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Angel Dust marched through the hallways of the Hazbin Hotel like he was on a mission. In a way, he was.
His heart rate increased as he picked up his pace. He needed to stop you. Talk you out of this stupid idea you’d gotten. Fix this. Somehow.
As he walked, he thought back to when you and him had first met. You had been so young when he found you, all those years ago.
Alone, scared, naive, new to hell.
You had been curled up in an alleyway, tears streaming down your cheeks. Angel could remember how you rocked yourself gently, trying hopelessly to find some form of comfort in this new world you had been thrust into.
Angel had seen shit like that before. Multiple times. Always just walked past. Ignored it. They’d find their way, it wasn’t his problem.
But for some reason, when his gaze landed on you, he stopped. Sat down beside you. And the way you had looked up at him.
Innocently. Desperately.
He knew right then, that he couldn’t just leave you in that dirty alleyway. He wouldn’t let you end up like him.
That was the beginning of the unbreakable bond between the two of you.
Angel took you in, protected you, helped you. To the point where you joked around, calling yourselves “platonic soulmates”.
He was your big brother, and you were his little sister.
When Angel moved into the Hazbin Hotel, you moved with him. Wherever he went, you followed.
Everywhere, except for Valentino’s studio, or anywhere even close to the Vees. Angel wouldn’t allow it.
You were his only reminder that he could be something better. And he’d be damned if he allowed you to get hurt because of his mistakes.
At least, that’s what he thought.
Angel burst open the door to your shared bedroom, his chest fluff moving up and down in time with his ragged breathing.
You were sitting on your bed, petting Fat Nuggets when you looked up at him. “Angie-”
Angel shook his head, closing the door behind him and moving forwards so that he was only a few feet away from you.
“What the actual fuck were you thinking?!” He yelled, his voice cracking, fists clenched.
You stood up slowly, Fat Nuggets jumping off of your lap. You knew exactly what he was talking about. You were expecting this.
“What was I thinking? I was thinking that you couldn't keep going the way you were, and we both knew it.” You said, your arms crossed.
Angel jabbed his pointer finger at your chest. “You had… no right.” He said, his voice low, dangerous.
You gulped. Angel had never been this angry before.
Still, you stood your ground. “Angel, you… you couldn’t keep it up. The abuse. The late nights, the long shifts.” You shook your head.
“So, I got Val to split your contract. I take on half. Half the time, half the work. I-it’ll be easier for you!” You said, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “And, before you say anything, I didn’t go to you first because I knew you’d never agree and-”
Angel put a hand up. “I would never have even let you in the same fuckin’ room as Valentino. Or any of the Vees!” He paced the room, running a gloved hand through his hair.
“Fuck, toots. I knew you were stubborn but I thought you’d at the very least, listen to me about them.” Fat Nuggets shuffled over, looking up at Angel, obviously sensing the tension between you two.
You pursed your lips, looking down at your boots. “I was just trying to help. You’re… you’re breaking. I see it every day.” You sniffled, blinking back tears.
“I’ve had to watch him take little bits of you. Every time you came home from a shoot, a club, a meaningless hookup...” You look to the side, taking a deep breath. “If I didn’t do something soon, there’d be none of you left.” You say, your voice rising with your emotions.
Angel scoffed. “So your solution was to chain yourself to him too?! Do you have any idea what he’ll do to you? God, kid. I’ve spent years tryin’ to keep you away from that life!” He yelled, his voice wavering.
He slammed his fist down on the nearby dresser, rocking the picture frame that sat on top of it.
A photo of you, him and Cherri. Your first turf war. (You had begged Angel for months to let you participate, and he got tired of your whining and finally gave in).
Back when everything was simpler.
Your face softened, and you walked over, grabbing the picture off the shelf before it fell over and smashed.
You gazed at the photograph, clearing your throat to respond.
“And I’ve spent years watching you fall apart, pretending like everything was okay when it so clearly wasn’t.” You said, your voice quiet, almost a whisper.
“I can’t just sit by and watch him slowly tear you to pieces, Anthony. I’m not… I’m not a kid anymore. Please. Let me help you. Like you helped me.”
Angel glanced at you, cradling the photo to your chest. His body stiffened at the sound of his real name.
You rarely called him that. It felt weird when you finally did.
Not wrong. Just… different.
But things were different now.
Angel, with shaky hands, took the picture from your hands and put it back on the dresser, his fingertips lingering on the frame before he pulled his hands to his sides.
