Archive of Our Own

Alastor never knew what freedom was. Not when he was alive, not when he landed in Hell.

When he was alive, he suffered at the hands and control of his father, who would've killed him hadn't Alastor done so first. He hit, punched, kicked, and/or berated the boy on a daily basis, expecting nothing, but at the same time, everything from the boy he considered useless and a waste of breath.

He could send the boy to school covered in bruises and wouldn't even think twice about it. The teachers never noticed, never spotted the black and blue that littered the small frame of their student.

The man wanted food, but never wanted Alastor to use the kitchen.

The man wanted money, but hated when Alastor was working.

The man wanted Alastor to have a run errands, but hated when he took to long.

The man wanted Alastor to have a education, but hated when he went to school.

The man wanted Alastor to live but hated when he did.

The man wanted Alastor to run, but absolutely despised when he did.

Alastor finally decided that he had enough after he turned eighteen, shooting his father in cold blood when the new adult arrived home from his job and immediately got yelled at for being late.

To commit such a act, Alastor had grabbed a gun, a small revolver, his father's, which felt fitting for the occasion. Killed with his own gun. Luckily, his father had bought bullets, so Alastor wasted no time loading the gun.

Alastor had stood in front of his father as the man slept, having passed out after yelling at the boy. Alastor had no hesitation when he pointed the gun at his father's heart, pulling the trigger, than at his head, again pulling the trigger. The man never woke. Never even cracked his eyes open.

When he arrived in Hell, he arrived quite roughly, landing in the middle of the street, almost getting run over by some new motor vehicle of the time, not like he ever paid attention to such technology. He was quite disoriented, but not scared, nor frightened, nor unsure of the situation. He knew it awaited him after death, he wasn't that stupid.

As he was checking himself over, he noticed that he resembled that of a deer, which in his eyes was just dandy. He had long, black ,laws on his hands, tall, red ears atop his head, complete with small, black antlers, and was wearing nothing but the clothing he wore when he died, a white button up that had gotten blood from his newest, and last, victim, and black pants. He was disappointed and upset to find that he also had tuffets of red fur around his body, in the middle of his chest, on his shoulders, and on his elbows and knees.

Just as he was finished gathering his bearings however and went to stand up, the motor vehicle that had almost run him over had backed up. Five sinners jumped out, chains, a muzzle, and knives in hand.

He tried to get up to run, but stumbled over his feet, which he quickly found to have turned into deer hooves, making it all the more inconvenient to the situation.

The sinners grabbed him, holding him down, tying his wrists up with the chains behind his back, strapping the muzzle to his face, fighting him as he struggled under their grasp, trying to bite the sinners, trying to kick and scratch, growling and making the smallest bleats of pain that their rough treatment has caused. They paid no mind to his verbal noises or physical struggle, continuing to commit their actions.

"This one's a feisty one!" One sinner had said.

"Well, sometimes they like the feisty ones! Means they are all the more dangerous! All the more able to fight! The bigger profit for them and us!" Another said.

"Watch out for his teeth! My God, they're huge!" A third said as he locked the muzzle around Alastor's face.

A fourth sinner stood in front of the pinned deer and sinners atop him, kneeling down to look at Alastor, lifting his chin up.

"You're gonna make us a pretty penny." He said, a sinister tone in his voice and following chuckle. "Get 'im in the van." The sinner instructed the others.

The sinners stood up Alastor, watching as he stumbled and tripped over his knee feet, making it a point to mention how weak and pathetic he was, walking on those. They lifted him up and threw him into the back of the van, making no point to tie him up inside, leaving Alastor to move around as he pleased, even if it could hurt him. The sinners shut and locked the doors of the back of the van with a chain and padlock.

Alastor was now frightened. Sure, he hadn't expected a warm welcome into the new world, but never expected this to happen! What was going to become of him? Where was he being relocated? Was anyone going to rescue him? Who was he going to be with? How long was he going to be with these sinners? He stayed curled in the corner of the van, shaking anxiously, fiddling and struggling with the chains, trying to see if he could get it off so he could escape to no luck. He thrashed his head, seeing if he could get the muzzle off to the same result.

