t bring herself to be angry at him.

“It was a pretty high-stress situation.” She said, eyes welling again at the thought of Alastor curled protectively around Vox, Vark standing guard in front of them. Everyone sobered slightly at the sight of her tears, Sir Pentious audibly sniffling.

“Vox is gonna be okay, though. Smiles wouldn’t let anything happen to ‘im, right?” Angel said hesitantly, glancing between Charlie and the empty room. Charlie could only shrug. Husk growled softly.

“He better be alright. I didn’t get the chance to thank him yet, and I’ll be double damned if I let that slide.” He said lowly, and Charlie didn’t miss the way Angel curled one of his lower arms around the feline’s shoulders. She tilted her head slightly, quickly wiping her tears away. “What do you mean?”

Husk sighed. “You think Alastor let me go because of a sudden change of heart? Bullshit, Vox definitely had something to do with it. I wasn’t sure if he would, he seemed kinda off when Angel asked him.” He shot Angel a look, but the spider only shrugged, grinning slightly.

“Hey, it was worth a shot. I knew he had some pull, so I thought ‘what’s the harm?’” He said, grin dropping as he remembered the current situation. “I figured it was our best option.” He finished lamely, and Husk nudged him gently.

“Nah, I’m glad you asked. It worked after all.” He said softly, and Angel relaxed. Charlie and Vaggie shared a look, and Vaggie smiled comfortingly, but Charlie looked away. Again, Vox had helped them, and they were forced to stand around while he lay injured, possibly dying. All of a sudden, using the hotel to get her people into Heaven didn’t seem like such a good idea.

No. She couldn’t think that way. The hotel was the best thing she’d ever done. It had brought people together, given her more of a family than she ever could have hoped for. It gave people a safe place. Even if Heaven wasn’t as good as she’d thought, the hotel still could be. She would help her people, no matter what that looked like. She met Vaggie’s look with a small smile of her own.

“He’ll be okay. If anyone is stubborn enough to pull through, it’s Vox. He won’t leave, not if Alastor’s with him.” She said, and Vaggie nodded as if she knew Charlie was mostly talking to herself.

They did eventually enter the lobby properly, Angel and Husk heading for the bar and Sir Pentious wandering around the lobby admiring the new building, while Vaggie led Charlie to the sitting area. None of them looked to the back of the room where Niffty was still dutifully scrubbing.

Charlie let Vaggie lead her to the couch, feeling significantly overwhelmed. The uncertainty was driving her crazy, not knowing what happened in the hotel while she was outside, not knowing where Vox and Alastor had disappeared to, not knowing how badly Vox was hurt.

Vaggie sat down on the couch next to her. “It’ll be okay hon,” She said, rubbing circles on Charlie’s hand with her thumb. “If Vox can survive a hit from Adam, he can survive anything.”

“What if that injury never healed?” Charlie whispered.

“What do you mean? Your dad fixed it, didn’t he?”

“I thought he did.” Charlie said softly. “But Vox hasn’t been well since the battle. What if that’s the reason? The seizures, the disassociation, what if he’s been sick the whole time and I didn’t notice?” She pulled her knees up to her chest, tucking her feet up on the couch and wrapping one arm around her legs, while the other hand remained entwined with Vaggie’s, who frowned.

“Charlie, it’s not your fault. Vox is an adult, it was up to him to manage his health, there’s no way you could have known there was something wrong.”

“I should have noticed the wound wasn’t healing. I should have watched him more closely. Angelic wounds are serious, I know that.” She looked up and met Vaggie’s eye, and Vaggie looked almost guilty.

“I know… but it’s still not your fault. I know what it’s like to wish you’d done things differently. But you can’t change the past, no matter how hard you try. What you can do, is move forward, and be there for the people you care about. It’ll be okay, Vox will be okay, and we’ll be there for him.” She said, giving Charlie’s hand a gentle squeeze. Charlie turned and threw her arms around her girlfriend, holding her tightly.

“I love you.” She whispered. Vaggie returned her embrace.

“I love you too.”

As Charlie pulled back, there was a bright flash of light, and her breath caught in her throat, the sight all too reminiscent of descending angels, coming to kill her people or take her friends away.

No angels arrived. This light was warm, a soft golden glow rather than the harsh white of holy light. She knew that light. The glow became more tangible, a rippling shape solidifying in the air, before splitting open to form a portal. Charlie’s heart leapt as her father stepped out.

“Sorry I’m late, Heaven called an emergency meeting to tell me you rejected an offer? I sensed angels here, is everyone alright?” He said, seeming only slightly concerned once his eyes landed on Charlie. He looked her over, as if to confirm that she was unharmed, and then he seemed to relax, grinning casually. Charlie stood to meet him, and she must have looked as upset as she felt, because his grin faltered slightly, concern blooming in his eyes again.

“Char? What’s going on?” He reached out to her, somewhat hesitantly, but Charlie kept her hands resolutely by her sides.

“Dad,” She paused, her thoughts racing as she tried to figure out how to word her next statements. “The hotel was attacked.”

The way Lucifer’s wings appeared already flared in alarm was a sign that she probably could have worded that better. Charlie rushed to elaborate, gesturing frantically.

“We’re alright, I mean, no one died, and we won! And Emily brought Sir Pentious back with her when she came down, so that’s good, but… there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Lucifer stared at her, a mix of proud and concerned while he processed her breathless ramble. Then he nodded, wings vanishing into his back as he settled.

