Chapter Text
Charlie sighed, wringing her hands almost pleadingly, as she looked down at her currently frowning girlfriend. "I know it sounds weird, Vaggi, but don't you see it?" The Princess pleaded, eyes darting around momentarily to be fully sure no one could overhear them.
Her frown deepening in contemplation, Vaggi shook her head again. "Amor I just.. don't. Your dad's married, and I don't think I'm wrong in saying he's pretty hung up on your mom. Why would he chase anyone else?"
Charlie stepped closer to her, grasping her hands. Soothingly, she rubbed her thumb over the girl's fingers, speaking softly. "Just trust me on this." She murmured, "I know my dad, and I can tell when he's acting oddly."
"Which is all the time." Countered Vaggi, but she was smiling. "I trust you." And it was the firmest she had sounded in the conversation so far.
Charlie smiled, but her head turned as the close, tell-tale signs of a certain Angel Dust lavishing all his attentions on the bartender he had affectionately dubbed 'Whiskers' came to be heard. Charlie and Vaggi were close enough to the bar to (unfortunately) hear exactly what Angel was saying. "And - oh! - kittycat, you shoulda' seen me. I was like a man possessed." He was currently crooning.
Sighing, the Princess saw he had draped himself, four arms and all, over the very clearly sagging bar counter, and Husk was fighting a losing battle trying to get him off. "Angel, I don't need to hear about the next guy Valentino made you fuck. It's none of my fucking business."
Charlie winced at that, taking a step towards the bar.
"Aww, don't be like that! Howzabout you and I recreat it huh?" teased Angel, tickling Husks chin. The cat's wings puffed up in indignation, and he batted the spider's hands away firmly.
"That's enough of that or I'm gonna stop serving you drinks, Angie." That shut Angel up.
Turning to Vaggi, Charlie found that her girlfriend was currently directing a wayward sinner to their hotel room, being a lot stricter than the blonde thought necessary. She was about to go join her, she could already feel her usual excitement revving up at the prospect of helping a guest, when she became aware of a commotion around the bar that had nothing to do with a porn star.
Alastor, Alastor of all people, had come stumbling downstairs, foregoing his usual teleportation, and was currently leaning against the bar.
What was making Husk - and more prominently Angel - stop and stare, was that Alastor's usually immaculate and pristine outfit was distinctively ascew. And... was one of his buttons undone? Why was his hair messy? Why did his recognisable static that usually blended in as background noise seem to draw every eye, higher in frequency than usual?
Without thinking, Charlie walked over to the Radio Demon. Opening her mouth with a concerned look on her face, she began to speak, "Alastor, is there anythin-"
"Who'd ya' fuck, Smiles?"
Alastor stiffened, glaring at Angel Dust - for who else would have said that so brazenly - his static spiking painfully. Husker winced, flinching and pretending to run out of alcohol. "Shit.. um.. restock." He muttered as he hastily made his getaway, not even bothering to fold his wings as he rushed out from behind the bar, and they smacked into the sides of the feathers, causing him to swear loudly as he briskly ran.
Wishing she could leave as well but determined to help anyone in her hotel, Charlie tried again, clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders. "What I'm sure Angel meant to ask, was that you seem a little.. er.. more.."
Eyes narrowed, Alastor bared his teeth.
Charlie swallowed. But she never did know when to quit it. ".. Dishevelled! Than usual. We wanted to know if everything was.. okay?"
The hotel's air seemed to hum and fizz with danger. Charlie's senses instinctively sharpened, her horns threatening to appear from her head even as she reminded herself there was no danger. Even Angel Dust took a step back, seemingly wary and for once regretting his brash tongue.
Then - miraculously - the tension died, though Alastor's hackles still seemed to be raised. The very lights appeared to brighten as the man spoke, the radio-like crackle of his voice charming as ever. You wouldn't have guessed that he had just scared Husker out of his bar.
"Nothing is amiss, my dear girl! Everything is quite as it should be with me." He said. However, Charlie noticed he was flushed, and also.. sweating? Oh, no! Did he have a fever?!
She opened her mouth, but again, Angel got there first. "You sick or somethin'? Ya' know, you've been acting weird lately Al." Glancing sideways at Angel, Charlie frowned minutely. She hadn't been too concerned with what she had just discussed with Vaggi, dismissing it as her being overly concerned as usual, but if it bothered Angel...
