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Chapter Text

Alastor woke up on the floor of his radio tower, clutching at his side expecting broken ribs but only found perfectly intact bone, the pain he knew should have been there, gone. Looking down, he saw that he was not wearing his usual red suit, but the outfit he died in, a white button up and black slacks. He paused, lost on how he has miraculously healed overnight. Why was he wearing different clothes?

Alastor slowly took in his surroundings, his radio tower was coated in a thick layer of dust, his broadcasting desk unusable due to long term neglect and even crude graffiti decorated the walls. How long was he unconscious? This had to have been the work of years being untouched. What year was it?

Alastor snapped his fingers, righting the tower back to its former glory and changing his clothes back to his usual red getup. He noticed how that little trick took a bit more energy from him than what he was used to. He focused and traveled through his shadows and onto the streets of Pentagram City. The large clock tower in the middle of the city read 'March 21, 2031'. Yesterday was March 21, 2024. Seven years. How had he lost seven years of time?

Alastor did his best to mask his confusion, this has happened once before, he didn't appear in Hell until seven years after his death. He knew that he died in 1933 but yet, when he awoke in Hell, it was 1940. It was something that had always bothered him, not knowing where he spent the first seven years of his death, but it had hardly crossed his mind after a few decades.

Now he was truly frustrated, he needed to find out where all of this lost time was going... but where would he even start? As far as he knew, no one else had run into this problem. Everyone dropped into Hell the day that they died, everyone but him.

The sinners in the street hardly reacted to his being there. Being gone for nearly a decade seemed to have greatly affected his reputation. That needed to be fixed quickly. He felt weaker than he did the day before or, more accurately, seven years ago but Alastor knew that he was still much more powerful than the average sinner; a very lucky discovery he made when he first fell, but he knew that something in these seven years had drained some of his magic.

How many of his souls died during his absence? He didn't keep all too many, he didn't really need them. He only owned about a dozen to earn his title as Overlord. He didn't feel the loss of any as far as he could tell. What was causing his magic to dwindle?

Alastor made his way to his territory, flaunting his return to the demons of Hell. A few gasps followed in his wake. It seemed some still remembered to fear him. He kept his chin up, stitched smile unwavering. They needed to believe that he had his reasons for disappearing, they couldn't know that he was just as lost as them.

His home was in disrepair, similarly to his radio tower, maybe worse. Vox seemed to have taken his disappearance after their battle as an invitation to slight him. Voxtek logos covered the outside, the windows were all destroyed and looking inside it seemed that someone held some sort of estate sale. There was nothing left of his furniture or decor. Alastor groaned, he needed to inspect his magic. He could feel that even just cleaning up the mansion would take too much energy from him in this state. 

Crackling came through his staff. He winced, his large deer ears twitched when the sound reached them. Another reminder of when he first landed in Hell. His demonic form and all of its quirks took some getting used to. The ears being much more sensitive than his human ones, his balance being off due to having grown about a foot and the small pain in his skull from suddenly having antlers sprouting from it. The deer form infuriated him, though, that was exactly what it was meant to do. Mock him. A cruel punishment for the sinners in Hell, becoming a heartless reference to their cause of death.

He got used to it after a while, using his prey-like sinner form to his advantage. Sinners underestimated him for years, until he revealed himself as The Radio Demon. A demon that didn't need angelic steel to kill permanently, a demon that delighted in torture and sharing the screams of his victims with the citizens of Hell. 

The crackling from his staff cleared and he heard a voice. "Mr. Radio Demon?"

It was Rosie's voice. His closest friend, The Overlord of Cannibal Town. Why would she refer to him as anything but his name? How much had changed in these seven years? Was he forgotten?

"Radio Demon, are you there?"

Alastor brought the microphone up to his mouth. "Rosie, my dear! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He heard a loud gasp from the staff. "Oh my! You really are back!"

Rosie hadn't forgotten him. Alastor sighed with relief. He didn't know what he would have done without his friend. Alastor thrived off of solitude, but it didn't hurt to have someone who was willing to lend an ear from time to time. They had confided nearly everything with each other. There was no one else living or dead that he trusted the way he trusted Rosie. The only secret he had kept from her was his lost time when he first fell, he refused to acknowledge it, even finding it painful to talk about.

Alastor's head pounded as he tried to make sense of his most recent disappearance. He quickly switched his focus back to his friend. "Yes, well, I deserved a little sabbatical, wouldn't you agree?"

"I'd wring your neck for disappearing on me like that but... We have a more pressing matter to handle first."

A more pressing matter than him being missing for almost a decade? "Oh? Well don't keep me in suspense, darling."

There was a long pause. "There's a woman here... she swears she just fell, but she's lookin' for The Radio Demon. She woke up from her fall holding a letter with strange instructions... says she has to give you your own letter, that she has to hand it to you herself. She doesn't seem to know who you are at all!"

"Is she delivering a message for someone?"

"See, that's the strangest part... her instructions say that Mr. Broussard sent her."

Alastor's blood ran cold. His name, something he had kept to himself since his fall. Names held great power in Hell, you were safer if people didn't know who you were in life, much less could be held against you. The only person that knew his full name was Rosie. Who was this woman and why did it sound like she was sent to find him from him? If not sent from him then someone who knew too much. He needed to send a message to whoever sent her, killing their messenger for sticking their nose where it didn't belong. 

Alastor said nothing as he traveled through shadows, stepping into Rosie's office in her emporium. He didn't look to his friend, who gasped at the sight of him, before his claws were digging into the mysterious woman's cheeks. Her blood red eyes widened. Overlord eyes. Eyes she shouldn't have had if she just fell. Eyes he had when he fell.

Her feathered wings, with a color scheme that resembles fire, tightened into her back, shifting the floral blouse, the top buttons undone, exposing her white undershirt. Alastor had to focus to not let his eyes wander down to her low neckline, something he had never had to think about before this moment. Her long red tail, tipped with the same fire-like feathers as her wings, wrapped itself around her hips, covering the belt holding up her tight bootcut jeans, revealing brown working boots.

The phoenix demon didn't scream, she didn't beg for her life, she simply looked him up and down in the range of motion that his grip allowed.

"Well, you're terrifyin'," she stated calmly, a thick southern drawl rolling from her tongue. 

Something about this woman was familiar. Impossible, especially if she wasn't lying about having just fell, he had never met this woman. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he should let her go, let her explain.

He stuffed that feeling down. In his weakened state he was unable to take risks like that. This woman knew too much about him, but not enough to react to his threatening in the proper manner.

His lip curled into a sneer. "Who are you," he asked through gritted teeth.

"Dawn. My name's Dawn."

"Who sent you?"

"I don't know. I just woke up holdin' these." Dawn held up two white envelopes. "One was addressed to me... in my handwritin'. The other is addressed to The Radio Demon from some guy named Alastor. I don't remember writin' it and I don't know anyone named Alastor. I'm guessin' that's this Mr. Broussard fella."

She guessed correctly, but she was clearly unaware that he, The Radio Demon, was Alastor Broussard. Information that he would be keeping to himself while he figured out who this woman was and why 'Alastor' sent her.

He kept his eyes on Dawn, "Rosie, please excuse us. I need to have a private conversation with miss Dawn here. I will come find you when this business is settled."

He didn't wait for an answer before taking Dawn through his shadows and into his radio tower. May as well get information from her there, she may make for a lovely first broadcast since his return.

He released her cheeks from his claws, leaving deep gashes behind. She didn't make any move to run, just stood there, staring at him curiously.

Did she see familiarity in him too? Did she want to trust him more than she should as he did for her?

"Where are your instructions?"

Dawn took the envelope that had already been opened and handed it to him. The envelope read 'To Dawn, DO NOT LOOK TO THE PAST -Dawn'. A letter to her from her. What could 'do not look to the past' possibly mean?

Alastor looked up from the envelope to the woman with his brows knitted in question.

"The instructions are inside."

She made no sign of knowing what the warning meant but she made no sign of confusion either. 

Alastor decided to put that question on the back burner until he had read each letter thoroughly. He slowly pulled out a folded piece of parchment and opened it. The letter was written in his handwriting but, of course, he had no recollection of writing it.

He sat with that thought for a moment, racking his brain for any memory of writing a letter to someone named Dawn. A migraine began to form at his temples, pulling his focus. Grunting, he pulled his thoughts to the words in front of him, rather than the person that wrote them. 

'Dawn, follow theses instructions down to the letter. Your life depends on it.

Find Rosie, she lives in a place called Cannibal Town. Unfortunately, there is no telling where you will fall when you arrive in Hell so I am unable to give you directions. Do not ask anyone for any help. Trust no one. You have magic, protect yourself. Follow the eyeless folk, they will lead you to Cannibal Town.

When you find Rosie in her emporium, inform her that you have a letter for The Radio Demon, you must hand him this letter in person. She may mention that he has not been seen for seven years, assure her that he is back. If push comes to shove, tell her that a Mr. Broussard sent you to deliver the letter.

Give The Radio Demon his letter and ensure that he reads it in front of you. Then, and only then, look back on where you were March 21, 2024 after your death. 

- Mr. Broussard'

The date. She died on the same day that he disappeared. What did this woman's death have to do with his disappearance?

Alastor held out his hand, ready to read the letter addressed to him. She watched him curiously and slowly handed the letter to him. He could see her anticipation building as she shifted on her feet and anxiously played with her long orange hair, tipped with yellow, clearly just as interested as he was in finding out what all of this meant.

He looked at the envelope 'To The Radio Demon - From Alastor'. Again, the handwriting was his. The answers to where he had been must hav been in the envelope. He ripped it open and pulled the parchment from it. His letter was much shorter, though much more mysterious.

'Heal her. Only she can free you. Follow her instructions. Use this rune.'

The rune was one he didn't recognize, clearly a meshing of a few different symbols to create something new.

He looked back up to Dawn and surveyed her body. She didn't look injured save for the gashes he left in her cheeks. Why would he need to heal her? Alastor knew plenty of healing runes, having had decades of practice with his newfound blood magic after he manifested in Hell. Why this symbol? What instructions would this woman have for him? She seemed just as confused as him.

"You read it?" Dawn asked, clearly getting impatient. 

Alastor narrowed his eyes but gave a curt nod. 

Dawn took a deep breath in. As she released her breath, her eyes glazed over and darted around wildly. Her breath caught and her eyes widened. She snapped her gaze back to his. "Al!"

Before Alastor was able to react to her sudden recognition of him, her nose began to bleed. She grunted, gripping her head in pain. She appeared as though she was trying to focus on something. He wanted to tell her to stop what she was doing, to stop thinking, to pull her focus from what she was seeing. But he made no move to do so, needing to see the outcome.

Dawn's eyes focused and unfocused erratically, bloodied tears pooled in her eyes. She looked up at him, the blood dripping down her cheeks, her expression pleading.

The rune, she needed the rune. Instinct told him to draw it, to stop questioning, but he still didn't move. He didn't know this woman, why would he risk the unknown for her?

She fell to the ground and a scream ripped from her throat. He saw that there was no time to weigh his options, either he healed her or she died.

'Only she can free you'. Alastor growled, he needed to know what that meant, why he wasn't free.

He extended his claws and pricked his thumb, a droplet of blood forming from the wound. Dropping to his knees, he drew the strange rune on her collarbone.

The effect was immediate, the green glow of his magic started at the symbol and slowly encompassed her entire body.

As the green glow died down, Dawn slowly relaxed, the pain subsiding, the gashes in her cheeks closing up. She was still breathing heavily but she was healed. She weakly looked up at him. "Told you it would work, Al."

Alastor masked his exhaustion from the overuse of his magic. What was she talking about? She gave him no reassurance for whatever this was working. It was clear that only moments ago, she didn't even know his name, but the familiarity in her tone was apparent.

"Who are you?"

She closed her eyes and smiled easily. "Already told you that, didn't I? Dawn."

"What was that?" Alastor couldn't mask his impatience with her. "Why act like you didn't know who I was?" He was so sure that this woman was clueless. What did she want from him?

"I didn't. Now I do," Dawn stated as she brought herself up to a seated position. She wiped a bloodied tear from her cheek and inspected in curiously. "Let me see your wound."

His wound?

The prick on his finger. His blood was still dripping from it. "No."

Dawn scoffed. "Come on, I'm testin' a theory. You can trust me."

"Why should I trust you?" Alastor sneered at her, asking himself more so than her.

She fluttered her lashes at him. "I can tell you where you've been for the past seven years."

Alastor's eyes widened at that. This woman appeared in Hell with letters written in his handwriting, with his name. Surely, she must have known something. No one else knew that he was unaware of where he had been, he was desperate for answers. Slowly, he gave her his hand. 

Dawn grabbed it gently and rubbed the tear into his wound. It immediately scabbed over. Her tears were healing, but not nearly as healing as his own magic. Interesting.

She breathed a laugh, "funny," she said flatly. 

Alastor ripped his hand from her. "Explain yourself. Now." 

"Before I do that..." she gave him a meek smile, "I need to borrow your magic."

This woman must have been joking. There was no way in, well... Hell, that he would be handing anyone any of his magic. He snarled at her.

"I know how that sounds, darlin', but unless you want to succumb to that-" she gestured to the pool of blood on the ground that she was just convulsing on, "-I'm gonna need to be able to heal you."

"Is that a threat?" 

Dawn rolled her eyes. "No, Radiohead, it's a warnin'. I'm not telling you anythin' until I know that I can heal you."

Alastor sneered at the nickname. Why would she care if she could heal him or not? Why would she need to heal him after sharing information? 

"I don't know you and I most definitely do not trust you."

She smiled, visibly entertained. "Well, why don't you get to know me? I could use a tour of Hell."

The thought of spending more time with the woman was both intriguing and infuriating. Everything she was saying seemed genuine, but Alastor was not a trusting person. He had never given away any of his magic to another soul, yet something about her was so familiar, so trustworthy. He couldn't shake the small voice in his head screaming at him to do as she said.

The letter specifically instructed him to follow her instructions. He decided that he would spend the day with her and see just how desperate he was to find out what was happening at the end of the day.

Alastor stood and begrudgingly offered her a hand. She smiled warmly at the gesture, her eyes practically sparkling as she reached for his hand and pulled herself up to standing. He felt something in his stomach fluttering at the sight but immediately decided to ignore ot, chalking it up to anticipation.

Alastor took a deep breath to gather himself, having used too much magic already for the day, and moved them through the shadows and onto the streets of Pentagram City.

Dawn flourished a hand, blue glowing sand coming from her fingertips, manifesting a mirror in front of her, visibly delighting her.

The letter to her seemed to ring true, she did possess magic. She used the mirror to wipe away the dried blood she saw on her cheeks and lips, then carefully covered the rune he drew on her by buttoning up her blouse. She snapped and the mirror was gone.

She studied her hand for a moment, clearly still learning the extent of her magic, and smiled back up to him. "Alright, ready for my tour."

Alastor offered her his arm instead of his hand, which she took eagerly, and lead her to the inner city.

As Dawn looked around, she didn't seem surprised by anything. There was murder and thieving happening at every corner, yet she just looked around as though this was completely normal for her, in fact she was leading the way more so than Alastor.

Dawn appeared to both know too much and too little at the same time. It was maddening trying to figure her out.

Her attention only seemed to catch on a demon running from them, texting on his vPhone in a panic as he rounded the corner.

Her eyes glazed over like they did in the radio tower.

Alastor readied himself to get them out of the public eye if she were to collapse again, but she just refocused and looked up at him casually. "I think your old pal Vox was just made aware of your return. That guy works for him."

Alastor stiffened. "What do you know of Vox?"

She smirked. "Everythin'."

Before he could demand that she explain what she meant by that, a group of sinners with red swirling eyes approached them, clearly under Vox's spell.

Alastor cracked his neck, hoping that there was enough magic in him to handle the demons.

Dawn raised her hand. "Hold on. I wanna see somethin'."

Alastor did as she said and watched her as she tested out her magic.

Dawn flicked her wrist towards the hoard of sinners, setting them aflame with a blue fire. Her breath caught as her eyes widened, horrified at what she had just done. 

Alastor's head cocked to the side. The woman seemed so unbothered by everything else. Perhaps she had never actually killed someone before?

While he was completely distracted by his curiosity, another demon with the same swirling red eyes snuck up behind them, shocking them with powerful tasers, rendering the both of them unconscious.

Chapter Text

Alastor slowly woke up. He noticed immediately that he was bound to a chair. He sat up quickly and looked down to his bindings. Angelic rope. His magic would be of no use while trapped like this.

When he took in his surroundings, he noticed that they were in The Vee Tower. It had changed quite a bit since he'd last seen it but he recognized it all the same.

The giant windows showed that they were trapped on the top floor. Vox's level.

Looking to his left, he saw that was Dawn already awake, bound by angelic rope as well but was sitting calmly, looking around as if bored.

Dawn noticed his consciousness and smiled at him. "After I free us, will you finally let me borrow it?"

Alastor glared at her. "After you free us? You are the reason we're here in the first place! If you hadn't-"

He was cut off when Vox entered the room. He'd updated his look, sporting a much flatter screen, his red and blue suit much better tailored, the antenna coming out of his small black hat was still broken from their fight.

A small victory Alastor let himself feel, he was left with no permanent mark from their battle.

"Alastor! Where've you been, buddy? Everyone thought you died after we kicked your ass. Who's your friend," Vox teased.

Alastor said nothing as he glared at him. 

"Why don't you ask me yourself, Dick," Dawn said with a sadistic smirk.

Vox's screen glitched before snapped his head to her, the static in his voice rising. "What did you just call me?"

Dawn leaned back, relaxing into her restraints. "That's your name, ain't it? Or do you prefer Richard?" 

Vox stormed towards her, wrapping his hand around her throat. She gave no reaction save for a growing smile. "Did you know you sound pathetic when you beg?"

Alastor didn't know why, but the sight of Vox's hand around her neck infuriated him.

How did she know his name? Not even Alastor knew his name and they were friends for years. What begging was she talking about? Honestly, the more time he spent with the woman, the more questions he had rather than answers.

Vox sneered at her, "what are you talking about? How do you know my name?"

"Oh, Alastor, please don't leave! I love you," she mocked. 

Both Vox and Alastor stiffened. That was the last thing that Vox had said to him before they broke out into an all out battle.

The room was silent for a moment, as if all of the air had been sucked out, until Dawn started to giggle. "Do you wanna hear what he sounds like when he begs for me, intern?"

Alastor felt his claws extend, gripping the arms of the chair leaving deep gashes in their wake. He had never begged for another person in his life. Who the fuck was this woman?

He instinctively growled when he saw Vox's hand grip her tighter.

Dawn's eyes glazed over again, as well as Vox's.

tried to wriggle from his restraints, attempting to use the distraction to escape, but it was no use. Vox knew his knots.

Both Dawn and Vox's eyes came back into focus and Alastor could see that Vox was seething, electricity pulsing around him.

"Video killed the radio star," she spat at him.

His screen stuttered for a moment, then his face went blank, eyes empty. "Obey Dawn," she ordered.

Vox nodded his head. "Obey Dawn."

Dawn nodded to her tied down arms. "Untie Dawn."

"Untie Dawn," Vox repeated.

Alastor gawked at her, both stunned and impressed. How did she know how to do that? 

After Vox released her, she rubbed at the slight bruising on her arm before nodding towards Alastor. "Untie Alastor."

Vox nodded again, "untie Alastor." 

Once released, he stood up so quickly the chair he was sitting it nearly flew across the room. "How did you do that?"

Dawn chuckled. "Val has a free use kink. He had it installed not long after you left." 

Val? How did she know who Valentino was? After he left? What was happening?

Dawn noticed his panic, her expression softening. "Let's go back to your radio tower. The tour 'round Hell can wait. I wanna tell you everythin' just please trust me." 

Alastor didn't answer her. He just continued to stare at her, his breathing picking up.

Her brows worried as she slowly walked up to him and offered him a cautious hand. "We can make a deal if you want."

Alastor's eyes glowed green at the offer. If he made a deal with her, maybe he would have more control of the situation.

He steadied his breath and took her hand. Blue sand surrounded them, they both looked around amazed.

When the sand dissipated, they were back in his radio tower. He quickly calmed himself and stood up straighter, feigning his confidence. "What kind of a deal?" 

Dawn rolled her eyes and smiled, like this is all ridiculous but she was willing to play along. "You let me borrow your magic for five minutes and I'll keep my promise and do what I can to free your soul. Everythin'll be cleared up after those five minutes, I swear." Her hand extended to him, ready to shake.

Alastor stared at it for a moment. Five minutes without his magic, a lot can happen in five minutes. "How do I know you won't just kill me?"

"I promise I won't kill you. That would get in the way of freein' your soul, wouldn't it," she mused.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I let you borrow my magic for five minutes, you cannot use my magic to harm me in any way and in return you help me to free my soul. Do we have a deal?"

Dawn smiled wide. "Deal."

The moment their hands met, the room exploded with green light. Alastor's face changed, the green stitching of his smile glowing, as well as the red 'X' on his forehead. His antlers extended to almost meet the ceiling as his irises turned to green radio dials.

The magic in this deal was incredible, the power this woman held was stronger than any he had ever felt.

As the high of making the deal cooled, he felt the magic leaving his body and into her hand. Her eyes glowed green and her brows furrowed. "Ugh, this feels awful." 

Alastor felt empty, even emptier than he felt as a human. He immediately regretted making this deal, having never felt so vulnerable in his entire existence.

When he looked to Dawn, she was staring at her hands, her lips curling in disgust. Alastor cocked his head to the side. "Is something wrong?"

She continued staring at her hands. "You ever take pre-workout?"

"What?"

Dawn shivered before looking up at him. "Stupid question. I know you haven't. It's this powder you mix with your water before goin' to the gym. It's just a helluva lot of caffeine. If you don't keep movin', it feels like your veins itch. That's what your magic feels like. It's like I can feel all of the blood in my body movin' through me."

Alastor took inventory of his body. It did feel calmer, like he had been on edge his entire life and has just finally relaxed. Is that what he felt like when he was human? It had been so long that he didn't remember. Something told him that no, even as a human he always felt the blood running through his veins. He thought that was what everyone felt. Apparently not.

She shrugged. "Must be the blood magic." With a delicate flourish of her wrist towards his broadcasting desk, a song began to play.

'I, I just woke up from a dream...Where you and I had to say goodbye'

Dawn held out a hand. "Dance with me?"

Alastor blinked, staring at her extended hand. "You were just given five minutes with the most powerful overlord in Hell's magic and you want to spend it dancing?"

She chuckled. "I don't need the whole five minutes. Come on, just one dance."

'Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow...Nobody's promised tomorrow' 

Alastor shrugged and rolled his eyes, it wasn't like she could hurt him. He took her hand, spinning her into a dance. The song sounded familiar but he couldn't place where he'd heard it before. Even so, he found himself humming along as he lead her easily. She followed him perfectly, like they had danced together for years.

'If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you... If the party was over and our time on Earth was through... I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile'

Alastor tried to think back to where he'd heard the song before, something about it felt significant.

When he tried to remember, his head felt like it was going to split open. He grunted from the pain, stopping their dance suddenly.

Dawn cupped his cheek softly. Something about that gesture calmed him and he leaned into it, the pain slowly dissipating.

"Don't think about it, just dance," she whispered.

With a deep breathe, he obeyed her, something he found all too easy. He'd never just obeyed anyone before but obeying her felt right, like she would never tell him to do anything that would bring him harm.

The deal they made definitely ensured that she wouldn't use his magic against him but it felt like the trust came from somewhere else. He tried to think of anything else, anything but what her arm wrapped around his shoulder felt like, what holding her hand ignited in him. Alastor had never reacted to another person like this before, especially not a stranger. 

'Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow... Nobody's promised tomorrow... So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night'

This woman, this infuriating woman. Why did he feel so much trust towards her? Why was she using the time she was given with his magic to dance with him? Why did he want her closer?

The tempo picked up as well as their dance. Alastor couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile. He spun her around to the strumming of the guitar, making her giggle. He found that he quite enjoyed that sound. He pulled every move in the book that he knew to try to coax that sound from her throat again, it worked. She was enjoying this just as much as him. What was she doing to him?

The music slowed as the singers harmonized the last few lyrics and Alastor pulled her back towards him, their eyes meeting. The song ended and there were a few seconds of silence while they stared at each other. He caught her glancing at his lips. Something deep within him stirred at the sight. She wanted to kiss him.

Why did he want to kiss her? He didn't know this woman and she had done nothing but annoy him since meeting her. Yet, his hand found its way to her cheek, his other tightening on her hip. He leaned down and pulled her lips to his. 

The second they kissed, Alastor's vision was blinded with images. 

He was human, there was a red haired woman talking to him as he glared down at her. The woman silently cried in his arms. Two women, identical to the redhead, one with blonde hair and one with black hair, spoke to them while holding hands. The red haired woman was burning alive, her eyes melting from her skull. Him and the woman were lying in bed together, their lips met. They were half naked in the woods of New Orleans. He was on his knees, his hands tied behind him, smiling up at the woman.  A man with a goat's head was laughing at him. The black haired twin drew a symbol on a napkin. He was writing a letter to the woman while she sat next to him. They were dancing in a dark club, the familiar song playing.

Alastor's head pounded. He stumbled backwards, a warm liquid dripped from his nose as he looked up at Dawn. There was a worried look in her eyes but she remained calm.

Before he could demand that she stop this, his ears rang. He gripped his head as he collapsed to the ground. Bloodied tears dripped from his eyes as memories from the past seven years came flooding back.

He let out a guttural scream before his vision was completely clouded by the past.

Chapter Text

Alastor traveled through his shadows and fell to the ground in his radio tower. Vox had kissed him, kissed him! Alastor lost it when Vox forced their lips together, begging Alastor to stay when he refused to join his little team. Alastor attacked him and a battle broke out. He had Vox by the throat, ready to deliver the killing blow when that damned moth, Valentino, caught him by surprise.

He felt at his side, all of the ribs on the right side were broken, piercing his lungs. Alastor coughed up some blood. He was dying. Permanent death wouldn't take him yet, but this would take a long while to reanimate from. What if someone found his corpse and finished the job? He pricked his finger, letting the blood collect at the tip. He lost his chance to heal himself when he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

When Alastor awoke again, he was standing, no longer in his radio tower. There was nothing but whiteness. He squinted as the brightness of this place burned his eyes. He could feel that he was human again, the smile he stitched into his face when he got to Hell was no longer there, the muscles in his cheeks ached from the long term use. Looking down, he saw the dark tanned skin of his hands. He felt for his hair, his chestnut waves had returned and the gold wire glasses he wore in life sat at the bridge of his nose.

Memories of this place came flooding back. He was in Purgatory. Every one hundred years he would be called back to this place to serve a seven year sentence and weaken him enough to be safely returned to Hell. He learned after his death that the father he was missing in life was none other than the Loa, Baron Samedi. Alastor had the power of a god in death, too powerful for a mortal soul, not to be trusted lest he use that power to take over Hell. 

He spun around to find a man in a sleek black suit with the head of a goat and a candle burning between his horns. Anger locked him in place. He wanted for nothing more that to tear his damned horns from his head. "It hasn't been a hundred years yet," he spat through gritted teeth.

Baphomet smiled, only angering Alastor further. "No, it hasn't."

"Why am I here?" Alastor growled.

"Another demigod has passed. She won't last long in Hell. You're close enough to your sentencing. I didn't feel that she should be alone in hers."

Alastor seethed, his shoulders tensing while his fists clenched at his sides. He was left alone to endure this torture when he died. He had just made a very powerful enemy. Hell would think that Vox had successfully killed him. He couldn't return in seven years, too much of his magic drained from him, and be forced to face Vox in a weakened state. "You brought me here before my sentencing to befriend a woman I won't even remember? Lose some of my power for what? To keep her company?" 

Baphomet nodded.

"You have got to be joking."

Baphomet's attention changed, looking off to the side. "It seems that she has finally pulled herself together. Why don't I take you to her."

The whiteness dimmed and they were in front of a large grey house. The house he would be staying in for the next seven years, apparently sharing with a random person.

Standing at the bottom of the steps, a woman with copper hair and the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen stared at him curiously.  She was wearing a button up floral blouse, the top buttons undone exposing her white undershirt, tucked into boot cut jeans though she was missing the boots as she stood there barefoot in front of him.

Baphomet looked down at Alastor. "I will leave you two to get acquainted." He disappeared and Alastor was left to glare at the woman. The very reason for his early sentencing. 

She opened her mouth to speak but shut it as soon as she took in the ire he was directing toward her. Alastor stormed past her, catching her shoulder as he made his way up the stairs. "Follow or don't. I don't care."

He heard her scoff behind him. "Well ain't you just a delight." She had a deep southern accent. It wasn't a Louisianan accent, but he did like to hear it all the same. Ignoring that small bit of comfort, he stomped into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. The woman followed him and leaned casually on the wall across from him. "So...what's your name?" 

Alastor didn't answer, he just faced her with his arms crossed. Alastor knew better than to blame her for his being here, she died, but he could't help but fault her. The blame needed to be placed and she was the defining factor in this awful situation that he was just thrust into.

He watched as her eyes seemed to unfocus for a second then quickly focus back to him, a mischievous glint in her eye. She walked up to him, holding out a hand. "Dawn. Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart! Quite the pleasure," she mimicked his usual greeting, transatlantic accent and all. 

He narrowed his eyes. He would believe it was some strange coincidence if it weren't for the accent she put on. Have they met before? That was impossible, she just died. How did she already know how to mock him?

Dawn kept her hand extended. "This is where you tell me your name," she whispered.

Alastor continued to glare at her. "In Hell, you will know me as The Radio Demon."

Her hand dropped as she bit her lip, attempting to stifle a laugh.

A moment passed and the laugh escaped her mouth. She was laughing at him? Who did this woman think she was? After she finally caught her breath, she looked at him, still smiling. "What is that? Your MySpace username?"

"My...your...what?"

Dawn's eyes glazed over again and she looked at him, her interest peaked. "Yeah, I didn't have a MySpace page either, mama said I was too young for it." She looked him up and down, taking in his white button up and black slacks, the clothes he died in. He suddenly felt severely underdressed under her gaze. Though, she didn't seem to be looking at him in a predatory manner, just surveying him.

"Somethin' tells me that you're much too old to have had a MySpace, died in the 30's right?"

She came to that conclusion just looking at him? He furrowed his brows at her, refusing to acknowledge that she was correct. 

"So, Radiohead-"

"Radio Demon," he corrected.

"Mr. Demon, Radio, how did you die?"

The audacity of this woman. Even he knew when he first fell that that was a very personal question. "A small bit of advice, Dawn, don't go around asking people how they died."

Dawn kept her infuriating smile and bounced on her toes, her hands clasped behind her back. "I'll tell you how I died."

"I suggest that you keep that information to yourself."

She shrugged. "I'm gonna tell you anyway." Her eyes glazed over again but before Alastor could stop her, she snapped her attention back to him. "I was out buryin' a body in the woods, forgot it was huntin' season. Got shot between the eyes. I think the hunter mistook me for a deer."

Alastor's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Did all demigods die the same way? He'd never met another one. Was this some curse?

Dawn laughed humorlessly. "Kiddin'! I was burnt at the stake. Wouldn't that be funny, though? If we died the same way."

Burnt at the stake in this day and age? Did Baphomet say something to her? Why was she teasing him? "How do you-"

"How do I know how you died?" She interrupted. "Well, I know a lot of things... Alastor."

He stiffened at the sound of his name on her lips. He'd made a point to not tell her his name, refusing to get to know the woman he would forget the second he was returned to Hell.

Once more, her eyes glazed over before she started to giggle. "I know that you were a serial killer in New Orleans. I know that you're called The Radio Demon 'cause you broadcast your victims screams throughout Hell. I know that your demon form has cervine features with big, fluffy ears that you will be lettin' me pet, by the way, and..." she gasped, "you think my eyes are pretty."

She was a fucking mind reader? Alastor couldn't have that, couldn't let people see past him that way. He stepped into her space, backing her into a wall. She didn't react in fear, just stared at him patiently. He bent down to meet her at eye level. "Get out of my head," he gritted out.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I'm not in your head, Radiohead."

"Then how do you know these things about me?"

She giggled again. "As far as knowin' your past, that's what I do, I can see visions of the past. As for you thinkin' my eyes are pretty..." she smirked, "I didn't know until just now and, Alastor, I'm flattered."

He felt his cheeks flush when he realized her little trick. This was no good, no good at all. How much could she see? What could she use against him?

"How do you have magic here?" The entire point of their sentence was to diminish their magic. His was gone the second that he was called back. How did she figure out how to keep hers?

"This place doesn't take our magic, it just traps us in our human bodies. I've always been able to see visions, even in life."

Alastor stayed silent until she flicked her wrist at him dismissively. "Oh, don't worry, I won't make a habit of lookin' into your past so long as you play nice."

"And if I don't?" Alastor was not enjoying her casual threats. 

She sighed, amused. "Then I guess you'll never free your soul."

Alastor stood up straight, staring down at her surprised. "What?"

Dawn's head fell to the side, smiling at him sweetly. "I know how to free your soul, you know, unleash your full power. Permanently."

Alastor didn't know if he was breathing. He would have liked for nothing more than his freedom; to not have to worry about choosing the wrong time to disappear only to come back weaker, to be even more powerful than Lucifer himself.

"How?"

She scoffed. "Well, I won't tell you that until I can figure out how to not die when I get to Hell."

"Why will you die in Hell?" Baphomet had mentioned that she wouldn't survive long. That seemed unlikely given that she could do anything she wanted, knowing everyone's deepest darkest secrets. Especially if she was given the same level of power that he had in Hell.

"We're not allowed to remember this place when we fall. Can't be trusted knowin' that we have the potential to overthrow the balance of power in Hell. The second I notice that I've been missin' for seven years, I'll look back. When I see the images of memories I don't have, I'll die. The memories will basically melt my brain, killin' me permanently. Once I figure out how to survive, I promise to help free you."

This woman was destined for Hell? She seemed so... selfless. Willing to help a complete stranger who had been nothing but rude to her. She was hardly asking for anything in return, just kindness.

"Why would you help me? Can't you just free your own soul and take over Hell yourself?" It was certainly what he would have done in her position.

"Don't worry, Al, I can assure you that my reasons for helpin' you are completely selfish. All I'm askin' is that you play nice."

Alastor wasn't given the chance to question her further before she merrily strolled out of the kitchen, making her way up the stairs to find her room.

Chapter Text

A few months passed and Dawn was no closer to figuring out how to survive in Hell than she was when they first arrived in Purgatory. Alastor decided to help her, seeing as she wouldn't be of much use to him if she were to drop dead her first day in Hell. They spent most mornings in his room, studying books on the occult that he had collected during his first sentence in an attempt to free himself. They were getting frustrated. Now that Alastor actually had some experience with magic, he found that most of the books were useless. Written by humans who clearly knew nothing about what truly hid behind the veil. 

It was early morning and Dawn was rubbing at her temples over a book while sitting at Alastor's desk, clearly overwhelmed. Alastor looked up from the book he was reading while lounging on the large black couch in his room. Dawn could use a break, they did have over six years to figure this out.

"So, miss Dawn, what did you do to earn your one way ticket to Hell?" It was a question that he had been keeping to himself since the day that they first met. They had become acquainted enough now, one could have even called them friends. Besides, she already knew why he was damned to Hell. It was only fair.

Dawn turned to face him, the exhaustion clear in her eyes. "I killed people," she admitted flatly.

Alastor wasn't expecting that. She was fairly small for a woman in her mid twenties, standing at only 5'5. She didn't necessarily look weak but she didn't look all that strong either. Alastor knew what it took to successfully kill someone, his body stayed rather toned throughout his reign of terror on Earth. He never needed to do any extra working out to stay fit.

"What drove you to murder, if you don't mind my asking?"

She sighed. "The man who thought he was my dad, Preston,-" Alastor noticed her wince slightly when mentioning the name but chose to ignore it and let her continue. "-he was the preacher in the little town I grew up in. After my sisters and I started seein' visions, he convinced the church that he was chosen by God, that we were gifted by angels. Obviously, we figured out quickly that that wasn't true but we let him believe it. He spoiled us rotten, so long as we spread the 'good word' for him. He gained an insane followin', people from all over the world came to 'The Miller Sisters' to find out the secrets to life. A lot of people, especially woman, came to me askin' to see what their partners were up to behind their backs." Dawn scowled, "I saw what those men would do to women...even children-" she almost whispered the last word, "-behind closed doors. I decided to rid the world of them. My sisters helped me get away with it."

There was no joy in her voice when talking about her past, her eyes having a far away look as she explained. Alastor started to actually feel bad for asking so he decided to change the subject. "Is there a reason you were given powers while alive and I wasn't?" 

Dawn's gaze drifted back to his. "I have my theories."

"Well I would love to hear them," he said playfully.

"I think you were some kinda mortal version of a vampire in life. Your eyes would sometimes glow green when you ate your victims. Gross, by the way. Dependin' on how raw the meat was, small cuts you got from...your work... would heal up when you ate. I saw it in the visions I had when I first met you."

Now that was an interesting theory. Alastor never really knew why he felt such an urge to eat his victims after he killed them, but he always felt stronger when he did. He'd always chalked it up to the thrill of the kill.

"That... actually may be true. I would be drawn to the blood more so than usual when I was sick or injured." So maybe he did have magic in life, maybe he had that magic now and never knew it.

"So, I'm right! You're a vampire!" She gasped. "Do you sparkle?" 

Alastor looked at her confused. Why would he sparkle? "What?"

Dawn laughed and clutched her stomach while she tried to collect herself, apparently that was some joke she knew he wouldn't understand. She wiped a tear from her eye. "I would recommend the Twilight books, but I don't think they're dirty enough for your tastes."

Alastor's eyes widened. "What have I told you about looking into my past without my permission," he scolded.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, calm down, I didn't look into your past. I was lookin' through your books, where I found that particular collection of stories." 

He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. Why didn't he think to hide those knowing that she would be looking through his bookshelf?

Dawn smiled. "Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of, Radiohead, everyone topside openly reads smut nowadays. The ACOTAR series really seemed to awaken somethin' in a lot of people," she giggled, "I'll have to find you a copy when we're finally allowed to visit Earth, you might like it."

Alastor refused to acknowledge any of what she had just said. Instead, he looked to the bedside clock on his nightstand. "Well, it's about time we wrap up our reading. Baphomet will be expecting us soon."

Dawn's head cocked to the side as she looked at him, the gears almost visibly turning behind her eyes. Alastor was about to ask her what she was thinking when she spoke up. "I wanna test my theory."

"Test your theory?" Surely she didn't mean what he thought she meant.

Dawn jumped up and darted into his bathroom. He followed behind and found her opening his drawers, looking for something. "Where's your razor?"

Alastor's mouth opened slightly. "Why do you need my razor?"

Dawn scoffed. "You know why I need your razor, Edward." Alastor wasn't given a chance to ask who Edward was before she found what she was looking for. "Found it!" She held up his straight razor and opened the blade. 

"Dawn." He knew that he should stop her, but he didn't want to. He himself would have liked to know if she was correct about his magic. She held out her hand, waiting for him to hand his over. He did. She dragged the blade across his palm. He winced slightly as it cut through his skin but found that he almost enjoyed the sensation.

After the blood began pooling in his hand, she took the razor and slit a small cut on her shoulder, not too deep and in a spot she could easily hide. She must have been confident in her theory if she had cut him so deeply and in such a plain spot. She hopped on the counter as the blood dripped down her arm, her head gesturing to the wound. 

Alastor's throat bobbed. It felt dry. Thirsty, he was suddenly so thirsty. He slowly grabbed her arm, doing his best to not grip too hard, his own blood mixing with hers. He used his other hand to steady himself by gripping the counter on the other side of her legs, caging her in. He felt his heart pounding as he slowly brought his lips to her shoulder, licking at the blood. He let out a small moan once the liquid coated his tongue.

Dawn's breath hitched. He had to stay incredibly focused so as to not leave bruises on her arm. She tasted magnificent, the magic in her blood making her taste like a fine wine, a Côtes du Rhône or perhaps a Bordeaux, aged to perfection. He lost control of himself, biting down on her shoulder too hard.

Dawn grunted before tapping his shoulder with her free hand. "Alright. Find the will, Edward." 

He immediately stepped away from her, looking down at his hand, the wound healing right in front of him, eventually closing completely. He stared at it amazed. He could do that this entire time?

Dawn tried to peak over his hand while rubbing at her shoulder. "Did it work?"

He showed her the perfectly healed hand. "That could be a rather useful," he teased.

"You take my blood without my permission, I'm findin' your most embarrassin' memory and plaguin' your dreams with it."

Alastor chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Dawn smiled as she hopped down from the counter and made her way to her room to change for the day. When she came back, she was wearing a dark red shirt with a deep V neckline and black lace fabric overlaying the tight fit, her sleeves just long enough to cover the cut on her shoulder. She paired the shirt with ripped black skinny jeans and black boots. Alastor looked at her outfit and raised a brow at her in question. She shrugged. "Feelin' vampiric today."

He smirked and rolled his eyes, offering her an arm and lead them into the heart of Purgatory.

Purgatory was mostly white empty space save for the small cities in the center. Souls with undecided fates spent their time there, being cleansed for years until they were deemed pure enough to enter Heaven's Gate. Alastor and Dawn's job while there was to assist in cleansing these souls. The holy water burned their skin, as they were the furthest thing from pure, and seeped into their bodies making their Hell magic weaker. The job was awful but Alastor was glad that he wasn't suffering alone this time. Misery does love company. 

Dawn seemed to hate the job more than he did, hardly able to handle the burn. Alastor assumed it was because of her cause of death but she never mentioned it, nor did she ever complain. She just took far too many breaks. Baphomet spent most of his days demanding that she get back to work. 

"Dawn! If you want to be free of this place after these seven years, you will need to have cleansed enough souls to be trusted in Hell," Baphomet scolded, "who knows? Perhaps your chance of survival may even rise if your magic dwindles enough."

Dawn scowled and stood up from the ground she was just silently hugging her knees on, the soul she was meant to be cleaning staring blankly forward. "Oh, fuck you! You know damn well why I don't wanna be doin' this. There's gotta be another way to burn away my magic," she snapped at him.

Alastor's eyes widened. He'd never dared to speak to Baphomet that way, wanting to finish his sentence as quickly as possible. He was hardly feeling the burn that day, Dawn's blood doing its work to heal him as he purified souls. He didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing for the work he did there. Did the healing stop the magic from being burned away? He didn't know if he wanted to risk a longer sentence to figure that out.

Alastor stood up, turning from the bath that was holding the soul he was cleansing, and moved to drag Dawn away from Baphomet in an attempt to save her from whatever punishment she was almost ensuring for herself talking back to him that way. Alastor froze when he saw the look on the goat's face.

Baphomet glared down at her. "I do not enjoy cruelty, demon-" His form changed. His face became human; bright blue eyes that resemble Dawn's replaced the yellow ones with rectangular slits Alastor was used to seeing and the candle that burned between his horns melted into mousy brown hair. Dawn stood stock still when he transformed into the man, her body trembling at the sight. "-but if you refuse to obey, this face may find its way into your room one night." 

Alastor grabbed Dawn's shoulders, holding her up when he saw that her knees were about to give out. Baphomet transformed back into his goat-like appearance but  Dawn didn't take her eyes off of him, silent tears spilling down her cheeks.

Alastor looked at her questioningly. Was that Preston? They looked too similar. She said that he wasn't her actual father but he didn't know who she would fear this much. She never talked much about the people she knew in life save for a casual mention of her sisters here and there. Was that the man that had her tied to that stake? More tears streamed down her face as she refused to meet Alastor's gaze.

Baphomet looked down at her, his expression harsh. "You may have the rest of the day off. I expect you to be more willing to work when you return here tomorrow." He waved her off.

Dawn dropped her head and quickly made her way to the elevator of the hospital-like building.

Alastor glared at Baphomet once Dawn was safely out of the room.

Baphomet just turned and walked away. "Return to your work, demon," he ordered as he left the room, heading to another wing to cleanse more souls.

Alastor spent the rest of the day with his head down, focused on cleansing the souls he was assigned for the day as quickly as possible. When Baphomet finally dismissed him, he went straight back to the house and up to Dawn's door. He didn't hear any sound coming from her room but decided to knock anyway. 

He heard her gasp. "Who is it?" Her voice wavered as she spoke.

"Alastor."

There was a moment of silence before he heard her bed shift. She opened the door slightly and and looked him up and down cautiously. Her face was red from what must have been hours of crying, her hair wet and her hands pruned like they were submerged in water for far too long. "How do I know it's really you?"

Alastor looked at her calmly. "You asked me if I sparkled this morning and kept calling me Edward. I've come to force you to elaborate," he said as playfully as he could while seeing her in this state. It was strange, he usually enjoyed seeing others in distress but he had grown rather fond of the woman, as infuriating as she often was.

Dawn gave him a small smile and opened the door, allowing him in. After he walked inside, she looked down the hallway, then slowly shut the door behind her. She was dressed in blue silk pajamas, the bottoms too short to cover her curves completely. Alastor quickly looked away from the exposed skin as she turned to face him. The strap on her top was too thin to cover the scab on her shoulder, a bruise surrounding it showing where his teeth had marked her. He didn't know which sight was more distracting so he decided to turn away and take a seat on the black velvet couch. 

"I was referencin' the Twilight books I was tellin' you about, the vampires sparkle. The main one's named Edward," she stated dryly, her throat a bit hoarse. She plopped down on the couch beside him, leaning her head back on the cushion and closing her eyes. 

Alastor didn't say a word as he stared at her. He didn't know if he should ask who that man was. Would she even tell him? Probably not. For someone who could look into anyone's private life, she was a very private person. She still hadn't told him why she was burnt at the stake. Though, with her church background and visions, he'd made his assumptions.

Dawn opened one eye to look at him. "You're wonderin' who that man is."

"And here I thought you weren't a mind reader," he teased lightly, attempting to lighten her mood.

She breathed a laugh and closed her eyes again. After a long pause, she sighed, "he's someone I never wanted to see again."

Alastor didn't push further. He knew that she would share if she wanted to. He valued his privacy as well. He usually didn't extend that respect to anyone else but she was the closest thing he had to a friend in this place. He found himself hoping that she could restore their memory when they get to Hell, not only because he would like his freedom, but because she may understand him better than anyone he had ever met. She had seen the darkest parts of him, as well as some of the weakest, and passed no judgment, continuing her task in freeing his soul because that was what he wanted. She only asked for kindness in return. She hadn't even mentioned freeing herself yet.

They sat in silence for a moment, not knowing what to say next. Dawn opened her eyes and slowly turned to him. "Do you mind stayin' in here tonight? I- I can take the couch. I just don't wanna be alone." 

He reached for her hand, much to both of their surprise, and squeezed it gently. "I can stay. You can sleep in your bed. I'll take the couch."

She looked down at their clasped hands, her brows furrowed. He almost pulled away, afraid he made her uncomfortable, but she interlaced their fingers and looked back up at him with an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Alastor."

He smiled softly. "Don't mention it."

Alastor left to change out of his usual dress shirt and slacks and into some cotton pants paired with a plain t-shirt. When he returned, he sat and made himself comfortable on her couch. Dawn had grabbed him some blankets from one of the hallway closets while he was away changing. She helped him to set up his makeshift bed and after Alastor had fluffed the pillows to his liking, Dawn stared down at him without making eye contact, biting at her cheek and looking confused.

He leaned his head to the side curiously. "Yes, Dawn?" 

She blinked and gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Nothin'. Goodnight, Radiohead."

He huffed a laugh and closed his eyes. "Goodnight, chérie."  

Chapter Text

Alastor continued to stay in Dawn's room most nights for the rest of their first year in Purgatory. Having gotten much more comfortable with each other, sometimes he would sleep in the bed with her, a pillow separating them. He didn't mind it, much to his surprise.

He had grown a little protective of Dawn after seeing her threatened by Baphomet all those months ago. The goat hadn't made any more outright threats to her since that day but he made comments here and there that Alastor didn't understand but he could tell through Dawn's reactions that the comments were threatening in their own way. 

After a year, they were given permission to visit Earth as ghosts once a month for a day. Dawn excitedly asked if she could take him to Texas for their first trip. He agreed, wanting to find out more about her past that she was still not completely open about. 

"Welcome to Bandera, Texas, Radiohead!"

The little town she grew up in had an old western feel to it. He half expected gunslingers in fringe to be swaggering around. There were a few people riding through the town on horseback and in large cowboy hats with guns strapped to their hips, which Alastor found amusing. He had never traveled outside of Louisiana much when he was alive, he didn't really know what to expect from a small town in Texas.

"I feel like I've found a way into the wrath ring of Hell."

Dawn giggled at that, he knew that she would understand the reference. She spent many years after her mother's death studying Hell. She had revealed about a month before that her mother had gone to Hell when she died, quickly being exterminated by angels within the first year of her death. Dawn didn't seem all that upset when talking about it, saying her relationship with her mother was complicated to say the least. They never got along much after Dawn found out that she had cheated on her father with a god. She was daddy's little girl growing up, only agreeing to keep her mother's secret because she didn't want her father to resent her for not being his own blood. 

They walked through town for a while, Dawn pointing out all of her favorite shops and restaurants that she would frequent when alive. They made their way to a more residential area, passing a southern baptist church. Her mood shifted when they passed it. The building was huge for a small town church, no doubt from Preston's following that came from her and her sister's visions. Alastor could see through the window that a service was being held, likely led by Preston. He was about to warn her that demon's weren't able to enter churches, but she didn't make any move towards the building, actively making an effort to not even look at it. 

Alastor said nothing as they continued walking through the neighborhoods. They finally made their way to an incredibly large house, a stark difference to the more suburban houses surrounding it. Dawn made her way up to the front porch, dramatically bowing while gesturing to the front door. "After you, oh so terrifyin' Radio Demon."

Alastor rolled his eyes as he walked through the solid door. The foyer of the home was not at all what he was expecting. If it was kept up with, it would have been beautiful, white marble flooring and a tall ceiling decorated with a beautiful chandelier. Dawn looked around, seemingly confused. "It's not usually this...cluttered." 

Cluttered was the perfect word to describe her home. Dust coated every surface, clearly no one was keeping up with the cleaning necessary for such a large house. Boxes upon boxes were piled up near the front door. Dawn walked up to one of the piles, her expression falling as she read the labeling. Alastor walked up behind her. Most had Dawn's name written on them, her things she left behind when she died. Dusk and Day were written on a few, her sister's. She told him that they had moved out after she died. Why did they leave behind so many of their belongings?

Dawn noticed his curiosity and quickly schooled her expression as she shrugged and walked up the stairs. Alastor walked behind her as she made her way up the spiraled staircase. "I never did ask you, who is your real father?"

She kept walking without looking back at him. "Chronos." 

He gawked at that. "The titan?"

She chuckled. "No, common mistake, though," she answered over her shoulder, "They're both greek gods that're associated with time but the titan, Kronos, spelled with a K, he ain't alive to be as promiscuous as the other gods. Got offed by his son."

"You're the daughter of a greek god? How did that come about?" He never did get answers on how Samedi and his mother came to meet, his father never made any effort to see him before or after death. Gods weren't necessarily known for their parental instincts so it came as no surprise when he learned that his father never cared to meet him.

Dawn finally turned around, leaning on the railing and looking down at him. "All mama wanted was a big family. She thought marryin' a preacher would give her that but Preston had...other tastes..." her lip curled as she forced the words out, "she prayed for more children. Chronos came to her, sayin' their child would be destined for greatness. Well, three of us popped out. Dusk says she knows which child he was referrin' to but she refused to tell me and Day which one of us is the profit child. Obviously, I've been ruled out but Day and I always thought it'd be Dusk anyway."

Alastor took a few steps up the stairs, still towering over her standing a step down. "What makes you think that you've been ruled out?"

He watched as her throat bobbed and her cheeks rushed with blood. "Well, I'm dead, so.."

Alastor smirked. "My dear, that doesn't rule anything out."

Dawn tried to mask that her breathing was picking up but Alastor saw it. Recently, she had been much more reactive to his closeness, something he found entertaining. He took any chance he could to throw her off balance. Though, he refused to acknowledge that her closeness also stirred something in him. He chalked it up to her being the only other person he was able to interact with, just loneliness, it had been a few decades since his last partner. Alastor had spent time being alone before, but he had to admit, she excited him with her strangeness. Her mystery. He had been enjoying solving the puzzle that was Dawn. She made no moves to cross that boundary with him and he was left to wonder why. He could tell that she found him attractive but she did nothing about it, actively making an effort to not let things move past simple friendship. Not much made this woman nervous, but he did. 

Alastor hadn't tasted her blood since the day of their experiment but he hadn't stopped thinking about it. He'd tasted plenty of blood, both when alive and in Hell and nothing compared to the way she tasted. The god in her blood was exhilarating. That moment in his bathroom was one of the most intimate interactions he had ever had. He had been physical with a few women, none really standing out in his mind. He had never cared for anyone he'd been with, only using them to find release in the ways that everyone else seemed to find it. It never worked and it was never as enjoyable as everyone claimed it to be. He spent most of his time in Hell actively avoiding such brutish desires. He gave it the old college try, that was where he was happily keeping it. But he found himself wondering what Dawn would sound like underneath him, what it would feel like to drink her blood while he... nope. He blinked in effort to rid his mind of those thoughts, gaining control of himself again. "Well, go on, show me to your room, chérie."

She rolled her eyes and walked up the last few steps, turning the corner. He followed and saw far too many rooms for a family of five. Well, a family of four after her mother had passed. When he walked past some of the rooms he saw nothing but mess. Clearly, Preston had not been handling the loss of all three of his daughters well. Dawn looked around curiously but said nothing as she took in the home she grew up in this mangled state. 

They walked to the end of the hallway, the last door on the right having a blue sign hanging on the door, 'Dawn's Den'. Dawn stopped in front of her bedroom door and turned to him, bowing again. "After you."

Alastor chuckled as he walked through the door. His smile fell and he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a man lying in her bed, sobbing while holding a shirt he assumed used to be Dawn's. The man Baphomet transformed into.

He was about to turn around to stop Dawn from entering but he was too late, her eyes went wide when she took in the sight. He expected the same fear to take over her expression that he saw the day that Baphomet took this man's form but he only saw anger in her eyes. Unadulterated anger.

He put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her and lead her away from the room. She swatted his hand from her and stormed over to the speaker.

"Dawn. What are you doing?"

She didn't answer him. She opened the phone plugged into the wall and furiously tapped away at it. Was she trying to text someone? She pressed a button on the speaker next to it, turning it on. It made a noise to indicate that it was attached to the phone. The man in her bed froze and snapped his head in her direction. While it was clear that he couln't see her, he looked terrified. He looked like he knew that she was there. 

Dawn pressed on the screen aggressively and a song began to play. Alastor could tell that she had forwarded through the song to get to a specific part, he heard a woman's voice finish the previous lyrics as the music began.

'If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick... Am I making you feel sick?'

The music crashed as the woman singing belts, sounding more like a desperate cry. She repeated the lyrics 'am I making you feel sick' over and over again while more cries played in the background, asking the same question. Dawn didn't take her eyes off of the man, her gaze searing through him as the song continued to play. The man fell off of the bed in a panic and got onto his knees, praying and begging Dawn for forgiveness through wheezing cries. 

The music slowed and Dawn turned to stop the song, her finger lingering over the button. She was contemplating something, though Alastor didn't know what. "Dawn?"

Her shoulders sagged as she dropped her hand, letting the song continue.

'Found you just to tell you that I made it real far... And that I never blamed you for loving me the way that you did'

The man paused, looking up at the speaker. Dawn looked back at him, now with something like pity in her eyes. She sighed as she smoothed back her copper hair and looked back over to Alastor. "Let's go."

Alastor only nodded as he took her hand and lead her through the house and out the front door. Dawn didn't look at him as they made their way through her family home nor did she make any noise. 

When they made it outside, Alastor pulled out a small bag from the satchel he was carrying. Tools to transport them back to Purgatory. He heard a hushed "psst" coming from the side of the house, like someone was trying to call their attention. He knew that it couldn't have been for them, no one here could see them, but he turned to the sound instinctively. 

Two women that looked identical to Dawn, one with blonde hair and the other with black, looked around the corner of the porch. They were holding hands with a glazed look in their bright blue eyes, the same look Dawn had when she was seeing visions. Alastor turned to look at Dawn, her face lighting up at the sight of her sisters. 

Alastor watched her excitedly make her way down the stairs and put away the bag. He knew that she missed them dearly and, while she couldn't talk to them, he knew how comforting it was to check on a loved one. He had visited his mother a few times after he passed. She was lonely with him gone. He always felt guilty for leaving her behind but she made her way to Heaven after she died. Alastor missed her but he was glad that she found peace, the poor woman deserved it. He followed Dawn down the front steps. 

"He's even prettier than I remember," the black haired one whispered to the other.

The blonde one giggled. "You should see him without a shirt on," she whispered back.

The black haired woman smirked. "Of course I've seen him without a shirt on."

They both laughed while Alastor and Dawn walked up to them. "Day! Dusk! You came!"

"Who's your friend," The blonde one asked with a knowing smile.

Dawn's shoulders dropped. "Hello! Dead sister come to visit from beyond the grave!"

The black haired one waved her off. "We've met you already. Hi, sir," she said coquettishly as she waved at Alastor.

Alastor snapped his head to Dawn with his eyes wide. "Can they see us?"

Dawn crossed her arms and leaned on one hip. "Yes and no. They can't see ghosts if that's what your askin'. Day can see visions of the present," she gestured to the blonde one, "she's just looking at what I'm doing right now, while Dusk," her hand gesturing to the black haired one, "can see visions of the future. They're holdin' hands so Day can share what she's seein'. I'm guessin' Dusk saw me comin' to visit. Y'all coulda warned me about Night cryin' in my room by the way. Thought he'd be at church with his dad this mornin'."

Night. She had never said the man's name, nor had she mentioned having a brother. The mystery of Dawn continued. 

"You needed it," Dusk said plainly.

Dawn rolled her eyes, trying to mask the pain in them. Her sisters whispered to each other before looking back to Alastor. "So you gonna introduce us to your friend or not?"

Dawn pinched the bridge of her nose. Alastor was thoroughly enjoying seeing her be teased.

She gestured to him, "this is Alastor, The Radio Demon. Alastor, these are my perverted sisters, Dusk and Day." Dawn looked back up at them, "and before y'all go on harrasin' the poor man, he ain't interested in any of us."

"And how would you know that, chérie," he asked playfully, knowing exactly how she would knww that. Dawn's cheeks turned a bright red as she refused to look at him. Alastor leaned in closer. "Dawn, did you look into my sex life?" No wonder she had been keeping her distance. She was assuming that he wouldn't be interested.

Dawn didn't answer as her sisters laughed at her. "He got your ass! And you're callin' us perverts," Dusk teased.

Dawn still didn't answer. After her sisters collected themselves, Dusk waved a hand at them. "Well go on, I know y'all got questions for me."

Alastor had many questions, but he let Dawn ask first, she knew how her sister's visions work better than he did.  "Will I be successful in gettin' Alastor's soul free."

Dusk thought for a moment. "Pretty likely. 'Bout a 60% chance."

Alastor's face lit up. He could be freed, be made more powerful than any other demon in Hell. Dawn smiled. "And what about me? Can I free my soul too?"

Dusk and Day looked at each other knowingly. "Yeah. When Hell freezes over," Dusk answered.

Dawn's expression fell. "You're sayin' it's impossible?"

Dusk kissed her teeth at her. "I didn't say it was impossible. I said when Hell freezes over."

Dawn looked at her annoyed. "You're bein' vague."

"I have to be vague or things won't go the way I want them to! You'll thank me later."

"What about me survivin' the visions when I get to Hell?" 

Dusk shrugged. "There's about a 30% chance he just kills you on sight before you can even have the chance to see anythin'."

Alastor did not like the sound of that. He didn't want anything to happen to Dawn, especially not by his own hand. His paranoia in Hell may get the better of him, Dawn being collateral for his infamous reputation. "And if I don't?"

Dusk turned to Alastor, her eyes still glazed over. "She'll likely get her memories safely, but then there's about a 5% chance your friend Vox kills her."

Alastor's eyes went wide at the sound of Vox's name. He had almost forgotten what happened the day that he disappeared.

"Vox," he heard Dawn ask. Before he was able to stop her, her eyes unfocused. When she focused back on the present her eyes still had a far away look to them. "Oh... what an unfortunate demon form." She looked up at Alastor with a smile, "you wanna know how he died?" 

Alastor appreciated that she mentioned nothing of his relationship with Vox, not wanting to think about it. "Of course." Anything he could use against him when he returned to Hell would have been greatly appreciated.

Dawn giggled. "He was an intern at a TV makin' company. One of those really big TV's dropped on his head, died for work he wasn't even gettin' paid for."

Alastor laughed, no wonder the demon was so insecure about his standing. Her attention returned to Dusk. "How do I keep my memories?"

"Blood magic," Dusk answered.

Of course! But what rune would he use? He couldn't think of any that would apply to the specific situation. He knew many healing runes as well as protective ones, but none that would apply to protecting someone's memory. Even so, what symbol would be powerful enough to counteract Baphomet's magic?

"What symbol do I use," he asked finally.

Dusk thought for a moment. "I don't know yet. You two haven't done enough studyin' for me to narrow down what would work."

Well, that was inconvenient. "Do I get blood magic in Hell," Dawn interjected.

"No," her sister answered flatly, "you'll need to borrow his magic after your memories are returned."

Alastor's throat dried up. He had never given his magic to another soul, nor was he likely to, especially not to a stranger like Dawn would be when they got to Hell. "Can't she heal me with her blood?" 

"Not unless she's in your mouth permanently," Day said suggestively. 

Alastor felt himself blush at the implication. He had to focus incredibly hard to not let his mind wander to the images of Dawn letting him drink from her continuously, getting more of a taste of the blood that he couldn't stop thinking about. Both of Dawn's sisters smirked at him with the same knowing smile that Dawn gave him when she was teasing him. Great, there was three of them.

Day looked back at Dawn, who he could feel staring at him. "We got gifts for the two of you."

She pulled out what looked like a silicone rose with no stem and held it out to Dawn. "We know you ain't gettin' any trapped in Purgatory."

Dawn's eyes bugged out of her head. "Y'all are disgustin'! Give me that!" She swiped the rose from her sister as they both giggled at her reaction. Alastor looked down at her smirking. He had been around the shops of Hell enough to know exactly what she was just gifted. She made an incredible effort not to meet his gaze.

Dusk let go of Day's hand for a moment and ran to fetch something behind the house. When she returned, she was holding a pair of brown working boots. Dawn's breath hitched as Dusk grabbed Day's hand again and handed the boots to Dawn. "You're gonna be walkin' 'round Hell a bit when you get there. Don't want you burnin' your feet on the brimstone. Preston kept these in your room after you, you know..."

Dawn cleared her throat and slowly grabbed the boots from her sister. "Thanks." 

Alastor looked down at her curiously. She still hadn't elaborated on her death, the details of how it came about she had been expertly avoiding.

"We got gifts for Alastor, too," Day teased.

"I swear to the lord above-"

"Calm down," Day interrupted, "they're just books." She dropped Dusk's hand and squatted down to pick up what looked like a very heavy bag filled to the brim with said books. Alastor smiled wide as she handed him the bag. He pulled one out, 'Blood Magic and Its Dark History'. They were helping them to restore their memories. Alastor dug through the bag some more and found a series of books, all with different colored covers, and pulled the blue one out. 'A Court of Mist and Fury'. He stared down at it confused.

"Ha! You got him ACOTAR! Oh, this is gonna be amazin'."

Alastor cocked a brow at her.

"The smutty book series I was tellin' you about."

Alastor froze at the mention of the type of books he sometimes enjoyed reading. He never really understood his fascination with the particular genre, he always compared his interest in it to the fascination most people felt when they visited a zoo. Just observing, not participating. 

All three sisters laughed at his twitching eye as he glared down at the book.

"Well, we'll leave you two to enjoy your...gifts," Day wiggled her eyebrows at them, "come to Austin next time you visit us. We don't wanna be drivin' back and forth every time you come into town and risk Preston seein' us."

Dawn nodded at them. "Until next time, Miller Sisters." She gave them a mock solute as they walked past them in a hurry.

Alastor quickly stuffed the book back into the bag with the rest and pulled the smaller bag out of his satchel again, mixing the herbs and liquids. They drank their potions and were transported back to Purgatory. 

Chapter Text

After they got back to Purgatory, Dawn decided to lay down for a nap, the emotions of the day were clearly overwhelming her. Alastor took the books he was gifted into his room and began his reading. 

After a few hours of trying, to no avail, to focus on studying the runes, he decided to head downstairs for a cup of coffee. He could use the pick-me-up. The idea of him accidentally killing Dawn when he met her in Hell had been plaguing him ever since Dusk said that it was a possibility. It was a low possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. He wouldn't recognize her and she would be asking to borrow his magic. Alastor was honestly surprised that the chances of him killing her weren't higher but 30% was still too high for his comfort.

As he made it down to the kitchen, he heard the piano in the entertainment lounge. It seemed Dawn couldn't quiet her mind either. He was surprised that she had never used the piano before, he didn't even know that she could play. Alastor enjoyed sitting and playing it after a long day of work. It helped to soothe him. Piano was something his mother taught him. His stepfather never approved of Alastor's appreciation for music, said he was too much of a sissy, that he should have a man's hobby. It didn't help that Alastor never brought any girls home when the man was still alive. Alastor put up with the man, taking his insults and his fists to the chin, until one day he raised a hand to his mother. Alastor spent a month carefully plotting his murder. After he ate the remains of his dearly departed stepfather, he was lost to the bloodlust. The catalyst to a century long obsession.

He heard Dawn's voice as she began to sing. The song had a melancholy feel to it but her voice was beautiful. Alastor quietly made his way to the lounge, wanting to hear more.

'What I wouldn't give to be in Church this Sunday... Listening to the choir, so heartfelt, all singing... God loves you, but not enough to save you'

She continued, the song lamented on the betrayal she felt from God, her scolding herself for not being stronger in life and deciding to change, to be stronger in death. Alastor wondered if she wrote it, the words were coming from a girl that was no longer alive, reminiscing on her life. He stayed silent as her voice picked up. She needed this, whatever happened between her and Night, it was clear that she needed to put those emotions somewhere. Alastor found that he wished that she would confide in him, but he wouldn't push. He wouldn't want to be pushed and she had kept her promise of staying out of his past save for seeing his taste or, rather, lack of taste in more carnal desires. That was most definitely something he would be relentlessly teasing her about when her mood was better.

'But I always knew that in the end no one was coming to save me... So I just prayed and I keep praying and praying... If it's meant to be then it will be... So I met him there and told him I believe... Singing if it's meant to be then it'll be... I forgive it all as it comes back to me'

Dawn repeated those last lines a few more times, the conclusion mentioning dancing in a house in Nebraska. If she wrote it, he wondered what house she was referring to. She stopped singing but continued playing the piano for the last bit of song before she plopped her head down on the keys, a less than pleasing group of notes sounding as she sighed heavily.

"I didn't know that you could sing."

Dawn gasped and sit up to snap her head in his direction.

Alastor smirked, seeing that he had startled her. She clutched her chest. "You scared the hell outta me, don't sneak up on me like that!" Alastor chuckled and walked over to sit down on the bench next to her. She watched him, the smile he was missing returning to her face. "I used to sing in the choir when I was a kid."

Alastor straddled the bench next to her. She scooted back to make him some room but he wasn't looking for room. He leaned in closer to her. "I like the song. Is it an original?"

"No, it's by the same girl that sang the song I played in my room. She made an album called 'Preacher's Daughter' so I had no choice but to love it."

Alastor softened his expression. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

She looked away for a second, biting at her cheek. When she looked back at him, her face remained calm but he could see the nerves that she was trying to hide. "I think I'm ready to show you my death." 

Alastor's breath hitched. She wanted to show him, to share the vision with him? He was not entirely sure he wanted to see it.

She held out her hand, "I saw yours, fair's fair."

He stared at her hand for a moment. Should he take it? He had seen plenty of death in his life but something about watching her die didn't sit right with him.

Then he remembered that he may be the cause of her death one day. The memory of seeing her die may trigger something in him, stopping him from listening to his better judgment and hearing the stranger out, even if he didn't remember the specifics as to why he should hear her out. It happened sometimes while he was in Hell, getting a strange sense of Déjà vu at the mention of Purgatory or the existence of other afterlives. Alastor took her hand. The second he did, the vision started.

Dawn was sitting in a small room hugging her knees and sobbing. Her hands were tied and she was wearing the clothes she had died in accompanied by the boots her sisters had gifted her, the back of her hair was caked in old, dried blood. The doorknob turned and a man walked into the room or, more accurately, the closet she was sitting in. The man looked like her brother, save for his brown eyes where Night had blue ones and his face wrinkled with age. The man looked down at Dawn, his expression poignant, almost apologetic.

Dawn moved to kneel in front of him, her hands held to her chest. "Please daddy, I won't tell no one. I swear. I'll leave, you'll never see me again. Please, just please let me go," she pleaded through choked sobs.

Preston furrowed his brows at her. "Who did you tell?"

"No one. I didn't tell anyone! Please!"

Preston squatted down in front of her, cupping her cheek gently. "I'm so sorry, pumpkin. You gotta understand. I have to protect Night's future, my future. The church looks up to me. I can't risk you tellin' anyone."

Dawn sniffled. "What about my future," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Preston didn't answer. The anguish in his face was apparent. When he stood back up, he roughly grabbed Dawn's arm, pulling her up with him. She tried to pull away but he didn't budge. He walked her out of the closet and down the aisle of the huge church, pulling her out the front door. 

Outside, there was a mob of people. All of them looked to Preston in horror, but they stood patiently waiting for him to speak.

"The Devil has taken my daughter," he yelled out, his voice cracking, "infected her visions with lies, lies meant to destroy what God has so graciously given me."

Dawn sobbed. "Help me, please," she begged, her voice hoarse.  No one made any move to help her, all staring at her cautiously. It became crystal clear that they listened to Preston as if he was the only voice they trusted, that he was the voice of their God. 

