Work Text:
It had never really been the needles that bothered him about tattoos. It was just easier to explain to his best friend that the reason he almost vomited when he watched him getting his first tattoo was because of the needles. Truth was it was the sound the gun made when it touched Bel’s skin that caused him to vividly recall the file of a soul he had been assigned. That soul had used tattoos to hurt people in ways that even Greg didn’t think were possible for such a small device. As the one assigned to punish that soul, Greg was privy to the in-depth details of that his file including the vile things he had felt when he was tattooing/torturing his victims. When Bel had asked if wanted to come along, he’d been curious if demonic tattooing was the same as what he had seen in the file. He had not expected to snap back to the images of the file or the reaction it had on his body. He also didn’t expect the many nights of nightmares that followed that stupid trip to the tattoo shop.
He had asked his old mentor on level nine about it. Asked if that was something that had ever happened to him and was surprised to find out it was more common than he thought. That there were plenty of employees from every punishment level that would have similar experiences and some even developed PTSD like symptoms. At the time though, Greg had thought that PTSD only affected the demons in the military or the mortal souls on the therapy levels. He was just an employee on level nine, he delt out punishment. What could traumatize him? So, when Bel and then Azzy teased him relentlessly for months about his phobia of needles, he had let them.
How could he explain to them, two soldiers who had experienced so much more trauma and stress than he could imagine, that the sound of the tattoo gun had triggered a flashback to a memory that wasn’t even his? It would take him damn near a century of being the Master of Level Nine to figure out that the body and brain didn’t give a damn if it was firsthand trauma or second-hand trauma, the result was the same. So many countless nightmares and randomly triggered flashbacks taught him that what he saw and felt when reviewing the files affected him more than he thought. Still, he never told Bel or Azzy, figuring that they had enough monsters of their own to deal with, and just let them believe it was the needles.
It was easier and allowed him to avoid the whole situation from ever happening again. By not admitting up loud what had triggered the flashback, he would never have to face it. He could pretend that the memory of that soul file still didn’t haunt him, or at least, he could until now. Because now it mattered.
They hadn’t even known that Penny was pregnant. In retrospect, there had been signs, but they were minor and overlooked. That moment in the healer’s office, when the very kind, motherly lady held his wife’s hands in her own and softly confirmed what Penny had feared, he had felt himself break inside. Watching the tears spring to her eyes as she swallowed back the scream, he knew she wanted to unleash had ripped him to pieces. He had wanted to fall apart, let himself be shattered, but there was Penny, thanking the healer for her time, for her kindness…. His beautiful, amazing, and compassionate wife falling apart inside but refusing to be anything less than kind. He had wanted to be angry. He had wanted to use every single skill he had learned on level nine to ripe the universe apart. Instead, he had spent the night holding Penny as she cried, rocking her as she finally allowed herself to come apart and let out the scream from the office.
He had spent the following days grieving in a strange and disconnected way not understanding how he could feel such loss when they hadn’t even known. They had moved through the pain and shock of it though. With help from family, friends, therapy, and an unshakable trust in each other, they found their way. The rage at the unfairness of it, the pain of the loss, had settled into the gentle ache of grief. Somedays it was sharper than others, but it was barrable. The wound was still there, however.
It had been in couple’s therapy during their healing process where Penny had admitted that it felt like her body had a scar or some kind of mark that she would have to always carry with her. She knew that there was nothing visible, but she felt like she could see it in the mirror sometimes and then she would remember the loss all over again. It had made her feel so isolated. For Greg, that was too much of an injustice. If Penny had to bear the scar of the loss, he could at least do something, so she didn’t feel so alone. Which was what had led him here, at his piercer’s shop, oh so early in the morning.
“Hey Greg,” Emith said as she moved around the small shop, setting things up for their appointment. “I’m almost ready for you. How ya feeling? Any nerves?”