Suddenly, Charlie became aware of her girlfriend standing behind her, glaring daggers at the Radio Demon. Not wanting Alastor to have another strange mood-swing, she faced Vaggi with a wider-than-usual smile upon her pale face. Immediately Vaggi frowned, and Charlie inwardly cursed that her girlfriend could read her so well. Her girlfriend could also read the room however, and she grabbed Charlie's hand, threaded their fingers together and lead her away, leaving an unfortunate Angel Dust with a very volatile Alastor as company.
"Ya' think I could make you even more flushed?-"
"No."
Or maybe an unfortunate Alastor..
Lucifer inwardly cursed all the saints.
If Alastor was going to keep showing his face immediately after they... canoodled, people were going to start asking awkward questions.
And what if they found out? How could he face anyone if they found out? He could just imagine his daughters face, disbelieving and betrayed. Her girlfriend... (Vanastasia, was it?) shaking her head in shame. Alastor, who would be embarrassed and regret ever agreeing to be his. Alastor, who would never speak to him again.
Lucifer curled up in his bed, his fingers closing around his hat which lay previously discarded on his pillow. And Lillith. This made Lucifer pause. He hadn't yet considered what he would do if his (ex?) wife came back.
'That's because you're cowardly. You weren't enough of an angel, and you aren't enough a man.' Whispered that treacherous demon on his shoulder.
"Untrue!" He proclaimed loudly, his words cutting through his duck-infested room and fading into silence.
Silence.
He groaned, rolling over and pressing his face in the pillow. He couldn't keep going on like this, the King of Hell had never had to hide a lover before, and yet he didn't think he couldn't stomach telling just about anyone, not even his own daughter.
Maybe that little voice was right. Maybe he was a coward, too scared to do anything but stay in a middle ground, making compromises that pleased nobody, least of all himself. Maybe.. Maybe..
Maybe he should get some sleep. 'That's right, be a coward. You never did learn from your mistakes, Lucifer. You didn't learn with Lillith, maybe that's why she's not here anymore, you pathetic amateur' He definitely needed sleep.
Lucifer was just reaching for his lights when he heard footsteps. Charlie's voice. Years of paternal instincts sharpened his hearing immediately, but he didn't like what he was hearing.
"Somethings definitely up with Alastor, Vaggi."
Vaggi responded, in lower tones, "Sweetie, volume control. And I agree, but don't go finding out things he doesn't want you to know. He can be dangerous and we still don't know his true intentions."
The footsteps stopped, right outside Lucifer's door. "...Maybe I should ask dad?" Hell's Greatest Dad held his breath. A pause. A beat. Vaggi spoke again, this time sounding a touch confused. "Why would he know anything about Alastor? Don't those two bicker like an old married couple?" Lucifer almost choked on thin air. Did she.. how did she..
He stopped his spiral when he realised his daughter was laughing, thank God.
'Thank who?'
"Yeah, you're right babe," Charlie was saying, and the footsteps picked up again as the pair resumed their walking. "Lets go help some guests!" She squealed, and Lucifer smiled to himself as one pair of feet audibly broke into a run, and the other hurried to catch up.
The devil's hand reached for his light, and it clicked off. As he lay in bed, he thought not of Alastor, nor Charlie, nor anyone else in this peculiar hotel, not even of Lillith. He wasn't dwelling on his fall from grace, or Eve, or Adam, or the Garden of Eden. But a time that felt like it had been before creation. A time that carried a feeling; a feeling that he was free to love. A time that, despite himself, despite what they had done to him, he found himself missing.
How easy it had been - no necessary yet awkward conversations lying ahead, no sense of betraying your wife even after she left you first, no worry of disappointing the only person that had ever truly wanted you. It had been peaceful, and he had known where he stood. And the fact that he could never have that again?
'Maybe that was your punishment all along...'The voice whispered, a trace of a grin evident in its tone.
Alastor blinked blearily. He could remember making his way to his room rather hastily last night, eager to escape the unwavering attentions of that annoyingly nimble spider. He had been in such a state of tiredness, he hadn't even remembered he could teleport.
Alastor couldn't remember having draped himself over his bed like a starfish either, but he supposed that must have happened too. Sliding himself out of bed, he walked towards his dresser, ears twitching as they immediately picked up sounds of arguing within the walls of the hotel. His shadow, which had been snoozing leant against his wall perked up too, falling into step behind its master.
