Chapter Text
Adelaide LeBlanc had been waiting a long time for this day.
When she had awoken after Richard’s assault, Adelaide had considered herself lucky at first. Her vision hadn’t been in focus right away, her head still spinning from it all, that the white all around her seemed to be an indication of a hospital. That impression had only lasted as long as it took for the world to fully come into focus.
The giant golden gate, the ground made of clouds, and the sensation of wings on her back disabused her of any notion that she had survived.
For three horrible weeks, she had waited by those gates in terror for the day the small face of her little boy joined her long before his time should come. Alastor was forever a reminder of what life Richard had ‘lost’ when he had gotten her pregnant. Adelaide forever regretted telling him the news. The sweet man she had fallen for had disappeared with the weight of society’s judgement on them.
He turned to drink until the only thing left of the man she’d loved was his face. Alastor was barely two weeks old when he hit her the first time. After that, life had changed for the worst.
Now, at twenty-eight, she was dead and her sweet baby boy was alone with the monster that Adelaide had brought into their lives. For three weeks, Adelaide was sure that without her there, Richard would have nothing to stop him from doing more than just beating their little boy. That he would no more stop for Alastor as he had stopped for her.
Alastor never came. She let herself be pulled away as she settled in to wait for him. He must have discovered her emergency plan then. Found the money she’d secreted away to run for the last three years. Alastor was a smart boy. He would know to bide his time quietly before getting himself to safety.
Time passed and Adelaide let herself enjoy it as she waited to see the man her boy would have become. Eighty years she excitedly told them all of her little boy. Bragged about his intelligence and how it would get him farther in life than anyone would ever dare believe about a child with mixed heritage. The Winners around her had all nodded along. They all had family they waited for, truthfully.
In 1980, Adelaide walked herself with her note to the Reunion Office to submit her request. Her boy would be eighty now. That was more than enough for him to have arrived already. She dropped her page off as the cherub at the counter assured her that records would be searched to match any current names of Winners to her baby’s. If he wasn’t amongst them, he would be recorded so that when he did arrive, they would know immediately.
A year passed and nothing. Then two more. When it came time for Alastor to have turned one hundred should he be alive, Adelaide had made many a trip back to that office.
Each time, the cherub’s face fell at the sight of her.
She knew what he thought. She knew what they all thought. That her Alastor was in Hell. That he had sinned after her death and she would never see him again.
Out loud, she never agreed. She talked about the day that she would be reunited with her boy just as fervently as she had before. Told all the same stories of his younger years even as she watched the friends she made reunite with their own loved ones.
Until the only ones that listened were those whose eyes held the same desperation as her own eyes did.
Inside, she worried. She thought back of the way that her baby had always done his best to help her when Richard went a step too far. The way his face darkened as he looked at his father. She worried that with her death, her baby boy had done the one thing that would guarantee she never saw him again.
That he had killed Richard to avenge her.
So when the knock at her door came, Adelaide dropped the pot she was putting away after cleaning it. Her heart hammered in her chest as she quickly picked it up and shoved it in its proper home. Straightening her apron and fighting the smile threatening to split her face, Adelaide had almost floated to the door.
Literally. Even after so long, her wings tended to have a mind of their own when her emotions were strong.
“Hello!” she chirped as she opened the door, expecting to see either a strapping young man or perhaps a weathered old man.
Her smile froze in place at the angel who stood in front of her with a dejected look on her face.
There was a Seraphim at her door.
“Adelaide LeBlanc?” the regal angel asked in a soft voice.
“Yes,” she said, her stomach sinking to the floor.
“May I come in?” the Seraphim looked to the home just beyond Adelaide’s shoulder. “I have information about your son.”
Without a single word, Adelaide moved aside. As the Seraphim entered, she slowly shut the door.
Something told her this wasn’t the news that she had been praying for.
“Um, Al?” Charlie asked hesitantly as she looked at the new posts that were starting to flood her feed. Articles that were in support of her plans regarding opening the hotel to child Sinners were everywhere. There were thousands of demons commenting that they hoped she went through with it, that this part of her plan seemed far more feasible, that maybe she should turn the entire hotel into a place to house child Sinners instead of redemption.
