Chapter Text
Angel was tired.
He’d had a hell of a day, what with the sky opening up to rain homicidal angels on them, and then watching someone he reluctantly called a friend get obliterated by a beam of holy light.
Angel was so, so tired. The last thing he wanted to be doing right now was go digging through the rubble of the building he had once called home.
But Charlie had been miserable, blaming herself for the loss of all their personal belongings, saying that if she had just protected the hotel better then they wouldn’t have lost everything.
Even after rebuilding the hotel with all their help and most importantly, Lucifer’s magic, Charlie had still been inconsolable, repeatedly blabbing apologies one after the other. It had hurt to see her like that, her cheerful personality crushed into a downtrodden, sobbing mess.
The sight hadn’t just broken Angel’s heart, but everyone else’s as well. Inadvertently, their little group at the hotel had become something like a family. While there was no love lost in Hell, Charlie was just the sort of pure, good, person that drew people into her orbit without even trying. Even Alastor, as powerful, dark and emotionless as he liked to portray himself, held a certain affection for the girl.
If that wasn’t proof in and of itself, Angel didn’t know what was.
(Alastor could probably manage to calm her. He had displayed an uncanny ability to do so when she was in one of her moods, to the surprise, and jealousy (cough Lucifer), of everyone else. But none of them could find him anywhere. The only reason they knew that he was even alive was through Husk’s soul bond)
So, when all consolations failed, Angel reluctantly suggested going through the wreckage to see if they could find anything of theirs. It was a completely stupid idea. There was no way anything could survive the collapse of an entire building. But Charlie had perked up, and, so, reluctantly, the rest of the members of the hotel had also agreed.
She had made them promise to meet back at the lobby of the newly built hotel after thirty minutes, telling them firmly she would come to look for them if they weren’t there by that time. After all, the rubble was dangerous, and there was a thick layer of dust clouds obscuring everything. The last thing they needed was for someone to get crushed beneath a falling piece of rebar without anyone noticing.
Angel had debated just finding a good spot amongst the ruins and waiting out his thirty minutes sitting there, but one thought of Charlie’s crumbling expression when he came back empty handed had had him dismissing that thought. There was no point in wasting all the effort they had put into consoling her just for thirty minutes of rest.
Plus, he had already trekked all the way there. He might as well spend the time looking for his clothes and trinkets, on the unlikely chance they were salvageable.
And that’s how he found himself riffling through the wreckage at the approximate location of where his old room used to be. He hadn’t found much, but surprisingly the effort wasn’t as fruitless as he had thought it would be. He had still managed to find two of his skirts, and one cute keychain that Cherri had given him, in a condition which was somewhat fixable. The rest of his things were, unfortunately, crushed, broken and dirtied beyond repair.
He sighed, just about ready to turn around and head back, when a glint of gold caught his eye in the distance.
Gold?
Curious, he walked over to it, only to see a singular box, lying completely untouched amongst the wreckage and rubble that surrounded it.
It was red, with gold embellished vines creeping around its sides, the lid covering it jet black. There wasn’t a single scratch or dust particle on it, and it practically gleamed in the din of their surroundings, completely out of place.
Angel was decidedly confused.
There was no way someone had walked in here in the middle of an extermination to leave a box on top of a pile of rubble so it had to be one of the other residents’. But how did it survive the destruction?
Some sort of keep it clean spell or something that repelled the dirt, and consequently the dirty falling debris? That sounded like something Niffty would have on her stuff.
Time almost up, and decision made, Angel picked up the box and began carrying it to their newly built hotel.
He arrived to see most of the hotel residents already gathered in the lobby. Husk was, predictably, at the bar cleaning what looked to be a brown deck of cards, and Vaggie had a cute bow hair clip in her hands that looked like it needed twenty cycles in the washing machine to be clean again. Lucifer, who could magic anything of his back into existence and consequently didn’t need to rummage through the dirt, was walking around, inspecting the appliances and pretending to look busy.
Charlie perked up when she saw him, coming over and greeting him enthusiastically, “Angel! I was just about to go looking for you.”