“Yeah, sure, of course.” He said, clearly still grappling with the idea that the hotel had come under attack again. Charlie sighed.

“A couple of overlords attacked us, because they were after Vox. They weren’t really a problem. The problem is that Vox ended up really hurt, and I don’t think the attack caused it.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened slightly and he glanced away, not looking Charlie in the eye.

“You’re sure? I mean, you can’t know for sure with situations like this, some of those overlords are really violent, I’m sure they could have done it.”

Charlie crossed her arms in front of her chest, eyes narrowed. By now Lucifer’s presence had drawn the attention of the rest of the hotel residents, and they were not-so-subtly listening in. Charlie spotted Angel and Husk sharing popcorn out of the corner of her eye before she leveled her dad with a look.

“Dad, this is serious. Vox hasn’t been well, and I think you know why.”

Lucifer sighed, deflating slightly. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, then put his hat back on crooked. His demeanour had shifted, and the air around him seemed to shift with it, the atmosphere growing serious and his expression growing almost regretful.

“I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen.” He started, and Charlie almost interrupted before he put a hand up to stop her. “When I healed him, I didn’t know if it would work at all, let alone be a permanent solution. Sinners aren’t meant to be healed, and angelic power isn’t supposed to help them. It’s lucky he’s mostly machine, meant it was more like repairing rather than healing.” He chuckled sheepishly, then cleared his throat awkwardly at Charlie’s unimpressed expression.

“Anyway, I had a feeling it wouldn’t last.”

“You should have told me.”

Lucifer looked stricken. “I didn’t know how.” He said quietly. “When I did it I didn’t even know if he would wake up, and you were already so upset, I couldn’t…” He sighed again, and Charlie softened slightly. He hadn’t meant to cause any harm, and he had healed Vox despite a dislike of sinners in general. Charlie understood the feeling of not wanting to kill hope, so she couldn’t be too angry at him.

“Is there anything you can do to help now?” She asked hesitantly, and Lucifer winced, head tilting side to side.

“I don’t know Charlie, you know sometimes there’s just nothing you can do. I don’t mind the guy, but in the end he’s just another sinner, you know?” He said, looking at her almost sympathetically. She bristled, annoyed at his attempt to protect her from something she didn’t need protecting from.

“He saved my life Dad.” She said sharply, only slightly exaggerating. Velvette had been about to strike at her again when Vox had pulled her away. Lucifer froze at her words and she sighed before continuing.

“When the hotel was attacked, Vox protected me. He’s a part of our family here. That means something to me.” She said, and Lucifer looked away awkwardly. Charlie reached down and took one of his hands between her own.

“Please Dad, if there’s anything at all you can do-“

“Not me,” He said, sighing. “But your friend might, what’s his name, the red one with the ears…”

“You mean Alastor?”

He snapped his fingers. “That’s the one. I told him a method that might- might work. It’s never been done before though.”

That caught Charlie’s attention, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t worry her. Though, of all the people she’d trust to pull of something never before done, it would be Vox and Alastor. They just had a way of making things work. Vaggie’s words replayed in her head. ‘If Vox can survive a hit from Adam, he can survive anything.’

“I understand why you couldn’t tell me then. But please, tell me now. Tell me everything.” She pleaded, and Lucifer hesitated only a moment before nodding.

Alastor watched Vox closely as he stood on shaky legs and stepped carefully around Vark on his way to the bathroom.

“You know,” Vox said, “You might not mind being covered in blood, but I kinda prefer not to be, so I’m gonna get cleaned up, and then I think I’ll burn this shirt.” He gestured at his tattered garment that was still hanging open, at the large dark patch in the centre of his chest and the missing buttons and torn buttonholes that were the result of Alastor’s hasty undoing. Alastor shook his head fondly.

“Always so particular, aren’t you, picture box? Compensating for your awkward head?” He teased, and Vox grinned, screen brightening considerably.

“Okay, first of all I know you like my head, so don’t even try, and second, you’re one to talk Mr All I Wear Is Red. Is there even a single item of clothing in there that isn’t red?” He returned the jest, and Alastor shrugged, glancing away in mock innocence.

“I don’t see a problem.”

“Oh, sure. Let’s check then, if you’re so certain.” Vox said, throwing open the doors of Alastor’s dark wood wardrobe, only to stop. Alastor’s ears pricked forward, and he leaned around Vox to try and see what had made him freeze. Oh.

Blue. Nestled securely among the sea of red, and he would admit it was a lot of red, was a splash of blue, right in the centre. A patch of softness among the harsh lines of pressed shirts and tattered coats. One blue sweater hanging innocently in the middle of it all.

Vox reached out and ran a hand over the soft knit. “I thought I’d lost this… in like the sixties, Alastor how long have you had this?” He asked somewhat incredulously, turning around to face Alastor, one sleeve of the sweater still held gently between his claws. Alastor shifted slightly, not looking Vox in the eye.

“Oh, a while now. Can’t remember exactly when it ended up in my possession.” It was a lie, and he had a feeling Vox knew it, if his single raised eyebrow was any indication. Alastor shrugged, grinning conspiratorially.

