Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was no secret that Alastor wasn't the world's biggest fan of Charlie's "bonding activities". But still, he tried to make most of them at least, in an attempt to keep the peace. He could sit through some of Charlie's antics for a few hours and play along with everyone's silly games, even if the others sometimes got on his nerves.

However, since the Adam incident, Alastor hadn't been participating as much. Charlie had made it clear that this was a sore spot for him, and that no one should bring it up, but it wasn't his embarrassment keeping him away. Or, at least, it wasn't his embarrassment about "losing" the fight. In fact, Alastor didn't even see it as a loss- he saw it as a draw. After all, Niffty put an end to that jerk once and for all.

What the others weren't aware of was just how much his magic was impacted. It wasn't the angelic wound like he had suggested when asked, rather, so much of his power came from his staff- his broken, torn apart staff. Alastor knew he would have to get it fixed, and soon. He still had some magic without it, but it wasn't nearly as good.

For instance, he couldn't talk in his signature radio voice, which, despite his denial of it, made him feel really uncomfortable. He could still teleport thankfully, but it wasn't nearly as accurate. He was much more visible on cameras, which was arguably the most annoying issue. Oh, and the magic that usually kept him healthy was all the way gone. Great.

Noticing that Alastor hadn't been participating as much as usual, Charlie made the effort to cater their activities more to his interests. She tried to have a cooking class, but Alastor said no- he was afraid of accidentally burning himself and showing pain or weakness. He really needed his staff back as soon as possible. He found himself quite useless without it.

Now Charlie was hosting a simple night at the bar, with some jazz music. Even though the deer didn't exactly want to go- he had his reasons- he knew that, out of all the bonding activities, this would probably be the easiest for him, and the one that would be weirdest for him to miss. So, he sucked up his concerns and went downstairs.

Alastor was quite pleasantly surprised at how nice the parlor looked. It was formal yet not too busy. After greeting Charlie with a kiss on the hand, he went to the bar and requested some bourbon. He didn't bother with more than a nod to thank Husk, before he went over towards the wall, away from everyone, gently sipping on his drink. He had noticed a bit of a headache forming. 

He considering slipping back into his room, but he thought his absence would be noticed. He wouldn't want to concern anyone. For now, he listened to the calming piano music being played by some demon that Charlie had hired. He kind of wished that Charlie would have asked him, but he got that she wanted everyone to have some time off. 

His thoughts and nice time alone were interrupted by a mildly tipsy Angel Dust, parading over to him in his usual manner. He had some fruity-looking drink in one of his hands, and a cigarette in another. His other set of hands were rested on his hips. "Hey Smiles! Didn't think I'd ever see ya' get drunk!"

The deer rolled his eyes, walking up towards Angel's side- but still maintaining his five foot rule. "I'm not drunk, I'm just enjoying my bourbon, thank you very much. Maybe you should try some liquor sometime that's not so, well, light." He held out his glass towards the spider with a wink.

Angel chuckled, drinking the entirety of the second half of his drink in one swallow. He smacked his lips, giving a sly grin at Alastor, intentionally trying to get on his nerves. He was easy to bug, and Angel liked to exploit that for laughs. Who didn't like to bug him? "Are ya' insinuatin' that I'm a lightweight? This is what, my second margarita, after anotha' cocktail? I barely feel anythin'!"

There was a moment of silence between the two, and Angel began to play with the tuft of fur on the top of his head with one hand, and then took a puff of his cigarette. "Anyways, what ya' wanna do at this party? No one has taken me up on an offer to go to bed yet, wanna do it before we get too drunk?"

Alastor was taken aback momentarily on how blatant Angel's offer was, before calming down for a moment. It was clear that he was just trying to get under his skin. "Why Angel, I think I'll have to decline your offer. I have much more interesting things to do with my life other than such wasteful activities."

"Says the guy drinkin' a bourbon! Live a little, man!" The two exchanged smiles, genuine smiles. It was clear that they were teasing each other, even if maybe there was a hint of truth in both of their commentaries. This was usually when Angel would reach out to jokingly shove him, but this was Alastor. He couldn't get too close. Even in a good mood, such a thing could tick him off. 

"You're quite the demon, my effeminate fellow," Alastor still shot Angel some looks. He had to admit, he was definitely an interesting guy. He was definitely warming up to him, just as Angel was to him. They were two very different demons, from very different walks of life, and afterlife. But they'd somehow come together over this hotel. "Why don't you go ask the bartender. I think he'd be good to get in bed with you."