He was quickly reminded of how powerless he was life, how he couldn't do anything that he wanted and here, it seemed to be the same, so he quickly succumbed to the results, knowing it's what his captors had wanted. He'd let anyone do what they wanted and knew that they would still be dissatisfied with his performance, no matter what he did to try to prove otherwise. And while he was able to gain his freedom in life, he wasn't sure if he would here. He closed his eyes, feeling the bumps of the ground lull him to sleep.

~~~~~

When he awoke again, it was to the sound of rattling chains being taking off the van doors. He remained in the corner, seeing as he had felt safe up until that point. The door swung open and two sinners stepped inside, anxiously approaching the previously feisty deer sinner. They grabbed his arms tightly, making Alastor flinch and tense up, which only made them chuckle to each other.

They lifted up the weak deer, having him still stand on shaky legs, carrying-no, dragging him out of the van, his feet scraping against the floor of the van before hitting the ground of the pavement, finding it to be better than if he were to attempt to walk again, not wanting to humiliate himself. The sinners were quick to notice this behavior, believing it to be a act of defiance, with one hitting Alastor behind the head.

"Walk properly!" The sinner who hit him on the head yelled.

Alastor picked up his hooves and attempted to walk, still stumbling over his own feet, which pleased the sinners. As he was dragged around, he took a look at his surroundings. The buildings were small, with the occasional two or three story making an appearance. The colors of the area were muted or dull, which he took a liking to. The sinners around paid no mind to what was happening, just seeing it as a normal Tuesday. The area almost reminded him of where he grew up in Louisiana. Despite the circumstances he was under at that moment, he was happy to reminisce on his time alive for once, missing the area he grew up in.

The sinners carried him down a flight of stairs to a business. The door sign said "Barbershop" but Alastor expected it to be anything but. He door was pushed open, the bell left above it jingling. While there were signs that a barbershop had once been run, the chairs and materials used were left to rust and dust.

He was carried to a room, a office. He read the sign on the door as the sinner to his left knocked.

Francis Hillsburro

Boss

Alastor tensed, but still didn't put up a fight. The door swung open by a lady who allowed them to walk into the small office. At the desk in the room sat who Alastor presumed to be Francis Hillsburro.

"Henry, Loka, to what do I owe the pleasure?" The man asked, cigar hanging out of his mouth, a grin on his face as he set down his pen, handing the paper he was working on over to the lady, who took it out of the room. He made eye contact with Alastor, standing up, revealing his large stature.

The sinner to his right, Loka, chuckled.

"We got some goods for ya Mr. Hillsburro. This one's a feisty one; he put up quite the fight when we caught 'im! Look at his sharp teeth! I'm sure you could line up a buyer for him! He'd be worth so much! He'd do pretty good in the ring too!" Loka explained.

Buyer?

Ring?

What's happening to me?

Alastor's eyes got wide and his ears flattened against his head as Mr. Hillsburro got close to him, lifting his chin up to continue eye contact. He noticed Alastor's sharp teeth, seeing how they shone through the muzzle. He stepped back, pulling the cigar out of his mouth, blowing the smoke into Alastor's face, making him release a small bleat. But he still didn't fight.

"You said this one was feisty. He don't look too feisty to me. All he did was whine when I blew smoke at him. Quite unlike a usual feisty one." He remarked, turning his attention to the sinners.

"Oh, trust me! He fought earlier! I'm sure he'll fight once you put him in the ring with some of your stronger sinners! There's no way he won't try to protect himself!" The sinner to the left, Henry suggested.

"No, no, I trust you boys. I do. I'm sure I can line up a few buyers to look at this pretty face. How much you boys think he's worth?" Mr. Hillsburro asked.

"Eh, give or take, I'd say, oh, 10k? Maybe more?" Loka suggested.

Mr. Hillsburro nodded. "Since you found me such a interesting fighter, I'm willing to up your pay for this one. How about this? I sell him for a good 20k, and you each get 5k, and I profit the rest?"

Alastor felt dizzy. He could hardly believe his ears. They were selling him? Now he really started to get anxious, starting to tremble. He had heard it earlier when the sinners were conversing, but he didn't think they were serious! He could feel his breathing quickening. He had to get out! No, he couldn't leave! But he craved freedom! But at the same time, felt trapped under the situation. Mr. Hillsburro stepped closer to the trembling deer.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have a new home soon. No one would pass up the chance to purchase such a pretty face." He said, blowing more smoke in the deer's face, now making his cough as his mouth was open. He turned to the two other sinners, nodding.

"You know where to take him." He said, sitting down at his desk, getting back to paperwork. The two sinners turned around and carried Alastor out of the room, walking into another, bigger, longer room.

This long room was lined with cages, some big, some small. Some of the cages were empty, but most were full, it's occupants being captured sinners, new and old, pepped and ready to be sold to a new buyer. There were small packets of information attached to the sides of the cage, including price, age, number, and more. Most sinners had checked out, maybe even dissociated in the corners of their cages, curled up in a protective ball. Some were fiddling with their chains or muzzle, unable to get either off. It was completely silent in the room, except for the occasional rattle of a chain or the click of feet across the floor from those who had gathered the sinners.

They suddenly stopped at a empty cage and Henry unlocked the door, helping Loka push Alastor inside, quickly locking it. He too, like the other sinners, took to the corner, curling up into a ball.

~~~~~

It would be weeks before Alastor would be bought, not that he'd been able to keep track of time. There were no windows in the room nor clocks.

He had woken up to the sound of Mr. Hillsburro and the voice of another individual walking around, who was glancing into the cages, at the information, finding who they wished to purchase. He had, so far, brushed off every other option that Mr. Hillsburro had brought up, not liking them due to their age, color, personality, the works.

Just as Alastor opened his eyes, he saw the buyer standing in front of his cage, looking inside at the deer. The buyer was tall, dressed in a black suit, spoke respectfully and with intent. He started to read the papers on the front of the cage.

"What's the status of this one?" The buyer asked, shocking both Alastor and Mr. Hillsburro.

"Fairly new, was brought in a few weeks ago. Just landed in Hell as he was captured. My workers said he was feisty and put up a good fight when captured. No one had really been interested in him due to him being a deer and thought that despite him being feisty, he wouldn't fight well. But just look at him! Look at those sharp claws and huge hooves! I'm sure he can do well for you!" Mr. Hillsburro explained, hoping that this would be a successful sale.

"He does look good, how much are you asking for?" The buyer asked.

"20k. Not willing to bargain on him due to his qualities."

"Very well, I will take him." The buyer said, satisfied.

"Perfect! I will have my workers prepare him for you! Come along and we can discuss paperwork!" Mr. Hillsburro said, arm around the buyer's shoulder as he led him back to his office.

Alastor sat there in his cage, ears flattened against his head. Being with one unknown person, in a cage, was one thing, but being transferred to another unknown individual with the intention of having him be a fighter and exploited was another. He shook anxiously, curling into more of a ball in the corner. He wanted out, but didn't feel like he could leave.

Loka and Henry were put in charge of handling Alastor as they were the only ones who knew how. Loka unlocked the cage and helped Henry drag Alastor out. They carried him though the room the opposite direction of the bosses office to another, completely separate room. Inside was clean clothes, collars, leashes, different types of restraints, a table and a bathtub.

Alastor hadn't had a bath in who knows how long and was a bit pleased when he was placed inside, after having his tattered clothes practically ripped off him, feeling the warm water run down his back from the shower head. He leaned into the water, feeling the relief across his face. Henry and Loka had grabbed soap, rubbing it into his hair and tuffets fur and while he didn't like his ears being touched, he had found out, he let them do it.

The relief was gone in an instant as he was dragged out of the bathtub, roughly dried with a towel that he assumed was shared with many sinners and hadn't been changed in a while.

He was then dragged over to the table, having his hair and fur brushed with a brush that he also assumed was used by many sinners. He was given a red collar with golden diamonds around it, complete with red leash. Loka held his leash while Henry undid the chains from his hands behind his back.