She looked at the box in his arms, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement, “I’m so glad you actually found something! What’s that?”
Angel almost felt bad denying that this was his, with how happy Charlie suddenly looked thinking he’d found something of his.
“Sorry toots, this isn’t mine. I found it just lying completely untouched on top of a pile of rubble. Ya’ think maybe it’s Nifty’s? Some sort of cleaning spell that saved it by repelling the dirt and wreckage?”
Charlie’s eyes dimmed a little at that. Oops.
Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the dirt and wreckage part.
Still, she seemed to perk up again a second later at the thought of finding out whose it was, cheerfully leading him further into the lobby and to the couch she’d been seated on with Vaggie.
She took the box gently from his hands and raised it up a bit before announcing to the lobby, “Guys, Angel found this box out there, is it any of yours? Niffty? Is it yours?”
Niffty, who definitely hadn’t been there a second before, popped out from behind Husk, took one look at the box and immediately said a short, “Nope,” before giggling maniacally and racing off up the stairs, muttering about bugs.
They just built the hotel. There was no way they had an infestation already. Angel would never get used to how weird Niffty was.
Charlie looked questioningly at Vaggie, who shook her head, and then at Husk, who grumbled a ‘no’ while picking himself up off the floor where he’d fallen in shock when Niffty had appeared.
And now Angel was even more curious.
He took the box from Charlie’s hands, sitting down on the couch beside Vaggie, and putting it on the coffee table. He could see Husk coming closer to get a better look from the corner of his eyes.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Angel lifted the lid. Inside was a microphone, set gently over a stack of what seemed to be folded letters. It was anticlimactic really, but Husk blanched immediately upon seeing it, face suddenly draining of colour, and Charlie gasped as the realisation hit her as well.
He should, honestly, leave it. Going through this box was definitely not worth the potentially deadly consequences. But really he’d gone as far as to open it and now he was even more invested in this mysterious box that could only really belong to one person.
(In hindsight, only one person amongst them had the magic and foresight to protect their belongings even in the middle of a war)
Charlie was already taking the lid out of his hands to close it when Angel snatched it back.
Two of his hands holding it behind his back, he placatingly raised the rest in front of Charlie, who had whirled around to face him.
“Wait, wait toots, don’t you wanna know what these are about?” he says, gesturing to the box. He waggles his eyebrows at her, “These could have some totally juicy gossip written on them.”
And they could.
Come on, a box filled with letters that Alastor spent a little bit of his magic protecting even when he needed every bit of it to fight against the angels???
It was practically a guarantee that they were love letters. Oh, Angel couldn’t wait to see what was written in them. He’d been trying to get details about what Alastor was into for the longest time now. But every time he asked or even alluded to it Alastor would either laugh, threaten to kill him, glare, or look completely and totally disgusted. He knew he had to be into some freaky shit, what with the tentacles and all.
And now Angel had the perfect opportunity to get the dirty details about whatever poor sod Alastor had fucked and ghosted, who was now obsessed with him. He bet these letters were filled with some filthy shit that Alastor was too embarrassed to throw out, or maybe he liked it, who knew?
Angel certainly didn’t but he would know soon enough if things went his way.
“-and that would be a massive breach of privacy, we want him to trust us and-”
Aaand Charlie was still going on a rant about some shit. That girl was honestly so pure Angel really couldn’t get her sometimes. Sure, maybe it was a teeny tiny breach of privacy but this was Hell, what did she expect really? Plus, it wasn’t like Alastor wouldn’t have taken the first chance he got to go through all their stuff and laugh at them about it in the name of entertainment.
Charlie was not ruining this for him.
“C’mon, Charlie don’t you wanna know what’s soooo important that Alastor protected it even during a literal war with Heaven where he needed as much of his magic as he could get? We don’t even know anything about him, aren’t you curious?”
She paused. Bingo.
Angel could practically see the urge to do what was right and the sheer curiosity to snoop warring in her eyes as she hesitantly said, “But-”
“And,” Angel cut her off immediately, pretending not to see Husk glaring at him and shaking his head, “We don’t even know if it’s Alastor’s. For all we know Pentious could have had a microphone too. Shouldn’t we at least check before giving Alastor someone else’s things?”