The spider winked at Alastor, drawing a bit of a more frustrated smile. "Why? Why would I do that when I could try to lure a prude like you to bed? Of course Husk would have some fun with me, for all ya' know we've done it before!" Angel winked, intentionally trying to rile up the deer.

But, much to Angel's surprise, Alastor's reaction never came. 

That couldn't be right. Angel calling him a prude wasn't a new thing, and every time, it sparked some snarky comment. The static was thick, but it wasn't Alastor's normal frustrated tone.

"Uh, Alastor, ya' keepin' ya' ears covered like the rest of ya'? I called ya' a prude." the spider teased. He wanted some reaction out of him. Their teasing and bickering was constant, and while neither of them actually meant it, and deep down they did love each other, pulling reactions out of each other was a fun pastime. Angel's liking of sex jokes- and Alastor's dislike of them- was a common prodding point.

It didn't take long before the silence became deafening. Angel shot a glance around the room, and upon recognizing that nobody else was there, he stepped closer to Alastor a bit. His face was weird- still in a smile, but after all, Charlie had said that it had been stitched on- but with no emotion whatsoever. He looked like he was staring right through Angel.

With a sharp inhale, Angel did the unthinkable. He gently shook Alastor's shoulder. He reeled back, knowing that he would be absolutely killed on the spot for touching him. For all he knew, this was one of his silly pranks, and an attempt to get a reaction out of Angel himself. But now Angel was beginning to panic. 

He had never heard him making a static quite like this before. It was quiet, but just so chaotic. Alastor hadn't had much control over his static sounds since his staff broke. He used to be able to stop them, and for a while, everyone assumed that the microphone brought the static itself. But apparently no, and now he couldn't help it at all.

Alastor's left arm dangled at his side, but his right arm seemed almost locked into a bent position, hand tightly locked into its grasp on the red fabric of his jacket. He had twisted it around a bit, in a way that Alastor, who seemed deathly afraid of wrinkles would never do. His fingers still spasmed a little, twitching without his control.

Angel felt like he couldn't breathe. He tried to calm himself through the breathing exercises that Charlie had taught him, because right now wasn't the time for a panic attack. Something was wrong with Alastor. He debated running to go find Charlie or her dad, but no, he didn't want to leave him. He couldn't leave him like this.

"Hey! Smiles!" Angel exclaimed, beginning to raise his voice a bit. The spider frantically waved one of his hands in front of Alastor's eyes, using another to shake his shoulder still. He had pulled out his third set of arms to hold his glass and his cigarette, preparing his usual second set in case Alastor fell. He seemed steady on his feet so far. "Al! Snap out of it!"

Those words must have done it. Alastor blinked hard, his stare finally breaking, seemingly trying to get his eyes to focus on the demon in front of him. His breath hitched, and he released his tight grasp on his shirt. Angel noticed the way that his normally black hands were turning grey from how tightly he was holding on. He then reached both of his hands towards his temples, using two fingers to rub them, and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I am so sorry, my dear," Alastor said, his voice sounding quite a bit more tired than usual. His eyes opened, meeting Angel's, and his smile grew, albeit not in a genuine way. "Just a passing headache, tis all."

"Yeah, no," Angel replied, with a slight chuckle of his voice. Noticing Alastor wincing, he quieted it down a bit. "What was all that about? That's not just a headache, Smiles."

The deer groaned, partly in pain, and partly in frustration with Angel. This was not something that he wanted to try to explain to anyone, let alone Angel. The spider wasn't necessarily known for being able to keep a secret well. He figured that this little incident of his was already well on its way to Charlie's ears. And the last thing he needed was for everyone to worry. 

Alastor knew that he would be fine. There was not a doubt in his mind, even if he was a bit shaken up at the moment. He was the Radio Demon, no one needed to know that he wasn't as, well, indestructible as he made himself out to be. The thought of them trying to help him and care for him genuinely made him nauseous. He didn't like that Rosie had to know, let alone everyone else.

Well, it was too late now. Angel was onto him. He didn't have to tell him the full truth. He could figure out some lie to tell to cover up the mess that he had made. "Angel, it is just a headache. It's no fun not having the magic to rid myself of the pain. Now, would you be a dear and let me rest in my room? That'd be the west way to help myself."

"Stop lyin'" Angel deadpanned, rolling his eyes, before he remembered the level of seriousness in the moment. He dropped his silly smile, and offered a much more genuine, caring one. "Al, I know when somethin' isn't right. Did ya' get too drunk? Did ya' take somethin' and get high? I promise it's nothin' to be ashamed of. I can help ya'."