Preston pulled out a bottle labeled as holy water. He threw some at Dawn, she screamed as whatever chemical he mixed into the water burned her, bubbling as it ate through her skin. The crowd gasped when they saw her reaction to what they believed was simply blessed water. 

"My daughter is gone! Satan has possessed her body, usin' her as his puppet in his unholy mission to stray us off the path of righteousness! She can only speak lies! She means to deceive you! We must cleanse her soul so she may be free of Satan's influence. His puppet must be destroyed!"

Dawn screamed, "NO," and fought his grip more fervently. She nearly escaped him when the mob descended upon on her. They grabbed her roughly and began to drag her behind the church where there was a large open field covered in bluebonnets.

She kicked and screamed. "Take her boots, she's kickin' too much," a man yelled out. More hands gripped her as two men ripped her boots off and threw them out into the field.

Dawn continued to fight, the crowd that was mostly made up of men, had a hard time keeping a hold of her. One man punched the side of her head. She fell in and out of consciousness as they dragged her the rest of the way. A large stake, surrounded by logs and hay stood at the end of the field. The hoard worked to retie her hands around the stake, her head nodding as she fought to stay awake. 

"I rebuke you, Satan! You've taken my daughter from me, my daughter! May she-"

"Dad, stop," Night screamed as he ran at full speed to meet the mob in the field. "What're you doin'? You're killin' her? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Preston met him halfway and put a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm doin' this to protect you," he whispered. "She looked. She saw what you did. I'm doin' this to make up for my sins, to ask for your forgiveness." 

Night took a trembling step back, his breathing picking up. "I won't let you! This is fuckin' insane! You sick fuck!"

Preston looked to the mob, eagerly awaiting his orders. "Hold him. He has fallen for The Devil's lies. He means to stop the cleansin' of her soul! We must free him from her spell!" 

The group of men grabbed Night when he tried to run for Dawn, her head hanging but her eyes still fighting to stay open. Night screamed, "Dawn! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I don't want this!" His eyes filled with tears. 

Preston grabbed a gallon of gasoline and drenched the wood and hay that surrounded Dawn, eventually throwing some on Dawn herself. She woke up a bit more but was still fighting her body's need to be unconscious. Preston said nothing, tears falling down his cheeks, as he pulled a zippo lighter from his pocket. After he flicked it, he paused and looked up to Dawn.

Dawn picked up her head, her eyes widening when she saw the flame. She found some strength and tried to struggle from her bindings, whimpering as she saw what was coming. Preston mouthed 'I'm so sorry' before throwing the lighter into the pyre.

Dawn fought harder, her feet bleeding from kicking at the wood she stood on. The fire engulfed her and she let out a blood curdling scream. Her blue eyes turned to liquid, her red hair burned away as her body charred. The screaming stopped abruptly after a moment.

The crowd watched with sick fascination as Dawn stood completely still, waiting for death to finally take her.

Alastor nearly fell off of the bench as the vision ended. He couldn't catch his breath. Her father killed her, her brother tried to save her.

The panic overtook him as he couldn't shake the sound of Dawn screaming while she burned. He regretted taking her hand. Alastor decided in that moment, he wouldn't kill her. He couldn't. There was no way that image would simply fall away from his mind, even if he was forced to forget. 

He jumped when he felt Dawn gently cup his cheek. He stared at her wide eyed, her expression was completely calm, as if she hadn't just watched the same vision. How many times had she forced herself to relive it?

Alastor's breathing slowed as he leaned into her palm. "I'm okay, Alastor. I'm here now," she whispered. 

It was him who should be comforting her, not the other way around. He focused on calming himself, she needed him. He lowered his eyes and put his hand over hers, gently pulling it away from his face and wrapping his other hand around it. Alastor couldn't think of what to say. What was there to say? Where were your sisters? Why do you hate your brother when he was the only one who tried to save you? What did you see that doomed you to being burnt at the stake?

Dawn tilted her head to meet his gaze. "You can ask. I'll answer what I can."

Alastor sighed. "Where were your sisters?" He decided that asking about her brother and what he did could wait for another time. She showed him what she was willing to show, clearly not the entire story. 

"We had an agreement as a family. My sisters and I agreed to not look at anyone in our visions unless asked. By the time Day caved to see where I had run off to, I was already on fire. Dusk saw that Preston might come for them next, thinkin' I told them somethin' I shouldn't have, and ran off."

Alastor nodded, more so to reassure himself than anything. Her sisters would have saved her if they knew. But her brother knew and he did try to save her. "The water..."

"It's the reason I'm not a huge fan of actually being burnt by holy water," she said in a feigned playful manner.

She was so calm, why was she so calm about this? "I found a rune that masks pain. Do you think my blood magic would work?"

Dawn shrugged. "Only one way to find out." 

Alastor gave her a smile he knew didn't reach his eyes. He would like to take his mind off of her death as quickly as possible. He stood and offered her a hand. She took it and he immediately spun her around. She stared at him surprised, clearly not expecting him to dance with her. She smiled. That was what he needed, her smile.

"The singer, I like her. Would you show me more?"

Dawn ran over to the radio on the other side of the room. Baphomet had enchanted it for Alastor during his first sentence, it could play any song you wanted to hear. It was one of the only things that got Alastor through being alone there.

She whispered into it and a song played. The beginning sounded like a preacher giving a sermon but Alastor couldn't make out the words. Dawn walked back over to him. "This is the song I played in my bedroom. It's my favorite from her."

'In your basement, I grow cold... Thinking back to what I was always told... Don't talk to strangers or you might fall in love... Freezer bride, your sweet divine... You devour like smoked bovine hide... How funny, I never considered myself tough'

Dawn gave him a knowing smile at those lyrics. Was the song about being cannibalized? He tilted his head questioningly at her as they danced. She giggled. "Her boyfriend ate her after he killed her."

Alastor smiled. "How morbid," he teased.

"Thought you'd like it."

He breathed a laugh, continuing their dance. Alastor enjoyed having her close, holding her, watching her smile. Strange, he had never felt that way for another person before. He wasn't blind, he noticed how beautiful she was when they first met, but beauty had never meant all that much to Alastor. Dawn was someone he enjoyed having around, someone he genuinely cared about. He cared about Rosie, even liked to dance with her like this, but Dawn was different. He often found his thoughts wandering to what her lips would feel like on his skin, on his lips. The feel of her gripping him like she didn't ever want to let go. The nausea he felt at the idea of someone else holding her like this.

'I just wanted to be yours, can I be yours?... Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours'

Alastor rested his forehead on hers, her eyes widened at the gesture but he refused to move. They stared at each other for a long moment, slowly swaying back and forth.

"Alastor?"

"Yes, chérie?"

Dawn took a step back, still smiling up at him. "I'm real tired, I don't think I got much dance in me right now."

Alastor masked his disappointment with a small smile, not enjoying the distance she had put between them. "Are you asking me to tuck you in?"

She laughed. "No. Just sayin' goodnight...Radiohead," she smirked as she said the nickname she knew annoyed him.

He rolled his eyes, his smile growing, He couldn't help it, her smile coaxed his. "Goodnight, chérie."

Dawn looked down for a moment, a small bit of confusion peaking through her casual mask, then skipped her way out of the lounge back up to her bedroom.

Alastor dropped down onto the bench, his head in his hands. Why did he feel this way for her? Why did she push him away?

After a moment, he sighed and decided to go to sleep. His head may clear in the morning. Alastor knew better, it wouldn't, but he had no choice but to try anyway.

Chapter Text

Almost another year passed of their sentence. Dawn rarely asked Alastor to stay in her room anymore, Baphomet had finally tired of tormenting her, and Alastor's blood magic had been helping to mask the pain of the holy water. He was happy to see that she was doing better but he couldn't help but be disappointed in the space she had put between them.

Their friendship had grown, most evenings spent in the entertainment lounge singing and dancing then spending the mornings in his room studying. But that was where it stayed, just friendship. Alastor had lessened his teasing. The more he did it the more conflicted she looked and he didn't want to continue upsetting her. 

It was one of their rare days off in Purgatory. They only got two days off a month, and only one of those days they were given permission to visit Earth. Alastor had finally caved from Dawn and her sister's relentless begging and began reading the ACOTAR series. He was nearly done with the first book and failed to understand why the series was so popular. The love interest, Tamlin, was awful.

Lunchtime rolled around, so he decided to put down the frustrating book and make his way to the kitchen and cook him and Dawn something to eat. As he passed by her door, he heard a quiet noise. He froze, the gentleman in him screamed for him to just keep walking. He didn't move. Another soft moan escaped from behind her door and Alastor slowly pressed his ear to it, he could almost hear his mother scolding him for such behavior but his curiosity got the better of him. There was a quiet vibrating sound and Alastor quickly realized what she was doing in there. His cheeks warmed as he stared forward, wide eyed, and quickly resumed his journey to the kitchen downstairs.

Alastor opened the large fridge, filled with anything they could ever want, but the recipes in his mind escaped him. The only thing he could think about was the sound of Dawn's moaning. The image of her breathing heavy as pleasure consumed her. What it would feel like to coax those sounds from her himself. 

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind of those thoughts. She had made it clear that was not what she wanted from him. Many a not-so-subtle hint being turned down had made the possibility non-existent.

Alastor sighed and decided to make a simple sandwich, he would have most definitely burned anything he tried to cook at the moment. 

Dawn eventually made her way downstairs, her demeanor completely normal. How often did she feel the need to do that?

Alastor was leaning on the counter, hardly enjoying his lunch, as he did anything but make eye contact with her.

He saw her drop her head to the side out of the corner of his eye. "You alright, Al?"

He snapped his head to her, a sorry excuse for a casual smile on his face. She was wearing a short nightgown. She was often in more revealing nightwear, something Alastor usually appreciated as respectfully as he could muster, but that day she was wearing red. Of course the little witch was wearing his signature color when he was making an incredible effort to not claim her for himself officially. "Just dandy," he answered flatly. 

Her eyebrows knitted together. "You sure?"

Alastor nodded his head too enthusiastically, "mhm."

Dawn's confused expression didn't leave her face as she cautiously eyed him while she opened the fridge. He thanked the heavens when her attention finally turned to grabbing some food for herself. The relief was short lived as she bent over to reach for something, her skirt riding up ever so slightly. 

Alastor quickly pushed himself off of the counter and threw away the remains of his hardly eaten sandwich. "Enjoy your lunch, chérie. I will be in my room if you need me." 

Dawn stood back up, holding some leftovers of the jambalaya he made for their dinner the night before. She narrowed her eyes. "You're bein' weird. What's wrong?"

He couldn't think of one of his usual witty responses. What was wrong? Oh nothing, just that the dress wasn't torn to shreds by his hand. Or perhaps that she was standing up straight when he wanted her bent over the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Nothing, my dear. Why would something be wrong?"

She looked him up and down. Could she see the heat in his cheeks, the discomfort in how stiff he was standing, the focus in his gaze to not let his eyes wander? She shrugged and moved past him to reheat her food. "I'll meet you up there after I eat."

Alastor nodded and, too quickly, walked out of the kitchen and back up to his room. Once inside, he let out a breath he didn't know that he was holding. What was the woman doing to him? No one had ever made him feel like that before. Perhaps she really was a witch and had put some awful spell on him. He took off his glasses to rub his face, deciding that a shower should help distract him. He needed to collect himself before she finished her lunch. 

The shower did nothing to soothe him, he only found himself wishing that she were there with him. His need was becoming painful. All he wanted was for it to go away. 

Without any thought his hands wrapped around himself, the sound of Dawn moaning playing over and over in his mind. He braced a hand on the shower wall and stroked himself, the image of her curves hardly being covered by the thin fabric of her dress, what it would sound like if she was crying out his name. He let out a shuddering breath when he finished. Regret hit him immediately, his thoughts only wandering to what it would feel like if it were her hands wrapped around him, her mouth, her... fuck. He groaned and left the shower.

He dried himself off and dressed in some loungewear before walking to the couch where 'A Court of Thorns and Roses' sat bookmarked on the small coffee table. As much as the romance in the novel wasn't doing much for him, now was not the time to continue with that particular story. Dawn had warned him that it 'didn't get good' until the second book but at that point, Alastor needed to take his mind off of the subject completely. He decided to continue his research with the books her sisters gave them. They still hadn't narrowed down exactly which rune would protect their memories. Protecting Dawn and freeing his soul would take his mind off of his stubborn imagination.

Dawn joined him in his room as she said she would after she finished her lunch. They spent most of the day studying blood magic, sharing notes and making their lists for Dusk to look at next time they visited Earth.

Alastor had successfully taken his mind off of the sinful things he would like to do to her by the time it was time for dinner. He offered to cook for them, having failed to make lunch in his hurry to get to reading. Dawn knew how to cook, she offered to make them meals often, but Alastor insisted. He always said that it was the least he could do in return for the work she was putting in to free his soul. In all honesty, he liked to take care of her, to see the appreciation for him in her eyes with every bite. He promised that it would be something simple that night to ease the guilt she had no need for.

He kept his promise and made them biscuits and gravy while she took a quick shower. Alastor was always making her foods he grew up eating, tonight he decided to make something she would've likely enjoyed; a small southern breakfast. She'd mentioned many times that breakfast foods were her favorite.

Dawn met him downstairs after her shower, her plate already made and waiting for her at her seat at the table. Her breath hitched when she saw what was on the plate, a somber look in her eyes.

Alastor's brows furrowed. "Dawn?"

Her attention snapped to his, her bad habit of masking her moods attempting to rear its ugly head but Alastor could always tell when she was upset. She could have been wearing the brightest smile and Alastor would have no problem seeing exactly what she was hiding underneath.

"Alastor," she asked playfully.

Alastor got up from the table and walked over to her. "What's wrong?" 

She looked up at him, her eyes darting away from his in an attempt stop him from seeing through her.

"Do you not like the meal? I could make something else."

"No," she answered too quickly, dropping her gaze. "I mean... no, I'm just not that hungry."

He used the knuckle of his finger to lift her head. "Tell me what's wrong."

She sighed. "It's...it was my favorite. Preston made it for our birthday every year."

It slipped Alastor's mind often just how close her and Preston were when she was growing up, how her heart ached when she was reminded that the man that she loved and trusted the most was the man that had her brutally executed. He still hadn't been given an answer as to why he killed her but where he always expected hatred from her, there was nostalgia, longing. Dawn mourned her relationship with him more than she mourned her lost chance at life. He may have not been her blood but she never cared, that was her father until the day that he betrayed her. 

Alastor cupped her chin and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "What would you like instead?"

Dawn leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. "I think I just need to go to bed," she whispered.

"I will get rid of it. Go rest, chérie."

She looked up at him, appreciation in her eyes. "Thank you, Al. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

She sighed again and walked back to her room. Alastor did as promised and disposed of any trace of the meal, taking it far away from the house instead of just simply throwing it away. He hated seeing Dawn upset, he hated to cause that upset even more. The thought of killing her continued to torture him. She was doing so much for him, risking so much for him. If Baphomet found out what they were doing, he would have most definitely killed her. If she were to die in Hell, he would regret every frown, every tear that fell from her beautiful blue eyes. She wouldn't have any more of that, she was spending what may be the last few years of her existence in contentment.

Alastor got back to the house and chose to just reheat dinner for himself. Jambalaya was his favorite anyway. After he finished his meal, he headed upstairs to study his books some more. They may still have had five more years, but he was getting desperate. He would relax when he knew that Dawn was safe.

As his hand reached the handle of his bedroom door, he heard Dawn's voice, "Al?"

Alastor spun on his heel to look at her. Dawn was leaning outside her door, biting her lip nervously.

"Yes, chérie?"

"Do you think... could you stay in here tonight? If not that's okay, I just-"

Alastor had to work hard to hide the excitement in his voice. "Of course." 

Dawn smiled as he walked into her room. She grabbed a pillow from her couch and placed it in the middle of her bed. Alastor would never touch her if she didn't want him to but he hated that damn pillow blocking him off from her. 

Alastor shut off the lights and laid down next to her, falling asleep easily to the sound of her steady breaths. 

*****

Hours later, Alastor was woken by a small sound coming from Dawn's side of the bed. He slowly turned to face her. She was sitting up, her head buried into her knees that she was hugging tightly to her chest. He heard her trembling breaths as she tried to choke down her sobbing. 

Dawn noticed his movement and faced him, the blue in her eyes more prominent being surrounded by the redness where it should have been white. "Sorry. I was tryin' not to wake you."

Alastor took the pillow separating them and threw it off of the bed, beckoning her to come lay with him. She did. He held her tight as she let out the sobs she was so desperately trying to hold back. He felt that his shirt was absolutely drenched in her tears. "What's wrong, chérie?"

Dawn took a few deep breaths, collecting herself so that she could force the words out. "I just miss havin' my dad."

His heart broke at her confession. Alastor never had a father, not unless his stepdad counted. He never liked the man, but he loved his mother. What would it have felt like if she had betrayed him the way that Preston betrayed Dawn? He didn't know if he could take that sort of pain. Alastor hugged her tighter, kissing the top of her head. "I know, darling."

Dawn cried harder. Alastor didn't know how long he held her while she cried but eventually she fell asleep in his arms, sleep taking him soon after.

*****

The whiteness of Purgatory brightened, the light peaking through her curtained windows. Alastor woke up to a still sleeping Dawn, tucked into his chest. He stared at her, she looked so peaceful, a stark contrast to the anguish she was feeling the night before. He wanted to keep it this way forever. 

Alastor tucked a rogue hair behind her ear so that he could get a better view. Dawn stirred at the movement and slowly opened her eyes. Alastor pressed his forehead to hers. "Are you feeling better?"

She gave him a soft smile. "Much. Thank you."

"You've no need to thank me."

Dawn's eyes flicked between his own, he caught her taking a quick glance at his lips. He could feel his heart rate picking up at the sight. After a long moment of staring, Alastor decided to throw caution to the wind and slowly moved his lips to hers. She didn't stop him, in fact, she met him half way. The relief that Alastor felt when their lips met was incomparable. 

His hand moved to grip her hair. He used his tongue to part her lips, wanting to taste more of her. Dawn pressed her chest to his and he moaned into her mouth. Her hand gripped the back of his neck firmly, not wanting him to move. He would never. His hand moved to grip her hip and used his to grind into her, closing the remaining space between them. 

Dawn put a hand to his chest and pulled away. "Wait, Alastor." 

Alastor loosened his grip but didn't let go completely. Did he do something wrong? Did she not want this? He didn't trust his voice at the moment so he just stared at her with a worried look. 

"I don't wanna be another one of your toys, Al. Just convenient 'cause it's only you and me here."

So that was why she never made any move to deepen their relationship. She didn't just see that he hardly ever participated in sex, she saw that the women he did decide to bed, he never spoke to again. Simple flings born of necessity and convenience.

"You could never be just a toy."

She cocked a skeptical brow at him. "Alastor, you have a habit. You've never-"

"No, I haven't," he interrupted firmly, "but I care about you, Dawn. I could never just throw you away." His face hardened, needing to get through to her. If she didn't want to be physical with him, he would live, but she needed to know that she would never be anything meaningless to him.

The conflicted look he had done his best to not inflict on her within the past year returned to her face. He watched her war with herself mentally. He could tell that she wanted to believe him but was hesitant. She thought that he was just using her to get what he needed, not caring what she needed. His expression softened. "Would you let me prove it to you?"

Dawn narrowed her eyes. "How?"

Alastor smiled as he decided exactly how he wanted to show her. "Where is your rose, chérie?"

Her eyes widened as her cheeks turned a bright red. "My...my what?"

"Oh, I know you know what," he teased.

Dawn swallowed hard. "It's...it's in the drawer behind you," she barley choked out. 

Alastor kissed her forehead and rolled over to open the drawer, pulling out the toy and turning back to her. "Show me how it works."

She did, nervously pointing at the hole in the middle of the silicone pedals and explaining what it did. She turned it on for him and adjusted the speed of the vibrations to where she liked it.

Alastor had no clue what he was doing but he always had a talent for reading people. He knew what buttons to press to get whatever reaction he was looking for. He hoped that this wouldn't be much different. He would be able to tell that he was doing everything correctly... right? 

Alastor hid his lapse in confidence as he pressed his lips to hers again, pushing her into the bed so that she was lying on her back. He climbed on top of her, her knees on either side of his hips. "Relax, chérie," he whispered into her lips. 

She did as he said the best she could, her breathing still heavy. Alastor kissed her softly as the hand that was not holding the toy slowly moved down her body, stopping just where her dress ended. He gently lifted the fabric to sit above her hips and cupped his hand over her underwear. He nearly lost all the control he had over himself when he felt her desire seeping through it but he kept a hold on himself. This was for her, not him.

Dawn moaned into his lips as he rubbed her over the fabric and slowly moved it to the side. He teased at her entrance with his fingers until she was whimpering for him. That seemed to be a very good indicator.

Alastor slipped two fingers inside, hooking them and finding the sensitive spot that caused her hips to buck. He continued the motion and kissed her deeply, wanting to taste the moans that she sang for him. She was very responsive to his touch. Every twitch, every little sound she made, was building his confidence bit by bit.

It didn't take long before she was whispering his name like a prayer. Alastor could listen to that sound all day. She spilled over the edge with a loud cry. He felt her pulse around his fingers and he couldn't help but imagine what that would feel like around his cock. That would have to wait until he was convinced that she knew exactly what she meant to him.

Alastor guided her down from her climax and removed his fingers, licking them clean. He crashed his lips back into hers, letting her taste herself. She moaned into his mouth again, her breath trembling. Alastor braced the hand on the pillow next to her, taking the toy in his other and suctioning it to her sensitive clit. She cried out and threw her head back. 

Alastor added more pressure, not taking his eyes off of her. "Look at me, chérie," he pleaded breathily. He needed to see that he was doing everything right, needed to know that she was enjoying herself.

She listened, staring at him with wide eyes as she fought to not let them flutter closed. He smiled.

She whimpered. Her brows scrunched and her mouth fell open. "Oh, fuck," she moaned.

Alastor leaned in closer, his lips brushing hers. "Language," he teased. 

Dawn attempted to laugh but she didn't have a breath to spare through shuddering moans. She tumbled over the edge again and Alastor could feel her legs shaking on either side of him.

He turned the toy off and threw it behind him. He would much rather be the cause of her pleasure, not some toy. Alastor decided that she would never need that thing again.

She closed the gap between their lips, her hands desperately gripping his shirt in an effort to pull it off of him. Alastor grabbed her wrists, pinning them together with one hand and pulled away from their kiss to look her in the eye. "I'm not finished."

"Alastor, please," she begged between breaths.

He smiled at that. He would have loved for nothing more than to give in to her begging, his pants were getting uncomfortably tight, but he wasn't convinced she quite understood what he was trying to tell her. "One more, chérie."

She gasped when he kissed her jaw and trailed his lips down her neck, biting her ear on his way down. Alastor trembled when his lips were on the crook of her neck, remembering what laid underneath. He felt her quickening pulse under his lips and with great effort he continued his trail of kisses down her body, only letting his teeth scrape her lightly.

Alastor kissed the inside of her thighs, playfully biting down on the second, making her yelp. He chuckled into her leg and moved to lick at her core, the pleasure still dripping from it. Once he was sure that he had lapped up every drop, he suctioned his lips onto her swollen clit.

She cried out for him again. He could not get enough of his name on her lips. His hands wrapped around her thighs and his nails dug in. The taste of her, it was divine.

She whimpered and gripped his hair, the pain sending a rush of pleasure through him. He moaned into her. It seemed that the vibrations of his moan brought her over the edge, letting him taste more of her.

She was so sensitive. Did he say one more? He lied. This was all too entertaining. He continued licking her clit while he released one of her thighs and slid his fingers into her again. Dawn's nails dug deeper into his scalp, her thighs threatened to burst his head open -and what a way to go that would be. She screamed his name and finished for him again.

Alastor finally crawled back over her, there were tears streaming down her face. He kissed her softly. "Shh," he cooed, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

Dawn looked up at him, a desperate look in her eye. "Please," she begged him once more.

"As you wish, chérie." Hearing her desperate need for him was almost too much. He was trembling, ecstatic that he was doing a good job.

Alastor helped her take the dress off over her head, mirroring the movement to take his shirt off. He then gently slid her underwear down her legs and threw them off the bed, his pants following close behind. Alastor stared down at Dawn's naked body. She was perfectly proportioned, symmetrical and lean. She looked as though she was sculpted by the gods. He supposed in a way, she was. "You're perfect," he breathed. She blushed for him in response.

He positioned himself at her entrance and leaned down to kiss her cheek softly. "Don't hold back, chérie, I need to hear you sing," he whispered into her ear.

Dawn nodded her head in understanding before Alastor pushed into her slowly, letting her adjust to his length inch by inch until he was completely inside of her.

Alastor groaned at the feel of her, the look of pleasure in her eyes, the gasp she let out when he surrounded himself with her. He nearly finished right then and there but he refused to disappoint. She was not his toy, she would never just be his toy.

Dawn wrapped her legs around him and grabbed both sides of his face, pulling his forehead to hers. Alastor gripped the sheets next to her in an effort to collect himself as he slowly thrusted in and out of her.

She whimpered for him again. He picked up the speed ever so slightly but his thrusts became more forceful. She moaned louder with every thrust. Alastor couldn't take it, he shoved his head into her neck and bit down. She cried out but gripped the back of his head, keeping him there. This woman would be the death of him. 

He cradled the back of her head as he continued to thrust into her desperately, sucking down on her neck. He wished he had the rows of sharp teeth that his demon form kept, his human teeth hardly broke skin.

Dawn's breathing picked up and Alastor could tell that she was close again. He grunted into her neck when he felt her finish around him. The pulsing feeling was better than he could have ever imagined. He finished shortly after her, slowing his thrusts as he spilled into her. 

Alastor lifted his head and looked into her eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment, taking heavy breaths. She looked so beautiful, her face flushed, her eyes red from crying out with pleasure. Alastor pressed his forehead to hers. "Do you believe me now?"

Dawn looked away, pretending to think about it. "I don't know, maybe I need some more convincin'," she said playfully, her breathing heavy.

Alastor's gaze darkened. "Don't tempt me little witch."

She blushed at the nickname. "Alright, fine. I believe you. I don't know if I could handle any more."

Alastor pulled out slightly, then bucked into her once more making her whimper quietly. "I don't know, I think you could handle one more," he teased.

Dawn's eyes widened as she pressed a finger to his chest, pushing him away from her. "I'm never believin' you when you say one more ever again."

He chuckled and slowly rolled off of her. She tucked herself into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, making small circles on her back with his thumb.

As they lay there in comfortable silence, Alastor realized that there was no going back. The way he felt about her, he couldn't pretend it that was just simple friendship anymore. It was much more than that and he was already too far gone to care about what that meant for him, for his fate. 

Chapter Text

The floodgates were opened. Alastor found it incredibly difficult to keep his hands off of Dawn. He didn't know if there was a surface in the house that he hadn't taken her and her neck was covered in bruises at all times. The first day that Baphomet noticed them, he gave Alastor a warning. He told him to not get attached, she would die before he returned to Purgatory. Alastor was still holding out hope that he would recognize the woman he cared for when he met her in Hell but even without that hope, the warning was far too little and far too late.  

Dawn decided that the next visit to Earth would be for New Orleans. She insisted that her sisters would live if they were to go one month without visiting, she wanted to experience Mardi Gras. Alastor couldn't conceal his excitement, he missed New Orleans. He may not have had anyone there to visit anymore but he was interested to see just how much had changed in the last ninety years. The entire week before their trip he asked Dawn to look at what was still around these days, any of his old haunts? Surprisingly, many still stood. 

When they arrived in New Orleans on Fat Tuesday, the streets were crowded. Luckily, Alastor and Dawn didn't have to squeeze in between people to get anywhere as they could simply just walk through them. Dawn's eyes brightened as she took in the sights of his home. He knew that she had seen it in visions but seeing it in person was an experience of its own. The streets were cluttered in beads and streamers as people drunkenly tripped over the debris, tarot readers took up every corner and tourists in masks excitedly took pictures of the city.

It was close to nightfall, they wanted to spend their 24 hours on Earth enjoying all the festivities. Dawn begged Alastor to take her to Bourbon Street, he agreed but almost immediately regretted not talking her out of it. When they rounded the corner of Royal Street, getting a clear view of the famous street, they saw a man spilling his guts onto the pavement on one side of the road and another openly urinating on the other side. Drunk men and woman barely held themselves up, stumbling past the barriers in the road. 

Dawn's face crumpled, the smell was unbearable. Alastor looked down at her. "Anywhere else you would like to visit?" 

She schooled her expression. "Nope! I never got to do Bourbon, you're dealin'."

Alastor chuckled and walked with her past the degenerates spilling bodily fluids onto Toulouse and onto Bourbon.

Most people seemed to just run into each other rather than make the effort to walk around anyone, there were purple, green, and gold decorations on almost every surface and there was not a space on any of the balconies that was not taken up by men holding handfuls of beads practically salivating as they watched the women on the street below lift their shirts for them. 

Alastor's eyes widened at the casual nudity, making Dawn clutch her stomach laughing. "Whoops! Forgot to warn you 'bout that particular trend."

He slowly turned to look at her, his lip curled. "What trend?"

"They're earnin' their beads." 

Alastor turned to face the scene again. The men were dropping beads down to the bare chested women, whom excitedly grabbed them from the air.

Dawn sighed. "I always wanted to earn some beads for myself."

He stiffened. "Absolutely not!"

She giggled at his offense, making him roll his eyes and chuckle right back. "Well go on, chérie, let the good times roll." 

Dawn squealed and ran down the street, trying to find a bar that she deemed the most exciting. Of course, the one that called to her the most was named 'Boot Scootin Rodeo'. She turned around to him and nodded her head towards the door with the biggest smile on her face. Alastor chuckled as he walked in with her. He watched as her eyes immediately landed on the mechanical bull. She gasped. "You have to find a way to let me ride it."

The bar was crowded for a Tuesday, but that was to be expected for Mardi Gras. Alastor looked at the line of women waiting for their turn on the bull, his eyes landing on the man controlling the machine. He could figure it out, the controls didn't look complicated. "Let me show you something, chérie." She tilted her head as she watched him stroll up to the man. He took a deep breath, it had been a long while since he had possessed someone but Dawn wanted to ride the bull, so ride the bull she shall. 

Possession wasn't simply stepping into a person's body and using it as a puppet, it was more like becoming the devil on their shoulder. They would leave the experience not understanding what exactly motivated their actions and usually blamed it on a temporary lapse in judgement. 

Alastor walked into the man, clouding his thoughts. Looking over to Dawn, she was bouncing on her toes with an excited smile taking over her expression. Alastor immediately got to work, convincing the man to control the bull with no one on it. The woman that just failed at her attempt to hold on bounced on the ground of the soft ring and laughed her way back to the bar with her friends. The operator turned to the women waiting, putting out a hand to stop the next in line from entering the ring. "Hold on ladies, gotta do a test run."

Dawn ran into the ring, passing through the padded barrier, and hopped up onto the bull with ease. It was immediately clear that this was nowhere near her first ride. Alastor's grin darkened. He was going to do everything in his power to throw her across the room. She couldn't see him thankfully, hiding in the mind of the operator, so she had absolutely no idea what was coming for her. Alastor whispered to the man to give the test ride everything he had.

The operator turned the key and the bull slowly started to buck and spin. All of the controls on the box were clearly labeled. Alastor eyed the red button labeled 'ambush'. He convinced the man to press it. No lead up was needed, there was no one on the bull. The operator obliged. The bull quickly picked up the speed of its spinning, violently stopping and switching directions. Dawn's grip tightened as her smile widened.

She was infuriatingly good at this, her hips moving with the motion of the bull easily, her torso moving to the opposite motion. She brought her chest closer to the bull at every turn as if she knew exactly what was coming. "That all you got, Radiohead," she yelled out. 

Alastor convinced the operator to start using the manual controls. He flipped the switch labeled 'manual'. The man's hand gripped the joystick and he started to expertly move it to each of the actions.

Dawn's eyes widened when the bucking and spinning became more random. "Shit!"

Alastor laughed as her movements became more desperate, less practiced. Her focus locked on the bull as she fought with everything she had just to stay on. The joystick continued mercilessly being controlled by a man that believed he was simply testing the limits of the machine.

It took much longer than Alastor expected, but eventually she lost her grip and was thrown off, meeting the inflatable wall of the ring with a loud scream. He laughed again as he whispered to the man that the bull was in peak condition before stepping out his mind. 

Dawn sat up, laughing uncontrollably. "You're an asshole." Alastor walked up to her, offering a hand to help her up off the ground. She stood and gestured to the bull, "your turn, Radiohead."

Alastor chuckled. "Not in your wildest of dreams."

Dawn scoffed and walked with him to the bar. The bartenders were all out of breath, running wildly to take orders and make drinks for the drunk tourists. Alastor snuck behind the bar to grab a bottle of whiskey and took it back up to Dawn.

She looked at the bottle incredulously. "Rye?"

"Don't tell me you prefer bourbon."

She smiled. "I prefer tequila, actually." 

Alastor's lip curled, he had tried tequila a few times and nothing good ever happened when anyone drank the stuff.

"Oh come on! Let's pour a little tequila and see what happens."

Alastor relented. He returned the rye and grabbed a bottle labeled 'Casamigos'. Home friends? Alastor shrugged and grabbed them two shot glasses. Dawn excitedly took the bottle from his hand and poured them each a shot before handing Alastor his. He stared down at the clear liquor, the smell alone almost made him gag. "No salt?"

Dawn rolled her eyes and reached into the garnishes on the bar top to grab him a lime. "Baby."

Alastor narrowed his eyes at her as he took the lime. She held up her shot and he brought his to meet hers. "Laissez les bons temps rouler," he cheered. She slammed her glass on the bar next to her and threw the shot back, hardly reacting to the taste. Alastor followed her lead and took his own shot. The vanilla taste threw him off immediately, followed by the horrible taste that went along with any tequila. He coughed after forcing himself to swallow, quickly bringing the lime to his teeth. 

Dawn nearly fell to the ground laughing. "Christ, Al! It can't be that bad!"

Alastor took a moment but eventually he collected himself. "I'm grabbing the rye," he muttered.

They spent the rest of the night drinking from their individual bottles and exploring the rest of the French Quarter. The parade floats were all decorated with lewd statues and decor, the people walking in the parades throwing beads and other nicknacks to the people cheering on the sidewalks. As the night progressed, the more Alastor's hands began to wander. He could hardly take it anymore. "Would you like to see the woods I died in, chérie?"

Dawn looked at him, poorly masking her overflowing excitement. "You know damn well I do!" Her Texan accent was already thick but it somehow became even more prominent the more she drank. Alastor knew that even his Louisiana accent was starting to sneak its way into his speech. It was an accent that he had worked very hard to lose since starting his radio show when he was alive. Audiences tended to be more receptive to the more popular transatlantic dialect at the time, so that was the accent he chose for himself. 

Alastor smiled and grabbed her hand, leading her out of the city and towards the woods he frequented when alive. He hadn't been since his last visit while he was in Purgatory. The trees were far more damaged than he remembered. He tilted his head curiously.

"It's from that hurricane they had a few years back." 

"Hm," Alastor shrugged and lead Dawn through the trees.

They walked in silent wonder as they took in the quiet woods. "Bein' led into the woods by a vampire. Shouldn't I be runnin'?"

Alastor smirked down at her. "Careful, chérie. I would most definitely catch you and I would not be gentle about it either."

Dawn bit her lip. "I'd like to see you try."

Before he could answer, there was an elbow in his gut. He grunted as his glasses fell to the ground. Dawn took off, sprinting into the woods. Alastor's gaze darkened as he picked his glasses up off the ground. He smiled wickedly, if the little witch wanted a chase, a chase is what she would get. The poor thing seemed to have forgotten that these woods were more than just where he hid the remains of his victims, they were his hunting ground as well.

Alastor righted his glasses and casually strolled into the woods, listening for any rustling. He heard a branch snap to his right, his head snapping to the direction of the sound. Dawn let out a small gasp as he walked towards her. When he got close to where she was hiding, Dawn let out a quiet squeal as she jumped out, running away. Alastor ran after her, catching up to her easily. 

The second he got to her, he grabbed her wrist. His other hand gripping at her hair as he bent her arm to pin it behind her, pulling her back to his chest. "Caught you, little witch," he whispered into her shoulder before biting down hard.

Dawn sighed and let out a small moan. Alastor's resolve completely broke, he spun her around to kiss her fervently. She followed suit, unbuttoning his shirt, refusing to let her lips separate from his. Alastor felt the same desperation to keep their mouths locked together so he tore her shirt open with a rough pull, not wanting to spare a second to pull it over her head. He shrugged off his shirt as she fumbled with his belt, eventually ripping it from the loops. Her hand reached into his pants and released his already hard cock.

Alastor moaned and finally broke the kiss to throw his head back and groan when she started stroking him. She wore a short skirt, thank the heavens.

He grabbed her roughly and pinned her to the nearest tree, crashing his lips back to hers. He grabbed the back of each of her thighs and she jumped up as he lifted her to wrap her legs around him.

He quickly found that she had decided to forgo wearing anything under her skirt, he was too busy trying to throw her across the room to notice that little fact when she was riding the bull. 

He lined himself up at her entrance, finding that she was already dripping wet. He nearly growled when he brought her down to take him fully.

He desperately thrusted into her, the bark of the tree ripping at her back. She cried out, her eyes watering from the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He felt her nails clawing at his back and shuddered. What would that feel like when she had sharp talons instead? He groaned, the pain she gave him was divine and he wanted to return this wonderful favor to her.

Alastor continued rutting into her as he bit her neck again, quickly realizing that her back had begun to bleed. His eyes widened at the shock of it. 

The blood. It was just inches from him.

His movements paused for a moment, his body shaking, while he attempted to gain his composure. Dawn's heavy breaths filled his ear.

"You can have some," she whispered. Alastor's knees nearly gave out hearing those words. The ambrosial blood that had been driving him mad was being offered to him.

Alastor's nails dug into her thighs as his mouth moved from her neck to her shoulder. She shuddered as his tongue dragged across her skin, only a small bit of blood reaching his tastebuds. Just as he remembered, she tasted heavenly. 

His vision went red. The lust he was feeling was a dangerous mix of both blood and desire. He hardly had any control of himself - he was lost to it.

Dropping her to her feet he twisted her around to face the tree. With a hand gripping the back of her neck, he bent her over and drove himself into her. The height difference was a bit awkward but he didn't care. The blood dripping down her back knocked him from his senses.

She cried out as he leaned over her, lapping up the blood scabbing up on her back. His name was the only thing that left her lips for the next few minutes. He groaned against her skin. Something deep within in dug its claws into the sound of it. He trembled at the idea that he could hear it any time he pleased - and he would never get enough of it. 

With a loud moan, his voice cracking, he came in her. Her walls squeezed around him, milking him of everything he had.

His vision came back to him, the situation no longer some feral fever dream but real life again. 

He slowly regained his control, his hand gripping her hip and rubbing slow circles around her thigh and backside. He gently kissed her shoulder blades while they both took in labored breaths.

After a moment of catching her breath, she spun around to face him, pressing her face into his chest.

His arms were instantly wrapped around her and he kissed her forehead gently while he rubbed her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, Alastor comforting her while they both caught their breath.

"Did you enjoy Mardi Gras, chérie?'

Dawn laughed into his chest. "Much more than I expected."

He smiled and pulled her to him tighter. "Good. Are you ready to go home?"

She nodded, too exhausted to speak anymore.

Alastor grabbed his discarded shirt from the ground and helped her into it. There may have been no one there to see them but he still felt unnerved at the idea of someone venturing this far into the woods while she stood here, practically naked with nothing but her pulled up skirt to cover her. They took their potions and appeared in front of their house in Purgatory, hurrying to get inside.

Once inside, Alastor smirked as he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other under her knees. She gasped when he picked her up, staring at him surprised. He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and carried her up the stairs and into his room. 

Alastor set her down gently. "Take off your clothes and wait here, chérie."

Dawn did as she was told while Alastor filled the tub with steaming water. After he turned off the spout, he walked back out to Dawn, still waiting patiently. He took her hand and guided her towards the tub, keeping a hold of it to steady her while she stepped in. Alastor took his pants off and got in after her, sitting behind her with her back to his chest.

She flinched slightly when he made contact with the open wounds on her back. Alastor gently used the water to clean them.

Once cleaned, he kissed her shoulder as he carefully brought her back to lay on him. He would draw a rune on her once they were out of the tub.

Alastor rested his chin on her head as he held her. She let out a pleased sigh as she relaxed into him.

He pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent. Black roses, the ones that Rosie always kept around her shop. He did always enjoy the smell. "Are you alright?" He was much rougher with her than usual. It seemed like she enjoyed it but now that his head was cleared and he remembered that the wounds on her back were very much his fault, guilt began to eat at him.

Dawn turned her head to him, he looked down at her with a worried expression but she was wearing a soft smile. "I'm alright, Al. No need to worry 'bout me."

"Are you sure?"

She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to pull his head closer to hers and kissed his cheek. "I goaded a serial killer into chasin' me through the woods he used to kill people in. I was lookin' for trouble," she teased before her face softened. "You woulda stopped if I told you to. I trust you and I know you'd never actually hurt me. I had fun," she answered genuinely.

Alastor sighed, relief flooding through him. He pressed his forehead to hers and smiled. Her reassurance meant so much more to him than he ever thought it could. "Thank you, chérie."

Dawn smiled back at him. "Anytime, Radiohead."

He breathed a laugh and brought his lips down to meet hers. They sat in comfortable silence for a long while before finally deciding to head to bed to get in a few hours of sleep before going back to work the next day.

Luckily, Alastor found some runes specifically for hangovers so they at least did't have that to worry about that when they woke up. 

He drew the rune to heal her back and held her as they both fell asleep easily, the excitement of the day hitting them all at once.

Chapter Text

Alastor woke up the next morning to an empty bed. He sat up quickly and looked around his room. The bathroom light was on and he could hear the shower running behind the door. Strange, him and Dawn bathed together the night before. He stretched with a loud groan, it seemed they slept in a bit. They wouldn't be late as long as Dawn didn't take too long in the shower. Alastor chuckled, she always took too long in the shower. He had no idea how she spent so much time in there but he liked to hear her sing her little heart out until the water ran cold.

There was no singing coming from the bathroom. Maybe she didn't want to wake him. Well he was awake now, may as well join her.

Alastor hopped up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. The room was barely visible through the thick layer of steam that fogged up his glasses so horribly he had to do without them. How hot did she have the water? He heard a quiet sniffle from behind the fogged glass. His breath hitched. She was crying. 

He made his way to peak around the glass. Dawn was naked, her head tucked into her knees and her skin was a bright red. The redness looked to be both from the water burning her skin and her scraping at it with the abandoned loofa that sat on the ground next to her. Her hands and feet were pruned heavily. How long had she been in there?

Alastor quickly removed his shirt and pants, only his undershorts to cover him, and stepped into the shower to kneel down in front of her. "Dawn?"

She didn't answer him. Her nails gripped her shins harder, threatening to break skin, as she sobbed into her knees.

Alastor's expression worried as he slowly moved closer to her. He sucked his teeth when the water burned him. How was she just sitting there like this? He reached past her to shut off the boiling water.

Dawn finally looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot and puffy, her lip quivering as she choked on her sobs. "I can still feel him. Why can I still feel him?"

Alastor gently used his hands to hold each side of her face and rubbed his thumbs over her tears. "Still feel who, chérie?" He was doing his best to stay calm but he knew that his voice was wavering. Seeing her like this broke him, he would have done anything to take the pain from her. 

Dawn took a few shaking breaths as she looked to the ground, removing Alastor's hands from her face with the movement. "Night."

Alastor tilted his head in an effort to meet her gaze but her eyes stayed firmly locked on the tile of the shower. "What do you mean?"

She sighed as she closed her eyes, attempting to gather herself. She didn't need to do that, he just wished that he knew how to comfort her at the moment. Not knowing what was the cause of this upset was killing him.

Dawn looked back up at him. "Preston." She breathed in and out with great difficulty. "Preston was protectin' Night to protect himself. 'Cause- 'cause of what he did to him." She broke completely and started to sob again.

Was she trying to tell him what she saw that got her killed? Why she hated her brother so much? "Take a deep breath." She did. "What happened," he asked her softly.

Dawn's lip trembled so Alastor cupped a hand over her cheek. He knew that it soothed him when she did it, he hoped it soothed her too. She leaned into it, her breathing beginning to slow. "Someone from the church. They confronted my da- Preston." Her face crumbled after she realized her slip up.

Alastor rubbed his thumb over her cheek again. "Take your time, chérie."

She took another deep breath. "Someone confronted Preston. He accused Night of...of hurtin' his little girl." Alastor's eyes widened. Dawn's hands trembled so he grabbed one with his free hand, doing everything he could to comfort her. She continued. "It takes a month before the universe decides that somethin's The Past. I can't look back to see what you did yesterday, not until about a month later. I couldn't see if what the man said was true or not but I didn't need to. I knew the little girl wasn't lyin'. I knew he did it 'cause he did it to me."

Rage bubbled underneath Alastor's skin. The demon trapped underneath its human cage rattled the bars. Her own brother. Alastor's teeth ground and threatened to crack as his hands vibrated. He needed to keep it together for Dawn. Lashing out would only make the moment worse for her.

Dawn's brows worried, he knew that she could see his anger and feared that he would react horribly. He wouldn't. For Dawn, he would hold himself together. He nodded for her to keep going, a promise that he wouldn't interrupt her.

She eyed him cautiously before relaxing as much as she could while in this state. "Preston had the man thrown out of the church. Said he was lyin'. When I heard what happened, I ran to Preston to tell him. I was real little when it happened, wasn't even seein' visions yet." Dawn dropped her gaze. "He told me if I told anyone I'd be in trouble," she whispered.

Alastor gently rubbed his thumb over her hand, reminding her that he was right there with her. She squeezed it lightly in response. "Preston thought I looked in a vision to see if it was true or not. Started freakin' out about me lookin' into Night's past, askin' what else I saw. Somethin' about the look in his eye... I knew he was hidin' somethin' big. I looked." She took a shaking breath, "Preston did it to Night when he was young. Night was just continuin' the cycle. Preston saw it in my eyes when I realized what he did. Threw me in that closet for I don't know how long while he tried to figure out what to do with me. He was so convinced that I told someone, he needed the church to think my visions were lies. I couldn't be let go, it would only take a handshake for someone to know what Preston did to Night. What Night did to me." 

Alastor decided then and there that when Preston and Night inevitably dropped down into Hell, they would never know a moments peace for the rest of their eternity. Their screams ringing throughout Hell until Alastor bored of them. He would rip out their vocal chords and gift them to Dawn. When they regenerated, he would repeat the process until Dawn ordered that he stop. Alastor used all of his focus to keep calm for Dawn. No one would ever hurt her again, he would make sure of it.

He gently grabbed her by the shoulders to spin her so that he could hold her to his chest and kiss the top of her head. He had no gentle words to spare so he sat with her silently, holding her tight. 

After a long moment, she sighed. "I didn't have it in me to kill my brother, but I could put an end to the other girl's torment. I never told anyone what happened, not even my sisters. I think Dusk knew, she was the most willin' to help me cover up the murders, but she never said anythin' to me about it. It's been so long. I thought the nightmares would have stopped by now."

Alastor's eyes widened. She had a nightmare. Did he trigger it? She told him that she was okay the night before after their time in the woods but he'd hurt her. He hurt her and enjoyed hurting her. Was he no better than her brother? Preston? Nausea took him over. How could he have done that to her?

She would never tell him that it was his fault, and maybe it wasn't, but that didn't make him feel any better. She seemed to enjoy when he took control of her. Was she just playing along because she knew that he liked to be in control? The guilt she told him he didn't need to feel started to eat at him again. Dawn needed to know that she has control, anything she said he would happily oblige. Even if he was enjoying being rougher with her, she could always stop it at any moment. 

Dawn finally calmed herself after another few moments. "Thank you, Al." She sighed and stood up, walking out of the bathroom to get ready for work that they were definitely going to be late for.

Alastor dropped his head into his hands, he was going to protect her. He would always protect her. She needed to know that as much as she was his, he was also hers. With a groan, he forced himself up to get dressed for the day.

Baphomet scolded them for their lateness. Alastor took full blame. After all, he was almost certain that it was his fault that she had that nightmare. Dawn's mood seemed alright for the rest of the day. She may have even been happier, lighter, with all that heaviness off of her chest. Good. She should be happy, she should always be happy. 

After work, Alastor and Dawn headed to his bedroom to read some more. They weren't able to in the morning, so they decided to skip out on Dawn's dance lessons. She'd been teaching him the two-step. He was not completely unaware of the style of dance but she was a master of it. She wanted him twisting and turning her with precision when they danced. She particularly loved being flipped over, Alastor also thoroughly enjoyed throwing her around.

Not long after they began to read, Dawn was slowly moving to kiss his neck. He smiled and looked down at her, before their lips met he whispered, "wait, chérie, I want to try something."

Dawn bit her lip. "Ooh. I like the sound of that."

"How would you like to switch the roles tonight?"

Her brows raised as her head tilted to the side. "You want me to call the shots?"

"Precisely!" He stood up, clasping his hands behind his back. "Go on, chérie, I'm yours to command."

Dawn grinned. Alastor almost felt nervous seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes, he would never show it though. How long had she been waiting for this?

She stood and walked up to him, reaching for his belt. "Don't move."

Alastor obeyed while smiling down at her as she kept her eyes locked on his. Once she was successful in unbuckling him, she roughly pulled the belt through the loops of his pants and walked behind him. Dawn tied his wrists together uncomfortably, making Alastor grunt. Her hands snaked over his shoulders and onto his chest as she stood on the tips of her toes to bite at his ear. He shuddered as her teeth slowly scraped down his earlobe.

"Kneel," she whispered. She didn't wait for him to obey before she kicked his knees in. They met the ground hard, forcing another grunt from his teeth. 

Dawn giggled as she walked back in front of him. Alastor smiled up at her, the anticipation of what she was going to do next exciting him. Her eyes raked over him, a predator sizing up its prey. She let out a small hum as she hiked up her skirt and slid the lacy style underwear she had been wearing frequently down her perfect legs. Dawn slowly stepped out and hung them on her finger, looking down at them as if contemplating something.

Alastor felt his hands start to pull at the restraints. He would have liked for nothing more than to pounce on her, to make her scream for him. She noticed his movement and snapped her attention to him. "I said don't move."

Alastor smiled wider. She smirked and walked closer. "Hold these for me, would you?" Before he realized what was happening, she shoved the thong into his mouth, quickly turning to skip her way into his bathroom. He could taste her. He wanted more, he needed more. She was driving him wild. The little witch was going to ruin him.

Dawn returned, hiding something behind her back, her smile almost as wide as the one he wears in Hell. She made her way up to him and pressed her foot into his chest, forcing him onto his back. His arms laid awkwardly underneath him, it was painful. Alastor let out a dark chuckle, muffled by the fabric in his mouth. He liked it.

She straddled him and slowly pulled out the razor she was hiding behind her back. Alastor's head picked up and his eyes widened. Dawn opened the razor and held it between her teeth. Her now free hands reached for his glasses. She plucked them from his face, lifting her skirt up, using the cloth to wipe the lenses. Alastor's vision wasn't awful but in that moment, he wished it was perfect, to watch her skirt rise above her hips clearly.

Once Dawn was satisfied with the state of the glasses, she returned them to his face and grabbed the razor from her teeth. "There you go, darlin'. Wouldn't want you to miss a thing." 

Alastor's eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his head meeting the ground a bit too hard as he let out another muffled laugh.

There was something cold pressed into his throat now, the razor. Alastor was certain he would have thanked her if she slit his throat, happy to die for her pleasure.

He kept the smile on his face as he met her gaze. Dawn slowly leaned over him, her chest meeting his, still holding the razor to his throat. "Do you think your blood tastes as good as mine?"

She didn't wait for an answer he couldn't give through his gag anyway, before she moved the razor to his jaw, dragging it across his skin. Alastor moaned from the pain as she licked the blood dripping down his chin.

"Mm. You do taste good." He pulled at the restraints again, unable to stop himself. Dawn chuckled while watching him struggle. "You won't touch me until I allow it, sugar." 

Alastor tried to speak, but everything was still muffled by the underwear in his mouth. What he was even trying to say, he didn't know.

She noticed and leaned closer to his ear. "Didn't quite catch that. Did you say somethin'?" 

Dawn removed the thong from his mouth. "Dawn, please.." he begged through shaking breaths. He needed to touch her, to feel her, anything. 

She hummed. "Well since you asked so nicely..." She sat back up and pulled the nightgown over her head, then grabbed his shirt and leaned back to bring him up to a seated position. Dawn gave him a chaste kiss before slitting a small cut on her shoulder, pulling Alastor in for a taste. 

That wasn't necessarily what he was asking for but he knew that she knew that. He was happy to taste her though, moaning as the blood coated his tongue. Her hips rocked slowly as he drank, relieving some of the ache he was feeling but not satisfying it completely. "Dawn," he begged again, whispering into her shoulder.

She giggled as she rocked her legs up to standing, dropping the razor on the ground next to them, and bent over to undo his pants. She unclasped the fly agonizingly slow. His hands were shaking as he tried desperately to not pull at his restraints again. Seeing her naked and bent over in front of him had him nearly frothing at the mouth. After she decided that she had taken long enough, she pulled out his cock, stroking it slowly. His breath shuddered.

Dawn knelt down to line herself up and slowly slid down on him, she moaned quietly while staring into his eyes and he whimpered from the relief. Her lips crashed into his as she picked up the speed of her grinding, moaning into his mouth. Alastor wanted to break the damn belt keeping his hands out of her hair, from gripping her hips so he could thrust into her harder.

He bit her lip and pulled at it. She let out a trembling laugh. "I guess you been good enough," she teased.

She finally reached behind him and undid the buckle of the belt. Before she had the chance to pull it off of him, he ripped the belt from his wrists with one hard pull and grabbed her waist roughly, crashing his lips back into hers. She squealed in response to the quick movement and giggled as he jumped on her, forcing her onto her back. 

He bit into her shoulder and squeezed more blood from the wound she made for him as he thrusted into her. Dawn was screaming her moans now, Alastor loved that sound but he loved his name on her lips even more. He braced his elbow on the ground to cradle her head off of the hard wood and used his other hand to rub her clit. She screamed his name. There it was.

Dawn finished for him, her core squeezing his cock as she cried out. Alastor nosedived over the edge, grunting as he pulsed inside of her for much longer than he was used to. Once he finished, he gently pulled out and collapsed next to her, breathing heavily.

She laid there next to him, also trying to catch her breath. "That was fun."

Alastor laughed. "So it was." 'Fun' was too simplistic a word to describe what she had just done to him. Alastor enjoyed being at her mercy much more than he had anticipated. She was ruthless.

Dawn rolled onto her side and kissed his cheek. "We better get back to studyin'. I wanna live long enough to know what else I can to do you when I got my Hell magic."

Alastor fixed his pants while she put her clothes back on. He used the blood dripping from his jaw to heal their wounds and they returned to studying, Alastor was just as eager to see what else she can do to him in Hell.

Chapter Text

Even after two years of waking up next to Dawn every morning, Alastor still took the time to appreciate her features while she was sleeping. He could pick out any freckle blindfolded, find the perfect shade of paint to match her hair without a second glance. The one skill he never quite figured out was drawing, but he was convinced he could draw her likeness with ease. What was he going to do if in one hundred years he returned to Purgatory, the image of her so clear in his mind but accompanied with the memory of killing her or, God forbid, torturing her when they meet in Hell? Would he be able to go on? That thought terrified him. That someone could mean so much to him that losing them could cause him to give up. Alastor didn't give up, he had never just given up, but if he took the only thing he had ever cared for from himself, he would almost certainly give up.

Dawn stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Why're you always starin', creep," she mumbled as she fought her grogginess. 

Alastor breathed a laugh. "Well good morning to you too, darling."

She smiled and kissed his nose. "You sure you can't come to the weddin'? Dusk might kill herself just to end up here and kick your ass if you don't show.

Dusk was getting married. Dawn and Alastor had yet to officially meet Dawn's future brother-in-law, Zach, as her and her sisters agreed to wait until after Dusk had officially tied the knot before dropping the 'dead sister visiting them once a month' bomb on him. Dawn and Day kept teasing Dusk for falling for 'another one of those damn cali transplants' but he seemed like a good man. They had seen him around the apartment him and Dusk shared when they went to visit her sisters, but they met in secret. Alastor didn't see much of a point in hiding it. Zach knew that Dusk and Day saw visions and Dusk was already pregnant, may as well prepare the man.

"I'm sure Dusk already knows that I won't be there. I want you to have the day with your sisters." Alastor had an errand to run, the wedding being the perfect opportunity to distract Dawn while he hopefully completed it. He would take his scolding from Dusk on his next visit to Earth but he was certain that she already understood.

Dawn pouted, "but I'm gonna miss you. Who's gonna help me steal all the liquor from the bar?"

Alastor chuckled. "I believe Day would be more than happy to help you with that task."

She hummed as her eyes flitted to his lips. The idea that she wanted to kiss him still excited him, that a woman like Dawn would want anything to do with him. Her gaze turned him to puddy. Never in his one hundred and twenty five years of existence had anyone ever had such control over him and, not only that, he enjoyed it. He would happily give her the world if that was what she wanted. Alastor knew the name of what he felt for her, but he couldn't admit it. He didn't know he was even capable of it until he met Dawn. The words seemed so foreign to him.

Alastor grabbed her jaw and pulled her in for a kiss, telling her with his lips what he was too frightened to say with words. Dawn pressed her body into his, throwing a leg over his hip. Everywhere she touched felt electric. His hand moved to grip her waist as the kiss deepened and she let out a soft moan into his lips. 

Alastor flipped her onto her back, grinding into her with only his cotton pants separating them. He always joked that sleeping naked would be more efficient since this was how most mornings started for them. But Dawn liked to watch him remove his pants and throw her gown off of her, so every morning that was exactly what he did. 

The clothes were successfully thrown off of the bed and Alastor's hands started to roam, venerating her body, worshipping her like he could lose her at any moment because he very much could. They still had three more years in Purgatory and Dusk still hadn't narrowed down exactly what symbol to use to protect Dawn in Hell. Dawn and her sisters were far too calm about that. The three of them reacted in such strange ways to fear, going as far as to never show that they feel that emotion at all. 

Alastor's lips gently made their way down her body, pausing at her breasts to scrape his teeth and suck lightly on each nipple. He smiled as Dawn moaned. If she died, he hoped that sound tormented him for eternity. He would deserve the constant reminder of how he had failed to protect her. 

He situated his head between her thighs and kissed each one before licking at her core, his lips suctioning onto her clit as his tongue rubbed circles around it. Dawn's hand immediately gripped his hair. He moaned into her as she pulled at his scalp, slipping two fingers inside of her in hopes that she would grip harder. She could rip his damn hair out for all he cared, as long as she was pleased with him.

Dawn pulsed around his fingers as he drank her pleasure. He licked his lips before removing his fingers and crawled back over her. Their lips met again, he took his time to take in the taste of her. He never wanted to forget. He broke the kiss as he slowly slid himself into her, Dawn's eyes going wide as she gasped at the feel of him. He thrusted his hips into her at a gradual pace, wanting to watch her reactions. Dawn's mouth opened as her eyes fought to stay on his. Their lips stayed close as they moaned into each other's mouths. He loved to see her this way. He loved to see her in any way. "Dawn," Alastor breathed.

Dawn could hardly speak over her moans, she only hummed in response. 

Alastor tried desperately to think of anything else to say, to not admit to what she means to him. "Dawn, I..."

She smiled as he struggled to find the words. "I love you," she said for him.

Alastor's eyes widened. There it was. Spoken out loud. They loved each other. He loved her. He pressed his forehead to hers. "I... I love you." Their lips crashed into each other and he gripped her waist as he thrusted into her harder. Their lips stayed locked until they both finished with each other, and even for a moment after. Alastor couldn't find it in himself to let her go.

Dawn giggled as she pressed a finger into his chest to push him away. "Alright, loverboy, I gotta start gettin' ready."

Alastor smiled at her, surprised at how light he felt now that he had finally spoken the words he had been tucking away for far longer than he was willing to admit. "But you already look so beautiful, chérie."

Dawn rolled her eyes with a smile, her cheeks blushing at the compliment. He chuckled, endlessly entertained by how even after all this time he could still fluster her with his words, and rolled off of her. Before she could get up, he grabbed her waist and pulled her in for another kiss. She giggled some more into his mouth, Alastor drinking in every breath.

She pulled away slightly, "I'm serious. Dusk'll kill me if I don't possess Day to do her hair. We all know Day would just ruin it if she tried on her own."

He hummed, "just one more kiss."

Dawn laughed. "I still remember what happened the last time you said 'one more', Radiohead. Mighty fine try, though."

Alastor relented, watching her as she hopped out of their bed and made her way to the bathroom.

Dawn stayed in that bathroom for three hours doing God knows what, before Alastor set down his copy of 'A Court of Silver Flames' after finally finishing it.

When he opened the door to the bathroom that Dawn had apparently claimed as her own, there was cosmetics and hair tools covering every surface of the counter. She took the radio from the entertainment lounge and was blasting the country songs that she had been showing Alastor during her dance lessons. He had gotten much better at the two-step, arguably better than even Dawn, she would never admit to it though.

She was still naked, using a curling rod on her long red hair and in a full face of makeup. Dawn was beautiful with or without makeup but Alastor had to admit that he was always impressed with her skill in the art of it. Her eyes were painted to resemble the colors that were seen at, well... dawn, black eyeliner coming to a precise point and lips glossed beckoning Alastor to bring his to them. 

He laughed. "You're not even dressed? What have you been doing in here?" 

She scoffed, "I'm not even takin' that long! I'm almost done anyway."

Dawn actually meant it for the first time since he had met her. She curled a few more hairs before fluffing it and walking past him, stopping to kiss him on the cheek, making her way to the closet where her bridesmaid dress hung. 

After she stepped into it, she pulled the small straps over her shoulders and walked over to Alastor asking him to zip it up for her. Alastor would rather have dropped the straps from her shoulders and let the dress puddle at her feet but he zipped it for her with a kiss on the neck. She breathed a laugh as she walked up to the mirror next to their closet to fix the fit, focusing on the looser chest area. Once she was pleased, she turned to face him. "What do you think?"

The dress was a burnt orange silk material, he had no idea how the loose bust was holding anything but her breasts sat perfectly. The waist was synched in, highlighting the curve of her hips. The skirt dropped to the ground but almost her entire right leg was visible through the very high slit. What did he think? He was thinking about the fact that she didn't put any underwear on before slipping into the dress. "You look beautiful, chérie."

She smiled and ran back into the closet to grab the strappy black heels she had decided to pair with the dress. He watched her step into the first one, bending over to clasp the thin straps around her ankle, before standing back up to step into the second. He walked in front of her. "Allow me," he said as he knelt down in front of her to clasp the other shoe, planting a kiss on her exposed thigh.

Dawn blushed. "What a gentleman," she mused.

He stood up and grabbed her hand to twirl her around. "Go have fun with your sisters, chérie, I will be here when you get back."

She bounced on her toes before running over to the nightstand to grab her potion for the month. This may have been a good thing that he skipped out on one month of potion in case he needed to make a last ditch effort to see her sisters before being dropped back down into Hell. She opened the cap. "Love you, Radiohead. I'll tell Dusk you got sick or somethin'. Maybe she won't come find you in the afterlife and beat some sense into you."

Alastor smiled, he doubted that he would ever get used to hearing her say those words. "I love you too, darling. I think I will take my chances."

She blew him a kiss before throwing back her potion and fading away. Alastor sucked in a deep breath. There was no use in putting off his errand, he was desperate to keep Dawn alive. 

Alastor left the house and made his way to the white mansion that Baphomet resided in, knocking on the door once he arrived. A small goat-like creature opened the door staring at him with an annoyed expression. "What are you doing here, demon?"

"I need to speak with Baphomet," Alastor answered firmly.

The goat creature scoffed. "I will let him know that you're here but I doubt he'll speak with you."

Alastor smiled viciously. "I would be happy to wait out here all day if necessary."

The creature narrowed his eyes and shut the door roughly. Alastor stood at that door for ten minutes before it opened again. The creature greeted him once more with a glare. "He will see you in his office. Second floor, third door on the left."

Alastor nodded his head. "Much appreciated, goat," he said smugly.

The creature continued sneering at him until he was out of view. The gothic architecture of the mansion was decorated with maroons and blacks. Alastor expected more white and grey, that seemed to be the running theme of this realm, but was pleasantly surprised to see something with actual color.

He knocked on the office door, doing his best to not tremble. Baphomet had no respect for demons, that much was clear, and Alastor was there asking for much more than he should. He needed to stand firm.

"Come in, Alastor." He did and found Baphomet sitting impatiently behind a large black desk. "Why are you here?"

Alastor took another breath, puffing out his chest in an effort to appear in control. "I have come to ask that you let me remember her. You can drain as much magic from me as needed but I have to remember her."

Baphomet laughed and Alastor channeled all of his self control to not let anger blind him, grinding his teeth while he waited for Baphomet to collect himself. "You must be joking, demon. I did warn you to not get attached. She won't be here when you arrive for your next sentence."

"Then keep us here. Take her visions from her. Anything!" Alastor almost couldn't believe what he was saying. What he was willing to give up just to keep Dawn alive. He would stay in Purgatory, he would lose his magic, anything just to spare her. Never had he ever been so selfless, so desperate for another person's safety.

Baphomets expression hardened. "I can't keep you two here."

Alastor glared at him. "Why?"

The goat's eyes narrowed, the candle between his horns burning brighter. "The girl must die."

Must die. Baphomet wasn't just keeping their memories so they wouldn't find a way to free themselves, he was ensuring that Dawn died. Her visions made her too dangerous to be left alive, even just to suffer in Hell. He may have been correct, she had access to any information she could possibly want, but Alastor wouldn't allow her to die. Not only that, he was disgusted to hear that Baphomet only saw the woman that he loved as nothing more than an inconvenience. "You're just leading her to slaughter?"

Baphomet smirked, the candle calming. "Maybe when one of her sisters dies I will call you back. You can pretend the hair is red while you fuck her." 

Alastor had never heard him speak like that. So cold and cruel. The demon trapped somewhere in him clawed at his insides. How dare he have such little respect for Dawn. How dare he talk about her like she was nothing but Alastor's toy. She would never just be his toy, he had already promised her that much. Alastor felt his magic rush under the surface, just out of his grasp.

Baphomet waved him off. "Get out of my office, demon. I do not wish to entertain this any further. The both of you will be dropped into Hell in three years and she will die soon after. It is the way it must be."

Alastor couldn't move, frozen and vibrating with anger. Baphomet was given an opportunity to help him, to keep what may very well be the most powerful sinner in Hell alive for him, but he refused and had just ensured his own death. When Alastor soul is freed, he would crawl out of the pits of Hell and kill Baphomet in the most gruesome manner he could imagine and serve his heart to Dawn. The goat had all but put the final nail in his coffin.

Baphomet flourished his wrist and Alastor was standing at the front door once again. His gaze darkened. He would protect Dawn. He would get his soul free. He would kill that fucking goat.

Alastor stormed back to the house, grabbing as many books as he could carry from his room and set up a study at the kitchen table while he waited for Dawn to come home. He was finding that damn symbol and he was saving her.

Alastor spent all of his day off studying, re-reading the books that they had already thrown to the side and looked for anything they could have possibly missed. Here sisters gave them these books for a reason, they must have known that the answer was on one of these pages.

Purgatory dimmed. Alastor hardly realized how much time had passed until he heard drunken giggles just outside the front door. Looking at the digital clock over the oven, he saw that it was 3am. Dawn bursted through the front door, her heels in one hand and a white takeout bag with orange stripes in the other. "Guess who got waterburger!"

Alastor looked at the bag that was clearly labeled 'whataburger' in orange lettering and couldn't help the smile on his face. She must have been drunk out of her mind, slurring her words like that. "I believe it's called 'what a burger', dear."

Dawn laughed and nearly fell over as she clutched her stomach, unable to contain herself. "Don't you give me that 'whata' bull," she said while wiping a tear from her cheek. Alastor walked over to her, both entertained by her behavior and concerned that she would trip on her dress if she tried to walk at the moment.

She dropped her shoes to the ground and threw her arms around him, biting at her lip with heavy lids. "You look good enough to eat, sugar."

He chuckled. "You look ready for bed, chérie."

She stood on the tips of her toes and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "only if you're in that bed with me." She bit at his ear and pulled away to look at him again.

There was nothing he would love more than to join her in that bed and take out the anger he felt towards Baphomet until her screams shattered glass but she was far too intoxicated. He smirked. "Why don't you eat your food first."

Her eyes brightened as she dropped her arms from his shoulders and opened the bag of food. Alastor could practically feel the grease when the smell hit him.

Dawn grabbed a french fry from the bag and took a bite as she stumbled her way to the kitchen table. Alastor followed close behind to ensure that she didn't completely topple over. Once she was safely seated in a chair and excitedly pulling the food out of the bag, he sat next to her. "I take it you had a good time with your sisters."

Dawn took a large bite out of the chicken sandwich, barbecue sauce sticking to the corners of her mouth, and hummed, "Zach got an open bar," she somehow got out with a mouth full of food.

She was a ghost, any bar was an open bar to her. Alastor laughed, his hands rubbing his face under his glasses. He had seen her drunk before but this was by far the worst she had ever been. She usually had some manners left, even after a few drinks. "Swallow first, please," he said, his words muffled by his hands.

Dawn snickered after she did so. "I'll swallow something alright," she said before erupting into a fit of giggles.

Alastor had to set his glasses down on the table while he laughed into his hand. Only Dawn could so quickly erase the tempest of anger that he was before she got home.

Once he collected himself, he returned the glasses to his face and smiled at Dawn as he used his thumb to wipe the sauce from her face. "Behave yourself, chérie."

Dawn rolled her eyes and took another bite of the sandwich. After she successfully chewed and swallowed, her eyes widened like she had just remembered something. "Do you know how to bait a hook?"

Alastor's head dropped to the side. There was nowhere to fish in Purgatory, why would she ask him if he could bait a hook? "I do but-"

"You know how to skin a buck?" She gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, giggling when she realized who she just asked about skinning deer. "I forgot! I'm so sorry!"