It was a low blow. Pentious’s death was still fresh in everyone’s mind and it had hurt Charlie especially. She had been practically inconsolable while they rebuilt the hotel thinking about how they didn’t even have any of Pentious’s things left to remember him by. That was one of the main reasons they’d all played along to the fruitless task of dumpster diving in the wreckage in the first place.
Still, he knew he had won, Charlie’s morals, or whatever, fading in the face of his flawless logic.
Husk frantically hissed in the background, “You’re gonna get us all skinned alive-”
Angel pretended like he didn’t hear that and swiftly cut in, smiling innocently at Charlie as he reached towards the letters, “It’ll just be the one letter then we’ll leave it alone ok?”
He placed the microphone gently on the table and took out the first letter, Charlie not saying a word to stop him as she watched.
The others, that is, Vaggie, and Charlie came to peer over his shoulder as he began unfolding it. After a moment, Husk, reluctantly ditching the newly furnished bar, joined them too. Even Lucifer, who had silently migrated to inspecting the walls as he pretended not to listen, came over, tilting his head curiously. Alastor was an enigma wrapped in a mystery after all, and none of them really knew anything about him. Even Lucifer couldn’t resist finding out.
(Honestly, Angel didn’t get his deal with Alastor at all. Was their fighting sexual tension, or actual hatred? Lucifer, at least, was interested in Alastor in some way, whether that was in suspicion that he was hiding something or some sort of romantic way, Angel didn’t know. But it was enough to make sure Lucifer was always listening for dirt on Alastor too)
A hush fell as everyone scrambled to read the letter.
It read:
Dear Alastor,
Look Al! I finally figured out how to transport things other than myself, and it’s all thanks to you!
I really couldn’t have figured it out without you. You know I’m still new to this whole magic thing so your description on how to imbue my magic into an object really helped. And you said to try to send you a letter when I figured it out. So if you’re reading this, then here it is!
I must’ve practised this a thousand times before I got it right. I have no idea how you magic things so easily. And shut up, it’s not because I’m stupid (I can practically hear you say it), it’s just that you’re too damn good at it.
I know you don’t like people beating around the bush so I’ll keep it short.
Thank you for your help, seriously. I’m starting to have a lot of fun with this whole magic and powers thing, along with our usual nights at the bar, and I know you find it entertaining. So, see you Friday?
Yours,
V.
As Angel reached the end of the letter, there was silence as everyone processed what they had just read. It lasted for one beat. Two. And then,
“They called him Al,” Lucifer shrieked at the top of his lungs. Angel distinctly remembered a week ago when Lucifer had called Alastor that and had promptly had coffee thrown in his face.
At the same time Vaggie, who was being shaken like a rag doll by Charlie, gritted out, “You mean to tell me that bastard actually helped someone without being difficult or making a deal.”
Angel barely heard her over Charlie’s high pitched squeal of, “Alastor actually has friends! We have to find out who this is and bring them to the hotel.”
Damn, she sure switched up fast.
Husk, meanwhile, was mouthing, “Our usual nights at the bar,” as if he were having a mental breakdown trying to reconcile the image of Alastor regularly enjoying spending time with anyone.
Angel could barely pay attention to any of them because he was busy having his own mental breakdown over the fact that whoever this person was, they clearly had some sort of crush on Alastor, and the feeling was probably not entirely unreciprocated, what with how Alastor had kept these letters. Meaning, Angel had somehow unknowingly convinced everyone to break into Alastor’s secret stash of actual love letters.
Oh god Alastor was going to skin him alive.
Before he could do damage control by telling everyone this was all a big mistake and they should shut the box and pretend they never saw anything, Charlie, excited by the evidence that Alastor had a heart, and to find the identity of this V person, pulled out another letter and began reading out loud.
“Dear Al,” she paused to squeal sharply, making Angel wince, before she began again.