Deep down, Angel didn't actually think he was too drunk or high. He had no clue what had happened, but he had figured that he might as well take a shot in the dark. Maybe he had a panic attack, could that have been it? He didn't think so, either. He didn't know, but what he did know is that he would tell Charlie what had happened. She could figure it out.

A simple shake of the head was Angel's response. Whatever had happened, he didn't doubt that he had some sort of headache. Maybe he should let him go off to his room and get some sleep. The longer he looked, the more clear it became that he was unsteady on his feet, and still a bit dazed. Seeing the Radio Demon like this made him so uncomfortable.

Before he could say anything more, Alastor vanished into his smoke. Angel stared at the empty wall for a minute, rubbing his eyes. At least he had the wherewithal to teleport himself away. Before he had the chance to head to Alastor's room, he heard Husk calling for him. He didn't want to tell Husk about this, yet. He'd check on Alastor in a minute. 

Meanwhile, Alastor rematerialized in his room. He was quite dizzy from the teleportation- ever since he'd lost his staff, it had happened a little bit, but never this bad. This was still just his demon brain recovering after what had happened downstairs. He plopped down onto his bed, trying to keep tears from forming in his eyes. Either way, he knew he was screwed. Angel definitely knew something had happened.

Why had he had to be born with this stupid condition. Throughout his childhood, his mother couldn't afford to get him to a doctor. When he was a teenager, some doctor had finally suggested that he had "non-motor seizures", which made no sense to him. He knew what a seizure looked like. But sure enough, as time went on, the earthly theories were confirmed. 

Terms changed over the years, and he had since been told that he had epilepsy. He didn't believe it. There was some mistake. But thankfully, due to his magic in his staff, the same magic that kept him safe from injuries as simple as paper cuts, kept him safe from whatever this condition was, and he was so thankful it did. He was the Radio Demon, he didn't need some medical condition. 

The only other demons who knew about it were a few rogue demons in Cannibal Town. Rosie knew, the medical demons there knew, but that was about it. Rosie had helped him when he first arrived in hell, still not sure what was happening to him. She knew about the staff breaking. She knew his episodes were back. But no one else needed to know. 

Even the thought of everyone viewing him as weak made him ill. Would they constantly be on the lookout, and alert for his episodes? Would they try to give him rest? He was so much better than that. He didn't need rest, or special attention. And he didn't need Vox hearing or seeing any of this. That could all wait, though. What he needed right now, was a nap.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

~Day After The Party~

Alastor got up the next morning, still feeling quite tired from his unusually late night the night before. It was time for him to make breakfast, which he had still been doing- he didn't need any magic to work his way around the kitchen. It was his time alone, it was his time to think, and it was his time to be out of his room without worrying about being "caught".

He started to prepare the Bananas Foster French Toast in the same way his beloved maman had always done. It was still dark, as after last night, he wanted to be extra confident that he would make it back to his room before anyone else arrived in the kitchen. He didn't need any sort of questioning about his incident. He knew that he would have to make a trip out to Rosie's today to inform her exactly what had went down. 

Angel had caught him in a seizure. He saw the whole thing, from start to end. That made him unbelievably uncomfortable. Having to live with the knowledge of his condition was bad enough, but now Angel knew, and if Angel knew, well, the entirety of Hell might as well know. Then, quite possibly the worst thought of them all hit him. 

Who was Angel's boss? Valentino. Who was Valentino's coconspirator? Vox. The TV Demon. The thought of that idiot finding out made Alastor sick to his stomach. It was to the point where his batter was making him feel a bit ill. If Vox found out- no, Alastor couldn't even think about that. That could, quite possibly, be the worst thing to happen to him, and this hotel. 

At least, maybe, hopefully, Angel didn't recognize what exactly that was. Not that the "Alastor has headaches and staring spells and I have no clue what they are" was going to go over much better with Valentino. Whatever it was, Vox was going to hear it. He hoped that the moth at least got a fair deal in return for the information. But with those two, who knows what kind of ridiculous activities they'd participate in with a deal. 

"Hey! Alastor!" That was Charlie's voice. That was Charlie's voice coming from behind him. Why was Charlie up at such an hour? Alastor froze over his batter, staring at his concoction. He didn't want to turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd go away. But after what happened with Angel last night, he had to react at least a bit. 

The Radio Demon spun around on his heels, looking down upon the wide eyed princess. She smiled as she opened her arms for a hug, offering it to him on his own terms. He grimaced, vaguely gesturing towards the dirtied whisk in his hand. The tension was palpable- it was very clear that she had something to say, and was just waiting for him to begin the conversation.