Greg shrugged, watching the green skinned demon as she worked. Emith had started on level nine the same time he did and had worked with him for several decades. In those days she had still been doing pricings, but only every now and then. She had resigned from level nine, however, when she had her first daughter for several reasons and gone into body modification full time. She had done all of Greg’s pricings, and so when he decided to get his first tattoo, she was the one he asked. It also helped that he felt more comfortable explaining what his phobia was to her and the why, mostly because he knew she would understand. The two of them had figured out a solution to the sound of the needle gun and even tested it a couple of times to make sure. He felt as ready as he ever could but there was still a slight hesitation. “Yes and no… not sure if I would call it nerves. It’s more like I just want to get it over with,” he answered, “I brought you coffee by the way.”
She flashed him a smile as she finished setting up, “you’re a gem.” Walking over to her, he handed her the precious liquid and leaned against the wall taking a sip from his own. Emith sighed happily as she took her first sip, then looked up at her long-time client and close friend. “Did you tell Penny what you were doing?”
“She has a little bit of an idea. She knows I’m here to see you and has a small idea of why. It wasn’t exactly something I felt comfortable straight up surprising her with,” he answered.
“Smart man,” she laughed, “so…. Do you have the design?”
“Mmmhmmm,” Greg mumbled as he took a swig of coffee. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his sketchbook and managed to flip to the page while still maintaining control of his coffee. Pottery may be his preferred medium of art, but sketching had been his first and if he was going to finally get a tattoo it would be one of his own design.
Emith took the sketch book from him, a smile appearing on her face. “She’s going to love it…” she said, eyes scanning over the drawing, “and you want to maintain the sketch look, right?”
“That’s the plan. It’s doable, right?” he asked, suddenly feeling a little unsure.
Emith laughed, shaking her head as she carefully freed the page from the book, “absolutely. Now, get your shirt off and hop up on the table, I’m going to go make a stencil.”
“Ya know….” Greg grumbled as he followed her instructions, “usually I only let my wife give me those orders.”
“The last time you were here to get work done, I was telling you to take your pants off,” Emith called back to him from where she worked.
Can’t argue with that, he thought as he settled on the bench that had been prepared for him. He had the earbuds in hand and the music playlist cued up on his phone, ready to go by the time Emith returned.
“You’re still sure about the placement… right? For your first tattoo, the rib cage is a… daring… choice,” she asked him, giving him one last opportunity to reconsider.
“I know and I’m sure,” he replied.
“Whelp,” Emith said as she laid the stencil on him, “I always knew you were a freak…” Greg laughed as she peeled away the transfer paper. “Okay, look at in the mirror and tell me what you think.”
Greg hopped down from the bench and dutifully made his way over to the mirror in the room so that he could examine the placement. He had thought about where he wanted the tattoo for a bit before deciding on his left side, right under his heart. To him, given the subject matter of the piece and the meaning behind it, it made the most sense. Seeing it now on his skin, he knew it was correct choice. “I like it… it’s good,” he affirmed, coming back over to the bench and getting resettled.
“Alrighty then, let’s get this torture session on the road for you” Emith teased before growing serious, “and just remember, if the sound or the sensation, or absolutely any part of it gets to be too much and you need a break or you want to stop we can. Don’t push yourself, you don’t have to prove how tough you are to me.”
Greg gave her a grateful smile as he put his earbuds in and before pressing play on his music he said, “thanks.”
-line-
“Greggels! Where the fuck have you been?” Azzy demanded as he burst into Greg’s office with an amused Bel not far behind. “I was here, on time I might add, to pick up my allotted souls and harass you but your employees said that you were unavailable? I demand answers.”
Greg, who was reading over a report, looked up, making eye contact with Bel and asked, “did you give him coffee?”
Bel held his hands up in a placating gesture, and shook his head, clearly amused, “not me.”