He laughed. "Yes, I know how to skin a deer." It's where he learned his skill in gutting and preparing his victims.

She dropped her hand and bit her lip as she tried to contain more laughter. "What about Jack Daniels? You know who he is?"

He furrowed his brows. What was she getting at with all of these odd questions? "The distiller?"

Dawn giggled some more, apparently satisfied with his answers as she looked back to her sandwich waiting patiently in her hands. "I win. My city boy's better."

"Oh, I'm just your city boy now," he teased.

She nodded her head as she chewed on another large bite. "Mhm."

They continued laughing as Dawn basically scarfed down the rest of her food before he helped her upstairs to their room. Once inside, Alastor unzipped her dress for her. It dropped to the floor and she jumped into bed. "Would you like a gown, chérie?"

She hummed into her pillow, "no. This is good." He laughed as he walked up to the bed to lay beside her, making a point to leave all of his clothes on.

Alastor held her to his chest and she snuggled up into him tighter. "I love you, Alastor," she mumbled into his chest, clearly on the verge of passing out.

He kissed the top of her forehead. "I love you too, Dawn."

It didn't take long for sleep to take her and Alastor found himself staring at her features again. She was still smiling as she slept. She looked perfect. Smudged makeup and all, she was still perfect. She would remain this way for all of eternity, happy and perfect. He would do anything to make sure of it.

Chapter Text

Dusk waited another two years before finally deciding to introduce Zach to Dawn and Alastor. Granted, the pregnancy and caring of their new daughter did take precedence over the introduction but Dawn had been impatiently waiting for this day, excited to meet the man Dusk had been talking about since she was a little girl. Of course she saw him coming, she was just waiting for him to move to Austin to meet him officially.

Dawn and Alastor sat at the small patio table on the balcony of the apartment across from her sisters and a very nervous Zach. Alastor had almost gotten used to the amount of tattoos people wore in this day and age, especially in Austin, but it was still a bit jarring seeing the sleeve of grey art covering Zach's arm. His brown hair was tied back in a loose bun with the sides of his head shaved, another odd style to Alastor. He often forgot just how much had changed since his death but after six years of visiting Earth these trends confused him a bit less. The world kept spinning, even without him in it.

That thought had been running through his mind often this past year. Dawn was frozen in time watching her sisters age and live their lives. Fine lines were beginning to show on her sister's faces, Day had cut her hair short and had cycled through multiple lovers, refusing to settle down, and Dusk had gotten married and had her first child. Life was continuing without her and in a year she wouldn't be there to see it. Alastor remembered how much that hurt, knowing that you had no real future to look forward to, that your family was going on without you. 

"Alice, say hi to aunty Dawn!" Dusk used her fingers to wave her daughter's hand at Dawn. Dawn smiled and waved back but Alastor could see the bittersweetness in her eyes. She wouldn't be there to watch her niece grow up. Alice likely wouldn't remember ever meeting her aunt. Day had shown her Dawn a few times in their visits and now Alice smiled anytime Dawn was around, even when she couldn't see her. Dawn loved to make her laugh and play with her the best she could without being able to touch or hold her, she was a natural with children. Alastor never asked her if she wanted children of her own, she was incapable of it in death anyhow. There was no use in reminding her that even if she had wanted kids, it would be impossible.

"Is she gonna have visions when she grows up," Dawn asked.

Dusk used the bib to wipe the drool coming from Alice's giggling mouth as she bounced the toddler on her knee. "Not like mine. Her magic is much more subdued but she's still got some. She's just gonna have some super intuition." 

Alastor found himself wondering what type of powers he would've passed down had he ever had children of his own. Fatherhood was never something he had put much thought into but he found those thoughts interesting. He looked back over to Zach, whose leg was anxiously bouncing under the table. Day could only share her visions with one person at a time so he was still unable to see them.

Dusk noticed where his gaze was directed. "You better play nice, Radiohead," she warned through narrowed eyes. 

Her sister's had adopted the nickname that Dawn gave him, some inside joke between the three of them apparently. He learned quickly to not show his annoyance, they enjoyed it. He gave her an innocent smile. "I always play nice, darling."

She gave him a knowing look, "uh-huh."

He chuckled along with Day who let go of Dusk's shoulder and threw an elbow onto Zach's. "You ready to meet your dead serial killer sister-in-law and her cannibal boyfriend?"

Zach looked at her and gave a nervous laugh. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Day smirked and held out a hand for Zach to take. When he did, his eyes glazed over and widened when he finally laid eyes on the two ghosts sitting in front of him. "Woah."

Dawn waved. "Freaky, huh? I'm Dawn." 

Zach nodded, too stunned to speak, and looked to Alastor. It seemed the man was nervous to meet him most of all, his breathing picking up slightly as Alastor smiled wide. He was sure Day had been enjoying explaining to Zach exactly who The Radio Demon was. "Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure!"

Zach cleared his throat. "Zach." He looked back to Dawn. "So you two are, like, demons from Hell?"

Dawn snickered at him. "Sure are, darlin'."

Zach's face slowly changed from terrified to curious as he turned to Alastor. "What's Hell like?"

Alastor leaned back into his chair casually. "I actually quite enjoy Hell, endless entertainment. Though, I don't think that most sinners would agree."

Zach gave Day a sideways glance, she laughed in response. He cleared his throat again and looked back to Alastor. "And you, like... eat people," he whispered as if he was scared someone would overhear.

Alastor gave him a dark smile. "Often."

Zach looked him up and down, his lip curling slightly. "What, uh... what does it taste like?"

Dusk reached over Day to smack at his knee, making him jolt and look at her like a guilty child.

Alastor chuckled. He assumed that the meat tasted different to him than it did anyone else, given the magic he had apparently always possessed. The meat always tasted like it was sent from the Heavens directly to his plate but the blood was always his favorite part. It depended on the person or demon but he usually compared it to wine, Dawn's blood being the finest. "Rosie's friend, Jeffery, describes the taste as similar to pork."

Zach's mouth dropped open as his eyes bugged out of his head. "Jeffrey? As in Dahmer?"

"Yes, actually. He owns the most popular restaurant in Cannibal Town. Was he well known on Earth?" 

He gave another sideways glance to Day, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, then returned his gaze to Alastor. "He's probably most people's first thought when they think of a serial killer. Him and Bundy." He stiffened. "Have you ever met Ted Bundy?"

Alastor had to think, he had met many people in Hell but the name didn't ring a bell. "I can't say that I have but many demons change their names after they fall."

Zach leaned forward. "And, I'm sorry, did you say Cannibal Town? There's a whole town of just cannibals?"

Alastor smirked. "Yes and it is a lovely little town. I visit the friend I mentioned, Rosie, for lunch there often. She's The Overlord of Cannibal Town."

Zach looked between Dawn and Alastor. "This is too weird."

Dawn cleared her throat, giving Zach a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You married a girl that sees visions of the future. I don't know what you were expectin'," she said, forcing herself to sound as casual as possible.

Alastor gave her a worried look. Were the questions bothering her? Reminding her of her uncertain future? Dawn didn't look at him but he saw her slip something into the pocket of her jeans. He decided that he would ask about it when they got home.

Dusk held out a hand for Day. "Alright, we got business to attend to." Day let go of Zach's hand and grabbed Dusk's.

Once it was clear that she could see them again, Alastor went to reach into his satchel hanging on his chair to grab the notes him and Dawn had been making for her to look at.

"You can save yourself the trouble, sweetheart, I know the symbol."

Alastor's head snapped to her, his breath catching. She knew how to save Dawn. "You... the symbol... you found it?"

Dusk smirked at him. "I knew it before y'all came to visit Bandera. I just needed y'all to get all buddy buddy first before sharin' for my plan to work."

Alastor gawked at her. The stress and frustration that had been tormenting him over the past few years was all for naught. His eye twitched as he tried not to snap at her. Without her tricks he likely wouldn't have gotten so close to Dawn, never truly knowing the woman he now couldn't imagine living without, but he did not enjoy being tricked. 

"I fuckin' knew it," Dawn shouted at her.

"Y'all should be thankin' me. Now, onto how to get that information to y'all in Hell. You remember the letters with instructions I used to give you at camp?" Dawn nodded. "Write some for yourselves, anythin' on your person will drop down with you, that's why we gave you the boots you had on the day you died. You need to wear what you died in so you don't confuse yourself and have a vision seein' why you're wearin' different clothes. Write a warnin' to not look to the past, we can't risk you lookin' before he's there to heal you." She looked to Alastor. "You. Write the letters in your handwritin', you're less likely to kill her if you recognize it. Make sure to remind yourself that you can't free your soul without her help." 

Less likely to kill her. There was still a chance that he would. His stomach turned at the thought. Dusk's plan had to work, he couldn't kill her, he couldn't even hurt her. He would broadcast his own screams if he so much as laid a hand on her. "And the symbol?"

She turned to Zach. "Honey, will you go grab me a pen?"

Zach snapped back to reality, clearly lost in thought while he was waiting for his wife to finish explaining to them how to save Dawn's life. "Yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I got one here." He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Dusk.

She let go of Day's hand and had a vision of her own, scribbling the symbol down on the napkin she had under her coffee cup. She blindly glided it across the table and Alastor snatched it up immediately. He heard Zach gasp when the napkin disappeared from his view.

Alastor stared at the symbol, he had never seen it before, he read the books that Dawn's sisters gave him hundreds of times but the symbol was not in any of them. Dawn looked at it with him, just as confused. 

Day took Dusk's hand again and leaned in. She smiled. "They're confused."

Of course they were confused, they were sent on a wild goose chase and had nearly memorized every useless symbol in the books. The more Alastor stared at it, the more he began to understand. The symbol was in the books, it was in multiple of the books. How did they not think to draw more than one symbol at once? "You combined symbols together."

"Yup," Dusk replied cheerily. "Now, please do your best to not kill my sister. I would hate to have to hunt you down in Hell."

Alastor didn't laugh, he needed to focus. Dawn took the napkin from his hand to have a closer look. The letters needed to be thorough without being suspicious. He would likely want to read the instructions left to Dawn before following his own. It had to hold information that only he would know without putting suspicion on the newly fallen sinner that would be Dawn. He would send her to Rosie first, hopefully an audience of someone he trusted would calm him enough to not react so violently. Rosie knew everything about him, she knew how paranoid he was too. He needed the letter to be just interesting enough for her to call on him to meet with Dawn without putting enough information in it for him or Dawn to remember anything too soon, putting them both in danger.

Dusk sighed. "You'll have to keep the symbol and his blood on you. The goat's magic is gonna continue fightin' those memories until your souls are free. I suggest jewelry." She gave a sly wink to Alastor. He knew what she was insinuating. He tried to look away to hide the small smile that forced itself onto his face. He was already considering and had made his decision on the matter, the box was tucked away safely and out of Dawn's reach.

"I'll have somethin' made for y'all." 

Dawn handed Alastor the napkin and stood up. "We'll see y'all next month," she said a bit too flatly then looked back to Alice. "Give her kisses from her favorite aunt for me."

Day scoffed. "She gets enough kisses from me."

Dawn smirked down at her. "You know damn well I didn't mean you."

Day rolled her eyes and waved them off. "Yeah, yeah, see you next month."

Alastor slid the napkin into his satchel as he stood and said his goodbyes before taking his potion with Dawn, sending them back to their house in Purgatory. "Is there something wrong, chérie?"

Dawn's head snapped to him as she cocked a brow. "Why would somethin' be wrong? We just figured out how to stop the memories from killin' me."

"What did you put in your pocket?" Her mood shifted heavily once he noticed that little movement she was trying to hide.

Dawn looked down and felt at her pockets, empty. She had to have thrown it without him seeing, he knew that he saw her slip something out of his view.

She didn't make eye contact as she spoke. "Ain't nothin' in my pockets, hun."

He sighed. She wasn't telling him something. Alastor knew better than to push her, she had her reasonings for everything. Whatever she was hiding he just hoped that she was okay. She wouldn't do something to put their plan in jeopardy. "Alright, chérie, I have letters to write. Would you join me?"

She looked at the arm he held out for her. "I figured out how to not die when I get to Hell, Al. I made you a promise. I gotta tell you how to free your soul first."

Alastor's eyes went wide. She knew how to free his soul. He was so focused on finding a way to save her that he had nearly forgotten that she was already holding that information. She had known since the day they met. "Let's sit down." Dawn nodded her head and grabbed the arm and walked with him to the couch in the living area. Alastor sat with Dawn's legs draped over him, his hands clutching her tightly. "I'm ready when you are, darling."

Dawn took a moment to collect her thoughts, biting at her cheek the whole time. "You already know that there are other afterlives, right? I mean our dads aren't from any christian realms." Alastor nodded. "Yeah, so when the gods of different realms started havin' mortal kids, those kids usually ended up in whatever afterlife their parents were from. When christianity started sweepin' the globe, wipin' out a large portion of pagans or any followers of anythin' other than God, the problem of demigods endin' up where they don't belong started. Wires got crossed, the children were worshippin' gods they weren't supposed to. Like us, you grew up catholic, not practicin' voodoo, and I grew up baptist. We may have been awful christians but christian nonetheless so our souls were on the path to either Heaven or Hell. Unfortunately for us, Baphomet stepped in before any demigod could cross into Hell. Baphomet and Lucifer hate each other but they agreed that no sinner should be that powerful. Baphomet came up with this program, we stay here for seven years, 'cause that's exactly how long he can hold us here, burn away as much magic as he can on top of ownin' our souls, then drop us down without the knowledge we'd need to escape him. Unfortunately for him though, ownin' the soul of demigods is way harder than ownin' any other soul so he has to basically share custody of us with Lucifer, stowin' away our souls so we aren't draggin' them down."

When Baphomet said that he couldn't keep them there, he meant it. He really couldn't. They were too powerful for him to hold.

Alastor should have let Dawn heal him the whole time, he may have been able to keep more of his magic. Even if Baphomet wasn't satisfied, he would drop down in seven years no matter what.

"So how do we get free?"

"Well there's killin' Lucifer or Baphomet. Baphomet would be easier but not ideal. The guy's whole thing is balance. If you kill him, you go down with him. His energy attaches to you so you can't escape his fate."

Well there went his plan to serve Baphomet's heart to Dawn. "And Lucifer?" Alastor knew that the angel was incredibly powerful but he was also too prideful. They may be able to kill him simply because he underestimated them. 

Dawn chuckled. "I love the enthusiasm but that would be way more difficult. I'm not even sure there's a way to kill him and even if there was, our souls would be passed down to his daughter. If we somehow manage to survive killin' The Devil, somethin' tells me his daughter wouldn't take too kindly to us killin' her daddy. No, what we gotta do is much harder."

Of course it was, Alastor owned some souls himself. He knew that the souls he owned wouldn't be able to get out of their deals unless he died or let them go willingly. "And that would be?"

She gave him a meek smile. "We have to somehow convince either Baphomet or Lucifer to set you free."

Well that was less than ideal. That sounded more like an impossible task than a plan. No wonder she wouldn't tell him how to free him when they first met, he would have laughed in her face. "And how do we do that?"

Dawn turned her head and scratched her neck in an effort to not make eye contact. "I don't know." She looked back at him apologetically. "Dusk still won't tell me what I'll look like or what my powers'll be. She said she 'doesn't want to ruin the surprise'. But once we get our memories back and figure that out, I'm sure we'll think of somethin'. She did say there's a 60% chance I'm successful."

Alastor was good at plotting and manipulating people to do what he wanted, it was what he was known for in Hell, but tricking The King of Hell into allowing a mortal soul to have magic that outranked even his own was not going to be easy in the slightest.

He would have Dawn, she would be safe with him in Hell. Alastor pressed his forehead to hers. "We will figure something out, chérie."

Her relieved smile melted his heart, she really thought that he would be angry with her. If he had known that this was her plan when he had first met her, he most certainly would have been, but not now. Not ever. His feigned hatred of her in that first month seemed almost like some strange dream. He never actually hated her. He hated this place. He hated feeling powerless and lonely. Alastor was incredibly lucky that she forced him to be her friend even after how he treated her. He thought back to their first interaction, there was still one more question left. "You said that you were helping me for selfish reasons. What were those?"

Dawn sat up. From the look she was giving him, he could tell that she was hoping that he had forgotten that little comment.

She sighed. "I didn't know that I'd end up here. Dusk wasn't allowed to tells us where we'd end up. I figured I was destined for Hell but I didn't know I'd have a layover in Purgatory. When I woke up here, I was confused. There was no way I was undecided, I killed eight people. The reasonin' for it doesn't matter, I took lives. Baphomet welcomed me, tellin' me what the little program was and why I was there. It took a while for my soul to unchar and for me to calm down so after he left me to collect myself, I looked to see what it was like for other demigods here. Most of the ones in Hell died off long ago but I saw you and you were so miserable. You lost your damn mind so bad that, even without your memories, you went insane in Hell, stitchin' a smile into your face 'cause you didn't wanna feel like that ever again. I just didn't want to be lonely, I didn't wanna go crazy so I needed you to be a friend. I figured you could use one too." 

She saw him at his lowest, his most vulnerable. She didn't take that information and use it against him, not really, she just didn't want to get to that point. Alastor had never felt happier to hear that someone had violated his privacy like that, glad that she went out of her way to make sure neither of them went through what he did during his first sentence.

He smiled at her. "Oh, how cruel and selfish of you. How dare you go out of your way to make this torture less terrible for the both of us," he teased. Dawn gave him another relieved smile. "I understand, chérie." He gave her a kiss and picks her up to carry her upstairs.

Alastor needed to get the both of them free. If their plan to remember worked, it likely wouldn't take a hundred years for Baphomet to realize that Dawn wasn't dead and when he found out, he would come for her. Even if they could convince Lucifer to free only his soul, he would keep her safe. The only thing he needed now was for her to be safe.

Chapter Text

Baphomet had decided to be ruthless in Dawn and Alastor's last year. He was unsatisfied with how much of their magic had been burned away, threatening them with a longer sentence. Now that Alastor knew that the threat was nothing but a bluff, he had been drinking Dawn's blood before work and Dawn had continued in her 'laziness' that she had since day one. They would both needed as much magic as they could keep when they were dropped into hell in eleven months. 

While Alastor was glad to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, he still felt weary thinking about how he would react to Dawn in Hell. He had written multiple letters over the past month, none of them giving him enough peace of mind to seal the envelope. Dawn was much more confident in the plan, actually excited to get to Hell. She had been on the edge of her seat wanting to know what kind of demon form she would take. Dusk had already promised her that she would still be pretty in Hell. Alastor laughed at that. He had seen some less than desirable demon forms in Hell but no matter what form Dawn took, he would always find her beautiful. 

"You're gonna have to decide on a letter, Al, I think the last one you wrote'll work fine. You're overthinkin' it."

Alastor sighed and dropped his head on the desk. "I don't want to kill you, Dawn. I have to overthink."

Dawn scooted herself closer to him from her seat on his desk and picked up his head to set it on her lap, running her fingers through his hair. "You're not gonna kill me. Vox isn't gonna kill me. We're gettin' our memories back and I'm freein' your soul. This'll work. I promise."

Alastor hummed as he closed his eyes and relaxed into her thigh, the fingers in his hair calming him. She was so sure of him. No one had ever trusted him like this. Granted, it was for good reason that the sinners of Hell didn't trust him, but Dawn knew what he was like in Hell and she trusted him anyways. "I just can't wait for this to be over. For me to remember you."

She laughed lightly. "Me neither, hun. Come on, let's get to bed. Dusk and Day'll kill us if we sleep in again. The jewelry'll probably be ready by tomorrow, too. I'm excited to see what she got for us."

Alastor's eyes snapped open. The jewelry. He looked up to Dawn, his smile spread wide. "Stay here, chérie, I will be right back."

Dawn looked down at him confused but stayed put as he ran to the other room to grab the small black box he hid from her in her old closet. He had it tucked away on the highest shelf, knowing that she couldn't reach it. The nerves crashed into him. Would she say yes? Of course she would say yes, Dusk wouldn't have insinuated this option if Dawn would say no. She loved him just as much as he loved her. He wanted to seal it in any way that he could. He would never kill his own wife, not even if he forgot her. Alastor collected himself with a deep breath and shoved the box into his pocket.

Dawn was still patiently waiting at his desk when he walked into the room and it was clear from the second she laid eyes on him that he was not hiding his nerves well, her brows worrying at the sight of him. "You alright, hun?"

Alastor said nothing, not trusting his voice, as he walked up to the nightstand and whispered into the radio they had moved into their room. Dawn's favorite song started to play. He turned to her, holding out a hand. "Will you join me in a dance, chérie." 

Dawn's eyes lit up when she heard the familiar notes of the guitar and hopped down from his desk to grab his hand eagerly.

'Used to spend my nights out in a barroom... Liquor was the only love I'd known... But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottom... And brought me back to being far too gone'

Dawn's smile was infectious as she stared up at Alastor. He smiled at her softly, taking her in as she was now. This was what she looked like, truly looked like. He would love her all the same in Hell, pointed teeth, claws and all, but her true self would be tucked away in Alastor's mind. Safe. Just like he would keep her. Safe. He lead her in a two-step, holding her hand above her head to spin her, holding her arm out and spinning her back around to guide her behind him as he turned with her. She followed him perfectly, even jumping up to kick her legs as he slowly dipped her over his knee.

'You're as smooth as Tennessee Whiskey... You're as sweet as strawberry wine... You're as warm as a glass of brandy... And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time'

Alastor pulled her to his chest, pressing his forehead to hers as they swayed back and forth. "Dawn?"

She looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes, the love practically radiating from them. He would do anything, kill anyone, just to continue seeing her look at him like that. "Yes, Alastor?"

Alastor gently kissed her forehead before dropping down on one knee and pulling the box out of his pocket. Dawn's eyes went wide as her jaw dropped open. He laughed at her reaction. She couldn't be that surprised. He opened the box, revealing an engagement ring, the black band decorated with crystals all around, topped with a small red diamond. A rare gem for a rare woman. "Dawn, will you-"

"Yes!" She screamed as she bounced on her toes, laughing ecstatically.

Alastor chuckled. "I didn't ask you the question, darling."

The smile on her face could have warmed the coldest of hearts. She giggled as she held out her left hand. "No use wastin' your breath, hun, I already answered." 

Alastor laughed as he took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her impatient finger. The second it was on, she pulled her hand up to her face to inspect it.

She giggled some more as she jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement. "It's beautiful, Alastor! How did you sneak this one past me?"

Alastor stood. "When we went dress shopping for Dusk's wedding, your sisters kept pulling you into the dressing room and away from me. I'm assuming they were doing that on purpose so that I could sneak away and grab this from the jeweler around the corner. I am also assuming that she only chose that bridal shop because it was closest to this particular ring, given that she hated every dress that she tried on." Alastor still thought that little visit was hilarious. How could a woman who could see the future and know if she would like a dress or not choose a shop that she knew wouldn't have the dress she wanted? Looking back, he knew that she did it for them. She knew that even though he wasn't ready to tell Dawn that he loved her at the time, he knew that he did. She knew that he would want to prepare for the day that he could finally admit it. 

Dawn threw her arms around his neck. "I knew it was weird that she even bothered tryin' on the dresses, I just thought it was the hormones messin' with her visions."

Alastor grabbed her waist and pulled her tighter to him, chuckling. "Your sister is more cunning than anyone I have ever met. Not even I could hold a candle to her scheming and that's what I'm known for in Hell."

She giggled. "I don't know, I'm pretty good at schemin'."

"The three of you are going to be terrifying when they join us in Hell." 

Dawn breathed a laugh. "Dusk is convinced they won't be goin' to Hell. I think she's lyin' just to mess with me and Day. They're accomplices to multiple murders. No way they see the pearly gates."

Alastor didn't let his mind wander to what Dusk meant by that. Dawn was right, they were just as guilty as she was in the eyes of the universe and they were also raised Christian. Perhaps they started worshipping the greek gods as they were supposed to, not wanting to end up in the Purgatory program that Dawn was trapped in. Why wouldn't Dusk have warned her before she died? Nothing she said or did made sense until her big reveals. It was infuriating but she was right, if she gave away too much, her plans would never work. "Only time will tell, chérie."

She stood on the tips of her toes to kiss his nose. "Alright, we really gotta get to sleep now. Who knows what Dusk has planned for us tomorrow."

*****

The second they stepped into the apartment, Dusk and Day were screaming their congratulations at Dawn and Alastor, already dressed and ready to attend a wedding. Dawn jumped around with her sisters, showing off the ring he was sure they had already memorized from their visions. Zach blindly waved at them, holding the giggling Alice. 

Dusk grabbed a simple white sundress and a garter from a bag sitting on the couch for Dawn. "I know you didn't wanna do the big weddin' dress when you got married, but you're wearin' white."

Dawn rolled her eyes as she grabbed the dress and garter, stripping where she stood to change.

Alastor looked away instinctively, the old fashioned manners ingrained in him stopping him from watching even his own fiancée take her clothes off in the presence of others. He knew that Zach couldn't see her but he nearly stopped her from changing with her brother-in-law in the room. The three of them laughed at his reaction.

"Alastor's turn," Day teased. 

His cheeks flushed as his eyes went wide. There was no way that he was taking his clothes off in front of Dawn's sisters.

Day snickered. "Kiddin'! As much as I'd love a strip show from you, Radiohead, what your wearin' is fine. Just roll up your sleeve, Dawn's gotta prick you."

Dusk pulled out a needle from the bag and handed it to Dawn. "Doesn't have to be much, just enough to fill the rings. There's a rubber spot inside the bands." She pulled out two black wedding bands, the symbol ingrained into both of them with glass covering the grooves of the markings. "Y'all are gonna have to take them off before bein' dropped to Hell, they won't adjust to your fingers in your demon forms 'cause of the magic in them. Al will have to resize them for you after you return his memories but I thought y'all would want to wear them until then."

Alastor took the rings and inspected them while holding out an arm to Dawn, ready for her to collect his blood. She did so with precision. After filling the needle, she took each ring one at a time, pressing the needle into the hidden rubber spot inside the bands. Alastor watched as the symbols filled with red.

"How did you convince someone to make these," Dawn asked.

Dusk flicked her wrist dismissively. "We're in Austin. They keep it weird and they don't ask a whole lot of questions when you ask for a ring that can store blood." 

Alastor put the rings into his pocket as Dawn applied pressure to the small wound and rolled his sleeve back down. "Why didn't you have them sized to fit our demon forms? It would certainly help if we could skip a few steps in the plan." Like Dawn asking to borrow his magic before he knew who she was, or the risk of Dawn ignoring the letter's warnings and looking to the past anyway.

"The rings are just upkeep. You gotta do the full ritual first to stop the brain meltin'," Dusk replied as though the answer was obvious.

Dawn handed the needle back to Dusk, who simply threw it back in the bag. "Alright where's the weddin'? I hope y'all remembered that we aren't allowed in churches."

Day smirked. "There's an ordained witch that owns a shop on Congress."

Dawn scoffed. "Everyone in Austin thinks they're a witch, why her?"

"She can see ghosts," Day answered. "She's married some, too. Got ordained to marry her cousin to his dead wife. Most people think she's got a screw or two loose, but she's actually legit."

Well that was interesting. Alastor had never known any true mediums. Plenty claimed to be in New Orleans but no one had shown any sign of seeing him when he would visit after his death. "Is she a demigod?"

"I'm sure she is but I know Dawn wants to see for herself," Dusk smirked at Dawn.

Dawn smiled excitedly. "Well, we best get to gittin'! I wanna meet her." She turned to Alastor. "Oh, and get married. Almost forgot," she added playfully.

Zach stayed behind with Alice while Dawn, her sisters, and Alastor made their way to the car and headed to the makeshift ceremony. The shop the supposed witch owned, 'Hypnos', was decorated in blacks and purples, pentagrams decorated the storefront as well as inside. The scent of incense struck Alastor immediately upon entering. Black shelves filled the space holding everything from books to crystals to candles to cards.

The bell rang on the door to signal that customers had arrived. Alastor saw a tall woman dressed in all black, her hair and makeup to match, walk around the corner of the hallway in the back of the shop. "Welcome in! Let me know if y'all need help," the woman said cheerily without looking at them.

Alastor looked down at Dawn, who was already mid-vision, and waited for her to answer his earlier question. As far as he knew, him and the Miller sisters were the only demigods destined for Hell. Dawn had informed him that after the Purgatory program was started, gods stopped running the risk of their children ending up as sinners, deciding to 'keep it in their pants' rather than deal with the shame of their kin's soul being taken from them.

Samedi apparently didn't care, only seeing Alastor's mother as a one night fling. His mother never even knew that she had lain with a god. Dawn didn't go into much detail on his parent's history but there wasn't much detail to share anyway. Alastor was the product of a drunken night on All Saints' Day. The loa likely never even knew that he had a son, he never came to visit his mother again.

Dawn blinked back into the present. "She's kinda a demigod. Daughter of Thanatos. Her name's Morticia, her mama's a huge fan of 'The Addams Family'. Her daddy is basically the greek grim reaper."

Alastor had no clue who the Addams Family was but that wasn't important at the moment. He looked to Dusk. "Is she destined for Hell?"

Dusk bit her cheek in an effort to disguise her smirk. "No. But she ain't goin' to Heaven neither."

Alastor looked at her confused. What did that mean? She was ordained, surely that counted as Christianity. Perhaps she was only ordained legally and followed the greek gods but the way Dusk phrased it was odd. Why not just say where she was going?

Dusk dragged Day up to the counter that Morticia was standing behind before he could question her further, Alastor and Dawn following close behind. Morticia looked up from the phone she had in her hand, her grey eyes widened when she saw them approaching, the phone dropping onto the counter. 

Day leaned on the counter casually while holding Dusk's hand. "We heard you do ghost weddins. You got time to marry these two real quick?"

Morticia turned to her as if she couldn't believe that she would ask such a thing. "Those aren't ghosts, those are demons," she shuddered.

Day shrugged. "Close enough. Can you marry them or no?"

Morticia looked back to Alastor and Dawn, Alastor giving her a winning smile. He watched her throat bob.

"I don't work with demons." She turned to Dusk. "H-how did you summon them? Why do you want to marry them?"

"We didn't summon them, they're just in town." Dusk pointed to Dawn, "this is my sister, Dawn Miller, soon to be Dawn Broussard," she moved her finger to point to Alastor, "and this is her fiancé, Alastor Broussard. We like him."

The witch took a weary step back. "Alastor Broussard? The fucking serial killer? You're kidding, right?"

Day did mention that she found a few 'true crime podcasts' highlighting his history. He never got caught while alive but being shot while holding a dead body he was attempting to bury did give him away a bit after he died. "Ah! You're aware of my work. I must say, I do love to meet a fan."

Morticia's breathing picked up. "Please leave my shop. I'm not marrying them."

Day let go of Dusk's hand to lean over the counter, invading Morticia's space. "You either marry them, or I'm marryin' these hands to your jaw."

Morticia narrowed her eyes at Day. "If y'all don't leave now I will call the police."

"That's alright, we'll just call Cameron. I'm sure she would love to know what you and Derek have been up to," Dawn said casually. 

Morticia's head snapped to her. "How do you-"

"Oh, I know a lot of things, Morticia," Dawn interrupted, pretending to inspect her nails.

Alastor chuckled at the reminder of their first meeting, it was refreshing to not be at the receiving end of one of The Miller's sister's games.

Dawn looked up at her. "So you can marry us and we'll let Cameron live in blissful ignorance to her best friend gettin' hot and heavy with her boyfriend or..."

"Fine," Morticia stopped her before she could finish, throwing her arms in the air. "Fine, I'll marry you." She sighed and walked back toward the hallway she came from earlier and turned the corner into a room separated by a tapestry rather than a door, the tarot card 'death' woven into the fabric. They followed her inside.

The room was incredibly small and stuffy, a small foldable table draped in black cloth sat in the middle of the room, a crystal ball and a tarot deck sitting in the center. Morticia grabbed a small black book off of a shelf at the back of the room before turning to the group. "Y'all got a marriage license," she asked begrudgingly.

Day held out a hand to Dusk, "marriage license." 

Dusk pulled the legal paper from her purse and handed it to Day. She handed it to Morticia before grabbing Dusk's hand, allowing her to see Alastor and Dawn again. 

Morticia took the document and looked at it cautiously. "How did y'all even get this? I doubt 'the bayou butcher' has an active form of ID."

Dusk chuckled. "I would stop stallin' before 'the bayou butcher' possesses one of us and shows us a live and in person show of his favorite hobby."

Alastor laughed. The bayou butcher? That was what they came up with?

Morticia trembled at the sound of his cackling. She nodded and cleared her throat. "Let's just get this over with."

And get this over with she did. Only reading off the necessary steps to a marriage ceremony, not asking them for any vows. Just the simple 'I do's' and exchanging of rings. No matter, Dawn never wanted for a big wedding ceremony and Alastor never thought that he would have one. They were married, officially husband and wife. He may have not been able to give any actual vows but he vowed to keep his wife safe and happy, no matter the cost. Morticia hilariously skipped the 'til death do us part' bit. Nothing could separate them. Besides, they were already dead.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride and get the hell out of my shop." 

Dawn's sisters clapped and whistled at Alastor's overindulging of his new wife. Dawn giggled. "Alright, bayou butcher, we'd better leave before Tish changes her mind on callin' the police on my sisters," she mumbled into his mouth. 

Alastor hummed. "She can't call the police on us, darling."

Morticia cleared her throat. "I have salt and a fuck-ton of crystals. Get out." 

Dawn and Alastor laughed as he pulled away and offered her a hand. Dawn took it and turned to Morticia. "Appreciate the help, Tish. I'll have some roses with the flowers chopped off sent to you to show my gratitude."

Morticia's face softened slightly. Alastor didn't get the reference but he assumed that it was a peace offering of some sort. She giggled as Alastor lead her out of the shop and onto the sidewalk, where he dipped her and indulged in his wife some more.

Dusk and Day followed behind. "Get a room," Day teased.

Alastor chuckled as he brought Dawn back up to standing. She grinned at her sisters. "Alright, where's the reception? I'm ready to dance."

Day bit her lip to hold back a laugh. "Barb's."

Dawn dropped her head to the side with a concerned smile. "The club on Red River? I haven't been there since our 21st."

Day nodded her head, still trying not to laugh. "They're doin' Gaga Night, the dj and I hooked up a few times. She said drinks are on the house!"

Alastor looked at Dawn confused. "What is gah gah night?" 

Dusk and Day couldn't hold their laughter anymore, they let go of each other's hands to clutch their stomach the same way Dawn did when she lost control like that. Pedestrians passing by gave them weary smiles. Dawn brought her knuckle to her mouth in an attempt to stop her own laughter.

"Did I say something funny, chérie?"

Dawn looked back up at him, tears collecting in her eyes as she tried to stifle her own laughter. "No, hun, it's just," she turned to her sisters, who had collected themselves enough to wipe their own tears from their cheeks, "I don't know if Gaga is Alastor's... speed."

Day grabbed Dusk's hand. "She thinks Alastor is lame."

Dawn scoffed. "I didn't say that, I just don't think he'd have fun."

Dusk gave Day a sideways glance before looking back to Dawn. "Oh, he'll have fun."

Chapter Text

As much as Alastor hated to admit it, Dawn was right. The...club...was not exactly his cup of tea. Dawn's sisters laughed at his scowl when he entered the dark bar. The dance floor had two levels and was filled with fog and half naked drunks moving their bodies in ways he thought were only reserved for the depraved demons in hell. Flashing lights and loud music blasted through the speakers as they made their way to wrap around the bar. 

It wasn't the worst pop music he had ever heard but the genre had always been less than enjoyable for him. Alastor understood that jazz clubs weren't as popular as they were when he was alive but was this truly the next best thing?

'I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease... If you were a sinner, I could make you believe... Lay you down like one, two, three... Eyes roll back in ecstasy... I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya ... Cure your disease'

"When did she release this one? I like it," Dawn smiled as she leaned on the bar top next to her sisters.

"'Bout a year after you died, wait till you hear the songs on the album she released last year." Day signaled for the bartender who approached them without a smile.

Dawn looked away from her sisters, attempting to mask the hurt. More reminders that she wasn't actually there. She would miss even the small things like artists she enjoyed releasing new songs, movies coming out that she may have liked, styles would change, times would change, and she wouldn't get to experience it for herself. Time kept moving in Hell but demons tended to cling onto their eras no matter how much time had passed, something that Alastor was very much guilty of. He gripped her waist, bringing a small smile back to her face. They had a future together, he just hoped that it would be enough to keep her happy.

The bartender stood in front of Dawn's sisters. "What can I get for y'all," he asked with very little energy.

Day gave Alastor a sideways glance and smirked before looking back to the bartender. "Four shots of tequila, well's fine."

Alastor shuddered. Anything but tequila, especially well tequila. The bartender said nothing as he lined up four plastic cups and poured liquor straight from the bottle over them, filling them far too high to be considered a single shot. Dawn laughed as Alastor grimaced watching the man pour their drinks. 

The bartender slid the four cups to Day and Dusk. Day slid two of the shots towards Dawn and Alastor. The bartender furrowed his brow slightly, looking at the empty spots at the bar she put drinks in front of. He shrugged. "Y'all celebrating something?"

Dusk smiled. "Our sister just got married, we're comin' from the weddin'."

He gave them a close lipped smile. "Boring reception?"

Day snickered. "Nah. This is the reception."

The bartender gave them an approving nod. "Cool. Where's the couple?" He looked to the shots in front of said couple before looking back to Dusk. "Those for them?"

"They're dead," Dusk answered flatly, attempting to hide her smile. "But yes those are for them." 

Alastor laughed with Dawn as the bartender's eyes widened. Day tilted her head to the side and let go of Dusk's hand to hold the other out to the bartender. "You wanna see them?"

He looked at her hand incredulously but ultimately decided to grab it. His head snapped to Dawn and Alastor. The former waved too sweetly and the latter held up the shot in front of him while giving the bartender his most sinister smile. The bartender let go of Day's hand is if it had burned him. "What the fuck?"

Day laughed. "No congratulations for the happy couple?"

The bartender looked her up and down, his lips curling as his throat bobbed. He opened his mouth as if to say something but ultimately decided to walk away, looking as though, well, as though he had just seen a ghost. 

'Oh, whoa-whoa, oh-oh... I'm in love with Judas, Judas... Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh... I'm in love with Judas, Judas'

Dawn gasped as she gripped Alastor's arm. "Take your shot, I love this song!"

Dusk, Day, Dawn, and Alastor cheered and he stomached the awful shot, fighting hard to not gag as he did so. The second he finished it, Dawn was dragging him onto the crowded dance floor, not allowing him a moment to recover.

Alastor took a second to listen to the beat and collect himself, it was nowhere near complicated so he quickly began to lead Dawn into a dance. She giggled as he twisted and turned her through the crowd, the club goers shivering as Dawn and Alastor passed through them. 

Alastor smiled as he continued dancing with his new wife, flipping her over a few times, laughing as she sang along. As the song progressed, Dawn's hands began to wander more and more but she kept turning away before Alastor could properly grab her. She was teasing him. The song changed to an electric beat and Alastor lightly grabbed Dawn by the throat bringing her back to his chest. She looked up at him, biting her lip. Just as he moved to bring his lips to hers, she dramatically grimaced and said "ew" in time with the song before turning out of his grasp. They smirked at each other darkly, challenging each other to make another move. It was a good thing the people in this club couldn't see them. There was only one outcome that would come from her insistent teasing and Alastor was so looking forward to it.

Dawn put a hand to his chest and sang the spoken word part of the song at him, pressing him into a wall. She grabbed his shirt and brought her lips close to his, he felt them brush as she dramatically sang the bridge to him.

'I wanna love you... But something's pulling me away from you... Jesus is my virtue... And Judas is the demon I cling to'

She roughly gripped his chin as she sang, "I cling to," into his lips. Alastor grabbed her, turning them so her back met the wall she pushed him into. The way her pupils dilated and her eyes widened for him made his knees weak. He gave into the feeling, kissing down her body until he was kneeling in front of her. His teeth gripped the garter at her thigh, tearing it off of her and tossing it behind him. The fabric flew through the air, landing in some poor sap's drink. They both laughed watching the man's head swivel to look for the culprit. 

As he found his way back to standing, he hoped that her sisters knew better than to look for them because what he was about to do to Dawn on the dance floor was positively sinful. His lips crashed into hers as his hands worked to memorize every curve of her body, cupping and gripping any part of her like she may disappear if he were to let go. His knee pressed between her legs, making her breath hitch as he smiled against her lips. Alastor brought his lips to her ear. "I must say, Mrs. Broussard, you look ravishing tonight," he purred. 

Mrs. Broussard giggled before snatching his lips with her own. Alastor didn't hear the song end, the sound of her shaking breaths as she ran her fingers through his hair was the only sound that he cared to hear at the moment, his attention only being torn from Dawn when he heard Day's voice come over the speakers.

"The hell did I say about gettin' a room?" The club goers looked around, their expressions slightly confused as they attempted to find who she was scolding.

He growled as him and Dawn glared in the direction of the DJ booth. They couldn't see very well through the dirty glass, but he could practically feel Day's smug smile. "Why don't y'all at least have a first dance before gettin' carried away."

 'I, I just woke up from a dream...Where you and I had to say goodbye'

Alastor considered ignoring Day, continuing what he had started in spite of her intrusion, but a proper first dance was in order. Tradition and all that. Besides, they had an entire house to take advantage of when they returned to Purgatory. No one could interrupt them there. He sighed as he turned back to Dawn, holding up a hand for her. "Dance with me, chérie?" 

Dawn rolled her eyes playfully as she took Alastor's hand. 

'If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you... If the party was over and our time on Earth was through... I'd wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile'

Dawn and Alastor chuckled at the choice of song. The lyrics were an obvious reference to the infernal smile he wore in Hell. He lead her in a classic but simple ballroom dance, not taking his eyes off of her. The amount of people on the dance floor lessened as they waited for the slower song to come to an end. Only a few groups of women remained to drunkenly sing the song at each other.

As the song neared its end, Alastor pulled Dawn close to his chest. Their foreheads met as they swayed and took each other in. The singers harmonized the last few lyrics as Alastor cupped her cheek and kissed her softly.

The visions ended and Alastor's eyes snapped open. The blood that had collected in them made his already slightly blurred vision tainted with red. The splitting pain he was suffering from slowly calmed as he took shallow breaths. He weakly turned to look up at the phoenix demon kneeling over him, her brows worried.

He stared at her, his jaw went slack and his eyes widened. Dawn. It was Dawn. The woman he spent seven years with. The woman he fell in love with and was so terrified that he would kill. His wife, fangs, feathers, and all. 

Alastor found what little strength he had left in him to push himself off the ground and kneel in front of her, framing her face with his hands. "I didn't kill you," he said breathlessly as he stared into her bright red eyes.

Dawn smiled. "You didn't kill me."

He laughed, the relief flooding through him. "Vox didn't kill you."

"Vox didn't kill me," she reassured for him.

His expression faltered slightly as he narrowed his eyes at her, remembering how she had baited Vox earlier. "Not for lack of trying, Dawn."

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "I couldn't help myself. He wants my man."

Alastor couldn't help his smile creeping up slightly hearing her be so possessive of him.

Dawn stared at his smile curiously before slowly reaching up to brush her finger over his sharpened teeth. He stayed perfectly still as she explored him. She'd seen what he looked like as a demon but she always respected his privacy... for the most part. She did her best not to pry into his past, this may as well have all been new to her.

She brushed her thumb over his cheeks, wiping the blood from them. Her curious mask faltered only for a second, a sadness creeping into her features. "What's wrong, chérie?"

"You're pale," she sighed.

Alastor furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side, confused. She was paler than him, but she had always been paler. Oh. The one feature he was glad to be rid of when he first fell was a feature that she had grown accustomed to. His appearance in Hell was almost unrecognizable but as the years passed and his power slowly returned to him, his complexion would darken, looking more like the man that gave him his power. His skin was always a barrier in life, growing up in a much less accepting time and in the south no less - not to mention being the product of a one night stand between a once well respected white woman and an unknown man of color.

Alastor gently put his hand over hers. "I am. I look much more like my mother now."

Dawn smiled sadly. The smile grew when she looked at to the top of his head. His damned ears. They flopped to the side while he looked at her, annoyed. Her new tail flicked around excitedly as she did a terrible job suppressing her smile, begging for permission without speaking. He rolled his eyes as he leaned his head closer to her. She wasted no time and quickly brought her nails to his scalp, scratching at the ears. He hated how good it felt.

He chuckled as he brought the hand he was holding in front of him, wanting to do his own examining of her. The color of her skin stayed the same all the way down to her hands, ending with bright orange nails, unlike his own that faded to black, his nails a bright red. Her hand looked so human, it was strange. That is, until she noticed him inspecting her. She extended her claws for him, the orange talons sharpened and lengthened in front of him.

He felt the blood in his face drain as he snapped his head up to look at her. "Your cheeks..." He had hurt her, while only a minor injury compared to what he had originally intended to do to until he laid eyes on her, he dug his nails into her with intent to do much more harm. 

She smiled. "I doubt that will be the last time those nails leave a few marks."

Alastor felt his face heat up as he tried to focus on the changes in her appearance. That could wait, he wanted to learn her all over again and slowly. That logic didn't stop him from grabbing her hips to pull her in closer. He chuckled at the way her breath hitched when he did that, her tail wrapping around his wrist instinctually. They both looked down at his wrapped wrist. "The hell am I gonna do with a damn tail?"

"Same thing I do with my ears. Live with it while I have my fun with it." He smiled at her smugly, that tail was going to be quite the addition.

The tail loosened its grip as she rolled her eyes at him but he caught the small shudder along her spine, her wings twitching ever so slightly. He leaned to the side to get a better view of them, running a finger over the bone. She sighed into his chest at the touch. Now that was good to know. Her wings were extremely sensitive, even more sensitive than his ears it seemed.

Alastor smirked at Dawn, moving to bring his forehead to hers. She put a hand on his chest to stop him. "I had to put the mark on your forehead. You dress like a nun, it's the only skin showin'."

Right. Protecting their memories from Baphomet was priority number one. He remembered that he was given the rings to drop down with, not wanting to confuse Dawn if she were to find them in her pockets before she got her memories back. Unfortunately, the pants he dropped down in had been snapped into the ether he kept his belongings in and his magic was extremely weak at the moment. 

"Dawn, my magic. We're going to just have to be careful with the runes until I get some rest."

She bit her lip, absentmindedly breaking the skin on her lip with her new fangs. Dawn flinched from the sudden pain and reached to touch the small wound. "Well, that's convenient. I was just gonna suggest you drink some blood to see if it helps any."

Alastor swallowed hard. He could only imagine what her blood would taste like now that more of her magic was at her disposal. Without thought he found himself moving closer to her. His senses were heightened so much in his demon form, the smell of the blood calling to him like a siren song. He had always loved the smell blood, but knowing what her's tasted like changed things. He thanked the heavens that he didn't taste it before he remembered her. He was sure that he would have reacted like a rabid dog, tearing her to bits for more of a taste.

His eyes widened as he found his mind wandering to the image of sinking his teeth into her. If he wasn't careful he could all too easily tear her throat out. He stopped himself right before their lips met. "Dawn," he begged, not entirely sure as to what he was begging for. Was it for her to allow him to tear into her? Or was he begging her to stop him so that he wouldn't hurt her? Perhaps it was a bit of both. He gripped her hips too tight in an effort to keep himself together.

Dawn gently laid her hand on his cheek, stroking her thumb in a soothing motion. "I'll be okay, Al. I trust you," she whispered into his lips. 

Alastor allowed himself to relax into her touch. He had control over himself, he always had control over himself. He could do it. They did need the rings after all. He took a deep breath and brought his lips to hers, the taste hit him immediately. If he thought that the taste of her was intoxicating before, this was a tsunami compared to the ripples that was her essence when she was human.

She grunted when his claws dug into her hips as he fought his instincts screaming for him to rip her apart. The smell of the wounds he made on her made his vision go hazy as he shook uncontrollably. He knew that his eyes were now glowing green radio dials as he heard his antlers crack above him.

Blue sand wrapped around him, keeping his arms at his side as it held him in place. Dawn scooted back slightly, though she didn't look afraid, more concerned than anything. "Alastor? Are you okay," she asked sternly.

He was the furthest thing from okay, watching her jeans soak in red right along the curve he loved so much. Was he upset that he had hurt her again? Or was he upset that all of that blood was going to waste? Again, it was likely both. He sat in silence as he warred with himself. This must have been his infernal punishment, the craving to tear apart the person he cared for most, the only person that he couldn't live without.

"Maybe we should take this slower. We can work our way to warm blood. How's that sound?"

Alastor nodded his head rigidly, not taking his eyes off of her hips. The wounds closed too quickly with the rune still drawn on her collarbone. The rings were simple upkeep protecting them from Baphomet's magic, they wouldn't heal the wounds like that. He licked his lips at the thought, he needed the rings and he needed them now. 

Alastor shook his head and blinked those thoughts away. How could he think that? Not wanting her to heal? Was the bloodlust truly that bad? His focus still didn't leave her hips until he heard Dawn slit open her wrist. His breathing reached a panicked pace as he snapped his head to her. She was letting her blood drip into a wineglass she must have made with her magic while he was lost in thought.

Alastor struggled in his bindings watching her. His limbs cracked and contorted as he began to transform into his inner demon, unable to control himself. Dawn's eyes widened when she noticed him and more sand wrapped around him and much tighter. "I'm sorry, hun, just give me a second." 

He wished that he could have visions like hers, to feel like he was somewhere else. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything else but the blood that was slowly dripping down her arm. It worked well enough to bring him back to his normal state but not enough to stop the trembling. The restraints tightened and he opened his eyes to Dawn standing over him holding the glass of blood. "Drink slowly." 

Alastor obeyed as she brought the glass to his lips. He shuddered when the blood touched his tongue but Dawn was right, the taste was different when it was cooled, when he couldn't hear her pulse skyrocketing as he closed the space between them. She paced his gulps for him until the glass was drained and he was feeling far better than he was only moments before.

The restraints disappeared and he gave a relieved sigh. "That is going to be a problem, chérie."

She looked down at him, tilting her head to the side curiously. "Do you still wanna rip me open?"

He glared up at her. She couldn't have worded the question differently? "I never wanted that."

Dawn chuckled. "You did. Like I said, I trust you but you gotta trust yourself more if you're gonna be drinkin' from me. Did it help your magic?"

Alastor sighed. Of course she was right...again. The woman was always right. He took inventory of his body. He did feel stronger, not to his full potential but just about where he was at when he woke up, the bloodlust almost completely gone.

He snapped his fingers and the rings appeared in his hand, properly sized. He stared down at them, his was much bigger than Dawn's two rings. Oh dear. She had hardly grown in her demon form. He was already almost a foot taller than her when they were human but now...this was all going to be much more difficult than he had imagined. 

Dawn plucked her rings out of his hand and slid them on while he continued staring at his. "Al?" 

His eyes narrowed as he attempted to find the proper words. He looked up at her. "You barely grew, darling." He brought himself up to standing as he slipped the ring onto his finger, towering over her to emphasize his point.

She stared up at him confused for only a second before the realization hit and her eyes almost bugged out of her head. "Alastor, you're gonna break me in half!"

He chuckled. "Don't fret, my dear, we will be taking everything slow for now. This body is completely new and I have no plans on breaking it."

Controlling himself around her in every aspect was going to be incredibly difficult but the idea that only he would be the one to touch her, that this body belonged entirely to him, it was invigorating. The promise he made to himself, that he would always protect her, would need to extend to protecting her from even him. If he needed to be bound regularly if only to keep her safe then so be it, he would find a way to control himself. They only had an eternity to practice.

Alastor snapped his fingers, removing all of the blood from their bodies and stitching her pants where he had ripped them. "Now, I believe we have some explaining to do for my dear friend, Rosie. She must be absolutely beside herself after this morning's dramatics."

Chapter Text

Dawn and Alastor agreed to save their magic for now, not knowing their limits quite yet and not wanting to risk Alastor going into another frenzy to replenish more of his magic for a short while. They decided to walk to Rosie's instead. The walk wasn't long but they did have to pass by the Entertainment District on their way. Running into Vox again would not have been ideal but at least he knew now that Dawn could find any weakness of his and exploit it - not to mention the fact that The TV Demon was likely already terrified of Dawn after the afternoon's performance in his tower. No, Alastor did not believe that Vox was much of a threat as of now.

They passed by an electronics store, a mountain of TV's sat behind the storefront window. A group of sinners stood to watch the news being broadcasted intently. Dawn glanced at what they were watching. Her head cocked to the side as she stopped and stepped towards the crowd to get a better look. Alastor followed close behind, wanting to know what it was that she found so interesting. 

Charlie Morningstar, The Princess of Hell, and Lucifer's daughter, sat behind a table next to the anchorwoman, Katie Killjoy. "...Ladies and gentleman, I'm opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!" 

The crowd fell silent, as if waiting for the punchline. Even the demons in the studio Charlie sat in seemed to hold their breath.

As the silence grew, Alastor watched as the princess' confidence faded from her face. "Y'know? 'Cause hotels are for people passing through...temporarily..."

The crowd stayed silent for only a second before erupting into uncontrollable laughter. Alastor couldn't help his own laughter. Redemption? What nonsense. The princess hadn't been seen much in Hell, he assumed that Lucifer kept her hidden for her safety. She was clearly far too naïve to take care of herself. The demons of Hell held little respect for the royal family in general save for Lilith. The Mother of Demons had spent her eternity trying to get back at Heaven for damning her and her husband to Hell, empowering sinners to fight back against Heaven's tyranny.

Alastor continued laughing until he looked down to Dawn, who was glaring up at him. He coughed while he attempted to stifle his laughter. He had a much harder time stopping himself when Dawn crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Somethin' funny, Radiohead?"

He smirked down at her. "She's talking about redeeming sinners. You're not telling me that it's possible, are you?"

Dawn looked around then back to Alastor. "Let's get out of the crowd."

Alastor held out an arm and lead her out of the crowd, back onto their path to Rosie's emporium. "I'm all ears, chérie." He flicked his ears, making Dawn unwillingly smile. He chucked as she tried to school her expression.

She rolled her eyes. "No, redemption isn't possible. But while you were too busy laughin' at the poor girl, I looked back to watch her plan the hotel. She owns it with her girlfriend, Vaggie. She won't turn anyone away, Al. Gettin' good with the daughter of Lucifer won't be a bad place to start."

Clever little witch. "Well, I won't be staying in that nonsense hotel as a resident. A business partner perhaps. I could keep a much closer eye on her if I'm helping to run the little project."

"The only staff she has is that girlfriend of hers. You got some spare souls you could 'employ'? Charlie has no support in Hell, we could easily earn her trust with just a sprinkle of help."

"I just so happen to have a maid and a bartender at my disposal. Speaking of souls, you should collect some of your own. It may help your magic and dissuade sinners from asking too many questions as to why a fresh soul like yourself has so much power." He remembered that after his arrival demons had many questions. Apparently, no one had fallen with so much magic at their disposal. He had to collect a few souls just to satiate the curious sinners asking him questions he had no answers for and to get the overlords that reigned supreme at the time out of his hair, killing a few dozen of them just to make an example.  "And tell no one of your parentage."

"Obviously I won't be tellin' anyone, Al."

Alastor chuckled. "Come on, chérie. We're almost there."

Alastor was well known around Cannibal Town, being so close with Rosie. The residents gawked at him as he walked past them. He assumed most believed him to have been dead, seeing as he had been missing for seven years, and now he had reappeared with an unknown woman on his arm. Now that he knew exactly where he had been, he reveled in the mystery of himself, nodding casually at the shocked cannibals.

When they walked into Rosie's emporium, she was standing behind her counter talking with one of her regular customers. The bell on the door rang, her attention immediately snapped to Alastor and Dawn. If she wasn't already eyeless, he was sure that her eyes would have fallen from their sockets from the look she gave them.

She put a finger up to the cannibal she was speaking with and excused herself to walk up to them. "You have explaining to do, Alastor. My office. Now." She looked down at Dawn incredulously. "You too, missy." 

Dawn and Alastor looked at each other, attempting to hide their growing smiles, and obeyed Rosie's order. The second they made it inside, the door was slammed behind them and the Cannibal Overlord stared at them with crossed arms. "I see you two worked out your differences. Care to introduce your friend, Alastor?"

"Rosie, I would like to introduce you to my darling wife, Dawn Broussard." Dawn waved as he introduces her. 

Rosie scoffed. "Very funny."

Dawn coughed a laugh, calling both Rosie and Alastor's attention to her. She looked up at Alastor with a guilty smile before looking back to Rosie. "He's not lyin' ma'am." Dawn held out her left hand, showing Rosie the rings on her finger. "Alastor did sucker someone into marryin' him."

Once they got the introduction over with, Dawn and Rosie were going to get along far too well, him constantly being the butt of the joke.

Rosie narrowed her eyes at Dawn then grabbed the hand that she was holding out to inspect the rings. She looked back up to Alastor, still apprehensive. "Do you regularly claw at your wife's face, Alastor?" 

Alastor's expression fell at the reminder, his ears pinned back. Dawn used her free hand to cup his cheek, reassuring him that she didn't blame him. She knew that if he had known who she was, he would have never threatened her like that.

He leaned into her hand, planting a light kiss on her palm before she turned back to Rosie. "He didn't remember me, ma'am."

Rosie's head fell to the side. "What do you mean he didn't remember you?"

"We were trapped in a prison of sorts for the last seven years. Our memories of our time there were erased once we were dropped back into Hell. The letters I had were instructions we needed to get those memories back."

"A prison? Back into Hell?" She snapped her attention back to Alastor. "You mean you two weren't even in Hell?"

Alastor nodded. "As much as I would love to explain further, my dear, I'm afraid the less you know the better."

Rosie threw her arms up. "Of course. What else is new?" 

Alastor sighed. He hated leaving Rosie in the dark but Dawn's safety was on the line. When all of this hopefully blew over, Rosie would understand. "We will schedule a lunch soon. Dawn and I must be on our way now, we never did get a honeymoon after all."

Rosie's eyes narrowed. "Honeymoon? Wait!" Her expression brightened as she slapped her hands over her cheeks. No, no, no. "Alastor I never thought I'd see the day!"

"Rosie..."

"Oh, Dawn is not going anywhere. She is staying and telling me everything."

Alastor growled. The woman had dedicated her entire afterlife to being his unwanted 'wingwoman'. Something about his aversion to sex only made her push him more, asking him godawful questions constantly, insisting that he just hadn't found the right gal. In a way, he supposed that she was right. 

Dawn smiled. "How could I pass up on some girl time?" She turned to Alastor. "I'll meet you at the hotel later, hun." Dawn pressed her fingers to her lips then pressed them into his cheek, she wasn't even tall enough to kiss him on the cheek if she stood on her toes. 

Alastor gave each of them the closest thing to a grimace he could give with his permanent smile. "Fine. But I will still be keeping an eye on the two of you." He allowed his shadow to manifest. It would save him some magic anyway, the thing was always trying to break free on its own.

His shadow chittered and wrapped around Dawn excitedly. Dawn giggled as it nuzzled into her cheek. The shadow gave her a mischievous glowing green smirk and unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse. She gasped. "Alastor, is this...are you?"

Alastor flicked his shadow's forehead. It shook its head and glared at him in response. "Don't worry, darling. He is just another part of me." His attention turned back to his shadow. "A part that completely lacks self control apparently." 

Dawn looked back up to the shadow, still wrapped around her, then back to Alastor. "He got a name?"

"No, he is a shadow."

Dawn pouted then looked up to the shadow. "I'm gonna give you a name. How about Billy?" The shadow frowned and shook its head. "Paul?" He feigned a gag. She hummed, "we'll figure somethin' out. Don't worry." The shadow smiled and pinched her cheek, making her giggle.

Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no allies, not even the literal extension of himself, at the moment. He sighed and leaned down to give Dawn a quick kiss before standing to point sternly at his shadow. "Keep an eye on her and I have first dibs on my wife," he hissed. "When I call on you to bring her to me I want her clothed and flowered." Dawn's eyes widened as she blushed. Alastor chuckled. "I'd like to remind the both of you that I can feel everything you do. Behave." He turned to Rosie. "Do help her collect some souls if you insist on stealing her from me."

Rosie put her hands on her hips. "And who put you in charge?"

No allies. "Please," he gritted out. The word felt sour on his tongue.

Rosie laughed. "Oh, you got nothing to worry about, Alastor. Of course I'll help her...after she tells me everything." She leaned to look behind him to Dawn. "I want no details spared!"

"Of course, ma'am."

No. Allies. Alastor groaned. "All of you will be the death of me."

The women he cared for most laughed and his shadow self chittered at him as he made his way out of the emporium. The second he stepped outside, he heard a familiar squeal and a stinging sensation in his hand. He summoned his cane and tapped the mic. "I felt that," he scolded into the mic, his voice repeating inside on Rosie's radio.

His shadow behaved itself well enough as he walked all of the way to the Princess' hotel, only a few grazes over Dawn but nothing too distracting. The hotel was...something. It was clearly one of the Morningstar's neglected properties in The Pride Ring, being held together by what Alastor could only call hopes and dreams. Fitting for the fruitless charity project. The building was falling apart and what had been repaired was just other run down parts of buildings, mainly circus themed architecture. The king and queen couldn't spare a dime to fix up the place for their daughter? 

Alastor knocked on the door slowly. He saw someone's shadow behind the apple themed stained glass look at the door before cautiously opening it, revealing the princess herself. Alastor turned his charm up to ten as well as his voice filter. "Hel-" The door slammed in his face. Rude. Alastor was about to knock again when the door opened. If Charlie's face wasn't already ivory, the color would have been drained from it from what he could see in her expression. "-lo!" The door slammed in his face again. Alright well this was already grinding his last nerve. 

Inside he heard a loud conversation, a woman was yelling for Charlie to not let him in. Alastor tapped his foot impatiently until the door opened again, Charlie puffing her chest out with a feigned severe expression on her face.

He dropped his head to the side. "May I speak now?"

The princess huffed. "You may."

Alastor grabbed her hand, shaking it roughly. "Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure!"He didn't wait for her answer before making his way inside.

If he thought the outside of the building was something nasty, the inside was truly insidious. He didn't make it very far before a short demon with long white hair and an X over her missing eye was pointing a spear under his nose, making him pause. Well, if this wasn't the most welcoming staff in Hell.

The woman muttered something in Spanish. Alastor didn't speak the language but the venom in her voice told him that she was not exactly enthused by his presence. "I know your game, shitlord. I won't let you hurt anyone here!" Charlie ran around Alastor and attempted to calm the woman. 

That must have been Vaggie, the princess' girlfriend. A fierce little creature, he couldn't fault her for wanting to protect the woman that she loved. If the roles were reversed and he was protecting Dawn, he would have likely already killed the intruder. "Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here..." His neck extended and snapped to the side as his smile grew and eyes turned to radio dials. "...I would have done so already." 

The two women stared at him blankly as he shook off his inner demon. "No, I am here because I want to help!"

The princess cocked a brow. "You want to what now?"

"Help! I would like to help you run this silly little hotel."

Vaggie looked him up and down, her lip curling. "Why?"

Alastor shrugged. "Why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom!" With a heavy dose of 'if my wife dies you're all going down with her'. 

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other, the latter shaking her head no. Charlie looked back at him with a meek smile. "So, you think redemption is possible?"

Alastor couldn't help but laugh. "Of course not. This is all wacky nonsense. I am here to watch loathsome sinners struggle to do something meaningful only to fail spectacularly!" Dawn would likely smack him upside the head if she heard him. Alastor had no issue lying, though he preferred half truths, but this? This he could not lie about, it was too funny. And jokes are no laughing matter.

Alastor didn't wait for an answer before he started his own tour of the lobby. Pictures of the Morningstar family hung on nearly every surface of the walls, covered in dust. He spotted a large white and pink spider demon laying on the couch sucking on a popsicle. The sinner hardly reacted to him, in fact, he winked at him. Alastor quickly turned away and made his way to the concierge desk, which would make for a wonderful bar.

He heard Vaggie and Charlie whisper back and forth. He only caught the tail end of the conversation that was Vaggie warning Charlie not to make a deal with him. Vaggie was going to be his largest hurdle there apparently. No trust in that one.

Charlie marched towards him. "Alright, Alastor. You're sketchy as fuck and you clearly see everything I'm trying to do here as a joke but I don't. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I'm taking your offer to help. On the condition that there are no tricks or voodoo strings attached."

Alastor rolled his eyes at that but then smirked. He held out a hand. "So it's a deal then?" His hand glowed with a green light, simple theatrics to play up the joke.

Charlie stiffened. "Nope! No shaking! No deals. As princess of Hell and heir to the throne I, uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel...for as long as you desire."

The room went silent, Vaggie and the spider demon were staring at him and Charlie with wide eyes. Alastor let the silence go on uncomfortably for a moment before putting his hand down and shrugging. "Fair enough." The sinners collectively let out a breath at his compliance. He chuckled. "So where is your hotel staff?"

Charlie shrunk in on herself a bit, nervously playing with her long blonde hair, before gesturing to a glaring Vaggie. "Uh, well..."

Alastor laughed. "Well that just won't do." He snapped his fingers, calling upon his favorite soul. The fireplace erupted and the small bug sinner laid there covered in soot over the logs. Alastor casually walked up to her, the hotel residents following him, and picked her up by the back of her dress to shake her clean. "This little darling is Niffty!"

Niffty opened her large cyclops eye as he dropped her to the ground. She looked up at him and her smile brightened, needle-sharp teeth on full display. "Alastor! Where've you been? No one else will watch my puppet shows!" She turned to look at the gawking group in front of them. "Who are they? Where are we? Why is everything dirty?"

Dawn was going to love Niffty. "You are the new maid at this Hazbin Hotel! Isn't that fun?" 

"Actually it's the Happy Hotel," Charlie corrected.

"Hm. No I don't think so! Go on Nif, have your fun."

The bug demon bounced on her toes before scurrying around cleaning every surface in the lobby. Now, onto that concierge desk. Alastor pointed his staff and shot a bolt of magic, turning the desk into a bar with a green swamp aesthetic. A cat demon with large wings popped up behind the bar, his head swiveling from side to side as he took in his surroundings. The demon's yellow eyes landed on Alastor. "You motherfucker! I thought you were dead!"

Alastor threw his arms out dramatically as he walked up to the bartender. "Husker! I'm sure you've missed me dearly my good man! You are the new bartender/concierge of this Hazbin Hotel!"

"Hap-"

"Why don't you go on and whip up my usual! I do hope you still remember after all this time!"

Husk groaned. "It's a goddamn rye on the rocks. How the fuck would I have forgotten that?"

Strangely enough, Alastor thought that Dawn would also love Husk. Vaggie jumped in front of him, stopping him from enjoying his favorite drink. "No! No bar! We are trying to rehabilitate sinners. Not-"

She was cut off by the spider demon tackling her to the ground. "Shut up! Just shut up! We are keeping this!"

Alastor stepped over the scene and grabbed the freshly poured drink. He sat at the bar while the demons wrestled it out, Charlie attempting to pull them off of each other. Husk looked him up and down. "What are we doing here?"

Alastor shrugged. "Bored."

Husk scoffed. "Bullshit. I know you're planning something."

Alastor clutched his imaginary pearls and gasped. "Me?" 

Husk rolled his eyes as he walked away. Alastor chuckled as he downed the drink. Even just the small bit of magic he used to put the bar together and call upon two souls was starting to drain him. Well, it was time to find his room. This long without Dawn and only...these people...he would like to lay in bed with his wife.

"Husker! Any rooms available?"

Husk looked back at him, his brows knitted together. "I don't fucking know. Why would I know that?"

"Well, you're the concierge. May I have my room key?" 

Husk grumbled something unpleasant under his breath before turning around and finding the wall of keys next to the bar. He grabbed a random one and threw it toward Alastor, who caught it easily. "I will begin my work tomorrow. Goodnight everyone!"

The demons ignored him and continued to wrestle as Alastor made his way upstairs to find his room, '555'. The second he was inside, he unbuttoned his coat, dropping it to the ground along with his tie, and threw himself onto the bed, exhausted. He sighed as he attempted to correspond with his shadow, who was ignoring him. He groaned as he snapped, the shadow appearing in front of him. It crossed its arms and glared. "Don't look at me like that. I would like my wife back." It gestured between the both of them. "Yes, yes. I know. What's mine is yours. You are me, I am you. Yada yada. May I have my wife back?"

The shadow slumped and disappeared, returning a moment later. Dawn stepped through the shadow as it disappeared and smiled brightly at Alastor. "Al! I already got two souls!"

Seeing Dawn gave Alastor enough energy to hop up off of the bed and wrap his arms around her, picking her up off the ground. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he pressed his forehead to hers. "That is amazing, chérie. I've missed you."

Dawn giggled. "It hasn't even been two hours, Radiohead. You just spent the last seven years with me, you gotta be sick of me by now."

Alastor nuzzled her nose. "Never."

Dawn kissed his nose. "Well, I guess you'd better introduce me. I'm sure they're all wonderin' who tied the terrifyin' Radio Demon down."

"No."

Dawn's head cocked to the side, her brows knitting. "No?"

Alastor smirked and turned to lay Dawn down on the bed. "I would like to keep you to myself for now. These...demons...they can wait."

"Alastor, you sound exhausted. How much magic did you use?"

Alastor snapped his fingers. "That was the last of it I'm afraid."

Dawn looked around the room, trying to see what he just did. "What was that?"

Alastor laughed at the image of the hotel residents walking outside the next day to see 'Hazbin Hotel' written in big glowing letters over the hotel. His ego could not take staying in a place called 'The Happy Hotel'. "Just a bit of rebranding."

Dawn's eyes narrowed as he crawled over her and started kissing her neck. She sighed into his ear as he listened to her heart rate pick up for him. Just the image of the blood rushing through her veins nearly broke him. Wasting so much magic was a very bad idea. His eyes widened as he froze, his teeth only an inch away from her throat. 

Dawn framed his face with her hands as she searched his eyes. "Alastor? Do you need blood?"

He trembled. What he needed was for his wife to be safe. "Dawn. No."

She scoffed. "Up."

"Dawn."