"Good morning, my dear Charlotte," Alastor began. He pulled the spoon rest closer to him, placing the whisk down, and then accepted the Princess' offer for a hug. He didn't necessarily like it, but he knew that this would probably be the most peaceful moment for a while. No matter what she said or did to him, he wouldn't tell her about his condition. "Why are you up so early on this fine morning?"

"Same goes for you," she smirked back, feeling when he was definitely done with the hug. "You know that no one's gonna be up for a few hours! It's just you and me, up so early, good time to chit chat, am I right?" She knew what she was doing. She definitely knew what she was doing. And so did Alastor. 

"I guess so, anything you want to discuss? Any updates on this little hotel of yours?" He reached over to her and gently patted her head, which she smiled to. She loved when Alastor was in such an enjoying touch mood. He so rarely was, so it felt nice. Maybe he'd actually even be open to discussing what Angel had told her. 

She figured that she might as well rip the band aid off. There was no doubt in her mind that he at least suspected the reason for her presence. She really didn't want to upset him, and she knew that it would, but it wasn't like she had much choice. Angel was concerned- and, quite frankly, so was she. The whole situation was odd. 

"So, Alastor, uh, could I talk to you, you know, about last night?" She started, her voice squeaking a little as she finished. She looked at him, the two of them holding eye contact for as long as it would be comfortable until she broke it. She offered him an awkward smile. 

"Well my dear, I do not know what you are referring to," he did, he very much did. But she didn't need to know that. He had some dumb, faint hope that she had some other event from last night to discuss. 

"Angel told me that, well, something happened last night. Angel said that you just like, I dunno, blacked out on him- did, was that true?" She sounded nervous as she asked him. 

"Why, I'm afraid that he may have gotten his facts a little mixed," Alastor replied, turning back to his bowl of batter. He began to stir mindlessly once more. "I just had a bit of a headache, tis all. That is what I told him, and you know Charlotte, that I am a man of truth. My head hurt, I may have gotten a little dizzy, but that's what bad headaches do sometimes. I need my healing magic back to cure them, after all."

Charlie was quiet for a second, before her voice piped up again, seemingly much calmer than before. "Oh, well, Al, I- I didn't know that you got headaches like that, I'm so sorry to hear that. I could get you some medicines, I'm sure my dad could summon them on the spot! He won't need to know it's for you! Just, please take some time and rest, ok?"

At least she bought his story, although it seemed like even headaches were enough to get her riled up enough to worry about him. It was better than the alternative though, way better. Alastor hummed a response, cocking his head to the side. He wasn't going to take medications for anything, especially something he didn't need, but again. Some things Charlie need not know.

"That's a lie and ya' know it!" Alastor cringed at hearing Angel Dust's voice coming from around the corner. Had he been here this whole time? "Ya' know that that ain't justa headache. I dunno what that was, but that was not a headache. I know what a headache look like, and that's not it."

"Maybe it's a migraine, Angel, I've never had one but I know that those can really be weird," Charlie spun around, calmly talking to the spider. It almost seemed like she had forgotten that Alastor, the topic of their discussion, was still standing right there, holding his whisk once again. 

"What I would like to know is why half of this hotel has gathered here in the kitchen at such an early hour," Alastor said. His eyes slowly moved back and forth between Angel and Charlie, who were still locked in a staring match with each other. "What must a man do to get his early morning space? You know that these hours are my cooking time."

"I dunno, it's not like we all wanna check on ya' because ya' just blacked out in front of me last night. Ya' were just starin' off into space, Smiles! Ya' wouldn't answer me! And I know ya' don't wanna hear it, but we do worry and care about ya'," Angel was actually beginning to sound genuinely upset with the deer in front of him, who was still blowing off his comments.

Alastor then began to notice the early stages of a headache forming. This was quite literally the worst possible time to have a seizure. Ok, maybe not the absolute worst possible time, but it was definitely up there. Despite how much he wanted to, he avoided rubbing at his temples. The good news was that he was pretty confident that he still had a decent amount of time left before it struck. 

"You all know what my maman used to say, now don't you," he began, gently waving his hand out to his fellow hotel inhabitants. "Si tu es dans la cuisine, tu dois te rendre utile. If you are in the kitchen, you must make yourself useful. Now, Charlotte, why don't you start to chop up the bananas, and Angel, you may find the rum." If he had them help, it would go quicker, and he'd have a chance to leave before the seizure. 