“Hey!” Azzy called, “Do not ignore me! Answer the question! Where were you! I know it wasn’t with Penny, because I went by the Hellp Desk and she was working and when you’re not with Penny, you’re almost always here unless you’re hanging out with us…”
“Azzy, breathe,” Bel instructed, laughing. He flopped down onto the couch that Greg had won from him, stretching out his wings as he looked over to his best friend. “But seriously, where were you this morning? You’re always here when the souls are being transferred, everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” Greg reassured, “I just had an appointment with Emith.” He almost laughed at the face Azzy made at the mention of Emith. The younger demon was still grossed out by his piercings, a fact that amused Greg to no end.
“What did you get pierced this time?” Bel asked, his tone amused as he too noticed Azzy’s discomfort.
“That is for me to know and Penny to find out,” Greg answered.
Azzy made a gagging sound and sort of shook himself, “I don’t get it… I just… how?”
“What’s the matter Azzy? I thought you weren’t afraid of needles,” Greg taunted.
“Says the jerk who dry heaved when he saw a tattoo gun…” Asmodeus growled.
Greg shrugged, a small smile on his face, unconsciously running his hand down his left side. “What can I do for you Generals?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Or is this more of a royal pain in the ass situation?” Bel’s laugh nearly drowned out Azzy’s indignant “Hey!”
“We’re here,” Bel said before his cousin could speak, “to see if you want lunch and to hear about the piping hot tea from the legion meeting this morning.”
“Lunch would be a good distraction,” Greg answered looking down at the report with a grimace.
“Awesome cause Sariah’s parents have a special today that her dad’s been working on for months and I wanna try,” Azzy said, almost bouncing with excitement. “But first, can I use your bathroom?”
“Go for it,” Greg said as he stood up and stretched. There was a slight pull on his left side where the skin was still tight, and he again ran his hand down his rib cage to sooth it. Emith had healed him as she worked, but she had warned him that it would still take a day for the skin to feel normal again. He didn’t mind, the final piece had been worth any discomfort or irritation.
“What did you do to your side?” Bel asked, tone casual but Greg could hear the slight tinge of concern. He wasn’t surprised that his friend had noticed something, he just wondered what his tell was.
“What makes you think anything is wrong?” Greg asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ve run your hand over your ribs twice since we’ve been here and your left side seems stiff,” Bel answered, “What did you do?”
Greg smiled, unwilling to give anything away. “It’s fine,” he assured the other, but the look Bel gave him said that he wasn’t buying it. “I promise to explain, but Penny gets to see first,” Greg tried again. He watched the gears in Bel’s head turn as the other processed the words and saw the moment the pieces of information started to click into the place.
“Emith does more than piercings, doesn’t she?” The question was more of a statement, almost an accusation and it made Greg laugh. He admitted nothing more to Bel as Asmodeus exited the bathroom.
-line-
“But it’s not fair!” the grating voice of the soul whined, making Greg’s eye twitch as he walked up towards the help desk with Bel.
Lunch had turned into an impromptu hang out session for the pair, with Bel mostly pestering Greg about what work Emith did while he finished up some paperwork. Greg, of course, told him nothing, which annoyed his friend to no end. Eventually, Bel had given up his persisting demands for answers in leu of other topics and the afternoon had passed rather pleasantly. It would appear that the Hellp Desk had also had a fairly pleasant day given how long the lines were not and how relaxed they all seemed. Lily was reading while Sharkie, Ruggy, and Judy were all playing cards, and Penny was dealing with the lone soul that had come up to the desk.
“Yes, actually it is,” Penny responded patiently, “the Universe is an incredibly fair judge.”
“You haven’t even looked at my file!” the soul continued, growing even more irate.
“You’re right and I’m not going to. Based on the conversation we’ve already had, and the level I see printed on the cover, I don’t feel it’s necessary,” she answered, still as unbothered as if she were talking about the weather. Greg always admired how she could remain so calm and kind in the face of such awfulness; it was one of many things he loved about her.
“How can you judge me then?!” the soul shouted.
“I’m not. The Universe did.”
