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Everyone at the undervale had an important role to play. Contrary to popular belief, Abaddon and Esther did too, even if it seemed like a smaller role. Their role was probably the most important, because Esther protected the family from anything dark that lingered in the shadows...
And Abaddon had maybe the most important job of all (in his opinion).
He kept an eye on the family's well-being from the vents. He could see everything from there and move fast. It was easy for him to move from family member to family member. Recently, his vent privileges had been contained after an incident involving a paying customer accidentally seeing his red eyes glaring at her during the night; in his defense, she was playing with an oujia board, and he wanted to give her an authentic experience before some other demon could take it from him.
However, this did not deter him. He was the all-mighty Abaddon, so of course he found a way to check on every member of the Freeling family from the shadows to make sure their physical and psychological well-being were adequate... or as well as it could be... considering they lived in a deeply cursed hotel.
Abaddon considered himself an expert when it came to this particular task. After going through the birth of the world over one hundred times, he was forced to watch-
No.
A tiny, child-like voice interrupted his thoughts like the tiniest ring of a bell.
Let's not think about that.
So, he didn't.
Sometimes, he let him take the reins. He had a tendency to know when somethings were just too painful to think about.
Sometimes, he let him fuse with his own thoughts and influence what came out of the vessel's mouth.
His weekly checks remained mostly the same, except for one anomaly.
Ben.
Abaddon actually discovered something was wrong while he was in the lobby, once again admiring the concept of fire.
Usually, Ben would fling himself on the couch and find whoever would listen to tell them about his day. But on this particular afternoon, he let out pathetic sigh and walked upstairs.
Abaddon's head snapped toward the stairs, walking toward it and watching him round the corner. The memory of Nathan's many sighs ran through his head unbidden.
No! No! We have to fix this! The voice cried, not even bothering to demand he forget about it.
"Fix it indeed." He whispered back.
He climbed through the vents, trying his best not to make anyone aware of his presence. He was quite lucky to be in the vessel of a malnourished 8-year-old boy. Fifty pounds was easy to keep silent, even in rusty old vents.
He stopped just at Ben's room and watched with suspicious eyes. The boy was lying on his bed, listening to sad music. His eyes seemed melancholic, or what Abaddon recognized as melancholic. At least, it was enough to make alarms go off in Abaddon's head, even louder this time.
This isn't good, Abby! What shall we do? This will be just like last time! Everyone will leave us! Like they always-
"Silence!" He hissed.
He had to take the reins. Being emotional wasn't going to help matters.
Ben looked toward the vents and Abaddon put his small hands over his mouth. Luckily, Annabelle chose that moment to walk through the wall and start talking loudly about her problems.
Admittedly, Abaddon was not a big fan of many of the ghosts that lived in the hotel. Except maybe for the man with the candles, and that was only because Abaddon found him silly- and he liked the flames.
But he was even less of a fan of Annabelle. Maybe it was because she was stingy with her bones, or maybe it was because she talked too much, he wasn't quite sure.
"Today my bully-" Ben started.
"Ben, are you even listening!" Annabelle interrupted.
Aha!
He was depressed because of a nemesis. Abaddon could relate, he had many nemesis- the little boy not so much. But Abaddon knew what it was like to be bullied, much more than he would care to admit.
I was bullied too! The tiny voice spoke up.
Yes, but you let them walk all over you before me. Abaddon reminded him. He was careful not to speak out loud this time.
It's what got us into this mess... He finished, and his tone was strangely apologetic.
He wouldn't think about that anymore. Back to his original mission.
Maybe if he could find a way to defeat said nemesis, he could find a way to make him happy again!
That will take far too long... We don't even know his nemesis' name.
Stupid, insolent...
"Then what do you suppose we do." He grumbled back.
Something we couldn't do before, Abby. Let's remind him all the good things about being alive!
"Fine." He whispered, backing up in the vent.
He still thought murder was a better idea.
Finding Katherine was not hard. She was usually in one of two places at this time: in her office or at the desk. Abaddon tried his best to skip over to her, an innocent look on his face.
"May I have the colorful drawing sticks and a piece of parchment paper." He asked, very nicely. "I vow to not eat either the sticks nor the paper like last time."
Katherine looked slightly suspicious. "Hm. Fine." She said simply. "The 'drawing sticks' are called crayons."
"Crowns." Abaddon repeated.