"I said up." Alastor pulled himself away from her to sit on his heels. Blue sand wrapped around him, gently but firmly holding him in place. "I'll be right back, hun." Dawn hopped up from the bed, kissing him on the cheek, then disappeared into the bathroom. 

This was ridiculous. Why couldn't he just enjoy his wife without being terrified that he would shred her to bits? It couldn't be that hard. It shouldn't be that hard. He loved her, he would lay his life on the line to protect her. Alastor took a deep breath. This was Dawn. His wife. The woman he loved. He wouldn't hurt her because he didn't want to hurt her. She was not his food or his victim, she was his life. If they wanted to successfully free his soul and protect her from Baphomet, he would need all of the strength that he could get. Alastor would only drink from her if he needed to. She was not his toy. She would never be his toy.

Dawn turned the corner with another wineglass of blood and her arm wrapped to conceal the wound she made. "Do you think you can drink on your own?"

Alastor nodded. Dawn flourished her wrist and the bindings disappeared as she handed him the cup. He sighed as he brought the glass to his lips, pacing himself. He needed control over his bloodlust. Dawn would never be in harm's way, not if he had any say in it.

The blood coated his tongue. Alastor trembled, his grip tightening on the glass. No. He could control himself. He forced his hand to relax as he slowly sipped the liquid. He took his time finishing it, willing himself to only take what was needed. When the cup was empty, he handed it calmly back to Dawn. 

She smiled as she took it. "I told you. You just need to trust yourself. Now, where were we?" She threw the glass behind her, it separated into small sand particles and disappeared as she climbed back into the bed. 

Alastor smiled at her softly as he gently grabbed her waist, pulling her lips to his. She threw her arms around his shoulders as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. Mindful of his teeth, he chased her tongue with his own as he slowly guided her onto her back. He extended a claw and tore the buttons from her blouse. She giggled into his mouth as she returned the favor, ripping his shirt open. They both sat up to remove their shirts completely, Dawn's new wings making that a difficult task, before locking their lips again. 

Alastor ground his hips into hers, drinking her quiet moans as he did so. His hands glided down her body to unbuckle her belt and unbutton her pants. He saved her the trouble of maneuvering around her tail by reaching around her, sliding his hand into her pants and dragging his claw up the back, making them much easier to remove. He doubted she would have any use for any of the clothes she was wearing anyhow. He would replenish her wardrobe with anything she desired. All wing and tail compliant of course.

He sat up to throw off her boots and roll the jeans down her legs. She wore his favorite pair of red lace undergarments of course. His pants were thrown over her's on the ground. He hummed as he climbed back over her. His hand trailed over her, making note of all the small changes her body had made during her fall. He was selfishly happy that there were hardly any differences - he knew her and how to care for her. Her form mostly just lengthened to keep proportioned with her taller body.

She gasped as his claws lightly grazed her thighs, then back up to her hip. Alastor leaned to whisper in her ear, "as much as I love this particular pair, I'm afraid I'm going to have to replace them." His claw snapped the band, rendering the underwear completely useless. Dawn giggled excitedly as her hand reached to palm him. He grabbed her wrist before she did so. She looked at him confused. Alastor's smile crept higher. "You're not ready for that quite yet, chérie."

Dawn blushed as he brought his lips to hers. He kissed her cheek, her neck, her breast, anything he can put his mouth on until he made it down to her thighs. Alastor moved the useless piece of fabric out of his way, delighting in the way that she glistened for him. He hadn't even touched her yet.

Alastor's breath was ragged as he took in the sight of her want for him, her need for him. She was alive. She was here and he could enjoy her. He licked her core, savoring the way she tasted. She let out a small whimper as he slowly circled her clit. Alastor kept his claws retracted, his bloodlust may have been sated at the moment but there was no reason to take any risks, no matter how much he wanted to dig into her. His need to keep her safe far outweighed his desire.

He brought one of his hands to her clit, replacing his tongue. Dawn shuddered as she let out a moan. Alastor looked her in the eyes. "Do you think that you could stay quiet, chérie? As much as I love to hear you sing, I'm afraid I will erase anyone who dares to interrupt us." He slipped a finger into her and hooked it. She answered his question with a cry, far too loud. She slapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to muffle herself. He knew that would only do so much but watching her struggle to hold herself together was far too entertaining. 

Alastor chuckled as he brought his mouth back down to her, working in tandem with his fingers. Her thighs tightened around his head and he wondered how long it would take for him to regenerate if she were to pop his skull open. He added another finger. She felt impossibly tight around him as she trembled and gripped onto an antler with her free hand. He moaned into her and removed his fingers, replacing them with his tongue. The tongue his demon form kept was much longer and much stronger than his human one. Before he had the chance to wonder if she would enjoy it, Dawn gripped his antler so desperately that he started to fear that she may rip it from his skull. So be it. He continued.

When she finished for him, her hand did nothing to disguise her loudly crying out his name. She squeezed around his tongue and suddenly he had no care in the world other than her. All of Hell could have heard them and he would do nothing to stop it. Every afterlife should hear it, should hear who she belonged to, who he belonged to. 

Alastor crawled over her and crashed his lips into hers. She tried to desperately catch her breath but he mercilessly stole them from her. She giggled and snapped her fingers, his undershorts disappearing. He laughed as he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead into hers. "Getting impatient, are we?" 

Dawn bit her lip and nodded her head with that mischievous smile he loved so much. He could never deny her anything when she looked at him like that. He would have willed himself dead if she only asked. 

He kissed her slowly as he rolled his hips, gliding his cock over her slickness. He groaned at the feel of her, growing harder than he ever thought possible.

Her breath hitched and eyes widened at the sight of him. Alastor smiled softly and gently placed a hand on her cheek. "Are you ready, chérie?"

She swallowed hard and slowly nodded her head. He lined himself up and held eye contact with her as he inched his way inside. Alastor trembled and let out a low defeated sound. How was he supposed to last if this was what she felt like? Dawn's nails dug into his back, not at all helping his control over himself, as her body tensed up.

They both took a long moment to gather themselves. "I need you to relax, darling. Can you do that for me?"

Dawn took a deep, shaking, breath and did as he asked.

When he regained a shred of composure, he slowly inched further until he was almost completely buried inside.

Alastor gave her another moment to readjust to him, not at all wanting to admit how much he also needed that minute. "Are you alright," he whispered to her, unable to hide the trembling in his voice. 

She gave him a light kiss. "I'm more than alright, Alastor," she whispered back.

Alastor tried to grab onto the headboard of the terrible hotel bed but it crumpled under his grip.

He reached desperately for her hand and interlaced their fingers. She gave him a reassuring squeeze, smiling at him softly.

After a deep inhale, he slowly started to roll his hips, coaxing beautiful moans from her mouth, echoed by his own. 

His thrusts stayed controlled. Her nails dug deeper into his back, her claws extending. He groaned too loudly when he felt his blood drip down his back so Dawn brought her lips to his, swallowing the noises only she could bring out of him. 

Her breathing picked up as her tail wrapped around both of their thighs. He felt her tightening around him. If that wasn't already going to throw him off the edge, the sudden sting of her canines piercing his shoulder most certainly would.

Alastor couldn't risk biting her so his teeth sunk into the pillow she was laying on as they both let out a muffled cry for each other. He filled her as she squeezed out every last drop for so long that he was almost convinced their bodies were stalling being separated. 

When they both finally came down from their climax, he lifted his head from the pillow, spitting feathers from his mouth.

Dawn giggled and the sight of her mouth stained with his blood nearly killed him right there. She had never looked more beautiful. He smiled broader than he thought possible as he rubbed a thumb over some of the spilled blood on her lip and used it to draw a rune to heal her arm before begrudgingly rolling off of her. She didn't let a second pass before she wrapped her arms around him.

He hummed as he held her closer and stared into her eyes. He missed the blue, he would always miss the blue, but the red meant that she survived. The red meant that she could protect herself if for some unbeknownst reason he wasn't with her. It would also be much more reassuring to know that most demons would give her a wide berth anywhere she went, even before she had made a name for herself.

Alastor tucked a stray hair behind her ear and brought his lips to hers. "I love you, Dawn," he whispered against her lips.

Dawn closed the gap and kissed him deeply before pulling away slowly. "And I love you, Radiohead," she answered with the brightest smile.

He chuckled. "Well you are in an awfully good mood, chérie," he teased.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the deep blush that crept onto her now much paler cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself now." 

He put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Me? Flattering myself? You must be thinking of someone else, darling. My middle name is humble."

Dawn laughed genuinely, a sound that Alastor would do anything to hear for eternity.  

Chapter Text

Alastor turned the suite next door into his official office and redecorated his and Dawn's hotel room. She let him have free rein over the design, save for a few decorations here and there. Half of the room resembled a very comfortable hunting lodge: a fireplace - never actually lit - with a seating area for him and Dawn to relax in, and walls covered in mounted skulls per Dawn's request. The other half was a full-blown bayou pocket dimension. Some days, she would ask him to turn the bayou into a bluebonnet field. It seemed she found just as much solace in the place where she had died as he did in his own.

Dawn had been feeding him her blood with every meal, making his magic much more powerful. Luckily, her avoiding work in Purgatory resulted in her magic being less likely to dwindle. Unfortunately when her magic did deplete, they had no way to replenish it other than good old fashioned rest. She would usually spend her evenings with Rosie to relax and collect souls. 

Alastor groaned as another one of the princess' crayon drawings appeared on his desk. Plans for future therapy sessions with the residents of the hotel, she made sure to include a stick figure representing him in this particular picture. He absolutely refused to participate in these sessions, reminding her that he was merely staff, not one of the desperate souls seeking redemption. 

A swirl of blue sand appeared next to him, Dawn manifesting in its place. The outfits she chose made him feel faint. Wearing a short skirt was much easier on her tail and the small halter tops she chose, much easier on her wings. Alastor was not complaining by any means, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to come to terms with the fact that he would eventually have to introduce her to the rest of the hotel. She leaned down to give him a chaste kiss. "I'm bored, hun. You almost done?"

Alastor brought her onto his lap, pulling her in for a much deeper kiss. "Darling, it's morning. I've only just started."

Dawn pouted. "But I miss you."

Alastor chuckled. "You've spent the last seven years with me, surely you're sick of me by now," he teased.

"Never."

"How is the soul collecting with Rosie?" Alastor didn't see her until morning, apparently she was out all night wreaking havoc in the city. Word had begun to spread of a new overlord in their midst, one that had raised the ranks much faster than ever before seen.

"I've got thirty souls now! Surprisin' how easy it is to convince someone to give in to eternal servitude when you can see every nasty thing they've ever done," she mused.

Alastor's hand trailed down from her waist to grip the back of her thigh. "You are a vicious little witch aren't you?"

Dawn bit her lip, shamelessly staring at his. "As much as I would love to show you just how vicious I can be. I got somethin' else to show you."

He raised his brows. "Well, don't keep me in suspense, chérie."

She smiled as she pointed to the clock hanging on the wall behind her. "Watch the clock." 

Alastor obeyed. The second his eyes landed on the time she snapped and was leaning over the desk across from him and the time had suddenly jumped five minutes into the future. Alastor's joints popped as he turned to look at her, feeling a bit too stiff for comfort.

Dawn looked him up and down, seemingly impressed. "Wow. Five minutes. Al, I think you're more powerful than either of us even know. I can usually hold someone for hours before they break from the spell."

Alastor blinked, his brows knitting. "What did you just do?"

Dawn smirked. "I froze you in time."

His eyes widened. That was an incredible power but not one he ever wanted to fall victim to. "Never do that to me again."

She giggled. "I'll think about it."

Alastor grimaced, only making her smile creep higher.

"I think it's 'bout time I introduce myself to your new friends, don't you? I need to learn what I can about them, what you can use to get on the princess' good side. That commercial did you no favors, like I told you it wouldn't."

Ah, the commercial. Vaggie almost tore his head off for the silly thing. She told him that it made the hotel look like a joke, Alastor couldn't argue there. It was a joke. "They would be less likely to trust me if I was too nice, darling. My reputation simply wouldn't allow it."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm gonna go say hi. I'll be right back." 

Alastor sighed. She was right. He couldn't hide her forever and he needed her help to get his soul back.

As she turned around, he saw just how short her skirt was. "Perhaps some underwear, chérie."

She laughed as she turned to sand and disappeared. Dawn was going to introduce herself without him? He wondered what she was planning, how she was going to introduce herself. Should he have joined her?

Only a few minutes passed before Alastor's staff that was leaning against his desk crackled to life. "Uh, Alastor?"

Alastor picked up the mic and brought it to his lips. "Charlie! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Did you put out an ad saying that we're hiring?"

Alastor did his best to stifle his laughter. "No I have not. Though, that wouldn't be a terrible idea would it? The staff here is incredibly lacking."

"I guess... Alastor, I think this is that new overlord. Vaggie has her under control but she's asking for the facilities manager. She says she's here to apply."

Alastor doubts Vaggie could have kept his wife under control with her best efforts. He stood and started to make his way out of his office. "As facilities manager, I would love to interview her. Did she say for what position?"

"No. But, Alastor-"

He cut communication through his mic and walked downstairs, giving Dawn plenty of time to study each of the residents. When he made it to the lobby, the residents of the hotel all wearily stared at Dawn, who was staring at Vaggie and the spear pointed at her chin with wide, excited eyes.

Alastor walked up to her casually. She had changed her outfit, now sporting what he could only call rodeo chic. Her pink lace up halter top leaving little to the imagination and her burnt orange flare pants somehow even less. She accessorized her outfit with a brown cowboy hat and boots, a belt to match, and a red Phoenix emblem fixed prominently on her belt buckle. Dawn turned her attention to him. "Well, ain't you a tall glass of water?"  

There really wasn't much of a point in hiding the fact that they already knew each other. All it would take was one look at their wedding rings to see that they were much more than strangers but that would be giving far too much credit to the residents of the hotel. Besides, it would help them avoid being questioned as to how they met, where they'd been.

She held out her hand in greeting. "Name's Dawn. And who might you be, sugar?"

His smile widened when the residents of the hotel gawked at her brazenness towards him. He took her hand, leaning down to kiss her knuckle. "Alastor. It is a pleasure to be meeting you, dear. Quite a pleasure," he purred. "I am the facilities manager of this Hazbin Hotel."

She did her best to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks as she slowly took her hand back. "A very close friend of mine told me y'all were hirin'. The lease on my last place just ended, thought I'd try this place out. Got plenty of favors to call in anyway."

Vaggie's spear stayed drawn. "Who told you we were hiring?"

Dawn smirked at her. "And what are you? The hotel's guardian angel?" 

Vaggie's eye widened slightly before narrowing. Dawn's smirk only climbed higher as the silence between them grew.

Vaggie pulled back the spear though she never took her eye off of Dawn. Dawn snickered as she turned her attention back to Alastor. "So, y'all got any openings?"

Alastor looked between her and Vaggie curiously, the latter was still assessing the threat that was Dawn, before focusing back to his wife. "I suppose we could use some kitchen staff. Do you have any experience in a kitchen?"

"Oh, do I? Used to cook for my family every night 'til I kicked the bucket a few years back. Got plenty of staff too." Dawn snapped and ten demons appeared next to her, all staring at their owner cautiously.

"Lovely! Why don't you have them whip something up while we talk in my office." 

Dawn snapped again and each one of her souls was holding a sheet of paper. "Jordan!" The goat demon that stood closest to her straightened in attention. "You're gonna play chef today." Jordan gulped and nodded as he quickly made his way to the hotel kitchen, the rest of Dawn's souls following behind. "Alright, ready for the interview, Mister Alastor."

Alastor schooled his expression as much as he could as he held out his arm. He moved them through the shadows and back up to his office. The shadows around them barely dissipated before his lips were on hers as he pressed her into the desk.

She giggled as her hands tangled in his hair, deepening their kiss.

"So, chérie, what did you find," he asked breathlessly between kisses. 

Dawn pressed a finger to his chest and pushed him back so that she could properly answer him. "Well I know how everyone died. That spider demon you complain about, Angel Dust, he died of an overdose. The strain was called jumpin' spider. Niffty was a failed lobotomy, bug jumped on the doctor performin' the procedure, freakin' him out. Husk's curiosity got the better of him at the casino he worked at, saw somethin' he shouldn't have and got thrown from a roof. The snake fella, Vox's spy turned resident, Sir Pentious, he was makin' some gun thing with snake venom - accidentally ingested some."

Vox did not appreciate Dawn's behavior in his tower on her first day in Hell, dabbling in some defamation of Alastor's character and reliability. The Television Demon, being painfully aware of Dawn's ability to look into someone's past, acted in anticipation of his personal information being exposed. Alastor quickly put a stop to that, sharing the information he already knew Vox wanted kept out of the public eye; his bitterness towards Alastor for not joining his sad squad of fools. Vox retaliated by sending the expendable Sir Pentious to spy on him. The snake demon was found out within 24 hours. Charlie invited him to stay at the hotel anyhow, much to everyone's annoyance. 

"Well that's all hilarious dear, but I believe you're missing someone. How did Vaggie die?"

Dawn bit her lip, the excitement in her eyes palpable. "I didn't see how she died 'cause she ain't dead."

Alastor's brows furrowed as he tilted his head to the side in silent question. How did someone get into Hell without dying first?

"She's an angel, Al. A fallen exorcist. Best part is, Charlie doesn't know."

The person that Charlie trusted the most was lying to her. No harmless lie, either. Vaggie was the very thing that Charlie was fighting against. The redemption hotel was Charlie's way of fighting back against Heaven. She was attempting to put a stop to their version of Hellish population control, the exterminations, by redeeming sinners into Heaven. The exorcists being the angels sent down every year to kill sinners indiscriminately. Oh, this was perfect. He held Dawn's face between his hands and kissed her. "What would I do without you, chérie?"

"Make stupid commercials," she joked. 

He hummed and brought her in for another kiss. "Speaking of commercials and exorcists, I should probably let you know that the exorcists are coming twice this year. The commercial I did end up making with Vaggie was thankfully interrupted last night, the Heaven embassy announced that they will be back in six months."

Dawn's eyes widened. She watched her mother die at the hands of exorcists when she was only a teenager, she had been understandably nervous about experiencing the slaughter for herself.

"You have nothing to worry about, chérie. I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

Dawn sighed. "That might actually be a good thing. The princess'll be more desperate for the help now."

Alastor gently pressed his lips into her forehead, the tenseness he could feel from her dissipating from the comforting touch. When he pulled away he looked her up and down. "What is the outfit for? Have you found a way to visit the Wrath Ring," he teased, changing the subject.

She smiled. "I will be findin' a way to visit the Wrath Ring but no. All y'all overlords have your thing," she wiggled her fingers at him, "I figured my thing could be my irresistible southern charm."

"Darling, that would be my thing," he purred as he slowly brought his lips back to hers.

Dawn hummed, "but I do it so much better," she replied into his lips. Alastor chuckled as he started to push her onto her back over the desk. Dawn giggled. "Is this how you interview all your employees, Al?"

"Only the most tempting."

"Oh come on! I never got to do a real job interview. Preston always said I already had a job," she whined.

Alastor smirked, his hand trailing down her chest to fiddle with the thin sting that held her top together. "Alright then, chérie." 

Dawn threw her head back, her chest rising and falling rapidly, when he buried his face into her neck, kissing it lightly. His tongue dragged across her soft skin. "Tell me about yourself," he purred.

Her hands raked through his hair. "My name's Dawn Broussard," she answered through shaking breaths.

Alastor began to pull at the string of her top, letting it fall open and cupping her full breast. She squealed quietly when his fingers pinched her hardened nipple.

"Focus, Dawn," he smiled into her collarbone while pinching down harder.

Her knees tightened around his hips and she mindlessly rocked her own. "I died at twenty six years old - seven years ago," she gasped as he wrapped his mouth around her nipple, suckling hard.

Her nails dug into his scalp, forcing a moan from his chest. "Grew up in a church, got two sisters."

Alastor ripped her belt from its loops, reaching around her to unclasp the back of her pants over her tail. "Did you have a job in this church?"

She kicked off her boots and laid back onto his desk, making removing her pants much easier.

"I sang in the choir, I helped women look into their partners pasts, I-" she strangled out another moan, her back arched and her feathers ruffled, when his long tongue dragged over her core, shoving itself deep inside of her.

"How much were you able to see," he asked between the thrusts of his tongue. The way she quivered around him was driving him wild. Her talons extended and dug into the wood of his desk. Alastor never planned on repairing it.

"Anythin' and everythin'." 

His tongue curved and rubbed over the sensitive spot inside of her. She nearly let out a scream but his shadow was quick to appear behind her and cover her mouth. He felt her hot breath on his hands, the vibrations of her moans sent a shiver down his arms. Her legs locked together around his shoulders, pressing his head deeper into her. The idea of suffocating for her only made him work more purposefully. He wanted her to suffocate him.

Unable to ask any more questions in that position, Alastor wrapped his hands around her thighs and focused on pleasing her during the short lived intermission. Her loud cry was muffled by his shadows hands as she finished for him. She unfortunately released his head from between her thighs and allowed him to take a breath. 

He stood up, wrapping her tail around his hand to pull her hips to the edge of his desk. He quickly unclasped his pants to release his cock, desperate to be inside of her.

The shadow lost its hold for only a moment. She gasped at the sudden movement before biting at her lip and raking her eyes over him in that predatory manner that dissolved his pride into nothing. He would drop to his knees and pray to her if that was what she asked of him.

Rubbing himself over her wet core, he leaned down to kiss her neck again. "Would you look into anyone's past for me, little witch?"

"If you're good," she purred into his ear. "Are you gonna be good for me?"

How did she manage to knock the breath from him so easily? What command could she give that he would not obey to the best of his abilities? 

He nodded and focused on his breathing. He would be so good for her.

She rolled her hips in an attempt to create some friction between them. Her tail wrapped around his hips to pull him flesh with her body before reaching underneath him to guide his cock into her.

They both shuddered when he started his thrusting, kissing at her neck as he did so.

His shadow was quick to cover her mouth again while Alastor fucked her just the way she liked. Her nails tore into his back with abandon, telling him physically just how good he was being for her.

The urge to bite her flooded his mind. Fuck.

He quickly removed his mouth from her neck to bring his forehead to hers. It was better that way, now he could watch her come apart underneath him... safely.

"I must say, Mrs. Broussard, you are proving to be quite the worthy candidate," he quipped through labored breaths - desperately attempting to keep his mind off of her blood.

She giggled breathlessly into his shadows hands. The shade released her so that Alastor could bring his lips to hers and it could be more effective elsewhere. It disappeared and one of his shadow tendrils appeared in its place, wrapping around her waist and snaking down to rub at her clit.

Alastor groaned into her mouth when he felt her squeeze around him. He was always so surprised that it was even possible that she could get any tighter.

Though his mind screamed no, his body didn't listen. The urge to bite her was only getting worse. She didn't stop him as he slowly broke their kiss to bring his lips back down to her neck. His breathing picked up as he fought with everything he had to not bare his teeth.

The final straw came when she let out a dangerously loud, strangled moan and finished around him. His bad habit of biting her during the act in Purgatory only made this so much harder for him. 

His mouth opened, sharpened teeth readying to dig into her, before a blue muzzle wrapped around his mouth, stopping him at the last second. His claws dug into the desk as he came in her. Fuck.

After he finally came down from his climax, the muzzle dissipated from his maw and Dawn's hands were cupped around his chin, forcing him to look at her. He could feel tears sting in his eyes. If she hadn't stopped him, she would be bleeding out on his desk.

"Honey, you did real good," she reassured him.

He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. "I could have killed you," he whispered, his voice wavering.

Her lips met his softly. "It wouldn't have been permanent, hun. It's a whole lot harder to kill me now."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"Let's get cleaned up," she said gently, "they're gonna get suspicious if we're up here too long. They'll suspect we're up to no good."

Alastor groaned as he pulled away from her, snapping their clothes back in place. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was interact with the riffraff that Charlie let into her hotel... especially in this mood he had just put himself in. "Before we subject ourselves to them, perhaps some no good would be productive. What do you suppose we do about Lucifer and his daughter?"

Dawn sat up as her eyes focused and unfocused a few times before she blinked back into the present. "Well, their relationship is complicated to say the least. Lucifer hates bein' king but doesn't trust Charlie with the responsibility of bein' Queen of Hell. He's...odd, but prideful. He loves Charlie but doesn't know her well enough to reach out. It doesn't look like he even knows about the hotel even though she's told him multiple times. He may not trust her but he sure does push a lot of his responsibilities onto her. I don't think we'll be able to trick Lucifer into a deal but Charlie's desperate for validation, we could definitely trick her into a favor at least. We are the most powerful overlords in Hell, we could campaign for her to ascend the throne. But that still leads to Lucifer not allowin' that to happen. What do you suggest?"

Alastor thought for a moment. They didn't have a hundred years, Baphomet could figure out that Dawn was alive any day now. They needed to get Charlie to owe them a favor and to get her seated on the throne fast. He had overheard Vaggie suggesting to Charlie that she call her father for help with the hotel. Charlie refused to, of course, wanting to do it all on her own. "First, we need to get information that the princess is desperate for. We could tell her about Vaggie."

"No, we should keep that to ourselves for now. She might think we're tryin' to sabotage her somehow, that reveal is goin' to have to come out organically...maybe with a little push. Besides, it could keep Vaggie off our backs for a bit."

"Do you know why the extermination is coming sooner rather than later?"

Dawn bit her cheek. "No, they must have made that decision durin' the last extermination. It hasn't been a month yet but we'll also keep that in mind. I think for now, we just need to earn the princess' undyin' trust which honestly won't be that hard. We'll deal with the favor from Charlie when we find somethin'. Not much of a plan but better than no plan."

He sighed. Alastor hated all of this. He always had a concrete plan at all times, one that had been mulled over repeatedly and had no room for failure, with backup plans galore. But, of course, his personal Hell was fearing for his wife's safety every day. Whether it be by his own bloodlust or Baphomet finding her, there was hardly a thing he could do to protect her. They couldn't prepare as well as they needed to, just taking it day by day. It was killing him but he refused to give up. He would get his soul and he would protect her, he had no other choice. "I will see what my souls can find for now." He stood and kissed her forehead.

Dawn grabbed his jaw and kissed him deeply. He didn't know how she remained so calm about everything. She should have been digging herself into a hole so deep that Baphomet would never find her but, here she was, acting as though there wasn't an axe hanging over her head, the rope's braid snapping with each day that passed by. Eventually, it would drop and he just hoped that he could push her out of the way in time. 

Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh! Look what Rosie got me!"

She snapped and two angelic guns appeared on her hips, held in brown holsters to match her belt. She was really going all in on the whole cowboy look it seemed. "Should you be trusted with those," he teased.

Dawn scoffed. "Been playin' with guns since I was eight years old. I'm probably the only person you should trust with them."

He hummed, "I suppose. You did kill a few men with those however. Should the heathens in the streets be running in fear?" He hoped that they should. Alastor wished that he could join her on her nightly escapades but they agreed to let her gain power on her own, making a name for herself outside of 'The Radio Demon's wife'.

Dawn bit her lip. "Killed a few deer with them too. Looks like you should be runnin' the fastest, Radiohead."

Alastor smirked. "You couldn't catch me with your best efforts, chérie."

"Wanna bet," she giggled.

Alastor had seen what Dawn could do with a gun, her sisters taking them out shooting a few times on Earth. Dawn's favorite gun was the rifle and she was far too sharp a shooter for Alastor to want to look into the barrel of her gun. "Perhaps that game can be saved for another time."

"You're just scared I'll win, aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes and offered an arm. She took his arm as well as his lack of a response with a beaming smile. They appeared in the lobby in font of the rest of the hotel residents. Charlie and Vaggie paused their hushed conversation at the sight of them.

"Thank you for your time, sir. Hope to hear back from y'all soon!"

Alastor chuckled. "You can just call me Alastor, dear. You are a part of the team now after all."

Dawn raised her brows. "You're sayin' I'm hired?"

He hummed, rubbing his chin. "Hold that thought." He shadowed his way to the kitchen and he smelled it before he laid eyes on it.

Dawn's staff jumped when he manifested behind them, Jordan fainting at the sight of him. Alastor chuckled as he walked up to the pot on the stove. Jambalaya. Not just any jambalaya, his mother's recipe. It was the one he would always make for him and Dawn in Purgatory. He smiled softly as he shadowed back into the lobby.

"Welcome to The Hazbin Hotel, Dawn. Why don't we introduce the new kitchen manager to everyone, Charlie, before sitting for lunch."

Vaggie glared at them behind Charlie but the princess didn't notice as she enthusiastically shook Dawn's hand before leading her to the lobby to properly introduce her as the new hire of The Hazbin Hotel. Alastor followed behind them, smirking at Vaggie. "Smile, angel-face, you know you're never fully dressed without one!"

Her face paled as he chuckled past her. Oh, Dawn would be a wonderful addition to the team. The things he could dangle in front of the sinners, the entertainment would be endless.

Chapter Text

"Margarita. Hot as you can make it." 

Husk looked Dawn up and down. "Not a great idea for your first meeting, Dawn. I was an overlord once, you know. Those fuckers can smell weakness."

"Who said a marg makes you weak," Dawn mused.

Alastor placed a hand onto Dawn's shoulder. "She will be with me, Husker. Not a soul in there would dare touch her."

Husk rolled his eyes as he started to make her drink. "I'm pretty sure the entertainment of watching all of them pounce on her would be too good for you to pass up," he grumbled.

A deep growl bubbled in Alastor's chest. Husk may not have understood his relationship with Dawn but the audacity of his accusation did not sit well with him.

Husk noticed his ire and quickly dropped his gaze, focusing on Dawn's drink. He adorned her glass with some red salt-like garnish and poured her drink from the shaker, plucking out the jalapeños and dropping them into the margarita. "Don't worry about me, Husk, I can handle myself just fine."

Husk just gave her a curt nod before pouring Alastor his drink and quickly made himself scarce. Dawn smirked as she licked the edge of her glass before taking a sip. 

Alastor watched her carefully. "What is that?"

Dawn giggled at his clear struggle to keep his hands off of her. "It's tajin. Wanna try it?"

Alastor's turn to smirk. He grabbed the glass from her hand and licked the tajin from the edge while staring at her. Her throat bobbed as she watched him. 

It tasted like hot salt. Alastor found it enjoyable but not enjoyable enough to actually take a sip of her drink. Margaritas didn't taste terrible but it was still tequila. "Hm. Delicious, chérie. Though, I can think of a few things I'd rather run my tongue over," he whispered playfully.

She snatched the glass from his hand and took another sip. "That tongue ain't goin' anywhere near me with tajin on it. Learned that lesson the hard way."

Alastor had to suppress a sneer. He wasn't unaware that she had been with other people before she passed, he had past lovers himself, but it didn't stop him from wanting to tear those men to shreds for touching what was his. "I do hope you made him pay for it."

Dawn snickered. "She made it up to me just fine."

Alastor coughed on his drink at the revelation. After seven years of knowing each other, she still managed to drop bombs like that on him regularly. Something he knew that she found amusing. She was decades younger than him but she had somehow compiled together more mystery and secrets, that would take another lifetime for him to unravel completely, than he could ever dream of while making a conscious effort to do so. Dawn laughed at his reaction.

He cleared his throat quickly. "Finish your drink, chérie, we don't want to be late for our dramatic entrances."

She did as she was told while Alastor finished his own drink. She took his arm and they started to make their way out of the hotel when a familiar voice called out behind them. "Alastor!"

Alastor's shoulders tensed as he stopped to turn toward Vaggie. "We are off the clock, dear. Overlord business to attend to. I'm to ensure Dawn's safety during her first meeting, or have you forgotten?"

The angel stood behind them surrounded by the snake's sad excuses for goons. The egg-like creatures stumbled over with her, tripping on one another. "Sir Pentious' eggs are all over the place and I need you to get rid of them." 

His smile broadened, he wondered if they tasted like eggs. "Oh well in that case, I'd be delighted to!"

Vaggie narrowed her eye. "Humanely."

Alastor hummed, "well, that's a lot less fun."

"We'll take care of them on our way to the meetin'. By the way, you look heavenly today. Did you do somethin' with your hair," Dawn asked with a devious smirk. 

"Will you stop with that," Vaggie nearly whispered.

Dawn dropped her head to the side. "Stop with what, sugar?"

Vaggie scoffed and turned away from them, stomping as she made her way to Charlie in the main seating area, the princess talking animately to the other residents. Sir Pentious was the only one listening intently, Husk and Angel Dust too busy bickering to pay any attention. The spider demon had eased on his flirting with Alastor and had moved on to Husk, thankfully. He didn't know how many more innuendos he could take from the demon before he completely lost his composure and erased the fellow. Only God knew where Niffty was at the moment, likely preparing another one of her roach puppet shows to force everyone to sit through. Dawn had been sneaking away during the day to help the bug demon prepare for her weekly performances, helping her find the perfect flowers to decorate the roaches with. 

Alastor and Dawn walked towards the meeting taking place in The Weapon's District, run by the Weapon's Dealer and Overlord, Carmilla Carmine. Dawn walked a pace behind him, giggling as she made conversation with the eggs that followed them. "These little guys are funny, hun. Can we keep one?"

"Absolutely not."

One of the eggs that sat on Dawn's shoulder raised a hand. "Can I touch your staff thing?"

Another egg raised a hand. "What are the antlers for?"

Then another. "Bank accounts are a scam created by the shadow government!"

Alastor's eye twitched as his smile became more pained. Dawn laughed. "Close enough, little egg guy." Alastor felt his shadow pinching her cheek as it pet the egg creature sitting on her shoulder. "Willoughby likes them."

Alastor's ears perked up as he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Willoughby?" 

She giggled as his shadow appeared next to him, chest puffed as its smile nearly split its face in half.

"You agreed to Willoughby?" Alastor asked with an incredulous smile. The shadow enthusiastically nodded its head. Alastor turned back to Dawn. "Why Willoughby?"

Dawn scoffed. "I knew you weren't listenin' when I was explainin' the album."

Alastor gasped and brought his hand to his chest in mock offense. "Of course I was listening, chérie." He was not. Not because he didn't care, what he did hear was interesting, but he was quite distracted by the way the light coming through the windows in Purgatory seemed to dance in her eyes as she excitedly broke down each lyric and song for him. "You named him after the cannibal."

His shadow crossed its arms and glared at him. Apparently not.

"At least Willoughby listens to me," she muttered. The shadow stuck a glowing tongue out at Alastor as its thumbs pressed into its temples, hands splayed out. 

Alastor was in competition with his own shadow, over his own wife... and losing. He was seconds away from leashing the thing permanently before it began to charade a drawing of a house. "Ah! I remember now. Willoughby was Miss Cain's first and true love." The shadow threw him a thumbs up before falling back into place at his feet.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't watch Willoughby give you the answer."

He chuckled as he opened the door to Carmine's office building to allow her in. "I've no idea what you are referring to, chérie."

Dawn rolled her eyes as she herded the eggs into the building, much to Alastor's annoyance, before walking past him. "What state was the house in, Radiohead?"

"Nebraska," Alastor answered smugly. 

Dawn turned away quickly but not fast enough for Alastor to miss the small smile that crept onto her face.

They made their way to the elevator. When they entered, Alastor stamped his staff on the ground in front of the group of eggs, blocking them from joining. "No, no. I have a very important task for you. Guard the front until I return."

The eggs saluted him as they followed his directions, standing guard in front of the elevator they rode. This was humane enough, he wasn't the one killing them.

The egg on Dawn's shoulder spoke up, "what about me, boss?"

She smiled as Alastor turned to face them, growling at the creature he had somehow missed. "Remain unseen until told otherwise," he gritted out. 

Dawn helped the egg off her shoulder and onto the ground. When they stepped off the elevator, the egg did as he was told...well enough. His talent for stealth left much to be desired but most overlords had made their way into the board room by this time, there wasn't anyone in the hallway to see the dumb thing. 

Alastor turned to Dawn, kissing her gently. She was almost never nervous, but in that moment he saw right through her false smile and listened to her heartbeat picking up ever so slightly. He ran a thumb over her cheek. "You are the most terrifying sinner in this building, chérie. Only an idiot would dare take you on."

She sighed. "Should I go in first? Your entrance will be more dramatic if you're the last one to sit."

"And miss their faces paling as the ruthless overlord they've been whispering about reveals herself to be the most beautiful demon in Hell?" Dawn's smile became much more relaxed as she looked at him with those eyes that drove him wild. "I think not." 

Alastor kissed her knuckle before departing down the hallway and into the board room. His grand entrance was ruined by Vox's attempt to defame him after his return, only a few of the overlords looking at him in surprise as he took his seat next to Rosie. The Cannibal Overlord leaned in to whisper in his ear, "letting Dawn have her own dramatic entrance, Alastor? You must really love the girl," she teased. 

He smirked at her as he rolled his eyes before attempting to lead her in casual conversation while he waited patiently for his wife to make her grand entrance. A few minutes passed and Alastor could feel the worry in his mind coming to the forefront. Was she alright? Did she change her mind about coming to the meeting? The Vee's were noticeably absent from the room. Did one of them find her while she was alone out there? No, that was a ridiculous thought. Even if one of them had run into her, he had no doubt that Dawn would have had them handled in an instant. 

Rosie huffed a laugh when she noticed his not so sly glances towards the door, distracting from their conversation about...what were they talking about again? Just as he was about the ask Rosie to repeat herself, the doors opened. Dawn's hat covered her eyes as she stood in the doorway, the room quieting as all heads snapped towards her. 

She said nothing as she lifted her head, her eyes scanning the room. Rosie kicked his shin lightly, bringing focus to his lovesick gaze. He shook his head slightly to reign in his expression. They wouldn't reveal their marriage until the time was right. She needed to prove herself to them, prove that she was not his weakness and he was not her's. They were just as powerful together as they were apart. No one would threaten them. 

Dawn took a seat at the head of the table, crossing her legs at the ankle as she relaxed into her chair. Her mouth quirked up into a smirk as she turned to the large dinosaur overlord he was almost sure was named Zilla. "Is there somethin' on my face?"

Zilla laughed loudly. "Who the hell are you?"

Dawn reached out a hand in greeting. "Name's Dawn."

The Reptile Overlord sized her up through a smile before grabbing her hand. "Zilla."

Ah-ha! He was right about the name. The tension in the room lessened significantly as Dawn's calm nature put everyone at ease. Her eyes only glazed over a few times as she looked around to the other overlords, giving Alastor a heated look as her eyes landed on him before moving on to the other sinners in the room. Her expression only truly changed when she finished the vision she had while staring at the overlord sitting to her left. That one was Teddy, Alastor only knew this because they did get compared a lot; both known for their brutality and charm. 

Dawn's eyes widened at the eel-like sinner and her mouth hung open. Teddy must have felt her gaze on him, he turned to her with an easy smile. "Can I help you, beautiful?"

Rosie's hand grazed Alastor's when he sneered at the demon, reminding him that now was not the time to claim her as his wife. Dawn could handle this on her own.

Dawn cleared her throat as she blinked at him, still a bit more wide eyed than he knew she was intending. "Can you...uh..." she cleared her throat again, "I'm good. Thanks."

Teddy gave her a curious look before shrugging and turning back to his conversation with the overlord next to him. Alastor looked around to ensure that everyone was distracted by their own conversations before looking back to Dawn and tilting his head in question. She stared at the back of Teddy's head cautiously before subtly turning to face Alastor. 'Bundy' she mouthed.

Bundy? Oh, yes. The serial killer that Zach asked him about when they first met. He wondered where Zach would end up when he died. Was he considered guilty for marrying Dusk? He knew that she had a hand in the murders that Dawn committed, he must have been destined for Hell as well. Won't he be excited to hear about Ted Bundy in Hell. 

The doors opened again, revealing Carmilla Carmine. The room quieted, the only sound being the sharp metallic click of her pointed ballet shoes as she walked to the head of the table across from Dawn, her two daughters following close behind. "Welcome, Hell's sovereign overlords. I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together, you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new extermination schedule." She pounded her fist onto the table. "We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest." Her gaze scanned around the table, landing on Alastor. "Alastor?"

Perhaps his mysterious reveal wasn't completely ruined, Carmilla seemed surprised by his presence. "Yes, I know I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering-"

"Not really," Carmilla interrupted. A small warble of dead air escaped from the microphone he had leaning against the table next to him. Alastor's face changed into a sneer as he glared at the weapon's dealer. What ever happened to respecting your elders? Your betters? 

Both of their attentions were stolen by a small snicker at the other end of the table. Dawn had her fist covering her mouth in an attempt to conceal her laughter, she was failing miserably. 

"And you are?" 

Dawn lifted her chin up, dropping her hand from her face. "Dawn."

"This meeting is invite only. Who are you here with?"

Alastor opened his mouth to answer but Rosie kicked his shin again before answering for him. "I invited her. What can I say? The girl's got charisma."

Carmilla gave The Cannibal a nod. Rosie was one of the oldest overlords in all of Hell, it would have been suicide to question her. Kind as she may come off, she was well respected and feared. Alastor had even feared her at one point, hearing wild tales of the evil cannibal woman when he first came to Hell. She stopped him in the streets one day to compliment his Hellish radio show, even offering some souls to clean up the mess of blood and gore he left behind. The meat was put to good use in the Cannibal Town meat market. They made fast friends, she was the one that invited him to his first overlord meeting

The weapon's dealer continued with the meeting. "This year's Extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost. With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we-"

The meeting was interrupted by the youngest of the Vee's, Velvette, The Fashion Overlord of Hell. The short demon in pink and blue pigtails spoke loudly into the phone as she took a seat to Dawn's right, saying Vox's name loud enough for Alastor to hear. Velvette gave Dawn a dangerous smirk, to which she returned. The little demon must have seen what Dawn could do, or was at least told by Vox, seeing as she quickly turned away from Dawn's gaze. "...thank you, V. See you soon. Kisses, darling." She hung up the call as leaned back into her chair.

"Nice of you to join us, Velvette," Carmilla gave her an incredulous look, "Will your... colleagues be joining?"

Velvette scoffed. "No, they have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent," she answered smugly.

Carmilla looked as though she was being paid to suppress an eyeroll as she stared at the demon. "Charming. So, as I was saying, we need to discuss-" Velvette's hand shot up into the air. "Yes, Velvette?"

"On the subject of discussion..." Velvette stood and threw something onto the table. The helmet was leaking golden liquid and landed with a sickening plop in front of Alastor. It was an exorcist's decapitated head. The head of the un-killable creature that tormented Hell. The head of the creature that Charlie wanted to stay out of Hell.

Alastor peered at Dawn out of the corner of his eye, she looked frustrated as she chased a vision she couldn't find. She sighed deeply as she looked at him, disappointed, and slowly shook her head. The angel must have been killed in the last extermination, having taken place just before Alastor and Dawn dropped into Hell. It would still be another week at least before Dawn would be able to see what exactly killed the angel.

"Where did you get this," Carmilla asked darkly

Velvette crossed her arms and smiled. "We found it during Extermination day. If these Holy Rollers can be killed, the game has changed. We can take the fight to them. The boys and I have come up with a full assault plan-"

"You mean to start a war with Heaven," Carmilla interrupted. "Has no one told you why the exterminations began in the first place?"

Dawn's eyes narrowed slightly, her head tilting to the side as she watched Carmilla's reaction. Alastor understood the question that she was asking, Carmilla didn't seem at all surprised that an exorcist's head laid on the table in front of her, she was only upset that the Vee's were planning a mutiny. 

Velvette seemed to notice the same thing, given the smug look on her face. "Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab? Or is it something else? Anything you would like to share with the class?"

"This meeting is adjourned," Carmilla stated firmly.

Velvette and Carmilla stared at each other tensely for another long moment before Velvette shrugged. "Hm. Fine. Safe travels back to the nursing home, fuckers!"

The confused overlords began to stand, a few stopping Dawn on their way out to make their introductions. Most were harmless, simple handshakes, but when he overheard one ask her to meet with him one on one Alastor jumped to interrupt. Her eyes were wide and full of discomfort as she attempted to keep a civil conversation with the demon.

"Mrs. Dawn, would you like an escort back to the hotel? I believe that you mentioned a meeting with your staff this afternoon?" Alastor's neck cracked as he slowly turned to the overlord with a flaming skull for a head that was either trying to trick his wife into a deal or get her alone for other nefarious reasons. Either way, he would be the next weeks guest on his radio show.

The overlord Alastor didn't care to remember the name of knitted his brows at him until he finally got the hint and quickly walked out of the room.

Dawn sighed. "Thank you, hu- Alastor," she caught herself before using the pet name she called him often.

Rosie walked up to them, Carmilla in tow. "I'm sorry your first meeting was cut so short, Dawn. Would you join me in my office? I have paperwork for you to fill now that you will be recognized as one of Hell's Overlords."

"Y'all don't gotta wait up on me. I'll see you at the hotel, Alastor. And it is a pleasure as always Rosie."

Alastor laughed. "Nonsense, darling! I will be outside enjoying the weather with Rosie."

Rosie nodded in agreement. "Alastor and I have no issue waiting."

Alastor had gotten so used to having Dawn all to himself in the seven years that they spent together in Purgatory that he hardly knew how to share her. It was one thing when her sisters pulled her aside, he was still always there, but leaving her with Carmilla felt so unnerving. The overlord didn't scare him, nor was he afraid of her doing something to Dawn. He remembered the paperwork that she would be signing, most were simple treaties between overlords, they hardly meant anything seeing as overlords killed each other often. Carmilla's office had been very much proofed to protect from any magic so his shadow couldn't join her. At least when she was with Rosie, his shadow could ensure her safety.

Dawn must have seen his hesitance to leave her alone. She gave him a soft smile as she looked around the room to ensure that they were the only ones there before snapping. Carmilla was frozen in place.

"Her daughters went down the hall, they looked suspicious. Willoughby won't be able to go in but you know who can," she smirked.

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he tried to piece together what she was scheming. He didn't have to wait long for the answer before the egg creature that was, surprisingly, hidden throughout the short meeting came running from under the table, chasing a butterfly made of blue sand.

Rosie gasped and laughed watching the little thing be led to the three of them, well, four if one could consider the statue that was Carmilla a part of the grouping.

"Oh, well if that isn't just adorable." Rosie leaned down to look at the egg who stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the three overlords smiling down on him. 

"Oh, uh, boss?"

Alastor pointed his cane toward the hallway. "Find Clara and Odette. Remain unseen and report back to me what you hear."

The egg straightened and saluted at him before running down the hallway to follow his order. Dawn grabbed Alastor by his shoulders to position him correctly, before doing the same to Rosie, then she struck her pose and snapped again. Carmilla unfroze and cracked her neck with a confused look on her face. "What was that?"

Dawn dropped her head to the side and feigned her own confusion. "What was what?"

Carmilla's eyes narrowed. "You snapped."

Of course another overlord would have noticed that little action, those that possess magic found it easier to snap rather than focus enough to force something to happen. 

Rosie felt at her pockets, pulling out a small object. She clicked a button and it produced a large umbrella. "Oh, that is so kind of you, Dawn. I almost forgot we had acid rain on the forecast for today."

Dawn smiled. "Of course, ma'am. Don't want your skin meltin'."

Rosie scoffed. "What have I said about using my name? You sound like he did when I met him," she gestured to Alastor.

Dawn laughed. "You might have to beat it out of me, Rosie. Some habits never die."

Carmilla hummed but the suspicions slowly fell from her expression. "Follow me, Dawn."

"Yes, ma'am."

Dawn followed Carmilla down the hall and into her office. The door shut and Alastor heard the click of the lock from all the way down the hall. "You had that in your pocket the entire time didn't you?"

Rosie closed the umbrella. "I never forget the forecast, dear."

Alastor laughed as he escorted Rosie down the hall, leading her into the elevator. Unfortunately, the eggs were still in one piece when the doors opened onto the first floor. Rosie laughed at his smiling grimace as they walked outside, the group of eggs following and continuing their inane questions to which Alastor ignored. 

There was only a light drizzle but it was still acid so Rosie covered them with her umbrella while they waited for Dawn and the egg to finish their meetings.

"What are you two up to? Dawn won't tell me."

"I've already told you, Rosie, we can only tell you so much."

Rosie frowned. "It has to do with the princess, I know that. You're not trying for her soul are you?"

Her soul would've been wonderful but only a favor was needed. Besides, once he got his soul back, what need would he have for Charlie's? A target would already be painted on his back for Lucifer to shoot at when he reached his full power, owning his daughter's soul would only anger him further. If there really was not way to kill The Devil and perhaps become king himself, he would need to get Dawn as far away from Hell as he can. The Fates be damned, he was dragging her soul out of Hell. Perhaps Mount Olympus would allow them passage. She was the daughter of Time, she should be well respected there even with her soul stolen. The greeks were very proud beings, Chronos likely wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"No, I have no use for her soul."

Rosie gawked at him. "No use? She's royalty! I didn't take you for someone who would pass up on the opportunity."

"Our opportunities will be endless if all goes according to plan."

"If your plan works, am I gonna reap any of the benefits? Or are you gonna just keep them all to yourself?"

Ah, Rosie. As friendly as she was, she was still an overlord. As overlords are, she was always looking for a way to get ahead. "Perhaps a home cooked meal. I know how you love the seafood here in Hell." 

Rosie scoffed. "Better be a squid sinner. I want calamari."

Alastor laughed. Of course he would repay Rosie for all of her help with Dawn. What that gift would be, he hadn't figured out. Once he knew the full potential of his magic, he would gift her with whatever he could give her. 

It only took about half of an hour of waiting before Dawn was running out the front door, an egg held tightly to her chest. She smiled wide. "You're not gonna believe what Frank found out!"

"Frank?" Alastor asked as he ordered his shadow to shield her from the rain.

Dawn made it up to him and put the egg on the ground before gripping his biceps excitedly. "The egg. Hun, Carmine killed the angel. Her daughters were talkin' about it."

Alastor framed her face with his hands and his smile broadened. "This is perfect, chérie! Charlie would give anything for this information."

Dawn giggled as she jumped to wrap herself around him for a kiss. "I think we should keep this a secret for a bit. Figure out how she killed the angel. Wait 'til she's real desperate. Then we strike."

Rosie cleared her throat subtly, reminding them that they were in public. Begrudgingly, he loosened his grip on his wife while she dropped back to the ground. Alastor still didn't take his hands off of her hips. "Wait? We are on a bit of a time constraint, darling."

That was an understatement. For all they knew, Baphomet already knew that she had survived her first few weeks in Hell and could have been suspicious, waiting for her to have the vision that should kill her, then there was figuring out how to place Charlie on the throne. They didn't have a moment to spare on waiting.

"No, no. We gotta wait! Maybe even the whole six months. She needs to be beyond desperate. She was raised in Hell, hun, she knows an overlord scheme when she sees one. I don't think she trusts either of us yet but trust won't matter much when the impendin' doom of her friends dyin' will make her an easier target. You gotta trust me on this."

Alastor sighed and opened his mouth to argue. She was right, as always, but her life was also on the line. His life. 

Rosie interrupted him before he could make his point. "Where did you find this one, Alastor? She's worse than you!"

Dawn smirked. "Worse? I think I'm better, ma-Rosie."

Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose. This was a gamble he absolutely did not wish to make but he was left with no choice. "What do we do about them?" He pointed to the egg creatures that had heard and seen entirely too much and needed to be disposed of.

Dawn squatted down. "You guys gonna tell anyone what you witnessed today?"

The eggs looked at each other and shrugged. The one she called Frank turned her. "What did we witness again?"

"Exactly! Today didn't happen! You're all dreamin'," she answered brightly.

"Okay!" The eggs nodded their heads, accepting what she said as the truth.

Dawn stood back up. "We should take them back to Pentious to say goodbye before we scramble them," she whispered.

Alastor smiled, she always knew what to say to cheer him up. "I suppose we should."

They said their goodbyes to Rosie and made their way back to the hotel. The second they walked through the doors, the eggs following close behind, Vaggie called out to them from the second story balcony. "Alastor. Dawn. Failed to get rid of the eggs, I see."

Alastor hummed, "yes, well, the little monsters prove to be rather useful."

"These little angels were so patient durin' the meetin'. Couldn't bring ourselves to say bye," Dawn sneered.

Vaggie glared down at Dawn. "Why don't you give them back to Pentious."

Dawn and Vaggie continued their hateful staring contest as Sir Pentious excitedly slithered towards his minions. "Really," he asked with tears in his eyes.

Vaggie's gaze broke from Dawn and softened as she looked towards Pentious. "Yeah. After today, I guess I can trust you with them. But seriously, no more weapons."

Alastor placed a hand on Dawn's shoulder. "Mrs. Dawn, will you join me in my office? I would like to speak to you about my specific diet restrictions."

She nodded before he guided them through the shadows and into their bedroom. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, chérie, but perhaps you're a bit too harsh on Vaggie. She is the closest person to the princess in this hotel, we do need her cooperation."

Dawn sighed. "Sorry, hun. I just-" 

"I understand, dear. You watched your mother die. It's only natural. But for your safety, I must ask that you play a bit nicer."

"You askin' me to play nice? Pigs must've grown wings," she joked.

He smiled softly as he pulled her to his chest, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Or perhaps Hell has frozen over," he offered, hoping that Dusk's premonition of Dawn's soul being returned to her was nothing more than just a silly play on words.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I don't think it's that easy, Radiohead." She giggled, "if I got my soul back every time the tables turned, I would be Queen of Hell by now."

Alastor leaned down to kiss her. "And what a Queen you will be."

She hummed into his lips as they lost themselves in each other, Alastor savoring every moment. Her plan would work...it had to.

Chapter Text

Alastor's shadow shook him awake, restless. Dawn was lying on Alastor's chest, her steady breathing fanning the stray hair that was laying over her face. He let out a quiet groan, not wanting to leave the particularly comfortable position but more so not wanting to wake her. She was always so irritable when she was woken before she was ready, which was never of course. 

His shadow gently shook him again. "I'm awake," he growled at the impatient thing. The shadow tapped its foot while waiting for him to wake fully. Alastor rolled his eyes as he nodded his head at the shade, instructing him to take his place so as to not wake his wife while he snuck away to pick up her present.

Today was their one year wedding anniversary and he had planned the entire day for them, away from the hotel. He snapped his clothes on, then traveled through the shadows and manifested behind a tiger-like demon. "Good afternoon, Greg!"

Greg yelped and spun around to face Alastor. "Afternoon, boss," he answered while attempting to catch his breath.

"I'm in a bit of a rush today, I would advise that you get this done in a timely manner."

Greg nodded quickly and rushed into the library they stood in front of. The building was nearly empty. Sad, really. Sinners may have lost touch with the arts and histories throughout the years but did no one wish to remain well read? Even for entertainment purposes? Vox ruined Hell when he began his dreadful television empire, demons looking for a quick fix rather than finding joy in the simple activities that required even the smallest bit of brain power.

"Alastor! Funny seeing you here."

Speak of the damned devil. Alastor spun on his heel to face The Television Demon. "Vox."

Greg stared between the two overlords, last time he saw them in a room together they were friends, more so acquaintances in Alastor's eyes. He wanted Vox's power, his influence, Alastor wanted to strike a deal. Vox misunderstood his intentions, clearly. Their relationship was much different now. Time was still strange to him. The knowledge of knowing where he had been for the last seven years hardly registering as his body still felt as though the demon's lips were forced onto his only a month ago. He felt the ghost of Vox's lips on his. No. That was something else. Oh, dear. Dawn was awake.

Vox smirked as he watched Alastor's body tense. If only he knew that it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the demon whose lips he actually wanted on his. Alastor's smile widened as he felt her soft kisses on his neck. "I'm afraid I don't have time for your idea of conversation. Important day and all."

Vox's brow raised. "And what's so important about today?"

Alastor turned to Greg. "What are you doing standing here, chum? I believe my instructions were quite clear." 

Greg stiffened before he slowly nodding and running toward the computers.

He turned back to Vox. "What are you doing here? Honestly, Vox, desparation looks dreadful on you."

Vox's eyes narrowed. "Desperation?"

His shadow's hands roamed Dawn with vigor, gripping the softness that Alastor recognized as her backside. The timing was horrific but he didn't have it in him to stop it. Even miles away, the way she felt was perfect. Besides, it was his shadow's job to keep her distracted, it would do him no good to put an end to her fun. "Oh, am I mistaken, old pal? Say, what brings you to the barren Pentagram City Library?" His shadow stared to kiss down Dawn's body, bringing its mouth to her core. He could taste her, feel her hand gripping his antler as his shadow feasted on her. 

Alastor's claws dug into the mic guard on his cane. Vox's brows knitted. "Just came to check out a book. It's a library," he replied, his voice dripping with snark.

Alastor was not entirely sure that the demon knew how to read, he had never seen him with a book in his hands. He knew for a fact that Vox had been keeping a close eye on the souls that Alastor owned, attempting to track him down and get him alone.

Dawn's nail's dug into his shadow's scalp. He softly grunted at the sensation. Alastor took a shaking breath. "As invigorating as this conversation has been, I'm afraid I must be on my way. Feel free to send another useless spy to the hotel, perhaps I'll send you the leftovers."

Alastor turned towards where Greg was completing his task when he felt Vox's hand on his arm. "Al, wait."

Alastor growled at the contact and the audacity to refer to him with such familiarity after everything. "I just...I need to talk to you...about us."

The shadow slipped its fingers into Dawn, her hips bucking into its mouth. His jaw feathered. "Us," he gritted out. "There is no us, Richard," Alastor hissed.

Vox dropped his hand. "Who was that woman," he rasped.

"Ah, yes. Mrs. Dawn. Terrifying isn't she? I've employed her at that little hotel I'm sponsoring but you already knew that." She clenched around his shadows fingers, her thighs tightening around its head. Alastor let out a sigh, he wouldn't let Vox ruin his mood. Today was for him and Dawn.

Greg walked back over to the two overlords. He presented two pieces of folded paper and handed them to Alastor, quickly exiting the building with a submissive nod.

"Alastor, I've come to warn you," Vox replied sincerely. "Her power, it's nothing like I've ever felt before. She could destroy you... I can protect you if you'd just talk to me. What I heard, I know it was fake. I know that wasn't you...it can't have been. Imagine if she showed someone else," he pleaded.

Alastor rolled his eyes. Better Vox thought that whatever vision Dawn had shared with him in her attempt to anger him was nothing more than an illusion than him know the truth. He was the last person that needed to know of their marriage.

Alastor's shadow continued thoroughly distracting the woman in question. "Is this another attempt to convince me to join your merry band of idiots? I can assure you, Dawn is no threat to me. I cannot say the same for you, old pal. Do try her though, I would love to see the outcome."

Vox huffed his annoyance, his screen glitching as his anger bubbled over. "You're gonna regret this," he said through gritted teeth.

Alastor laughed. "I highly doubt that."

With that, Alastor dissolved into an inky black puddle and manifested in place of his shadow. Dawn squealed when he appeared to continue what his shadow was in the middle of, giggling as he chuckled into her core. "Where've you been," she asked breathlessly. "Willoughby was suspiciously eager to shut me up this mornin'."

The feeling of her was no different when his shadow took care of her, but watching her fight the flutter in her eyes as he pleasured her was just so much more satisfying. He hummed into her, her back arching in response. Her line of questioning quickly dissipated as he did to her what no one else could. 

His shadow covered her mouth as she screamed his name and Alastor drank what she gifted him. Once he had lapped up every last drop, he crawled over her, bringing his lips to hers. "Happy anniversary, chérie," he purred into her mouth.

She smiled up at him. "Happy anniversary, Radiohead. You didn't answer me."

He bought his lips back to hers with a smirk. "In a moment. Right now, I'd like to watch you shiver in anticipation." 

Dawn rolled her eyes and giggled. "Okay, Dr. Frank N. Furter."

He looked down at her with a confused expression. "I don't know what doctor you're referring to but I don't appreciate another man's name on your lips, little witch."

She laughed. "He's not much of a man by the light of day."

Alastor's eyelids lowered in annoyance. "You're making another joke I don't understand." 

She bit her lip and nodded her head, trying very hard to contain her laughter.

"I don't appreciate this game, chérie," he purred. The feathers on her wings ruffled with the anticipation Alastor was looking for. "Now, be a doll and help me out of these clothes. It is awfully hot in here."

Alastor gave her a devilish smile as she did exactly as she was told, he shrugged off his coat, then his shirt. Her hands fumbled with his belt impatiently. Eventually, her patience ran out completely, as it usually did, and she snapped the rest of his clothing away. He smirked as he consumed them in shadow, bringing them into the bathroom where the shower was already running at the perfect temperature. 

Her head dropped to the side. "You tryin' to tell me somethin', Radiohead?"

He laughed. "No, no, chérie. I just know that today you're going to want to do your entire routine. I thought I would join you for the first bit."

"Ooh! You got a fancy dinner planned?"

Alastor leaned down to kiss her. "A splendid guess, but no. Something much more exciting."

Before she could question further, he pulled her into the shower. He wasted no time, his hands roaming her body. She moaned into his lips as he leaned down to grip the back of her thighs. She jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist. 

Dawn had been so kind as to add a grip to their shower floor for his hooves. An addition that certainly came in handy should he become overwhelmed in the temptation of her.

Her back met the wall, her wings ruffling, as he lined himself up at her entrance. Her tail wrapped around him and guided his cock inside. They both gasped at the sensation. She was absolutely drenched.

Alastor rutted into her savagely, her teeth digging into his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her screams. He groaned too loudly as her claws punctured the skin of his back. Would he ever get over how amazing this felt? "Dawn," he whispered breathlessly into her ear. She whimpered as he gripped onto her harder. 

With a loud cry into his shoulder, she clenched around him. He pulled her head up by her hair and crashed his lips into hers, his best attempt to quiet himself as he came inside her. He held her tightly until the pumping finally came to a finish.

They pulled apart and rested their foreheads together, staring into each other's glowing red eyes as they caught their breath. With a tender kiss, he slowly dropped her to her feet. He caught her when her legs threatened to give in, both laughing breathlessly as they did their best to focus on the task at hand.

After they finished their shower, he handed her a towel to dry herself. She giggled as she flicked her soaked wings at him, he returned the favor with a shake of his head, his ears flapping and sending water flying at her. She squealed as she attempted to shield herself with her towel.

He chuckled. "Alright, chérie, don't take too long. This present does have a time limit."

She smirked. "I never take too long."

Alastor rolled his eyes as he wrapped a towel around himself and left their bathroom. There was a knock on the door and he groaned. Today was their day off. It wasn't like there was much to do anyhow, what with only two guests in the hotel, only one of them actually putting in any effort into Charlie's delusional dream. 

He snapped on a pair of slacks and a red dress shirt before opening the door. "What," he asked shortly.

At the door stood Dawn's soul, Jordan. The goat demon that lead the hotel kitchen trembled at the sight of him. Did she have to pick a goat to be her closest servant? The irony of owning the soul of a creature that resembled the being that owned her soul was not lost on him. Alastor couldn't deny, owning a goat would feel a bit cathartic. Perhaps that was why she chose him.

Jordan cleared his throat. "D-Dawn asked that I bring this to you, s-sir." He held up a silver tray topped with a matching cloche. 

Alastor snapped and a group of shadows that resembled voodoo dolls appeared to take the tray from the trembling goat and set up his table that sat at the opening of the pocket bayou. Jordan jumped as he watched the minions do his job for him. Country music began to play loudly from the bathroom, Jordan's head dropping to the side when he heard it. 

Alastor gave him a sinister smile. "Good day, chum." The door slammed in the sinner's face and he turned to enjoy whatever it was that Dawn had prepared for him. He smiled softly as he stood over the covered tray. What had the little witch planned for him now? He carefully lifted the cloche, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was on the plate. 

He ran into the bathroom where Dawn stood over the counter, still naked and drying her hair. Her head snapped to him. "Al? You alright?"

He beamed at her. "Where did you get human meat?" His eyes were wide and excited. Not even Jeffery was able to supply any for his restaurant in Cannibal Town.

Dawn snickered. "Oh, is it hard to come by or somethin'?"

He laughed. He hadn't eaten human meat since before his death, unless drinking Dawn's blood in Purgatory counted. But she wasn't entirely human then, never was. "How?"

"There's a company of imps that travel to Earth as hired assassins. I just sent them to kill a guy who absolutely deserved it and bring me back the body. They don't ask as many questions as they probably should." She returned to drying her hair before stopping. "Oh! I had Tony track him down for you. You can have him on your next broadcast. He's sittin' pretty in your radio tower right now." 

Tony was one of the souls that she didn't employ in the hotel. He was much more useful as a spy, taking some of the pressure to keep an eye on the happenings in Hell off of Dawn herself. He was the reason that Alastor knew his souls were already being watched by Vox. 

He grabbed her waist to twist her body toward him and kissed her deeply. She giggled into his mouth. "Go eat your food before it gets cold."

He hummed, "alright, chérie." He kissed her once more before heading back to his bayou and enjoying the meal. Human meat put any and all sinner's meat to shame. Rosie was going to strangle him if she found out that he didn't save any for her. 

Dawn must have snapped at one point because a large wine glass of blood appeared in front of him as he ate. He could smell that it was Dawn's and much more than she usually served him. He hoped that this was a collection and not fresh, especially given his still lacking control when it came to warm blood. With a sip, he sighed in relief when the fluid was cool. 

Dawn only took about an hour, magic definitely helping her to get ready in a much more timely manner since arriving in Hell. She walked out of the bathroom still naked, hair and makeup done beautifully as always. "Alright, now you gotta tell me where we're goin'. I don't know what to wear."

Alastor snapped and Dawn was in her usual outfit, guns on her hips and all. He, however, sported a much more appropriate outfit for the day's activities. He kept his red and black color scheme for the most part but his usual red dress shirt was replaced by a white one, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and covered by a red vest. His slacks stayed black but were held up by a belt adorned with a black stag buckle. The outfit was accessorized with a red cowboy hat, his ears and antlers peaking through the top, a black and red bolo tie around his neck and finally black cowboy boots.

Dawn's mouth fell open while he stood there with a smirk. "While it is impossible for sinners to enter the Wrath Ring, I thought I'd bring the Wrath Ring to us." He held out his hand and the two pieces of paper he had Greg collect for him appeared. 

Dawn snatched one out of his hand and unfolded it. Her eyes brightened as she excitedly bounced on her toes, a grin to rival his own taking over the lower half of her face. "A rodeo? In the Pride Ring?" She squealed as she jumped up and down. 

Alastor chuckled. "Yes, in the second circle. Imp City to be exact."

"How did I miss this? That's where the assassins were from!"

"I assume they don't regularly invite overlords to these things."

Her head snapped to him. "You figured out how to order tickets online? All on your own?"

He shook his head with a roguish smile. "One of my younger souls completed that task for me. I will continue to die on my hill."

Dawn jumped on him, wrapping around his body. "This is amazin', hun! We gotta get goin'!" She kissed him excitedly as he chuckled into her lips. 

They made their way downstairs to let the others know that they would be out for the day. Angel let out a wolf whistle at the sight of them. "Save a horse, am I right?" He smirked at Alastor and wiggled his brows. Alastor didn't understand the reference but he did not enjoy Angel's suggestive tone.

Charlie popped up from behind the couch. "Oh! Where are you two going? We were just about to start show and tell!"

"Al's takin' me to the rodeo. Ain't that sweet?"

Charlie jumped up. "That sounds so fun!" She turned to the rest of the group that sat in the lobby with her. "Doesn't that sound fun guys?"

Alastor stiffened, his staff warbling. "I'm afraid I only have two tickets, my dear. This is my welcoming gift for Mrs. Dawn after all."

Husk's head peaked around the couch, his eyes narrowed as he watched him and Dawn suspiciously. Alastor raised a brow in warning, the cat demon swallowing hard as he turned around to mind his own.

The princess placed a hand over her heart. "Aw, that's so sweet of you, Al. It's so nice to see you making friends. I hope you two have fun!"

"We will," Dawn shouted as a cloud of shadow enveloped them, transporting them to the heart of Imp City. She gasped when she saw the entrance. 'WRATH RODEO' in bold letters featured over the archway that the excited imps lined up before.  

Alastor had to duck as he handed the imp standing at the entrance their tickets. The demon trembled as he took the tickets and placed wristbands on them. Dawn's expression softened. "Thank you, sir," she said sincerely.

The imp's brows furrowed. "Of course, ma'am," he answered hesitantly.

Dawn skipped into the carnival and Alastor gave a nod to the confused imp before entering behind her. The crowded festival parted for them as they made their way through. She made no sign of noticing that the imps were visibly terrified of them, smiling and waving sweetly at anyone who dared to look at her.

Unfortunately, the rides were not quite sinner compatible, given that most imps were only about four feet tall. Dawn didn't let that sour her mood in the slightest, racing to the petting zoo filled with native wrathian farm animals. Even Alastor found the beasts fascinating, having never gotten the chance to see them for for himself. 

Dawn giggled as she let what looked like a crossbreed between a tarantula and a mule eat a suspicious pile of kibble from her palm. Its glistening black eyes bore into hers as it licked the crumbs off of her fingers. Alastor's lip curled at the sight.

Dawn turned to him. "You wanna feed her?" 

His eye twitched. Alastor was never one for animals, if one could consider that thing an animal and not an eldritch abomination sent straight from his worst nightmares to assault his vision. He would much rather have licked the streets of Bourbon clean than take another step toward the thing.

Dawn laughed at his discomfort. "Alright, alright, let's make our way to the stadium. The show starts soon."

The second she stepped away from the creature, he snapped her hands clean, earning him another laugh. She took his arm and they started walking toward the main event.

On there path, a group of teenagers stood spitting on and kicking a small imp that was curled up on the ground. They laughed as the small child cried out.

Dawn stopped dead in her tracks and growled before storming up to the group. Alastor followed her, ensuring that she would't do anything reckless.

"What in Hell do y'all think you're doin'?" The group of teen imps froze at the sight of an overlord glaring down at them. Her hands rested on her hips, a motion that reminded Alastor of his mother when she was scolding him for bad behavior. Oh, that woman would have loved Dawn. 

None of them answered her, all still staring at her blankly. She tilted her head and curtly nodded to the side. "Well, go on. Git! You better find your mothers before I do!" 

The imps didn't need to be told twice before scurrying in all different directions, leaving the much younger imp crying silently on the ground. Dawn knelt down slowly. The child's horns were broken off and he held a Fizz toy close to his chest. "Hey, kid. Where's your mama?" Alastor stood beside her, watching them curiously. The child trembled, looking between the two of them with wide eyes.