They began to get the work, muttering some stuff amongst themselves about their concern for Alastor. Angel kept swearing up and down that there was something bigger than a headache going on, while Charlie tried to argue that Alastor would be fine. It was just a headache, she was sure.

Their debate drew them to not even notice Alastor's abrupt silence. Though, he oftentimes would be silent whenever anyone else was in the kitchen with them. If he wasn't barking orders, he'd just silently cook and bake. But what they did notice, was the smell of one of the pieces of toast, tossed into the pan, beginning to burn. 

The stench hit their noses at the exact same moment, with both of them immediately snapping their heads towards the Radio Demon. If there was one thing they knew for certain about Alastor, it was that he never burned food, and especially French Toast. This was his maman's recipe, he always treated it with such dignity. He would never let a piece burn.

Angel was the first to make his way over to the deer, who still hovered over his stove top. His spatula was in his hand, but it wasn't really doing much. His arm was bent at the elbow and jerked a bit. The spider also noticed the other major sin that Alastor was committing, which was funny. For a man of sin he cared so much about sins while cooking. But yet, here he was. Alastor was looking away from his pan.

His other hand seemed to be mindlessly fumbling about. He was pulling on his shirt, with much less coordination than anyone had ever seen from him. He pretty clearly didn't know what he was doing with it. Angel also saw the look on his face, those same, blank eyes fixated yet staring into the abyss. He smacked his smiling lips together mindlessly. That creepy, quiet, chaotic static had returned.

"This is what I was talkin' bout, Charlie!" Angel sounded less than enthusiastic as he grabbed hold of Alastor's fidgeting arm. Now he just had to hope he didn't come to now. He knew his healing magic was gone, and he didn't want him sticking his entire hand in the hot pan. He gently lead him away from the stove top, turning off the burner with another hand. He was so thankful for his multitude of arms right now. 

Charlie knew that her headache theory was no longer standing. But that didn't mean that this was a reason to panic, right? Ok, maybe she did want to panic. But she couldn't afford to panic right now. Something was wrong with Alastor. Whatever it was, seemed quite bad, too. She rushed to Angel's side, where he now stood a few feet away from the burner, with Alastor still locked in the same position. 

"He gets like this, Char! He won't answer me, look at him, and ya' think this is justa headache? No, this ain't no headache. I dunno what is going on with Smiles but it ain't good." Angel continued to frantically wave one of his arms in front of Alastor's face. Considering the fact that he had burnt his French Toast, the spider was pretty confident that this episode had lasted longer than the one from the other night. 

"What is going on then, Angel?" Charlie's voice began to crack with fear as she watched Alastor, growing more and more uncomfortable by the moment. His eyes, those eyes looked so vacant. Alastor was such a powerful demon. The only bit of him he had left was that freakish smile, one that he couldn't drop no matter how much he tried. He was clearly not with them at the moment.

"And you think I know? If I knew I wouldn't be so freaked right now. Al, just, come on, snap out of it man!" It was like Angel was talking to a brick wall. But now he had a visibly upset princess at his side, too. He had to try to manage everyone. Her panic wasn't helping his own. "He's breathin', so that's good at least, that's the one thing we got goin' for us."

Footsteps began to click from behind the three of them. It was a tired, frustrated Vaggie. "What is all this commotion? What unholy hour is it anyway? Charlie, why are you up, I rolled over to cuddle you and you weren't there. What is going on in- here." Her tone dropped as she saw the scene, and she jogged over across the kitchen. "Uhm, what happened to Alastor?"

"You people needa stop asking me questions that I can't answer!" Angel barked, trying to pull the spatula out of Alastor's hand. He had a death grip on it. "Now Vaggie please over get your moth butt over here to help us, or just go back to bed or somethin'! I dunno any more than you do right now!"

The moth went to comfort her crying girlfriend, wrapping her into a warm hug. She glanced at Alastor, and the sight seemed all too familiar. Vaggie was a woman of many secrets herself, including much of her life as a human, before the whole fallen angel situation. She had died while she was in nursing school. She recognized what she saw in Alastor. 

"Hey, Angel, uhm, ok. Take a deep breath-" she tried to calm the frantic spider, and tugged at his arm which was attempting to rip the spatula from Alastor. 

"Seriously Vaggie? You want me to take a deep breath right now? Now is not the time for justa deep breath!" He jerked away from her touch, but was soon blocked from returning to the spatula. 

"I think he's having a seizure," the moth gently rubbed Angel's back, stepping away from her girlfriend. She motioned for him to move which, upon seeing that she was trying to take control of the situation, he backed away. She stepped up closer to Alastor and just watched him. She didn't try to take the spatula or touch him. There was nothing unsafe around him. "It's ok Al, you got this."