Alastor stood outside one of the finer restaurants in Pentagram City, and though it wasn’t a cannibal establishment it didn’t look half bad. He plucked his pocket watch from his shadow and checked it, more as something to do more than out of a desire to know the time. He knew he was early. It was rude to be late after all, and the person he was meeting was one he didn’t want to be rude to, for a change.

Vox was an unusual sinner, and their tentative friendship was a testament to that. Not many were able to get even half as close to the Radio Demon and live. Yet somehow this strange box had wormed his way in and refused to leave, no matter how cold Alastor had been at first. For he had been cold. He had made all manner of threats and violent displays, and though Vox had always seemed slightly uncomfortable, he still seemed to like Alastor for some reason. Why? He didn’t understand it. Vox didn’t seem to like him for his power or his reputation, but for his personality? It was preposterous.

Vox had even admitted once that he only listened to half of Alastor’s broadcasts, that he listened to the music and talk sections and turned it off for the screaming! Alastor just didn’t understand what made this weirdo tick. Literally or figuratively. He dedicated more brainpower to it than he wanted, but recently Vox’s workings had been puzzling him. That was part of the reason he’d invited him to a restaurant. Vox had mentioned eating occasionally, and Alastor couldn’t for the afterlife of him envision how that would work, when Vox’s screen thus far had always seemed to be a solid piece of glass.

“Alastor! You’re here already!” Vox’s voice called from down the street, and Alastor noted that he was also early. He came jogging along the sidewalk, grinning brightly and holding something unlike anything else Alastor had ever seen.

“Where ever did you find those?” He said, tilting his head curiously and pointing to the slightly wilted bouquet clutched in Vox’s hand. Vox blinked.

“The flowers? Shit, should I not have brought flowers? Fuck, I mean, I’m sorry I thought- I can get rid of them! Just let me-“

“Stop, stop!” Alastor laughed. “I’m just confused as to where you found them. Flowers are a rare thing down here, and I’ve never seen any that look quite like that.”

Vox relaxed, looking at the flowers. “Oh. I kinda grew them.” He said casually, as if that wasn’t the most insane thing Alastor had heard in the last few decades. Vox continued, clearly not noticing the oddity of the situation. “Yeah, I got lost one day and I wandered into this weird garden-“

Alastor stuttered, which he didn’t often do, but Vox didn’t seem to notice.

“-And it seemed really abandoned so I’ve been watering the plants, and then one day these popped up. Kinda neat, huh?” He looked at Alastor expectantly, who blinked as he processed the words.

“Ah, yes, I suppose that is, as you put it, ‘neat’. But I’m afraid I can’t accept this… gesture, as I have a generally negative effect on plant life…” He trailed off as Vox handed him the bouquet and the flowers remained only slightly wilted. He switched hands. The flowers stubbornly refused to die. It seemed that, like their caretaker, these flowers refused to be repulsed by him.

The dinner went well overall, both as a social outing and an information gathering session, as Alastor had determined that Vox could in fact eat, by way of his screen opening and the food vanishing inside. Drinking functioned much the same way, he was pleased to find out, because that meant Vox could get drunk. Once they’d finished their meal and Alastor had sufficiently terrified everyone else in the restaurant, he promptly invited himself back to Vox’s apartment with the express purpose of getting his almost friend absolutely plastered .

Vox had proudly shown him around his living space, and if he was being honest it wasn’t awful. In Alastor’s opinion there was far too much technology, but aside from that it was tastefully, if minimally, decorated, and overall was clean and organised. He sat down on Vox’s plain grey sofa and summoned a bottle of whisky and two glasses from the shadows.

“Care for a nightcap? After all, it’s not like you have to get home afterwards.” He said, holding one of the glasses out towards Vox, who hesitated slightly before taking it. Alastor grinned.

After that, it didn’t take much to get Vox drunk. If anything he was a lightweight, and Alastor’s choice of a vintage rye did nothing to help with that. Before long Vox was curled up in the armchair across from Alastor, his sweater removed and laid somewhat carefully over the armrest, leaving him in only his light blue button-up shirt. Alastor himself was grinning lazily, the effects of the alcohol taking hold, making him relax more than he would have otherwise.

It seemed Vox was a sleepy drunk, for it really didn’t take long for him to doze off, and Alastor’s choice of found himself watching the TV demon sleep. It was the only time he’d seen Vox stay in one place for more than a minute, and certainly the only time he’d seen him be so quiet. His screen became blurred with static, the soft buzzing filling the air and adding to the soothing atmosphere. He looked so peaceful, and Alastor smiled softly, then caught himself. What was that?

Did he care about Vox? The thought was astounding. They were something like friends, but Alastor had plenty of friends, that didn’t mean anything. Of course, Rosie was a fellow overlord and Mimzy was more of a longtime acquaintance, he’d never been to her house and she’d never been allowed in his broadcast tower. He bristled silently, alarmed at the extent to which this TV had charmed his way into his life, and was surprised at himself for letting it happen. It hadn’t seemed like a problem before, but now that he was aware of it…

Vox shifted slightly in his sleep and Alastor’s gaze snapped to him. It didn’t have to be a problem. He could kill Vox right now, nice and quick while he slept, and no one would be any the wiser about his brief lapse of judgment. It wouldn’t be difficult, he thought as he pulled a knife from the shadows, his antlers sharpening. He stood, looming over Vox, blade extended slowly until it brushed the delicate skin of Vox’s throat. All he had to do was strike.