Dawn reached out a hand in greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetie. I'm Dawn and this is Alastor," she nodded towards him.

The child looked between her hand and her eyes nervously, shaking his head frantically. Dawn pulled her hand away instantly. Instead, she tipped her hat to him. His chest heaved rapidly as he slowly made delicate movements with his hands. Dawn's eyes widened and her smile grew as she made similar gestures in response. 

They motioned back and forth a few times, the child calming down more and more with every second, even looking excited after a moment. Dawn giggled as she picked the child up and seated him in the crook of her elbow. Blue sand manifested from her free hand and a small circus scene played in front of the child, the famous clown, Fizzarolli, being the star of the show. "Let's go find your mama." 

Alastor dropped his head to the side in question. Dawn smiled at him. "He was lookin' for the clowns, his parents are at the show. I told him they could sit with us since we got the nice seats. That alright?"

Alastor shrugged. "This is your gift, chérie. If that's what you wish then who am I to deny you?"

She smiled brightly. The child pressed his fingers to his chin then motioned toward Alastor with his palm up.

Dawn and Alastor made their way to the stadium, a male and female imp stood near the entrance with worried expressions. When they saw the two overlords, one holding the child, their faces paled.

Dawn set the child down gently. He ran up to his mother, his hands moving wildly and full of excitement, emphasized with few points in Dawn's direction.

The mother gulped as she looked up at Dawn. "Thank you, ma'am but we got our own seats."

The child pouted but sadly waved goodbye to Dawn, who returned the gesture as the family hurriedly made their way into the stadium. Alastor turned to her. "I didn't know that you knew sign language, chérie."

She shrugged, a sad look in her eyes. "It never got brought up."

He had heard that you never stop learning new things about your spouse, no matter how long the relationship, but he got the feeling that Dawn was a peculiar case. He didn't believe that she was necessarily hiding parts of her from him, more so hiding those parts from herself and in turn he was left in the dark. She was Hell's most powerful overlord, she had only been in Hell for a month and demons already cowered at the sight of her but she was also one of the most selfless sinners he had ever met. She was not cruel towards the souls she owned, she was actually fairly protective of them, even friendly. When she talked about her human life, she was always giving. She knowingly damned her soul to Hell to protect others, a fact that she had never outright acknowledged, and he had no doubts that she learned to sign for someone else's benefit.

Dawn had convinced herself that she was just as cold and cruel as he was, that she deserved to burn in Hell. That couldn't have been further from the truth. Even without her soul or the full extent of her powers, she could have anything she wanted. But, here she was, enjoying the day with her husband whose soul she had dedicated to return to him, stopping to ensure that an imp demon was safe in the arms of his mother.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the stadium, quickly finding their seats. The show was extremely entertaining. Dawn and Alastor spent the entirety of it laughing and gasping as the imps attempted to ride Hell's version of a bull. Alastor made sure to burn her smile into his memory. He was not one for photographs but that day he began to understand the appeal; to physically capture the moment in time for later reflection did sound appealing but he would much rather have an eternity of those moments. There was no need for reflection when he knew that he would experience it for himself again and again. 

The show ended and Dawn yawned as she laid her head on Alastor's shoulder. "Are you ready to head home, chérie?"

She hummed and nodded her head in response. 

He breathed a laugh and surrounded them in shadow, manifesting in their bed. He snapped both of their outfits away before pulling her into his chest. He felt her smile widen on his skin. "Al?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I got one more present for you." 

She couldn't have possibly have gotten him anything else. He didn't want for anything else, today was perfect. She dragged her face over his chest to meet his eyes. "I know how Carmine killed the angel."

Chapter Text

It took Alastor longer than he would like to admit, but he'd finally tracked down the overlord whose name he never cared to learn. Granted, he had a lot on his mind. Not only could angels be killed but the answer was excruciatingly simple; their own weapons. The princess' consort had been carrying around the one thing that could kill her for who knows how long and had somehow never figured that one out.

Dawn insisted that it was still not time to share that information with the princess. Alastor agreed. Charlie had not exhausted every resource she had quite yet, not desperate enough for a last resort deal with an overlord.

The anxious beast that had nestled itself in Alastor's chest nipped and clawed at his senses. The practiced control he had mastered when it came to his patience was chipping away. Damn that woman for making him care so much...but he wouldn't have it any other way. He would simply have to adapt.

Baphomet was too busy with his work in Purgatory to notice that Dawn had survived as of a month ago, but that meant nothing now. For all they knew, he could have checked the figurative box he kept his and Dawn's souls in that morning to find that she was still alive. How long would he let her live before he grew suspicious? Surely, he couldn't believe that they actually found a way to remember. They were Lucifer's problem in Hell anyways.

The once aflame skull choked on red blood as he begged for the torture to end. "What was that, my good man? Didn't quite catch that!" Alastor's hand wrapped around the scrawny creature's neck. The demon's hands, or what was left of them anyways, weakly reached for him. "Ho-ho! Haven't learned to keep your hands to ourselves yet?" Alastor tsked. "Ah, what a shame." He released the overlord and he dropped to the ground pathetically, coughing up more blood onto Alastor's shoes. 

The demon's hands, with far less fingers on them than there were when the broadcast began, barely held the piles of organs slowly slipping from his abdomen. Alastor's mouth watered. His already impossibly wide grin crept higher as the stitching at the corners began to glow. Voodoo symbols surrounded him, runes chanting silently for him to bite, tear, eat, destroy. 

The overlord whimpered when green light filled the small broadcasting room, emanating from Alastor's too long fingers. The light solidified and focused on the demon, hooking through his skin all the way down to the bone, pulling his limbs away from his body. He hung there, tears spilling down his cheeks as the innards finally made their way outwards. Alastor waited until the last bit of meat fell unceremoniously to the grown before picking up one of the kidneys and taking a bite as casually as he would an apple. 

He let the silence drag on just a moment too long as he chewed his bite. With a snap, the green tendrils quartered the demon slowly. The skin tore first, then the fatty tissue, then the muscle. Alastor had to pin his ears back when the demon let out an agonizing and high pitched scream, but he did not take his eyes off of him as he ate his breakfast. He always enjoyed this part the most; doing to sinners what they thought impossible, watching them realize that the rumors about The Radio Demon ring true, he possessed the magic of permanent death, no angelic steel needed. He wondered now if an angel would fall at the hands of this arcane magic. He made a note to test that theory during the extermination taking place in about four months. 

The limbs were finally torn from the demon's torso and were swallowed by the green light that held them, it then descended upon the lump of demon that laid on the ground. The body disappeared with the rest of him as Alastor laughed manically to punctuate his show. The 'ON AIR' light dimmed along with the green death magic as he plopped down and stretched in his broadcasting chair. 

Alastor's ear twitched and swiveled when he heard a knock on the door. There was only one soul in all of Hell that would dare to visit him in his radio tower. He smiled softly as he walked across the room to open the door for his wife who grimaced at the sight of him, a coffee mug that read 'Oh Deer' in one hand and in the other, a mug reading 'Talk Birdy to Me'. "Jesus, Al. You're covered!"

"And good morning to you, darling," Alastor chirped as he grabbed his mug from her to take a long sip.

He stiffened and his eyes turned to radio dials, his microphone, that leaned casually at his broadcasting desk, let out a piercing shriek. She had put her blood into the coffee. With a few deep breaths, he collected himself while Dawn calmly watched his reaction. He narrowed his eyes at her.

Dawn shrugged casually as she took a sip from her own mug. "Had to see what you would do without any warnin'."

He groaned his annoyance. "You play a dangerous game, chérie."

She chuckled. "You don't think I could stop you before you shred me to pieces?" She feigned a pitiful pout. "Oh, bless your heart." 

Alastor rolled his eyes as he leaned forward to kiss her but she pressed a finger into his chest. "EH! Your breath smells like guts. You ain't gettin' nothin' from me until you shower and brush your teeth."

His smile turned impish as he took a step into her space. She turned to sand and disappeared, appearing again on the other side of the room. His head snapped around 180 degrees. She always cringed at the sight. He spun on his heel to face his body to her. "Does my wife not wish to kiss me? You wound me, darling," he said, his voice sickly sweet.

"I'm gonna wound you if you get blood on my clothes." 

Alastor sunk into shadow with the intention of manifesting behind her but the little witch was too quick.

She was already across the room again, sipping her coffee while seated on his broadcasting desk. "I will hose you down if you don't go shower."

Alastor smirked and snapped his fingers. The blood and guts were removed from the room as well as from his person. "Good as new! Now," he slunk into shadow and appeared directly in front of her, bent at the waist to meet her at eye level, "that kiss, darling."

Dawn jumped, spilling coffee on her silk pajama shirt. She groaned, "God dammit!" 

He chuckled and snapped again, removing the stain. "You will get used to the ease that comes along with magic soon, cheri. It took me years, though you do have bit of a head start."

"I still want you to go shower," she grumbled. 

He kissed her temple. "Anything for you, darling." He pulled them both through the shadows and into their bedroom. "Care to you join me?"

"Is Hell hot?"

He laughed and pulled her into their bathroom. They showered, only getting distracted a few times, before exiting to get ready for the day. She took her usual length of time which was, thankfully, much shorter than when she was still vaguely human in Purgatory. He had asked her weeks before why she didn't just snap her makeup and hair done. She enjoyed the process of it all, playing music while she sat and painted the simple yet intricate art onto her face. Alastor read while he waited on her. 

Dawn stepped out of their bathroom. "Ready for therapy, Radiohead?"

She'd convinced him that if they participated and at least pretended to believe in Charlie's cause, she would be much more open to a deal when the time came. His wife was, as always, agonizingly correct. He had gotten away with barely participating these past few weeks, something that vexed Dawn to no end but he could hardly stomach being around the group of sinners for more than a few minutes. There was no way in Hell that he would be sharing his feelings with anyone but his wife. Alastor kissed his teeth.

Dawn's hands rested on her hips. "Don't," she kissed her teeth back at him, "me. I could," she did it again, "you to double death."

Alastor hummed as he walked up to her, pulling her in for a kiss. "So serious, chérie."

She giggled into his lips as he deepened it. 

Her lips suddenly disappeared from his. When he opened his eyes, the last few particles of Dawn's sand dissipated into nothing. He sighed and made his way out of their room, as slowly as he could get away with, to meet the residents in the main seating area. 

Dawn had her legs draped over Angel Dust, laughing at a video he was showing her on his vPhone. Her and the spider demon had become close. She said that he reminded her of the addicts that used to come to Preston's church for support. She spent a lot of time with them, helping where she could, befriending them in an effort to help them feel less alone. Angel appreciated her lack of judgment on the subject as well as her ability to not overstep when it came to his struggle with sobriety.

Jordan, Husk, and Niffty sat on couch across from Dawn, Sir Pentious sitting patiently next to Angel, the princess and her girlfriend standing by the fireplace having a hushed conversation.

Alastor took his seat in the large wing-backed chair closest to the princess. Vaggie's attention snapped to him. "Alastor. Kind of you to join us...again." She narrowed her one eye suspiciously at him.

He mustered as much energy he could spare for these nincompoops and smiled brightly at her. "Why, I wouldn't miss it for the world! These sessions are important in the hotel's success. I did say I would help, did I not?"

Vaggie mumbled something in Spanish Alastor didn't care to dwell on what it may have translated to as Charlie clapped her hands in attention. "Alright, for today's therapy we are gonna talk about our family histories! Getting the past out of the way so we can focus on the future!" 

Alastor looked to Dawn out of the corner of his eye and smirked. The overlord that specialized in The Past rolled her eyes at him. 

Vaggie turned to Alastor. "Since you're so eager to help, Alastor, why don't you go first?"

"What would you like to know," he chirped.

"I don't know, you had parents didn't you?"

Alastor shrugged. "Well, I had to have been born somehow."

Angel let out a laugh. "Hard to imagine you as a kid, Smiles. I kinda just assumed you spawned into Hell one day."

"Bet the streets were clear of cats in your neighborhood growin' up," Dawn, oh so helpfully, added.

"Amongst other pest," Alastor smirked.

"Oookay. Moving on," Charlie sang, "Pen, what about you?"

"I was the youngest of sssix. My mother passsed giving birth to me. My father wasss a well-renowned inventor..." Sir Pentious continued his dull history for far too long. Alastor's eye began to twitch. "...and I believe that'sss everyone. All fifty eight of my family membersss."

Vaggie blinked her surprise. "Wow. That's a lot of cousins." She turned to Husk. "You're turn."

Husk groaned as he took a sip from the bottle of cheap booze Alastor had become convinced was glued to his hand. "I'm not sharing shit with these fucking chumps." 

"Oh, come on Husky, don't wanna talk about your mommy," Angel teased, "no ball and chain to look back on?"

"Never married," Husk mumbled.

Niffty raised an eager hand. "I was married!"

Jordan turned to her with his lip curled. "You had a husband? I thought you were like twelve."

The little bug giggled. "Mhm! Don't remember his name though. I think I was twenty when I died."

Everyone's brow, save for Alastor and Dawn's, furrowed. They already knew her history. Sad, really. She killed her husband in a blind rage before being taken to an asylum where they lobotomized her. Dawn pitied the demon but Alastor that it was what was best. She had no recollection of the horrid things that man did to her and was all the happier for it. 

"What about you, Dawn," Charlie quickly pivoted the conversation, "did you ever marry?"

She grinned. "I did actually." Alastor subtly shook his head in warning. The grin slipped into a mischievous smirk. "He died."

Charlie put a hand to her heart. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that."

Dawn chuckled. "Don't be. I'm glad." 

Alastor narrowed his eyes at his wife who was apparently just ecstatic that he had met his untimely end. 

"Is he- is he here," Charlie asked.

Dawn's eyes met Alastor's too quickly for anyone to notice. "In Hell? Yeah, he's here."

Angel turned to Alastor. "Looks like you got some competition, Smiles."

Alastor dropped his head to the side. "Pardon?"

The spider demon laughed. "You heard me. I see the looks you give her when you think no one's watching."

Husk huffed a laugh. "He's probably just thinking about what she would taste like."

"Oh, I bet that's exactly what he's thinkin' about," Angel purred. 

Dawn poked his rib. "You're nasty!"

Angel yelped in response before turning to her. "You calling me nasty, Feathers? Rich." Dawn's face paled as Angel turned back to Alastor. "You should hear what she says about you, Smiles. There was one she said last night that had me clutching my stomach." He rested his finger over his lip as if pondering something. "It was one of those weird southern sayings. Oh, what was it again?"

"You repeat what I said, I'll knock your teeth so far down your throat, you won't know if you're shittin' or spittin'," Dawn warned.

Angel smirked. "No not that one. It was dirtier than that." 

Alastor narrowed his eyes at Dawn who was blushing to a concerning color. It was incredibly difficult to not laugh at his wife reacting so flustered at the idea of him hearing some suggestive words. He had likely already heard them, but watching her was entirely too entertaining. 

Angel hummed, "somethin' about his shadow and a gravel driveway..."

Dawn wrapped sand around Angels mouth, effectively gagging him. She rolled her eyes when he moaned through his bindings.

Vaggie groaned. "Okay! This conversation got completely derailed. What about you Angel?"

Dawn dropped the gag while he smirked. "You wanna know what I have ta say about deer daddy?"

A screeching noise came from Alastor's microphone while Dawn snorted.

"No!" Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose. "Your family! Talk about your family!"

Angel sighed. "Was never close with my ma and pa. My nona raised me and my sister. Molly." Alastor noticed the shift in his tone when he said his sister's name, a longing look in his eyes. 

Dawn reached for one of the spider's four hands. "I got sisters too. Dusk and Day. Dusk popped out my nieces, Alice and Jean. And I'm sure she's workin' on a third one." She gave him a sad smile.

He chuckled weakly. "I'm surprised the kiddos aren't named Twilight and Night."

Her eyes widened as her body stilled. Alastor's microphone let out another loud screech while he desperately fought the urge to lunge for the spider. Angel looked down at Dawn's hand that was squeezing his too tightly. "Dawn?"

She took a deep breath and schooled her expression. "I need a minute," she answered calmly. She gave Angel a disingenuous smile as she stood to leave the room. 

Alastor stood. "Well, that was a lovely session, Princess. I'll be in my office should any of you need me."

"Wait Alastor! Not everyone-" Alastor didn't let Charlie finish as he melted into shadow, manifesting in his room.

Dawn walked through the door a moment later, letting out a deep sigh when it closed behind her. "Fuck," she whispered.

"I should broadcast his screams for that."

She walked over to Alastor, wrapping her arms around his waist. "He didn't know," she mumbled into his chest. 

He wrapped his arms around her, planting a delicate kiss on her hat. "I don't care."

Dawn hummed before looking up at him. "We should see what my sisters have been up to. I wanna see Alice and Jean."

"Are you sure it won't just upset you further?"

She shrugged. "Only one way to find out. You wanna watch?"

He did miss his sister-in-laws and his nieces. It felt strange to have gone a few months without seeing them after visiting so often. He wished that he could thank them for their help. Dawn was alive because of them. Of course, they were her sisters, there was no way that they would have just let her drop dead if they had any say in it. Alastor still felt eternally grateful for them. He took Dawn's hand and the vision began.

Dusk laid on the couch wearing sweatpants and a tank top that barely covered her slightly swollen belly, a hand lazily rocking Jean in the carrier next to her. Alice, the spitting image of her mother, sat on the ground in front of her, scribbling on a piece of paper. Day was having lunch at the table just outside the living room.

Alice's head popped up and she ran up to Day. "Dee! Dee! Dee!"

Day smiled as she turned to face her niece. "What? What? What?"

"Aunty Birdy and Uncle Teef!"

Day reached down to pull the toddler into her lap. "You wanna see what your aunt and uncle are up to?"  Alice nodded her head enthusiastically. Day chuckled. "Alright, let me make sure they're decent." Her eyes glazed over and when she blinked away the vision, her face blushed as her eye twitched. "Maybe later, honey." She bit her lip in an attempt to stifle her laughter. "They're visitin' Paris right now."

"DAY," Dusk scolded from the couch. 

Day laughed. "What? Them and Uncle Willoughby are enjoyin' the Eiffel Tower."

A pillow flew across the room, only missing Day by a few inches. "I will kick you out of this damn house!"

"One, it's an apartment. And two," Day turned to face a pouting Alice, "mommy would have no one to scream at while daddy's at work if she kicked me out, now would she?" Day pinched her niece's cheek, forcing a giggle from her mouth. 

"Aunty Birdy and Uncle Teef," Alice repeated.

"Aunt Dee just told you no, Alice. She'll show you later," Dusk yelled out.

Alice whined as Day put her back onto the ground. She stomped over to the paper she was drawing on and pointed to it angrily. "Look! Aunty Birdy and Uncle Teef!"

Dusk sat up from the couch to look at the crude drawing of Dawn and Alastor in their demon forms. "Wow! It looks just like them, Alice."

Alice shook her head. "Aunty Birdy and Uncle Teef! Look!"

Dusk's head snapped to Day, who returned the same surprised look. Dusk looked back to her daughter. "Do you think Aunty Birdy and Uncle Teeth are here?"

Alice nodded.

Dusk's eyes watered as she let out a laugh. "Honey, your magic." Alice looked at her confused. "Your aunt and uncle aren't here but you're right, they can see you. Like Aunty Dee can see them, except they're lookin' from the future. Like mama's visions."

Alice still didn't comprehend. "I don't think the toddler is gonna understand the intricacies of time, Dusk, I hardly do." Day yelled out. "How can she intuit somethin' that hasn't happened yet?"

Dusk tsked. "I already explained it best I can. Dawn showed you that movie years ago."

Day waved her off. " Well, if everything' is happenin' everywhere all at once, then there's some timeline where I have a man with a shadow like Al's. And I wanna go to Paris. Can you or Dawn show me that?"

Another pillow flew across the room, this time much more violently. Day grunted when it smacked her face. 

Alastor and Dawn blinked back into the present. He turned to her, tears welling up in her eyes threatening to spill. "She could sense us watchin'."

Alastor softly used his finger to bring her gaze to his. "It appears so. Why are you crying, chérie?" He had to admit, seeing the toddlers drawing of them did chip away some of the ice that surrounded his cold dead heart. Their niece didn't need to remember them, they still existed to her. Day had made sure that she knew that they were okay, as intrusive as that may feel. Alastor was not a fan of the thought of Day, of all people, 'checking in' on them any time she pleased.

The tears spilled down her cheek. "She can talk to me. Tell me about her day. I can still be a part of her life."

He sighed his relief. One more thing to keep Dawn happy in Hell. "Alice is lucky to have you, as is Jean."

Her lips quivered. "She called me Aunty Birdy."

Alastor chuckled. "And of all of my attributes, I was named Uncle Teeth."

Dawn gave him a knowing smirk. "I mean... have you seen those chompers?" 

Dawn giggled as Alastor clicked his teeth together.

"Dusk is ten times worse with this one than she was with the first two. I wouldn't be surprised if Day popped up in Hell in seven years."

Alastor hummed, "let us hope that she learns to keep her comments to herself for once."

"Ha! Unlikely."

Chapter Text

The angels descended upon Hell in only a little over two months and Alastor had made slow progress when it came to convincing The Princess that he was to be trusted with a deal. The war with the angels unfortunately looked to be the best opportunity in achieving that goal. Fighting valiantly for the hotel should cement him as a trusted confidant in Charlie's life. Both him and Dawn.

Angel's comments had only gotten more and more brazen. Dawn had suggested that they spend less time together in shared living spaces if they were to keep the ruse going. The game was losing its luster but it was far too late to turn back on it now. It helped their case in a way. Married overlords sharing a roof paid for by The Princess of Hell could elicit much more suspicion than they needed to deal with at the moment. One day he and Dawn could openly be together but today was not that day. 

"Trouble in paradise," Jordan asked with a shaking voice. 

Alastor set his drink down on the bar with only a bit too loud of a thunk before turning to the goat demon. "I beg your pardon?"

Jordan shrunk in on himself under Alastor's red hot glare. "I just mean," he cleared his voice, "I'm sorry. You and Dawn just don't talk much anymore."

Alastor kept his face neutral save for the smile that he had ensured stayed stitched in place. "I've not a clue what you are insinuating. Mrs.Dawn is my employee. Nothing more."

The goat gulped as he pointed a shaking finger at Alastor's left hand. "You guys wear the same wedding band."

Alastor flexed his hand, claws extending from his fingers. A shame this one had to die. Dawn liked him but she would understand. Perhaps he should talk to her first? Oh what had he become? Needing to run his ideas by his wife? If only his mother could see him now. 

Jordan trembled violently as he watched Alastor weigh his options, his life almost visibly flashing before his eyes. "I won't say anything. I swear! I just- I wanted to make sure you guys were okay."

"And why do you care about Dawn and I's relationship?"

Jordan took a deep breath. "Did Dawn ever tell you how she got my soul?"

Suddenly, Alastor's drink became the most interesting thing in the room. Turning back toward the bar, he took a sip of his rye. "I don't very much care, chum," he replied smoothly.

Jordan tapped his fingers on the bar nervously for a moment. "Dawn told me she'd tell me where my husband was if I gave her my soul." Oh lovely. He was going to tell him anyways. The demon was incredibly lucky that Dawn had taken a liking to him. "I hit a goat. I'd been drinking..." He sighed. "I've spent the last decade looking for him."

Where was Husk with his refill? Alastor's drink was nearly empty. He turned toward the lobby where the cat was lounging with his wife and her apparent best friend, Angel Dust. Honestly, how she could stand the effeminate fellow, he had no clue. Alastor had yet to hear a full conversation between him and anyone else that wasn't drenched in innuendos and crude language. 

"Apparently he's in Heaven." Jordan huffed a laugh. "Dirty trick on her part but she lets me look at him every once in a while."

Alastor was brought back to the conversation at that. Dawn had been very careful to not reveal her ability when it came to seeing visions since she arrived in Hell. She was never a fan of Preston exploiting them for his benefit in life and she was straying far away from being exploited in the same way here. Even if she were to be transparent about her abilities, it would not bode well for her. A sinner with the power to see any part of someone's past was not a power to take lightly. Overlords would likely come for her, neutralizing the threat that she very much posed. 

"What do you mean by that?" 

Jordan almost fell from his seat. "I promised her I wouldn't say anything to anyone. I just- you guys are married. I figured she already told you."

His wife and her bleeding heart. Of course she had let this unfortunate sinner know her secret. Dawn did not shy away from tricks, not in the slightest, but he had to admit, that was a dirtier trick than he had expected from her. Alastor was impressed, though he knew that she felt ashamed of it, especially given that she allowed the goat to look at his love in return. Dawn had shown Alastor his mother a few times, happy and safe in Heaven. It was much more than anyone could ask for and she chose to share it freely with Jordan. Now Alastor knew for certain whether or not he was allowed to kill this demon.

"Of course she has already told me. What is your point?"

"We died arguing. I just- You never know how much time you have with someone. Dawn's cool. I also literally owe her my soul so I just wanted to make sure everything was good, you know?"

Alastor relaxed his shoulders. Jordan posed no threat to Dawn. He would need to have a conversation with her about keeping her souls on a tighter leash however. A correct assumption was not something her souls should be relying on when it came to such delicate information.

"Everything is fine. Now leave me be."

Jordan didn't hesitate to follow Alastor's instructions. He was nearly across the room within seconds, going to join Dawn and her new friends on the couch. Alastor sighed. Maybe he could pull Dawn aside for a 'meeting'. The kitchen had been dreadfully lacking in the sinner's meat Vaggie had specifically barred from the hotel. Maybe Alice drew them another picture.

"Alright everyone listen up!" Speak of the devil. "Lucifer is coming to visit in an hour and we will be making an amazing impression. Vamanos," Vaggie ordered. 

Alastor would never be speaking of the devil again. His eyes met Dawn's immediately. The man whom owned half of each of their souls would be visiting the hotel run by the daughter that they were currently trying to trick into a deal.

Dawn's eyes were wide, her pupils shrunken in on themselves, and her already pale face had somehow drained of what little color it already had. Sand floated about where she disappeared from the couch. Alastor dissolved into shadow soon after her.

She was kneeling on the floor in front of her lock box, emptying the chamber of one of her revolvers and mumbling to herself. The sight was beyond unsettling. Alastor's skin crawled at every whispered syllable that fell from her mouth. "Dawn?" 

She didn't answer. The cheap bullets hit the floor and she clumsily replaced them with the angelic ones she kept for emergencies. Alastor knelt down next to her. "I don't believe attempting to assassinate The Devil will do us any good, chérie."

"These aren't for him," she mumbled so quietly, Alastor almost didn't catch it.

He used the knuckle of his finger to turn her head to him. "Who are those for, Dawn?" he asked seriously. 

Tears welled up in her eyes. Alastor's least favorite sight of her. She sighed. "I know my odds, Alastor."

Alastor's breathing stopped. Surely she didn't mean what he thought she meant. "Odds of what?"

"If you ever run into Zach again, don't you dare hurt him. Dusk put him up to it." She smacked the chamber of her gun into place. "The day we finally got introduced, his job was to distract you while Dusk passed me a note."

It really was no wonder Dusk's husband was so nervous to meet Alastor that day. He was given a task that most have not survived. "What did the note say?" he asked. His voice trembled against his will.

A single tear fell down her cheek. "I'm not survivin' this, Al."

No. No, that couldn't be the truth. The world disappeared around him. He had done so much to keep her alive, he couldn't lose her now. His ears rang and pinned back stiffly. Alastor couldn't imagine going on without her. His body became a distant memory as he lost control of his breathing. "What are the odds?"

Dawn swallowed hard. "Ten."

"Not one hundred?"

"Alastor-"

"A ten percent chance is still a chance." He could feel his own eyes watering but refused to let the tears fall. She shouldn't have to see him like that. Alastor decided that he needed to stay strong for the both of them. Even if she was only left with a one percent chance of survival then they would make that one percent happen. Alastor would have it no other way. 

Dawn's hand was cupped against his cheek. "I'm gonna tell Lucifer to call him."

"What?" Alastor was on his feet within seconds. "No! No, I won't allow it."

She stood to meet him. "I can get you your soul by the end of the day, Al. I can kill him. I know I can."

Alastor's teeth ground painfully, his fists clenched tightly and his claws dug into his palms. "At the cost of you, is that right? You told me yourself. If you kill him, you will die along side him."

"I made you a promise, Alastor. The golden ticket is gonna walk through the front door in an hour."

"And how do you know Lucifer will take the time to call the old goat? How do you know that he won't just kill you himself?"

"It's not his style. He wouldn't do that to Charlie."

"And you're certain he would send you to the gallows? If Lucifer finds out who we are, he will throw us out of the hotel. And then what, Dawn?" Alastor  was working overtime to keep his voice steady. He was failing. "We will lose our only chance at keeping you alive and all of this, these past seven years of work will all be for naught."

Her head hung heavy, tears dripping down her cheeks freely. "Since when are you one to not jump at the opportunity to get what you want," she grumbled.

Alastor's hands were gripping her shoulders before he could stop himself. He wanted to shake some sense into her but settled on holding her gaze. "I do not want you to martyr yourself for me! I want my soul, yes, but I also want to keep you alive. And I always get what I want. We are going to stick to our plan. When Lucifer arrives, you and I will be reminding Charlie who has been here supporting her and who has not. Lucifer's pride will be his downfall and when Charlie is comfortably seated on the throne, she will hand us both of our souls with a smile on her face. I don't care if I have to freeze Hell over myself, we will both be free. Do you understand?"

Dawn gave him a shaking sigh as she slowly nodded her head. Alastor let just a small bit of relief wash over him. "Why did you not say anything, darling?"

Her lower lip trembled as more tears fell. "I didn't wanna take away your hope. One of us needed it and I promised Dusk that I would try for the ten percent."

Alastor used his thumb to wipe the dreaded tears from her face. He missed the whiteness of her eyes, the clear image of her suffering gone. Now there was nothing but red. Red like her eyes were forever stuck in a state of despair. "Will Lucifer recognize us?"

"I don't think so. They rarely refer to us by our names and Lucifer would have to care enough to open his box of souls to see what's inside."

"What do they call us," Alastor asked playfully. 

A small smile teased at her lips. "You're The Loa's Bastard. I'm One of Chonos' Brats."

He pinched her cheek. "They flatter us too much, dear."

Dawn gave him a weak giggle but a giggle nonetheless. "I guess we'd better help out downstairs then."

*****

Dawn set up the buffet table with Jordan, she only kept him on staff seeing as there was hardly enough sinners in the hotel to keep an entire kitchen full of bored employees. Alastor used his shadow to lift Niffty up to reach the high places in the hotel. Sir Pentious and Angel Dust were helping Charlie and Vaggie hang poorly spelled banners and Husk sat at the bar pretending to busy himself with cleaning glasses.

Dawn hid her nerves well but not well enough for Alastor to miss the small tremble in her hands as she set plates down on the table or the slight ruffling of her feathers and absentminded whipping of her tail. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her to stay in their room while he handled Lucifer but he knew her better than to think that she would miss the opportunity to break down Lucifer's confidence a bit. She would never leave him to do it all on his own. 

A loud knock rang out in the lobby. Lucifer had arrived.

"Alright, places everyone," Charlie shouted, her voice slightly higher pitched than normal. She was almost as nervous as Dawn to see her own father. Dawn had said that their relationship was complicated but he wasn't given the details he may have needed to wedge that relationship a bit further. No matter, Alastor would be able to sniff out any weaknesses. He may be The Devil but he had more than enough faults to choose from.

Alastor joined Charlie at the door. Lucifer needed to see who was here for Charlie when he had failed to do so himself. Dawn stayed by the table covered in nothing but breakfast foods. It seemed The King shared her preference in breakfast for dinner. 

Charlie puffed her chest and swung open the door. "Charlie," The King shouted at his daughter before wrapping around her in a too tight hug. "Oh, it is so good to see you!"

Lucifer was shorter than even Dawn was as a human. His pale skin that he passed down to his daughter was decorated with bright red clown blush. Alastor towered over the fallen angel, even with his obnoxious white top hat adorned with snake and apple imagery sitting atop his blonde head. A glare took over Alastor's expression. A man so pathetic stood between him and his wife's freedom. 

Dawn cleared her throat quietly, reminding Alastor to stay calm. This matter needed to be handled delicately. One wrong move and their cover may be blown.

Charlie gave her father a timid chuckle. "Hey dad."

Lucifer finally released his daughter from his death grip to get a proper look at her. She smiled sheepishly at him before turning to Alastor. He gave her a soft smile and a small nod. A quick 'you can do this'.

She turned back toward her father. "Dad. Welcome to The Hazbin Hotel!" Angel and Sir Pentious popped confetti near the buffet table while Husk blew lazily into a party horn. Alastor added a trumpet fanfare from his microphone for effect.

Lucifer looked around nervously. "Oh... wow. This place is..." he struggled to find the words. Alastor watched as Charlies expression began to fall. Perfect. Lucifer cleared his throat. "It sure is something!"

Niffty came scurrying from whatever corner she was hiding in to climb up Lucifer's body and grab him by the collar, her feet placed firmly on his chest. "Ooooh! The ultimate bad boy!" She giggled. "Hi.... I clean." 

Lucifer stiffened, his eyes glancing to his daughter for support. She laughed nervously. "Oh that's just Niffty... heh. We're about eighty percent sure she's harmless." She plucked the bug demon from Lucifer's jacket and gently placed her on the ground to which she scurried off to find another unfortunate family of roaches that dared to impede on the property. "Let me introduce you to everyone else!"

Alastor chanced a glance toward his wife. Dawn stood far too still, her tail wrapping around her leg for comfort. His shadow headed for her, staying close to the ground to remain unseen, and curled up at her boots. She was broken from the trance she seemed to be in and gave the shadow a warm smile. Much better.

Of course, Charlie brought her father up to Dawn first. Alastor could almost hear her heart pounding from her chest. His shadow wrapped around her tighter. "This is our kitchen manager, Dawn!" 

Dawn forced a casual smile as she nodded at Lucifer. He stared at her for a moment... much too long of a moment. Alastor's shadow readied to get her out of the hotel if Lucifer were to recognize her. 

The Devil gave her an awkward smile as he tipped his hat. "Well howdy partner," he said with a pitiful attempt at a southern accent. Alastor let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Lucifer didn't know who she is.

Dawn guffawed. Her eyes wide as she laughed uncontrollably. Lucifer and Charlie laughed timidly with her. Alastor's shadow pinched the point of her boot in an attempt to bring her back to her sanity.

Dawn suddenly coughed as she tried to subdue her laughter. "Sorry. Real funny, sir." She cleared her throat. With an arm around Jordan she gestured to the table. "My head chef, Jordan and I made some food for you. Hope you like pancakes!"

Lucifer gasped. "I love pancakes! How did you know?"

Dawn's face lit up as she shrugged. "Sixth sense I guess."

Lucifer let out a laugh as he took another look around the room, his gaze landed on the bar that Alastor had so graciously added to the hotel decor. "Oh! What in the unholy Hell is that?"

Alastor dissolved into shadow to reappear in front of The Devil. "Just some of the renovations we had done! Adds a bit of color, don't you think," he said smugly. 

Lucifer looked Alastor up and down, his lip curled. "And you are?"

"Alastor!" He grabbed the apple at the end of Lucifer's cane in a parody of a handshake before wiping his hand on his jacket. "A pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure. It is nice to finally put a face to the name! You are much shorter in real life," he emphasized by pinching his fingers together.

Lucifer cocked a brow at him. "Alastor? Have we met before?"

Alastor's sensitive ears picked up the sound of Dawn unbuttoning the guard on her holster from across the room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand placed firmly over the gun on her hip. Would she really shoot at Lucifer if he recognized him? Of course she would, what wouldn't the woman do for him? "You've probably heard me from my radio show! I am quite popular." He did his best to shift the conversation in hopes that Lucifer would associate him with anything but Baphomet or his father.

Lucifer hummed, "nope! Guess that's why it's called the has been hotel." He shoved his elbow into his daughter's ribs lightly as he laughed.

"That was actually my idea," Alastor countered. He heard Dawn clear her throat again. 

"Well, it's not very clever!"

That's it. He would not be taking this from the man who owned his wife. He didn't recognize him or Dawn, he simply saw Alastor as a threat. Good. "HA HA!" He bent at the waist, his eyes meeting Lucifer's. "Fuck you."

Alastor took a moment to sneer at the man who unknowingly stole his soul, The Devil sneered right back. 

"Okay," Charlie interjected. "Dad. Why don't I show you around some more!" Lucifer gave Alastor another once over before being led away by his daughter. 

While everyone was distracted, watching Lucifer intently, Dawn met Alastor at the bar, her eyes narrowed. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed.

He sighed. "Apologies, chérie. I don't know what came over me."

She turned to watch Charlie show Lucifer around the hotel. "Well, since this is the route you've chosen, let's stick with it. Y'all can go pride for pride. I can pull Charlie aside and go daddy issues for daddy issues. You'd better rosin up your bow, Radiohead."

Alastor used his shadow to place a gentle hand on her shadow's lower back while he arched a brow at her. "My bow?"

A smirk snuck into her expression. "Don't worry about it. Just play that fiddle hard."

"I do wish you would stop making references I don't understand," he grumbled. "You have yet to explain Radiohead. Vox quite literally has a television for a head and you call him Dick."

Dawn snorted. "It's 'cause you're a weirdo, a creep."

That explained nothing. Alastor rolled his eyes playfully as he turned back towards Charlie and Lucifer. The Princess gestured towards him and Dawn. "...without Alastor, we wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much!"

Lucifer glared in Alastor's direction. He smiled brightly as he took his cue. "Charlie has such a unique vision," he began to walk toward her. "I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests," he punctuated with a delicate hand on Charlie's shoulder. 

Her eyes glistened as she gave him a genuine smile while placing her own hand over his. "Oh. Thank you, Alastor."

Alastor smirked when he saw Lucifer growling at his hand on his daughter. Time to hammer it home. "Quite the impressive young lady. We are all very proud of her," he said, his voice sickly sweet.

"Charlie," Lucifer shouted, "why don't you introduce me to your other friends." He grabbed Charlie by the shoulders and pushed her back towards the buffet table where the rest of the hotel residents made their own introductions, Dawn joined them, pointing out all the dishes her and Jordan had prepared for His Majesty.

Just as everyone finished making their individual remarks to Lucifer a chandelier fell from the ceiling, landing between Alastor and everyone standing across the room. Well, that was a huge oversight.

Lucifer laughed. "Alright then." He turned towards his daughter. "Looks like you can use some help from the big boss of Hell himself."

She chuckled nervously while Lucifer spouted off all of the things he could do for her. Everything except offer her any actual support. Dawn turned toward Alastor and gave a subtle nod. He needed to remind Charlie that he was actually giving the girl everything she would want from a father; moral support. He shadowed next to Charlie and threw an arm over her shoulder. "And who has been here since day one, Charlie? Faithful as a nun?" 

Charlie's expression changed from the uncomfortable smile she was putting on for her father to a more genuine one. Alastor chuckled. "I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond. You're like the daughter that I wish that I'd had."

"What," Lucifer growled. 

Alastor smirked at him while the rest of the hotel residents gave them a wide berth. "I'm only reminding Charlie of all of the things I can do for her. The things I have done for her." He turned to the princess. "Do you remember when I fixed that clog today?" 

"Oh yeah! That was so sweet of you Alastor!" Charlie turned back toward her father. "Alastor really has been one of my biggest supporters through this. He's like family now! He even participates in the group therapy lessons."

Dawn smirked at him. The clever little witch, her chest swelling with the pride she had earned from forcing him to participate in those awful therapy sessions.

"Yes, well, they do say the family you choose is better."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed at him. "Better?"

Dawn ran up to pull Charlie away from the scene, letting Lucifer and Alastor battle it out without The Princess in the way. "Better indeed. Charlie has proven herself to be an impressive leader thus far. The leaps and bounds these sinners have been making on the path to redemption has been an amazing spectacle. She's a natural."

"I don't know what game you're playing at, Bambi, but whatever it is, I suggest that you end it now. I know what you are."

Alastor's eye twitched. "And that would be?" 

"An overlord. A sinner that wants friends in high places. My daughter isn't going to give you her soul if that's what you're after. She's smarter than that."

Alastor smiled, his sharpened teeth on full display. "I agree with you, Your Majesty. You have spawned a very intelligent and caring young woman. I am only here to help."

"What do you want from her?"

Alastor brought a hand to his chest in mock sincerity. "I believe I've already told you that. I am here to support her. Do you think so little of your daughter that you would question her decision to let me stay here? This project is all about redemption, isn't it? How do you know that I am not seeking her support in my own redemption?"

Lucifer's expressions softened. Alastor knew that it was not for him that Lucifer felt guilt, but his daughter who he clearly didn't support.

With a huff, Lucifer spun on his heel to face Charlie, who was having what looked to be a very heartfelt conversation with Dawn. "Why don't you take me on a tour? I would love to see more of this hotel you've been working on."

Charlie beamed at him. "Of course! Why don't Vaggie and I take you upstairs. We renovated all the rooms recently... Well Alastor and Dawn did most of it but it looks so nice now!"

Lucifer's eye twitched at Alastor's name being mentioned. "I can't wait to see it, Charchar."

The front doors swung open, everyone's heads swiveling around see who had arrived, revealing a small demon with black eyes standing theatrically with arms wide open. "ALASTUH!"

Alastor's smile widened. "Mimzy!" His longest friend. She was always his number one fan back on Earth, supporting him on his rise to popularity as Al Hartfelt, the beloved radio host.

The short flapper demon ran up to him and gave him a tight hug. As he hugged her back, he looked towards Dawn. After seeing how she reacted to Vox, he was not entirely sure that she would like Mimzy. She did always let Day get away with her flirtatious remarks towards him, but that was her sister, Mimzy was a stranger to her. Dawn blinked away the vision she apparently was just having and smirked. Well now he had to know what she saw.

"It is so good to see you, doll-face! How you been? Good? Good!" Mimzy and Alastor released each other. "Listen, I was in the neighborhood. I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory, and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake."

Mimzy couldn't have picked a better time to stop by. Charlie would love to see that he did in fact have friends that he cared for. "Of course, sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here!"

Charlie ran up excitedly at the prospect of another sinner joining the hotel. Alastor knew Mimzy better than that, she likely brought upon some trouble for herself and had come to him for help. She did have a habit of it.

The Princess shook her hand. "Oh, how nice! So you two know each other?"

Mimzy laughed. "Oh, yeah, we go way back, ran in the same circles when we were alive. You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor then keep up with me on the dance floor."

Alastor smiled at that. What good old times they had. "Oh, quite a talent, this gal. You should have seen her in her hayday!"

Mimzy poked Alastor in the rib. "Hey, watch it tall, dark and creepy. I'm still in my prime!" She turned back to Charlie, her mouth went slack when she saw Lucifer standing impatiently while he waited for his daughter to come back to him. Mimzy gasped. "Is that Lucifer?" She pushed the residents that all stand staring at her as she made her way to shamelessly flirt with him. 

Angel walked up to Dawn, whispering something in her ear to which she clutched her stomach laughing. Everyone, Angel included, looked at her confused. Once she noticed everyone staring, she coughed into her hand. "Sorry. Just thought of somethin' funny."

Alastor tried to make eye contact with her in question, which she dutifully ignored. He huffed and walked up to where Mimzy and Lucifer stood awkwardly. "As much as I'd love to catch up, Charlie and I have a tour to continue."

Lucifer grabbed his daughter by the arm while glaring at Alastor. "I'm sure Charlie can handle showing me around on her own."

Charlie laughed nervously. "Why don't all of us go? Dawn do you want to join us? You've been just as helpful as Alastor!"

"I'd be honored to, Charlie."

Charlie turned to her partner. "Vaggie?"

Vaggie blushed and gave her a quiet chuckle. "Of course, babe."

Charlie smiled brightly and turned to lead the small group on their tour of the hotel. Alastor turned to Mimzy. "Why don't you let the others help you settle in, and I'll be back before you know it."

She smiled and turned to head toward the bar, manned by an incredibly irritated Husk. 

The Princess spent the tour excitedly pointing out every room, every hallway, even every photo hanging from the wall, many having Lucifer featured in them. Alastor and Dawn followed a few paces behind. "What did you find so funny, chérie," he whispered.

Dawn suppressed a snort. "Angel asked me if I was gonna rip her head off."

"Are you?"

She looked up at him, her brows knitted. "Why would I? She thinks you're gay."

Alastor's eyes widened. "She does not."

"Does too. 'How else could he not want someone so adorable' she says."

Alastor rolled his eyes. Mimzy was one of his few close friends, but that woman's ego almost put his own to shame. Almost.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. Both him and Dawn turned to see Husk standing at the end of the hallway. "Hey, boss. Can I have a word?"

Dawn gave him a small nod before continuing on her tour for The Devil. Alastor glared at Husk. "What is it," he asked shortly. He better have had an incredible reason for interrupting him during his showing off of the hotel. 

Husk glared back. "You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'. That bitch is trouble, and who knows what kind of demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?"

"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't you worry your fuzzy little head about it, Husker. Who in their right mind would cross me?

Husk sneered. "You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet."

Alastor walked up to Husk, bending at the waste to meet his gaze. "But you are," he growled. He may have been gone a while but Husk should have known better than anyone that he was not a threat to be taken likely. "Back to your work, Husker. I don't care to entertain this further." Alastor almost cringed at the reminder of how Baphomet used to speak to him. The difference being that Husk lost his soul to Alastor, where Baphomet had stolen his. 

He turned to catch up with the tour, this conversation was one that could wait. He was sure that Husk was right, the woman usually only showed up when she put herself in some completely avoidable, dire situation, but none of that was any of Husk's business. 

"Big talk for someone who's also on a leash," Husk mumbled.

Alastor's entire body stiffened, his eyes shifting to radio dials. "What did you just say?"

Before Husk could run, there was a chain around his neck, pulling him onto his stomach. "Fuck! Nothing. I-" He grunted when Alastor tugged on his chain harder. 

Alastor slowly walked up to Husk, his knuckles almost turning white due to how tight he gripped Husk's chain. How could he have possibly known that Alastor didn't own his soul? Claws wrapped around the cat's throat. "What do you mean by that, Husker?"

Husk's breathing picked up, his fur drenched in sweat. "I'm sorry. I-" The hand around his throat gripped harder. "It's- it's my power- I read people," he answered through panting breaths. Alastor continued sneering at him while he waited for him to elaborate. "I didn't think it was literal but I read that you were soulless." He grunted when Alastor's grip did not let up. "But then I met Dawn. She- she got the same reading."

Husk knew. He knew that him and Dawn didn't own their souls. Alastor couldn't kill the sourpuss now, not in the hotel. Later. He would deal with him later. "You will not repeat this to anyone or anything," he ordered with full intention, sending that order down Husk's chain, "you will not write this anywhere, you will not even mention this in the privacy of your own bedroom. This information dies with you. If you dare to share this information with anyone else in any way, I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me. Understood?"

"Understood," Husk answered, his entire body shaking.

Alastor smirked. "Lovely." The chain disappeared as he stepped back into his faux cheery disposition. "Good talk, my good man! Always nice to catch up."

He left the cat there to tremble as he disappeared into shadow, appearing next to Dawn. She jumped at his sudden appearance. "Jesus, stop doin' that, Al."

Alastor placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mrs. Dawn, may I have a word?"

She looked to the hand confused, then turned to the group who barely glanced in their direction. "Sure thing, sir." They both dissolved into shadow, manifesting onto one of the hotel balconies. "Is everythin' alright, hun?"

"No. No everything is not alright. Husk knows that we do not own our souls."

Dawn's eyes widened as her breath hitched. "Shit. How?"

"He's the Poker Demon. His power is reading people."

She surveyed him. "He's still alive right?"

His head dropped to the side in disbelief. She was concerned for the demon that could destroy everything that they had been working towards? "He is, but I was not planning on keeping it that way, cheri."

"Is he gonna tell anyone?"

"Of course not. I have ordered that he stay silent on the subject."

She cupped her hand over his cheek. "Then we're good, hun. It's better that he told you before he could blab to someone else, right? We're fine."

Without thought, he leaned into her comforting touch. "What if there is another demon who possesses magic like that? I doubt they would say anything to us before spreading gossip of our missing souls. Lucifer could all too easily figure out who we are if that were to happen."

She chuckled. "Why would Lucifer assume that he's the one that owns our souls? You worry too much, Radiohead."

With a sigh, he picked her up and placed her gently on the ledge of the balcony, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his forehead to hers. "I don't think you worry enough, chérie."

Dawn leaned in to kiss his nose. He missed when she was tall enough to do that on her own. "Honey, we've got his handled. No one would dare to mess with us and if for some odd reason they tried, they would learn real quick that we are not to be underestimated."

Alastor let a small smile form. He hoped that she was right. He could not stand even the idea of losing her. Just as he leaned in to kiss her, the ground shook below them. He gripped her waist quickly to pull her off of the edge of the balcony. 

"Mimzy! We know you're in there you lousy bitch!"

Once Alastor had ensured that Dawn was not in any danger of falling three flights down, he looked over the edge to see who was causing the ruckus. There were about ten loan sharks attempting to break into the hotel by ramming the doors open. "Well this is perfect. It is a good thing you loaded angelic bullets, it seems."

She scoffed as her arms crossed. "I'm not killin' anyone permanently, Al."

He smirked. "Oh, don't be a spoilsport."

Dawn had never shown him a vision of her killing anyone.  She always viewed it as a necessary evil, a job, but Alastor had been dying to see her in action, to see her have fun with it for once. The men she killed, they deserved it. Alastor killed similar men in life, targeting the worst of the worst and reveled in it. She deserved to feel the same. "Why don't you have a quick look. I'm almost certain that at least one of them deserves eternal solitude."

Dawn sighed as she walked closer to the railing. Alastor was sure to keep his hands hovering over her hips just in case the ground were to shake again. After a few moments of her eyes focusing in and out, he heard joints snapping. Her wings nearly doubled in size as more feathers sprung from her body randomly. When she turned to him, her eyes were pitch black, a blue hourglass replacing her pupils and spinning rhythmically. The horns of a ram grew out from under her hat, curling around her face. He watched her in awe. This was the first time that her inner demon had ever shown itself and, by god, it was just as beautiful as it was terrifying.

"Hammerhead's mine," she huffed before storming past Alastor. 

Alastor shivered as he followed behind. The group touring had already made their way to the lobby, Vaggie brandishing her spear. He heard Niffty giggle as debris fell from the ceiling. "We're all gonna die! HAHAHAHA!"

"All of you, get a safe distance," Vaggie shouted, "I'll take care of this."

With a delicate hand on her spear, Alastor lowered her weapon. "No, my dear, leave it to Dawn and I. It's time I remind everyone why I am here."

Dawn was already storming towards the front door as Alastor contorted his body, growing much too large for the hotel to hold his giant form. He heard Mimzy shout her praises as he crawled through the front door, the loan sharks screamed at the sight of him.

A blue lasso whipped next to him, wrapping around the hammerhead's neck. He screamed as he was roughly pulled to the ground, Dawn jumping immediately into action. Alastor hadn't failed to notice her refusal to use her wings but he knew better than to ask her about it, though now would have been a wonderful time to use them to her advantage. The hammerhead struggled against his restraints, pulling her down slightly.

Once Dawn got close enough to her victim, a boot was brought down onto his neck. Alastor saw that she had that handled and began his own work, swallowing the demons whole and sending his shadows to stab through them. He did love a good kabob. It didn't take long for him to finish off the shark demons but he remained in his full demon form to watch Dawn at work.

The hammerhead was flung through the air, only to be slammed into the pavement, his face nearly becoming complete mush upon impact. Smoke rose from his wife's body as she pulled at the lasso around the demon's neck, swinging him through the air and slamming him into hard ground again. The hammerhead shook uncontrollably as she stalked toward him. Her gun was drawn and aimed for his barely intact head. She spit something at him. Alastor didn't hear what she said but it was quickly followed by the sound of a gunshot. Even from a distance, Alastor's ears pinned back reflexively at the noise. 

Dawn breathed heavily as she contorted back to her normal form. Alastor followed suit, already heading towards her to ensure that she was alright. He realized quickly that asking her to look into these demon's pasts was a mistake. Whatever she saw, it had clearly upset her.

He was stopped midway through his journey by Mimzy. "Oh, Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo! As always. Thanks for helpin' lil' old me out of a tough spot, you're always such a pal!"

Alastor's fists clenched slightly at the intrusion but didn't let Mimzy see his anger. They both turned to look toward the hotel when the sound of debris falling rang through the air. Mimzy giggled sheepishly. "Oops. Heheheh... sorry about the mess, but I'm sure the lil' bug can take care of it for ya."

When Alastor turned back to face her, he saw that Dawn had disappeared from where she stood. Worry ate away at him. She was upset and he was the reason for that upset. He glared down at the woman that had brought these people to the hotel. His friend who only used him to bail her out of the situations that she brought down upon herself. "I think you should go, Mimzy. Now."

Mimzy giggled. "Oh pff, Alastor, you're such a kidder, you! Haha, you are so funny!"

His expression hardened. "I mean it. You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess. I can't have that here."

"But you love takin' care of me! What? You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? Come on. I know you." She pressed her finger into his chest as he narrowed his eyes at her. "You heartless son of a bitch," she said playfully.

He grabbed her finger like a piece of discarded trash. He was not heartless. His heart simply belonged to someone else. Someone who needed to be comforted at the moment. "You are welcome if you actually want to give redemption a shot, but I think we both know that's not really your style, so you need to leave."

She scoffed at him. "Well, fine! Who needs you? Have fun with your little princess and your little hotel. See if I care." She threw him the finger as she stormed off. Alastor wasted no time, traveling through the shadows to find Dawn. She was, surprisingly, standing casually in the lobby. 

Dawn smiled at him. She was upset only a moment before. What changed? As Alastor got closer to her, he saw directly through her. She was masking her pain again. "Dawn," he whispered, "I apologize for asking that of you. I should have known."

She didn't drop her smile. "I'm fine, Al. Just been a while, you know?" She glanced towards Lucifer and Charlie, who looked to be deep in conversation. "I've got good news."

Alastor arched a brow. "Oh?"

"He's settin' up a meetin' for her. With Heaven."

He glanced back toward the conversation between Lucifer and his daughter. "He's trusting her abilities more. That's splendid news, chérie!"

Dawn smirked. "The Devil bowed his head 'cause he knew that he'd been beat. And he laid that golden fiddle on the ground at the Broussard's feet. The Broussards said 'Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again. We done told you once, you son of a bitch, we're the best there's ever been."

Alastor placed the back of his hand to Dawn's forehead. "Are you alright, darling? You're speaking nonsense."

She giggled. "I got a song to show you later."

Lucifer disappeared into a golden flurry of magic and Charlie excitedly ran up to Vaggie, hugging her far too tight.

Vaggie chuckled. "This next part is going to be scary. You ready?"

Charlie pulled from their hug to grip Vaggie's shoulders. "I'm ready because you'll be with me."

Even with Vaggie's back to Alastor, he could see her posture fall. "In spirit, right?"

"In Heaven!"

Vaggie winced. "Yay."

Dawn turned to Alastor with wide, excited eyes. Vaggie was about to be exposed to Charlie in the worst way possible, he was sure of it. Everything was falling together so beautifully. A deal with The Princess was sure to be struck, Dawn and Alastor being the only people left that she could trust. She would need them and their support, desperately, and they would gladly offer it.

Chapter Text

Only one more month until the extermination and Charlie was about to exhaust her final resource. Lucifer wouldn't be able to help her any more than the doomed meeting and Vaggie would most likely be recognized by the angels. According to Dawn, Vaggie was one of Adam's top girls, his most brutal soldier. There was little doubt that he would be the one to expose her secret to Charlie. 

Dawn hummed into his chest as she slowly woke up. "Mornin' Radiohead," she mumbled.

"Good morning, chérie."

She smiled sleepily. "You ready to play cheerleader today?"

He chuckled. "I believe you are much better equipped for that role." Dawn had told him years ago that she was on the varsity cheerleading squad in high school, Dusk being the head cheerleader of course. When he asked what Day's role was in this little squad, she laughed. 'Day was more likely to join the football team than the cheerleadin' squad'.

"Not accordin' to Dusk," Dawn grumbled. "She replaced me as flier with Hailey," she finished with a mocking tone. "You know the quarterback cheated on me with her too. She just had to have everythin' I had. Dyed her hair red and everythin'."

"Should we all be concerned for Hailey's safety on the day that she makes her unfortunate fall into Hell," he teased.

She snorted. "Depends. Should we be concerned for Ethan's?"

"The quarterback?" 

Dawn bit her lip and nodded.

A hand cupped to her cheek, Alastor brought her lips close to his. "Of course." 

She giggled into his lips as they met. "We can't get distracted now, gotta go cheer on The Princess."

With a glance to the clock on their nightstand, he smirked at her. "I believe we have a little time."

Dawn squealed when he pulled her on top of him. She straddled him as he pulled her head down for a kiss. He was eternally grateful for the fact that he had finally convinced Dawn to sleep naked these past few months. The argument that was her wings making her much more difficult to de-robe worked wonders. Ha!

His hands gripped the softness of her exposed hips tight, as if she would simply float away if he were to let go. Just as his hands started gliding up her waist, she disappeared.

Alastor blinked, confused, before turning towards the sound of Dawn's giggling from across the room, her silhouette glowing in front of the dim light of their bayou.

He narrowed his eyes at her as he propped himself up on his elbows. "That's not very kind of you, darling."

"Don't you blame that on me. You did that to yourself. Now you gotta fix it yourself." 

His shadows consumed him and he was across the room, towering over her. He glided his finger over the bone of her wing and she shuddered under his soft touch.

"But I much prefer when you fix it," he purred.

Blush painting her cheeks, she kissed the tip of her finger before placing it gently on his cheek. "Later hun, I gotta make sure the special brunch is perfect. Gotta remind Charlie that we're damn good at our jobs and that she needs us." 

Alastor sighed as she walked past him, yelping when her tail whipped his behind.

Dawn laughed, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she made her way into their bathroom and locked the door behind her.

The sound of the lock pulled a groan from Alastor's chest as he threw himself back into bed. Dawn was feeling impish today. Lovely.

For someone who seemed to be in such a rush to get to work, Dawn took an awfully long time to get ready. She didn't exit the bathroom for two hours, spending most of that time singing her heart out in the shower. When she finally emerged, she was, of course, looking no different than she usually did.

"Time for work, Radiohead!"

Alastor's ears drooped to the side, exaggerating his annoyance as he pretended to continue reading the book he'd been trying and failing to focus on. "You know I don't like when you get into one of these moods."

She dissolved into sand and appeared on his lap, book discarded over her shoulder. "I know you don't like it," she bit her lip, "you love it."

Her hand gripped the back of his neck, bringing him in for a breathtaking kiss. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her body closer to his. The warmth of her made his skin hum like a tuning fork. Vibrating excitement shot through his body as he took his time to appreciate his wife. 

Suddenly, Dawn was no longer in his arms, his skin felt so cold without her pressed against him. When he opened his eyes, she was sitting on the edge of their bed.

"We're gonna have all day with nothin' to do while they're away. Patience, Radiohead." Dawn disappeared again, this time not reappearing in the room.

Today was going to be either incredibly long and torturous or complete bliss. Alastor prayed to, well anyone who cared to listen he supposed, that today would be the latter. But as Dawn had just announced, now it was time for work.

Alastor found Niffty chasing a roach a few floors down, the little bug laughing maniacally as she repeatedly brought the large needle point in her tiny hands down into the carpet. The roach was quick, but he knew that Niffty was quicker.

Only a few more stabs and a loud crunch later, the roach was skewered. "Hehehehe, I got you Romeo!"

"Niffty dear!"

Her head snapped toward him, her body not quite following along. "Alastor!"

He raised a stern brow. "Are you forgetting your very important job for today?"

The little bug perked up, her body finally catching up with her head. "No, sir! I already did it! Where's Dawn? She promised to help me decorate for my puppet show tonight! She said she knew the perfect flowers for the balcony scene!"

Alastor chuckled. Now he knew why Dawn came home with a bouquet of roses the evening prior. "Charlie's room is spick and span? Not a speck of dust in sight? And you were sure to stuff her pillows with extra feathers?"

Niffty nodded enthusiastically. "Feathers going flying once she lays down! Do you need me to clean you and Dawn's room next?"

He paused, taken aback. "You are more than welcome to clean my room but you need to ask Mrs. Dawn if you may clean hers."

Her head dropped to the side, confusion filling her expression. "Her room is always clean. Bed made and everything! Your room is the one that gets messy! Dawn's feathers flying around all over the place." Her expression brightened. "Is that why you made me stuff the pillows? You like the feathers in your room so you want feathers in Charlie's?"

Well that wasn't exactly the idea but yes. When Charlie laid her head down after she returned from Heaven, feathers would explode from the pillow, a little joke, as well as a reminder of her lover's betrayal.

"How long have you known that Dawn and I share a room?"

She shrugged. "The first time I cleaned your room. It smelled like her. I like the way she smells. She smells like roses, the black ones that Rosie likes!"

That she did. "And have you mentioned this little discovery to anyone?"

Her head bopped up and down. "Dawn told me it was a secret!" Niffty gasped as her hand met her mouth. "I just told you the secret! Please don't tell Dawn! I don't want her to stop helping with the puppets!"

Dawn would have had to be dragged away by God himself, clawing and kicking, to be stopped from helping Niffty with her puppet shows. "I will keep this little secret between us so long as you keep the secret as well, missy!"

Niffty giggled as she nodded before spotting another roach running somewhere down the hallway behind Alastor. "Tybalt, get back here!" She scurried off in a blur, the roach not standing a single chance. 

First Jordan, now Niffty, and with Husk's talent in 'reading', they were bound to be exposed soon. Alastor was both relived and anxious at the idea of everyone knowing that him and Dawn were in fact a couple. Not only a couple, but husband and wife. It was necessary. Dawn needed to introduce herself as an individual, both to the hotel and The Pride Ring. They would understand. It was for her safety as far as everyone else would be concerned.

Husk was sleeping on the bar top when Alastor made his way down to the lobby. "Husker, my good man!"

The old cat jolted upright before falling from the stool he was sitting on. Alastor snapped the drool from the surface while Husk rubbed his head as he stood up from the ground.

"Shit, boss. What the hell was that for?"

"What are you doing slacking off?"

Husk groaned as he turned to grab a bottle of champaign from the fridge behind the bar. "Since when do we serve mimosas?"

Ever since Dawn suggested it. "A proper sendoff is in order! Charlie and Vaggie have a very important day in front of them."

"I have a bad feeling about the meeting, boss. I don't think Vaggie should be going..."

Alastor blinked for a moment. "What do you mean by that?" he asked carefully.

Husk shrunk into himself. "I just, uh, I don't know. She's hiding somethin' from Charlie... something big. She's fuckin' terrified, sir."

A bad feeling from Husk could only mean good things for Alastor and Dawn. "Oh, don't you worry your drunken head about that, Husker! I'm sure that everything will be fine! Whatever happens to The Princess' consort is none of our concern. Our focus is ensuring that The Princess has the confidence she needs for today. Now, hop to it! I'm sure Mrs. Dawn and Jordan are already almost finished preparing brunch." He grinned wide. Today would be perfect.

He met Dawn at the large communal table in the dining room where she was setting down plates full of the sugary treats Charlie considered food. She didn't look at him but she snapped and his coffee mug appeared in his hand. She was completely focused on the task at hand, Jordan scurrying around doing the same.

"Dawn. May I have a word?"

She hummed in response, not stepping away from her careful arrangement of donuts on the glittering, rainbow painted three tiered cake tower.

With a sideways glance in his direction, Jordan was nearly sprinting from the room. "Why did you not tell me that Niffty knew about us?"

"Oh, by the way, Niffty knows that I stay in your room," she finally spun to face him, "sorry 'bout that, hun... it slipped my mind. She promised she wouldn't say anythin' and as far as I could tell, she's kept her promise."

Alastor sighed. Dawn was being careless. "What's been eating away at you, chérie?"

"I just-" her posture loosened, shoulders slumped forward, "-Dusk isn't givin' me anythin'. I check on her all the damn time and she tells me nothin'. I hate not knowin' what to do next, what the outcome'll be. I don't know how people just live like this."

Alastor set his mug down, cupping his hand to her cheek. "You're nervous about The Extermination."

"I need to know what I'm supposed to do." She bit at her cheek. "I'm tired of bein' anxious about it. Why won't she just tell me what'll happen?"

Alastor hadn't even thought about that. Dawn and her sisters had been relying on each other's visions since they were eight years old. She went almost her entire life knowing what has happened, what was happening, and what will happen. Anticipation was something she rarely had to deal with, even in Purgatory, but these past five months in Hell, she was well and truly lost. 

"If there was something that we should be worried about, I'm sure she would have said something, darling. I doubt that she would send you in blind if something were to go wrong."

Dawn buried her head into his chest. "Both of us know better than that."

He gently smoothed the back of her hair in an effort to soothe her. Alastor had once envied that she had such an obvious power in life while he had no clue of his own. That green eyed monster choked and died in his mind when he heard her racing heart as he tried to calm her. He couldn't imagine relying so heavily on magic his entire life, only to have it ripped away and be left to his own devices when he needed it most. He now appreciated that he learned how to get by just fine without it.

Why Dusk was refusing to say anything to Dawn, he had no idea. Alice could sense when Dawn was peering up at them, she knew that her sister was searching for answers but left her in the dark. The Miller sisters had a capacity for cruelty for those deserving, but never each other. Her sisters had to have known how frightened she was. They all knew how their mother died and yet, they said nothing to her. Now the worry was eating away at him. Dusk was hiding something. Why else would she stay silent?

The sound of footsteps broke their embrace apart, the rest of the residents walking into the dining room. 

Charlie squealed. "Dawn! You shouldn't have!"

Dawn put on her misleading smile as she excitedly ran up to Charlie, pulling her in for a hug. "I'm just real proud of you, sugar! Today's a big deal, gotta send you off right!"

Vaggie's face was pale, her jaw feathering and her eye had a far away look to it. Husk must have not even needed to use his magic to know that Vaggie was scared out of her mind. Anyone with eyes could see the dread oozing from her. 

Angel's eyes widened when he turned his attention to the spread of food. "Is that fuckin' biscotti?"

Dawn pulled away from Charlie to gesture to the table. "Yup! I think I got everyone's favorites! Hope y'all enjoy!"

Brunch went by smoothly, plenty of compliments to Dawn and Jordan for the perfect meals they had prepared. Dawn even managed to sneak some of Rosie's pastries into the hotel for Alastor to enjoy. Spirits were high in The Hazbin Hotel, save for the still brooding Vaggie who had hardly touched the angel biscuits that Dawn had made for her. 

Niffty cleaned everything up after they all finished while Charlie and Vaggie headed to the lobby to say their goodbyes. 

"Y'all are gonna do great. Those cards are sure to work!"

"Are you sure? It feels a little cliche..."

"Nah, they can't question definitions. It'll be fine!"

Charlie's confidence was skyrocketing the more that Dawn praised her, Alastor sprinkling in a few supportive words of his own. It was only a few minutes until the portal to Heaven would open up and Charlie's eyes were practically sparkling with excitement. 

A loud boom rang out in the lobby. Alastor was quick to throw a shield around him and Dawn, the debris bouncing off of the black bubble covered in runes. 

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Angel Dust screamed.

Alastor growled as the smoke cleared, revealing a one eyed woman wearing hot pink from head to toe and mismatched shoes. "What's up hoes!"

The shield dropped before anyone could catch it, Dawn's attention snapping toward the stranger.

Angel laughed and ran up to the intruder. "Cherri Bomb? Holy shit!"

"Angie, ya bitch! You been texting me depressin' shit all day! Figured we could tear shit up like old times. It's been fucking forever!"

Charlie ran around Dawn and Alastor, dragging Vaggie along with her to meet the woman that had just blown up the north wall. 

He looked down to Dawn, her eyes blinking back into the present. "Angel's friend."

"I'm assuming not a very good friend."

She shrugged. "She's an enabler. Can't blame her too much. She's got her own issues. I'm assumin' she's here to drag him out to the club. You got any interest in goin'?"

"I think you know the answer to that question, chérie."

She smirked. "I'm sure I could convince you."

Dawn could convince him to do just about anything but willingly going to a club in Hell was low on that list. Especially when it came to the type of clubs that he imagined someone like Angel Dust to frequent.

"I wish you the best of luck," he quipped.

She breathed a laugh before walking over to the group of demons. Charlie handed Cherri and Angel some handfuls of money before a portal opened up near the staircase.

"Oh! The portal's here! Have fun you guys and stay safe!" Charlie grabbed Vaggie's incredibly stiff hand and dragged her to to her doom wrapped in white clouds and golden cities.

Alastor considered his options: either join Dawn in whatever awful plan Angel and his incredibly obnoxious friend have cooked up for the residents or stay in the hotel and anxiously await for her to return. He groaned. He knew what his choice would be but he absolutely dreaded the idea.

After a few moments of whispering amongst the women, Dawn was walking back up to him. "So you comin'?"

"You're going to have to do much more convincing than this, chérie."

She bit her lips, trying to contain her smile. "What if I told you that the club we're goin' to plays twenties music?"

Angel walked up behind her, throwing an arm over her shoulders. "I've known Smiles here a few extra weeks more than you and, lemme tell ya, he's not comin'."

She turned to him, her lip quivering as she continued in her futile mission of concealing her smile. "I told him the club plays twenties music."

Angel's brow raised for a second before whatever realization he had came crashing down, making him laugh uncontrollably. 

Alastor looked at her incredulously. "I don't know what it is but something tells me that is a lie."

"No, no," Angel breathed between cackles, "she's tellin' the truth. Some of the songs are even older."

Her face was bright red. Was she holding her breath?

"I will consider it," Alastor answered finally. 

Angel laughed even harder. "Holy shit, Feathers! You might actually get Smiles to the club! Ha! This'll be beautiful."

The two of them laughed as they walked up the stairs together, followed by Cherri Bomb and an overly eager Niffty.