It was almost disconcerting to Charlie to see Vaggie so warm and calm with Alastor. She usually hated the jerk. Even since his wound she showed pretty much no compassion for him- she always said how he had what he got coming for him. But now, she was just standing in front of him, speaking calming words to him. She didn't even seem nervous in the slightest.

"Does anyone know how long this has been going on for?" She asked. She kept glancing towards the clock, trying to keep an approximate time from when she had come down. She shushed him, repeatedly reminding him that he was going to be ok. Such behavior from Vaggie towards anyone but Charlie was odd, but especially towards Alastor. 

"Probably three minutes," Charlie was uncertain, but she tried to give her girlfriend some semblance of an answer. "Though Angel said that this happened last night, at the party. That's why we came down, we wanted to ask him what was going on, and then we were talking, and then this started!" She waved her hand frantically towards the deer.

As she finished saying that, Alastor froze. His one arm stopped jerking, and his other arm fell back to his side. He stopped smacking his lips. However, his eyes stayed fixated on some spot above and behind from Vaggie. He was still pretty clearly unconscious, though his static sounds were now breaking up. Vaggie seemed to relax herself a little bit, as she reached out to gently rub his arm. 

"Come on, Al," Vaggie reassured. She smiled when she saw his eyes turn to her, a bit glazed over. He met her gaze, blinking heavily. "There you go, Alastor. There you are. Do you know where you're at right now, my friend?" Charlie started to wonder if something was wrong with Vaggie as well. Did she just call the Radio Demon her friend? 

"Why yes dear, I do apologize for that," he replied, rubbing his bangs out of his face a bit. "I'm very much fine, although my head does ache a bit. Now would you mind if I were to have some peace and quiet as I finish your breakfast, I apologize but the noise from voices can make my head pain even worse."

"Yeah no." Vaggie didn't mince her words, stepping in his shadow before he could jump into it. She crossed her arms, and seemed to be slowly returning to her normal attitude towards Alastor. "You, Alastor, just had a seizure. You can't deny it, I saw it, Angel saw it, and Charlie saw it. You had a seizure and you cannot avoid this conversation as much as you may want to. 

She had figured him out. This knowledge cut through his dizzy, dazed head like a knife. His eyes grew wide and his face panicked, before he calmed himself. He had to save this. He had to somehow talk his way out of this one. He didn't know much about Vaggie- in her afterlife or otherwise- but it was pretty clear that she knew of what she spoke. 

"A seizure? My dear Vagatha, you don't really think that, do you now?" He rubbed her head in a manner as condescending as her could pull off, but he reeled back at the pain shooting past his temples. 

"Alastor, I am not dumb. I went to nursing school. There, another thing no one knows about me. I know what a complex partial seizure looks like," she was monotone as she glared at him. 

He tried to laugh in reply, but his head was just throbbing far too much. He spun a bit, but the dizziness nearly overcame him. He practically fell into Vaggie's arms. "My dear, if you went to nursing school, don't you think you would know that what I had just happen was simply a migraine? Charlie has already informed me that she will help me treat it. There is no reason to get yourself preoccupied."

"I know what a migraine looks like, pendejo. You really think I didn't have them for the entirely of my human life?" She stared at him for a moment, her expression softening as she did so. As much as she hated him, she realized just how scared he looked. Was this new? Was this somehow from the fight with Adam? She would somehow have to put aside her disdain. "Alastor, you had a seizure. Was that the first time?"

"Fine! Ok! I have epilepsy! There! I said it! Everyone happy now!" Alastor screamed it all out, and watched as everyone looked at each other, and then back at him. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear? Alastor, the great Radio Demon, has epilepsy! Seizures! I'm weak! Are those the words you wanted?"

Chapter Text

The room was suddenly quiet, except for the now decidedly angry and panicked static noises coming from Alastor. He clutched at his head as his breath raced, and he crouched down to the ground, attempting to fight off the urge to go full demon form. This wasn't their fault. They were probably terrified. But they should have just let him be. 

Charlie tried to walk closer to him, holding her hand out, but Angel held her back. No, not now. He was in a full panic mode, and the last thing they needed right now was for the demon form to come out and hurt Charlie, or anyone else for that matter. Alastor would never intentionally hurt a woman, but he could lash out at the Princess. They already had a full blown mess on their hands. 