Alastor pulled his arms forward, feeling his bruised and sore wrists. He looked down at his claws. He could escape, he could leave, he could fight now, but he also felt that he still couldn't at the same time, feeling trapped in the situation. He looked up at the two sinners.

"You even think about trying anything and there's gonna be enough blood on this floor to feed the Cannibal Colony." Loka threatened, which didn't do much to the deer, just made him shrug in response.

He felt it'd be better to be dead anyway.

"Here." Henry said, throwing him a pair of black pants, walking over to the table of restraints, looking around. "Put them on, we can't have you walking around completely naked."

Alastor caught the pants as they were thrown at him, quickly putting them on. When he was done, Henry grabbed his wrists, putting them back in their previous position, right behind his back, but this time they were handcuffed together.

Henry grabbed a hold of Alastor's upper arms and Loka keep a firm hand on the leash as he was led out of the room, down the long room with cages, and into Mr. Hillsburro's office, where he was finalizing the paperwork with the buyer.

The buyer finished up the last of the paperwork, grabbed the file containing Alastor's information, and turned to the two sinners, Loka giving him the leash to his new purchase and Henry giving him the key to the handcuffs and muzzle. He thanked the sinners and Mr. Hillsburro, walking out of the building, leash and Alastor in hand.

He took Alastor to a car, a small car, putting him in the backseat, locking the leash onto the assist handle above him so he wouldn't try escaping, not that he was going to try.

The buyer got into the driver's seat and started up the car, pulling out from the side of the road and starting to drive away from the building.

Alastor looked out the window as the man drove, admiring the sights he hadn't seen since he fell down to Hell in the first place, not that it had changed much since he fell. He just hadn't had the chance to really take in all that was around him before. He watched buildings go by, sinners walk around, some getting killed randomly, some being the ones that killed. He watched the clouds go by and the birds fly around. After a bit of seeing the same sights over and over, he leaned his head against the window, feeling the cold glass against his cheek as he fell asleep.

~~~~~

He awoke to the sound of a click from the lock coming off the assist handle. The buyer took the leash and led him out and to another building. One that looked surprisingly better then the one he had been in previously. The building was clean, dressed in bright red, standing out among the dirty red colored buildings around the area. What caught him off guard was that there were no signs on the door, the window, or above the door. There were lights, but not in the front room, but rather, in the back.

The buyer opened the door and led him through the front room, nothing remarkable of note. It was simply empty, void of most anything, even dust, so it was kept clean just like the rest of the building, just not in use. The buyer yanked on the leash, bring Alastor back to the present, Alastor unaware that he had stopped to stare at a mirror that had been left behind, seeing the sad state of his body. The muzzle. The handcuffs. The leash. He felt ashamed and embarrassed about himself, his ears having flattened against his head upon seeing what he looked like, not having had a chance to do so since landing. He felt he could cry, but knew he wouldn't.

The buyer yanked on his leash more, pulling Alastor close to his body, leading him to the backroom where the man was greeted with yells and cheers, pats on the back and questions of where he had been.

"Hey, where ya been man? It's been so long since ya showed your face back 'ere!" One exclaimed.

"You buy yourself a better fighter or is this gonna be a repeat of the last fight you had?" Another asked, earning hearty laughs from all around.

"Now, now, gentlemen, you underestimate me! I'm not one to walk away from a fight that quickly, you know!" The man replied. "I have a new fighter! One that has been labeled as feisty and was said to put up quite a fight when captured!"

Everyone started to stare at Alastor, causing him to look down at the ground, absolutely humiliated by all the eyes on him.

"He don' look too feisty to me." One commented.

"You sure he's gonna fight back and give some good entertainment?" Another asked.

"Oh, I'm positive! I have high hopes for this one! Grab Teetsi! He here today? That'll get this one up and going!" The man answered, pride and confidence in his voice. He dragged Alastor into the ring, unlocking the handcuffs and muzzle before quickly leaving, believing that he would get hurt by the deer if he stayed longer than he needed.

Another sinner brought in Tetse, a big, beefy, gruff, livid, strong, scarred fox sinner, who had been a fighter for nearly two decades, having been able to win any fight that he was put in, which made it nearly impossible for him to have many opponents as the owners thought that he would kill their fighters. Putting Alastor in the ring with someone like him was bound to get him killed, but the people wanted entertainment, cheering on the fight from all around. Teetsi's owner undid his muzzle from his face and chains from his wrists, having been able to break out of handcuffs, which resulted in the death of his previous owner.

A gunshot rang out, signaling the start of the fight. All it reminded Alastor of was the night he shot his father, how he had to kill him to protect himself from further harm.

That's what fueled him to do what he did for the next few, quick minutes.

His eyes went wide, his ears still straight up in the air, pointed toward the fox. He extended his claws, heading straight for Teetsi, who too, ran toward him with the same determination and rage. Alastor slid through the fox's legs, managing to get behind him, using his strong deer hooves to jump onto his back, clawing at it with his sharp claws before attacking his face, going toward his eyes and ripping one out.

Teetsi tried to fight back, grabbing at him, growling, running around blindly, even trying to slam Alastor between him and the wall to no avail, the deer was way too quick.

Alastor moved around his body with agility, scratching, kicking, biting, and climbing onto Teetsi, causing injury after injury. Teetsi collapsed, but Alastor wasn't finished. He clawed at the body, pulling out organs and covering himself with blood.

The crowd cheered, egging him on, which continued to fuel him, giving him a strange sense of euphoria and having never gotten such praise from anyone before, it felt...good and he absolutely craved it.

After a bit, he had completely tuned out the sounds around him, only going for the body that laid in front of him. He didn't hear the gun ending the fight, he didn't hear the yell of his owner, nor the crowd.

He didn't hear the stomps of his owner who suddenly grabbed him from behind, stabbing a needle into his neck, which soon rendered him unconscious. As he went out, he felt the muzzle and handcuffs go back on by a unknown individual as he finally came back to reality. He heard the mumbled voice of his owner, whispering into his ear.

"You did good. You did good. You're done. You're done." It wasn't anger, it wasn't punishment, it was praise, albeit told sternly and with a hint of anger in it and Alastor felt a weird sense of comfort in it. He leaned against his owner, his eyes fluttering shut once more, having gotten one last look at his opponent.