Alastor withdrew the knife.

The thought of killing Vox didn’t make him feel better. If anything it made him feel worse, which was annoying. He couldn’t afford to be this attached to some random sinner. It wouldn’t do. Alastor took a step back when Vox shifted again, mumbling something he couldn’t make out. He needed to leave. This friendly arrangement had gone too far, and he needed to get away before he became dangerously endeared to this strange picture box.

Alastor turned and picked up his microphone, intending to immediately vanish into the shadows, but something made him hesitate. He may not see Vox again, if everything went his way. Friends, genuine friends, who he cared about, were simply too dangerous to have in Hell. Sentimentality was a weakness, and weaknesses were always exploited. The problem was, he really did like Vox. Cared for him, even. Alastor glanced back.

Before he had the chance to convince himself it was a bad idea, he plucked Vox’s sweater from the armrest of the chair, careful not to disturb the sinner himself, before disappearing into the shadows.

Alastor watched fondly as Vox discarded his ruined shirt and tugged the sweater over his boxy head. He kept a close eye on the faint scar on Vox’s chest that less than half an hour ago had been a life-threatening wound. The silvery line stretched as Vox raised his arms, but he saw no cause for concern before it was obscured by soft blue knit.

“I believe it was the spring of ‘62.” He said softly, and Vox spun around, screen bright.

“You do remember! I searched my whole apartment you know, thinking I’d lost it. I thought I just couldn’t remember where I’d put it. But you took it, didn’t you?” He pointed an accusing finger at Alastor, but he was smiling. Alastor shrugged innocently.

“Maybe.” He said, grinning. Then he softened, looking Vox up and down. “That was the first time I realised I cared about you.”

Vox’s eyes widened and his hand dropped. “Wait, that early? I wasn’t sure you liked me until the mid 70’s.” He said, and Alastor laughed softly.

“I suppose I didn’t exactly show it. I’ll admit I was… hesitant in showing any kind of affection.” He looked away, almost ashamed, but when he glanced back at Vox he saw no anger, only patience. Alastor’s smile faded, becoming rueful.

“I was afraid, back then. I considered killing you that night to save myself the trouble of caring about someone.” He paused, meeting Vox’s now slightly concerned expression with a determined one.

“I’m not afraid anymore. I give you my word on that.”

Vox’s smile was blinding in more ways than one. He seemed brighter, even more than before the fight with Heaven, and Alastor wondered if it had something to do with the additional soul fragment he now held. It was possible, since Lucifer had neglected to tell him all the effects of the transfer, only that it should counter the angelic energy that was preventing Vox from healing. It made sense that it had boosted him, they had proven to be quite compatible. Alastor smiled wryly, watching Vox gently wake Vark and continue cleaning himself up. He’d have to get used to the reduced power, but it was worth it already.

“So,” Vox said brightly, standing and glancing at the door. “We should probably let everyone know I’m not dead. Charlie is probably freaking out.”

Alastor chuckled, then winced at the thought of everyone seeing the mess of blood and coolant he knew they’d left behind. Not to mention Valentino’s body. He found he wanted nothing to do with it, a far cry from how he normally treated those he killed, but the idea of even being close to that repulsive moth again almost made him want to sneer. Hopefully the body had been moved so he didn’t have to look at it.

It turned out better than Alastor had hoped for. The body was gone, and so was pretty much all of the blood. Niffty must have done it, she was even better than he was at getting stains out. They’d entered quietly enough that nobody had noticed them, each person in the lobby absorbed in their own conversations. Alastor’s eyes brushed over Husk and Angel Dust at the bar, only a little surprised that Husk was still there despite not needing to be. He supposed it made sense, wanting to stay close to those you cared about. He glanced at Vox, who grinned mischievously and pointed at the sitting area before going back to scratching Vark behind the gills.

Visible over the back of the couches were two heads, one blonde and one wearing a large red bow, and between them, the top of a large white hat.

Ugh. Lucifer.

Alastor rolled his eyes, about to scoff, but was stopped by Vox grasping at his hand, holding a finger to his screen as a sign to be quiet, still grinning almost giddily. Alastor smiled fondly. Seeing Vox happy, truly happy and excited, sent a surge of relief through him, along with a warm feeling that he remembered feeling back when he was alive, with his mother. Love. That must be what that was. It had been a while, but he had to admit it was nice to feel it again.

Alastor was pulled from his musing when Vox cleared his throat.

“Wow, why so somber in here, it’s not like anyone died!”

The response was immediate. Charlie gasped loudly, spinning around to stare at them before vaulting over the back of the couch in a surprisingly graceful rush. She scrambled over to them, only to practically crash into Vox with the force of her embrace.

“You’re alive!” She sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder. Alastor had to stifle a laugh as Vox patted her hair awkwardly. She sniffed loudly.

“There was so much blood, I thought you were gonna die!”

Vox chuckled softly, and she pulled back, expression almost accusatory. He sobered, clearing his throat.

“Well, I almost did. Alastor saved my life.” He said, shooting Alastor a fond look that made him feel warm. Alastor glimpsed movement at the bar and looked over to see Husk hand Angel Dusk a wad of cash.

Hm. He must not have hidden his affection as well as he thought he had. It seemed Husk and Angel had not been the only ones to notice. Lucifer strolled over, grinning smugly.