“You’re a stupid cu—” the insult died on soul’s lips as Greg came to stand next to Penny, their arrogant anger replaced by pure terror.
“You’re not even trying to be intimidating…” Bel laughed, shaking his head as he made his way to Lily.
Penny, without missing a beat, said, “If you still want to speak to someone in a position of authority, may I present the Master of Level Nine.”
The soul attempted to speak, their mouth opening and closing frantically as they looked from Greg to Penny, back to Greg. Without another word, the soul turned tail and ran from the desk chased by several snickers.
“Was it something I said?” Greg asked dryly, which turned the snickers into full on laughter.
“Hi baby,” Penny greeted, smiling as she hugged him, “you’re off work already?”
“Bel wouldn’t leave my office, so there wasn’t much work getting done,” Greg quipped, glaring at his friend who had all but draped himself over his wife as he read her book over her shoulder.
“You wouldn’t answer my questions!” Bel shot back, “friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”
Greg smirked, “Keep guessing bat-boy, it makes you use that brain you claim to have. It’s good for you.” Bel stuck his tongue out at Greg, much to the amusement of the ladies and shark of the Hellp Desk.
“Alright boys, am I going to have to separate the two of you?” Judy laughed.
“Don’t worry, I’m taking this one home,” Penny said as she gathered up her stuff.
“Ah, I see. You going to send him to his room with you as dinner?” Lily teased, making both Greg and Penny blush while Sharkie made a gagging noise.
“Goodnight, Lily,” Penny giggled, taking Greg’s hand, “goodnight, everybody!” There was a chorus of goodnights that followed the pair as they made their way, towards the Universal Hallway. “What secret are you keeping from Bel?” Penny asked as they climbed the stairs.
“He wants to know what Emith did, but I told him he had to wait until I showed you,” Greg answered giving her hand a little squeeze.
“Oh yeah! That’s right!” She said happily, “I can’t wait to see. You were very vague about what you were getting done this time.”
“It’s a present. You can unwrap it at home,” Greg responded, making Penny blush again.
-line-
Their evening had passed in the soul soothing comfort of familiarity. Dinner, talking about their days, playing with their dog, Pawl, and cuddling together, Pawl included, to read their own books all a part of a well-established routine that brought them both peace. It was as they laid on a couch in the library, once Pawl had wondered out of the room, that Penny wiggled her way out of Greg’s arms so she could straddle his waist. Then, carefully, so as not to lose his place in his book, she took it from him and set it aside.
“Hey!” he said in mock outrage, smiling up at her, “that violates all reading etiquette.”
She shrugged, the movement causing some of her brown hair to fall in her face. Greg reached up to gently push it back and she leaned into the touch as she said, “you said you got me a present.”
“Did I?”
“You did,” she insisted.
Greg looked up at her, mischievously, “I don’t remember….”
Penny “glared” down at him, or at least as much as she could while smiling. “I do believe you said I could unwrap it at home… and we are home,” she continued, and she ran her fingers along the hem of his shirt.
“Well, what is this present supposed to be?”
“You went and got work done at Emith’s and said it was for me. I want to see what you got pierced.”
“What makes you think it’s a piercing?” he teased.
“Gregorith…” Penny scolded playfully, “where is the new piercing?”
Greg leaned back, folding his hands behind his head as he gave her a small smirk, “I’m not giving you any hints.”
Penny shrugged again and leaned in to kiss him. “I don’t need hints, I just need permission,” she said, her lips hovering above his.
“That I give you,” he responded, and if his heart sped up a few beats because of his wife’s actions, who was to say?
Penny kissed him, teasingly, before pulling away and setting to work on unbuttoning his shirt. Greg had been very sure of himself and his tattoo up until the point where Penny had begun undoing the buttons. Suddenly, he felt nervous and had doubts whispering in his head. He felt himself grow still; his eyes locked on her face as she worked. He knew the moment she found the tattoo, both by the coolness on his skin and how her eyes widened, and his heart stopped beating. Time seemed to freeze as Penny stilled, jaw dropping slightly as she stared at the piece.