The Radio Demon only had to snap his fingers to dress himself properly, and while nobody was around to see, he still felt a smidgen of pride at the display of his power.
Making his way downstairs, the source of the arguing became evident.
"I don't make anyone do anythin', toots. Sure, I joke about it! But that don't mean they have to."
"Yes, but Charlie told me how you almost made Alastor's bodycount increase last night-!"
"In which way?" Angel asked, interrupting Vaggi's stream of admonishments, the faux-innocence in his voice fooling no one.
At the mention of his own name, Alastor paused on his journey downstairs. He had been on his way to make breakfast, (because apparently no one else in this accursed place could cook besides Niffty, and he wasn't sure if what she concocted counted as food) but now he wasn't sure if he wanted to be anywhere near this conversation. Vaggi was angrier than she usually was, which was saying something.
Thinking about turning around and simply going back to his radio tower, his eye alighted on a figure leaving his room. Instantly, his shadow was by his side and his radio static crackled menacingly. The man's hands were straightening his every-day bow tie when he turned around and caught sight of Alastor.
He visibly froze, stiffening. Then he smiled, though he still looked tense. "Oh, red guy huh? Still not done creepily watching everyone from afar?"
Ah... so it was going to be like this. They were going to pretend it wasn't happening.
Shameful, and yet an inner part of him was relieved. He couldn't have Lucifer thinking he held any sort of affection for him, that was simply... absurd.
Yes. It was better this way.
He curtly responded, "And I see you are not done critiquing everything I do, your highness." The last word came out with a bit more venom than he intended, and he watched Lucifer deflate slightly. But he had made his point, and was too prideful to back down. "I was just about to make myself useful and prepare some breakfast. Pray tell me how you were about to help the hotel?" Smile sharpening, Alastor morphed into the shadows before the affronted blonde could answer.
He warped downstairs, ignoring Vaggis and Angel Dusts pointed stares and made his way into the kitchen. Niffty darted between his legs joyfully, wielding a kitchen knife. "Stab stab..!" She cackled, squeaking when Alastor picked her up by the scruff of her neck and let her dangle. "I am afraid I need that knife to prepare breakfast, my dear."
Niffty stared at him for a moment, her red hair wild and frizzy and her round eye's pupil contracting slightly before dropping the utensil into his outstretched palm. He promptly dropped her, and she scuttled along the floor after the terrified roach like a crab. If he hadn't been smiling before, he supposed he would be doing so now.
"Breakfast!" Alastors jovial call made everyone swivel their head. Though half of them would rather die than admit it, they all loved his cooking. The hotel was suddenly alight with the sounds of scrambling feet.
Baxter and Niffty swerving between peoples legs to get there first, Angel Dust for some godforsaken reason picking up Husk and quickly running with the cat under his arm to the table. Husk clawed at him in anger but Angel dismissed his display, laughing and holding him up more firmly, causing Husk to scowl. Vaggi and Charlie brought up the rear of the crowd of sinners.
As usual, Charlie was buzzing at the success of the hotel and even Vaggi had to crack a smile at everyones excitement. Although most sinners preferred their meals in their rooms, there was still a sizeable amount of people making their way over to the breakfast table. Which was why Alastor was so offended he managed to be sat next to Lucifer.
Worse still, he was at the end of the table, so he was quite literally only sat next to Lucifer. He would've liked to say that all his pleasure in the meal evaporated instantly. Certainly, that looked like what he wanted to say - ears folded back, his shadow hovering uncertaintly over the back of his chair, having physically moved his seat as far away from Lucifer's as possible...
But... there was something about his lover's so obviously nervous demeanour - something in the way he kept fidgeting - that made Alastor hold his tongue.
The Radio Demon remembered last night all too well, and moreover the way he had foolishly stumbled out of Lucifer's bedchamber without even waiting for his heartbeat to slow. He wondered if that had offended Lucifer, then immediately mentally shook himself..
Why do I care? He wondered. He would've liked to answer himself: I don't!
but that was not...
strictly speaking...
true.
And a part of him, a part he'd rather sell his soul to Vincent than express, knew it as well.
The praises of his food, especially from Charlie, fell on deaf ears. Alastor was far away in his thoughts at this point, and was only roused when a gentle hand was placed on his leg. His eye swivelled sharply to Lucifer, who wasn't looking at him, but still radiated an aura of nervousness.
And this time, Alastor hesitated before teleporting away.