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There are only two things about hell that Vaggie would ever admit to actually liking. The lack of anyone giving her orders, holding her to standards she could never hope to fulfill, training her until she couldn’t physically stand…had been difficult to adjust to, at first. But it was kind of refreshing, once she got used to it.
Secondly, of course, was Charlie, who Vaggie was starting to believe might be the only good person to exist, in heaven or hell. Charlie, who had slipped through the cracks in Vaggie’s walls by complete accident and, instead of tearing apart the remains of her weakened soul, had comforted it, cared for it, fixed things that Vaggie had never known were broken until Charlie healed them with a kiss and a rainbow band-aid.
Charlie, who was hopelessly, irrevocably, dangerously naive.
When she’d first learned of Charlie’s dream, Vaggie had managed to remain outwardly supportive. She’d reasoned with herself that Charlie must’ve had some sort of basis for her theories, that she must have met some sinners in the past that were kind or virtuous, that weren’t the immoral, sinful, self-serving monsters Adam had portrayed them as, that actually did deserve redemption.
But, with the exception of Charlie, Vaggie hasn’t met a single decent soul since Lute cut her eye out of her head. Not the cheating, cheapskate landlord they’d had before Charlie had asked Lucifer for the old hotel, not the homophobic bitch who’d given them the hotel’s first TV advertisement, and especially not their new radio-obsessed, only-occasionally-helpful host.
Charlie’s hotel is based on her own pure optimism, and although Vaggie doesn’t, can’t share her idealism, that unwavering hope was one of the reasons Vaggie fell in love with her in the first place.
All that aside, to say Vaggie believes in redemption for the worst group of people she’s ever known would be a lie. But she believes in Charlie, and that’s enough.
For now.
Vaggie can’t quite figure Husk out.
She’ll freely admit that he’s the least insufferable of the three sinners currently staffing the hotel, but he is by far the most confusing, and it’s pissing her off.
Alastor and Niffty are comforting in the sense that she knows what they want. Alastor wants to watch them fail. Niffty wants messes for her to clean up and little creatures for her to torment. Luckily for the two of them, the hotel has an abundance of failures, messes, rats, and roaches.
Husk is a different story. He’s here because Alastor is forcing him to be (Vaggie’s not quite sure what leverage Alastor has over him, but she figures she’s better off not knowing) which means she has no way of knowing what he actually wants. She’d have been happy to write him off as a no-good drunkard, if it weren’t for the stupid pig.
That first day, all those months ago, as Alastor was wandering around the hotel, effortlessly fixing the plumbing, the heating, the electricity, all the things Vaggie had been trying to repair on her own for months (no, she’s not bitter at all, why do you ask?) Husk had vanished, reappearing hours later with a hot pink duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a squirming pink hellpig under one arm, glaring around as if daring anyone to say anything about it.
Vaggie has no idea why Husk has the damn thing. It sits on the bar counter all day, sleeping, eating, or breaking bottles of alcohol while chasing Niffty around, and just generally makes his life harder. The damn thing doesn’t even seem to like him all that much.
It almost seems to just hate men in general, since it’s never had a problem with her, Charlie, or even Niffty, the most likely candidate to chase it around with a knife, but absolutely refuses to be in the same room as Alastor, or any other male sinner they’ve brought in. Vaggie can relate.
She’d asked Husk its name that first day. It had been the first (and only) time she’d asked him anything related to it, and he’d glared at her as though she’d killed his entire family (which…was technically possible, but Vaggie didn’t like to dwell on that particular idea for too long).
“Fat Nuggets.” He’d finally admitted after a stretch of silence.
Charlie had cooed at it and offered up a treat, while Vaggie had worked very hard to keep a straight face. “Fat Nuggets? That’s an… interesting name.”
Husk had rolled his eyes and turned away. “Not my choice.”
Vaggie had taken the hint and stopped asking.
So no, she doesn’t get Husk, and yes, it does bother her, but she had been okay letting it rest.
Until today, that is.
They’ve been doing the tours for a while now. She and Charlie will pick up a demon or two off the street, give them the rundown and a tour of the hotel, and then the sinners will laugh in their faces and leave.