~~~~~

And that's how it went for the best several decades he remained in the care of his owner. He was made to fight daily, hardly getting any time to rest, only about for two to three hours a night, in a cold, hard cage that was kept in another room of the building, surrounded by other fighters, but kept far away due to him being so vicious, before being woke up by the sound of a bat hitting the bars, startling him awake, knowing it was time to start working. There were no clocks, no calenders, no windows anywhere he went so he could never tell what the date or time was and he was never told.

He was hardly given food, usually given scraps by his owner or those around him, having needed to earn it based on his performance that day, rarely ever getting a full meal. Sometimes, if he was really lucky, he would get a dessert, usually a small cookie or cupcake, even though he never was one to care for sweet treats.

He wasn't well groomed in the slightest, always having some messy hair, in addition to it falling out all the time from stress, a dirty body that hadn't been cleaned properly. Sure he was hosed down behind the building, as were the rest of the fighters, but was never properly scrubbed down or had the matts brushed out of his hair and tuffets of fur.

When he was put in the ring, as soon as that gun went off, he was gone, attacking and killing more sinners than even Teetsi himself, who despite his own vicious nature, knew when to stop and never went too far, sometimes. Alastor earned the nickname "The Fawn Death", both for his subservient nature outside the ring, that of a naïve fawn and his dangerous nature once he was in the ring, making death follow him wherever he went. And once he was announced to all the other sinners surrounding the ring that he, oh, the face of the other owner who's fighter they just put in would drop. It was almost laughable to see, really. No one daring to set foot in the ring with him.

He got hurt in the ring, yes, but it was usually minimal and he would heal quickly. He only occasionally got hurt much worse and even then, he still fought. If anything, majority of his injuries stemmed from his owner, who would stab, kick, punch, and berate whenever he was away from the public, about his performance, about his techniques, about anything he could. But still, Alastor stayed, knowing that he'd get praise when he did good. He was just a fighter after all, nothing more.

Due to Alastor always going to far in the ring, always killing his opponents, the staff had sedatives on them at all times so they could get him out without getting hurt and so they could prepare the next fight. Alastor would usually wake up by the time the following fight had ended and was shoved back into the ring with no hesitation where the same would occur, over and over again until the sinners decided to close up shop for the day.

As the decades went by, with new sinners coming and going, he would still fight, still kill, still be cheered on by the sinners surrounding the ring, which only strengthened his resolve to continue to fight. He loved the praise, craved it daily and felt euphoric, almost getting high from it. His fighting and praise kept him alive, and that's all he felt he could ever need.

One individual however, was anything but cheering him on.

~~~~~

One day in the late 2020s, Lucifer had called a meeting at his office. Charlie, his daughter and her girlfriend, Vaggi, arrived as well as their friend, Angle Dust. He sat at his desk, contemplating how he was to go about a certain problem that had been slipping through the cracks of Hell for over two centuries now. He instructed them to sit.

"Now, I'm sure you are all aware of the sinner fighting rings that are littered around Hell and how illegal they are, yes? Unwilling participants forced into rings, forced to fight for a profit. No contracts involved. Just force. For the past few decades, we have been cracking down on their operations and gave done a fairly good job disbanding the businesses, but there has been one that I had been hearing rumors about, about how their fighter "The Fawn Death" who has never lost a fight, always killing his opponents and practically dismembering them. It's said that he's been in the same ring for nearly a century.

I took a trip to this rumored fighting ring, and was absolutely appalled at what I saw. I indeed saw "The Fawn Death" giving his all in the ring, and I had arrived just in time to see the aftermath of his performance. After he had killed his opponent, he was quickly subdued by a sedative and dragged out of the ring, thrown in a crate so he could sleep off the sedative.

I also saw the physical state he was in. He had wounds, old ones and new ones, scattered around his body. I can't say for certain if they were caused by other fighters or other abuse caused outside the ring. Safe to say, I felt I had all the evidence I needed to prepare a attack on this business, to rescue and re-home the other fighters, leaving no mercy for those who encouraged such behavior. Not here. Not like the other rings. This one was different." Lucifer explained, hands shaking as he retold what he saw, embarrassed to having been so blind to the business for over two centuries. He continued, sharing a plan.

"Now, I have created a plan. I made blueprints of the building and figured out that there were two points of entry. One in the front, one in the back. Two of us will go through the front, me and Vaggi. Charlie and Angel will go through the back and we will meet in the middle, where the ring is held. We will have guns at our disposal and will shoot anyone that isn't a fighter. Once Charlie and Angel bust through the back, lock, block, and keep the back door from being opened.

With that being said, all the noise will probably frighten all the fighters and may cause a reaction out of them, being so used to the gun as a starting noise to a fight, but we can't use anything else that would do the same amount of damage. The fighters that aren't in cages may attack, they may not, be prepared for anything. Outside in the front, I will have many ambulances stationed, all run by Belphegor, who has been willing to supply them to us for this operation.

She will also supply us with sedatives, many, many sedatives, as those fighters have been trained well, and can be dangerous. You will need to sedate them as quickly as you can if you are approached by any of them. It's for your safety and ours. Belphagor's employees will come collect them to transport them to the hospital where they will receive treatment. They will also be armed with guns and sedatives, having been instructed to take out those who aren't fighters as well. Keep and eye out for "The Fawn Death" because he is by far, the most dangerous. He's bright red, tall, slender, and quick. If any of you get attacked by him, call me. I will handle him. Any questions?" Lucifer explained, having thought this plan out clearly, wanting this to end this business as quickly as possible.

No one had any questions whatsoever, which was fine with him. He wanted to get this show on the road.

"Perfect, we go tonight. Load up." He instructed firmly, leading them out of the room.

Everyone followed him out of his office, heading to the weapons room. Words were continued to not be said as the four grabbed revolvers, bullets, and protective gear. What could they say? What was going to happen? Who knows what they'd be up again? Only Lucifer could take a guess.

Once they got their gear, he led them out to the van they used when ambushing operations. Angel and Vaggi sat in the back, Lucifer in the driver's seat, Charlie in the passenger. It was completely silent as they drove to the building, so quiet in fact that you could hear a pin drop.

Arriving at the building, they noticed Belphegor, all her employees, and various ambulances had arrived first, sirens off as not to alarm anyone inside. Lucifer stepped out of the van first, walking up to Belphagor, who had four bags in hand. She handed one to each member of the group.

"Sedatives. Hard ones that will leave them unconscious for hours. Perfect for us and you. There's ten in each bag. Use wisely." She explained, soon motioning to her other employees. "I have prepped them with them same equipment that you have requested, revolvers, bullets, protective gear, and the same amount of sedatives. They will be helping you all throughout the operation and know your plan as I filled them in."

"Great." Lucifer said, signaling for Angel and Charli to sneak around the back, which they quickly obeyed. Lucifer called over Charlie and Belphegor's employees, preparing to kick the front door down, and by golly, that's exactly what they did, with gave the same signal to Vaggi and Angel to kick down the back door, which they complied. Yells quickly followed.

"They have guns! Shit!" One yelled.

"Guns! Perfect! Unlock the fighters! They'll know what to do!" Another smartly suggested, running into the caged-lined room, unlocking each cage one by one, alerting the fighters inside, who heard the gunshots go off outside the room. As expected, most took off running to defend themselves, but some remained inside their cages, refusing to move.

Gunshots continued to go off, hitting the patrons necks, heads, chest, arms, leg, back, wherever the rescue crew could get a bullet in. They tried to leave, obviously, but were quickly blocked by some of Belphagor's employees who had stayed outside in case of any stragglers tried to escape, where they were quickly shot on sight.

The fighters took off after whoever they didn't recognize, Lucifer Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Belphegor's employees, attacking them in anyway they knew how, kicking, biting, punching, and running around. Whenever they leapt onto someone who was trying to rescue them, they were quickly sedated, albeit not easily, putting up a fight until they fell unconscious and brought outside, where they would be transported to the hospital.

All would be going well for an hour or two, patrons being killed, fighters being sedated and transported, and unfortunately, Belphagor lost a few employees to the fighters who hadn't been able to be sedated on the first try, having put up quite a fight.