Was he really going to go? This was one of his nightmares come to life. Truly, the fact that he was even considering it frightened him a bit. The power Dawn held over him should have been much more concerning but, as much as he was dreading the night ahead of him, he would do anything to spend as much time with her as possible.

She only had a ten percent chance of survival. He could lose her... forever. Going even an hour without her near him felt like the weight of a house was pressing down on his chest, his lungs would suddenly lose the ability to take in air and he genuinely feared that every goodbye would be their last. 

"You alright?"

Alastor snapped out of his tunnel of dread and turned to a worried Husk. "Of course I'm alright. What ever could be wrong?" he answered, his voice much higher pitched that usual. 

The cat looked at him curiously. Alastor could feel that he was learning far too much with his assessing gaze.

"Do not read me, Husker."

"Don't worry, boss, you're almost impossible to read anyway. Everything comes through blurry. I can't make heads or tails of it." He shrugged. "Can you blame me for trying?"

"I can and I will," Alastor growled.

Husk swallowed hard before dropping his head and quickly walking over to where the snake and the goat sat on the couch, waiting for the gaggle of women and Angel Dust to get ready for the day's activities.

Alastor's heart rate was picking up. Not this again.

He quickly disappeared into his room, away from any watching eyes. His breath was almost a wheeze. He clutched at his tightening chest before sinking to the ground.

Dawn was doomed. Why couldn't he escape that awful thought? Why couldn't he remain calm? He had no reason to panic. He was making that ten percent happen. He didn't care what he had to do or who he had to go through, she was surviving.

He was Alastor, The Radio Demon, part Loa and son of The Baron Samedi. He was Death. His wife was the daughter of Time himself, their marriage officiated by the daughter of Thanatos for Heaven's sake. Doom was as powerless as the dirt on his shoes compared to him. Doom bent to his will, not the other way around.

So then why was he halfway to a heart attack?

Tears stung in his eyes as he hugged his legs tight to his chest, wanting for nothing more than to disappear into himself. Dawn was going to die. He was going to lose her forever. He couldn't breathe. The tears stained his cheeks as he trembled and sobbed into his knees.

He didn't know how long he spent sitting there crying before she appeared kneeling in front of him. "Shhh," Dawn cooed, "I'm right here, Al."

He felt like he was lost at sea, drowning, his lungs filling with water. Her voice was the light coming from the shore, beckoning him to solid ground. He was so close to safety.

"What is this? Why does it keep happening?" He gasped for air.

Her hands cupped his jaw and she used her thumb to wipe away his tears. "It's called a panic attack, hun. I need you to breathe. Follow my lead."

She inhaled deep. Alastor mimicked her. After a few seconds, she let out the breath. Alastor did the same. They repeated the ritual for three more breaths.

"Tell me five things you can see," she said, her voice soft and soothing.

"What?"

"Look around the room and tell me five things you can see."

His eyes darted around the space, his mind hardly keeping up with what was happening. "Our bed," he rasped, "d-deer skulls... you... our door...two - two chairs."

Dawn smiled softly. "Good. Now name four things you're touchin'."

"Dawn, wha - what is this?"

"Shh, just tell me the four things."

Alastor leaned further into her palm. "Your hand...m-my knees...the floor..." he took a shaking breath, "my clothes."

"Three things you can hear."

His ears swiveled toward the bayou behind him, plenty of noises to pinpoint in there. "Crickets chirping... water splashing... my heartbeat." His pulse was still pounding like a drum but it was beginning to slow.

"Two things you can smell."

His breath became more steady as he focused on any aroma around him. "Black roses and the bayou."

"Last one," she reassured. "One thing you can taste."

Alastor licked at his lips, the tears that had dripped to the corners of his smile disappearing into his mouth. "Salt."

She sighed, her hand reaching behind his ears to scratch at the base slowly and smooth down his hair. "Honey, what happened?'

"I- I don't know," he lied, his eyes locked onto the floor.

"It's 'cause of Dusk's premonition again, isn't it." When Alastor didn't answer, Dawn's shoulders sagged. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't've told you. I knew I shouldn't."

Alastor shook his head frantically. "No. No, I needed to know."

He gripped her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, holding her the way a scared child would hold a stuffed bear, discarding her hat to the side so that he could stuff his nose into her hair to inhale her scent. More tears dripped down his face but he could at least breathe.

"What are you doing in here, chérie? I thought you were getting ready to go out with Angel," he whispered into her scalp. 

Her thumb rubbed over his wrist in soothing circles. "I came back to grab my makeup bag and heard you panicking again. We can stay home tonight, hun. I really don't mind."

"I don't want you to miss out for my sake," he murmured.

"I wouldn't be missin' out on much. Spendin' all night with them sounds tirin'. Plus, I was already gettin' second hand embarrassment watchin' Pen's sad puppy dog eyes when he stared at Cherri. I think I'd rather stay home with you. We can celebrate our own way."

Alastor felt a wave of relief wash over him. He really was going to go. He would have been beyond miserable the entire time but he would have been with her. "Thank you, chérie."

Dawn hummed as she kissed him gently, "anytime, Radiohead." 

He hugged her tighter, her face nuzzling into his chest. He burned the image of her into his memory, the feel of her soft skin, the sound of her steady breathing, the floral smell of her perfume, even the taste of her lips on his. She wasn't going anywhere, he would follow her into the pits of nothingness if that was where she led him.

"What was that little trick? How did you know how to do that?"

"Dusk and I used to panic a lot when we first started seein' visions. Dusk's were so much worse. Turns out seein' the future ain't all it's cracked up to be." She breathed a laugh. "First time she ever had one was when I asked her what my husband would look like. I looked into the past to see what I needed to do to calm her down. You scared the hell outta her... and me."

Alastor's ears flattened to his head. "You knew what I looked like?"

"No, she wouldn't show me but her reaction to it wasn't all that reassurin'." She paused for a moment. "I won't say I never saw you before. When I was learnin' the hierarchy of Hell I saw you and Rosie at those meetins but I didn't dive too deep into it. If I needed to know about one of y'all when I got down here, I would learn once I got down here."

If the universe was listening, Alastor was thanking them for blessing him with the circumstances he met Dawn under. She would have been a formidable opponent had she decided to target him. He knew that he would have lost that battle and it would have destroyed him. He was so incredibly lucky that Dawn was on his side.

He didn't answer with anything but a kiss to her forehead. She giggled. "Alright, I gotta go tell Angel I'm not goin'. Came down with some buck fever."

His grip on her tightened. "Please don't leave," he begged quietly.

"You can send Willoughby with me. Just have him hide in the corner or somethin'. I'll be right back, I promise. We can spend the day in the bayou if you want."

Alastor's grip loosened but he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

His shadow appeared in front of him, standing in attention, its hand raised to its forehead in a mock salute. Cheeky thing. "That sounds nice."

Dawn smiled and kissed him on the cheek before taking his shadow's hand and letting it help her to stand. Alastor took a deep breath after she disappeared. She would be right back. She would be okay.

The ten minutes that she was gone felt like an eternity. He spent the entire time pacing his room, fighting with everything he had to just stay calm. He was overreacting. She was only a few floors down. She was fine.

Sand gathered next to him, revealing a perfectly intact Dawn. His hands were cupping her cheeks before she had time to react, his lips meeting hers with a squeal. 

"Al, honey, I was gone for a few minutes."

Alastor didn't answer, his forehead pressing against hers. She was right, he was acting like a buffoon, but he couldn't help it. Not when he knew that he was powerless to fate.

She sighed before gently taking his hand and guiding them into the bayou. The woods were quiet, the waters still. They walked in silence until they made it to a small stream of brackish water.

Dawn bent low, her hand dipping below the surface. The water slowly began to warm, steam eventually rising from it. 

As she stood up, she made a point to not look at her hand, wispy blue embers falling gracefully to the wet ground. 

"I could have done that, chérie." She hated to use her fire magic for obvious reasons. He didn't understand why she wouldn't just ask him, especially for something so trivial.

Dawn's smile was soft, placid. She brought her now dry hand to his chest. "All I did was warm up the water. I'll be fine, hun."

His hand eclipsed hers, the heated skin sending waves of relief through his veins. She was right there in front of him. She was safe.

She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing it with velvet soft lips, before bringing it to her hip to rest. She reached for his bowtie, unwrapping it with delicate care before sending it off into the void of her magic. Her eyes stayed on his as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. 

Alastor stepped out of his clothes as she removed them, all of the pieces being sent off into the ether they kept their belongings in before she mimicked the process, leaving both of them standing completely naked in the middle of their private bayou.

Dawn pointed a finger toward the warm pool, shooting a blue bolt of magic toward it. The water cleared and glimmered under the starlit sky. Alastor always preferred the night. Dark, quiet, a beautiful sight. His bayou was perpetually in a frozen state of midnight.

Blue sand enveloped them and suddenly they were sitting upon a tree root near the edge of the stream, the lower half of their bodies submerged in the now clean water.

Crickets chirped in the distance, followed by the occasional hoot of an owl but they were just illusions. Dawn and Alastor were alone.

Dawn leaned her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around her instinctually. She hummed. "Are you feelin' better?"

His head dropped on top of hers with a sigh. "Much. Thank you, chérie."

"No need."

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before Dawn let out a breathy giggle and rocked herself off of the ledge to be submerged completely underwater.

Alastor leaned back, enjoying the view of his wife playing around in his little world. Their little world.

She emerged about halfway to the other edge of the stream. A blue glow came up from the depths of the water, a platform for her to stand on as she turned to smile at him. 

He never understood the tales of old. The warnings of sirens in the water; the beautiful creatures that lure you in with their beautiful voice, their perfect visage, and their seductive magic. How could a fool fall for such an obvious trick?

Now he understood. Dawn's soaked hair stuck to her skin as water dripped down her pale chest, the playful glimmer in her eyes, glittering lashes sticking together, snatched him up into a trance. The sight was beautiful. He would happily dive deep into the water, drowning with a smile, just to press his lips to hers- to feel her embrace if even for his final moment.

Dawn's giggle echoed through the woods as she swam back up to him, her legs wrapping around his hips as she settled in his lap. 

"You're staring, hun."

"So I am."

She giggled again before kissing him gently. He held her by her waist, safe and sound in his grip. Her lips parted and he welcomed her tongue between his own. She was hungry for him, that was clear. She could have anything she wanted so long as she stayed right in front of him.

Her greedy kisses paused after only a few seconds before she pulled away, her brows knitted. "You're not in the mood," she said plainly. There was no accusation or disappointment found in her tone, just a simple statement.

Alastor widened his smile, he didn't need to be in 'the mood', she could have him any time that she wanted. "Of course I am, darling."

A finger was pressed to his chest before he could bring his lips to her's again. Her brows raised seriously. "No. You're not."

"I-" He sighed, his ears drooping down over his hair. "I'm sorry, chérie. I-"

She cut him off with a soft shush. "You know I'm the last person you would ever need to apologize to for that, right?"

Alastor sighed again. What did he ever do to deserve this woman? She would never do anything that he didn't want her to do. Not even if given explicit permission to do so. In what world did he deserve such a devoted wife, a charming girl to love and to cherish. None. This is his Hell. This is his punishment. 

She would be taken from him. 

Dawn pecked him on the cheek before she moved to sit next to him. His hands gripped her waist harder. "Just- Just stay right here."

Her hips relaxed in his lap, arms thrown around his shoulders. He pulled her in for an embrace. He needed to feel her beating heart against his own.

Dawn began to hum quietly. His ear twitched in response. He knew that tune but it had been so long since he'd heard it, his mother being the last voice that hummed that same melody.

"And what are you doing humming Bye Bye Blackbird?"

"Well I learned it as a surprise for your birthday but I guess I'll just have to learn somethin' else in two days."

Alastor weakly chuckled. "Well I didn't tell you to stop, dear."

Dawn fell back into her humming only this time louder, as well as accompanied by quiet lyrics. 

'Bye Bye Blackbird...Gonna pack up all my care and woe...Here I go swingin' low...Bye bye blackbird...Where somebody waits for me...Sugar's sweet, so is she...Bye bye blackbird.'

Alastor tapped his foot along as she continued to sing for him. Her voice was beautiful as always, her range was always so impressive. Her voice was low when she spoke but a sweet mezzo-soprano when she sang. His mother was the same. What he wouldn't give to hear a duet, to hear their voices in the same room.

"Is this one of the songs from the twenties you promised to me that the club would be featuring?"

Dawn froze, the song ending abruptly. She sat up to meet his gaze, her smile shy and guilty. "I wasn't talkin' about the 1920's..."

His eyes narrowed, amused. "You are a tricky little witch. Did you know that?"

She blushed. "Only a little," she emphasized by pinching her fingers together. 

They laughed together, Alastor's mood much better improved. The day wouldn't be as long as he had thought. They could wait all night in the bayou if they pleased. The Princess was busy watching her world collapse around her and the residents were out enjoying a night of debauchery. The only demons that existed as far as he was concerned were him and Dawn. Until he was forced to accept otherwise, he would enjoy this moment with her as long as he could manage. 

"You want me to heat up the water again or do you wanna go to the cabin?"

Alastor hadn't even realized how long they had been sitting in the stream, he was far too focused on keeping her close- busy convincing himself that he could shield her, protect her from anything and everything that came their way.

"The cabin sounds lovely, darling."

Sand surrounded them once again and they were transported into the small hunting cabin Alastor modeled after the one he used to frequent when alive. 

Dawn walked toward the small kitchen with a stretch of her arms and wings, the muscles of her back pronounced themselves much more in these recent months. He wondered just how much of a burden those wings had been to her. Dawn being Dawn, she never said a word about it, nor did she ask for relief, but he could see the strain of them. 

Her preening and general care of them was always done privately, as if she were ashamed of the need to do so. He was certain that she would have no complaints when the velvet of his antlers would peel away in the fall- that she would offer her help in any way that she could- but refused to return the favor to herself. She always shooed him off when he offered his help.

She seemed to come to terms with the tail, quickly using it to her advantage once she learned to control it some. She often complained about the pale skin, her adventurous self was always an outdoor body when she was alive. The color of her skin stayed naturally tanned throughout her lifetime but the color and life had left her features since her fall. To anyone else, that would have been her most hated feature. But Alastor knew better, her most hated addition was the wings.

She never spoke about what truly bothered her, a pet peeve of his, but he didn't understand what about them specifically she was so bothered by. Was it simply the weight of them? Or perhaps was it because it was the most obvious loss of her humanity? He knew that she wouldn't give him an answer as to why but he was so lost on how to help her.

"You know there are some demons that travel to Earth for work every once in a while. The Goetia have spells for disguises so that they blend in fine. Illegal to pass on that knowledge to sinners though."

What was she going on about? "Well that would make sense. Wouldn't want us sinners to feel any semblance of comfort in Hell."

She smirked. "If only there were a way for someone to see what they hide in those grimoires."

His ears perked up. "Are you offering a trip to Earth, chérie?"

Dawn giggled. "No. Pretty sure Baphomet and Lucifer would be notified if we got caught sneakin' onto Earth but..." Her body was consumed in a blue light so bright, Alastor had to shield his eyes.

Once he was sure he wouldn't be blinded if he dared open his eyes, he stood stock still as he laid his eyes on her.

"We could play some pretend."

Bright blue eyes met his, long copper hair draping down a wingless, sun-kissed torso. A sight he had come to terms with that he would never see again stood smiling in front of him.

He laughed, one of pure joy, before darting toward her. His hand cupped her cheek. He was so comically large compared to her, his hand nearly encompassed her entire head. "Chérie," he choked out.  

She craned her neck to look at him. "Hey, honey."

Once again, Alastor was blinded by a bright light. His body prickled but he felt no pain. He blinked away the spots in his vision when the light died down, the kitchen much larger than it was only a moment ago. 

The hand cupping Dawn's cheek was sized much more appropriately, his pitch black skin now changed to a warm brown. He glided his hands over her body. His memory did her no justice, her beauty rivaled by none. 

Her hands met his chest, doing her own mapping of him. Her manicured nails lightly grazing the hairs on his skin. She reached up and brushed a thumb over the corner of his smile. "You ever think about removin' the stitches?"

Alastor had lost every bit of control he had when he fell. His body was no longer his—his soul, his memories, everything was ripped from him before he even realized he was dead. There was no Virgil to guide his way, only the burning of brimstone on his blackened hands and the screaming of sinners' eternal torment in ears that were no longer on the sides of his head.

His magic was chaos in the beginning, his living shadow the only company he had—and even that thing terrified him. He dug his claws into his skin, wanting to tear himself from the nightmare, until his shadow offered him a needle and thread. He didn’t want the fear, the panic—he wanted to feel joy once more, even if it was nothing more than a forgery. His smile became his armor, even his weapon. It hid the horror of his new reality and ensured that he appeared in control, even when he was laughably far from it.

He put his hand over hers. "I don't believe I ever will."

She hummed, her face unreadable. "Let me make you some dinner."

His hand was around her arm the second she tried to walk away. "I will make us dinner, chérie."

Dawn smiled and rolled her eyes. She knew better than to argue. Letting her cook for the hotel was one thing but Alastor missed cooking their private meals like they did in their home. 

He snapped some clothes on them, her in a red silk nightgown and him in his tee shirt and cotton pants. They were there to relax- to get away from Hell for a bit- this would be just like their days off in Purgatory. 

Dawn sat on the counter and talked with him while he worked, his microphone playing lively jazz for them. The meal didn't take long, some alligator Po' Boys plated and ready to eat within a few minutes. These were her favorite in Purgatory, something he found great joy in. Her favorite meal was one that he made for her, from his home, from his history.

Just as they finally sat to eat, Alastor's shadow dollies cleaning the kitchen for them, his shadow rushed into the room chittering excitedly. 

Dawn giggled at its erratic behavior, stopping the thing dead in its tracks. Its head whipped around to face Alastor, its expression pure bewilderment as its head looked him up and down dramatically. 

"Willoughby, what's goin' AHH-"

The shadow darted for her, knocking her off of her chair and cushioning her fall with its body before kissing her all over her face.

Alastor stood quickly to help her off the ground. "What has gotten into you?" he scolded.

She giggled as she stood up, the shadow pouting on the floor. 

"Oh, don't be so harsh on him, hun. He's just a little excited is all. Only time he saw me human, he was trapped in your subconscious."

"What? How did you-" His question was answered before he finished asking it. The shadow making delicate movements with its hands, to which she answered with her own. "You're teaching him to sign?"

"You always send me out with him, I gotta talk to him somehow."

"He can understand you just fine, chérie." 

She smirked before turning to the shadow and signing something to it. When it answered her, her eyes widened. "Already?"

It nodded its head excitedly. 

Dawn giggled before holding out a thumb, twisting it up and down.

The shadow held out a thumbs down, blowing a raspberry for good measure. Childish creature.

Alastor had just about had it. The shadow was fully capable of giving him whatever information it was wasting far more energy on telling her rather than him without the petty theatrics. "What is it?"

Dawn ran up to Alastor, jumping up on him and planting a deep kiss into his lips. His annoyance dissolved immediately, snapped out of his mood like it was never there in the first place. 

When she pulled away her smile was manic, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Honey, they're back from the meetin'! Looks like it went more sideways than we were expectin'."

Alastor turned to his shadow. "Where is Charlie now?"

It held up two hands, mimicking an argument between them with high pitched chitters.

The Princess and her angel were arguing. The one and only person Charlie thought she could trust was just ousted as a liar, the very thing that Charlie was working against. She would be alone in this, needing support desperately. 

They laughed, Alastor twirling Dawn into a dance. The music coming from his microphone got louder, the dancing picking up in pace. This was it. The opportunity to strike was upon them. Now all they needed to do was lay and wait for Charlie to be left alone- the contract was good as signed as far as he was concerned. The next step in their plan would be to get Charlie on that throne, convincing Lucifer that his daughter was capable.

Alastor would be a free man and Dawn would finally be safe. 

Chapter Text

An unseen audience filled the room with canned applause. Alastor lifted Dawn into the air by her waist. He laughed at the surprised squeal that fell from her lips.

His shadow popped a prop champagne bottle, inky bubbles coating the logs of the cabin.

"This is it, chérie! We've done it!"

Dawn giggled as he set her down. "We haven't done nothin' yet, hun. Don't go on jumpin' the shark."

Alastor ignored yet another reference he didn't understand in favor of running his fingers through the ginger locks that he missed dearly - bringing her in for a deep, celebratory kiss.

Another squeal escaped from her when he picked her up to seat her onto the dining table. Having the strength of a demon in the body of a human was exhilarating! It was the closest he had felt to godhood since the discovery of his parentage. He stored that thought away - he would know true godhood soon, as would Dawn.

Peppering excited kisses down the column of Dawn's throat, he hummed into her skin.

She gasped and arched for him when his hand gripped her soft backside.

"Al, we don't have to-"

He quieted her with a kiss. "I want to, dear. Besides, what's a celebration without a meal," he purred.

Dawn's cheeks rushed with blood; the pink hue a perfect pairing with her lively skin color.

When they were finally gods, would they have the ability to look like themselves again? Not just these human disguises that Dawn had cooked up for them, but true flesh and blood. Would they be entirely different creatures than the cursed sinners the universe mistook them for?

Questions soon to be answered if all went according to plan. Which, of course, it would because that was his will.

A finger was pressed into his chest. "Before we get carried away, Radiohead, I've got some business to attend to."

Alastor's head dropped to the side, his brows knitting in question.

She gave him a devilish smirk. "You can tag along if you want but you gotta stay in the shadows."

Intrigued as ever, he squinted as they were both consumed by bright light. Once again in their demon forms, Dawn surrounded them in sand.

They manifested in the hallway just outside of their room. Alastor gave Dawn one more suspicious look before dissolving into an inky puddle of black - seating himself comfortably within her shadow.

Dawn held her hands behind her back, tail flicking about lazily, as she skipped down the hallway towards the room they had been calling hers. A small key appeared in her hand. She leaned against the door, facing the end of the hallway that led to the staircase, gold reflecting between her fingers as she fiddled with the key and waited. What she was waiting for, Alastor had no clue.

A few moments passed but Dawn didn't move, her head bobbing as she absentmindedly hummed the tune of Bye Bye Blackbird. Alastor was just about to whisper to her from the shadows when his attention caught on the sound of frantic footsteps running up the stairs.

Just about the last person he would have expected her to be waiting for turned the corner. Vaggie's singular eye was flushed with gold, slightly puffed, and glaring daggers at Dawn.

"Well if it ain't my favorite angel," Dawn mused. "Looks like we're due for a conversation, little darlin'."

Vaggie's fists balled up and her entire body tensed, nostrils flaring like that of a bull seconds from charging. "I was in the middle of something," she sneered.

"And I'm sure it was real important but you owe me and I don't feel like waitin'."

Dawn nodded her head towards the door as she rocked herself up to standing. She used the key to unlock the fib of a room and opened the door wide. "Age before beauty," she purred as she gestured inside.

Vaggie owed Dawn? He had never seen either of them exchange much more than a few snide remarks in the other's direction. What sort of deal did Dawn strike with the angel? And why did she not tell him about it?

"I'm not even that much older than you," Vaggie grumbled as she stormed into the room.

Dawn shot a wink in Alastor's direction before walking in behind the little ball of wrath.

Once inside the room, Alastor separated himself from Dawn's shadow. Instead, choosing to hide away in the shadows of the room, finding a corner that held the best view.

"You want a drink?" Dawn asked casually, a bar cart appearing out of thin air next to her.

"¿¡Estás jodiendo!? No I don't want a fucking drink! The exorcists are headed straight for the hotel in a month and Charlie won't even talk to me!" Vaggie's eye began to well with tears. "I want to be with my girlfriend! If she even still wants me…" her voice trailed off.

Dawn swallowed hard. Not only were the exorcists coming early, they were coming to the hotel. She steeled her expression. "I'm sure everythin'll be fine. But…" she stopped, tasting the words before she spoke them, "I need you to stay away from her for a bit."

"WHAT?!" Vaggie had a spear in her hand within the second.

Alastor grit his teeth in an effort to stop himself from tearing the angel to bits for even thinking to threaten his wife. As far as he was concerned, the angel earned her ire for existing in the first place. Dawn should not have to share a roof with the same being that took her mother from her. Rocky relationship or not, she didn't deserve that daily reminder.

Dawn held her hands up calmly. "Listen, I kept your little secret for you. I told you that if Charlie found out on her own though that you would owe me a small favor. I'm just callin' in that favor."

Alastor's tight jaw went slack. Dawn had the favor of an exorcist in her back pocket for who knows how long! Once again, he wondered why she hadn't said anything about it to him.

Vaggie was vibrating with rage. "Your favor is for me to stay away from her?! What the fuck are you gonna do?"

"I'm not gonna do anythin'. You've done enough. I'm just askin' that you stay away from her for… hm," she manifested a pocket watch made of blue sand, "twenty four hours. You can talk to her again 5pm tomorrow."

The pocket watch transformed into an hourglass floating into the air. With a flick of Dawn's wrist, the glass flipped upside down, sand from the top slowly dripping to the bottom.

"Why?" Vaggie growled.

"I just think she needs some time to herself. You know how protective I am of her."

"Bullshit!"

"Fine. If it makes you feel any better, I'll throw myself into the favor. Neither of us get to talk to Charlie for the next twenty four hours. How's that sound, sugar?"

Vaggie narrowed her eye, her knuckles blanching from the deadly grip on the spear. "No."

A scream ripped from Vaggie's throat. Her spear dropped to the ground and she held up her left hand. The pinky finger was bent at the joint, nail flat against the back of her hand; the tell-tale sign of a violated deal. If she didn't give in soon, her entire body would be bent and broken every which way - bone protruding from skin, tendons snapping out of place.

Dawn smirked, the wicked look in her eyes sending a pleased shiver down Alastor's spine.

"Unfortunately, this ain't up for debate. That's my favor."

Utter defeat took over the angel's expression. She cradled her hand, holding it tight to her chest as a tear dripped down her trembling cheek.

"This could be good for y'all. Give the girl some air."

"Fuck you," Vaggie choked out before walking out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

Alastor was beside Dawn the second the sound dissipated into nothing. "Are you alright?"

Dawn shrugged mechanically. "Dusk wouldn't let me die by angel, even if tellin' me 'bout it spoiled her plans."

"But she would let you die by other means," Alastor mumbled.

"I can promise you, if it were up to her, she wouldn't."

Now, what did that mean? Dusk wasn’t speaking to Dawn for some unbeknownst and incredibly inconvenient reason - knowing her chances of survival in Hell. He understood that the Miller Sisters weren’t completely omnipotent, but with their combined powers and skill in morphing Fate to their will, there just had to be more they could do about the future of the firstborn and first dead among them.

"Hun, take a breath before your eyeballs pop out."

He did. There was nothing to be concerned about. She would survive.

With that conversation being one that neither of them wanted to have - it was time for his next qualm.

She held a finger up to his opened and ready to speak mouth. "And before you get all upset, a part of the deal was that we can't talk about said deal with anyone that doesn't know about it. Now you know 'bout it and I can talk to you about it."

A sharp laugh broke from him, his hand clutching his stomach. This beautiful, ruthless, cunning, and incredible woman. She just bought him time - twenty four hours of it!

"Well now we can allow Charlie to wallow for a day. Really let the betrayal settle in," he purred.

She huffed a laugh. "You're a sadist."

He hummed, "I do have a reputation for a reason, dear. Now, tell me, how did you obtain this deal?"

"She figured out pretty quickly that I knew - too many angel puns I guess. Pulled me aside and we got to talkin'. She's real easy to get a deal out of."

She truly was. Alastor thought back to his first week in the hotel. The little angel agreed to a deal with minimal convincing; he would create the commercial of her dreams and in return she wouldn't ask him to engage with that frivolous television nonsense ever again.

He didn't know that she was an angel yet, too busy hiding Dawn away from everyone to learn that fact early enough. But his darling wife remedied that oversight for him. Honestly, what would he have done without her?

"May I watch?"

She breathed a laugh as she held out her hand. Alastor grabbed it excitedly, his eyes glazing over.

Dawn was leaning on the hotel's kitchen counter, directing the staff on dinner preparations.

Vaggie pushed through the swinging stainless steel doors. "Dawn. I need a word," she ordered.

Dawn shot her an incredulous smirk. "I'm in the middle of makin' dinner. Can it wait 'til after, little angel?"

If looks could kill, Dawn wouldn't have been alive to tell the tale. "No."

With an annoyed sigh, Dawn followed Vaggie out of the kitchen. She led them to the small and secluded library, far from any watching eyes.

Dawn crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one hip. "You gonna tell me what this heavenly attitude is all about then?"

"That!" Vaggie hissed. "That's what it's about! The puns! The bitchy remarks!"

The Phoenix Overlord gave her a sinister smile. "Elaborate."

Vaggie growled, her shoulders tensing. "You know! I don't know how but you fucking know! I'm just-," she sighed, "please don't say anything to Charlie. I… I can't disappoint her like that."

"Aww, is killin' at random for years then lyin' to your girlfriend about it bitin' you in the ass, sweetheart?" Dawn lightly grabbed Vaggie's chin, forcing her head up to make eye contact. "I know everythin'," she purred, "it's impossible to keep anythin', from me, darlin'. I’d keep that in mind from here on out."

"Please don't tell Charlie."

"And what do I get out of it?"

Vaggie scoffed, pulling her face away from Dawn's grip. "All you overlords are the same! Always looking to make a deal! No wonder you and shitlord get along so well."

Dawn's eye twitched at the nickname for Alastor. "Watch your tone," she warned.

"Are you asking for my soul?" Vaggie rasped.

Dawn laughed at that. "No need for it, sugar. I'll keep your secret for you. Won't talk about your angelic heritage with anyone unless they already know about it."

The angel looked at her in shock. "You- you'll just keep it to yourself? Why?"

"Feelin' generous. Can't tell anyone that I'm not at least a little understandin'."

Vaggie eyed Dawn cautiously. "What's the catch?"

"Smart girl," Dawn smirked, "I'll keep your secret for you but when Charlie finds out on her own, which she will, you're gonna owe me a small favor."

A spear was drawn. "I don't even want to know what kind of favor an overlord would want from an exorcist. No fucking way!"

Dawn shrugged. "I could always just go tell Charlie. Make this easier on you."

The spear was under Dawn's chin, pressing into her skin just shy of breaking it.

Dawn's face contorted in anger. Her eyes shifted to black, blue hourglasses replacing her irises.

Vaggie gasped when Dawn dissolved into sand, reappearing behind her with a loud, "BOO!"

The angel turned quickly but Dawn was already across the room before the spear could impale her. "I don't take too kindly to being threatened, Vaggie," she said calmly, her eyes already returned to their normal red, "but I could always let this slide if you just agree to the deal."

Vaggie's breathing was erratic, panicked. The reality of her position visibly weighing her down. "What kind of favor?"

Dawn hummed, "whatever I'll need from you in the moment. Won't be nothin' crazy. Oh! One last thing…"

Vaggie's eye narrowed while she awaited Dawn's amendment.

"… no talkin' to anyone 'bout this deal unless they already know about it. Only person you can blab to is me."

"Did you already tell Alastor?"

Dawn's head dropped to the side. "Well the deal hasn't happened yet so no. Won't be able to tell him anythin' - he doesn't know 'bout it."

"No. Did you tell him that I'm an exorcist?"

"Why would I have told him that?"

Vaggie's arms crossed at her chest. "I don't know… you're extra friendly with him. You seem to be shitty enough to tell him just to get on his good side."

"Well I'm not sure what you're insinuatin' but I can assure you that I wouldn't need all that much to get on his good side. People find that I'm lovely company on my own."

An annoyed huff from Vaggie before extending her hand. "Fine," she growled.

A blue glow took over Dawn's eyes. She stalked closer to her victim, hand reaching out. Their hands met and the room filled with a bright blue light.

Alastor blinked much more than necessary, processing the side of his wife that he'd just watched.

Her hand still in his, he flipped her palm up, bringing his lips to her delicate wrist. She was beautiful when at work, not a note to be made.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him gently kiss up her arm, heavily lidded eyes locked on hers.

"That's what'll do it for you?" she teased, her eyes wide above her blushing cheeks.

He chuckled into her skin. "Of course, my dear. You are an impressive little witch and you are all mine. Reason as any to appreciate my lovely wife, is it not?"

"You're ridiculous," she giggled.

Lips having made their way up to her shoulder, he moved to nip gently at her jaw. His control over the blood lust had made leaps and bounds recently. He wasn't quite ready to drink directly from her but he was at least comfortable enough to tease her with his teeth.

"One of the many things on your ever growing list of things you love about me, I'm sure."

"Bold of you to assume I got a list. And that it grows."

Alastor hummed into her cheek before picking her up by her waist. She wrapped her legs around him, lips crashing into his.

Enveloping them in shadow, they transported to the bed, Dawn seated comfortably on his lap.

His hand tangled in her hair, her hat falling from her head, as his tongue parted her lips. She moaned into his mouth and slowly rocked her hips.

He shuddered, his sensitive skin rubbing against rough fabric. He swung his legs onto the bed to lie on his back and brought her down with him. With a snap of his fingers, Dawn was nude.

She shivered from the sudden exposing of her skin. He gave her a wicked grin before grabbing her by the hips and picking her up to seat her on his face.

She squealed, gasping when his tongue got to work - running flat over her core.

His shadow appeared in the room, chittering in a language only Alastor could understand. The hotel was empty. Vaggie disappeared from the grounds and Charlie was gone to chase after her. The rest of the residents were still out at the club. The hotel was theirs for the evening.

Alastor plunged his tongue into her.

She let out a scream, her hands gripping onto the headboard of the cheap bed.

He thrust his tongue with vigor, pressing down hard on the soft tissue that played the sweetest notes. Dawn's body was an instrument - one he kept finely tuned and cared for. He'd learned to play her with precision: the pitch of her voice accompanying the strings he plucked, the sound of his name playing out when he hit just the right key.

Her claws gouged into the headboard, splinters of wood raining down into his hair, his ears flicking away the debris. He paid it no mind, his focus solely on pulling as much noise from her as possible.

Her hips bucked and she let out a strangled moan as her core tightened around his tongue.

Grasping for purchase, her tail wrapped around his neck.

He moaned into her when it choked him. His eyes flew open as he processed this new revelation. Oh he liked that.

The noose Dawn had so graciously adorned him with began to loosen. Alastor quickly brought a hand to it, desperately keeping his restraints in place.

"Al-" she grunted. An unsuccessful apology died in her throat as he applied more pressure with his tongue.

He wondered how many times he could make her come before she strangled him to the point of passing out. Dawn did love to test a theory, it was about time they tested one of his own.

His hand trailed up her stomach, gripping one of her breasts and pinching her peaked nipple. She whimpered, one of her hands wrapping around his antler as her hips absentmindedly rocked over his face.

She tightened her grip around his neck again, just enough to remind him that she could pop his head clean off if she so pleased. The thought ripped a groan from his chest.

She came for him again, thighs trembling around his head. He allowed her to release her hold on him as she sat up.

She crawled down him, seating her hips over his waist, pressing her chest to his. He leaned up to kiss her but she smoothly jerked her head back with a teasing grin.

He tried again, only to be met with the same reaction.

She raised her brows with an expecting smile. He gave her a breathy chuckle. "Please, chérie?"

Dawn giggled. "Well look at you with your manners."

She brought her lips to his. He raked his hands through her hair, a deep moan reverberating from his chest. He needed to be closer to her, inside her.

She must have agreed with that sentiment given that she snapped his clothes away. Her lips moved to his cheek, then his jaw, trailing down his body until she stopped at his hips.

His breath caught when she wrapped her soft hand over his length. He bucked into her hand as she stroked him, a whine dripping from his mouth.

Dawn kissed the tip of his already dripping cock before wrapping her lips around it. Her tongue drew languid circles around him.

He rocked his hips, making her giggle around him. The vibration of her voice almost catapulted him over the edge but he grit his teeth and held himself together. She wanted her own fun, to play her own instrument.

She took more of him into her mouth, her cheeks concaving as she brought her head back up.

Alastor let out a high-pitched sound he dared not name. His claws dug deep into the mattress.

The look Dawn gave should have terrified him - the face of a fox who'd successfully cornered the chicken - but all he felt was scorching heat, melting him further into the bed.

Her tail flicked around excitedly and the feathers of her wings puffed out. She ran her tongue from the base to the tip, humming into his sensitive skin. He let out a shuddering breath at the sensation. Her mouth wrapped around him again, bringing her head down even further this time.

He grit his teeth in an effort to keep himself together. Dawn was not having any of that, her hand and mouth working in tandem over his length.

His hooves curled in against his will. Not yet - he could not give in just yet. He sunk into shadow, whining at the lack of warmth around his cock, and reappearing behind Dawn.

She gasped and turned her head to face him. "I wasn't done," she pouted.

"Neither was I," he countered. Catching his breath was much more difficult at the moment; he didn't realize just how much effort he was expelling just trying to hold out for longer than his body begged for.

Careful to keep his claws retracted, he gripped her hips and brought his mouth to her core. He didn't think he would ever be done with her.

His cock twitched when he heard her whimpering for him. His name on her lips sounded more like a prayer than a beg, worshipping him for kneeling at her altar. They were already gods to each other. They gave their offerings, let them guide each other’s way of living. Everything revolved around them, and they would have it no other way. One would never lead the other astray.

She came for him again with a scream. He lapped up every last drop of her gift before trailing kisses up her back, gliding a finger over the bone of her wing.

She shuddered under him, her chest falling onto the mattress and presenting herself for him.

The sight had his mouth watering. She was beautiful always but the complete shedding of any decency nearly undid him completely every single time.

This body had seen no other - been touched by no other. It was his alone, and he would show it nothing but absolute adoration.

He used his knee to spread her legs wider, wanting to be as deep inside her as he could possibly be. She brushed the feathers of her tail up his abdomen. His breath shook when the tickling sensation tingled through his stomach.

He heard her giggle under her breath as she arched more for him. He could not take it anymore; his hand wrapped around his cock and he guided himself inside.

They both sighed a moan as he pressed himself deeper. Alastor gripped her waist and began to thrust.

Her tail wrapped around his hips, quickening his rhythm, and a lasso made of blue sand wrapped around his neck, making him grunt when she pulled his head down to her shoulders.

He groaned at the feel of her warmth touching nearly every bit of skin. He stuck his nose into her hair, breathing her in while she writhed beneath him.

"Dawn," he mewled into her ear. Her head rubbed against his cheek, and he watched as her eyes began to roll back. She loved to hear her name almost as much as he did, and he would happily oblige her - the one syllable tasting just as sweet as she did.

Their rhythm faltered for a moment, both losing themselves in the moment. His breathing became a rasp as her voice pitched higher. Her grip on the lasso tightened, jerking his head further into the crook of her neck.

Alastor grit his teeth and strangled out a moan when she tightened around him. Careful to keep his teeth to himself, he came with her.

His cock twitched and pulsed inside and he had no intention of separating himself from her. His hand pressed against her stomach as he rocked his hips fruitlessly into her, as if he could somehow find his way deeper inside.

Dawn giggled through deep breaths as the lasso dissipated into nothing. "You makin' yourself at home back there?"

His nose dug deeper into her neck, chuckling into her skin. "If only, chérie."

Begrudgingly, he pulled out. He laid on his back and pulled her on top of him, her head nuzzling into his chest. He used his thumb to rub away the mascara running under her eyes and pressed a tender kiss into her forehead.

They ended up sleeping in her room that night, too comfortable and getting lost in conversation to force themselves back to their room.

*****

Alastor woke up first - as usual - spending the small bit of time he had while she lay unconscious to straighten out the feathers on her wings that he knew she couldn't reach on her own.

He did this often, knowing that she would never allow his help otherwise but she didn't seem to notice. That or she refused to acknowledge that she needed the help in the first place, stubborn woman that she was, he would not be surprised if it was the latter.

Dawn stirred, her long eyelashes fluttering open. She hummed and smiled up at him. "Mornin'," she murmured before closing her tired eyes and pressing her head to his chest.

He rubbed gentle circles over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Good morning, chérie."

"I got some sinner's meat hidden away in the freezer downstairs. I can make you somethin' for breakfast before I start lunch for everyone. You're gonna need all the energy you can spare today."

"That would be lovely, dear."

She blinked lazily before stretching her body. "Alright, let me go wake up Jordan."

Dawn disappeared from the room, leaving him to ponder his best course of action.

Today he would be collecting their ticket to freedom and he would not fail her. It wasn’t even an option to fail her.

He called upon his shadow. The thing appeared in the room, visibly disappointed that Dawn was not in there with him. It crossed its arms and tapped its foot impatiently, no doubt wanting to go find her.

Alastor rolled his eyes at the thing, earning him a few sassy chitters. "Where is Charlie?"

The thing shrugged.

"Well then go find her."

It sighed before disappearing from the room. He felt when it got sidetracked and pressed its lips into Dawn's smiling cheeks. He scolded it through their bond, earning him even more impatient chitters.

The shade has gotten so unruly since Dawn's arrival in Hell. Alastor had no idea what to do with it; it wasn't like he could force himself to cease his adoration for his wife, the shadow was just acting upon it more so than he could control. Vexing thing.

A few moments later, his shadow reappeared in the room. Charlie was sobbing alone in her room. Vaggie was staying in one of the many unused rooms in the hotel - as far away from Dawn as possible.

He chuckled to himself. He often forgot how terrifying his wife was. That could only mean that he needed to see more of her in action. She was the most powerful overlord in Hell.

Alastor knew better than to underestimate her, even before they knew what her magic could do, but as far as he was concerned - Dawn was sent to him straight from Heaven. Technically, Mount Olympus but the sentiment stayed the same.

He was giving himself whiplash, juggling between believing that she was his gift and then his curse. Perhaps she was a bit of both.

The nerves hit him. Was Charlie desperate enough? Would she kick him and Dawn from the hotel if he attempted a deal? Most deals he'd made in the past were for power, some for fun, but never had he made one that would be so detrimental if he were to fail.

This was his only chance at freeing his soul. The actual freeing of his and Dawn's souls would come later but this was the first and most important step in their plan.

What was he thinking? Of course he could do it. He was the most feared overlord in Hell for a reason. He knew exactly what to do, what to say, to get the outcome he desired.

What he desired most was the death of Baphomet and Lucifer but he was sure Charlie would have a few strong opinions when it came to that, especially when it came to her father.

What to do about Lucifer? They didn't know if there was any way to kill The Devil. Would he fall if struck with angelic steel like any other angel? Was he considered an angel still? Could Alastor's magic consume him like it did any other sinner? He would find out soon whether or not an angel could fall victim to his death magic - was it worth the risk to test it on Lucifer?

Backup plans. What horrible concepts. Rarely did he ever have to resort to them but he always had plenty. This situation called for more than just a few but their options were limited.

He snapped his clothes in place, deciding that a morning stroll could clear his head. He needed to stay focused, his wife's life depended on his success.

He melted into shadow and appeared on the other side of the door. His body was a bit sore after the previous night's antics so he took a moment to crack his neck and stretch his arms, joints cracking at every small movement.

"No. Fuckin'. Way."

Alastor's microphone screeched with feedback as his head snapped in the direction of the voice.

Angel Dust stood stock still, his mouth dropping open and his eyes wide.

Alastor steeled his expression. No. Not like this. "Good morning, Angel," he said smoothly, thanking the heavens when his voice didn't tremble.

"I'll bet it was," Angel laughed, "what are you doin' comin' out of Dawn's room?"

"Oh, come now, my good man, I was just going for a jaunt around the hotel. There is no need to make any assumptions. You know what they say about assumptions."

"I saw your freaky ass shadows comin' up from the door, Smiles."

Fuck. "What are you doing on this floor, Angel? The only ones who have rooms up here would be Mrs. Dawn and I."

"I was just comin' to check on her. She said she came down with somethin' last night. Didn't meet us out at the club." Angel hummed, "come to think of it, you didn't go out to the club either… the two of you's was alone in the hotel all day and all night."

Angel's self satisfied smile would have been a death sentence if it weren't for his friendship with Dawn. Alastor only hummed, straightening his bow tie to add to his aloof disposition.

"Well I do hope that she is feeling better. I don't like to give my employees too many sick days, kills the work ethic. Besides, I need her to prepare a celebratory lunch in honor of Charlie's triumph in Heaven."

"So the meetin' went well? None of us have seen Ms. glitter and rainbows all mornin'… or Vags."

Alastor's smile crept higher. "I have not heard anything yet but I have all of the confidence in the world that our Princess accomplished the impossible last night."

Angel rolled his eyes. Again, the spider was incredibly lucky to be Dawn's friend. "Whatever you say, Smiles, I'm goin' to check on Dawn. You leave her the ability to walk? You seem more the snuff than the smut type. Is she even alive?"

Now it was Alastor's turn to roll his eyes. "Again, Angel, I am just out on a walk. I do not know the state of Mrs. Dawn."

Angel snorted. "Yeah right. She in there?"

Alastor shrugged and walked past the lanky sinner - tired of this conversation. A word with Dawn about keeping the spider quiet about what he just saw was in order it seemed.

He traveled through the shadows, appearing in the kitchen where Dawn was focused on making lunch for the hotel, giving her orders to Jordan.

"It smells lovely, dear."

Both Dawn and Jordan jumped at the sound of his highly distorted voice, Jordan appearing to almost faint at the sight of him.

"Dammit, Al, quit doin' that," she said with a hand held to her chest.

His head dropped to the side. She was wearing nothing but a lilac nightgown, white fluffy slippers covering her exposed feet. "You are in your pajamas, chérie."

"Well I wanted to get your food made before everyone else started wakin' up and botherin' us 'bout lunch," she gestured to Jordan who was clutching at the counter trying to catch his breath. "Vaggie already wants me dead, don't want her kickin' me out for cookin' your cannibal cuisine."

Jordan shuddered at the mention of Alastor's special diet. He chuckled before snapping Dawn's usual attire into place.

She crossed her arms and huffed her annoyance. "I was gonna do that after your meal, hun."

"Why wait?"

"So you could have dessert."

His mic screeched, making Jordan cover his large goat ears while Dawn smirked at his reaction.

The goat may be the one person in the hotel that is aware of their marriage but the details of it were none of his concern. Not to mention that he was absolutely horrified at the thought of anyone imagining his wife in such a way.

A growl bubbled in his chest, his ears pinned to his scalp, as he laid eyes on Jordan. Dawn grabbed his chin and turned his head to face her. "I'm not exactly his type, Al."

"There you are, Feathers," Angel burst in. "Smiles. Funny seein' you here."

Dawn's hand was already at her side. "Mr. Alastor was just checkin' on lunch. What's up, Angel?"

The spider smirked. "I just came to tell you that creepy pants over here was in your room this morning. And to make sure you were alive to tell me about it."

"Don't be gross, Angel. He's my boss."

"That what you call him in bed?"

Dawn groaned into her hand. "You're makin' my headache worse."

Angel laughed. "So you gonna give me the details or not?"

"As hotelier, and host of this hotel, I must ask that you keep these comments to yourself."

"No can do. Dawn, how big?"

"Christ Angel!"

He was clutching his stomach laughing now. Alastor's cheeks were rushing with blood, glaring at Jordan who dared let out a quiet chuckle. The goat quickly made himself scarce leaving Alastor alone with Dawn and Angel.

Dawn sighed. "Angel, whatever you think is goin' on, it's not like that. I can promise you that."

"So you're not fucking? Come on, Dawn, you know I can smell it on ya. Both of ya. It's literally my job."

Dawn glanced up at Alastor sighing before she turned back towards the sinner that was on incredibly thin ice. Friend of Dawn's or not, he could not risk the loss of Charlie's trust. Not today.

"Please don't say anythin' to anyone."

Angel grinned wide. "Okay, I'll keep it to myself but you gotta give me details."

Dawn cocked a brow at him. "You gotta shake on it, Angel."

The sinner's expression twisted. "The fuck do you mean by that, Dawn? Tryin' to get a deal outta me? I thought… I thought you were different!"

Alastor watched Dawn's lip tremble. She really did care for the spider; it was visibly killing her to have to use her power over him. Even with her life on the line, their souls.

"This is about her safety, Angel," Alastor spoke up.

Dawn looked up at him with an appreciative glint in her eye. She wanted to tell Angel, he could see it in her. It would have eaten away at him if he couldn't tell Rosie, they both knew that. If she trusted him, then, unfortunately, Alastor had no choice but to trust him as well.

"Safety? What are you on about?"

Dawn walked up to Angel, taking one of his four hands in hers. "Let's go talk somewhere more private. I'll tell you what I can. It's not much but I don't wanna lie to you."

Angel's angry expression softened slightly. "Fine."

She turned back to Alastor. "Honey, you think you could swing lunch for me?" She snapped, his coffee mug appearing on the counter next to him. "Some cowgirl coffee for your troubles."

"Honey? What the fuck is cowgirl coffee? If it's a kink you gotta tell me about it, Dawn."

Alastor nodded, reluctantly snapping away any trace of her special meal for him and immediately got to work. This task was one that could keep him busy while he considered what to do about Charlie.

Dawn and Angel were transformed into sand, disappearing from the kitchen.

As Dawn predicted, the residents of the hotel came into the kitchen periodically to check on lunch. Everyone, save for Niffty, turned away immediately upon seeing him being the one cooking rather than the much kinder Dawn and Jordan.

The little bug sat on his head, spouting off about her delayed Shakespeare performance due to their outing the night before, while he focused on preparing the meal.

"…Then I'll be brief, o happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rest and let me die," Niffty recited rather beautifully before rolling onto her back with a loud, "blehhh!"

Alastor chuckled. "Oh, how unfortunate it is that we were all robbed of your lovely performance."

"Have you seen Dawn? She can help me set up for tonight!"

"I'm sure she's somewhere around but first: it is time for lunch. Will you be a dear and round up the residents?"

"On it!" She shouted before scurrying out of the kitchen. Alastor called upon his shadow dollies to set up the table and bring out the food.

Sir Pentious was the first to arrive, his eye twitching when he saw the deep fried rattlesnake that sat in the middle of the table. Dawn's sense of humor never did disappoint. Of course that wasn't the only thing on the table, plenty of southern delights for everyone to enjoy, but Alastor did love to see the snake squirm.

Angel and Dawn arrived together, the former's eyes darting back and forth between her and Alastor's left hands.

The employees, Jordan and Husk, arrived together as well. They were making an incredible effort to not make any eye contact. The insinuations of such behavior Alastor didn't care to linger on. What their souls did in their free time was something he never worried about, so long as it didn't impede on their duties.

Finally, the star of the show, Vaggie arrived. Her finger was wrapped and her hair unbrushed. The girl didn't even bother to dress for the day, sporting baggy clothing he assumed she slept in the night before.

She vibrated when she laid eyes on Dawn who was too busy trying to hold Angel's mouth closed to notice.

"Well, good morning Miss Vaggie!" Alastor chirped. "I do hope you are ready to present, we are all sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear about this meeting with Heaven."

Vaggie's jaw feathered. "We'll have a meeting about it later," she growled.

"Hm. Sounds promising!"

The fork in her hand bent in half in her grip. Alastor continued his show of ignorance as everyone began helping themselves to the meal.

Niffty came scurrying into the room climbing back up onto his head. "Charlie won't come down! She sounds sad sir!"

He picked her up by the back of her dress and set her delicately on the table. "Sad? Why that can't be! She should be down here celebrating! What ever would she be sad about?"

"She wouldn't tell me," the little bug pouted.

Vaggie stabbed her fork into the table, holding eye contact with Dawn, before storming out of the room.

Dawn stared down at the table, a conflicted look in her eye. A conversation for later.

"Soooo… we all agree that meetin' went to shit right?" Angel broke the awkward silence.

"Oh, you think?" Husk answered. "Vaggie was looking like she wanted blood."

"It couldn't have been that bad… right?" Jordan piped up.

Husk's expression softened. "I guess we'll just have to wait for Vaggie's meeting."

"I do believe we ssshould prepare for the worst outcome, ensssure that we keep our fortressss protected," Pentious' voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

The residents fell into conversation, Dawn continuing in her silence. Alastor pressed his foot into hers, breaking the spell she was in.

"I should fix this," she whispered.

He willed the radio across the room to play some jazz, the voices of everyone else adding to drown out him and Dawn's conversation. "Fix what?"

"Vaggie and Charlie. I took it too far."

"Nonsense. You did exactly what was needed, chérie. Don't forget what she's done, her and her kind."

Dawn stilled at that. Her brows furrowed as her shoulders slumped.

She sighed. "Will you help me? Please?"

He risked his hand to her knee. Luckily, his arms were long enough to look as though just resting on his lap should anyone but Angel look over at them. "What would you have me do?"

"Don't tell Charlie how they can be killed, just that they can and that Carmilla knows how. Let Vaggie be the one to find out."

She must be joking. She wanted to give Vaggie half the credit? "That would do us no good. We need to be the only ones that Charlie can trust completely."

"Vaggie said the angels are comin' here first. We could get Charlie the manpower."

"Where?"

"Rosie," she answered meekly. "She's got a whole town wrapped around her finger."

That would be asking for far more than he should from his friend. He's not entirely certain that The Cannibal Overlord would be willing to risk her souls like that.

Alastor gritted his teeth. He had to try. If worst came to worst, he would find his own army for her.

Damn her conscience. "Fine."

Dawn excused herself from the table, her tail flicking around agitated as she walked up the stairs to their room.

He saw Angel look to him in his peripheral but paid it no mind, continuing to wear his mask of being completely free of care.

With lunch finished, everyone excused themselves to their own individual plans for the day while Niffty cleared the table. Straightening his lapels, Alastor walked as casually as he could manage back to his room.

Dawn was lying on the bed facing away from the door, her tail twitching when she heard him come in.

He removed his coat and kicked off his shoes before climbing into the bed with her. He stayed on all fours, his arms caging her in as he brought his head down to kiss her cheek. "Have I upset you, chérie?"

Dawn shook her head. "Not you, hun. I'm fine."

He brought a finger to her chin, gently turning her head to look at him. "Tell me what's wrong."

She sighed. "I’m not like them."

“Like who?”

“My aunts, uncles, cousins, the rest of the white folk in Bandera. I never wanted to be anythin’ like them.”

He disappeared into shadow to appear next to her, his thumb rubbing her cheek. “You’re not. I know that better than anyone, dear.”

“How am I any different? Vaggie…” she paused, “Vaggie isn’t the one that killed my mom.”

“Exorcists were created to kill sinners. It is reasonable to dislike them, especially after what happened to your mother.”

She buried her head into the pillow. “I hate all of this, hun. I just wanna try to enjoy my afterlife. I don’t wanna scheme, I don’t wanna manipulate anymore. I did plenty of that when I was alive. I’m just so tired.”

Alastor's ears drooped to the side. When was the last time Dawn had felt relaxed? He did what he could in Purgatory and in Hell to keep her happy, but there hadn’t been a single day in the past seven years when her life wasn’t at risk. She hadn’t known a day’s rest since Preston had thrown her in that closet - perhaps even before that.

"We will have an eternity to enjoy our afterlives, dear. I don't care what I have to do; I will make it happen."

She gave him a weak smile. "Close your eyes."

He obeyed. The light that consumed them almost blinded him even through his closed eyelids. He was so glad it didn't when he opened his eyes to Dawn's true face.

Alastor rolled onto his back, Dawn rolling over to settle herself over his chest. He held her tight to his body. "Have you tried to contact your sister again?"

"No. I tried yesterday. There wouldn't be much more to see… I'm damn near openin' a portal to Earth and makin' her talk to me. Girl's 'bout to pop, can't run from me now."

“Would that alert Lucifer and Baphomet?”

She groaned. “Probably.”

“Then we won’t be doing that. We will just have to maneuver this blind until she decides to help us. Lucky for you, I’ve been going in blind to every situation for my entire existence! And I’ll have you know, I’ve gotten quite good at it.”

She smiled into his chest. That was all he needed, he needed her calm and happy. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s human company. He wished that they could do this more often, live in such simple domesticity without a care in the world for what lies beyond the door, but they weren’t given choices in the matter. They had work to do.

“What did you say to Angel?”

“That we’re married. That you were worried ‘bout me ‘cause I’m new to The Overlord table and didn’t anyone tryin’ to get to you through me.”

That worked perfectly. They would have to carry that lie through to Charlie should she find out. The sweet little princess would be more than understanding of his concern. It wasn’t entirely untrue, at least in the first few months. He trusted Dawn’s ability to take care of herself, not a soul in Hell could compare. Only an idiot would dare to try to hurt her.

Dawn’s head slowly rubbed against his chest to look up at him. “How’s Charlie doin’?”

Alastor called upon his shadow to appear in the room. Dawn giggled when the shade wrapped around her and rubbed its cheek into hers.

“Hey, Willoughby,” she greeted it softly, “you mind checkin’ on Charlie for me?”

After a deep nuzzle into her neck, the shade was off to fulfill her request. Of course, when it was obeying her commands, it was quick to return with news.

Charlie was wrapped up in bed, sobbing and discarding piles of tissues onto the floor. There were feathers covering the surrounding surfaces. The poor princess was too distraught to clean away the residue of his prank.

“She is not taking the news well,” Alastor answered her earlier question.

“Okay. That’s… that’s a good thing,” she reminded herself. “After whatever meetin’ Vaggie holds, she should have stewed enough.”

“What shall we do while we wait, chérie?”

Whatever she was about to answer with was interrupted by frenzied rapping at the door. They both turned towards the sound, confused.

Alastor’s shadow appeared from the other side. “Niffty is looking for you.”

“Then I’d better go, hun.” She laid a hand over his cheek bringing him in for a kiss before dropping their human disguises. “I’ll see you at the meetin’. Love you.”

“I love you too, darling. I’m counting down the minutes.”

She giggled as she stood up, placing her hat on her head, and grabbing his shadow’s hand. They disappeared and Alastor chuckled when he heard Niffty’s excited squeal when Dawn appeared on the other side of the door.

He decided to head to his office. He spent the next few hours twirling his staff, mulling over his plan of attack. Charlie needed his intel, she would find no way around it. There was no one else that could help her and she was currently at her lowest. She was plump for the pickings and Alastor’s confidence was building once more. He would not fail Dawn.

The door opened, revealing Vaggie with barely any light in her eye.

Alastor was leaning back in his chair, legs kicked up on his desk. “Well hello, my dear. I do understand that we are technically colleagues but a knock is only polite.”

Vaggie blinked slowly, hardly a reaction. “Meeting. Lobby.” She said no more before turning around and walking down the hallway, leaving his door wide open. Rude.

It really was too bad that Dawn had a conscience, she was incredibly talented at snuffing out the spirit of her victims.

He played a jaunty tune from his microphone as he made his way down to the lobby. Dawn was seated on the couch with Angel and Niffty. The bug was giggling while holding a roach wearing a small dress, Dawn braiding her hair while holding casual conversation with the spider.

Sir Pentious sat stick straight next to Husk and Jordan who were deep in their own conversation. It seemed that he was the last to arrive. Lovely, he didn’t have to wait for the show to begin.

He took his seat in the wingback chair he favored, crossing his legs and leaning his staff onto the arm of the chair. Vaggie was standing by the fireplace, hands nervously playing with the trim of her skirt.

“Well,” Alastor chirped, “tell us the good news.”

“Cabrón,” Vaggie growled under her breath.

He blinked with feigned ignorance.

Vaggie sighed. “I… I haven’t been completely honest with you guys.”

The room fell silent, the residents waiting for her to elaborate.

Vaggie chewed on her lip while she worked to find the words.

Angel Dust scoffed. “So… you gonna expand on that or…”

Dawn smacked the back of her hand to his chest. “Let the girl talk.”

Vaggie eyed Dawn suspiciously before taking a deep breath. “I… I’m not a sinner, like you guys. I’m from Heaven. I-” her voice softened, “I was exiled here.”

Husk sat forward. “What do you mean you’re from Heaven?”

Vaggie tensed, her expression worrying. “I’m an exorcist,” she nearly whispered.

Sir Pentious coiled around himself, his forked tongue sticking out. “Ssssspy,” he hissed.

“So you’re telling us that this whole fucking time, Charlie’s been dating an exorcist? What is the hotel for?” Husk growled.

“Charlie didn’t know,” she admitted.

“Why were you exiled,” Dawn asked. She knew the answer, Alastor knew that.

Vaggie narrowed her eye at Dawn, looking her up and down confused. “I refused to kill a kid.”

“They exiled you for that shit?” Angel piped up. “Bitches.”

“So… the meeting didn’t go well?” Jordan asked nervously.

Vaggie sighed. “No. No, Adam came and ruined everything. The exorcists will be coming for the hotel in a month.”

The room fell silent again. Everyone’s eyes blanked, the fear that filled the space would have been delicious if it didn't include Dawn's. She had better be right about Dusk's unwillingness to let her fall into holy arms. He did not want to have to hunt down his sister in law, but if Dawn's death was preventable and she did nothing about it, his hands would be tied.

Niffty hopped up from Dawn’s lap to stand on the tips of her toes on the arm of the couch. “So… where are your wings?”

“Niffty, I don’t have-”

Angel Dust shook off the haze he was lost in. “Did you ever think maybe she's sensitive about her lack of wings, just like her lack of tits?” He was again met with a slap to the chest from Dawn.

Niffty pulled at Vaggie’s shirt. “Yeah, where are your tits?”

“Any other questions?” Vaggie ignored Niffty’s abhorrent question.

Husk raised his hand. “I got one. How come every time Charlie talks to Heaven we get in deeper and deeper shit?”

“It’s not her fault,” Vaggie said, “angels are just…”

“Liars,” Angel added.

“... difficult,” Vaggie finished, her brows worried.

Husk rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch. “Yeah, well, her best is turning out real well so far.”

“And where is miss fearless leader anyway? Isn't it about time for another 'doomed-to-fail' plan?” Angel’s comment was met with a terrifying warning glare from Dawn.

Vaggie rubbed at her arm, looking to turn inward on herself. “She's upstairs. Coming up with something, I'm sure, in our room. Alone.”

Dawn gave a subtle glance in Alastor’s direction. It was time.

Alastor took advantage of Vaggie’s sulking to disappear into shadow while she stared at the ground.

He appeared in Charlie’s room. The Princess was still sobbing and curled up in her bedspread. “Oh, Charlie, you look an absolute mess.”

She groaned. “Ugh, go away, Alastor.”

He casually took a seat at the edge of the bed. His nerves were firing, adrenaline filling him to the brim. “Now, now is that any way to act after picking a fight with all of Heaven and dooming everyone you love?”

Charlie sat up, her hands running through her hair and growling her frustration. “I have enough on my mind without hearing your sadistic idea of a joke, asshole.” She dramatically wrapped herself in the covers again, making a point to turn away from him.

A different approach was in order. He sunk into shadow to appear next to her. ”Who’s joking?”

She jumped at his sudden appearance, falling from the bed in a hilarious fashion. He rolled onto his side, cradling his head in his hand with his elbow braced onto the pillow. “You have a captive audience downstairs waiting to hear what kind of inspiring performance you have planned next.”

“Ugh, I can't. How can I face them after failing them all so hard? They came here to be saved and all I gave them was more pain.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I'm just as bad as the cruelest Overlord in Hell. And maybe worse. At least they don’t go around giving false hope.”

How wrong she was. “Well, I never expected to see such a miserable display of self-loathing from you.”

“Oh fuck you, Alastor. All you do is stand there, smiling while you watch us struggle and fail. I don’t know how you can enjoy all of this suffering so much?”

He was so close to having her cornered. She was terrified. Terrified of failure, terrified of losing the ones she loved. A bit of advice could throw her off balance. She always expected the worst from him. Fair enough. Time to change that.

He appeared behind her, his hands wrapping around her shoulders in a friendly manner. He chuckled. “Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what's going on underneath.” He turned her around to grab her by the jaw, using his claws to force a smile onto her face. “A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control.”

“But I'm not.” With his point completely missed, she turned away from him to press her head to the large window leading to the balcony. “I'm the farthest thing from in control. The person I trust most has been lying to me for years. Heaven refuses to listen. Even if they did, I can't prove the hotel works. Adam has an invincible exorcist Army pointed right at my doorstep and there's nothing I can do about any of it!”

Alastor’s smile spread wide, fully encompassing the lower half of his face. This was it. He kept his breathing steady. He would not fail Dawn. He would get his soul from Charlie and he would keep his wife safe.

“I know something you don't know,” he sang. He didn’t allow himself to show too much excitement. She may be cornered but that did not mean she couldn’t sniff out his intentions too early.

She turned to face him. “Huh?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flurry of blue sand appear in the corner of the room. He snuck a glance. It was an hourglass. The sand had almost completely filled the bottom. Vaggie could interrupt soon. He needed this deal sealed.

He walked over to Charlie, turning her body away from the hourglass and throwing a friendly arm over her shoulder. “Those big, scary angels are not quite as indestructible as they seem.”

Alastor walked away from her, being sure to stay in her line of sight and keeping her from turning to see Dawn’s warning.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just that you and your little band of misfits might stand more of a chance than you think.”

“How,” she begged, “I’ll do anything!”

Alastor had to work hard to keep his breathing steady. He only had about a moment to accomplish this task. “Anything?”

Charlie seemed to almost catch her mistake, her confidence shrinking at his reaction.

That wouldn’t do. It was now or never. “Then... let's make a deal.”

The Princess took a step back. “You… you want my soul?”

“Your soul?” He laughed, flicking his wrist dismissively. “Heavens no! All I need from you is one itty-bitty favor." He walked towards her, grabbing her by the shoulders and rubbing his cheek into hers. “What's a favor between friends?”

Charlie pushed herself away from him. “I won’t hurt anyone for you.”

“Who’s asking,” he answered, his voice too high pitched. He needed to keep control. He could not fail Dawn.

The hourglass was nearing its last few bits of sand. How long after the time ran out would Vaggie come bursting through those double doors? He did not want to find out until he had this deal sealed.

“One favor, at a time of my choosing, where you harm no one. In return, I tell you what I know. Do we have a deal?” His hand was extended and nearly trembling. He felt his eye twitch. It was now or never, Charlie.

The Princess sighed, horns sprouting from her forehead. She looked at him with crimson eyes and gave him a nod. “Deal.”

She grabbed his hand and the room exploded with green light. His face contorted to reveal his inner demon’s traits, antlers nearly tearing a hole in the roof. He did it! He really did it!

The green magic, voodoo symbols and energy kept creeping down the walls. With the magic the princess held, the entire hotel may have been experiencing the shock of this deal.

Alastor glanced at the hourglass, the last few bits of sand falling through the thin neck. He turned his attention back to Charlie, her hand still in his, her arm shielding the light coming from this deal.

“Angels can be killed, my dear. Carmilla successfully removed the head of an exorcist in the last extermination.”

Charlie gasped. Alastor kept his eyes on the hourglass and watched as the last speck of sand fell to the bottom.

The doors burst open, revealing a seething Vaggie brandishing her spear.

Alastor laughed. “Right on cue!”

She ran forward, spear pointed for his throat. He could not retaliate. “What did you do?! Let her go!”

Charlie stepped between them. Her more demonic features were shrinking away and she threw her arms out. “Vaggie stop!”

The angel’s posture fell, her spear hitting the ground. “What? No, Charlie, please tell me you didn’t-”

Charlie stood up straighter. “I made a deal with Alastor.”

“Charlie…” Vaggie pleaded.

Alastor was downright giddy. He did it! He could save his wife and return their souls to them. He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Oh calm down. She still owns her soul.”

“He gave me info that can save the hotel, but we're going to need help. The angels can be defeated, and Carmilla is the key.”

“What? Carmilla Carmine?”

“She killed an exorcist in the last extermination. She knows how they can be harmed.”

Alastor watched as Vaggie’s new mortality filled her with dread. The sight was delicious, true fear taking over the angel’s expression. “I… I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“If you did, would you have told me,” Charlie sneered. Alastor had never felt prouder of the sweet little princess.

“Charlie, I-”

Alastor cut in. Dawn’s request to throw the angel a bone was his last errand in this splendid interaction. “Why don’t you go to Ms. Carmine. That is, if you are still on our side of things. Unless you’re too afraid of disappointing your fellow sisters.”

She glared at him, the hatred almost as thick as what she directed towards Dawn. “How are we supposed to defeat them? There’s only seven of us!”

Charlie groaned. “You're right. We’re gonna need numbers.”

“And I know just who can help!” Alastor pinched Charlie’s cheek. “As long as Charlie can be her normal, charming self.”

She rubbed at her cheek when he released it. “What’s that you said about smiles?” she answered shyly.

Ah, so she didn’t completely miss his point. He patted her head. “Good girl.”

He sauntered out of the room. His heart was racing. He had the favor of The Princess, heir to the throne of Hell. He didn’t fail Dawn. She would survive.

Vaggie and Charlie expressed their concerns, Charlie being the one to cut the conversation short. They had work to do.

She met him outside the room, nodding to convey that she was ready.

He had to stop himself from skipping. He could feel the magic in his blood buzzing through his veins. He had never felt such a rush from a deal, it was incredible!

They made their way downstairs. Dawn was doing an amazing job at keeping her expression calm, though Alastor could see right through it. She was just as excited as he was.

“Dawn, my dear, Charlie and I are headed to see an old friend. Would you care to join us?”

She smiled wide and appeared next to Charlie instantly. “I’d never pass up on some girl time.”

Chapter Text

Alastor didn’t give Dawn enough credit for her seemingly endless amount of patience.

Charlie was talking her ear off, spiraling oh so loudly about her predicament with the angel. He could almost be convinced that Dawn was actually sympathetic to The Princess if it weren’t for the twitching at the corners of her mouth. She was too happy with today’s outcome to feel any sort of remorse. Their needs far outweighed the shoddy morality of their dealmaking.

The angel brought it upon herself, as far as Alastor was concerned – they technically had no hand in outing her – and Charlie needed a lesson in blind, indiscriminate trust. How unfortunate it would be if someone were to take advantage of her naïveté. Ha!

“That’s just plain awful, darlin’,” Dawn cooed.

“Why would she lie for so long? Did she think I wouldn't accept her? What about me – me – says un-understanding?” Charlie stumbled over her words, “misunderstanding… dis-under, wait wh-” She stopped walking, head darting around while she took in her surroundings. “Where are we?”

“Cannibal Town!” Alastor chirped, “There’s a friend of ours I think you should meet.”

Charlie gave Dawn a cautious look, Dawn responding with a disarming smile, pushing Charlie along excitedly.