"Cra-YONS." Katherine sounded out. "You know what, nevermind. I'll go get both of those for you, and you better not eat the crayons because I'm hosing you down with the garden hose this time if you do."
Once both the 'crayons' and paper were in hand, Abaddon was a man on a mission.
Sure, he didn't know how to spell, but he had the human alphabet pretty much down or at least the boy he was sharing a body with did. And sounding out words was pretty easy. He didn't know why spelling was so hard for small human children. He, Abaddon, had pretty much mastered this himself.
After making three cards for Ben, he scurried inside the vents and toward Ben's room.
.
What an absolutely miserable day, is the only thought running through Ben's mind.
Maybe being bullied wouldn't suck so bad if it was actually creative, but getting his lunch stolen? Another 'kick me' sign on his back? It was all so mediocre.
At least when someone spit a loogy on his locker that was actually somewhat creative.
He just wished someone would listen. He really enjoyed being with Annabelle, but listening wasn't really something she did well- and wasn't something she cared to do.
If only someone-
And then, as if someone had called upon a tiny 50 pound fallen angel, there was the sound of someone opening the vent door. A small, pale hand reached out and dropped three home-made cards before shutting the door once more.
He sat up before making his way cautiously toward the pieces of paper.
He could see Abaddon staring at him, he looked almost shy. As soon as they made eye contact, he looked away.
Ben looked at the cards.
The spelling was horrible, but there were little pictures, and he could mostly make out what they were supposed to say. They were comforting? In a weird sort of way. In an Abaddon sort of way.
Yoo will outliv ur... it was supposed to say 'You will outlive your enemies' but enemies was spelled so horrendously it gave Ben an actual headache.
Yoo will not sea the son explod... Maybe 'You will not see the sun explode' which, that was true. He had to give him that one.
Yoo are under mi protaction... That one was the hardest, but he figured it said 'You are under my protection'. The sweetest part was the picture of Abaddon holding hands with a stick figure he assumed was supposed to be Ben himself, judging by the gap in his teeth and the freckles.
"Abaddon what is this?" He asked, looking up at the vent.
He backed up as he listened to the boy fumble. Soon the vent door opened and he slid out, landing on his feet and staring at Ben with intense large, blue eyes.
"You are sad." He stated.
It was not a question. It was a statement. He had already decided, and he was right. He had been sad, which caught him off guard since no one else seemed to notice.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sad today." Ben shrugged. "I kinda had a rough day at school."
Abaddon pointed to the cards. "I have decided to give you reasons to continue your life in this mortal coil."
It didn't click right away. Abaddon spoke very formally, without emotion. But when it clicked it almost made Ben fall over. "Wait?" He gasped. "You thought I was going to kill myself."
Abaddon blinked. He didn't seem shocked by this revelation at all. He looked at Ben like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You were sad." He repeated.
Ben went down on one knee and grabbed Abaddon by his narrow shoulders. Abaddon looked confused, and he didn't even move away from his grip, he simply continued to stare. "Abaddon." Ben started. "Just because I'm sad doesn't mean I'm going to do that."
Ben continued. "I'm just sad."
Abaddon cocked his head and looked down at his shoes. "Yes, but that's what Nathan said." His voice fell into a whisper. "Every time. He said that every time... But still..."
Ben swallowed.
Oh shit.
The cards were his way of trying to save him, wasn't it? He was trying to save him in a way he couldn't save Nathan. How was he supposed to explain depression to a demon and a little boy sharing a body that didn't have a fully developed brain?
"That's a different sadness, Abaddon..." He said slowly. "That's like being sick, okay? A-And it's hard for you to cure that sickness." He explained. "I'm just sad because I had a bad day."
Abaddon nodded, but looked at Ben, an odd but determined expression in his eyes. "But I want to assist you." He said. "You are my brother, like when we went to save blender."
Ben chuckled and messed with Abaddon's hair, earning a grumble from the boy.
"I need someone to listen?" He said, plopping down on his bed. "Are you a good listener?"
Abaddon put his hand in a fist and brought it to his chest. "Ben Freeling, I vow to listen to your secrets and carry them until the end of time and after." He said earnestly, a serious look in his eyes. "No amount of torture would make me reveal them"
"Mm, you're laying it on a little thick there, buddy." He chuckled. "But I appreciate the sentiment."
Turns out, sometimes the best listener was a demon/little boy fusion stuck in the body of an immortal 8-year-old from the 18th century.