While that had been what she had wanted, it was the other private messages that were trickling in that had her concerned.
Carmilla Carmine, Zeezee, Maestro, and a few other names that she was pretty sure belonged to other Overlords all had messages waiting for her in her public inbox. Well, Carmilla’s message was directly to her phone as Vaggie had passed on both their numbers after Carmilla had agreed to supply them the weapons to fight back against Heaven.
It was Carmilla’s message that had Charlie pausing.
It was an invitation. To the next Overlord meeting.
Tomorrow.
Alastor looked up from where he had been carefully putting together his puzzle. One of the newer items Charlie had brought to see if he would enjoy them. He’d already put four together in the last forty minutes.
Impressive considering two of those had been 1000 pieces. It was clear that whatever his age, Alastor was ridiculously smart.
“Yes?” he asked, interest flashing across his face as he glanced at her constantly vibrating phone. Unlike what he had said as an adult, Alastor didn’t seem to actually mind modern technology. He was actually surprisingly up to date on modern terms as well. Rosie had laughed hard when Charlie had first discovered that.
The child really had thought of everything when putting together his adult identity. Changing things just enough that no one knew what to expect from him at any time. It was no wonder that Angel (and her dad before Alastor’s glamour had been dropped) referred to him as a brat. For all that Alastor seemed not to understand what the term met, his adult persona was practically the embodiment of the term.
She was not going to be the one that explained it to him. And thank everything that Alastor hadn’t figured out he could simply search for the information online instead of relying on the adults around him to answer the questions he had about these things. Rosie had been right, there were some things that children really did not need to know.
“Is it good or bad that Carmilla Carmine just invited me to the Overlord meeting tomorrow?” she asked, deciding it was better just to get it over with.
Alastor’s ears perked as he sat up from where he’d been laying on the floor. “She what?” he asked, his eyes bright with interest as she slowly showed him her phone screen.
“Well then,” the child hummed, cocking his head to the side. “It seems that the Picture Box has let his coworker step into things. This screams Velvette’s work, really. Rosie, come see this.”
The Cannibal Overlord looked up from where she was knitting what might have been socks with hooves in mind. It hadn’t taken long to discover that Alastor was easily cold. The fire in his room was never allowed to be out for more than a few minutes at a time. If he was comfortable enough around someone (Charlie was still so happy to be part of that number), he preferred to wear heavier, knitted clothing instead of his more formal suit. Charlie suspected that Rosie was the one to have made all of that knitted clothing herself going by the familiar color of the yarn that she was using with her current project.
“What is it dears?” the Cannibal woman asked. Charlie carefully handed over her phone, aware that unlike Alastor, Rosie really did prefer to not use more modern technology. Still, she was clearly versed enough to scroll through the long list of messages that Charlie had received in the last hour.
Her smile faded as she read. “Oh dear,” she murmured, looking put out. Then she gave the smiling child next to her the side eye. “If I discover this is what you intended,” she warned him.
Alastor huffed at her. “Even I’m not that good,” he said seriously. “This screams Velvette’s work, really. I suppose that she must have talked sense into the Picture Box. Which is unfortunate though not the end of the world.”
“I’ve missed something,” Charlie sighed, accepting her phone back as Rosie extended her arm out. “What now?”
“Velvette seems to be taking point on things,” Alastor explained, moving to gather up his puzzle as he did. Not a good sign, really. Alastor had been intent on trying to finish the stack of puzzles that Charlie had brought in the time she usually spent within his room. That he was putting that plan to the side said that whatever it was Charlie had missed, it was big.
Too big for him to be distracted why he plotted.
“And that’s a bad thing,” Charlie slowly said. She didn’t really know much about either Velvette or Vox, if she was being honest. Not beyond what appeared in the mainstream media. Outside of that, her only source of information that wasn’t compromised was the two demons in front of her.
