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Heaven never tells you it’s genocide.
At least, Vaggie felt fairly certain she hadn’t been told. She couldn’t remember much before she had pledged herself to Adam’s army. Becoming an Exorcist required a sense of total sacrifice that didn’t leave room for memories of her earlier existence in Heaven, nor her time on Earth.
Nor even her real name.
As her memory dwindled - like a dream one couldn’t quite recall - Adam had renamed her. Whatever her life had been before was irrelevant. She was Vaggie, she was a neophyte Exorcist charged with the protection of Heaven, and that was enough.
Most of the Exterminations had been exhilarating. She felt all the rage of Heaven by her side as they thundered down onto Hell, destroying the beings that would endanger the paradise of the saved. She had only known power and self-righteousness, finally being able to enact the violence she had been taught, teamwork with the other Exorcists forming an impenetrable wall by which they carried out their purification.
She climbed the ranks, destroying evil souls with power and cunning and finesse, her soul vibrating every moment with intoxicating justice.
And then there was the child.
She stumbled down the dark alleyway, bleeding out all the gold and faith she had within her.
He had been terrified, shaking and sobbing in the face of her glinting ethereal weapon. Even after all these years, she had never exorcised a child before. Children did not go to hell - or so she thought. What crime could this child have committed?
For a moment, she wondered why Lute hadn’t killed her - why the lieutenant had merely weakened her, robbed her of her eye and her halo instead of her life. But Vaggie quickly realized her answer. She was in Hell, left to the wolves of true evil, the dwelling of Lucifer himself and all his sworn disciples.
“Are you okay?” a voice said.
Vaggie glanced up with her remaining eye, taking in the oddly friendly sound of the woman in front of her. The blonde knelt down, crooning worriedly, “Let me get you bandaged up.”
Vaggie’s brow furrowed, blushing slightly at the gentle touch, bewildered at what she was seeing. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Oh,” the woman said softly, looking at Vaggie with new concern, “Are you a new arrival?”
Technically, Vaggie thought. “Yeah.”
The woman smiled. “My name is Charlie.”
Charlie.
That Charlie.
Vaggie stumbled down the street on Charlie’s arm, mulling over her predicament. Daughter of Lucifer and Lillith, a full and powerful demon, literal Princess of Hell. That Charlie was the one who came to her rescue in her first hour as a fallen angel. It was that Charlie that led her back to a cozy loft for the evening.
She couldn’t make sense of Charlie’s kindness, why she offered Vaggie her bed for the night as she took the couch. What’s her deal?, Vaggie thought, wondering why the heir to the underworld would be kind to a new and powerless stranger. “We’ll get you sorted tomorrow,” Charlie said as she turned out the lights.
Vaggie had wanted to try to stay up - to make sure she wasn’t attacked again. But the exhaustion of the day won out, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.
Charlie found her a job in the brimstone fields.
Brimstone. It was a romanticized terrifying punishment of Hell, to burn in fire and brimstone for all eternity. It’s sulfur, Vaggie learned on her unfortunate first day of work, I smell like fucking rotten eggs.
She showered for an hour in Charlie’s place - she’d need more time to find housing of her own - but at least she could afford her first full meal in Hell, treating Charlie for the occasion as a thank-you for the help so far.
As it turned out, damnation had a terrible menu, but she found herself not minding it when she kept seeing Charlie’s optimism. “I want to turn this place around,” Charlie said, “Make it somewhere… better. I think people can be better. Just because you did bad things in the past doesn’t mean you have to keep doing them, right?”
The princess of Hell, championing redemption?, Vaggie thought, feeling incredulity and guilt. “Right,” she muttered, getting a warm smile from Charlie.
Hell was strange.
Vaggie would’ve assumed that Charlie would’ve been feared as the princess of her own domain - but Vaggie found instead that she was mocked and teased ruthlessly by those who seemed to know her. Does she not know she’s being mocked?, Vaggie wondered, or does she just not know any other life?
There was something admirable in the way that Charlie trucked forward, her optimism like a shining light in a world that was so dark and hopeless.
In the evenings at Charlie’s place, the cracks would start to show. Her unwavering hope and sturdy smile gave way to exhaustion and quiet. By then, they had started sharing the bed. Vaggie had reached out into the dark, touching Charlie lightly on the shoulder, welcoming her - and Charlie found herself curling up into Vaggie’s warm embrace.