~~~~~

Alastor too had been putting up a fight. Once the first ring of the gun had been heard by the deer, he abandoned his place in the ring, going after anyone he didn't recognize. He attacked employees, ending up killing a few as they couldn't sedate him fast enough. He even unknowingly attacked some of the dead bodies of those who had watched him fight, unable to tell the difference between their corpses and those of the employees.

He had whipped his head around at one point during the fight, looking for his next victim and his eyes landed on the cracked back door. Angel had forgotten to close it all the way and no one had thought of run out the door. He started slowly making his way toward the door, curious about what was outside. He hadn't left the building in a nearly a century. He had forgotten what it was like to not be forced into fighting. He didn't know what to think of his current predicament. There were people running around, shooting guns at the patrons, sedating his fellow fightmates, and removing everyone from the building, dead or sedated. And here this door was, cracked open, moonlight shining through. He pushed the door open more, looking outside, smelling freedom for the first time in his life. He was getting ready to run out when he felt arms wrapped around his stomach and a prick in his neck. He tried to whip his body around, immediately feeling dizzy and weak. His legs went limp and he was slowly lowered to the floor. He heard a voice speak to him. One that, while feeling familiar to his owner, felt different. He leaned into the body of the one who held him as he passed out.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Bambi. I'm sorry." The voice had said, lulling him to sleep.

~~~~~

By the time hour five rolled around, everyone was exhausted. Laying amongst all the dead bodies of the patrons were the sedated and injured fighters, that were quickly being loaded into ambulances and rushed to the hospital. Some of Belphegor's employees, Charlie, Vaggi, Lucifer, and Angel were also being rushed to the hospital to treat their wounds, with Lucifer having put up a fight with Belphegor before he was transported.

"No, I'm not separating from him. He's been through too much." Lucifer argued, clutching onto Alastor tightly as he held him up bridal style.

"You're injured. He's injured. You both need treatment, him more than you, I need to take him." Belphegor had argued back, sighing as Lucifer had stepped back just as she had reached out to take the unconscious deer. " All the fighters have been through a lot. What makes this victim any different?"

"He just is. It was how I found him. He looked so content when he saw the moonlight for what seemed like the first time in his life. I nearly cried as I sedated him, having despised taking him away from his freedom that he deserved." Lucifer explained, glaring at the sin.

She sighed again. "Very well, you've convinced me. You may ride in the same ambulance as him, with me accompanying you and when we get to the hospital, I will personally see to your wounds and have you stay in the room that we will have him occupy so you can stay close. Might be best for him anyway. He's "The Fawn Death", right? You said you heard he's been around for nearly a century. Probably traumatized to bits. Maybe he'll recover better with someone there." She said, loading them both into the nearest ambulance, turning on the siren, listening to it as the vehicle rode throughout the quiet streets of Hell to the hospital.

~~~~~

When Alastor woke up, he didn't find the bars of a crate pressing into his back. He didn't feel the cold air of the room flowing through the crate doors. He didn't even feel his collar or muzzle around him. He didn't hear the silence of the other fighters or the yelling of other people. He didn't hear whines from the other fighters or the sounds of hands hitting. What he did hear however, was a rhythmic beeping noise, which bothered him. His brain felt overwhelmed and he hadn't even opened his eyes yet. All was weird, foreign even. He shifted, flinching and letting out a small bleat as he heard the rustle of sheets, being quite unfamiliar of the sound. He cracked open his eyes, being blinded by the brightness of the white room. He sat up in bed, letting out small bleats of pain as he did.

Where was he? Why am I here? What was going on? What is all this stuff? Why is it so bright? Where's his owner? Where's everyone else?