“Dear Al,
I hope you got home safely last night and are doing better than I am right now. Ugh my head hurts so much it’s not even funny. Remind me never to drink that much ever again.
All jokes aside though, I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. I know I didn’t exactly win our bet and prove that I’m the better dancer, but you can’t be serious about me paying for all our drinks next time.
A bet’s, a bet, you would say.
And I know believe me, but seriously you’re literally rich and I’m broke as hell, and we literally drink a shit ton every time. I promise I’ll buy all the drinks once I get my company up and running, you have my word, but please let me be able to afford this month’s rent. After all, if I get thrown out of my apartment it’ll be your fault and you’ll have to take the responsibility of housing me.
For the record, I still maintain that I only stepped on your toes so much and lost because I was drunk. Speaking of, I hope your toes are okay and not bruised as hell because of me, because looking back, that looked like it would be painful.
Ok, in hindsight, maybe I am a pretty bad dancer. I wouldn’t mind taking you up on the offer to teach me yourself. Has anyone ever told you you’re a pretty good teacher? I wouldn’t even know half the things I needed to know to get my company running if it weren’t for you.
Anyway, I’m looking forward to Friday! (if you decide to let my wallet survive that is)
I’ll see you then!
Yours,
V.”
This time, the silence was tense as everyone caught up to what Angel had already realised.
They were going to be skinned alive.
Everyone, except, apparently, Charlie.
“Oh my goodness, they went dancing together! I didn’t even know Alastor could dance. And he didn’t even kill this person when they stepped on his toes. He totally likes them. I didn’t know Alastor was even in a relationship. He’ll be so happy if they’re here when he comes back. Quick, Vaggie, who do we know who owns a company and whose name starts with a V?”
Angel felt his mind reeling with how fast Charlie said that. With the knowledge of Alastor’s apparently soft, cute romance, their impending doom, and Charlie’s word vomit, his mind was honestly struggling to process everything.
How did Charlie even say all that in one breath?
It seemed Vaggie was in the same boat because she slowly began after five long seconds, “Hon…”
She paused, trying to gather the words. Angel, personally, related to the struggle.
“Firstly…there are like thousands of businesses in Hell, and there’s probably a good number of them run by someone with a name starting with V.”
Like the Vees.
Oh my god imagine if it was Vox, Angel thought a little hysterically.
“And honestly, don’t you think this is getting a little intrusive? Perhaps it would be best to leave it alone…” Vaggie continued at the same time that Husk whispered an empathetic, “We’re all dead,” while simultaneously chugging a bottle of hard liquor he got from somewhere.
Charlie looked sheepish at her own invasion of Alastor’s privacy and looked like she was actually about to agree.
Thank fuck.
And then of course Lucifer had to open his goddamn mouth.
(Angel had honestly forgotten he was even there)
“There is absolutely no way we are stopping now. I mean come on that Red Guy pretends to be all tough, and strong, acting like we’re all beneath him for having actual emotions-”
Well, that sounded personal.
“-while secretly he’s just as bad as the rest of us, hiding this gal’s letters like a schoolboy with a crush. He probably ruins it with how emotionally constipated he is and she probably breaks up with him over these letters. Oh this is prime blackmail material. I’ll show him pathetic. Gimme that.”
The most surprising part of this was that Angel hadn’t even considered the possibility of this person being a girl.
He watched in numb horror as Lucifer snatched the box of letters off the table, promptly spilling most of them.
Maybe he should leave, then he could claim innocence when the reckoning finally arrived.
But, really, who was he kidding? He was already in too deep, had heard too much. There wasn’t any saving him now, so he just continued sitting there as he watched Lucifer ignore Charlie’s pleas to put the box back down, pick up one of the three letters in the box that hadn’t fallen out, and brandish it triumphantly as he began to read.
“Dearest Al,
I got your gift.
I don’t really know what to say, or how to thank you. I’ve never been given a gift quite like this before.
It’s beautiful. I’ve never even seen anything like it. Did you make it yourself?
You didn’t have to, you know. I was only joking when I said that you should make me a radio so that I can see a “proper one” as you put it. How did you even manage to carve sharks this detailed into it? And the colour?