“It means that Velvette is calling our bluff,” Rosie rubbed her eyes. “She doesn’t buy that Alastor is really that injured. She’s much newer to Hell than Vox and more of an unknown. Social media hasn’t been around terribly long either, making it hard to predict for those of us more used to the older methods of information. This certainly will be a headache if she’s taking point.”
“It’s the same as newspapers,” Alastor rolled his eyes. “Everyone believes what they see on the news or in the gossip column. One person reads the wrong information and it spread as quickly as a wildfire on dry grass. Just faster and with much less standards. Still, she was smart to change their stance so fast. By throwing their support behind opening a safe haven for child Sinners, they’ve practically dared the other Overlords to do the same.”
Which was why Charlie was receiving these messages. She swallowed, not liking the knot of anxiety that was building in her chest.
“What does that mean?” she nervously tapped her fingers together.
“It means,” Alastor said, a genuinely pleased smile on his face that did not help her anxiety one bit. “That both Rosie and I need to go to that meeting with you.”
And just like that, Charlie knew that this was going to be a disaster.
“No,” Lucifer said seriously. “No, no, fuck no, definitely fucking not. There is no way in the known universe that you are going to that meeting!”
Damn it, he should have protested the plan from the very start. The pleased gleam in Alastor’s eyes told him that even if this hadn’t been the exact plan, the child had most definitely been aiming for something similar. He’d been far too accepting about his current limitations to their shared floor. Whether he was aiming to be involved physically or just at least be given access to his radio tower, Lucifer was sure that Alastor had planned to be directly involved over all.
From the unimpressed look on Rosie’s face, he wasn’t the only one that was suspicious of how this had turned out.
That was the thing about children, the smarter they were, the more stupid the stunts they pulled. Even if the way they went about getting there was fucking brilliantly manipulative. Alastor was probably the worst example. At least Charlie had mostly stuck to extortion of Mammon when she was acting out at this age. Mammon brought that on himself and it was funny. Not to mention the entire thing just made the Sin of Greed love her more for it.
Alastor? Alastor was a small bundle of chaos in the guise of a fawn. He’d spent a century convincing everyone in Hell that he was an adult and that had, unfortunately, left him with the impression that he could handle adult matters.
Which, to be fair, he could actually do that for the most part. The problem came with the fact that he didn’t have the maturity to look at a situation with a rational, adult mind and realize this was going to end very, very badly if he went through with it. So. Very. Badly.
How? Lucifer didn’t know, he had no idea who these Vees were before this entire mess and even now he was struggling with their names. What he did know was that their leader had some sort of obsession with the child in front of him and no way to know that going forward with whatever plan was in place would end very badly for him until he actually went through with it. If that happened, Alastor could be hurt or worse.
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Rosie bit out, clearly as unhappy as he was. “If he doesn’t go, it gives that interfering television the upper hand. He has video of Alastor’s fight with Adam. If he releases that because Alastor does not show up, it puts a target on Alastor’s back for all of Hell.”
Lucifer felt his eye twitch. That was just perfect, he growled as his temper flared. Of course, there was video that could put Alastor in a completely different type of danger.
“You could come with?” Charlie offered softly as Lucifer struggled to keep from cursing out loud. Had he already sworn both in front of and at the child? Yes. Did that mean that he needed to continue to do so now that he knew how old Alastor was? No. No it did not.
Instead, he considered that option. Charlie knew that he couldn’t technically do anything to harm the Sinner Overlords if they made a move but the Overlords didn’t. They had been extremely careful to keep that information away from Angel Dust once Alastor identified him as the most likely unwilling leak. Which Lucifer really did need to fix once he figured out how to do so properly. If things got bad, he could force the Overlords to stand down.
Beyond that, he could send all of their willing allies out of the place and take care of the problem himself should it be necessary. Teleport those he wanted to survive to the Hotel, move the problems to a random place in the building that he wasn’t sure the location of, and boom, no more Vee problem. Charlie would be unhappy, sure. That would suck. At the same time, well, he could always point out the fact that they had tried it her way first.
Bad habit be damned when there was a child under Lucifer’s protection in danger. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
(For the most part. He probably should have asked permission for the apple, see: children in Hell and genocide by Heaven as examples to why that had been a bad policy there, oh boy.)