Although Angel was restraining her, Charlie spoke up. "Alastor, no. It doesn't make you weak, Al. We're here to help you, we love you!" Her comments appeared to mostly fall on deaf ears, as Alastor squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the dials away. Ever since his staff got broken, he had so much less control of his demon form. It no longer listened to him telling it to go away. So now, he was here. 

For a few minutes, they waited as Alastor calmed himself. They were all a bit stunned to say the least. None of them had ever seen him so panicked. But slowly, he was calming down, looking through teary eyes as he wiped them. "I'm- I deeply apologize for the outburst. None of you were supposed to know any of this. I expect that it will not be let out, am I right?"

All three of them nodded quickly, however, they all doubted that that was the case. They would, at very least, have to inform Husk and Niffty eventually, right? Maybe even the King himself? But that could wait. That could wait for a not so urgent situation. Right now, they wanted to let the Radio Demon know that they were there for him. Even Vaggie was slowly \coming to realize that she could stand him. 

Carefully, Charlie got a little closer, offering a hand to help him get back to his feet. He took it, still a bit wobbly as he stood. By now, he'd usually allowed himself to sit and rest after a seizure. He didn't have that luxury this time. And a panic attack immediately following a seizure was probably not the very best thing for his pounding head. "Al, we're here for you," Charlie said, "and we will help you."

Those words were a mistake. He had to use all of his strength to not jump back into demon form. He was the Radio Demon, not just someone who needed their help. He knew that they had good intentions, but Alastor would not accept any sort of help from anyone. It just would not do. Ok, maybe except by Rosie. She was allowed to help him. He pulled a deep breath in. "My dear, I do think that I am perfectly capable without help."

"It's honestly surprising to me," Vaggie said, a smirk beginning to creep across her grey face. "that someone as strong and powerful as the Radio Demon would be so fearful of accepting a bit of help from his allies. Honestly, doesn't sound like a great deal making strategy, am I right?" She was playing to his ego, and Charlie and Angel figured it out judging by her facial expression. She knew how to get it out of him. 

Alastor realized that he was fully backed into a corner now- literally and figuratively. He just didn't want to be taken care of or watched over anxiously. He was better than that. "I will accept your help under a few certain conditions, but under the promise that no one will know about this besides us, and I don't want to be fawned over," once Angel giggled, Alastor growled back, "no pun intended."

"Fine, deal," Vaggie replied, "but no magic voodoo handshakes or any other mierda that you would like to pull. But you have to share some information with us. We have to get you better, and I do believe that we can. Let me start here, has this just been a thing since ever or was this started after Adam? And, like, if you have always had it, how did you not tell us or let on?"

"My dear, I was born with it, or so we suspect," he lied again at her, but it was a comforting lie, one he was beginning to believe himself. "The healing magic in my staff kept the seizures at bay. I was fortunate to have that. Before that, Rosie would offer me assistance. She's working with the doctors in Cannibal Town as we speak to get me a new staff with healing magic in it."

"While we wait for them to do that, I'm sure we could get you some medicine for that, too! I bet my dad could summon it and everything will be fine!" Charlie sounded hopeful, too hopeful. Hopeful in a way that made Vaggie uncomfortable, knowing that Alastor was probably far too stubborn to take medicine. "And don't complain about the side effects, I'm sure we could figure something out!"

Vaggie's suspicions were quickly confirmed. "A medication for headaches is one thing, my dear. Your father dearest would probably assume that you had fallen ill. But if he suspected that his sweet princess was having seizures, well, I'm sure he would make you take those medicines. You should never take something that you don't need. And I do not want the King finding out about my predicament."

"What about the doctors in Cannibal Town? Maybe they would be able to get you some medicine! They love you over there, Alastor!" Charlie was once again too enthusiastic. 

"I'm afraid that medicine could go on a record and be discovered. Charlie, it is imperative that this stays a secret. The fact that they already know and are working with off the books magic to fix it scares me," he replied.

"Hold on," Angel Dust's voice finally spoke out among the group, crossing both sets of arms across his chest. "Let's go back a bit. Ya' said that ya' were born with it, eh? I'm no doctor but I'm pretty sure that ya' don't usually keep things that ya' were born with in Hell. Ya' keep things that ya' get later on, from sinnin' and stuff. If ya' born paralyzed, ya' can walk here. If ya' get in a fight and get paralyzed from that, boom, ya' can't walk in Hell." 

Alastor gulped. Well, if he wasn't already embarrassed enough, Angel had decided to get him there. "Maybe I'm the exception to said rule," he said, turning away from the group. "My dearest Angel Dust, I don't know just how much you know about the demonic anatomy of hell. I'm the Radio Demon- if Hell didn't give me some setback, I'd run this place by now."