They didn’t speak of it in the morning.
It was Vaggie who suggested they go to the bar.
Charlie - optimistic Charlie - woke one morning with screaming nightmares about extermination, causing a sinking guilt in Vaggie’s gut. Charlie wondered aloud again if it were possible to redeem those in Hell, if punishment truly needed to be eternal. Vaggie decided they needed to get shitfaced instead.
Four drinks and one barfight later, the two stumbled out onto the streets, laughing and shouting as they wandered back to Charlie’s loft. Charlie even let a f-bomb drop out of her lips - a relative rarity, compared to everyone else in Hell - and Vaggie laughed as she stumbled inside Charlie’s door.
“Shut up!” Charlie shouted, trying to reprimand Vaggie while failing to suppress her giggles.
“Shut me up yourself!” Vaggie challenged.
She didn’t expect to feel Charlie’s hands at her collar, suddenly tugging her close. Nor did she expect Charlie’s lips to crash firmly on her own. Things quickly went blurry as Vaggie found herself picking Charlie up, legs wrapped around her waist, dumping the blonde on the bed and tumbling down after her.
It was almost overwhelming as Vaggie pushed Charlie down into the bed, swallowing her mewls with another kiss. Somewhere in Vaggie’s mind, she was dimly aware that this behavior wasn’t sanctioned - not in her life on Earth, not in her time in Heaven.
She wasn’t allowed to chase these cries, to feel this way with her body - but none of that mattered as Charlie pulled her shirt over her head. Her skin was soft, and her lips were sweet, and Vaggie nearly came just from the teasing fingers on her breasts.
Heaven be damned, this was no sin.
When Vaggie woke the next morning, Charlie was already gone.
Sighing, Vaggie rose, dressing for work and trying to ward off her hangover and her nerves. She tried to concentrate on her workday, shuffling sulfur and monitoring density levels while failing to ignore the way her gut twisted with anxiety. Maybe Charlie will want me gone after this, Vaggie worried.
The loft was still empty when she got home - and that’s what Charlie’s loft was now, a home that she had somehow fallen into, though she didn’t expect to stay much longer - and she popped into the shower, sloughing off as much of the stench of the fields as she could.
When she exited the bathroom, she spotted Charlie again, feeling her heartbeat pick up in her chest. Charlie had her back turned to Vaggie, looking out of the window onto the fires of Hell.
Vaggie sighed, walking up to stand by Charlie’s side, silently waiting for Charlie to take the lead.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Charlie confessed. “I know it’s… quaint.”
Vaggie’s eye widened as she turned to Charlie. “I’ve done some really bad things, Charlie,” Vaggie said.
Charlie turned, watching Vaggie closely. “Everyone down here has, Vaggie. Don’t we all deserve a second chance?”
You’ve never needed a second chance, Vaggie thought, not really sure if Charlie had ever even known what “sin” really was. It didn’t seem in her nature - maybe it wouldn’t be, if Lucifer’s angelic genes shined through - and perhaps Charlie thought her sin was merely original, a fact of her birth and who she was rather than anything she did.
That was when Vaggie made the resolution for herself. There was a redemption that Charlie believed in - that Vaggie couldn’t see, didn’t think she could ever deserve - but Charlie believed in it, and that was enough. Vaggie swore that she’d pursue it whatever the cost. “I love you too,” Vaggie confessed, and it was worth it just to see Charlie smile.
Hellfire glowed beautifully after sunset.
“I’m starting a hotel!” Charlie said triumphantly.
“A hotel… for what?” Vaggie asked skeptically.
“For redeeming sinners,” Charlie said excitedly, pulling out all manner of charts and designs. “We’ll renovate that old hotel on the Pride Ring, set it up as a place where people can support each other into becoming better!”
“Better?”
“And then we’ll be able to show Heaven that people really can change!”
Vaggie fought the urge to flinch. Heaven could never see that, she lamented, thinking of Adam and Lute and the others who saw Hell as the cockroaches who threatened the true souls above.
But Charlie’s optimism was infectious, and Vaggie put away her doubts. If anyone can do it, she thought, it’s Charlie.