“Sooo, I see you took my advice.” He said, rocking back on his heels in a way that was so self satisfied it made Alastor want to smack the stupid grin off his dumb face. Thankfully he was above such crude behaviour, as he had a feeling Vox wouldn’t be happy if he got into another spat with the king of Hell. Instead he grit his teeth and bowed his head slightly in Lucifer’s direction.

“The tip was appreciated.” He drawled, enjoying the way Lucifer’s smug grin fell slightly when he didn’t rise to the provocation. Alastor returned his attention to Charlie, who had thankfully stopped crying. He never really knew how to deal with her tears. Vaggie had joined her, holding one of her hands as she spoke with Vox. Alastor sidled up to them and snaked an arm around Vox’s waist, smile widening as Vox’s screen brightened.

“Yes, I am very glad I was able to save our picture box here.” He said, smoothly interrupting, glancing between Charlie and Lucifer. “It would have been quite the tragedy if he had died protecting this fine establishment.”

Vox glanced sideways at him, silent questions in his expressions. Then audible questions came through their frequency.

“What are you doing?”

“Watch and learn my dear. I’m about to guilt trip the devil himself.”

Vox’s laughter echoed through their link, and Alastor grinned. Meanwhile, Charlie’s expression had become one of determination, and she waved her father over.

“Dad, Alastor is right.” She said, and wasn’t that a joy to hear. “Vox was only hurt this time because he wasn’t healed properly last time. I know you did your best, but he did save my life, isn’t there any way we can repay him?” She said, eyes big and pleading, and when Lucifer winced and looked away Alastor knew he’d won. Lucifer would fall for Charlie’s puppy eyes hook line and sinker, and Alastor wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

Lucifer sighed. “Yeah, fine. Vox, thank you for protecting my daughter. She means more to me than… anything really.” He said, and Alastor was almost surprised at how genuine he sounded. His little manipulation might have even better results than he expected. The only way it could have been improved was if Lucifer was apologising to him, but cé la vie. Having the king of Hell thank Vox, and want to repay him, was satisfying enough. Alastor grinned.

Vox reeled slightly as Lucifer spoke to him. Or more accurately, thanked him. He nodded mutely, still very aware of Alastor’s arm wrapped around his waist in a way that felt almost possessive. Privately, he was glad for the support. He hadn’t taken as much time to recover as he maybe should have, and he was still feeling the lingering effects of the blood loss, even though the wound was completely painless, as though it had been healed for months rather than under an hour.

The whole situation seemed surreal, and he was mostly just happy to be alive. Alastor had made it happen, bent the rules to keep him around. Partners.

Just the thought of the word made him feel warm inside, sent warnings flashing through his system telling him to slow his heart rate. There were a few other warnings too, but he ignored them too, focusing instead on the softness of the blue sweater he found suddenly returned to him. It was a strange feeling, not because it wasn’t familiar, but because it was. It felt exactly the same as the last time he’d worn it, that wonderful awful night back in ‘62. He’d finally felt close to Alastor, only for him to withdraw suddenly to a frosty distance for a while. Vox had been hesitant for years after that.

But now? Gone was the distance, and with it went the hesitation.

Alastor’s decision to try to manipulate Lucifer was an interesting choice, but not an unexpected one. He just couldn’t help himself, it was like he had a constant inescapable need to make trouble and cut deals. In fact, as soon as Vox realised Lucifer was there, he’d had a suspicion Alastor would try something. It was already known that something like a royal title wouldn’t stop him.

Alastor provoking Lucifer, that he had expected. Now Lucifer was thanking him. Somehow he had not expected that. Hadn’t expected the genuine gratitude from someone who was not only miles above him in both power and position, but who had referred to him as ‘Battery’ until very recently. Lucifer trailed off a little awkwardly, and it occurred to Vox that he should probably say something.

“You don’t have to thank me, your majesty.” He said, and immediately felt Alastor’s incredulous look without even having to see it. Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say. Oh well, fuck it.

“If anything, Charlie saved me. The hotel saved my life, so of course I protected it.” He said, nudging Alastor subtly to stop him from interrupting. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Vox, you almost died-“ Charlie piped up but Lucifer put a hand out to stop her.

“Charlie’s right.” He said, and she smiled. Lucifer sighed. “You were willing to give up everything to protect my daughter’s dream. It’s more than I’ve done.“ He glanced downward, and Vox almost felt bad for the guy. He clearly loved Charlie, but he had a ways to go with showing it. Then Lucifer straightened, determined expression on his face. He looked a lot like Charlie then, or maybe the other way around, maybe she looked a lot like him.

“I’m sorry.” Lucifer said. Only two words, but there was a weight behind them. It was then that Vox remembered he was speaking to the devil himself. That kind of thing meant something. Lucifer stepped forward and Vox almost took a step back, stopped only by Alastor’s arm held securely around him.

“I knew I hadn’t fully healed you. That was my failure, and my second mistake was keeping it to myself. I apologise for that.” Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “I usually pride myself on being better than you sinners, but I’m not proud of my recent actions concerning you.”

Silence fell over them, but it was the kind of silence that meant something was about to happen. Vox knew this silence well. Every performer did. The slow build of tension, the gathering storm clouds that meant rain was about to fall. Lucifer was about to do something dramatic.