I didn’t even know a blue this bright existed in Hell, what with how muted and dull the colours seem here.
How did you even know my death day? I don’t remember ever mentioning it to you.
Still, this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I don’t have the words to explain to you how much it means to me. All I can really say is that I can’t wait to use it every day to listen to you.
Just you wait, on your death day I’ll give you a gift just as good as this one. I don’t think I can really measure up to it, but I’ll give it my best shot.
Yours,
V.”
Wordlessly, Lucifer put the letter and the box back down on the table, any feelings of triumph gone. His face was twisted into a sour expression. Frankly, he looked like he was eating his words of calling Alastor emotionally constipated just a few minutes ago.
Angel was right there with him. He hadn’t thought Alastor could ever be so-
“I didn’t think Alastor could be so…thoughtful,” Charlie said softly. “It sounds like he really cares for this V person, and they clearly care about him too.”
Angel had never felt so single in his life. Even with all the sex in the goddamn world, his love life was still worse than Alastor’s of all people. It wasn’t fair.
Husk clearly agreed to Angel’s thoughts because he shot to his feet from where he’d been slumped over the back of the sofa, thoroughly drunk, and pointed at Charlie accusingly as he exclaimed, “Don’t let all this lovey-dovey bullshit fool you. That bastard is stone cold. There’s no way he would have some cute romance. He’s clearly trying to manipulate this poor thing into liking him so that he can crush their heart and it’s working.”
Well, that sounded like jealousy to Angel. And denial.
But seriously, there was no way Alastor had a better love life than him, so maybe Husk was right.
Charlie clearly didn’t seem to appreciate that accusation like Angel did because she glared fiercely at Husk.
Charlie, who didn’t have a single negative bone in her body, honest to god glared.
Angel shivered. Strange things were happening here. Maybe he had somehow been transported to an alternate universe where Alastor was soft and Charlie was menacing?
Charlie, still glaring, picked up the second to last letter still left in the box, and brandished it towards them like a sword. “There’s no way Alastor would do that, but I don’t really think anything I say is gonna convince you. So, since we’ve come this far already, let’s just all read these two letters, and prove to you how wrong you are,” Charlie said, literally growling that last part at Husk.
Angel shivered again. Shit, Charlie was actually damn scary when she wanted to be. It seemed Husk also agreed because he immediately shut his mouth and collapsed on the sofa near Angel, his face pale and ashen.
Charlie, suddenly perfectly chipper again (how the fuck), unfolded the letter and began,
“Dearest Al,
Happy Death Day!
I hope you liked your present! I worked really hard on it. It’s not even half as good as yours was, but I still think it turned out alright.
It’s the same microphone model that you mentioned was your favourite, and how it was such a shame that they didn’t exist down in Hell, and well, I just knew it would be the perfect gift. After all, you somehow managed to find my favourite colour that I’m still sure doesn’t exist in Hell, and you gave me a nice name when I wanted to change mine, and you’ve done so much for me over the time we’ve known each other. It was only fair that I find you something you wanted that didn’t exist here either.
The parts are imported straight from Earth to get the sound quality you like, and I built it myself. Boy, was that not easy but I think it was totally worth it. I know you’re not really a fan of modifications, but I’m certain you’ll like this one!
See, the stand for the microphone is adjustable. So, right now it’s small, but if you pull on it, it’ll lengthen to a regular standing microphone. You can use it anywhere! And when the stand is shorter you can place it on the piano while playing it and sing along with me, and everyone will be able to hear you crystal clear!
Let me know if you liked it, yeah? If you don’t like something, just let me know. I’ll make any changes you want.
Yours,
V.”
All eyes, including Angel’s, were glued on the microphone sitting innocuously on the coffee table.
Fuck, that was-
That was-
“That was so cute!” Angel wailed dramatically.
It just wasn’t fair!
He glared at Husk who was beside him, “Why the fuck can’t you be like that! There’s no way Alastor pulled whoever this cutie is while I’m stuck with a drunkard like you!”