He looked around as his eyes slowly adjusted. He had never seen such a room before. As he moved his hand, he felt a prick dig into it. He picked up his hand, seeing a IV in it. His ear turned over to the beeping, which prompted him to do so as well, looking at a screen with vitals being tracked that was next to the bed. He stared at the machine in distaste before looking over his body, seeing it bandaged up for the first time ever. He blinked, not really sure what to think about that. He looked out the large window in the room, finding it to be nearly dusk. He moved his head around the room, taking in the new sight before landing on Lucifer, who was asleep in a nearby chair on his left, which make him tense up and freeze in place, ears standing straight up on his head.

His mind was racing. Who was this man? What was he doing here? What did he do to him? What didn't he do to him? What was his intentions? Was he going to hurt him? Was this is new owner? His brain was screaming at him to fight this man. To kill him and leave his organs to rot on the floor. But at the same time, a gun hadn't gone off, so he was conflicted.

He stared at Lucifer, not sure what to do about the small man. He had started thinking about all the ways he could kill him when permitted. Just as he was coming up with plan after plan, the door slid open, which made him flinch, tense up more, and whip his head around to look at who was there.

The one that stepped in was a tall, white, purple, and black sheep, with four arms, three eyes, and even more on her long neck, a candle on her head, and long ears.

Belphegor.

She looked up from the clipboard she was carrying to see Alastor sitting up in bed. She stood by the door, being cautious of her new patient.

"Hello, sweetheart. I'm Belphegor, the sin of sloth. How are you feeling?" She asked kindly, sweetness flowing through her voice, like he could respond. He hasn't said a word in over a century, he wasn't sure if he would talk anymore, let alone be able to. The question hung in the air like dirty clothes on a clothesline.

He stared at her, still tense and scared, not sure what to do in this situation. He hadn't had freedom, choice, or a voice for so long that while there was some part of him that still wanted it, most of him felt frightening to have it.

He didn't respond, just continuing to stare at her.

"That's alright. You don't have to answer right now, you've been through quite a lot over the past century." She comforted.

Century? The thought passed his mind. Had he really been gone for that long? What had changed? What was Hell like now?

"You've been out for two days since we rescued you, which wasn't a problem, you needed it anyway. Probably haven't gotten a full night's sleep in quite some time, huh?" She asked, still getting no answer, but she didn't let it bother her. She stepped closer to the bed, steps calculated and gentle. She took a look at his vitals, making small notes on her clipboard with him watching her, anxiously.

"You're going to be okay. We're going to help you heal, both mentally and physically, and we're going to get you to a place where you can survive here in Hell on your own. You'll have me and you'll have him." She explained, pointing to Lucifer. His eyes went wide as she pointed to Lucifer, not recognizing him in the slightest.

"He offered-no, insisted on being close to you and being the king of Hell, I couldn't stop him. Hell, when we rescued you, he wouldn't let himself be separated from you, insisting on holding you as we brought you to the hospital." She gave a light chuckle at the memory, tucking the clipboard under her arm. "I'll bring you something to eat soon, take it easy for right now, okay?" She said, leaving the room, leaving him, alone, with the king of Hell, who had started to stir.

Alastor directed his attention over to the king, who had sat up, stretching in his chair. Lucifer opened his eyes, seeing Alastor sitting up in bed.

"Hey, Bambi, how you doing?" He asked gently, scooting the chair a bit closer to the bed, using the nickname in hopes of helping the ex-fighter recognize his voice and stay calm.

Alastor indeed recognized his voice. Barely, but he did. Lucifer was the one who sedated him and spoke apologizes to him. Alastor noticeably relaxed his body, which made the king smile. Despite having fully known that Lucifer had been the one to sedate him, he felt a bit of comfort in his presence and mannerisms. His ear flicked, and he suddenly felt willing to work with the king, to accept his help.

The door slid open and in walked Belphegor again, holding a lunch tray with broth and a slice of bread on top. She walked over to Alastor's bed, pulling out a bedside table from the bed, setting the tray on top, talking to him.

"It's just food. Just broth and bread. Nothing more. It'll be easy on your weak stomach, won't upset it. You need to eat, sweetheart, you're malnourished and underweight, scarily so." She then turned to Lucifer, speaking in a sterner tone. "Make sure he eats at least a little bit. If he seems like he can't physically pick up the spoon to eat, offer assistance. But don't force him." She said before making a few more notes on her clipboard and checking Alastor's vitals before leaving.

Alastor stared at his meal. He had rarely had a full one while having been fighting. And even when he did, he couldn't trust what had been given to him, having been poisoned for fun by his owner once or twice from food, other owners having used the technique to keep their fighters from begging for food and would get it taken away in the middle of the mealtime due to his owner hearing about his bad performance that day from others as they often ate together. He was absolutely starving, and while he wanted the food, wanting to protect it from getting taken away from him and knew his body was screaming for it, he wasn't sure if he could or should, or even if he deserved it. He hadn't performed all day after all, had barely even moved.

Lucifer had gotten out of his chair and walked over, having the intention to sit next to Alastor to help him as he seemed to concerned and apprehensive to eat his meal. But before he could, Alastor growled, flattening his ears against his head, not sure if it was to protect himself from potential harm or from getting his food stolen. He had minimal trust with this man. Who knew what he'd do?

Lucifer got up, hands up to show he wasn't a threat.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was only going to help you eat as you seemed quite apprehensive and concerned about your meal and I thought that it would be helpful if I stepped in. I realize that I was quite wrong. I won't take it away or hurt you, I promise." He explained, sitting back down in his chair.

Alastor scooted forward in his bed, taking the plastic spoon in hand, slowly and anxiously eating the broth, occasionally glancing over at Lucifer for a reaction, to which he returned nothing but a smile, which brought some comfort and reassurance to the deer. In addition to eating about half the broth, he ate a few bites of bread, which had been a win in Lucifer's book.

After Alastor finished eating, he scooted back in his bed, and Lucifer took the hint, taking the tray out of the room, handing it to a nearby nurse. He also put the bedside table away and sat back in his chair.

"So, you got anything you want to do to keep busy? I know it's a hospital and there's not really much to do, but there is the TV, some coloring books I can snatch from downstairs, or there is a library here where I can grab a book for you to read or read to you myself." Lucifer offered, quickly realizing the choice that had been made by Alastor's facial expressions, having been the most interested in him getting a book from the library, giving him a small, tentative nod to show his interest. Lucifer left and headed to the hospital library.