“In order to make it up to you, I’m offering you a favour.” He said, and Charlie’s eyes widening told Vox everything he needed to know. This was the real deal. Lucifer certainly looked serious.

“Anything you like, and I’ll do it. One thing.” He held up a single finger. “Don’t make me regret it. No sinner has ever earned this kind of thing before.”

Beside Vox, Alastor grinned sharply. It seemed he’d gotten what he’d wanted when he provoked Lucifer. Vox’s smile was even sharper. Alastor wouldn’t have seen this one coming.

“I know what I want, your majesty, and I only hope it’s possible.”

Lucifer laughed. “Possible? I offered anything and I meant it! Go on, what do you want?”

“I want you to break Alastor’s contract and give him full ownership of his soul.”

The silence that followed couldn’t be more different from Lucifer’s dramatic pause. For one, it was punctuated by the piercing shriek of radio static that accompanied Alastor’s shock. The hotel residents were stunned, the quiet so permeating that it was as if the building itself was surprised. Vox held firm. He knew what he wanted and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Alastor had given the only fragment of his soul that he still owned in order to save his life, so he’d be double damned before he allowed the person he loved to spend the rest of eternity suffering due to that sacrifice.

Lucifer blinked, and opened his mouth to speak, but Alastor beat him to it.

“How do you know about that? I never told you.” He said quietly, microphone clutched so tightly in his fist that his claws were digging in slightly. Vox smiled softly.

“Figured it out on my own.”

During their exchange Lucifer seemed to have recovered from his surprise, and he waved slightly to get their attention.

“Hey, uh, so… are you sure? I offer you anything you want, all of Hell on a platter, and you ask for something for him?” He pointed at Alastor incredulously. Vox shrugged, smile dropping slightly.

“If you can’t do it you can just say that, and I’ll try to think of something else.” He said casually, and Lucifer bristled.

“Oh I can do it alright! I just… oh forget it.” He muttered, closing his eyes and doing a complicated gesture with his hands that moved too quickly for even Vox to follow. When he stopped he opened one eye and squinted at Vox.

“You’re sure this is what you want?”

When Vox nodded, he shrugged and snapped his fingers. There was a flash of gold light that faded to green, revealing a rolled up piece of paper, slightly yellowed with age.

Alastor suddenly whirled around and grabbed Vox by the shoulders.

“Picture box you don’t have to do this. You could use this favour for yourself, make sure you never have any health issues ever again, never struggle or fail. Don’t waste this on me.” He sounded almost frantic, but Vox could sense the restrained hope behind the words.

He smiled, gently taking hold of Alastor’s wrists and guiding his hands down until he was holding them securely.

“I’m not wasting it. Alastor, you gave a piece of your soul for me. Let me give the rest back to you.” He glanced between Alastor and Lucifer, who was now holding the scroll. Alastor nodded mutely, standing aside but keeping hold of one of Vox’s hands. Vox nodded to Lucifer.

“I’m sure. Break it.”

Lucifer’s horns erupted from his forehead and his eyes became solid red, his wings appearing behind him and flaring dramatically. One moment the scroll was resting on Lucifer’s palm, deceptively innocent, and the next it was engulfed with golden flames. Alastor tensed, as if bracing for an impact, but no impact came, and when the flames dispersed there was not even ash remaining of the contract. Alastor inhaled sharply, then smiled brightly, the most genuine smile he’d ever shown in front of people besides Vox.

“I’m free.” He whispered. “I’d almost forgotten what that felt like.” Then he stiffened, returning to his public mask.

“Thank you.” He said curtly towards Lucifer, then softened as he turned to Vox. “Thank you.”

Never had two instances of the same phrase sounded so opposite. Vox felt the warmth in his chest grow at the affection in Alastor’s voice. Then his brows furrowed.

“I still have the piece you gave me.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow, then turned to Lucifer expectantly. Lucifer stared back, seeming confused but unbothered.

“Well yeah, that part was never attached to the contract. It’s not going anywhere.” He said, as though it was obvious. Vox frowned, then took a step forward.

“If Alastor doesn’t have his whole soul, then can you give him a piece of mine?”

Lucifer huffed. “That wasn’t the deal. I offered one favour, I’ve done my part.” He crossed his arms in front of him. Charlie stepped in a put a hand on her father’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. His eyes widened slightly and he grimaced.

“Alright fine! But it doesn’t work like that. I can’t just reach in to anyone and yank a chunk out, that would be disgusting and would probably kill you. But, I can seperate a piece out for you to give away.” He said, striding forward and putting his hands on either side of Vox’s head. Vark growled softly before Vox put a hand on his head to placate him.

“This won’t hurt a bit, yada yada.” He muttered, then Vox felt Lucifer’s hands heat up. The sensation that followed was one of the strangest feelings he’d ever experienced. For one, his physical systems immediately began freaking out and running interference, but they couldn’t fight something that didn’t exist on a physical level. His head spun, and for a moment he felt like he might pass out, but then he felt a hand grab his, and the part of Alastor’s soul he held in his chest seemed to envelop him in warmth, grounding him through the feeling of a part of his own soul splitting away from the rest.

Lucifer pulled his hands away and brushed them together, entirely too casual for the feats he just performed. Vox leaned slightly on Alastor, but was pleased to realise that whatever Lucifer had done hadn’t hurt and hadn’t done him any physical harm. Lucifer pointed at them.