The Princess kept up, smiling as she saw the sights of the beautiful little town. “It’s surprisingly nice here!”

“Ain’t it?” Dawn giggled.

Alastor walked ahead, holding the door to Rosie’s Emporium open for the two ladies to enter. “And it’s all thanks to a very special someone.”

Charlie walked in first, Dawn pausing to give him a cheeky curtsy before following behind. Alastor checked for anyone watching them before lightly smacking her behind as he followed her in.

She chuckled, her tail trailing up his thigh before flicking him in the abdomen in response. He grunted before tapping the back of her hat, forcing it to fall over her face. She growled as she fixed it. He hoped to be hearing about that later.

Rosie was standing behind her counter, gossiping with one of her clients. It took her a moment to notice that newcomers had arrived but when she did, she gasped dramatically. “Dawn!”

Alastor’s ears drooped. Of course she had to say hello to his wife first. He was only her decades long best friend walking in with The Princess of Hell.

Dawn squealed and ran up to the cannibal woman, jumping up to wrap her arms around her. Rosie hugged her while spinning around, giggling as she showered her with excited greetings.

Alastor cleared his throat. Rosie’s head snapped in his direction. “Alastor! How thoughtful of you to come visit,” she groused. “I thought you forgot all about me.”

“Oh, don’t be too hard on him, Rosie. He’s been busy helpin’ The Princess out with the hotel,” Dawn interjected.

“Uh-huh. So have you. Makin’ all the meals for everyone. What does he do besides shout orders and get handsy with you?”

Alastor’s mic screeched. ”Rosie, my dear! May I introdu-”

“Honestly, Alastor,” she interrupted, “Seventy years of friendship and I see your wife more often than you!”

“Wife?” Charlie squawked.

Rosie realized her mistake far too late, laying eyes on the princess that had been there the entire time. The sockets in which her eyes were missing went wide, her hand smacking over her mouth. Lovely. Now she owed him big time.

Charlie’s head swiveled between Alastor and Dawn. “You two are married? Has everyone been lying to me?” Her voice broke.

Dawn ran up to her, arm thrown over her and firm hands holding her shoulders. “Don’t think of it like that, sugar. He was just worried ‘bout me is all. We really wanted to tell y’all and we were gonna but with all the stress you been under we decided to wait a little longer.”

The Princess’ brows knitted, looking at The Phoenix Overlord with a confused expression.

The Overlord gave her a soft smile. “Overlord business is dangerous business. I was new to the whole thing and he didn’t want anyone usin’ me to get to him. You know how protective he is 'bout his girls.”

“His girls?”

“Yeah! You, me, Miss Rosie here. Ain’t a thing he wouldn’t do to protect us. Right honey?”

Alastor smiled wide. Bless this woman. “Why of course! I do apologize for keeping you in the dark, my dear, but, as you know, Dawn’s safety was in question. I simply couldn’t take the risk.”

The Princess gave them a meek smile. “I… I guess I can understand that.”

Rosie gasped. “Are you two finally married? To the public now? Oh, Maribelle is going to be beside herself!”

Both Alastor and Dawn groaned. Maribelle. One of Rosie’s torturous attempts at finding him the girl of his dreams. She ended up being more like the girl of his nightmares. The woman had not ceased in her attempts to reignite a spark that never existed in the first place.

“Who’s Maribelle?”

“Soon to be a name on a tombstone she don’t learn to shut her trap,” Dawn mumbled.

He placed a hand on the small of her back, lightly gripping her waist in warning. They had to play nice in front of The Princess. “Now, darling, that was almost thirty years ago. I’m sure she has all but forgotten about it by now.”

Dawn crossed her arms and shot him an annoyed glare. The woman had been insistent on reminding Dawn of the miserable experience between them. Dawn, being the woman that lived with him, was of course given the warnings of ‘dibs’ Maribelle had supposedly called on him.

“Onto the business at hand,” he quickly switched the subject. “Charlie, I would like to introduce you to Rosie! The most darling, delightful, and dangerous overlord this side of the pentagram!”

Rosie gave a polite curtsy. “Always such a charmer,” she rolled her head to mimic the rolling of eyes.

“And Rosie it is my pleasure to introduce you-” he grabbed Charlie by the shoulders, pushing her in front of him. He gave Rosie a pleading look, hoping that she understood that they needed her to go along with whatever plan they had cooked up. “-Princess Charlie Morningstar! Daughter of Lucifer Morningstar and heir to the throne of Hell.”

Charlie waved nervously. “How do you do?”

“Well, well, if this isn’t a regal surprise!” Rosie snuck a confused glance in Dawn’s direction. She gave her own pleading look accompanied by her hands locking together at her chest, truly begging for her to follow along. Rosie quickly began to play her part, her smile growing wider. “Well come in! Come in!”

She pushed Charlie towards the seating area. Dawn mouthed her a quick ‘thank you’ as they made their way to sit down.

Rosie led The Princess to her display of limbs and organs she usually prepared for guests. “Can I offer you somethin’ to eat? I’m sure I got a leg around here somewhere…” She laughed. “Oh, what am I sayin’? Small thing like you? You’re probably watchin’ your figure! How about some pinky fingers instead?” Rosie held out what looked like a box of chocolates, fingers replacing the slots chocolates would usually be held in.

Charlie and Dawn’s expressions soured. Alastor chuckled before grabbing a finger of his own and took a bite. Holding the finger between his teeth, he smiled at his wife who grimaced at the sight.

“Um… No. No thank you, though,” Charlie said through a false smile.

Rosie put the box away. “Oh, look at you! So polite!” She turned to Alastor. “Alastor! You know you could learn a thing or two.”

He kept his smile in place. He would have to take her insults to the chin for now, desperately needing her cooperation.

“Well, sit down. Sit down. Tell Auntie Rosie what she can do for you.”

Charlie took a seat in the parlor in the red wingback chair across from Rosie. Dawn and Alastor took their place on either side of her, leaning against her chair.

She took a deep breath. “Well, as you know…” Charlie immediately began to panic, “the extermination is coming early. It'll be here in a month, and they're- they're coming for my hotel and my friends first, and I- I- I- I -”

“We need your help,” Dawn finished. “Your cannibals help at least… to fight off the attack.”

Rosie blinked for a moment. “Wow! When you ask a favor, ya don't start small, do ya, Your Highness?” She directed at Alastor.

Charlie’s head fell, defeated. Rosie sighed. “Oh now, don't fret. I didn't say I wouldn't help. But I assume there's more to this plan than a bunch of unarmed cannibals.”

“Oh, your people will be far from helpless when we're done with them. And by the end, they will be able to eat. Their. Fill.” He mouthed her a quick ‘please’ to top off his request.

She narrowed her eyes at him before shrugging casually at the princess. “Well, in that case, sure! Why not?”

“Really?” Charlie squealed.

“What can I say? I like your moxie girl.” She turned to him. “And old Alastor has never done me wrong before,” she gritted out with a smile.

Charlie jumped up to wrap herself around Rosie in a bear hug screaming her thank you’s.

“Of course, Princess.” She finally got Charlie off of her. “Alastor! May I have a word in my office please?”

He gulped, smile strained. “Of course, my dear.”

Alastor leaned down to kiss Dawn on the cheek. She pulled at his arm to bring her lips to his ear. “I’m so sorry, honey. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she whispered.

“That won’t be necessary, chérie. I can handle dear old Rosie,” he whispered back.

She worried her brows before giving him a nod. She turned to the princess, smile in place, and led her towards the knicknack section of the emporium.

Alastor walked into the office at the back of Rosie’s emporium. The door slammed behind them, the bang echoing off of the walls of the small room.

He spun on his heel to face Rosie, only to be met with a hard slap to the cheek. Alright he’d earned that.

“Rosie-”

Another smack, his head jerking all the way to the side. His eye twitched as he turned his head to face her. “I don’t believe Dawn would appreciate this behavior,” he gritted out.

Rosie harumphed. “I’m sure she’d be more than understanding if she was in my shoes.”

She stormed past him towards her desk, taking her seat with a huff. “What am I to you, Alastor?”

He sighed, rubbing at his cheek, before taking his seat across from her. “You are my dearest friend, Rosie.”

“Oh, am I now?” Her brows raised. “Your friendship feels more like a convenience to you than mutual trust and support between us, mister,” she chided. “First, I was Dawn’s babysitter. Don’t get me wrong, I love the girl, but neither of you will tell me where you’ve been or how you met. You don’t come to see me for months and now you expect me to hand over my souls to fight exorcists? Why are my souls disposable and not yours? Hm?”

She was right. She deserved more of an explanation than most. He trusted her, but did he trust anyone enough to possibly put Dawn’s life at risk?

Rosie wouldn’t dare. She had clearly taken quite a liking to his wife. Would she be willing to lay her life on the line for Dawn? “Neither Dawn nor I own enough souls to build an army. Even combined,” he admitted.

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not possible, Alastor. The two of you got more power than I’ve ever seen before.”

“You were with her when she began to collect her own souls, Rosie. You must have suspected something.”

“I assumed that you let her borrow more than a few. You can’t expect me to believe she could freeze a demon in time for six hours with only thirty souls.”

Alastor ground his teeth. He needed Rosie’s understanding, her help. He owed her much more than he could tell her. “I need you to understand that what I am about to tell you does not leave this room.”

She sat forward, her elbows propped on her desk. “It’s really that serious, huh?”

He nodded rigidly.

Rosie sighed and reached across her desk with her palm up. Alastor slowly brought his hand to hers, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles in a soothing motion.

“Then don’t tell me anything. I understand.”

His head shot up, eyes wide. That was it? She would just accept that he was hiding things from her? “I don’t.”

Her easy smile twitched higher for a second. “Of course you don’t. You need to know everything all the time. But I trust you, Alastor. And I know how much Dawn means to you. She means a lot to me too, you know.”

Alastor was speechless. She had been accepting of the minimal information they had been sharing with her, with plenty of complaints of course, but he offered her the information now… and she declined it.

Rosie smirked at his reaction. “I already promised The Princess that I would help but I won’t force any of my cannibals to die for you. It’ll be up to them.”

“I understand,” he nodded. “Thank you, Rosie.”

“Mhm. And there’d better be more than just a buffet of seafood when all of this is over with. I’m expecting you to pay a monthly fee.”

He chuckled. “Of course, my dear. I would expect nothing less.”

When Alastor walked back out of the office, Dawn and Charlie appeared nervous, both for differing reasons but they put on a good smile for the other.

“Al!” Dawn shouted as she ran up to him, grabbing his chin and turning his head side to side. “How bad was it?”

“Nowhere near as bad as either of us were expecting,” he reassured, his hand wrapping around her wrist and delicately bringing her hand away from her inspection. “We are going to owe Rosie for the rest of eternity.”

She giggled. “I got a few ideas.”

“Oh? Well, one of your ideas would be a lovely start.”

“I’m sure those imps would be interested in a little business opportunity with Cannibal Town. The cannibal meat market could benefit from more human options.”

His smile grew wide as he cupped her jaw and kissed her gently. “You are a genius, my little witch.

“This is gonna be so weird for a while,” Charlie said, her expression almost sad.

Rosie clapped her hands together. “Alright, out to the square! We got work to do.”

She grabbed her megaphone from the counter before ushering the group outside.

“Cannibals and Cannibettes, assemble in the square!” she screamed into the megaphone.

The town immediately followed her instructions, grouping up near the gazebo in the middle of town. She turned to Charlie. “Now, darling, you know I would do anything, anything for my clients, but I can't exactly command all of Cannibal Town to follow someone else into battle. Now, don't get me wrong, they love carnage and bloodshed, but to get this group into line, you got to win 'em over.” She lifted the megaphone to her lips again. “Settle in! Settle in! Important meeting!”

Charlie stared at the waiting cannibals, her brows worrying. “But how do I –”

“With sparkle!” Rosie interrupted. “Razzamatazz! And that oh so appealing moxie of yours!”

Alastor and Dawn began to walk the steps of the gazebo, her hand wrapped around his bicep. “Shouldn't be a problem,” Alastor said. “It's not like you've ever failed to inspire before.”

Dawn lightly smacked at his chest. “Quit teasin’ her. She’s nervous,” she hissed.

“But it’s what I do best, chérie,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes as they casually leaned against the railing. Rosie threw an arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “Now, fair warning. This group sticks together. So in order to convince any of them, you'll need to convince all of them. And there's one in particular–”

“Ugh, Susan,” both Dawn and Alastor groaned. Maribelle’s pseudo-aunt. She hadn’t found it within her cold, shriveled, dead, and wretched heart to ‘forgive’ Alastor for turning the woman down an insufferable amount of times. She hadn’t been the kindest to Dawn either; Maribelle’s jealousy carried over into Susan’s ire.

“Susan,” Rosie affirmed. “Who’s a bit of a –”

“Spiteful crow,” Dawn murmured.

“Ornery old bitch,” Alastor sang.

“That,” Rosie finished, “She's tough, but win her over and the rest will be easy as pie. Ready?”

Charlie shrugged mechanically, clearly still nervous. “I guess.”

“Everyone, we have a very special, very royal guest this evening! Please put your bloody hands together for Princess Charlie!”

Charlie put on a good smile, waving to the crowd before being interrupted by a grating – prone to cause ear bleeding – heinous voice ringing out from the crowd. “Boooooo! Bring Rosie back!”

“Susan?” The Princess side-eyed them.

“Susan,” the three of them deadpanned.

Charlie valiantly attempted to continue in her introductions of the hotel, Susan speaking over her rudely the entire time.

He caught Dawn’s self satisfied smirk out of the corner of his eye. Following her line of sight to see what she was smiling at, he saw the raven-haired Maribelle glaring at her.

He pretended not to notice, wrapping his arm around Dawn’s waist and gripping her hip tight. The woman scoffed before storming from the crowd. Lovely, the last thing he wanted to risk was having to live under the same roof as the woman when they brought the army back to the hotel.

Charlie’s patience was visibly thinning, her eye twitching as she continued to fight through Susan’s very loud insults. It didn’t take very long before The Princess broke. “FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH!”

“Ooooookay. We’ll be back after this brief intermission.” Rosie gently led Charlie away from the gazebo and back into her emporium, leaving Dawn and Alastor alone to wait out the conversation.

Dawn leaned her head against his chest. “You ready to be married?”

“Darling, we have been married… for almost a year and a half.”

She turned her head towards the crowd of antsy cannibals, awkwardly chatting amongst themselves while they waited for their leader and Charlie to return. “I mean for everyone to know. Is it a good idea?”

“No,” he answered honestly. “It’s a terrible idea but one we are unable to avoid seeing through. Charlie knows now.”

“We could ask her to stay quiet.”

Alastor had been tired of hiding his affections for some time now. They both knew this day would come, they had just hoped to delay it until at least after the extermination. This terrible idea was mild in comparison to what they were trying to accomplish. If anyone could spin it in their favor, it was them.

He had another terrible idea forming – one that Dawn would not support in the slightest but would be the best way to ensure that Charlie truly believed that they fought for the hotel with intention. He would wait on telling her about that until the drama of their revealed marriage died down. Dawn needed to focus on preparations. She knew how to fight, she was well versed in weaponry, and she was exceedingly cunning. The hotel needed her at her best if they wanted to see the day after the extermination.

“I don’t believe asking Charlie to keep something from Vaggie would be in our best interest right now, chérie.

“You’re right,” she sighed. “What do you think their gabbin’ ‘bout in there?”

“Romance, passion, showmanship. You know they ought to ask me for my opinion on such topics. I am a master at them.”

“Don’t forget humility, Radiohead,” she chuckled.

He smiled softly before pressing his lips to her forehead. “Now. Onto the more prudent topic, how do you suggest we sway these sinners into helping out their Princess. We could kill Susan while no one is looking. I’m certain they would be more agreeable without that hag screaming in their ears.”

“Enticin’,” she answered. “But I don’t think Rosie would love that. These folk like to eat, why not remind them of the limited time offer we got waitin’ at the hotel for them. I’ll even get some recipes together that angel might work for. What do you suggest?”

“Well you know that I’m partial to jambalaya. I prefer one with seafood but I am not against something more avian.”

Her eyelids drooped. “You know I’m avian right?”

“And you are delicious, my dear,” he purred.

Dawn’s cheeks rushed with blood as he brought her knuckles to his lips. He wasn’t referring to her blood but now that thought crossed his mind. What would an angel taste like? Would it be similar to Dawn’s blood or more diluted? He doubted some lesser angel’s essence could possibly be better than hers. What did Adam’s blood taste like?

That thought sent a shiver down his spine. He would have the opportunity to taste an archangel: The First Man, leader of the dreaded exorcist army.

“Well ain’t you buzzin’ like a bee in a buttercup. What’s got you all riled up?” she teased.

“I was just thinking about your cannibal cuisine! Never repeat this in front of Rosie, but not a soul in Hell compares.”

She giggled and rolled her eyes. “You’d owe her a literal arm and a leg if she ever heard you say that.”

Charlie and Rosie’s conversation ended up being fairly short, only gone for a few minutes and The Princess in a much brighter mood than before. Alastor smiled at her before handing over his cane.

She could use it to project her voice to the crowd better and it could be seen as a symbol of trust between them. Alastor found his magic much easier to control with a siphon, rarely did he ever lend it out to anyone. He was powerful with or without it but he stored magic in it for emergencies should his usual supply run out.

The expression on Charlie’s face as she took the cane was exactly the response he was looking for: appreciative puppy dog eyes.

Her gaze flicked between Alastor, Dawn, and Rosie – looking for reassurance. They all gave her an encouraging thumbs up before she took a deep breath and brought his cane to her mouth.

“Have you ever wanted something that was so clear in your mind that you could taste it?” Charlie pondered out loud. Weary looks from the crowd greeted her.

“You mean like human flesh?” the old bat screeched out.

Dawn and Alastor shot each other a side-eyed glance. They hated that the woman was what stood between them and their literal life or death goals.

“Uh… sort of?” Charlie answered her. “Have you ever felt like you’re willing to die to save the people of your city,” she continued.

“By die, do you mean use my teeth to rip flesh apart?”

They needed her cooperation. They needed her cooperation. They needed her cooperation...

“That’s a start,” Charlie answered her once more. She was doing well enough so far, rolling with the punches. “Right now we need a leader. And it seems to me that destiny has picked me to be that if you’ll permit me.” She took a breath standing straighter. “So who’s with me?”

There was murmuring in the crowd but no further unwelcome comments from the miserable Susan.

Dawn watched everyone’s reaction carefully, her eyes subtly darting around to take everything in.

Alastor did the same. Still some hesitance but no harsh residence. They just needed a push.

“Wouldn’t you like to see more of Hell? Well, join up now if you like travel! A lotta sights to see on route to my hotel and not to mention the camaraderie!” Charlie’s confidence was gaining, the crowd starting to lean in. “You’ll form life-changing friendships with the folks along the way…”

“And feast on all the angels you can eat,” Alastor added.

The cannibal’s heads snapped towards each other, excitement taking over their expressions. They were going along with this! No push back from Susan – The Princess was truly convincing them… with his help of course.

Loud exclamations came from the crowd, all cheering on the idea of feasting on angels. They were ravenous, their appetites whetted, they were enthusiastically joining Charlie’s army.

“You’re doin’ it, sugar!” Dawn was nearly jumping up and down.

Charlie held the mic away from her mouth and leaned towards her. “They’re getting a little violent… is there any way to tone it down?”

“Oh, don’t be put off by their snarlin’, that’s enthusiasm!” Rosie ran up to her, proud hands wrapping around The Princess’ shoulders.

“They just seem a little murdery right now,” Charlie whispered.

Rosie flicked a dismissive wrist. “Don’t worry, that’s their thing. Go! Go! Talk to ‘em!”

Charlie nodded and walked into the crowd, shaking hands and introducing herself formally to her new army.

Dawn walked up to Rosie, rubbing her hand over her arm. “Thank you, Rosie. You got no idea how much your help means to us.”

“You’re practically my sister-in-law, dear. I’ll always do what I can to protect you.” She gave Dawn a gentle peck on the cheek before looking up at Alastor. “I hope you know what you’re doin’, Alastor. This isn’t gonna be fun and games anymore. There are more lives on the line now.”

He smiled wide, placing his hand on the small of Dawn’s back. “Guiding The Princess towards her full potential is the goal. This is a tremendous help Rosie and we know just how to repay you.”

Hands on her hips, she raised a skeptical brow at them. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Let’s hear it.”

“You miss the taste of human meat, Rosie?” Dawn chirped.

Rosie’s jaw fell, astonished. “You found a way to get humans down here?”

Dawn bit her lip and nodded. “I got a business opportunity that I think a lot of Hell’s folk could benefit from. Both sinners and Hellborn. I’ll talk to you more 'bout it next time I see you.”

The Cannibal Overlord’s mouth remained open as she turned to look at Alastor. He smirked and nodded, concurring with Dawn’s promise.

They were shooed off by the excited Rosie to follow nearly the entirety of Cannibal Town back to the hotel. The cannibals really agreed to this! Willingly! This battle would truly be a sight to see, a day to stand out in Hell’s long history. Lucifer would be an idiot to not see Charlie’s potential.

They made it back to the hotel at the same time as Vaggie, boxes upon boxes of Carmine weaponry being carried by Carmine employees in tow. Did the overlord donate all of that steel? The worth of what was being carted into the hotel was beyond what even The Princess’ consort could afford.

Was Charlie actually bringing Hell together? Finding common ground among the damned? Charlie seated on her throne was becoming more and more of a possibility by the day.

Vaggie and Charlie stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, both too nervous to speak first. Vaggie had wings now apparently and they were tightening to her torso the way that Dawn’s did when she was nervous.

“Psst, Charlie,” Dawn whispered.

Charlie whipped around on her heel, Dawn gently tossing her something.

The Princess caught it easily, turning back towards her girlfriend. “I, uh – I got you a gift!” Charlie held up a shrunken head from Rosie’s shop, jingling it around in front of the angel.

Vaggie’s eyes welled with tears. “Oh, Charlie!” Her arms wrapped around The Princess, her quiet sobs being muffled by Charlie’s chest.

“Come on, let's go home,” Charlie cooed, petting her head affectionately.

Alastor began to follow them towards the hotel but was stopped by Dawn’s hand to his chest. He looked down at it, confused, before looking at her.

“I got a surprise for you,” she beamed.

“So late?”

“Technically, I’m early.”

Before he could question her further, knowing she would yield no answers, they dissipated into sand.

When they manifested, they were in the roaring district, a time capsule of the twenties. He hadn’t been there since, well, since before his prison sentence in Purgatory.

The streets were reminiscent of 1920’s New Orleans. The drunkards leaving the clubs only making the illusion that much more convincing. He took a sighing breath, looking around to really appreciate the Greek Revival architecture. All of the iron railings on the outside of the townhouses lining the dark streets had that classic yet intricate lace pattern he missed so dearly.

Jazz played loudly from within the clubs that were kept just around the corner. Mimzy and him created this place once times began to move faster than they could keep up. They were nostalgic, embittered by the lack of style in the new coming of age. This was his territory for a while, he still owned it technically but had practically handed the deed to his dear friend – that was no longer speaking with him at the moment – as his status grew.

“What are we doing here, chérie,” he turned to her, his focus immediately being stolen by what she was wearing in place of her usual cowgirl attire. “-and what are you wearing?”

His eyes went wide. She wore a deep red dress, the back opened so low, her tail was comfortably flicking around behind her as well as her wings. It was reminiscent of the evening gowns women would wear to more sophisticated events in his time on Earth. Of course, it was tailored to Dawn’s body more so than traditionally worn but Alastor wasn’t complaining.

She was ravishing – the black velvet tassels that decorated the dress dazzling in the low lights that kept the streets maneuverable. Her hair was curled up into what resembled the bob that was popular in his time, a headband with a bright red feather displayed prominently above her head. Pearls adorned every bit of jewelry on her person save for the red diamond and glass of his blood that made up her wedding rings.

Dawn smiled wide at his reaction, her lips painted a deep burgundy. “Now, I learned how to do the charleston for this so you’d better appreciate it.”

He laughed. “What is all of this for, darling?”

She held up her wrist, a small clock made of sand appearing where a watch would normally be seated. “It’s your birthday in approximately,” she hummed, “three hours. I wanted to make sure you had as much time to celebrate as you could.”

For the second time that day, Alastor was speechless. She giggled as she grabbed his hand and began running around the corner towards the music. Mimzy’s club was here. He did miss the little flapper – tedious as her friendship could be – she was always his biggest supporter.

He highly doubted that ‘Mimzy’s’ was where they were headed but he was quickly proven wrong, Dawn stopping in front of the VIP entrance.

“Dawn, I don’t believe Mimzy is interested in seeing me at the moment.”

“Oh, hush. I got it all figured out.”

She didn’t leave him any room to argue, turning quickly to speak with the shirtless hellhound that was bouncing the club. She handed him a note that he quickly skimmed before nodding for them to enter. “She’s at her booth waiting for you.”

“Thank you, sir,” she politely answered before turning back to Alastor and grabbing his arm again to drag him inside.

The band was lively, playing an energetic, brassy tune. The floor was full of sinners dressed to the nines and swinging around the dance floor. Most were clearly drunk but even more clearly having fun.

“Dawn!” a familiar voice rang out.

“Mimzy!” Dawn squealed before letting go of Alastor and running up to the little blonde woman.

Alastor was frozen in place as he watched them embrace with a familiarity he wasn’t expecting. What was happening?

“Alastuh! Come here, birthday boy!” The flapper beckoned.

Did all of the women in his life call a group meeting and plan to find new ways to shut him up today?

He cautiously walked up to the deep purple booth that Mimzy was standing in front of, his mouth slightly agape. She was supposed to be angry with him. He kicked her from the hotel before she had even settled into her bar stool.

Dawn lifted her hand to his chin, pushing his jaw closed. “You’re catchin’ flies, hun.”

All he could do was blink while he waited for the punchline. Surely this was all a joke being played on him.

Mimzy and Dawn exchanged a look and broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Why didn’t you tell me you was married, Al? I woulda been more understandin’ of you kickin’ me to the curb if I knew that!”

“I-” he couldn’t form the words, “what?”

Dawn snickered. “I been stopping by Mimzy’s after my visits with Rosie this past week. Explained a few things to her.”

“Why you felt like you couldn’t tell me is steamin’ me but your wife’s a gas so I’ll let it slide this time, sweetheart,” Mimzy warned playfully.

“I don’t understand,” Alastor admitted. “Dawn told you that we were married?”

“Sounds like you understand just fine, hun,” Dawn interjected.

Mimzy raised her dainty wrists and shooed at him. “Well go have fun! Drinks on me tonight but don’t think I let you off so easy.”

Before he could process anything, Dawn was dragging him towards the dance floor. She fixed his friendship. She knew that he was hurt but willing to take the sting for her and solved the problem for him.

He laughed, spinning Dawn around and leading her in a swing dance. When was the last time they had danced together like this? Surely it couldn’t have been that long… could it?

They had been so focused on caring for The Princess and stressing over their status with Baphomet that he was not sure they had found the proper time to dance.

He put his all into their dancing, every song was punctuated by their heaving breaths and strained chuckles. Their hair was sticking to their brow as physical proof of their exertion. Dawn couldn’t have thought of a better birthday celebration for him.

The drinks flowed endlessly, drunken giggles ringing out from within Mimzy’s booth they all sat in as they took a break from the endless dancing.

“I’m goin’ to the powder room. Don’t get too frisky while I’m gone,” Mimzy winked.

Alastor heeded no warning, swinging Dawn’s legs over to drape over his as he brought her in for a kiss. His intention was for burgundy to stain his lips for weeks. He had nothing to hide anymore.

“This is all too much, chérie. You spoil me,” he purred between kisses.

She hummed, “just means you’ll have to make my birthday one we’ll never forget, Radiohead.”

He chuckled. “The show is about to begin. We could go find our seats… or we could be suspiciously missing from the audience.”

“I promised Mimzy we would be there, hun. We’ll go missin’ later.”

Alastor pouted through his smile, Dawn giggling and poking his nose in response.

He dissolved them into shadow, reappearing in front row seats for Mimzy’s nightly showcase. The show was always the bee’s knees. He was honestly excited to be in attendance for it once more. It had been years since he last watched his friend perform. Perhaps he could convince her to allow for one of his performances sometime soon. He did miss a live audience.

The lights shut off dramatically, a spotlight revealing the dazzling Miss Mimzy. “Tonight, we have a special surprise! I would suggest everyone be extra nice and wear your brightest smiles! For one night, and one night only, I bring you…”

Mimzy paused for a profoundly long minute, really allowing for the crowd to simmer in their anticipation. Alastor leaned towards Dawn. “Any guesses as to who she convinced to perform for ‘The Radio Demon’s’ birthday?”

He was met with no answer. His head snapped to the empty chair that his wife was meant to be seated in.

“...Dawn! The Missus Radio Demon herself!”

Alastor’s head snapped to the stage, Dawn grinning her self-satisfied smile while seated at the large black piano in the middle of the stage. How many surprises could a man take in such a short amount of time before his dead heart gave out?

She blew him a kiss before her fingers started working the piano. He immediately recognized the song. It was far past his time on Earth but any demon that dared did shoot him the odd joke about it often enough.

’Hey, hobo man…Hey, Dapper Dan…You've both got your style…But Brother…You're never fully dressed…Without a smile!’

She added a radio filter to her voice to mimic his own, her usual southern accent masked by the transatlantic one that is traditionally associated with the song.

Alastor was bubbling over with adoration. He was the luckiest man in Hell, he was sure of it. No soul compared to her and she was all his. He was all hers.

’Who cares what they're wearing…On Main Street…Or Saville Row…It's what you wear from ear to ear…And not from head to toe…That matters’

Dawn flicked her wrist and blue sand swirled above the piano. Mimzy appeared laying on her side with her own microphone held to her mouth. Dawn allowed for Mimzy to take over the song, jubilantly playing the piano for his friend. He was sure this was some sort of consolation price she paid Mimzy for him upsetting her.

Mimzy had a stage presence, he couldn’t deny it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of his wife. Her smile was brighter than the spotlight that attempted to take his attention from her. She was beautiful and far more than he deserved.

Mimzy dragged the last note longer than was necessary, bringing the song to an official close. He laughed, clapping slowly as the crowd gave them a standing ovation. Flowers were thrown on the stage as Dawn stood to take her bow, stepping back and gesturing to Mimzy while she curtsied low.

A portal made of shadows opened beneath Dawn, she let out a scream as she fell through it before landing in Alastor’s arm with a grunt.

“How on Earth do you keep surprising me like this, chérie?”

She giggled. “Well, we’re in Hell so I can get real creative with it.”

He dipped her low, kissing her deeply, before setting her down gently. “Is this what you learned Bye Bye Blackbird for?”

Dawn nodded excitedly. “Glad that got spoiled. This was better.”

“You’ve been with me for the past twenty four hours, how did you go about the set change?”

She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t with you the entire time. I just sent Jordan to Mimzy’s while you were up makin’ the deal with Charlie.”

“You’re too much, darling,” he snickered.

“You callin’ me too much? Al, I’m flattered.”

With another kiss, they disappeared into shadow. Mimzy’s praise could be sung later. At the moment all he was interested in was showing his wife just how much he appreciated her.

He took her to one of the private rooms on the second story of the decadent club, barely giving her a moment to breathe before laying her down on the pink velvet sofa.

She giggled as he showered her face, neck and collarbone with restless kisses. He took a long while ensuring that she knew exactly how much he appreciated her and everything she did for him.

Surely, the entirety of the club heard them over the music but he didn’t care in the slightest. All he cared for was the woman he couldn’t imagine his afterlife without.

Chapter Text

The month leading up to The Extermination was a sight to behold.

Vaggie was holding lessons – repeating all of the training she was regularly receiving from Carmilla Carmine, Sir Pentious was directing the residents in securing the hotel, Niffty was holding nightly performances for the much larger audience, Charlie attempted to teach non-lethal protection to the bloodthirsty group, Husk was somewhere drinking himself into a coma with Jordan and, of course, Dawn was holding shooting lessons. Angel would often join her in the lessons, thinking that he was being helpful but usually just getting in her way.

Alastor took a break from assisting each of the groups, seated casually in a chair watching his wife at work. She took gun handling very seriously, ensuring that everyone wore protective glasses – even the eyeless cannibals – and forcing everyone to wear ear protection. Including Alastor. She charmed each of the headphones to be soundproof to loud, explosive sounds but everyone could still hear her speaking clearly.

“The hardest part when you’re aimin’ is slowin’ your heartbeat,” she yelled out to her class. “So I want everyone to remember BRASS. Breathe in. Release. Aim. Squeeze. Shoot. I don’t wanna see no jerkin’ hands when that trigger is pulled – squeeze it. You shouldn’t know exactly when the gun's gonna go off.”

She held a semiautomatic pistol out in front of her, stance perfected, and took a deep breath. Halfway through breathing out, she paused. She hardly had to move the gun to aim at the cardboard cutout of an exorcist before her finger covered the trigger. She did exactly as she instructed, squeezing the trigger before shooting the target dead between the eyes.

“Any questions?”

Angel raised a hand. “Yeah. We don’t got time to do all that thinkin’, toots. Just point the gun and start unloadin’.”

“That wasn’t a question, Angel,” she chided.

“Yeah and your method ain’t gonna work. Watch this.” Angel manifested two tommy guns before doing exactly what he described, peppering the cardboard in bullet holes. Once the guns started clicking signifying that they were empty, he gave Dawn a smug grin. “And look at that, the angel's dead as a doornail.”

Dawn didn’t answer, smirking instead, before she held the pistol in front of her. She unloaded her own clip, each bullet hitting somewhere vital on each of the targets.

She gave her own smug grin to Angel. “How many bullets you wastin’ just tryin’ to kill one? Hm?”

The spider demon let out a sharp laugh. “Damn, Feathers, that was kinda hot.”

A tentacle made of shadows emerged from the ground, smacking Angel upside the head. His body jerked forward. “Harder, daddy,” he moaned in Alastor’s direction.

Alastor rolled his eyes and groaned. Why must he turn everything into some obscene sexual act?

“Careful now, Ang. My clip’s empty but I could still pistol whip ya,” Dawn teased.

Angel bit his lip before bending at the waist to bring his face far too close to hers. “Is that a threat or a promise, baby,” he purred.

He yelped when a shadow tendril wrapped around him before roughly placing him on the other side of the shooting range, Dawn giggling the entire time.

The cannibals in attendance let out their own snickers before following Dawn’s instructions. Their aim was nowhere near as precise as Dawn’s but they were visibly improving.

*****

They were one week from The Extermination. Anxiety was high but everyone was putting their all in the preparations.

The original residents of the hotel stood in Charlie’s office, discussing their game plan.

“Okay so most of us will be on the ground, fighting off the first round of exorcists after Alastor covers the hotel with a shield,” Charlie directed. “Are you sure you’ll be able to hold them for long enough, Al? The shield is gonna take a lot of energy.”

Dawn had been stocking her blood for months in anticipation. His power had grown tremendously since their fall; he had all of the confidence in the world that he could take down the exorcist army with an arm tied behind his back if he so pleased.

“It won’t be a problem, my dear. I am more than capable.”

Charlie nodded. “Okay and Dawn and Alastor will take the higher ground, taking out as many exorcists as possible before they reach the rest of us. Cannibals will be shooting from within the hotel and Pentious on the second floor balcony directing the battle. Does this all sound good?”

“It sounds great, babe,” Vaggie reassured with an arm on Charlie’s shoulder.

The make up between the couple went by much smoother than anticipated. It shouldn’t have been surprising, they had been together for years, but Alastor was a bit bitter that the angel was so quickly swept up in Charlie’s good graces.

The only delay in their reconnection was the subject of Dawn and Alastor’s marriage. Understandably, she did not have the best reaction given their favors and dealmaking but Charlie reminded her repeatedly that she trusted them. They gathered an army for her, how could the hotel not be important to them?

“What do we do about Adam?” Dawn spoke up. “He’s gonna be his own problem.”

Charlie worried her brow before glancing at Alastor. Dawn followed her line of sight, her eyes going wide – flicking between black and red. She didn’t even attempt to hide her disapproval.

“That is already taken care of, darling,” Alastor answered. His voice almost wavered in response to her terrifying glare.

“Alone?” She gritted out. Her eyes were now completely black, the blue hourglass that was her iris spinning violently.

The room cleared quickly once Dawn’s body began to smoke. Demon’s eyes went wide and attempted to stay out of her line of sight while they shuffled from the room.

Alastor almost asked for someone to stay. Dawn would never actually hurt him but he may have pushed her past her limits with this plan.

He swallowed hard. “He won’t expect a sinner to have power like mine. I will have the upper hand.”

“Do you have any fuckin’ clue what I would do if I lost you? To an angel? Of all things?”

“Dawn-”

“No. You listen to me, Alastor Broussard! I wouldn’t survive it,” her voice broke, eyes transforming back to their usual red and welling with tears. “I wouldn’t survive it and I wouldn’t want to survive it. Hell wouldn’t survive it.”

His ears pinned straight back once tears began streaming down her face. This plan had to work. With their marriage being outed, he needed to ensure that he was trusted inexplicably. They could not afford any suspicion from Charlie. They still needed to keep her close.

“I am completely capable of handling Adam, chérie,” he kept his voice soft. She had to understand. “Your sister would never allow either of us to fall at the hands of an angel. You’ve said it yourself.”

“I don’t know what she wouldn’t allow at this point! She still ain’t talkin’ to me!” Her lip quivered. “Please don’t do this. I can’t lose you.”

Alastor gently placed his hands over her shoulders. The smoking had ceased, her entire body slumped and leaned into his grasp. “I promise I will retreat if at any point I feel genuinely in danger, dear. This is the best thing for us and your sister would say something if it weren’t.”

She glared at him through freely falling tears before ripping herself from his grasp and stomping out of the room. Fuck.

Dawn hardly spoke to him for the rest of the day, excusing herself from the rooms any time he entered. He had never seen her so upset with him. They had their arguments, sure, but never to this degree.

They hardly ever fought, even in Purgatory. The last time he remembered her being truly upset with him was when he destroyed her rose. He didn’t understand why she would want it once she had him at her beck and call but he learned quickly that was not the point.

She just wanted him to talk to her before making brash decisions. And here he was, making plans that affected the both of them without speaking to her first.

The end of the day came and everyone dispersed to their personal sleeping quarters. Alastor half expected Dawn to sleep in a separate hotel room that night but when he made it to their room, she was in the bathroom doing her nightcare routine that he was sure took much more time than necessary. Dawn deserved the pampering so he said nothing about her routines; he just patiently waited them out.

He didn’t bother her, deciding to snap on his usual sleepwear and sitting in bed with a book, anticipating the new hole she was bound to split in him.

When she exited the bathroom, she was in a blue nightgown, one that almost matched her eye color on Earth. It was just a shade lighter but the effect of it was all the same.

“Chérie-”

She put a hand up, halting his apology as she crawled into bed with him. He sat silently while she gathered her words.

“You’re not fightin’ Adam alone.”

His knee jerk reaction was to tell her no. That there was no way that he would allow her to put herself in danger. He knew it was hypocritical to even think to tell her what she could and couldn’t do but if it were up to him, she would be locked up tight in Cannibal Town with Rosie until The Extermination was over.

She would never allow for that and she would never forgive it.

He bit his tongue.

“I got a hold of Dusk finally.”

Alastor’s ears perked up. Why did she wait so long to say something? Why the last moment? They were six days away from the battle and she waited until the month before to finally give Dawn answers.

“What did she say?”

Dawn sighed. “That she’s gettin’ blocked off. Future’s all fuzzy. She can only see snippets here and there. She’d been holdin’ off on tellin’ me until she had no more time to try and see what would happen.”

“What do you mean by blocked off?”

“Gods aren’t allowed to meddle with The Purgatory Program. It’s a part of the deal they made with Baphomet. The goat wouldn’t hunt us down before steppin’ foot in Hell and our seven year sentence would be as comfortable as he could make it. Chronos is a special case. He didn’t need to talk to us directly to meddle. I’m assumin’ he made some sort of deal with Baphomet and agreed to blockin’ our visions from seeing any of his plottin’. We get our schemin’ from somewhere, you know.”

“Chronos wants us to be free?”

“All of the gods want their kids to be free. It’s why they stopped havin’ kids.”

“What does this mean?” How were they meant to go forward with their plans if there was no outcome to see? He had been so spoiled by The Miller Sisters and their visions for the past seven years that he was almost beginning to not know how to plan without their assistance.

“It means we’re on the right track.”

He took in a sharp breath. “And it means that you have decided that you will be with me for my battle with Adam.”

Dawn nodded. “I made the decision before tryin’ to contact her again. My decision affects the future and the right track includes not leavin’ you alone to deal with him.”

His knuckles blanched as talons dug into his palm. He was left with no choice in this. Their plan had to work and now that plan included Dawn putting herself at risk to ensure that he survived.

There was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise, he knew this, and there was no way that he could tell her no. She would not accept it.

*****

The evening before the battle, Charlie gathered her army in front of the hotel.

She tapped on her mic. “I want to thank everyone for coming. Even people who aren't staying here yet...Cherri.”

The one eyed demon shrugged. “Look, I can't resist a fight, okay? Especially when I get to tag team with this fuckhead.” She wrapped her arm around Angel who laughed along with her.

“Tomorrow, the Exorcist Angels will face a Hell ready to defend itself and win!” Charlie continued.

“Yeah! Yeah, we will! Tell 'em, baby!” Vaggie cheered.

“Yes! And we are- we are going to win!” Charlie’s confident stance fell slightly. “But in case we don't, I want you all to know... that getting to know you has been the biggest honor of my life. Whatever redemption really means, I know you all tried. I have seen the good in all of you. And it's... I- I'm just…” She began to tear up. “I love you all, so much, and- and live tonight however you want because-”

“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!” Niffty finished, topping off her exclamation with a maniacal laugh.

Dawn leaned her head on Alastor’s chest, her hand wrapped tight around his bicep. “I’m gonna go drink some with Angel. I’ll catch up with you later, hun. That alright?”

His hand cupped her jaw, bringing her head up to face him. “As The Princess has decreed: We are to live tonight however we want. Have some fun with your friend. I will be upstairs waiting for you.”

She smiled before he leaned down to kiss her softly. She ran off with Angel and Cherri Bomb, giggling as the spider grabbed her hand and led her towards the bar inside.

Alastor dissolved into shadow, appearing on the second story balcony. He was content just watching her. She was smiling, cheersing with the residents, even pulling a smile from the usually grumpy old cat.

Dawn was talented in keeping the spirits high, telling the odd joke, playing drinking games that she either made up completely or Alastor had never heard of. She was exactly what the hotel needed tonight – what he needed for eternity.

Niffty climbed up the railing, seating herself next to Alastor and kicking her feet.

He sighed, placing his head in his hand. His time at the hotel had been somewhat fun thus far. He was almost beginning to actually like some of the residents. He was sure Dawn’s friendliness must have been wearing off on him.

“Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh, Niffty?”

“I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!” she buzzed.

He chuckled. “Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed.”

Niffty climbed up his torso and seated herself between his antlers. She manifested a crown made of branches and dead roaches and dropped it on his head. “I dub thee, King Roach.”

Alastor laughed. She was such an odd little bug but he had to admit that he had more than just a small soft spot for her. “Oh, to understand your twisted little mind!”

The two of them fell into a fit of laughter, almost trying to outdo each other in just how unhinged their laughs became.

Dawn giggled from behind him. He spun on his heel, Niffty climbing back down to the railing.

“Should I start referrin’ to you as Your Highness now?”

Niffty hopped onto the floor and scurried up to Dawn, climbing up her body and placing her own roach crown over her hat. Hers was made of black roses and bluebonnets. The latter was her favorite – her reminder of home.

“And I dub thee, Queen Roach!”

The little bug giggled as she scurried back downstairs, likely bearing more strange gifts for the rest of the hotel.

Alastor chuckled before spinning Dawn into a slowdance. “A crown suits you, you know.”

“You too,” she smiled. “I still think my crown was better though.”

He laughed. Dawn had made him a crown of antlers her sisters collected from her past hunts. They spraypainted it black and Dawn placed it on his head for his last birthday in Purgatory. He swore to return the favor once they knew what form she would take in Hell.

“I still owe you payback for that one, chérie.”

“Lemme guess. You’re gettin’ one made of feathers for me.”

“Oh, come now. Do you really expect me to be so predictable?” She giggled as he dipped her low. “Only the best for the future Queen of Hell. I do expect you to wear it.”

“What makes you think I wanna be Queen of the Damned?” She quipped before he brought her back to standing. “Maybe I wanna overthrow Baphomet and take over Purgatory.”

“Once we are gods, we will rule over whatever realm you please, darling.”

“We still don’t know if I’ll get my soul back, hun. Let’s not get our hopes too high.”

He gripped her waist tight, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned down and kissed her deeply. “If you think I wouldn’t use my favor from Charlie to return both of our souls, you are sorely mistaken.”

She smiled softly. “Let’s get to bed, hun. We gotta rest up for tomorrow.”

His smile grew into an impish grin. She squealed as he quickly picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. “A Queen never walks anywhere, chérie. I suppose you ought to start getting used to the pampering in preparation.”

“If you don’t let me down, Alastor Broussard, I’m grabbin’ your ass!”

“Oh, what a threat, Mrs. Broussard,” he said sarcastically. “No wonder you are the most powerful overlord in Hell. Souls must be begging to sell themselves to you for your mercy.”

They laughed as he marched them to their room. She dissolved into sand before manifesting with her legs wrapped around his waist, grabbing him by the lapels and throwing her entire body back. She knocked him off balance, landing with him on top of her over the bed.

Their lips met within seconds, her hand grabbing a fistful of his hair as they traded wet kisses back and forth.

He shrugged off his jacket as she began to undo his bowtie, lips barely parting from the other’s. The string of her top was untied rapidly, the knot that held the halter top together falling before he realized that she was releasing it.

The fabric framed her body beneath her. Alastor ran his hand over her soft torso, cupping her breast as she began to rip the buttons off of his shirt.

He peppered kisses under her jaw and neck as he unclasped her belt, pulling it from the loops and throwing it behind him. She sighed into his ear as he guided his hand into her pants, hooking his fingers inside.

“I love you, Dawn,” he whispered into her skin. He didn’t say it enough. He needed her to know it before tomorrow.

She whimpered as his fingers worked her. “I love you too, Alastor,” she gasped.

He groaned when she clenched around him. He would be satisfied just knowing that she was. He was sure that their new neighbors were sick of them but he couldn't help himself. They no longer had to hide and he wanted to hear that he pleased her.

His fingers stayed inside of her as she reached for his belt, giving it the same treatment he gave hers. She unclasped his pants and rolled them down his legs. He kicked off his boots before stepping out of his slacks.

He didn’t remove his fingers until he knew that she came again and even then he lingered for a moment until she came down.

Her boots were thrown off, Alastor rolling her pants down her legs before climbing on top of her.

Dawn paused, her expression falling serious. “Promise me this isn’t the last time.”

“Would you like to shake on it, chérie?”

He offered a hand. He was confident and if he failed her he deserved to feel the violation of a deal. His bones should be so far broken that they were irreparable should he fail her.

She stared at this hand, her jaw feathering. “No.” Her eyes locked on his. “I don’t want demons and deals. I want a man and his word that I‘ll be with you this time tomorrow.”

Alastor blinked at her for a moment. She was so terrified. There was no reason to be.

He brought his forehead to hers, ensuring that she saw that he meant it. “I swear on my mothers grave that this is not the last time. I swear that there will never be a last time because I will not fail you.”

Dawn searched his eyes for reassurance. Her heart was racing but after a moment she nodded, satisfied with his answer, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and bringing him down for a kiss.

Alastor could take or leave finding his own pleasure on this night. All he wanted was to be as close to her as possible. He was a man of his word and he did not have any plans to break any of the promises that he made to Dawn but that did not mean that he didn’t want to spend the night ensuring that she felt cared for. He would keep her up all night just to memorize every curve, every texture, every feeling that she gave him if it were not in their best interest to rest.

*****

It was an hour until The Exorcists descended upon the hotel. Dawn was kneeling on the ground, more guns than Alastor had ever seen at one time laid out in front of her. She was mumbling to herself, counting all of the bullets as she loaded them into each gun. There was even a crossbow in the mix, arrows neatly placed next to it.

“A bit overboard, don’t you think?” Alastor chuckled.

She held up a finger, finishing off her counting and pulling the lever on the last rifle she loaded. “Can never be too prepared, hun.”

Dawn snapped, all of the weapons disappearing and being held safely in the ether, before standing up and facing him. “The second that shield is down, I’ll be on the roof. You do not get his attention until I am standin’ next to you, do you understand?”

She decided against the hat for the battle, tying her hair up into a braid for maximum efficiency. He tucked a fly away behind her ear. “I will do nothing without you today. I swear it.”

She took a deep breath before shoving her head into his chest. “If at any point you think you could be in danger, you will run. Am I clear?”

He petted her hair before kissing the top of her head. Alastor didn’t run from danger. He didn’t believe in it but anything Dawn says goes. He knew that. “Clear as a bell, chérie.”

“Okay. We’d better get in place. Angels’ll be here in an hour.”

Alastor made sure to inhale her scent before their embrace ended. Even when preparing for battle, Dawn wore her perfume and he was so thankful for it. “I will see you soon, darling.” One more kiss and they both dissolved into their respective magicks, reappearing in their planned formation.

Alastor took the roof. He would be the first one Adam would see once the barrier was broken. Dawn was on the sixth floor balcony, carefully setting up her hunting rifle.

Once set up, she leaned over the railing to look into the hotel windows below her.

She threw out a thumbs up, every window returning the gesture with pale cannibal hands. The barrels of hundreds of guns were then pointed towards the battle field below.

The rest of the hotel gathered on the ground, all looking towards the sky in anticipation.

The hour in which they waited for the attack to begin went by too quickly. If Alastor wasn’t keeping a careful eye on his pocket watch, he could have been convinced that Dawn had learned to speed up time. She was looking forward to getting this over with after all.

A golden portal opened in the sky, masked angels sporting their grey armor and chainmail rained from the sky.

“Let the slaughter begin,” he laughed to himself as he surrounded the hotel in black, runes covering the outside of his shield. The first batch of exorcists made it through, but that was to be expected.

Alastor quickly disarmed them with his shadow tendrils, using the weapons to attack the angels trying to get through the barrier.

Gunshots rang out, echoing from within his shield. He dared a glance down at his wife. Her gun went off once a second, every shot followed by an angel falling from the sky. When the first gun ran out of bullets, she was quick to dissolve it into sand and replace it with another.

On the battlefield, Husk was throwing his playing cards, Vaggie spearing any angel that dared to get close to her or The Princess, Jordan was shooting into the air with a gun that Dawn had equipped him with, and the snake shouting his commands. Angel and Cherri were having their own fun, the spider laughing as he unloaded his tommy guns, not at all following Dawn’s advice, and the cyclops giggling as she threw bombs loaded with angelic shrapnel into the faces of exorcists.

The angels scrambled, realizing all too late that not only was the hotel armed with weapons that could kill them, but they were trapped in here with them.

Alastor looked back towards the sky. Adam, with his long white robe prominently showing the first letter of his name, was screaming at the exorcist next to him while gesturing wildly at the shield.

Any second now.

Adam’s patience ran out. He reeled back and punched the shield. It cracked under his knuckle before shattering completely.

This outcome was expected but Alastor couldn’t help but feel disappointed in how little difficulty the Archangel had in destroying his shield.

In the blink of an eye, Dawn was next to him. There was smoke where shards of the shield fell in front of them. They didn’t allow themselves to be startled by it. Adam was flying directly for them.

Dawn had a close range rifle in her hands. She roughly pulled the lever action at the bottom, a shell from the previous shot flying out the side.

No words were exchanged, just one look at the other and then a nod. The smoke cleared and the angel was hovering in the air in front of them, a smug smile in place.

“Adam!” Alastor shouted. “First man, next to die.”

Adam’s head dropped to the side. “And who the fuck are you?”

Alastor bowed dramatically. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure.” He twirled his mic in the air before stamping it into the ground, shadow tendrils surrounding him. “I’m about to end your fucking life.

The Archangel scoffed. Alastor allowed him his confidence; he had no idea exactly who he was dealing with but he would soon learn.

Adam turned to Dawn, his head moving as he looked at her from head to toe. “And who’s tits here?”

A shot rang out. “Woah!” Adam dodged out of the way. “Missed me bitch!”

Dawn chuckled as she pulled the lever again, releasing another shell. “If I wanted a bullet in you, there’d be a bullet in you. Name’s Dawn. The pleasure’s all yours, jackass.”

"Someone's on her period.”

Another shot she allowed him to dodge.

“Alright, I’m fucking done with this.” Adam swung an axe that resembled a guitar, both Dawn and Alastor stepping to the side to dodge it. She winked before dissolving into sand.

Adam shot his head in the direction that she disappeared from. Alastor didn’t allow him time to ponder where Dawn went, immediately shooting shadow tendrils in his direction.

He laughed as he watched the angel swing frantically at the shadows.

“You really think you can take me on?” Adam screamed as he continued to fight off Alastor’s magic. “A mortal soul is no match for me, edgelord.”

Alastor inspected his claws. “You should know better than anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate.”

Dawn appeared behind the angel, swinging her lasso around him before pulling at the rope and chucking the angel into the ‘Hazbin Hotel’ sign at the edge of the roof.

Adam grunted when his back hit the wall. “Oh you think you’re tough shit, huh?”

Dawn giggled. “Tougher than you!”

“That’s it! No bitch is gonna beat me!”

Adam flew towards Dawn. Her gaze darkened as her smile widened. “Sure about that, sweetheart?”

Just before he reached Dawn, she snapped, freezing Adam in place.

She hummed, pouting her disappointment. “Kinda expected this to be more difficult.”

Alastor let out a sharp laugh. “And you were worried that he would hurt me.”

“Alright, hurry up and test your theory. I don’t know how long I can hold an Archangel.”

Alastor practically skipped towards the frozen Adam. His hand was glowing green, the light solidifying and reaching for the angel.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an exorcist headed straight for Dawn. The light shifted away from Adam and darted over Dawn’s shoulder to swallow the intruder instead.

Dawn jumped out of the way to avoid being hit by his magic.

He aimed before firing. It would have missed her had she stood in place.

Adam shook off Dawn’s spell, blinking rapidly into the present moment. Both Alastor and Dawn froze watching the angel come back to.

Fuck.

“Holy shit! Were those time powers?” Adam whipped around to face Dawn. “You’re Chronos’ brat, aren’t you? The fuck are you doing hanging out with The Princess? You’re supposed to be dead!”

Her mouth fell open and eyes nearly bulged from her head. Adam laughed at her shocked expression. “I’ll tell B-Dawg you said hi.”

Neither of them had time to react before Adam was pointing a finger at Dawn, golden light shooting from it.

One second she was there.

The next, she wasn’t.

“DAWN,” Alastor roared.

She was gone. The Holy light had consumed her and she was just. Gone.

No. No that couldn’t be. She couldn’t be just gone. Over such a small mistake. Over a slight deviation. He startled her. That was all. She could not be dead because of this, he wouldn’t accept it.

Adam clapped his hands together as though he was wiping dust from them, a job well done. Alastor’s features shifted, his body contorting in preparation for immediate retaliation. He hadn’t fully processed what just happened before he lunged for the angel.

“No you don’t!” Adam laughed before swinging his axe down.

Alastor instinctively threw his cane in front of him to block the attack. The angel was not getting away. Alastor was taking the fucking angel down with him.

His staff was split down the middle. He stared at it. “Fuck!” It held extra magic, extra magic he needed.

His head shot up, not fast enough. The axe was coming down again. He didn’t realize what happened until he was flying back, his body slamming into the wall. Alastor landed face first on the ground, his torso felt like a thousand suns were burning through it, blood dripping rapidly onto the concrete.

Adam landed, casually leaning on the handle of his axe. His smile was smug as he stood and watched Alastor struggle to get up.

Dawn had told him once where sinner’s souls go when they were erased. It was Nowhere. There was endless nothingness. Demons went insane when sent there, even just temporarily.

Would he go somewhere different? Did she? Would he see Dawn again? Tears trickled down his cheek. Dawn.

Dawn was nowhere.

His lip trembled. He failed her. He fucking failed her. Alastor let out a gut wrenching scream, it echoed all around him. The sound bounced back in his face, directed at him.

“Awww,” Adam cooed. “Was that your girlfriend?”

Alastor grit his teeth and glared at him. He could hardly feel his body now. Rage boiled in his blood. He had worked so hard, sacrificed so much just to keep her and she was just nowhere.

Adam laughed as more tears dripped down Alastor’s face. “You want me to put you out of your misery, bitch?”

Alastor’s head hung low, the trembling ceased. He didn’t have it in him to fight back. He couldn’t even move his body. Dawn was Nowhere and it was his fault. He failed her. He broke every promise he had made to her.

Arms appeared out of the blue. Literally. There was a flurry of blue sand reaching for him. Dawn wrapped around him before dissolving the both of them into sand.

Dawn miscalculated their landing, sending them crashing through the ceiling of his radio tower.

She cushioned their fall with her body. Bones snapped loudly and she let out an ear piercing scream.

“Dawn,” Alastor choked out.

Dawn grunted as she sat him against the wall. The braid had fallen, hair coated in dark red blood framed her face. Her cheeks and arms were freshly cut from their landing, ichor leaking too quickly from the wounds. Fiery wings were bent the wrong way, the joints sticking out of skin.

He tried to reach for her but he was hardly able to move. “You’re alive.” More tears ran down his cheeks. “H-how?”

Her eyes glistened with her own tears ready to spill. She looked so horrified by the wound left on him. It couldn’t have been that bad could it? “Alastor. Y-you need to heal.”

“How are you alive?”

She finally looked up at him. “I turn into sand on a whim. He only nicked my head. Alastor you need to heal. NOW!”

He finally looked down. Blood was gushing from his torso. The wound was deep. He could see a glimpse of his own guts through the long slit. “Oh.”

Dawn’s entire body was shaking, her hands were covered in blood. Was it his or hers? He couldn’t tell, there was so much of both already.

She started screaming, crying out for him. Alastor began to sway. Consciousness fought with rest, leaving Alastor halfway to both.

“I will be fine, chérie. I am no mere sinner,” he slurred. “I just need some rest.” He lazily brought a hand to his wound, swiping his finger over the blood and beginning to draw a rune.

She grabbed his wrist roughly. “No! No you can’t use your magic right now! It’ll take too much energy. You need to heal, Alastor. Please!” she begged between choking sobs.

Alastor’s head dropped to his shoulder as he stared at her curiously. “Your tears.”

“My- my what?”

“Your tears.” He remembered her first day in Hell. The tears of a phoenix were healing. “Your tears can heal,” he barely got out. He was not drinking from her. Not in this state. Even with the most impressive handle on his bloodlust, his body would not allow for him to let her go.

He could feel it as he watched the blood leak from the cuts covering her. Every fiber of his soul was screaming for him to lunge at her, to drink from her and heal.

He would not.

Dawn stared at him, pure bewilderment taking over her expression. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Alastor blinked slowly. “My thumb. You healed it.”

Her eyes narrowed, the confusion quickly dissipating when she followed along with what he was referencing. “Oh, Alastor.” She slumped. “I was makin’ a joke. The blood in my tears was what healed you.”

Right. He came to that conclusion before he knew who she was. That first day was such a jumbled mess in his mind, he could still hardly make any sense of it. “Then drip blood on the wound. I’m not drinking from you.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin' me?!” She screamed. “Alastor! You’re dyin'! I need you to drink!”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Temporarily!”

“No,” he growled. He would not do it.

She started to cry harder. She was begging him and he was denying her. He could hardly make out what she was saying but he watched her frantically speak to him. Was this the last he would see of her? Distressed? Crying? He didn’t want that.

She was so muffled, he eventually stopped trying to understand her. It was taking too much of his energy and he needed it if he had any chance of survival.

His head dropped as he ran his finger over his blood again. He would at least try to survive but he would not kill her. He would do anything but that.

He drew the rune against his better judgment. It glowed its usual green but the wound wasn’t closing. His magic wasn’t fast enough. The angelic steel was eating away at him faster than he could heal it.

Dawn was right. Using his magic was a terrible idea. The rune was glowing too bright, desperately trying to work against the angelic wound.

He lost consciousness.

When he regained it, he was met with the blurry outline of a woman.

Her eyes looked as though they were glowing green, her hair a dark auburn. He knew these features. He didn’t need to see the woman clearly to know who was currently trying to patch him up after one of his stepfather’s beatings.

“Mama,” he grumbled. She always fussed over him too much. He was fine. He didn’t even feel the pain.

Alastor heard her sniffle. “What?” she choked out. “Honey, it’s- it’s dawn.”

“Dawn?”

“Yes, hun. Dawn,” she answered softly, her voice wavering.

“Already?” He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. How long had she been trying to patch him up? “Sorry for keepin’ you up so late, mama. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep.”

“What? No I-” he heard her cry harder but could still hardly make her out. “Oh my god,” she sobbed.

Mama never used the lord’s name in vain. How bad did James get him this time? He couldn't feel it. He just felt cold.

Her eyes looked so red. Why was she crying so much? All he needed was some rest, he was sure of it.

His eyelids felt so heavy. “Get some sleep, mama. I’ll be fine,” he mumbled as he began to drift off. Blackness started to take over his vision, he couldn’t stop it.

“Alastor! ALASTOR! Don’t leave me! Please!”

“‘M’not,” was all he could get out before he completely blacked out.

There was only darkness, black empty space around him. He didn’t recognize where he was, he didn’t know his own name, he knew nothing but nothingness.

Alastor spun on his heel. Off in the distance, he saw the silhouette of a woman dancing, her skirt twirling as she spun and he could hear the quiet notes of a piano playing. He had heard this song before, but the name escaped him.

He felt oddly drawn to the woman. All he knew now was that he needed to be near her. His feet carried him towards the woman without another thought, no hesitation in his steps.

As he got closer, she became clearer. Long copper hair draped down her back and the simple white sundress she wore sent a shiver of warmth through his body. He heard her giggle and, suddenly, he was running.

The woman stopped her dancing when she heard his frantic footsteps. She turned to him, her eyes the most beautiful blue he had ever seen. When she saw him running towards her, her smile brightened as she ran to meet him halfway.

His hands cupped her face. He didn’t know what he expected to see but the warm brown color of his skin confused him for only a moment.

“Dawn,” he breathed. The name was the only thing he knew, the only word he could utter.

Dawn didn’t answer, not with words. Her sun kissed skin blushed for him as she somehow smiled even wider.

Alastor heard a distant sob and a loud crack followed by a blood curdling scream but he could see no pain in Dawn’s expression.

He smiled and bowed as he offered her a hand, spinning her immediately into a dance.

She followed along exactly as he expected. Perfect. Just like her. Perfect. The piano kept playing, a buzzing sound beginning to surround them.

The music stuttered. There was a brief moment when the illusion broke. This was not real. Dawn was not dancing with him in her wedding dress.

He paused, brows knitted. Then what was happening? Where was he?

Dawn gripped the back of his neck, her disarming smile bringing him back into the moment. He was safe here. He was with her.

But something was wrong.

Her grip tightened and she began to pull him down to her. He tried to resist but her strength far outmatched his.

He heard her say “I’m sorry” with lips unmoving. There was no time to react before she brought him in for a kiss.

And then Alastor tasted wine.

Not just any wine. A wine brewed and corked by Dionysus himself. He moaned as the magic liquid coated his tongue, digging his claws into the bottle that whimpered into his ear.

He growled at it in warning. He did not want to have to hurt the bottle – it is what held this gift for him – but he would not stand for any interruptions.

He continued to chug the wine, mourning every drop that dribbled down his chin. He could hardly fathom the taste. He wondered if there was anything that tasted so sweet. The bottle cried and writhed in his grasp. He dug his claws deeper, enraged by the wasted wine that was now dripping down his hands. The bottle would pay for this loss.

It sounded like a kicked puppy when he sunk his teeth into it. He growled again when the bottle dug its claws into his shoulders. He was feeling generous. It had one more chance to behave.

The glass of the bottle cracked as his grip on it tightened. It screamed, piercing his eardrum.

Alastor was growing tired of the bottle and its resistance. He released his teeth for only a second, before biting through the neck violently, glass shattering easily under his jaw.

The bottle gasped and choked, the body of it stiffening, before finally going limp, leaving Alastor in peace to enjoy his drink. He hummed, bliss taking him over, as he drained every last drop from the broken and battered bottle.

Chapter Text

The only sound Alastor heard was the gnashing of his teeth biting into the soft neck of the bottle. The wine had run out, but he was desperate for more of a taste.

Wet snapping of glass was ripped from the bottle like flesh from bone. He was slowly able to make out the frantic chitters in his ears.

Something was not right. The bottle’s weight was too heavy, the glass gave way to his sharp edges too easily. He ignored the alarm bells in his subconscious. His chest was burning; this was the only way to stop it. He knew it.

The chitters grew in volume, something was gripping his shoulders and shaking him violently. He felt it in his own hands when the grasp on him tightened. The chitters were nearly screams now.

He growled, flicking his ears in hopes that his subconscious would stay quiet for just a few more minutes. He was almost done.

The growl did nothing to dissuade the shadow, its screaming turning into whimpering and the determination of a drowning man just shy of shore was thrown into its shaking. It wanted Alastor to stop. Why would it want him to stop?

Alastor vibrated, irritation erasing the bliss the bottle had given him. He finally released the bottle and whipped his head towards his shadow, his irises turned to radio dials.

“WHAT?” he barked.

The shadow was not looking at him. Its jaw was hanging, chin trembling, as he stared down at what Alastor was holding in his lap.

The blood in Alastor’s veins ran cold. His lungs felt like they had collapsed – he couldn’t breathe. His nightmare, come to life, was lying limp in his arms. Dead weight sat on his lap, and he did not turn to face it. If he saw it, he would have to accept that it was there.

The shadow finally tore its gaze from the horror that Alastor would not dare look at and stared at him. Its face was void – silent and accusatory. Rage, like he had never felt from the thing before, shot through him like a bullet.

Alastor’s eyes locked onto the floor to avoid the penance stare his shadow had directed at him. This could not be real. He was still hallucinating. When he turned to face the weight on his lap, it would be his wife. She would be smiling and laughing, ecstatic that he was alive.

They had Adam to take care of. He knew who she was. “Dawn?” his voice broke.

There was no reply.

“Dawn,” he cleared his throat, “Dawn, please tell me that you are alright.”

More silence.

Icy fingers roughly grabbed his chin, the echo of its vise in his own hands, before forcing his head to the side.

He didn’t close his eyes fast enough. Dawn’s head was hanging grotesquely to the side, a gash that was only a few tendons away from relieving her shoulders of a pate was unnaturally devoid of color.

He retracted his claws from her back, her body falling onto the ground too quickly.

No. No. No. No.

“Dawn?” His voice was so small. All he needed was a mumble, a cough, a fucking breath.

His body shook while tears collected in his wide eyes. He choked on the air around him. His guts threatened to make themselves known. He felt dread. He felt nothing. He felt rage. He felt all too much and all too little. Numbness warred with hysteria as he stared down at his wife.

He killed her.

Alastor slowly brought his hands into view. They were coated in blood, wet and glistening. He looked down. There was still a wound but it was nearly healed. Just a few stitches were needed to stop the bleeding.

The scent of her assaulted him. She was everywhere.

The blood on his skin felt like lead – toxic, heavy. His insides burned as though the fire that had condemned her to him replaced the ichor meant to flow through her veins.

Alastor was wrong. He was so, so wrong. She was not his punishment… his curse.

He was hers.

Dawn was cursed to be loved by men who could only hurt her.

What made him different from the others? Preston? Night? How was he any better than them?

His throat felt raw. Was he screaming?

He fell onto his back, his screaming shifting into choking sobs. He tried to scrape the blood off of him with the palms of his hands. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want it anywhere near him.

The shadow stood and stared down at him, watching him without a glimmer of pity in its glowing turquoise eyes. It was enjoying that Alastor was right where he belonged: writhing in pain and spiralling into a fit of madness.

“Help her,” he rasped between labored breaths. The thing continued to stare at him, not a twitch of a reaction to his command.

“Please!”

His shadow did not move.

Alastor rolled onto his side, forcing himself up on all fours. She needed to be put back together. She would be back. He needed to calm himself if he had any chance of helping her.

He tried to breathe but his lungs refused to cooperate, his weakened arms could hardly hold him up.

What was that trick she taught him? Five things he could see.
He turned his head to face her. Dawn's blood, her soaked and tearstained cheeks, her body bruised and broken, gashes marring her pale skin, her wide, lifeless eyes.

Four things he could feel.
His wedding band nearly slipping from his sodden finger, the blood dripping down his jaw, his clothes wet and clinging to his body, the puddle on the ground that was a cocktail of the both of them.

Three things he could hear.
The footfalls of his shadow walking to stand over her, his erratic breaths, the plangent silence coming from her.

Two things he could smell.
So much blood. Some from him and some from her.

One thing he could taste.
The sweetness of her ichor.

The panic only worsened. He killed her. Violently. Her face was contorted in fear, her body brutalized. Why did she not stop him? Why did she allow him to hurt her?

Why did he take so long to realize?

Alastor crawled next to her, manifesting a glowing green thread and needle. His magic was weak and he needed his own stitching but she came first. She always came first.

With trembling hands, he delicately shifted her head and set it straight over her throat. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

He held his breath as he punctured the needle into her neck, pulling the thread through the piercing, repeating the action on the other side of the gash.

“You’re going to be okay,” he repeated over and over again as he continuously stabbed through her limp skin until her head was sewn back on. He tied the thread tight, checking again and again that it would hold before moving on to the rest of her body.

The ground shook beneath them. He snapped his neck to face the window. Adam had split the hotel in half with his holy light; they were headed straight for the ground.

Alastor whipped around to his shadow that was still glaring at him. “Get her out of here,” he ordered with as steady a voice as he could muster.

The shadow looked at him up and down with its disapproving glare before hoisting Dawn into its arms. It begrudgingly dug its claws into Alastor’s bicep before transporting them.

They appeared in a room he had not seen in years. He was viciously dropped onto the ground before the shadow cradled the lifeless Dawn in its arms and gently laid her down in the bed.