“Greg…” she whispered after a long moment, her voice changing from playful and teasing to emotional as her fingers tenderly traced the tattoo.
The tattoo was a sketch of Penny he had done as a part of his grieving. It was her profile, her hair falling over her shoulder in a lose braid, as she smiled down at the baby she cradled. The baby was swaddled in a funeral shroud and their features were hidden. It extended from just under his left pectoral until about halfway down his ribcage and the whole style of the piece maintained the sketch like appearance from his original drawing. It was mostly done in black and white, but the shroud had the refrain of a lullaby Penny often hummed written in gold.
“I didn’t want you to be the only one with a reminder… do you like it?” he whispered still unsure of what she thought.
Her teary eyes met his nervous ones, and she gave him a soft smile. “You beautiful kind soul…” she whispered before kissing him gently, “I love it… thank you….” She rested her head on his chest so that she could both hear his heartbeat and see the tattoo, curling herself over him as she let her emotions wash over her. Greg held her, gently rubbing her back while Penny lightly traced the outline of the baby. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation of her fingers relax him while allowing himself to process his own emotions. They laid like that for a while, simply letting each other’s existence sooth their souls. The stillness, however, was once again broken by Penny as she carefully straightened back up, still straddling Greg, her playful smile back as she cocked her head and looked down at him.
“While I have you here, do you mind answering a very important question…or two?” she said, doing her best to be serious and failing at it.
“Sure,” Greg answered, highly amused.
“So… now that you have officially stepped into the realm of “bad boy”,” Penny teased, referencing a soul who had once tried to belittle her by mocking their relationship, “do you have plans for more tattoos?”
“I could…” Greg said, suspicious.
“I see…” she said, biting her lip as her eyes freely roamed his exposed chest, “and… ummm… are you open to suggestions on where your next tattoo should go?” she asked, dragging her eyes over his chest back up to meet his.
“I would be interested in the discussion,” he replied, feeling the telltale signs of arousal beginning.
“Excellent. We should probably call out of work,” Penny said, leaning back over him, her lips hovering over his. “This is going to be a long, detailed conversation,” she explained before kissing him.
-line-
“You and Penny have been out for the last two days, so I know whatever you did, Penny has seen,” Bel declared as he walked into Greg’s office.
“Good morning, Bel, how are you?” Greg responded dryly as he sorted through the soul files that had come in while he was out.
“Show me!” Bel demanded, impatiently, as he sat, arms crossed, on his former couch.
“I’m good, thanks for asking. Penny and I had a nice time off –”
“Gregorith.”
Greg laughed, looking up at his friend who was all but pouting. “Fine…” he sighed with fake exasperation, “just ignore the hickies.” Standing, he came out from behind his desk and lifted his shirt up to show the tattoo to Bel. His friend’s face went from glaring to wide eyed, to oddly emotional as his eyes scanned the piece, taking in the details and its meaning.
“Emith did a great job,” Bel said softly after a long moment, “it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Greg said, pulling his shirt back down, soddenly feeling a little awkward. “Penny had told me that she felt like she had a scar that always reminded her of the miscarriage, and I didn’t want her to feel alone….”
Bel smiled. “And people call you the most terrifying demon in hell…. You’re just a grumpy teddy bear,” he teased, “It’s a really thoughtful piece. Given the hickies and the two days off, I’m going to guess she liked it too?”
Greg laughed softly, “Yes. She even made a few suggestions on where other tattoos should go.”
“Hence the hickies?” Bel laughed.
“Hence the hickies.”
Bel shook his head, highly amused for a moment before growing more serious. “I am confused though,” he said, tone more reflective than anything, “Between your piercings and this tattoo… how are you still afraid of needles?”