“You two are possibly the strangest pair of sinners I’ve ever encountered, and I don’t know if I like it or not, but I respect it. It takes guts to find love in a place like this.” He said, and before Alastor or Vox had the chance to respond to that particular comment, he clapped his hands and turned to face Charlie.

“So, it seems my work here is done! Please call me if the hotel gets attacked again, even though I know you can handle yourself, I’d just appreciate -oof!” He was cut off by the force of Charlie embracing him, but quickly relaxed into it.

“Thank you, dad.” She whispered, pulling back to smile sweetly at him. Lucifer only smiled, and Vox thought he spotted tears gathering in his eyes, but he couldn’t be certain because the next moment Lucifer was gone, vanishing in a flash of golden light.

Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to think. How to process the last half an hour? Vox has surprised him once again, using a favour from Lucifer to nullify his contract and return him ownership of his soul. The most fascinating part was that he’d retained almost all the power the contract had gifted him. The only ability he found he could no longer access was the summoning of his living shadow, which seemed to have remained with Vox. He found he didn’t mind.

After Lucifer had vanished, -and really did he have to do that every time? They had a perfectly good front door- Alastor had pulled Charlie aside. Something had been bugging him, and one of the few things he truly had in common with Vox was a compulsive need to know what was going on. However unlike Vox, who had been pulled away by Husk, Alastor knew how to wait for the right time to ask in order to get information.

“What did you tell your father that convinced him to split Vox’s soul?” He said, studying Charlie as she smiled almost too sweetly. She shrugged innocently.

“Oh, I just pointed out that if Vox gave a piece of his soul to you that in order for him to go to Heaven you’d both have to be redeemed, and we both know that isn’t going to happen. Dad knows Vox is more valuable down here, so I knew he’d want to keep him around.” She said casually, and Alastor was silently impressed. His grin widened, it seemed the young princess had learned something from him. It was a useful skill to be able to get what you want by using someone’s else’s interests for your own gain. A well crafted manipulation.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises, dear Charlie. That sounds like something I would do.”

She blushed, but he wasn’t sure if it was from pride or embarrassment. She ducked her head and he had to strain to hear her next words, if he hadn’t turned his ears in her direction he might have missed them.

“I know Vox doesn’t want to go, so I made sure he wouldn’t.”

Alastor’s grin softened. For all her overly bubbly optimism and slightly annoying exercises, Charlie really did care, that much was clear. Genuine thought had gone into her actions this time, and for the first time since the opening of the hotel, Alastor was certain that she had really, meaningfully helped someone. Charlie had made a real difference for someone, and Alastor was honestly glad it Vox. Goodness knows he’d needed it, and as much as Alastor was angry at himself for not being there for Vox, he was grateful someone had been.

“Thank you.” He said softly, and Charlie brightened up instantly. “It means a lot that you’d give up a redemption.”

Charlie grinned. “That’s the best part. The hotel was never about redemption. It was about helping my people, no matter what that looked like. Redemption was just a way to avoid exterminations, and Vox was never here for that. A bit like you actually!” She said brightly, and Alastor stared.

“Me?” He laughed, incredulous at the idea that the hotel had been helping him in any way. Charlie grinned, almost mischievously.

“What, you thought I didn’t know what was going on? You think all those times I left you and Vox alone was a coincidence?” She giggled. Giggled, like the joke was on him. Then she stopped.

“Wait, you actually didn’t realise? I’ve been trying to get you two to talk since the moment he got here. You’re really not as subtle as you think you are.” She said, and Alastor wasn’t sure how to take that. Maybe Charlie was more perceptive than he had been giving her credit for. She’d seen right through them.

“No,” He said slowly. “Perhaps we aren’t. Though, perhaps subtle is for those who are afraid. I’m not afraid.”

Charlie smiled approvingly.

“Good.”

Of all the things Vox was expecting Husk to do when he pulled him aside from the main group, hug him was not even remotely close to the top of the list.

“Wha- what are you doing?” He whispered, making Husk’s ear flick. The feline pulled back, one claw coming up to scrub at his eye. He laughed gruffly.

“Shit, kid, am I that out of practice?”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

Husk chuckled. “I know. Look, I want to thank you. I know it was only because of you that Alastor let me go, and it means a lot.” He shifted awkwardly. Vox shrugged.

“Well, I promised, didn’t I? Kinda shitty if my whole tagline is trust and I can’t be trusted.” He tried for lighthearted, but it came out a little strained as a result of Husk’s genuine gratitude. So he still wasn’t amazing at feelings, sue him. Husk didn’t seem to mind, still smiling.

“Whatever you say kid. You didn’t have to do that, and you did it anyway. So thank you. I can actually start over now.”

Vox nodded. “Invite me to your grand opening, okay?”

Husk clapped him on the shoulder, laughing. “You bet.”

Vox grinned as Husk was pulled back towards the bar by Angel Dust, the two of them laughing as they went, but when he turned around he couldn’t see Alastor anywhere. However, he did see Charlie, smiling knowingly and pointing upwards. Confused, he glanced up, only to sense Alastor’s frequency humming somewhere above them. He glanced back at Charlie, and she mouthed a single word, accompanied by a double thumbs up.

‘Roof.’