Well, their first customer tried to betray them. Vaggie felt like Charlie’s attempts to try to draw people into the light was more akin to pulling teeth than seeking any real redemption. But Vaggie felt obligated to try - to support Charlie’s dream, whatever the cost.
And admittedly, it brought her some twisted comfort to see Charlie forgive a betrayal.
Vaggie helped in the only way she knew how - showing those fuckers what battle was like, putting them in a situation where their interests of survival were aligned. Shockingly, it seemed to actually work , forming brothers-in-arms where there were only sinners before. It’s a start, Vaggie thought proudly.
But slowly things unraveled, as Charlie unwittingly dragged Vaggie into Heaven, and soon Vaggie was faced with Adam again. “To think someone as worthless as you landed Lillith’s little hottie,” Adam laughed, “I wonder what your bitch would think if she found out you were one of us.”
He asked for her allegiance - for her betrayal. To leave Charlie flying solo, to undermine everything she had spent years fighting for and building.
Vaggie refused. She’s worth it, Vaggie thought, she’s worth losing everything.
That didn’t make it any easier to step into the courtroom. Horrors grew as the order of Heaven - or lack thereof - became clear. There was no known criteria for what souls entered, and the Exterminations were not broadly known. Vaggie’s heart pounded with both fear and pride as Charlie made her case, joined by Emily.
But Adam took his chance, as Vaggie knew he would. She barely had time to process what had happened when they were cast out of Heaven.
Three years, Vaggie thought, feeling torn at betrayal that flashed in Charlie’s eyes, I’ve destroyed three years of our lives.
Shame burned over as she explained to the other hotel residents what she had done.
She didn’t know what else to do - Charlie was sobbing and angry, locking Vaggie out of the room as soon as she got home. Is it too much to believe in second chances?, Vaggie wondered. She was at once comforted and disconcerted by how nonchalant the residents seemed about there being an angel in their midst, swerving back to tit jokes and musings about their doomed futures rather than directing any bile at her.
The modicum of relief would be shortlived, as Charlie made a fucking stupid deal with Alastor. The whiplash followed soon after, as Charlie revealed that angels could be killed - Carmilla Carmine had done so herself. “I didn’t even know that was possible,” Vaggie said.
“If you did, would you have told me?” Charlie sniped.
“Charlie…”
I still believe in Charlie’s dream.
Those had been her parting words to the skeptical and scared hotel residents. Not that she blamed them. She doubted they’d be there when she returned.
She had one mission now. Find Carmilla Carmine, and figure out how to kill the angels. It was bitterly win-win - either she’d be able to earn Charlie’s trust back, or she’d likely die in the ensuing battle. It was better than living with this guilt. All Charlie has ever done is try to make things better.
She was shocked to find that the answer was already in her hands. “Angelic weapons?” Vaggie said disbelievingly to Carmilla, “It’s that simple?”
But that wasn’t the entire answer. “You’re out for blood,” Carmilla belted, “Think about who you care about.”
She could see Charlie in the distance.
Shame burrowed deep in Vaggie’s chest as they both approached the gate to the hotel. At least I got the weapons, Vaggie thought, at least there’s a chance to survive this. If there was any way to live through the coming days, Vaggie prayed she’d be able to find Charlie’s forgiveness.
Charlie halted in front of her.
“Charlie…”
“Hold that thought,” Charlie said, smiling wide as she dug into her pocket, “I got you a souvenir from Cannibal Town.”
Vaggie’s eye watered - she could recognize an olive branch when she saw one. “Oh, Charlie…” she murmured, as the two embraced. Charlie noted Vaggie’s new wings, small gestures that filled Vaggie with warmth.
It hadn’t been the only surprise of the day, as the two found a bustling workforce inside the hotel, fortifying every wall and window. “What?” Sir Pentious slithered, “Did you think we’re a bunch of pusssssies?”
Celebration rang through the hotel. Not of a victory tomorrow, but of there being something worth fighting for. There was never certainty - not on Earth, and not in Hell. But if Charlie had taught them anything, it was that existence was best practiced with optimism and conviction.
Not that Charlie never faltered. “What if we lose?” she whispered.
“You’ve already done so much,” Vaggie murmured, “So many lives you’ve changed.”
Charlie sniffled as Vaggie took her hand. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Vaggie pressed her lips to Charlie’s, and felt the hint of a smile. Whatever happens tomorrow, she thought, at least we have tonight.