“No,” Alastor growled, ears folding back. “Taking him would be a terrible message! It would completely undermine yourself as a party able to stand on your own.”
“That’s if they know I’m there,” Lucifer said, before he shifted his form into that of a tiny snake. “See?” he asked, rather smug at the way that Alastor looked at him in consideration.
“That could work,” the fawn cocked his head thoughtfully. “If I carry you instead of Charlie, if you’re discovered, it won’t reflect on her standing. I have a reputation to be easily convinced of something entertaining enough. Secreting the King of Hell into an Overlord meeting behind his daughter’s back would be very much in character.”
Lucifer did should probably be suspicious about the easy agreement. He should probably question what motives Alastor had that would have the fiercely independent child agreeing to not just allow Lucifer to come in secret, but to be the one hiding Lucifer on his person.
“Whatever you are plotting,” Rosie crossed her arms at the child sternly. “It better not end up in a fight. So help me, I will find a proper way to ground you if you end up in a fight because of this mess, Alastor! I do not care if I have to involve the King to get it done!”
So he wasn’t the only one suspicious, that was good. Alastor made a face at his caretaker. She narrowed her eyes back at him dangerously, something impressive considering that she only had voids where her eyes should have been. For whatever reason, Hell seemed determined to force those damned with Cannibalism to have no eyes. It had started back around the twelfth century, if he remembered correctly. Since then, new Cannibals always had the same traits.
Those who picked up cannibalism in Hell were the only ones spared.
“Fine,” Alastor growled, seemingly discarding whatever plan he was cooking up. “But my point still stands. His coming on Charlie would be seen as a sign of weakness. Carmilla is much more likely to be understanding of an overprotective parent if Charlie manages to act like she doesn’t know he’s there.”
“Glad we’re all in agreement,” Lucifer shifted back to his normal form. “Now, let’s get a good look at your magic levels. I want to make sure that we aren’t going to do too much damage to you before we go any further in planning.”
The dirty look that was sent his way was so worth it. As if Lucifer was going to forget that tidbit.
Ha!
He wasn’t born yesterday.
Alastor knew he had won the moment that Lucifer’s face twisted after the Devil was finished examining him. The grumbled confirmation that Alastor was well enough to sustain the glamour was the last part of his plan that he needed.
Rosie really should know better than to think that he only ever had one plot going at a time. While he had been hoping that Vox would call his bluff, there had been a few possibilities on how the television would do so. The most likely, if Vox had continued on his own, was to steer the smear campaign away from Charlie and onto Alastor instead. Provoke him into coming out of a hiding by the way of the media.
With Velvette stepping in, an interesting turn of events though not completely out of character, things were far more interesting. The play to bring Charlie into the field of influence of the other Overlords truly was a nice touch. It fit with Vox’s image of ‘perfection’ that the demon was so intent on keeping. With Angel Dust, Vox likely knew all about the angel’s claiming Sir Pentious’ redemption.
What they didn’t know was that proof was a mere handful of days away. Lucifer had somehow managed to use Alastor (something that the Devil had thought Alastor would find enjoyable-nice to know that the Devil wasn’t completely deluded as to Alastor’s rather unhinged form of humor) into agreeing to provide proof to Hell after a single week. Of which they were already three days into. By the time the meeting was over, there would be a mere three days until Charlie could go public with her news.
Involving the other Overlords now would only make that far easier. In fact, it would give them an edge to this game instead of the loosing hand Vox seemed to believe they would have.
The Picture Box always was too caught up in the thought of his own superiority to remember that he was not the only shark in this sea. Alastor, though young, had been playing this game far longer than the Television Overlord. As a child, he had taken down those that would have seen him as their prey while forcing those left behind to cower in fear of his wrath. Seven years away had done little to dim the fear that Hell held of him, not truly. Demons never really forgot the image of someone that could end them as surely as an exorcist could.
It was so very interesting that Vox was making a play against the royal family so openly. Alastor had musing over the idea since Charlie’s interview. There was something else that was going on here that he was missing. Something in play that Vox was intending on using Alastor for.