Husk choked on the water Vaggie had forced into his hands. He thumped his chest, once, twice.
“What-”
“I’m literally getting cavities listening to this shit. Are they even together? It sounds like they’re both, or at least V is, just pining for each other. I swear to god if they’re not even together and it’s already this sappy, I’m actually going to hurl when we get to the letter where they finally are together,” Angel interjected, ignoring Husk’s confused sputtering from beside him, Vaggie and Charlie nodding along to his words.
“Gimme that Charlie,” he continued, grabbing the last letter out of Charlie’s hands, “I want some answers and if this next one isn’t signed off with an ‘I love you’ then I’m killing everyone here and then myself.”
Charlie and Vaggie nodded again. Wiser words had never been spoken.
Upon closer inspection, this letter actually looked a lot worse for wear than its pristine counterparts. It had wrinkles running all along it as if it had been crumpled, and the edges were slightly torn. In the centre, there was one long tear running through it that had been hastily taped back together. Angel didn’t give it much thought. It had probably accidentally gotten in the middle of Alastor and dinner. He was a cannibal after all.
He unfolded the letter, and promptly choked on his own saliva, frantically looking again to confirm what he had just read.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, Angel thought in a frenzy.
Charlie, Vaggie, Husk and Lucifer, all stared at him, confused.
“What the actual fuck,” he whispered in horror, as the words refused to change in front of his eyes.
“What? What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, panicked. Vaggie was already snatching the letter out of his slack grip, freezing as the realisation hit.
Angel, who wasn’t even present in his own body anymore, and instead felt like he was drifting away out of sheer shock, didn’t even notice the sudden silence that reverberated as the rest of their party got caught up to the news.
Maybe I really am in an alternate universe, he thought distantly.
The silence was broken by Lucifer’s confused, “What? Who’s Box?”
They all collectively ignored him to stare at the letter which had somehow ended up back in the centre of the coffee table.
The words of the first line stared innocently back at Angel. They read:
My dearest picture box, Vincent, Vox,
There was no way.
There was just no fucking way, that the one who’d been writing all these cute letters had been Vox. Vox as in, the CEO of VoxTek , as in Valentino’s fuck buddy, and Alastor’s sworn enemy. As in the guy who regularly fed his employees to the sharks.
“Vox? As in the Media Overlord Vox? Don’t they like… regularly try to kill each other?” Charlie asked sceptically.
Apparently, Angel thought, definitely hysterical. Maybe he was losing his mind?
“There’s no way right?” Vaggie answered, frowning. “Maybe Alastor accidentally put his hate letter to Vox in the wrong box? Or maybe this is a different Vox? Or Alastor is playing a very elaborate prank on us all?”
All excellent thoughts, except that this letter called Vox dearest, there was only one person called Vox who also had a picture box for a head, his own company and was obsessed with sharks and the colour blue, and that there was no way this was a prank because the previous letters were definitely not in Alastor’s handwriting, and Alastor, who acted like he was above all feelings of romance, would definitely not embarrass himself to prank them.
At least Vox’s obsession with Alastor made sense now, Angel thought, as he felt his soul leave his body a little.
Husk, meanwhile, was suspiciously quiet. Angel slowly turned to him, narrowing his eyes in his direction. Husk looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.
What the fuck.
“YOU KNEW!??!!” Angel shrieked, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking Husk hard in the face with it.
Husk sputtered, “I-well they used to be friends way back in the 60s. I didn’t think it was like…that”
Like that, indeed.
Lucifer, who definitely didn’t understand how earth shattering this realization was, looked around at them before hesitantly asking, “So who’s reading that letter?”
Angel turned his attention away from glaring at Husk and back to the letter, sighing wearily as he picked it up and read,
“My dearest picture box, Vincent, Vox,
We had a good thing going didn’t we? I, at least, enjoyed the times we had together.
It wasn’t…
It wasn’t the worst thing, drinking with you, talking, and dancing. I had even started to look forward to the next time I would be seeing you.
But you just had to ruin it didn’t you?