Greg took a deep breath in and exhaled it slowly, gathering courage. He had known when getting this tattoo that he would have to finally own up to his true phobia and that would mean admitting things to Bel, and others, he had always sworn he wouldn’t. It meant letting someone other than Penny inside a wall he’d built to protect himself. It also meant admitting that he had lied to his best friend, which was a betrayal of trust, even if he had meant to keep from burdening him. He wasn’t able to meet Bel’s eyes as he said, “it was never the needles. It was the sound.”
Bel stilled, frowning in confusion as he tried to understand what Greg was saying. With another deep breath, and still unable to meet his friend’s eyes, Greg added, “before I went with you for your tattoo I had, had a soul who used tattooing as a way to torture people. I really didn’t think it would matter or bother me so much, but the second I heard the sound…” Greg took a shuddering breath, “the images from his file returned and…”
“You had a flashback,” Bel filled in as Greg drifted off, his voice kind.
Greg nodded, then sighed as he ran a hand over his face. “It was the first one, the first time. The nightmares started soon after and, well… they’re not so bad anymore. I’ve gotten use to them.”
Bel inhaled sharply, taking a moment to process and work through what his friend was saying. “Why,” he began, voice careful, “why didn’t you tell me before? You know I wouldn’t have judged you, right?”
Greg nodded, “For starters, I didn’t fully understand what was happening. I didn’t think I could get PTSD and it took me awhile to finally admit that it was possible. It took me even longer to admit that I did have it. Secondly, I was worried about adding on to your stress and I convinced myself that it would be better if I didn’t say anything.”
“Dumbass,” Bel growled, but his tone was too protective for the word to be an insult.
“Also…” Greg continued, “I wasn’t sure if you would understand and I don’t mean about PTSD,” Greg added quickly as Bel was about to interrupt him again. “I mean about level nine. About what we do and how it… how it affects us and how isolating it can be… It would have been a lot to have to explain and at the time I didn’t know how to. I’m better at doing that now.”
Bel was again quiet for a time and Greg couldn’t blame him. Poor guy had come in to harass him and maybe hang out a little before going back to work, but here they were having an impromptu therapy session. Talk about emotional whiplash.
“What is it that causes your episodes? What was the trauma?” he asked finally.
“The files,” Greg answered, “I get an in-depth look at every detail, sometimes of the entirety of the soul’s existence if it’s relevant, and I don’t get to forget like the Hellp Desk does. The information fades, but never completely.”
“So when you help out at the desk…?”
“Those tend to fade away. I think it’s because I’m not responsible for them. Here, however, I need the information in order to be fair when assigning punishments. I also need it to remember why a soul is here. It’s not as easy as people think to punish souls no matter what they did to get sent here.”
Bel inhaled sharply and held his breath for a moment as the wight of Greg’s revelations sank in. “I’m sorry,” he said, surprising Greg enough that he actually looked at him, “I should have recognized it was more than just being grossed out and more than that. I should have realized it wasn’t as easy to do this work as it seemed, that there was more to it that I didn’t know.”
“But I never said anything,” Greg replied, feeling guilty that Bel would feel the need to apologize for anything.
“But I know what flashbacks are and how much they suck. I know what PTSD is,” Bel came back, “and I think I also have known you have your unfair share of it even if you never talk about it. I think I just didn’t want to admit that I saw the signs. That is also completely unfair to you.”
Greg shrugged, growing awkward again as he suddenly felt very raw and exposed, “we all have our unfair share of trauma. You are not responsible for mine or my inability to talk about it. And you can’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” He took a deep breath in and let it out, hating how serious everything had become. He didn’t want this moment to be serious, he wanted to go back to showing of his first tattoo and joking with his friend. And he defiantly did not want Beleth to feel guilty about something that was absolutely not his fault. “What you can do,” he began, trying to ease the tension, “is help me figure out what to get next, because Penny has already decided where she wants it.”
That made Bel laugh. “Show me your sketch book, because I know you’re too much of a control freak to just trust anyone else to do a design,” he ordered.
“Hey! I trust Penny…” Greg grumbled in his defense as he went to retrieve his book.