Why else would they be so interested in getting Alastor to come out of hiding? Why poke and prod to get him to respond? A plan was in progress, he just did not have enough information as to what it could possibly be. Surely using Charlie was beyond foolish. Lucifer had more than proven to Sinners and Heaven alike that he could trounce any threat with barely any effort. Why poke the King of Hell by targeting the Princess?
So many questions with so few answers to be found while trapped on this floor of the hotel. If he could just find himself in a room with at least one of the Vees, he may just be able to puzzle out what their goal here really was. Then the games could really begin!
The first step of which would be getting himself to that meeting.
It was unlikely that Lucifer would go unnoticed by the gather Sovereign Overlords. Rosie seemed to have forgotten that Zestial was the one to lay the warding on Carmilla’s meeting room. Now that Alastor knew that Zestial had a celestial bloodline like he apparently had (how dare she leave them-), it stood to reason that those wards would certainly detect the King’s presence.
He had a sneaking suspicion that Zestial had always been aware of Alastor’s own heritage, if Alastor himself had not been. It did certainly explain why the much older Overlord had always been so cordial with him despite Carmilla’s reluctance to even have Alastor around at all. Zestial was unlikely to hide the presence of the King from his closest friend/ally.
What Carmilla knew, so would Vox. Alastor had been able to feel the presence of Vox’s cameras all throughout her building when he attended that last Overlord meeting. Picture Box would take it as a sign that Alastor really was that weakened. He wouldn’t believe that Alastor would allow such a thing unless he thought he needed the firepower.
Alastor had been thorough in convincing Vox that he did not believe in friendship in Hell. Which he didn’t, truthfully. Or limitedly believed in friendship.
Friends in the way that demons defined the term simply existed there to be useful. Mimzy was his ‘friend’ and she was rather obvious in the way that she considered him as protection and little else. Whenever she came around, it was always with trouble following close behind her. Harold had claimed to be his ‘friend’ only to attempt to stab Alastor in the back the second the Radio Demon had turned away from him. The same thing had happened with Alice, Trenton, and Ronald. Vincent had been his last attempt before the Hotel at ‘friendship’.
That had ended when Alastor realized that Vincent just saw him as another target to move up in the world. Why else would he have proposed that partnership? The man was quite clear with how he had reached the top when he was alive every time that he talked about his life on Earth. Alastor would not be his next victim. Alastor would never be a victim again.
The closest he had to a ‘friend’ in Hell was Rosie. But Rosie wasn’t his friend. She was his caretaker. That was different and far more real. She had every opportunity since he had arrived to take advantage of him. Instead, she hovered when he was injured, grounded him when his plans put him in danger (unsuccessfully) and hid him away when the Exterminations started so that he would be safe.
Charlie…Charlie wasn’t a friend either. Alastor wasn’t really sure what she was, if he was being honest. She was just…Charlie. She’d been different since the very start of his arrival at the hotel. Real, naïve, and far too nice to have been born a demon. She didn’t even treat him like a baby now that she knew how old he was. Instead, she seemed thrilled at the idea of spending time with him even more than she had when she’d thought him an adult.
Games, puzzles, his own set of toys and crayons. Charlie was not a caretaker, not like Rosie, but she wasn’t a friend either. A secret third thing he didn’t really have a word for.
And Vincent, Vox, was trying to use her for something. Something that Alastor didn’t know. That was…that was unacceptable.
Which meant that Vox needed to be reminded that Charlie had more standing than someone like he could handle. A reminder that was small, in the shape of a snake, hiding in one of Alastor’s pockets. The tiny Devil’s presence would be the kick in the pants that Vox needed to remember that he wasn’t infallible. That provoking the King of Hell by using the man’s daughter in his plans was a bad idea.
Plans within plans, he oh so loved playing these games. It was far better than hiding away in Cannibal Town or this floor of the hotel. Alastor hated being bored.
As long as this didn’t end in a fight, where he would face Rosie’s ire, Alastor would have a wonderful game to keep himself from boredom for quite a while.