Vox mouthed back a thanks, before vanishing into the camera blinking idly in the corner of the room. Getting to the roof was easy, he had cameras viewing every inch, if anything he had options of where to appear. He landed on the rooftop lightly behind Alastor, soft enough to barely make a sound, but loudly enough to not startle him, and if the flick of Alastor’s ear was anything to go by, he’d judged it well.

Alastor was leaning against the concrete edge of the rooftop in a way that would look casual to anyone else, but not to Vox. Alastor was rarely casual. Vox took a step forward.

“I know you’re there.”

“I know.” Vox came up beside Alastor, mirroring his position by resting his forearms on the edge of the barrier. “Kinda hard not to when we sense each other all the fucking time.” He nudged Alastor gently.

Alastor huffed, but Vox heard the laugh buried in it. They stood in silence for a moment, the kind of comfortable silence that came with decades of friendship. The simple act of existing in the same space with no further expectations, no need for words, no underlying tension.

Well, only a little.

“So, I believe you had something you wanted to give me?” Alastor turned slightly to face Vox, one eyebrow raised, amusement evident in his voice. Vox’s screen flushed with static, but his voice was steady.

“We’re a pair, opposite but the same. You gave me a piece of you and I want to return the favour.” He reached over to place a hand over Alastor’s.

“You were always ahead of me, which made sense, you had a pretty significant head start. Then for a while there I was ahead of you. We don’t have to be that way. We can be equals.”

Alastor smiled softly. “I admit I do rather like the sound of that. For the record I have considered you my equal for quite some time. You were -are- something special.”

They had gradually moved closer as they spoke, and now were pressed against one another, Vox’s hand laid gently over Alastor’s and their faces inches away. Vox’s screen was still staticky with blush from Alastor’s words. Alastor’s gaze was almost ridiculously fond, his eyes shining with what Vox could only describe as love, before they fluttered closed. Vox’s breath hitched, his vents stuttering, and he closed his own eyes, becoming aware of the small shard of his soul that was not seperate from the rest. Where before it had been almost imperceptible, now he could feel it, as if it was excited to get to Alastor.

It was a reflection of him, after all.

Alastor’s forehead met his screen first, and for a moment they stayed there, heads resting against one another and hands entwined. Then Alastor slowly lifted his head, his nose gently brushing Vox’s screen. Vox inhaled shallowly, wrapped an arm around Alastor’s waist, and closed the distance.

Every camera on the rooftop exploded simultaneously. Sparks flew, lighting up the roof and casting a hundred shadows, the silhouette of two figures so closely entwined that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Vox’s soul felt like it was on fire. The warmth burned through him, sending sparks jumping over his skin as the excess energy searched for a release. The shard of soul that had been severed was practically singing, the high ringing frequency that of an ultrasonic voltage, flowing like water through a freshly broken dam. The piece of Alastor’s soul he held seemed to sing a reply, a slightly lower pitched call, a fond goodbye. Vox felt it leave him, ecstasy in its wake, and he felt a little warmer than before. He felt Alastor shiver and knew that his gift had been received.

They broke apart, both breathing heavily but smiling nonetheless. Alastor put a hand to his chest.

“It feels cool, like water. It’s… soothing.”

Vox grinned. “Yours is warm. It’s like a little fireplace. Feels like you.”

Alastor laughed softly. “I can’t imagine what else it would feel like. Though, yours feels like you, too. I can’t really explain it any other way.”

“I told you so. There’s no other way to explain it. It just is.”

“Hm.”

Vox held back a laugh at Alastor’s slightly miffed expression. He took Alastor’s hands in his, unable to ignore how similar even their hands looked to one another. Like they were made to be together.

“I guess we really are soulmates.” He joked. “We’re equal, and nothing can seperate us now.” Vox said fondly. “How do you feel, by the way? I mean, with having a whole soul again.”

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, then his smile widened, sharp at the edges.

“Free.” He said simply, and though his tone was casual there was weight behind the word, as if it was more than an answer, as if it was a vow. Alastor traced gentle circles over the back of Vox’s hands.

“Vox, we’ve been friends for a long time now.” He said quietly, smiling coyly.

Vox tilted his head curiously. What was he playing at now?

“Yeah, we have.”

“You loved me when no one else would dare to get close. I owe a lot to you.”

The memory hit Vox so suddenly he may as well have been thrown back in time. The night Alastor left, almost eight years ago, he’d said something so similar it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Our friendship means a lot to me.” He said slowly, and was met with a bright, slightly mischievous, smile and a feeling of warmth in his chest. “You mean a lot to me.”

It was all too easy to remember what he’d said. He’d replayed the memory of that night over and over while Alastor had been away, always feeling an awful mixture of longing and regret. There was no sign of those emotions now. Now when he thought back to that night there was only a sense of profound affection, and if anything a little nostalgia. That is to say, he knew which words came next. But it was one thing to know something, and another thing entirely to hear it. Vox didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing it.

“I love you.” Alastor said, without the slightest hint of uncertainty. “I love you, Vox, and nothing will ever change that. You reminded me I have a heart.”

Vox beamed, screen bright and sparks jumping. Without even pausing to think, he threw his arms around Alastor and pulled him close, both of them melting into the embrace. With their bodies pressed against one another, their fragments of exchanged souls began to sing once more, the sound a harmonious mix of the hum of electricity and the high ring of radio waves.

“I love you too. I always will. You showed me that life was worth living.”