They were in The Roaring District, in a townhouse that Mimzy kept for him should he need to sleep off a restless night. The bedroom with gaudy pink wallpaper and maroon bedspread he could only stand on a drunken night and leave immediately upon waking was now their only safe place.

How horribly did the battle go wrong once Dawn was no longer there to help? How egregiously had he failed her? How doomed was their plan now?

Alastor was hardly given any time to ponder any of this before he was being yanked from the ground by his shadow and shoved towards the bed to continue repairing his wife.

He couldn’t tell if the pain in his chest was grief or the open wound bleeding down his side. All he knew was that it wasn’t enough. He needed it to hurt more – something to match the emptiness inside.

He crawled over Dawn and continued to stitch up her body. When he turned her onto her stomach to examine her back, he almost screamed.

He’d dug his claws so deep into her that her ribs could be seen through the gashes. How much of it did she feel before she passed? Oh god, how scared was she?

The sounds she made while he crushed her, ripped at her, they were playing over and over again in his head.

Alastor froze. He had tortured her, killed her. He punished her when all she did was react to the pain that he was putting her through. She could have retaliated but didn’t. She allowed him to do this. All so that he would live.

A smack to the back of his head knocked him back into his task. Rivulets dripped down his cheeks and onto his neck as he silently continued to stitch her back together.

He moved onto her bones. The worst of the damage was on her wings and hand. He popped the hollowed bones of her wings back into place, wrapping them in green bandages.

The fingers on her right hand were bent in all the wrong ways. Did he do that? Or was that from their fall? How much ungodly pain was she in? He ground his teeth as he snapped each digit straight, before wrapping the hand as well.

Alastor brought a trembling hand to her scalp. There was so much dried blood and knotted hair that it took him longer than expected to find the wound Adam had left her with. The wound had a wide, jagged edge – skin and hair scraped away – but it wasn’t deep. She hadn’t lied when she said it was only a nick – the only breath of relief he felt in this awful moment. There was no risk that the wound had taken her life. She would revive.

He wrapped her head with more bandages. That scar would be there forever – a daily reminder of how horribly he had failed her. A reminder of who she had married. It had been a mistake to love him. She should have kept him at arm's length. He could have remembered her, and she wouldn't be in the state she was in.

His shadow shoved him off of the bed. They exchanged sneers before it pointed at his chest. He needed to stitch it quickly or Dawn’s sacrifice would be in vain.

Alastor dragged his feet walking out into the hallway and towards the bathroom. He flicked the lights on and was blinded by more pink and purple decorations. He groaned as he forced his feet to keep carrying him towards the mirror.

He was smiling.

He was fucking smiling. Dawn was dead, stitched back together like some doll and he was smiling.

For the first time since he fell, he considered ripping out the stitches. He didn’t want to smile anymore. This illusion of control was a sick game he was playing with himself. His soul, his emotions, his care, his hate, his fucking love – none of it belonged to him.

He attempted to frown. The stitches pulled the skin of his face down, dragging his lower eyelids and exposing the dark red tissue beneath.

He was still smiling.

The needle appeared in his hand and he stared at it for a long moment. To rip the stitches would be an admittance of defeat. The shame of so publicly revealing his loss of control would destroy him.

Needlepoint was pressed to his cheek. He took one more deep breath before he shoved it through his skin. His scream was contained by gritted teeth as he dug the needle deeper.

The shadow appeared next to him, angrily ripping the needle from his skin and throwing it across the room.

“What are you doing?” Alastor growled.

It stood behind him. Fingers were shoved between his lips and pulled at the corners of his smile.

More tears dripped down his cheeks as the shadow snickered at him. It forced his smile wider, holding Alastor’s head from turning or shaking him off. He was stuck staring at his monstrous, blood coated, yellow grin.

The shadow dissipated before appearing next to the sink, shoving the needle to Alastor’s chest.

He grunted, the pain of the wound sending shockwaves through his body, before wrenching the needle from the thing's hands.

It hissed some angry chitters at him before disappearing again. He felt it when it wrapped itself around Dawn’s cold and stiff body.

Alastor gave into his weakened knees and dropped to the ground, his back meeting the porcelain, clawfooted tub harshly.

He removed his shirt and began to stitch at his chest, not allowing himself to react to each piercing into flesh, until he finally tied the suture closed.

Fur stood on end when he felt the shadow undressing Dawn. He scrambled to his feet and ran into the room she was being kept in.

Alastor slammed through the door; the knob smacked into the wall likely leaving an impressive dent.

The shadow was sat on its heels next to her. Its hands stopped untying her top and reached behind itself, holding up a deep purple nightgown.

He was only changing her. Oh, thank the Heavens.

The thing gave him the equivalent of a scoff in the form of mumbled chitters before returning to its task. Alastor had almost no access to his magic at the moment, the wound on his chest taking its time in healing even when he applied symbols to it.

She deserved the dignity of simply being snapped into new clothes but he couldn't even do that for her.

“Move,” he spat at his shadow as he stomped up to the bed. The thing glared at him but obeyed.

Alastor finished off what his shadow started before he picked her up. “Were you going to allow her to rest in her own blood?” he sneered.

Its gaze darkened and eyes narrowed but it did not retaliate. It simply disappeared.

Alastor was left alone to take care of her body. His jaw feathered as he turned to face her. His shadow had closed her eyes and wiped her tears but he could still see the dread in her features. How long would she be dead? What was going to say to her when she came back?

Her tail hung limp and swung as he walked her to the bathroom. She was gently placed into the tub before Alastor ran the water for her. She liked it just shy of scolding.

He ran his thumb over her cheek and pressed his forehead to hers. Wet, hot tears rained down his face. “I’m so sorry, Dawn,” he whimpered.

Alastor removed the rest of his bloodied clothes, leaving his undershorts on, before climbing into the bath behind her.

They sat in the tub for hours. Alastor trembled the entire time, choking on sobs he couldn’t suppress. Through blinding tears, he forced himself to wash her gently, his fingers shaking as if afraid to cause more harm. By the end, the water ran crimson, fiery feathers drifting across the surface – a cruel parody of rose petals in a lover’s bath.

The blood was no longer a temptation. He now knew what it felt like to give in to it. The sweetness of it was the disarming almond taste of cyanide and he had no desire to poison himself once more.

There was rustling coming from down the hallway, manic giggling echoing throughout the upstairs. He was not in any mood for visitors.

He held Dawn tight to his chest as he released the plug in their tub, the red water swirling down the drain.

There was a small uptick in his magical abilities. He assumed that basting in water filled with her blood for hours must have helped to heal him a bit further; the small gash on his cheek was gone.

Green steam rose from his hands as he grabbed a bright pink towel hanging near the tub. He warmed the towel before using it to dry her down then wrapped her snuggly inside of the thick cotton.

Alastor forced himself to leave her in the tub. Whomever was intruding on his temporary home would not be given the opportunity to see her in such a vulnerable state.

He snapped his dress shirt and slacks on, groaning from the slight overuse of his magic. He would have to be sparing with it from now on. Dawn’s blood would never be ingested by him again. If he could shake himself on it, he would.

He walked down the hall, putting on his casual mask of indifference before pushing the door to his room open.

There was a red blur darting around, focused mostly on the bloodstained sheets. “Niffty, dear. What are you doing here?”

The red blur came to a sudden halt, the one eyed bug bouncing in place. She was covered nearly head to toe in a golden angel’s blood. “Alastor! Willy came to get me. Where’s Dawn?”

His shadow manifested at the edge of the bed, patting Niffty on the head.

“Dawn is not up for visitors at the moment.” He walked further into the room, shutting the door behind him. “What happened?”

Niffty’s head dropped to the side, her eye narrowed and lips pursed as if he just asked her to solve the world’s most difficult mathematical problem.

“What happened to Adam?” Alastor asked more slowly.

She perked up, manic smile back in place. “Oh! He’s dead!” She froze, making dramatic choking sounds, before falling face first onto the bed and lying still.

Alastor’s ears perked up. Adam could not report back to Baphomet that Dawn was not dead… at least not permanently. “How?”

She jumped back to standing, turning towards his shadow and holding her arms up. The shadow smiled softly at her before lifting her up and placing her delicately on its head.

Her finger pointed to the headboard, she giggled, making a ‘pshew!’ sound. “The hotel split in half! Charlie was falling…” she jumped from the top of the shadows head and landed on the soft cushion of the bed. “But then the ultimate bad boy caught her!”

Lucifer.

She rolled back onto her feet, throwing fists at nothing. “Then! He started fighting Adam! He was really getting him good, Alastor!”

“I’m sure,” he gritted out. Lucifer killed the angel? Nothing was going Alastor’s way. He may have destroyed everything he and Dawn had been working towards for the last seven years. In just a day, he had spoiled everything.

Niffty giggled again, dropping to her knees and punching the bed. “He beat him into the ground! HAHAHAHA! But then Charlie jumped in and stopped him!”

Alastor’s eyes widened. She stopped Lucifer. Did that mean that he was still alive? He cared for the bug but she was likely the most unreliable source of information.

He kept his demeanor even. “Where is Adam?”

She shrugged. “Willy came and got me after he died.”

His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did he die, Niffty?”

“Oh! I stabbed him!”

He froze, his brows knitting and eyes almost bugging from his head. “You killed Adam?”

Niffty nodded her head enthusiastically. “Mhm. Charlie told me to stab so I stabbed.”

He blinked slowly, completely baffled. The maid killed the first man. A soul that he owned killed the leader of The Exorcist Army. Perhaps there was still a chance for him and Dawn.

“And Lucifer?”

She blushed, biting at her finger and twirling her hair. “He’s staying in the hotel now. Hehehehe!”

Alastor grit his teeth. Living with Lucifer was absolutely the last thing he and Dawn needed. If at all he became suspicious of them, all he would need to do would be to look at their files and realize that they were at the hotel for more nefarious reasons than he probably already assumed.

He took a breath, relaxing his features. “What is the state of the hotel?”

“Oh! Lucifer’s fixing it!”

His fingers rubbed at his temples before dragging down his face with a groan. “Thank you, Niffty. Continue replacing the sheets and go back to the hotel. Tell no one where we are,” he ordered as he turned to the door.

“Where’s Dawn?”

His body stiffened, the copper knob of the door warping under his grip. “I have already told you that she is not up for visitors, dear.”

Niffty let out a whine like that of a begging puppy. “But I miss her!”

So did he.

“I will tell her that you were here and when she is ready to be seen, you will be the first to know.”

The bug jumped up and down before continuing her task in changing the stained sheets. Alastor dared a glance at his shadow. It gave him a disappointed frown. He was a coward.

He walked back into the bathroom where the still body of Dawn laid wrapped up in the thick towel he had donned her in. He sighed before rolling up his sleeves and picking her up, tucking her head into his throbbing chest.

He sat them on the ground, cradling her and pressing his forehead to hers. With the snap of his fingers, her self care routine appeared on the ground next to him. Alastor nearly lost consciousness from the overuse but he forced himself to steady. She would feel better knowing that he kept up with her while she was gone.

The serums and lotions she favored were delicately rubbed into her cold skin while they waited for Niffty to finish her task in their room.

His ear swiveled towards the bathroom door, listening for any more sounds of the bug but he was met with silence. With a soft kiss to Dawn’s cheek, he lifted her from the ground and brought her back to the bed.

The nightgown his shadow had picked for her was slipped onto her body, Alastor averting his eyes. It felt so wrong to see her in such a state while she was Nowhere, suffering. No part of him wanted to touch her in that way – but the gesture was one of basic respect and decency.

Once she was properly dressed, he finally stopped and stared at her. Dawn was dead.

His chest burned, hardly any of the pain coming from the physical wound. He was convinced he had cried all the tears his body would allow but somehow there was more.

He wrapped his arms around her, shoving his face into her chest, and soaked the lace of her nightgown in his endless fountain of despair.

*****

Alastor didn’t know when he fell asleep. He’d assumed that he would never sleep again after what he did but somehow he was rousing from his apparent slumber. He was still wrapped around Dawn, his face and cheeks wet from just about every fluid that could come from a face.

There was no heartbeat coming from the soft chest of his wife, her lungs did not inflate beneath him. Would he ever be given the opportunity to feel those things again? Would she hate him when she woke?

Dreadful musings were interrupted by a loud banging at the front door on the first floor. The shadow came from under the door of the bedroom. Husk was at the door. Why in the fuck was Husk at the front door?

Alastor was still in his usual getup sans coat. He wiped his face with the sleeves of his shirt. The part of him that never allowed him to let anyone but Dawn to see him in a disheveled state was weak. Just like him. Fucking weak.

He walked downstairs languidly, the knocking on the door growing louder as he got closer. Alastor swung the door open, revealing a grumpy old cat.

“What are you doing here?” Alastor asked plainly.

Husk’s head hung to the side once he laid eyes on him, a curious glint in his eyes. Had he not heard Alastor when he told him time and time again to quit using his power of reading on him?

“What are you so guilty about? I didn’t think you even felt guilt.”

“Guilty?” Alastor laughed. “I have never felt guilt in my life, Husker.” There was a strain on his aloof facade. He knew Husk could see it but he continued to suppress it.

The cat narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never got such a clear readin’ on you, Al.” Alastor’s eye twitched at the gall on the man to refer to him as anything other than ‘sir’ or ‘boss’. “I’m not even tryin’ to read you. You’re practically screaming it at me.”

Alastor opened his mouth to answer but paused when his shadow appeared next to him, opening the door further and inviting Husk into the townhouse. Alastor stared at the thing, his brows knitted and nose crinkled. Why did he want Husk to come in?

Husk cautiously stepped past Alastor and onto the foyer. “Uh,” he cleared his throat. “Where’s Dawn? Charlie sent me to find you two. Wanted to make sure you guys were alive.”

Alastor’s ear twitched. “She is upstairs.” He didn’t know what possessed him to allow the cat to know where she was. He didn’t want anyone to know what he did to her. Or did he? Did he want someone to see the monster that he was?

Husk gave him a curt nod before making his way upstairs. Alastor listened carefully as he waited for Husk’s reaction to the broken and stitched together Dawn.

After a bout of silence, the door to the bedroom creaked open. There was a gasp, then the sound of gagging and coughing. “WHAT THE FUCK,” the cat yelled out.

Alastor made no twitch of a reaction. His subconscious wanted someone to scream at him. He wanted validation in his self loathing. Husk was the perfect man for the task.

Quick footsteps ran down the hallway and back down the stairs. Husk’s eyes were wide and filled with horror. “What did you do?!”

Alastor forced his smile to widen. “What I do with my wife is none of your concern, Husker. Did you expect anything else from me?”

Husk scrambled for words, his eyes far too inquisitive. “Holy shit! You didn’t mean to.”

“I mean everything I do. I don’t make mistakes,” Alastor growled.

“You didn’t,” he answered firmly. “It’s eating you up. You feel… remorse.”

Alastor let out a sharp laugh. “Do you honestly believe I have ever felt such a thing?” The cat did not answer, his brows furrowing as he watched Alastor. “Do you think I felt remorse when I tricked you into a game of cards when you were left with nothing but your soul to wager? Did I feel remorse when I tore souls apart and swallowed them whole for the fun of it? Did I feel remorse when I ripped at Dawn and shattered her bones almost beyond repair?” His voice broke against his will.

Husk’s shoulders sagged, his expression falling into one of pity. “Uh… you’re crying.”

“I- what?” Alastor quickly wiped at his cheek and, sure enough, they were wet with freshly fallen tears.

A green collar appeared around Husk’s neck in an instant, the chain flying through the rafters on the ceiling and into Alastor’s hand. He yanked the chain down, sending the end of it into the ground. Husk gasped before being hoisted into the air, his legs flailing wildly and wings flapping desperately.

“Do you think there’s good in me? Some soft spot in my cold exterior?” Alastor snarled. “Did Princess Charlotte's naïveté sink its claws into your broken soul?”

Husk clawed at his collar, only answering him with choking gasps.

“I’m just a shattered and misunderstood demon. Inside me, there’s some innocent, cupcake-loving child desperate to love and be loved,” he mocked.

Alastor cackled, the sound bouncing off the walls. “There is nothing inside me that could be considered even remotely innocent. Love is not a feeling I possess. I do wish the lot of you would quit looking for something that doesn’t exist,” he hissed venomously, before dropping Husk to the ground.

Husk wrapped his yellow-clawed hand around his throat as he gasped for air, coughing something awful as he stared up at Alastor. More pity than he had ever seen from another danced in his glare but he didn’t say another word.

Alastor huffed. “Tell Charlie that we are alive and well. Just resting off the exertion of the battle. Tell no one about what you saw in my bedroom. Are we clear?”

The cat nodded with narrowed eyes and flared nostrils. Alastor forced a chuckle. “With words, my good man!”

Husk ground his teeth. “Crystal,” he gritted out with a hoarse voice.

”Lovely. Off you go!”

The cat forced himself from the ground, growling as he stomped past him. Alastor turned on his heel just as Husk opened the door to leave. “Let The Princess know that I will be at the hotel this evening to continue my duties as hotelier.”

Husk stiffened and did not turn to face Alastor as he answered him with a gruff, “yes, sir,” before slamming the door shut behind him.

Sobbing broke out before the sound of the door shutting had even ceased.

He loved. He loved Dawn so deeply that knowing he’d hurt her was killing him.

This was why he never sought out love – why he had convinced himself that he was incapable of it. It was all-consuming and got in the way.

If he didn’t love her, he would have his soul by now. But he was so caught up in also keeping her alive that he had dampened his own priorities for her. And he couldn’t even do that!

He bellowed out some curses, none of the words coming out of his mouth stringing together coherently. Any object unlucky enough to be within a few feet of him was thrown into the wall – glass and wood splinters decorated the entire downstairs.

He was not supposed to love. He wasn’t made for it. How could he be so foolish as to think he, of all people, deserved love?

Love was bliss. Love was comfort. Love was a gift. It was some verboten thing he had burrowed himself into and stolen from someone far more deserving and capable. Of course he destroyed what he loved. He was Death. The only thing he knew was destruction.

His knees failed him and he fell to the ground, glass cutting into his shins and splinters burrowing under his skin. His head hung low as more tears, after all of this crying, somehow found their way down his cheeks.

At some point – he didn’t know when – he dragged himself back upstairs. He changed his pants by hand; he didn’t want to dirty the sheets Dawn was resting in. Then he climbed back into bed with her.

The room was so silent, he felt like he had gone deaf. His arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, and his head lay trembling on her chest. He curled his body around her.

Time didn’t move in this room. It felt as though the sands of time stood still for her.

Perhaps they did.

He was so emotionally drained that he fell asleep once more.

*****

“Oh my god,” a woman gasped.

Alastor opened one eye to see who had once again intruded on his space. His entire body stiffened, eyes flying open, when he saw Rosie standing over the bed with her hand over her mouth.

“Rosie,” he choked out. “What- what are you doing here?”

She took a clumsy step beck, almost falling over her long purple skirt. “What happened to her?” she whispered, her eyes not leaving the body of Dawn.

His mouth opened, then closed. How could he tell Rosie what happened? How could he face her once she knew what he did?

“Alastor… Please tell me you didn’t do this.”

He answered her with a trembling chin. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t bear seeing her face – knowing that he hurt her as well.

She loved Dawn almost as much as he did. Dawn was her sister for all she cared. And Alastor killed her.

“No,” she breathed.

Alastor broke, ears pinned straight back as tears fell. The shame of what he had done slit his dignity’s throat where it stood. He felt the horrified expression on Rosie’s face brand itself into his mind like a searing hot poker.

“I didn’t want to,” he cried. “I didn’t know- I-” words were beyond him. He felt like a child again, having to explain to his mother why he was so careless with something so precious.

Rosie shushed him before collecting herself and walking back up to him and Dawn. “Tell me what happened,” she said slowly.

He took a shaking breath, trying and failing to hold back more tears. “I was injured.”

She looked him up and down. ”You were hurt?”

Alastor could only nod before bringing himself to a seated position. Rosie watched him carefully as he unbuttoned his shirt to show her the wound that had torn him open. “I was dying. I- I refused to heal from her…”

“Refused to heal from her? What do you mean?”

“My blood magic,” he answered while buttoning his shirt back up. “As it turns out, it is fueled by the ingestion of blood. If I am injured, all I need to do is drink and I will be healed. The more potent the magic is in the blood, the more the… reaction I have to it.”

Her jaw feathered as she turned from facing him to staring at Dawn. “And she’s got more magic than anyone’s ever seen.”

Alastor nodded slowly. “I did not want to hurt her… I was unconscious or hallucinating. I’m not entirely sure. I woke up and she was…” he gasped on a sob. “She was gone.”

The silence between them dragged on for what felt like hours. Rosie let out a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She bit her lip to stop her own trembling, bringing her head up higher. “Okay. I’ll take care of her while you’re at the hotel.”

“Rosie. I don’t want to leave her.”

“I know you don’t, sweetheart, but I know how important whatever you and Dawn are tryin’ to do is. The Princess came lookin’ for you when you didn’t show up this evening. Her girlfriend thinks you two got your deal and scrammed. If that’s the plan, tell me now and we’ll figure it out but I got a good feelin’ that it’s not.”

He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, there was just nothing left to do with himself. Why must he continue ruining everything? It seemed as though he was trying to put Dawn’s life more and more at risk with every decision he had been making within the past day? Two days? He didn’t know how long he was asleep.

“No. That was not the plan,” he admitted before he forced himself up from the bed and led Rosie into the bathroom. The tub had a dark red ring around it. He appreciated that Rosie made an attempt to not react but there was still a flicker of horror in her eyes when she saw it.

He grabbed Dawn’s beauty supplies from the ground and set them carefully on the sink. He explained when and how to use each of them. Some were only meant to be used on dry skin, others on wet, and a few were only meant for the morning – or the evening – or just once a week.

She wasn’t looking at the products as he explained; he could feel her gaze on him the entire time.

Rosie placed a gentle hand over his. “Alastor, I sold her these products.”

“Oh,” he sagged. “I suppose you know all of this then.”

“I do.” She brought her finger to his chin to turn his head towards her. “But so do you.”

He furrowed his brow. “Of course I do. I’ve hardly spent a night without her for the past seven years.”

She smiled. “There are men who spend every night with their spouse for decades and couldn't name a single product on the sink they share with their wife. Frank couldn’t tell the difference between a moisturizer and a cleanser before I ate him. We were married for sixty years.”

He wasn’t following. Either she wasn’t making sense, or he was so drained from his wounds and emotions that his mind was only working at half capacity. There was a chance it was both.

She laughed at his confused expression. “You men are all so clueless. You’re a good man, Alastor. She’s lucky to have you.”

He scoffed. “Do you honestly believe that she is lucky, Rosie? Did you not see the state I left her in?”

“If the roles were reversed, would you have done anything different?”

He paused. “It wouldn’t. That’s not how her magic works.”

“I didn’t ask you how her magic works. I asked you what you would have done if the roles were reversed? We both know that she’s more than capable of stopping you if that was what she wanted – especially if you were half dead and unconscious.”

Alastor gave no answer. He knew what it was, but he was not in the mood to hear excuses for what he did. He had to sew his wife’s head back on; forgiveness was not what he sought after.

Rosie’s face softened. “Her choices were either lose you, or die temporarily. I doubt it was a hard decision for her and I doubt it would have been a hard decision for you.”

“Are you suggesting that I should just wave off my own actions? That what I did was justified in some way?” he jeered.

“No,” she answered seriously. “What you did was terrible and you owe her more than you could ever give her.” She sighed seeing his hurt expression. “But neither of you had any choice in the matter. This is unfortunately the best outcome and you will both be able to move forward from this.”

Alastor blinked at her for a moment.

She cupped his cheek before pinching it playfully. “Get yourself together and go back to the hotel. Dawn will be fine here with me and I’ll get you some blood to help with your healing.”

“Rosie, I already owe you so much…”

“This isn’t transactional, mister,” she interrupted. “I’m helping my friend and his wife who also happens to be my friend.”

“How is… your town? After the battle,” he asked nervously.

Rosie snapped and his shirt was cleaned and ironed, her hands straightening the sudden bowtie wrapped neatly around his neck. “Worry about me later. I’m a lot more resilient than you think.”

She fixed him up from head to toe, making sure that he looked just as spiffy as he usually did. She even went as far as licking her thumb and wiping his cheek to which he responded with a grimace.

He was feeling better until he walked with her back into the bedroom that he was keeping Dawn in. All he wanted to do was crawl back into the bed and wrap around her again. Being without her had been torture. At least when he was lying with her, he could pretend that she was actually there.

Rosie’s expression fell when looking at her as well. “She’s going to be okay, Alastor. You know I’ll take good care of her.”

Alastor grit his teeth and nodded. “I know you will.”

“Do you need some blood to get back to the hotel?”

He huffed a laugh. “I suppose if there is anyone that carries blood on their person it would be you, dear.”

A vial was pulled from her pocket. “It’s not gonna be very strong but I hope it’s just enough to at least get you there.”

He nodded before throwing back the liquid. It was hardly anything spectacular but it was enough.

Alastor walked up to Dawn’s body, tucking a hair behind her ear, before kissing her forehead. A trembling breath escaped him but he managed to hold back tears.

He did not look away from Dawn as shadows consumed him. It was likely a bad idea to stay within the shadows for so long but he took a moment to collect himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he forced his smile to widen and his chest to puff.

He heard Charlie cheering on the group – promising results in their redemption program.

The shadows dissipated and he appeared in the middle of the group of excited residents, all smiling and appreciating their work in rebuilding the hotel.

“And we’re doing it with a smile!” he announced. Being sure to make himself known and chipper.

Charlie squealed, “Al!” before wrapping around him and hugging him tight. The wound screamed for her to release him but he didn’t stop her, petting her hair tenderly.

Lucifer groaned. “This guy,” he mumbled.

Alastor shot him a smug grin. He would defeat The King. After everything he had gone through, he was far too determined to win this battle that Lucifer was clueless he was even fighting in.

The Princess released him, grabbing his hand and bouncing up and down. “Just wait until you see the hotel! Dad did an amazing job in helping us rebuild!”

“I am just buzzing in anticipation,” he grinned.

She took off running, Alastor doing his best to keep up. He knew that he was over one hundred years old but he had been thirty for the majority of that time. Sinners often joked that he was old but he had never felt so old.

His joints were aching, his head pounding, as he quickened his pace.

Charlie eventually grabbed his hand and yanked him to stand next to her. The hotel definitely went through a major makeover. The decor still had the odd circus aesthetic Lucifer and his daughter seemed to favor but the structure was much more sound.

Windows peaking into more rooms than anyone could deem necessary were shining and clear. There was what looked like a theater marquis prominently displaying the ‘Now Playing’ lettering underneath a beautiful apple themed decoration. He hated that he enjoyed that bit; no doubt that was a touch from Lucifer.

They had rebuilt his radio tower, antlers sprouting from the roof. Did anyone see all of the blood? He hoped that it was rebuilt via magic. He could add to its charm on his own anyhow. The opposite side of the building had another tower, the studio in the shape of an apple.

Copycat.

She kept the ‘Hazbin Hotel’ name. He actually appreciated that for some reason. It was his personal touch in the building of this project. A genuine smile spread across his face.

“It is lovely, Charlie! It has pizzazz! Sinners are sure to be lining up at the door. I do hope you added enough rooms for the influx of clientele.”

Her eyes immediately began to water, her lip trembling in appreciation for his praise.

She wrapped around him again. “Thank you, Alastor. You have no idea how much your support means to me,” she mumbled into his aching chest.

He patted her back. “Of course, my dear. I am very proud of you. Now if you don’t mind, I am off to find my room.”

“Where’s Dawn?”

Claws dug into his palm as he fought to hold back his emotions. “She is still resting. She fought hard for this hotel.”

She looked disappointed for only a second before she nodded and ran back over to her girlfriend, gushing over her excitement for the future of her charity project.

Alastor kept his chin up as he walked through the new hotel. Most of the quirky charm in the place stayed the same, only bigger and more new. Snake and apple motifs swallowed the aesthetic. He supposed Lucifer was The Sin of Pride for a reason.

He picked keys from the wall. He chose the same room as he had before. Room 555. He didn’t understand his draw to the room, he just liked the familiarity of it. This was him and Dawn’s room. This was their safe place where they didn’t have to hide.

Perhaps he was more predictable than he thought. They somehow recovered his furniture from the remains and attempted to rebuild what he and Dawn had before. They tried. It was more or less the same save for the lack of symmetry he usually preferred in his decorating. An easy fix.

There was no pocket dimension. He supposed no one else would share his memory of the bayou or the field of bluebonnets Dawn would sometimes transform the little world into. It was rare but on her more draining days he sometimes found her soaking in the artificial sun of her little realm.

Perhaps she would be able to do that when she woke. That is, if she even wanted to share a room with him.

He sighed as he took a seat at the edge of the bed. His head dropped to his hands. He was dried up finally, no tears to bleed. Maybe he preferred that over this exhaustion and numbness. All he wanted was to lie next to her again. He wanted to hold her until she came back and ordered that he keep far away from her.

The closet had some clothes in it thankfully, the stiff suit was already too much for him to bear. The rough fabric was overstimulating in the storm of off and on emotions he was cycling through.

They were not his clothes but there were some pajama sets they seemed to assume he preferred. He supposed it was not an unfounded assumption, he doubted anyone would assume that he just wore a tee shirt and cotton pants to bed but he did miss the comfort.

They were red striped and buttoned up at the front, made from silk and far too short on his long legs. He didn’t have it in him to care. He had made himself known, he longed to escape his reality. Sleep took him easily and with no objections.

*****

He was being shaken awake. His shadow chittering frantically.

Dawn had come back.

Alastor jumped from the bed, reaching for his shadow’s forearm and allowing him to pull him back to the townhouse.

Ear piercing screaming was coming from the bedroom. His hooves moved of their own volition, clicking and nearly slipping in their haste, but he kept himself moving until he barged through the door.

Rosie was on top of Dawn, pinning her wrists on either side of her while she writhed and bawled beneath her. The cannibal’s head whipped in his direction.

“Alastor! She was tryin’ to rip out the stitches! Heal her NOW!”

He froze. Did he have the magic to help her?

Dawn’s screams were sure to be heard by all that lived on this street. She cried and begged for the pain to end. The healing waited for her blood to flow once more, she felt every cell work in putting her back together, the skin around all of her stitching swallowing the green thread as it reached for its partner on the other side of the gashes.

“ALASTOR!” Rosie screeched before her expression blanked, Dawn’s screaming coming to a sudden halt.

Oh, god. What trauma was she sharing with Rosie? It couldn’t have been purposeful, his wife was a far cry from her right mind.

Next to the bed, there was a wine bottle. He ran up to it, pulling the stuffed cork with his teeth, the scent of blood reaching his nose immediately.

It was not Dawn’s. That was the go ahead he needed, before he was chugging the liquid. The magic in it was magnificent but he forced himself to drop the appreciation from his mind - Dawn was in pain.

The women came back to, Rosie’s lip trembling, her eye sockets wide and somehow spilling tears with no eyes to supply them.

Dawn’s screaming resumed. She used Rosie’s distraction to her disadvantage, reaching to claw at her neck. She did not get far, Alastor’s shadow jumping in and holding her down once more.

Alastor pulled Rosie off of her and set her standing next to him. He hoped that Dawn could hold back a vision so that he may draw his runes quickly.

He hopped on the bed, scraping his thumb over his teeth and drawing blood. He wasted no time, drawing the rune to mask pain first.

Dawn choked on a deep breath, her body relaxing immediately. Her eyes met his, her watery gaze turning from tortured to what almost looked like appreciation.

He didn’t allow himself to feel that hope that she would not hate him; that she would want him anywhere near her from now on.

Alastor said nothing as he drew the rune to quicken her healing.

The shadow released her. She stared at Alastor for a long moment, as if she couldn’t believe that he was right in front of her.

He kept his head down, jaw tight and teeth aching from the force of his grinding. He waited for her wrath, her ordering that he stay away from her.

She did no such thing. Dawn reached for his face, her palm warming his cheek.

“You’re alive,” she rasped, tears falling freely from her dimmed red eyes.

“I am.”

She gripped his shirt and pulled him down to the bed. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she began to sob, mumbling her happiness that he was okay.

His hands shook as he tentatively wrapped around her, terrified that she would fear him should he grip her too tight.

Alastor brought a hand to his mouth, muffling his own crying.

When he turned to where he had placed Rosie only a moment ago, she was gone. He wanted to ask her what she saw but he was sure that he would regret the answer. He would find her later. Dawn needed him more.

He gently held the back of her head, placing a kiss on her scalp. “Dawn, I have no words to express how sorry I am. I- I would understand if you never wanted to see me again.”

She paused her crying, sniffling as she looked up at him. Her brows worried once she saw his red and puffy eyes. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek.

“I knew what was happenin’. You didn’t. There’s no need for sorries.”

That was not what he wanted to hear. He wanted her to shout, scratch, bite, and beat at him. He wanted her to retaliate the fear and pain he put her through but he more so did not want to argue.

He had nothing to say to that. He didn’t want to accept it but he didn’t want to fight it. He both wanted this situation to go away and for it to haunt him. He wanted punishment, her retribution, but he was given forgiveness.

Dawn kissed him, gripping him by the back of the head and pressing their lips together desperately.

He cried as he returned the kiss, her trembling sobs ripping more and more tears from him.

The kiss ended and she brought her forehead to his. “I’m just so happy you’re alive. I didn’t know if it- if it would have been enough to save you.”

He tucked her head into his chest, the pain shooting throughout his body but he ignored it. He shook, holding her as she cried.

She was happy to see him. That may have hurt more than all of the ire in her being dumped on him. The fact that she was seeking comfort from the person who put her through this pain made him sick to his stomach but she would not accept it from anyone else at the moment. He knew that.

He knew that she still loved him; that she was bound to him for eternity. This curse would continue to follow her in the form of him and he was too selfish to convince her to send him away. She was irrevocably his.

That was his punishment. He would be her parasite and she would love him in spite of it.

Chapter Text

Alastor woke with a start to the sound of screaming. Dawn was clawing at his chest, talons tearing skin, sobbing as she begged for someone to stop.

They had learned all too quickly that sleeping in the hotel was no longer an option. Dawn had been suffering from night terrors ever since she came back from Nowhere. For the past month, they had been spending the nights in the townhouse and Alastor had been desperately trying to help her sleep.

Most nights, she would just mumble names – Michael, Ernest, Nathan, Joseph, Elijah, Harry, Thomas, George – the men she’d killed. Alastor, unfortunately, got his wish of seeing her in action. One night, as he tried to shake her awake, she accidentally pulled him into a vision.

It was the death of Michael. She had been right – there was no joy in her killing.

She had tried to confront Michael for what he did to his daughter: drugging her to have his way with her, which led to the addiction that eventually drove her to Preston’s church in search of help. But his reaction was violent. He left Dawn with no choice but to end his life in a moment of panic.

Other nights were like this one – screaming and crying. He was too much of a coward to ask her what caused this reaction, but the begging led him to many grim assumptions.

Alastor had to sleep in far more clothing, even gloves. She needed him to wake her when the nightmares came, and neither of them wanted him to be distracted – or horrified – by her visions.

At one point, he tried to use a rune to send her into a dreamless sleep. She slept, but found no rest. Sleeping tonics were taken, but they only disguised her nightmares from him – she still suffered, and he had no way of knowing.

Alastor gently removed her claws from his chest, hardly reacting to the pain. He’d earned it – it was his fault that she suffered so.

“Dawn,” he whispered as he shook her. “Dawn, wake up.”

A few more shakes and she was gasping awake, trembling as she shoved her head into the crook of his neck.

He wrapped around her tightly, smoothing down her hair and whispering reassurances into her scalp – that she was safe, that he was right there with her. He meant every word, yet his tongue blistered like a liar’s. She was safe – with the one who had broken her. What a cruel joke.

While she was distracted, he dragged his thumb across his bleeding chest and drew a healing rune.

She had convinced herself that to love her now was to suffer her – that every trauma clinging to her skin was a weight she was forcing him to bear. But she had never been more wrong. It was Alastor who had sown this ruin – he was the burden, the rot beneath the surface. And so he swallowed his pain in silence, if only to ease the ache of a guilt that was never hers to carry.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his skin.

He tore off his gloves and threw them to the ground. Cradling her jaw, he lifted her face to his and pressed his forehead against hers. “What have I told you about apologizing, chérie?”

She sniffled. “You look so tired, Al. I- I know I’m tired.”

He was exhausted but that was not for her to concern herself with. “I am just fine, dear. Hopefully Rosie will have concocted something that will work today,” he comforted while wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Dawn gave him a smile; one that did not reach her eyes. “I sure hope so. We got a mountain of work to do.” She summoned her pocket watch made of sand. “And it’s only four,” she pouted. “Rosie won’t be up for another hour.”

“Would you like to join me for my morning broadcast? There are no special guests today.”

Dawn was no stranger to death – or to seeing what the inside of a demon looked like – but she never had any interest in being part of his hobby. She never complained, but she also never stepped foot in his studio during those special broadcasts. Not her cup of tea.

“What song are you gonna play?”

He hummed, “I was thinking Calloway.”

“Can you play Tarzan of Harlem? I like that one.”

“I will play whatever song you like, darling.”

She gently kissed his nose before hopping up from the bed. He knew that she would agree to anything so long as it did not involve sleeping at the moment but he appreciated her company all the same.

Dawn somehow spent longer than usual getting ready in the bathroom now. Her eye makeup was heavier, masking the dark circles beneath, and styling her hair was the biggest challenge with the new scar.

He was certain that she would glue her hat to her head if she could. She even went as far as to call herself ugly because of it.

It was the most ridiculous thing Alastor had ever heard. Her beauty was the bane of his existence – he hated that others dared let their eyes linger on her for too long.

She never left the hotel without him now. Wherever she went, he was no further than a few paces behind her. She brushed off the crude comments from vulgar men without a second thought. One look from him usually sent them scurrying, but the offense never slipped past Alastor.

All broadcasts within the past month featured those doltish enough to attempt to gain Dawn’s attention. Pentagram City soon fell in line once the pattern was picked up that flirting with The Radio Demon’s wife and fearsome Phoenix Overlord, Dawn, was a death sentence.

He often joined her in the bathroom, kissing her all over and trying to impress upon her just how beautiful she was – in far more ways than just her physical appearance. Alastor would never settle for anything less than the best, and she was certainly that – and more. She was far too good for him, and he knew it. He just hoped she never caught on.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to cover your eyebags, hun? Charlie’s startin’ to get concerned ‘bout you.”

Dawn was trying to act nonchalant about this entire situation, refusing to speak about what happened during The Extermination, but he saw right through her.

In typical Dawn fashion, she wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, that everything was the same as before. But both of them had been permanently affected by Alastor’s actions. The physical evidence was written on their tired faces – her head and his chest scarred so prominently that ignoring the situation was impossible.

It never stopped her from trying.

“I will not be wearing makeup, chérie. Besides, the bags add character, don’t you think?” he attempted to joke but the words fell from his mouth too plainly. He was too tired for jesting.

She bit at her cheek but didn’t argue with him further, returning to fussing with her hair that she would soon lose patience with and cover with a hat.

*****

Charlie actually did a wonderful job in redecorating his studio. It seemed she genuinely paid attention to his specific tastes in decor. Alastor only had to roughen up the edges and add a bit more rot to really hammer home his preferred bayou aesthetic.

The Princess never mentioned finding any blood in the studio. He doubted she would have kept quiet – surely she would’ve asked if someone had been hurt had she seen it. Fortunately, it appeared the place had been restored by magic.

Dawn sat in his lap, drifting in and out of consciousness while he read from his script with as much energy as he could feign. It all passed so quickly that he didn’t feel as though he was in control of his body: the weather, announcing the re-opening of the hotel, a mention of the snake that had apparently died after he and Dawn disappeared from the battle, a few preplanned quips about Heaven’s humiliating shellacking and lack of a response about the future of The Exterminations – then finally, the song Dawn had requested. She wasn’t awake to hear it, but he didn’t want to wake her; any rest she could find, he was willing to give.

Alastor knew not to allow her to fall too deep into her slumber – the realm of dreams was a danger to her now. Once he signed off, he gently rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. “Darling, you’re asleep.”

“‘M not sleepin’,” she groused.

He let out a weak chuckle. “Of course not. Just resting your eyes, is that right?”

Her eyes were barely open, her hat lifting slightly from her head as she dragged it across his chest and nodded, humming a soft “mm-hm” for him.

With another chuckle, he consumed them in shadow and transported them to their bedroom in the hotel, seating them in their respective chairs on the connected balcony. Neither of them were able to gather enough energy to recreate their shared pocket dimension but the decor in their room was more or less the same as before.

Dawn conjured their coffee mugs. Where he usually enjoyed black coffee and she preferred her lattes, today they both had Americanos – with about two extra shots of espresso. He didn’t let Dawn sneak her blood into his coffee anymore, pulling out a vial of the blood Rosie had been supplying him with instead.

He had already given his scolding to Rosie about replacing Dawn’s blood with hers, but the woman wouldn’t budge. He didn’t react to it the way he did to Dawn’s – and it was powerful enough to heal him over a few weeks.

Why must he suck dry the people he cared for most?

They sat in silence as they sipped their coffees and watched the red sun of Hell rise for the day, the radio on their patio table playing Johnny Cash. Dawn had shown him the singer many years ago. He enjoyed the bluesy sound as well as the almost perfect harmony between him and Dawn’s individual taste in music.

'Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine…I bet I'd move it on a little farther down the line…Far from Folsom prison, that's where I want to stay…And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away'

“I.M.P.’s gonna be there today. You think you can refrain from throwin’ Blitz across the room again?”

“If he can refrain from his obscene commentary, I will consider it.”

She hummed into her mug as she took a long sip, finishing off the remaining bit of liquid. “Alright we’d better get goin’. We might be able to snag her before the imps take all her attention.”

He gave a nod before standing up and offering her an arm. She grabbed it and dissolved them into sand.

The second they appeared in Rosie’s Emporium, the small imp male with white hair that Alastor was almost certain went by Foxy ran up to Dawn.

“Okay, it’s impossible that you’ll get this one,” he said holding up a large gun. Dawn smirked before taking it out of his hands.

She stared at the gun, eyes subtly going in and out of focus, before returning it to the imp.

He stared up at her expectantly. “So… what caliber bullets?”

She giggled. “Trick question. It doesn’t shoot bullets. It’s a laser beam made of holy light.”

The imp’s jaw dropped. He fumbled for words. “How do you know that? These guns aren’t even legal!”

An even smaller female imp with short black hair ran up behind her husband. “Hun, I don’t know why you keep tryin’ this, she always guesses right,” she cooed with a high pitched southern accent.

Dawn giggled. “One day you’ll get me, Moxx.”

“Wait, hold on. What about this one? And you can’t touch it!”

She smirked down at the smaller gun, this time not needing to look into the past. “Ten millimeter auto.”

“HOW THE FUCK IS SHE DOING THAT?!” Foxy shouted.

His wife, Millie, shushed him calmly. “She’s an overlord, hun. She’s probably got some weapon related magic. I mean look at her, she’s as cowboy-western lookin’ as Striker.” She turned to Dawn. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Dawn chuckled.

Millie dragged her husband away while he sputtered about how impossible it was that Dawn could guess the caliber of any gun with hardly a glance.

“One of these days, he’s going to catch on, chérie.”

“He won’t,” she smiled.

He huffed a laugh as they made their way up to Rosie’s counter where she was speaking to the taller imp, Blitzø, and the much taller owl-like Goetia Prince, Stolas.

Before they could catch The Overlord’s attention, the grey hellhound of the group walked up to Dawn, taking a picture of the two of them together before Dawn had a chance to object.

“Loona, you know I don’t like you postin’ pictures with me. I get enough attention as is,” she lightly scolded the hound.

Loona was not paying attention, typing away at her phone instead. “Hold on. Russ doesn’t believe that I’m hanging out with overlords. HEY-”

Dawn grabbed the phone from her hand, irately deleting the picture before tossing the phone back to the angry hellhound.

“I said no pictures,” she warned firmly.

Dawn’s fuse had gotten much shorter with her lack of sleep. She often surprised Alastor with her temper. She still had better control over it than most demons, but her irritation was much easier to provoke these days.

Loona scoffed before rolling her eyes and walking away, mumbling words she would never dare say to Dawn’s face as she stomped off.

“Chérie-” Alastor started.

“I know,” she interrupted, sighing. “She’s young. But I just don’t want a bunch of pictures gettin’ out for Baph to find somehow. He don’t pay much attention to the happenin’s in Hell but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

He rubbed a hand over her lower back. “I was just going to suggest that you find the espresso we favor. We’re almost out.”

She leaned her head on his chest. “I’m also gonna put some concealer on your tab. Almost out of that too.”

“It’s our tab, darling.”

She giggled. “Feels better when I call it your tab.”

“Whatever tickles your fancy, chérie,” he chuckled before kissing the top of her hat and sending her off to shop around.

Rosie’s gaze found Alastor. She smiled sweetly before excusing herself from the conversation she was having with Blitzø and Stolas to make her way up to him. “You look awful, Alastor. Have those tonics not been workin’?”

He blinked at her one eye at a time. “Does it appear as though they’re working?”

“Don’t make me smack you again, Al. You’re lucky I am a kind and patient woman.”

Alastor sighed. His own handle on his emotions was lacking as well. “Apologies, dear. As I am sure you can tell, I have not been sleeping well.”

She looked past him towards Dawn. “She’s not gettin’ any better either?”

He shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not. The screaming has only gotten worse.”

Rosie pouted. “I remember the feelin’.”

Alastor’s ears perked straight up. “What feeling?”

“The terrors.”

“Rosie, have you died before?” Why would she not mention that to him? She seemed just fine now – how did she get to ‘fine’?

She sighed. “I don’t like to think about it too much, but yes. A very long time ago, I went to this Nowhere you two talk about. I don’t remember what actually being there was like, but I remember the nightmares. Frank stayed in a different house until I stopped wakin’ up in a panic every night.”

Alastor did not miss Frank one bit. “How did you stop the terrors?”

Rosie didn’t answer for a moment, brows furrowing as she found the words. “I didn’t. They just got fewer and farther between.”

Alastor’s stomach twisted in a knot, posture slumping. There was nothing he could do to help Dawn. She would suffer for decades – if not eternity – because of him.

It would have been one thing if she had screamed at him – if she hated him for what he did – another if she had forgiven him. But the path she chose was the worst punishment of them all. She didn’t blame him for what he did. She had even gone so far as to blame herself for waiting too long to make him drink. If he had been more conscious, perhaps he could have been more careful.

He knew better. He should have been able to stop himself – he should not have ignored his subconscious when he felt that something was wrong. He had to have known deep down what he was doing but he did not stop.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Rosie said with a hand cupping his cheek. “She’s a strong girl. I got all the faith in the world that she’ll get better.”

He didn’t answer her. There was no answer good enough.

Rosie sighed. “Let me grab your basket, dear. Maybe more blood could help you.” She gave him no room for argument before turning towards her office and disappearing behind the door.

“Hey! It’s the creepy red guy you came to talk to,” Blitzø shouted at Stolas before marching up to Alastor. “Unless they’re going up my tight little red ass, keep the tentacles to yourself today, Ursula.”

Alastor’s last bit of patience was almost flung out the shop windows along with Blitzø. His eye twitched as he sneered down at the imp.

“Blitzo,” he groaned.

The imp pointed a long red claw. “The ‘o’ is silent, asshole!”

Alastor smirked. That ‘o’ he was sure to enunciate loudly.

“Blitzyyy,” Stolas sang. “We are dealing with overlords, darling. A bit of respect is due.”

“Bird-fucker still can’t get my name right!”

“You’re a bird fucker!” Stolas shouted at the imp, his usual proper disposition dissolving completely. He shooed Blitzø away. “Go… over there. Your daughter is trying to take pictures with Mrs. Dawn again.”

Blitzø’s head snapped towards Loona and, sure enough, the hellhound was attempting to take more unwelcome pictures of Dawn.

“Loony!” He stomped towards her, only to be met with an eye roll – and a kick to the groin from the hound.

Stolas pinched the top of his beak. “Again, I must apologize for his behavior. He’s just…” The Goetia sighed. “Well he’s always like that as I’m sure you’ve gathered.”

“I have,” Alastor answered shortly.

“Right.” Stolas laughed awkwardly. “But, as he said, I did come here to speak with you. Rosie has spoken with me about… what you and your wife are going through… and I believe I can help.”

Perhaps it was a wonderful thing that Rosie refused information from Alastor. Other than their parentage, what he and Dawn were dealing with at home was just about the last bit of information he wanted getting out.

“Did she now?” he gritted out.

Stolas’ bright red eyes widened. “Oh! Please don’t blame her for telling me! We were talking about Via… my daughter,” he added sadly. “She used to suffer from night terrors when she was young. Rosie asked me if there was any way I could help the both of you.”

Alastor relaxed his tight shoulders. If there was anything he could do, he would do it in a heartbeat. “Is there?”

Stolas reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pink pill bottle, then handed it to Alastor. The label read: ‘Belphagor Hard Candy’, with ‘Happy Pills’ printed in big bubble letters.

Alastor’s jaw feathered. His wife was not a loon.

The Goetia caught on to his hesitance instantly – Alastor didn’t realize that he was glaring down at the bottle.

“It is not a bad thing,” Stolas said carefully. “I know that it may have been seen as such during your time on Earth, but they really are helpful.”

Alastor rolled the bottle in his hand. He supposed he would try anything at this point. “And you are sure these will work?”

“Oh yes! I used to put them in Via’s breakfast once she was convinced that she was too old for lullabies. The night terrors ceased in just a few weeks.”

Alastor inspected the bottle more thoroughly. “These are prescribed to you.” He held up the bottle, the name ‘Stolas’ printed neatly on the back.

“They are,” he admitted. “You see… my marriage was, well, it was not like yours,” he gestured to Dawn, dragging different concealer shades over the back of her hand and holding them up for better inspection. The diamond on her engagement ring hit the light just right, the red reflecting and bouncing around the room.

“I had to get my own prescription. I did it for Via… in an attempt to keep our family together, to give her the family I never had. But she found them and took personal offense.”

Alastor brought his focus back to Stolas, who was no longer looking at Dawn but at that awful imp, Blitzø, currently being stomped into the ground by his daughter. The other two imps were frantically trying to separate them.

“My wife and I are separated now. I’m much happier and hoping to repair the relationship with my daughter.” He smiled before turning back to Alastor. “I am no longer in need of these. I would be happy to supply your wife as a show of my gratitude for the opportunity the two of you have given I.M.P. – the opportunity you’ve given Blitz.”

Alastor held the bottle tightly in his hand before pocketing it. He would not be sneaking the medication into her food. It would be her choice. “I suppose a thank you is in order, Your Highness.”

“Oh! You don’t need to call me that.” Stolas cleared his throat. “I have recently lost that title, heh. You may just call me Stolas.”

Alastor gave a curt nod. “Stolas.”

“Well I’d better go separate them before they destroy the lovely Miss Rosie’s emporium. Do let me know when you need a refill. I will give them to Rosie to add to your little gift baskets,” he said as he ran over towards the mess that was the I.M.P. company.

As if on cue, Rosie walked out of her office and handed Alastor a picnic basket. It was much heavier than his usual weekly supply. “Rosie, how many bottles did you fill, dear?”

“It’s not all mine, don’t you worry.”

He surveyed her body language. She was fiddling with her sleeves and shifting on her feet. “Well spit it out, I know something is plaguing you,” he insisted.

“How did she die?” The words fell from her mouth like water from a broken dam, no longer able to be contained.

Alastor stiffened. “That is not my story to tell, Rosie.”

“It was her daddy, wasn’t it?”

“Why are you asking me about her death?” He would neither confirm nor deny anything. It was Dawn’s decision whom she shared her death with. He would not sully her trust any further than he already had.

Rosie’s expression depressed. “I saw somethin’. When she came back from Nowhere. I don’t know how or why I saw it and I know you won’t answer either. I saw a young woman that looked a lot like Dawn, begging on her hands and knees for her daddy to let her go.” She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill from her empty sockets. “He killed her, didn’t he?”

“You know that I won’t answer that.”

“If you ever see him, keep in mind that I would like a word of my own.”

Alastor sighed before giving her a subtle nod. “Thank you for the basket, dear.”

She smiled through her tears before wiping them and flicking her wrists at him. “No need to thank me, Alastor, I know you hate them.”

He huffed a laugh before leaning down and kissing each of her cheeks farewell.

“Dawn, darling! Have you found what you needed?”

“Give me a minute. You know how hard it is to find a concealer when you’re already white as grits without butter?” She huffed.

He chuckled, looking back at Rosie and gesturing his head towards Dawn. “I believe that is an issue you are much better equipped to resolve.”

Alastor took a seat on the couch in the middle of the shop – practically made for waiting husbands – resting his ankle over his knee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash: Loona and Blitzø were successfully separated by Stolas but she was still attempting to photograph Dawn.

A tentacle made of shadows came up from the ground, wrapping around the phone and crushing it.

“You owe me a new one, asshole!” she shouted at Alastor to which he responded with a snicker.

“Why don’t you learn to enjoy real life, dear? It’s so disappointing to watch someone waste their youth rotting their brain,” he smirked.

The hound rolled her eyes. “Fucking Boomers,” she grumbled.

“The Greatest Generation,” he corrected with a mocking smile.

She groaned before storming out of the shop, Blitzø running after her, cooing at her like she was a small child. The imp swore that the hound with the awful attitude could do no wrong. Shoddy parenting skills, if one were to ask Alastor.

Dawn walked up to him, her own basket in hand. “Got what I needed! Jordan’s probably scramblin’ around tryin’ to figure out what to cook for breakfast right now. We’d better get back.”

“Of course, dear,” he said as his hand gently caressed her thigh. “But first, I need to speak with you privately.”

Her face worried immediately, the feathers of her wings ruffling. “About what?”

His ears stood up in alarm. “Oh! Nothing bad, chérie. It’s about… your sleeping habits.”

“Did Rosie find somethin’?”

Alastor stood and offered her an arm. “Actually, it was Stolas. He appreciates the opportunity you have given Blitzo and has offered us his help.”

“Blitz,” she corrected.

He hummed, “nope!”

Dawn breathed a laugh before she transported them back to their room in the hotel. “And what does Stolas know about my sleepin’ habits?”

“His daughter used to suffer from night terrors. Rosie asked for us if he could help you. He used these,” Alastor explained as he pulled the pills from his pocket.

Dawn stared down at the bottle, her expression failing to hide the offense. “I’m not depressed,” she argued.

“No one is claiming that you’re depressed,” he said carefully. He was not a fan of this idea either, but if there was any chance that he could help her, he would do anything. “But nothing else has worked so far, chérie.”

She grabbed the bottle from his hand, her jaw feathering as she inspected the bottle incredulously. Her tail whipped around, agitated, but she made no arguments before looking up at him.

Her eyes searched his. “You should take a nap, hun. I know you’re tired.”

“I will not rest until you can.”

She groaned in annoyance. “Will you stop torturin’ yourself, Al? No one blames you for what happened. I want you to sleep.”

“I killed you,” he breathed, the words feeling like a damning confession. “Dawn, I killed you and you’re suffering because of it. I created this mess – it’s my job to clean it up. When you get a full night’s rest, as will I – and I will not cheat you.”

Dawn sighed, cupping his cheek with her hand. He didn’t deserve the comfort from her but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into her touch.

“Adam created the mess, hun. And Niffty did as Niffty does and cleaned that mess for us. Will you please just try and sleep?” She sighed when he didn’t answer. “I’ll try the pills, okay?”

His head hung as she slowly shook it.

She tenderly grabbed both of his hands and placed them on her waist. Her own hands snaked over his chest before interlacing her fingers over the back of his neck. “I’ll be honest – I’ve never felt fear like I did that day.”

His posture slumped. Here it was. Finally, that retribution he was seeking. “I am so sorry, Dawn.”

She smiled, running her hand through his fringe. “Good. You should be. You scared the hell outta me.” His grip on her began to loosen but she quickly covered his hands with her own. “I’ve never feared anythin’ like I feared losin’ you, Al. You chose death over hurtin’ me.”

His brows knitted.

“You made your choice,” she continued. “And I took it from you ‘cause I couldn’t stand the idea of losin’ you. What happened after that… that fear was nothin’ compared to what I felt when I heard your heartbeat slowin’.”

All he wanted was to wrap around her, to believe what she was saying. But he couldn’t. Seeing what she looked like after he woke from his near-death... the image haunted him. He didn’t know how much of it came from him, and how much from their fall – or from Adam.

The image of her hanging head often clouded his vision, screamed at him in his sleep.

“How can you stand to be near me?” he asked, his voice pathetically small.

Dawn pressed her body completely to his. He kept his hold gentle, never wanting to remind her what it had felt like to be crushed by him – torn apart by him.

“Alastor, I’m not afraid of you,” she said seriously. “You and I both know I could’ve stopped you, but I didn’t. I let it happen, and I’d let it happen over and over again if it meant you’d be here with me today. Pain ain’t nothin’ new to me, hun. Grief is – and I refuse to grieve you.”

He leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “I never want to grieve you again, chérie.”

Her face changed, but before he could discern what emotion she was portraying, her lips found his as she jumped up and wrapped herself around him. The kiss was not lustful or hungry – it was a confession. A promise she couldn’t make.

Dawn was the one to break the kiss, resting her forehead to his. “Now, I’m gonna take my pill and get breakfast started and you’re gonna take a nap.”

His smile was small but it twitched just a tad bigger. “Is that an order, Mrs. Broussard?”

“You’re damn right it is,” she teased before kissing his nose. “I’ll wake you when food’s ready.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“What do you think?”

He chuckled lightly. Stubborn woman. “I will take a nap if you try for one as well, after breakfast. I’ll stay right next to you. If I see any sign of nightmares, I will wake you immediately. Does that sound fair, darling?”

She took a deep breath, biting at her cheek. She hummed, “fine.”

*****

Alastor slept through breakfast. Dawn did, in fact, come to wake him once the food was ready, but with no panic to jolt him into consciousness, he fell back asleep immediately.

He awoke to Dawn sitting with her back to the headboard, his head in her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair – lightly scratching at the base of his ears.

“Do you feel better, hun?”

He hummed as he leaned into her touch. “Much, much better. It’s your turn now.”

She sighed. “Charlie’s startin’ to give tours to new sinners. I was waitin’ til you woke up to tell you. We gotta stay awake a bit longer – Lucifer’s showin’ face so we gotta as well.”

Alastor groaned. Lucifer had been gloating about his heroic saving of the hotel ever since The Extermination.

“After the tours, you will be sleeping, chérie.”

She chuckled before kissing the tip of his antler. “You’re stubborn as a mule, you know that?”

“Says the pot to the kettle,” he teased.

She giggled as he sat up to kiss her cheek before snapping his appearance in place.

They walked down the grand staircase together, Dawn putting on her best performance of well rested.

He could not wait to get her to sleep.

“Oh look who decided to join us,” Lucifer mocked. “Bambi. Tweety Bird.”

Dawn’s eyes narrowed at her unknowing master. His teasing now extended past just Alastor ever since Lucifer found out about their marriage. Dawn was now included in his disrespectful commentary.

“Morningstar,” she sneered.

Alastor placed a cautious hand over hers, which was gripping his bicep dangerously. Her temper was a treacherous thing now. He needed her to hold out until he could get her to sleep.

Lucifer smirked in response to her all-too-clear ire. “A ‘Your Highness’ is more appropriate, don’t you think?”

Her tail flicked around, acting as a traitor to her attempt to calm herself.

“Oh, are you finally taking up your duties as King of Hell?” Alastor chirped before Dawn could give herself away further. “Had enough of the useless ducks?”

Dawn smirked as Lucifer’s expression soured.

Lucifer scoffed. “Stupid bellhop,” he mumbled as he stormed off.

She took a deep breath. “These pills had better work before I end up testin’ all my theories on how to kill him.”

He placed a kiss on her hat. “I would not let you, darling – as enticing of an idea that is.”

“Let’s get these tours over with.”

The tours were short – most of the very small groups only coming for either shelter, or to attempt to befriend some of the powerful figures that resided in the hotel. None were there for redemption.

Even with that, there had been a few takers in the free room and board. It gave Charlie the hope they needed her to feel and demonstrated to Lucifer that his daughter could be seen in a leadership position. He had yet to consider Charlie for the throne but Dawn was sure he would come around soon.

Their sixty percent depended on it.

Charlie waved off the remaining demons that decided against staying in the hotel. “I hope you guys reconsider! The door’s always open!”

She turned towards Dawn and Alastor, who were giving their friendliest version of a wave they could pull off. “Thank you guys for participating so much in the tours. It- it really means a lot to me.” She smiled, her eyes sneaking a glance towards Lucifer.

Lucifer was seated on the couch, sipping on his coffee mug that had a crude drawing of a deer with crosses for eyes, ‘deer season’ written in red lettering.

“Of course, sugar,” Dawn cooed. “You know we’ve always been here for you.”

Charlie’s eyes watered before she crushed Dawn against her. Dawn smiled as she pet her hair.

The Princess released her, bouncing on her toes before running off to her office to plan for the next day's tour.

Dawn snapped their coffee mugs into their hands. Alastor’s had a dead duck on it, ‘duck season’ written in the same crude handwriting that decorated Lucifer’s mug. Dawn’s featured a drawing of a cowboy boot crushing a white snake, ‘there’s my boot in a snake’ written beneath it.

Alastor chuckled. “I believe you got the saying wrong, chérie.”

She smirked. “Nope.”

They casually made their way over to the round purple couch that now took up the front room of the hotel. Lucifer rolled his eyes dramatically as they sat across from him, his eyes narrowing when he saw their mugs they were sure to angle correctly.

Angel was seated on the couch next to him, casually scrolling through his phone, completely oblivious to the silent challenge being exchanged between the warden and the prisoners.

“I bet you two think you’re funny,” Lucifer said casually but Alastor did not miss the small twitch of his eye as he took a sip from his mug.

“Being in the entertainment business for over one hundred years did teach me a thing or two,” Alastor retorted.

Lucifer huffed. “A little birdie,” he said with a smirk at Dawn, “told me you two got your asses handed to you in your face-off with Adam.”

Alastor opened his mouth to answer, but Dawn was quicker. “At least we were here. Convenient how you only showed up after we all had our turn with Adam.” She shrugged. “Should probably be thankin’ us for wearin’ him down for you.”

“Ooooooh,” Angel uselessly added, finally looking up from his phone.

Lucifer’s shoulders stiffened watching Dawn blink sweetly at him, taking a small sip of her coffee.

Alastor laid a gentle hand over her thigh. As much as he loved watching his wife fire back at Lucifer, they had to walk the wire around him. A few quips here and there he seemed to expect, but should he care enough for genuine retaliation…their files were far too available to him to risk it.

She needed to sleep. Dawn was a powder keg at the moment, just one spark away from blowing up.

“I couldn’t come sooner,” Lucifer grumbled.

Angel’s head was propped up by his fist, his own smirk painting his face. “Yeah, why couldn’t you come sooner? Woulda been nice for the short king himself to at least help plan for the attack.”

Lucifer uncrossed and crossed his legs. “I was under contract. I wasn’t allowed to do anything to stop the exterminations until they… hurt Charlie,” he finished quietly.

“So you didn’t wanna break contract until they did, huh?” Dawn asked. “I would say directin’ an army at a Hellborn, your daughter, was a shattered contract by itself.”

“You don’t know anything about-”

“Now, I’ve never had a daughter of my own but I know this much,” Dawn interrupted. “Ain’t a contract in any universe stoppin’ me from protectin’ her.”

“I believe what my wife is trying to say is that your support for your own daughter would have been much appreciated,” Alastor interjected.

Dawn needed to sleep. Now.

Angel’s brow cocked as his eyes shot between Lucifer and Dawn’s glaring contest. “Alright guys. It’s not like we can change the past. Lighten up, will ya.”

There was a loud knock on the door.

Everyone’s heads shot in the direction of the sound. It was a hotel. Why was there knocking?

Angel looked around the group. “Don’t everyone get up at once,” he scoffed as he walked up to open the door.

A woman stood at the entrance, her hand held up in a timid, black gloved, fist – just about to knock again. She was incredibly tall, her long blonde hair almost reaching the ground that the trim of her purple gown rested on.

“And, uh, how can I help you?” Angel cluelessly asked.

The woman opened her mouth to answer but Lucifer slowly sat up from the couch. “Lilith,” he breathed before his feet carried him towards her, seemingly of their own volition.

Alastor’s head whipped around to face Dawn, his body taking an extra second to catch up.

She was blinking away a vision, her eyes wide and mouth agape. “It was ‘cause of me,” she whispered.

*****

Baphomet sat at a long white table, his fingers drumming the marble impatiently.

The large, light blue doors at the other end of the room swung open obnoxiously, Adam and his lieutenant strutting into the conference room.

Adam took a sip from the smoothie in his hand casually. “Sorry we’re late, B-Dawg, had important shit to do before this.”

Baphomet took a deep breath, calming himself. “It’s alright, Adam. And please, I would prefer that you use my full name.”

Adam slumped, groaning. “But it’s so fucking loooong. What about Baph?”

“Baphomet,” he replied sternly, the flame between his horns burning just a bit brighter.

The First Man rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What's the meeting for?”

The goat interlaced his fingers and sat up straighter. “Are you aware of… my program?”

Adam shrugged. “Sera mentioned it once or twice.” He turned to his lieutenant. “Do you remember anything she said, Lute? I definitely wasn’t paying attention.”

Baphomet glared at the exorcist standing at Adam’s side. “She is not meant to know about any of this,” he gritted out.

Lute held her helmeted head higher. “I know everything Adam knows.”

“Yeah, she’s cool. Pound it, danger tits.”

Baphotmet sighed his annoyance as Adam and Lute shared a fist bump. “How much do you know, Lute?”

“I know that it is a program to keep a leash around the children of lesser gods,” she replied stiffly.

Baphomet let out a sharp laugh. “Lesser gods,” he mused. “Lesser god’s children would not need to be leashed.”

Lute shifted on her feet subtly. Adam took a loud slurp from his smoothie. “So, what about it? Haven’t the other gods stopped fucking mortals?”

“Chronos has thrown his hat into the ring.”

Adam paused, his eyes going wide. “Holy shit! The fucking time god? Just kill the kid, shit!”

Baphomet’s teeth ground, his black fur standing on end. “I cannot kill the children. It would break the contract.”

“So fucking what? The kid shouldn’t exist!”

“Aren’t the gods forbidden from meddling?” Lute interjected.

Baphomet’s fist tightened. “Chronos and his brats are particularly skilled in complicating things,” he seethed. “I cannot prove that their mere existence is meddling. He has kept his promise in staying out of their lives as well as blocking the majority of him from their visions.”

“Bullshit you can’t prove it!” Adam threw his now empty smoothie behind him. “Chronos knows everything! He knows what… wait did you say brats? As in more than one?”

“He fathered triplets. Three girls.”

“What the fuck? Kill those bitches before they can walk!”

“They are already grown, Adam. The first one will be darkening my doorstep in less than a month.”

“So… are you here to ask me to kill them?”

Lute stood taller, her hands held firmly behind her back. “Their existence is blasphemous and unnatural. Gods are not meant to mingle with mortals. I will happily take care of them for you, sir.”

Baphomet smirked. “Might I remind you that your god impregnated a mortal.” He was met with purposeful silence. “What is unnatural is the bastardizing and amplifying of god magic with demon magic, and then it being wielded by the worst of humanity. I cannot hire mercenaries or ask anyone to kill them. Chronos will know and the program will be officially disbanded. I cannot risk it.”

Lute and Adam exchanged confused glances before looking back to Baphomet, awaiting his explanation for coming to them.

The goat sighed. “Chronos has prophesied that one of his children will bring the end of The Purgatory Program… and have a hand in the end of The Exterminations,” he added darkly.

“And we’re not supposed to kill them… why?” Adam asked once again, annoyed.

“It is a simple prophecy — nothing immutable," he added through gritted teeth. "I am here to ensure it never comes to pass. He would not tell me the why or the how, but this has Lilith written all over it. The Mother of Demons is unbound by contract with either you or Lucifer, and she harbors a particular hatred for The Exterminations. I need her removed from the equation.”

Lute’s smile grew ever so slightly. “So we get to kill her instead?”

“If that is your wish. Though I don’t suggest it – Lucifer would retaliate.”

Adam’s leg began to bounce, anxiety contorting his posture. “I can make a deal with her,” he said quietly. “She has her own brat to worry about and her little bitch of a husband,” he added bitterly.

“Do whatever is necessary. She cannot be in Hell when the child arrives. She will be far too useful to The Queen and if she were to find the child before she dies, it would mean the end of The Exterminations and the end of The Purgatory Program."

“And if the brat just happens to die during an Extermination?” Lute asked sinisterly.

Baphomet shrugged. “It is unlikely that she will survive long enough to experience one, but she will be a demon – what happens to her in Hell is under Lucifer’s jurisdiction. That is out of my hands.”

Dawn stumbled backwards.

Alastor was able to gather his bearings quick enough to catch her before she fell onto their bedroom floor. “Chérie, you need to sleep.”

“This seems pretty important, Al. I’m not dead. What the hell is she doin’ in Hell?”

He brought her back to standing, cupping his hands around her jaw. She looked absolutely exhausted, her eyes blinking erratically in an effort to stay open. “It will still be important when you wake. There is nothing you can do until you get some rest.”

“Just let me see why she’s here.”

“No,” Alastor said seriously. “I don’t think you have enough magic in you to even have a vision. What Lilith is doing here will have to be seen after you’ve slept.”

She did not answer.

“Please, chérie,” he begged. His voice was weak. Seeing her like this was deeply unnerving. His usually bubbly, sharp-witted wife was now a jaded and enervated thing. If there was any chance of saving her, she needed her strength.

Dawn slumped into him, her head meeting his chest too hard. She managed to nod as she sighed.

Alastor wrapped his arms around her, snapping her into some more comfortable clothes, then picked her up to place her gently on the bed.

“I will be right next to you the entire time,” he reassured.

Alastor covered her with the comforter before climbing into the bed next to her, laying her head on his lap and stroking her hair.

Dawn fell asleep almost instantly.