A frankly surprising amount of them have attempted to flirt with Husk. Whether they actually liked him or because they thought it would get them free drinks was hard to say. Each had been turned down with the same monotone voice and deep-seated scowl. Because of this, Vaggie doesn’t think anything of it when their newest potential recruit’s face lights up at the sight of Husk behind the bar.
Angel Dust is probably the most famous sinner in hell who isn’t an overlord of some kind. He’s also the most annoying character she’s met down here, which is a genuinely impressive feat at this point.
She’d been surprised to see someone so famous just standing around on a street corner, and somewhat annoyed when he’d actually agreed to let the two of them show him around the hotel. Charlie had run off as soon as they’d entered in an attempt to find Alastor, the one who was supposed to help them show new guests around.
Angel Dust, from what she’s seen so far, is pushy, self-obsessed, and can’t seem to get more than two sentences into a conversation with anyone without making a dirty joke. So when he saunters over to the bar with a smirk on his face and a sway of his hips, Vaggie crosses her arms and settles back to enjoy watching Husk turn him down with the same amount of disinterest he’s rejected every other flirty guest they’ve brought in.
Husk had been standing with his back turned to the counter since they’d arrived, rearranging bottles for what she’s pretty sure is the hundredth time, as Angel Dust drapes himself over the bar counter with a wide grin.
“Heya, kitty-cat. Come here often?”
Vaggie has just enough time to blink at how… surprisingly non-sexual of a line he’d chosen before Husk stiffens and whirls around, more present than she’s ever seen him. He just stands there a moment, jaw dropped, and looking as if someone had set off a flash grenade directly in front of him. Angel Dust giggles at his expression.
And then, the strangest thing happens. Husk just sort of…melts. His pupils expand, catlike, until she can barely see the gold of his irises from where she’s standing. His slack-jawed expression shifts into a brilliant, delighted grin that would make Alastor jealous. His entire body, tail and all, perks up as if he’d taken a shot of adrenaline. He looks ecstatic.
“Angel!”
Angel Dust laughs again, gracefully falling off of the bar counter into Husk’s tight embrace. Their height difference would make the scene almost comical if Vaggie wasn’t so caught off guard by the absurdity of the whole situation.
“Wait, you two know each other?”
It seems takes a few seconds for Husk to register her question (and remember that she’s even there). He releases Angel Dust, who settles himself back on top of the bar with a grin on his face that’s more soft than smug.
“Yeah,” Husk mumbles, face bright red, grabbing a shaker and a couple of bottles from beneath the counter, “We’ve been dating for a while now.”
Vaggie continues to blink in shock as Husk wordlessly fixes Angel Dust a cocktail. She’s not surprised by the fact Husk isn’t straight, she’s more just shocked that he’s attracted to, well, anyone, really. Especially someone like Angel Dust, with his…proclivities.
“Alright Husky, where’s my baby?” Angel Dust demands. Husk rolls his eyes, but gestures to the upper balcony, where Niffty and Fat Nuggets have been chasing each other around in circles for hours now. Angel Dust perks up.
“Nuggets!”
Fat Nuggets instantly grinds to a halt. Niffty crashes into and over him, causing her to fall head over heels down the stairs, cackling the entire time. The pig comes barreling down the stairs after her, leaping into Angel Dust’s arms with the force of a thousand bloodthirsty exorcists. Angel Dust somehow catches him near-effortlessly, cooing and petting him as if he were a newborn baby. Husk wordlessly hands him the cocktail and settles, leaning up against the bar with his chin propped up on one hand, looking at his partner.
It’s the soppy, besotted expression on the bartender’s face as he watches Angel Dust baby-talk the pig that makes it click for Vaggie. She’s not sure how she hadn’t seen it before. The constant disregard for flirty patrons, the hot pink bag of pet supplies, the level of tender care Husk had for an animal that didn’t even seem to like him.
“When you told me Al had you workin’ somewhere with free room an’ board, I didn’t think you meant the princess of hell’s pity project.” Angel Dust offers, glancing around at their admittedly unimpressive lobby.