“Takin’ you in? All those years ago. That was the only thing I ever did right, in this place.” His voice broke, rising in pitch. He turned to face you, his eyes glazed over with tears.
“When I look at you, it reminds me that maybe I’m… worth something.” He wiped his eyes with his pink and white sleeve, muttering the next few words. “That maybe I’m more than just a set of holes for him to ruin.”
Your face softens, and you carefully place your hand on one of Angel’s arms. “You are. You mean so fucking much to me, Angel. That’s why I’m doing this.”
Angel shuddered when your hand made contact with his arm, slowly relaxing once the initial panic left him, and his body figured out it was you.
You bit back a sob at his unconscious reaction. “See? I can’t even touch you without you flinching. Without you… without you thinking it’s him.”
Angel’s eyes widened, clutching your hand. “No, I’m sorry, it’s not-”
You shook your head. “Don’t. Don’t be sorry. Never about that.” You kissed his knuckles. “We will be okay.” You said, determination etched in your voice.
Angel laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. Just pure regret. He jerked his hands away from yours, his arms flailing aimlessly around him. Like he was reaching for some form of control. Even if it was an illusion. “This is my fault. I should have hid it better. Protected ya more-”
You cut him off. “No. Stop it. You did protect me. You gave me an actual chance in this place. My freedom, my life, I owe it all to you.”
“No, you don’t owe me nothin’. I took you in because you reminded me of myself. When I first arrived in this shithole. And I didn’t want you to end up like I did.” He said, speaking over you.
“And now you… you want to take on half of my debt?! Tie yourself to him too? That’s exactly what I didn’t want you to have to go through. Why I’ve tried so fuckin’ hard to protect you from. And now…” His voice trailed off, a sob escaping his throat.
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Angel. Please. You were drowning.”
“And you think this is helpin’, sugar?! ‘Cause it aint. All I ever wanted was to stop you from having to deal with the same shit I do!” Angel said, his voice growing louder.
“And all I’ve ever wanted was to help you!” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively.
You both stood in silence for a few seconds.
Fat Nuggets sat on the floor, looking from Angel to you, trying to figure out what all the yelling was about.
You and Angel rarely fought. Maybe that’s what made this moment hurt so much.
Angel cleared his throat. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t ya, kid?” He said sarcastically, trying to ease the tension. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
Your eyes made contact with his. “Stop that.” You hissed, clenching your fists.
“Stop what?” He asked defensively, his lower arms resting on his hips, while the other two stood still at his sides.
“Deflecting.” You responded. You walked to your bed, sitting down and holding your head in your hands. “We’re just talking in circles now.” You mumbled.
Angel’s shoulders relaxed, and he begrudgingly made his way over to the mattress, sitting down beside you.
He waited a few moments, before carefully putting an arm around you. You instinctively rested your head on his shoulder, sighing.
“We’ll get through this.” Angel said, his voice shaking.
“I’m not… I’m not forgiving you. I’m not ready for that yet. But I sure as hell aint gonna stay all angry at you. Especially now that you’re gonna start dealing with…with him.” Angel rested his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes for a few seconds.
“I’m sorry.” You said, your voice quiet. “I know you don’t agree with my decision,” you said softly. “but I’m still sorry we’re fighting.” You responded, fidgeting with the purple blanket that sat tossed on the edge of your bed.
Angel sighed, swallowing. “Same here, kid.” He stared off into space, processing everything that had just come to pass.
Fat Nuggets waddled up to Angel, looking up at him. Angel’s face spread into a reluctant smile at the sight of the little pig.
No matter what was going on, Fat Nuggets always seemed to lighten the mood. Angel reached out, picking him up and placing him down on your lap.
You lifted your arms, watching Fat Nuggets get comfortable as he laid down. You lowered your arms, gently petting him. He let out a contented oink. You and Angel both chuckled softly.
Angel watched the scene, his arm still tucked around you protectively.
You were right.
You and Angel would probably never agree on your decision to take on half his debt. That would be something Angel would have to come to terms with. Slowly. Eventually.
But you also weren’t that same scared kid anymore.
You were older, smarter, secure.
Angel had that to be proud of. He shielded you from everything he wasn’t protected from.
The only thing he couldn’t save you from, was your own choices.
And he had to figure out how to be okay with that.
You and Angel had a quiet night after that. Curled up on your bed, with blankets, snacks, and of course, Fat Nuggets.
You would face everything tomorrow.
Tonight, you had each other to hold on to.
And that was enough.