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Tori sat at the edge of the cracked marble fountain in the Hazbin Hotel’s overgrown courtyard, staring into the rippling water. She’d tried to hold it together all day—smiling for Charlie, avoiding Angel’s questions, pretending like everything was fine. But now, with night settling in and the world finally quiet, the mask slipped and her hands shook.
She didn’t hear footsteps, just the gentle static fizz of Vox’s screen-face as he appeared by her side. “Bad day, huh?” His voice was low, lacking its usual sharp edge.
Tori nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Alastor was next, gliding out of the shadows with his usual eerie cheer. “Why, my dear, you look positively dreadful! Which, I suppose, is standard fare around here, but—” He paused, his grin faltering just enough to show concern. He set his cane aside and crouched to meet her eyes. “What’s troubling you?”
“I just… I don’t know how to keep going,” Tori whispered. “It feels like everything’s too much.”
Vox leaned back against the fountain, arms folded. “You know, you’re allowed to say screw it and feel bad for a while. Hell won’t fall apart without you.”
Tori gave a shaky laugh. “I thought you all hated weakness.”
Lucifer’s presence was more a shift in the air than anything else. One moment he wasn’t there, and the next, he was seated on the other side of the fountain—impossibly regal in a suit that shimmered like a midnight sky. “Strength isn’t the same as never feeling pain,” he said, voice warm and steady. “Even I need a break sometimes, Tori.”
Alastor hummed, tilting his head. “Pain is a lively companion, but it’s better shared than suffered alone. Would you care for a story, perhaps? Or a tune to chase away those blues?”
Vox rolled his eyes, but there was a gentleness to it. “Or you can just sit with us in silence. No need for words if you don’t want them.”
Tori looked at them—this strange trio, each powerful in their own way, each offering comfort in a way she hadn’t expected. The weight in her chest eased a little. She let her head rest on her knees, eyes closed, just listening as Alastor began to hum an old jazz tune, Vox’s static blending in as a soft background, and Lucifer simply existed beside her, calm and unwavering.