Vaggie bristles, but Husk beats her to the punch.
“It’s more legit than it sounds. Princess can be a bit of a nut, sure, but she believes in what she’s saying. It’s free room and board for guests too, y’know.”
Vaggie’s never heard Husk say anything remotely positive about the hotel before. It almost sounds like he’s…
“Are you seriously trying to get me to join the princess’s rehab program?” Angel Dust asks, incredulously. Vaggie shares the sentiment.
“I’m trying to get you to move out of the tower.” Husk counters. “Alastor can’t stop you from staying with me if the princess takes you in, and Val can’t keep you working if you have somewhere else to go home to.”
Angel Dust sighs. “It hasn’t been that bad lately-”
“What were you doing outside where the princess could just come up and talk to you?” Husk counters. Vaggie gets the feeling they’ve had this argument before.
Angel Dust scowls, and hugs Fat Nuggets a little tighter. Husk visibly softens, and Vaggie feels a bit like she’s intruding, even though they’re having this conversation in public, at the bar, in her lobby.
Husk places a hand, gently, on Angel’s cheek, and the two stare at each other for a moment. They seem to be having a wordless conversation with only their eyes. After a moment, Angel gives him a tiny, soft nod, and Husk relaxes, relieved. He goes to pour Angel another drink just as Charlie races back down the stairs, almost vibrating in excitement, Alastor in tow.
The moment Alastor lays eyes on the spider demon, his eyes narrow and he visibly recoils. “What on earth is he doing here?”
Husk shrinks, ever so slightly, and Vaggie can’t help but shudder at the aura of pure hatred Alastor radiates. Angel simply smirks at him, and addresses Charlie.
“I’ll stay.”
“You what?!” Alastor snaps.
“You will?!” Charlie exclaims.
Her girlfriend’s already excited demeanor brightens impossibly. Vaggie can feel herself smiling at her dopily, and makes a mental note not to tease Husk about how he looks at Angel unless she wants the same in return.
“I’ll join your little rehab program.” Angel continues. He completely ignores Alastor, something Vaggie didn’t know was possible, and speaks directly to Charlie. “I still have to work, so I can’t promise you any big lifestyle changes, but I’ll give it a fair shot.”
Charlie squeals loud enough that Vaggie thinks heaven could hear if they really tried. She gives Angel a full body squeeze before grabbing Alastor by the hand and racing back up the stairs, yelling something about preparing a room.
Vaggie can’t help but chuckle as she follows them up the stairs, ready to stop Charlie from converting a whole wing of the hotel into a room for their only guest, or to keep Alastor from actually losing his shit and knocking out their electricity again. Probably both, if she’s really being honest.
Behind her, she hears Angel and Husk begin to speak to each other again in quiet tones.
“She reminds me of my sister.”
“I figured she would. You really should stop provoking Alastor though.”
“He can’t touch me unless he wants a war with the Vees again. And the princess too, now. Don’t worry about me, baby.”
“I’m always worried about you.”
“Careful, whiskers. Keep that up and I’m going to think you have a crush on me.”
Husk laughs, a genuine, fond, deep laugh. Vaggie turns to look at the two of them as she reaches the top of the stairs. Angel is sitting at the edge of the counter, Husk standing between his thighs, and somehow neither of them are making it sexual. Fat Nuggets, for once calm and satisfied, is curled up against Angel’s leg. Angel gives Husk a gentle kiss on the forehead before the bartender leans up and kisses him for real. Vaggie decides to give them their privacy. Well, as much privacy as you can get in a public hotel lobby.
As Vaggie walks toward the sound of her girlfriend stressing out over the color of a fitted sheet, she thinks about redemption. Maybe Charlie’s right. Maybe, all a sinner really needs to try and get better is someone who loves them enough to want them to be better. Someone they love enough to want to be better for.
She’s not sure that Husk and Angel actually believe in redemption any more than she’s sure of her own belief in it. She doesn’t know who ‘Val’ is, or why Husk is so scared of Alastor, or why Angel isn’t scared of him at all. But Vaggie can learn. And maybe that’s the first step they need.