While it felt like Christmas finally being given a choice in a situation, it also felt quite foreign to do so, having been rarely given a chance to choose, both in life and after. He was still testing the waters of his newfound ability.

Lucifer soon came back, book in hand.

"I know you were probably wishing for a more chapter book or adult book, but there were a lot of kiddy books. But I thought you'd like this one since it's my absolute favorite! "The Story About Ping"! It's about a duck who gets separated from his family and goes on adventures, discovering new friends around each bend! Will it suffice for now?" He asked, getting a small nod from Alastor in response, feeling like he couldn't handle the complexity of a chapter book, being already overwhelmed by the current situation.

Lucifer smiled, sitting back in the chair and starting read, almost like a teacher would a group of kindergartners. Alastor had laid down in bed at this point.

As Lucifer read, Alastor felt his eyes start to droop, his body and mind feeling comfortable and safe enough to fall asleep. By the time Lucifer had finished, Alastor was asleep, breathing steady and relaxed. He gave a small chuckle, setting the book onto the table in the room, watching over his deer friend. He turned off the main light in the room.

As Alastor slept, Lucifer soon found himself drifting off in his chair, leaning back against the backboard as his eyes fluttered shut.

~~~~~

Lucifer woke up in the middle of the night to whimpers and cries coming from the bed in front of him. His eyes quickly shot open and he turned on the lamp beside the bed, making sure not to startle the sleeping deer. He saw Alastor in bed, curled up in a ball on his side, having kicked away his blanket, arms wrapped around his chest, claws digging into his arms, causing wounds to reopen and blood to drip down as he trembled. Lucifer's heart broke as he saw Alastor suffer, even in his sleep. He quickly noticed how he had hurt himself in his sleep and went to remove Alastor's hands from his arms, which, despite the intention, proved, in hindsight, to be a bad idea.

Alastor's eyes shot open and he swiped at Lucifer, scratching the angel's cheek. He scrambled off the bed, disconnecting himself from his IV and wires connecting him to the vital monitor, which made it blare loudly in a frenzy, making him panic more. He scurried to the corner of the room, hands over his ears, which had flattened against his head. His breathing had quickened and he was now hyperventilating.

Before Belphagor or any nurse could rush in, Lucifer quickly recovered from the pain in his cheek, rushing toward the panicked individual. He took Alastor's hands, despite knowing that he would despise the contact and possibly swipe again, but Lucifer couldn't let Alastor hurt himself again.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm not mad. I'm fine. It's okay, you're gonna be okay. I'm right here. I'm sorry for grabbing your hands, but I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore." Lucifer rambled, trying to get any sense into the panicked man.

Alastor jerked his head back at the contact, hitting his head against the wall. He closed his eyes. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his rushed breathing, as well as the pain in his chest from it, the new pain in the back of his head, and the pain in his arms from earlier. He could feel his body becoming a mix of tingly and numb. He couldn't hear Lucifer talking to him, the panicked frenzy of the monitor or the sound of Belphegor and some of the nurses rushing in. He could only feel the slaps and yelling coming from past memories and pain.

"You're fucking pathetic!"

Slap.

"I can't believe you!"

Slap.

"Your performance was absolutely atrocious! Sloppy!"

Kick.

"What's the matter with you?!"

Kick.

"I've done everything for you and this is how I'm repaid?!"

Punch.

"I expect better than that!"

Punch.

"You didn't even go for the kill like you usually do! You almost lost!"

Punch.

Kick.

Slap.

Slap.

"I expect better tomorrow. I expect kills. Wins. I expect perfection."

Cough.

Cough.

Heavy breathing.

"Ba....!"

"Ba......i!"

"A.....bi!"

"I....ky!"

"I......ri....gt......h....re...!"

"Ba..m.....i!"

"Yo......re........do...ng.......s....g..od....!"

"N....!......Do....t.....to....h......him....!"

"Le....av...e..!"

"Bam....bi!"

Alastor opened his eyes slowly, seeing the injured angel in front of him, the scratches bleeding down his cheek. He flinched, tensing up, feeling guilty on top of everything else. He had hurt his master-no, Lucifer, the only one who had helped hun. Lucifer quickly comforted him, rubbing his thumbs over the top of Alastor's bloody claws.

"Sh...h.....it....s.....o..kay.....b...eth.....e....I'm....rig...t...he...re.."

Alastor's head felt heavy. He was slowly starting to be grounded, keeping what focus he could on Lucifer. He tried glancing around behind the short man, but could barely lift his head, too exhausted to even try. His head lulled weakly, against the wall. His hearing slowly started to come back and so did all feeling in his body, the pain he felt tenfold.

His head was pounding in pain, both from the attack and from slamming his head into the wall and so was his chest, from hyperventilating. His wounds on his arms felt like they were burning. His eyes started fluttering shut, unable to keep himself awake for much longer, but he was quickly awoken.

"No, no, Bambi, you can't sleep yet, okay? We need to bandage your wounds and we need to make sure you don't have a concussion or anything from hitting your head. Then you can go to sleep, okay?" Lucifer promised, snapping his fingers in front of the man's face.

Alastor let out a small bleat. He didn't want to stay awake. He didn't want to be checked out. He didn't want to be touched and prodded. He didn't want to be talked to. He just wanted to sleep. He started to shake anxiously.

"I'm gonna pick you up okay? I'm not gonna do anything more, besides bring you to bed so you can be checked over. It'll be quick." Lucifer said, picking up the tired deer from the floor, surprised when he relaxed, nuzzled into Lucifer's shoulder, seeking comfort. He wrapped his arms around Lucifers neck, gripping tightly onto him.

Lucifer took him back to the hospital bed, climbing on top of it, holding Alastor in his lap, not doing anything more.

Luckily, the only other individuals in the room were two nurses and Belphegor. There were more nurses, but Lucifer had commanded then to leave after they made attempts to touch Alastor while he was still panicked. Belphegor had stayed to make sure that these two nurses behaved.

One nurse walked over to the side of the bed, gently attaching the wires back onto Alastor so they could monitor his vitals as well as putting in a fresh IV into his hand as Lucifer held it out, still soothing Alastor as he shook in his arms. Alastor pulled his hand away as soon as the nurse let go, cradling it to his chest. This nurse made a few notes on the same clipboard they Belphegor had written on as another walked to the other side of the bed, working with both men to check Alastor for a concussion and bandage his wounds.

Lucifer would tell him what would happen while they checked him and Alastor was having none of it. He refused at first, not moving any part of his body, not wanting a light shined in his eyes, not wanting to answer questions, and not wanting to talk, not like they were going to make him, but it would just be easier to tell if he had a concussion or not.

He would eventually be coaxed out when Lucifer started reading "The Story About Ping", making his turn his head to look at the book, immediately getting a light in his eyes with the nurse quickly determining that his pupils were the same size. And with him being able to focus on the book, they concluded that that was enough to determine that he didn't have a concussion.

With Alastor being distracted, the nurses were able to wrap his arms with bandages fairly quickly. The nurses and Belphegor left soon after and Alastor drifted off to sleep again, Lucifer quickly following.