Did you really think I wouldn’t notice what you were trying to do? A business proposal, really? Did you take me for a fool? After every harrowing tale you told me about the way you killed your competition and took their place in life, did you really think I would fall for it?
Do you know, when we first met, I spent the longest time waiting for the other shoe to drop? To figure out what you wanted from me. Surely it was the same as every other wretched fool out there, protection, souls, power?
But it never came. And I foolishly thought it never would.
All the while you were just playing the long game. I can respect that. You did it well even, really sold the act, really had me believing that we could be, that we were friends.
In the end you were just another example of why there are no friends in Hell.
It’s my fault really for not following my own little rule.
For falling in love with you.
So, congratulations Vincent. In the end you didn’t get what you wanted. You certainly won the battle, but you didn’t win the war.
I hope it was worth it.”
Angel slowly lowered the letter back onto the coffee table, one of his hands covering his mouth and the other two furiously rubbing the tears falling from his eyes.
The room was dead silent once again.
When Angel finally composed himself his voice was icy with rage and hatred, “So, that fucker was playing with Al the whole time? That fucking bastard. I’ll kill him the next time I see him.”
“No,” Charlie said so quietly Angel almost didn’t hear her.
“No? What do you mean no? Didn’t you hear what I just read? That bastard was trying to use Alastor the whole time! He broke Alastor’s heart! So much so that he wrote this-”
He slammed his hands on top of the letter.
“-this fucking letter and never sent it. Alastor sounds miserable in this Charlie!”
“No,” Charlie said firmer this time, her voice uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t believe he would do that.”
Angel couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you serious toots? This is Vox we’re talking about. I know you haven’t met him but believe me he’s completely capable of pulling something like this.”
Charlie’s tone offered no room for argument when she continued, “Do you really believe this whole thing was a lie? Look around you Angel,” she gestured down to all the letters on the floor, “he must’ve written hundreds of letters to Alastor. You don’t put in that much effort on someone you don’t give a shit about. And these-”
She waved all the letters they’d just read, and then to the microphone on the table.
“-these were sincere. There’s no way they weren’t. Alastor probably couldn’t see it through his heartbreak but I can. Now, I can’t pretend to know what happened between them, but I do believe that Vox wasn’t lying the whole time. And, at the very least, they deserve the chance to clear things up.”
Ok, Angel could sort of see what she meant. But what-
“Clear things up…haha surely you don’t mean-“
“Thats exactly what I mean. Vox should get the chance to read these, especially the one Alastor didn’t send, and set things right,” Charlie interrupted.
Whoa, what? Did she have a death wish?
Clearly Vaggie was thinking the same thing because she said,“Whoa there Charlie, babe, I know you want to help but maybe it’s best we don’t meddle here okay? Alastor won’t be happy to find out we’ve read this, much less if he finds out that you delivered these straight back to Vox.”
But Charlie was hardly listening. She was already gathering up all the letters from the floor and putting them back in the box with steely determination.
Was she mad?
Angel grabbed her hands in two of his.
“Charlie I understand you want to help, I really do, but Alastor is going to kill us when he finds out and-”
Surprisingly it was Husk that pulled him away, gently putting his hand on Angel’s shoulder as he looked straight at Charlie, voice dead serious as he said, “Charlie, the date on that letter is the day before Alastor bet his soul against me. He won in the end but-”
Husk hesitated, clearly wondering if he should say the next part.
“-well, I always thought it was strange that he was willing to put his soul on the line. He’s a horrible person, he’s a bastard, and I hate him. But he doesn’t deserve this. So if you think you can set things right, then you should.”
Charlie nodded, determination burning in her gaze. She put the final letters in the box, then the microphone, and then closed it with the lid, gingerly picking it up into her arms before turning to Lucifer.
“Dad, can you make a portal to Vee Tower? To Vox?”
Lucifer, without a single word of complaint, opened the portal.
Charlie took one long breath, and stepped in, the portal closing behind her.
And apparently that was that.
Well, they were dead.
Angel couldn’t bring himself to feel as upset about it as he probably should.