~~~~~

Over the next two weeks, Alastor would remain in the hospital being treated, albeit not without difficulty. He hated all the medical personal, except for Belphegor, who couldn't be there often as she would've liked, having other duties to take care of.

The medical personal would try to be as gentle with him as they could. Before doing anything, they would explain what they were going to do so he could, hopefully, remain calm. From changing a IV line to replacing bandages, he got explanations, which, while they kept him calm for the most part, he still would occasionally put up a minimal fight during the processes, hitting, growling, or keeping away whatever body part needed to be touched, either when he needed a break or decided he was done, even if more still needed to be completed. He hated being touched by them, which just made it all the more worse. However, on occasion, Lucifer would be able to distract the deer enough for procedures to be completed, reading the same book to him as he has in the past.

While Alastor still struggled with a lot of things, he was getting better at many. He was getting better at making choices, being able to make them without feeling anxious or scared. He was able to eat nearly a full meal by the time he left the hospital, having grown used to the action, but was sometimes still apprehensive toward new food. His wounds had healed, unfortunately leaving lots of permanent scars on his body, which he seemed quite fond of, finding them to be beautiful, despite the actions they came from.

Belphegor also started encouraging Alastor to get up and take walks around the hospital, to get himself outside, to a change of scenery, to experience freedom for the first time as well as prepare him for when he left the hospital. He was initially very apprehensive to explore outside, but he soon learned too and was somewhat comfortable by the time he left the hospital.

Lucifer had started to encourage Alastor to talk as he wanted to hear his voice and he also just couldn't keep calling him "Bambi" for the rest of his life. Though lots of comfort and help, he was able to speak his name, albeit with a super rusty, rough, and weak voice. Lucifer almost wanted to cry when Alastor introduced himself to the king, both from relief and sympathy for the deer, hating that he couldn't use his voice for so long.

Alastor had started to grow more comfortable and trusting with Lucifer, being the only one he would allow to be near him, comfort him, read to him, cuddle with him, and touch him. Hell, he even allowed the king to pet his ears, a action left completely off limits to anyone else.

Lucifer became the only one to comfort and help him through his struggles. He knew what Alastor needed and had created plans for each scenario, knowing that at times, he may need to adjust plans, each approved by the deer.

Alastor still suffered nightmares daily by the time he left the hospital, barely able to get a full night's sleep without waking up panicked, his wounds sometimes throbbing as a reminder to what he went though, which had started happening when he became panicked or frightened. Lucifer knew to hold Alastor tightly against his body and rub the scars to soothe the throbbing sensation as well as occasionally talk to him so he could calm down and go back to sleep.

Flashbacks, while less frequent, still occured, sometimes from someone moving too fast, moving their hand too fast or toward his direction, hearing a argument somewhere in the hospital, or when he had panic attacks. Lucifer knew to hold his hands so he wouldn't claw at himself or others, having gathered that from the first time in the hospital, and talking to him, trying to get Alastor to focus on him and nothing else.

Alastor suffered daily anxiety, flinching at every noise, mainly loud or new ones, at each touch and procedure from the medical personal, any update on the state of his physical health, as he didn't want to stay in that hospital any longer and was scared of needing to, when he had started venturing out of the room, to go on walks and get outside when he first started, and any time Lucifer had to leave for a extended period of time. Lucifer, when it was outside noise, would tell him what it was. When it was a procedure, he got explanations from the medical personal. When it was an update, he made sure to praise Alastor for all he had done so much during his recovery. And when Lucifer needed to leave, he told him where he was going and for hours long, if he knew.

Accompanied by nightmares, anxiety, and flashbacks was pain and panic attacks. The panic attacks would stem from all of the above, or just randomly in the middle of the day, no trigger. The pain always a side effect of a nightmare, nothing else. Lucifer and Belphegor concluded since that was the clearest he was able to experience his memory, that the pain was also the strongest, leading to a throbbing sensation from his scars when he woke.

When he left the hospital, Belphegor had given Lucifer papers with instructions on how Alastor should continue with his treatment including a diet plan, speaking exercises, treatment for his trauma, and minimal wounds that hadn't healed fully yet and to call if anything went awry or if he hurt himself. When Alastor left, Belphegor had come to see him off, happy that he was finally well enough to do home. The three had walked outside, Lucifer's limo waiting for them. Alastor turned to Belphegor, giving her a smile.

"I...thank you...for your..." He stopped, trying to think of the right word to complete the sentence, fighting between three, still trying to get into the habit of using his voice consistently now. "Assistance...care...help....all of above...?" He asked, chuckling. She nodded in response, smiling back.

"You are quite welcome, Alastor. I'm happy to see you well and able to go home." She said, watching Alastor bend down to get into the limo. Lucifer also gave her his thanks and got in the vehicle, sitting next to Alastor, giving a notice to the driver to start driving.

Alastor felt good as they drove away, finally understanding what freedom meant.