"Angel's right," Vaggie said, "you must have acquired it somehow. However you did, it can't be that bad considering the fact that we already all know you're a cannibalistic serial killer. So, uh, yeah, I see no reason to be embarrassed about it. We're in Hell, I think that would be a point of pride, but what do I know?"

"I got into a fight," Alastor just decided to tell them that. It technically was true. "There was some diable who was hurting an innocent woman that I knew, a perfect one at that. I was young and fought him for her- I was a pretty brave young man, if I would say so myself. I was struck in the head, but not only did I take care of him on earth, but I took care of him in Hell, too."

"Good job, Smiles," Angel replied, trying to take up Vaggie's tactic of using Alastor's ego against him. It seemed to work for her, and, even though he wouldn't say it, he was genuinely curious about what went down. "Who is that jerk? I'd bet ya' actual money that he was prolly in the porn studios at one point or another, runnin' them or buyin' stuff. Good to see the bad guys get their due."

The deer's mind was still quite a bit foggy and dazed from his seizure. He usually had to sleep- or at least rest- it off. But unfortunately, it seemed like right now, that was not an option. It was questioning time, whether he liked it or not. So, in his attempt to answer Angel's question, he slipped. "My head is still aching, and I'm struggling to remember the name of my papa- I mean my prochain, my neighbor-"

It was too late. Three pairs of eyes stared at him in shock. He could play it off all that he wanted to, but at this point, he was screwed. Everyone had heard him mention his father. Charlie was the first of the three to speak up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Al, did- did your dad do that to you?"

"Oh no my dearest," Alastor's voice hitched a bit as he spoke. "You see, I'm sure your nurse girlfriend could testify to this, but after a brain goes through such a thing, well, it will need a bit to recover. It was trying to say prochain, it means neighbor in French. The word papa came out. It was just a slip of the tongue, an unfortunate one at that. But he was merely a neighbor."

"No one believes you, Alastor," Vaggie began to raise her voice, but quickly quieted herself, noticing him wince at the pain in his head. "Yes, I know that you need a bit to recover. But that was not a slip of the tongue. As good as I was as a nurse, I am far much better at reading people. You are lying through your yellow, pointed teeth right now and you know it. I'm not gonna push, but just know. It's ok to tell us the truth."

"He was not a good man," Alastor's voice trailed off, as he looked out the window. The first rays of daybreak in Hell were starting to shine through. "I'm not going to claim to be a good man myself, I take pride in not being one. But the things he did to my maman, when I came to discover that Hell wasn't eternal torture, I made him his own version of that. Anyways, could we return to the topic at hand? We can discuss that at another hour."

Charlie smiled, nodding her head to confirm her feelings to her friends. "Al is right, maybe this isn't overly important to the actual issue. We want to help you, Al. Can you tell us, like, what to do, if you have another one? If not for Vaggie coming down here, Angel and I would still be panicking! We really didn't know how to help you- sorry."

Vaggie rolled her eyes, but she just accepted what Charlie said. She was right, there wasn't much that had to do with one thing to another. The moth knew that they would eventually have to talk to him about it, but for right now, they could let it go. There were more important things. "Yeah, what would you like us to do, and do you know your triggers?"

The Radio Demon sighed, allowed himself to relax a bit. At least they weren't trying to dig out the worst parts of the story. He'd rather not talk about it at all, but he was far too tired to fight with them. "I don't know what triggers it, dearest. Existing seems to be the cause. And knowing how to help should not be your concern either, dearies. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Alastor," Angel's voice was stern, looking the deer dead in the eyes, "are ya' kiddin' me? Ya' almost burned ya' hand off there! Did ya' not notice that ya' nearly put your hand into a steamin' hot pan? Ya' can give me thanks when ya' want to, I stopped that from happenin'. Just tell us whatta expect and whatta do," the spider shrugged, waiting for Alastor's thankfulness. 

"Whatever," Alastor finally conceded, realizing that he was probably going to have to share some information with them if he wanted to go rest. He was far too exhausted to use his powers to get away at this point. "Rosie always says to not touch me, or if you do, do so gently. Please don't move me unless an emergency- like putting my hand in a pan. And please don't put anything in my mouth until I awake."

All of the group nodded, before Charlie cut in. "Wait, you have mentioned Rosie a few times now. You said that she was taking care of you, and was working with the doctors in Cannibal Town to help. So, she knows all this? She knows how to help you?" Charlie wondered if it would be worth it to try to pry her for more information. She'd probably say more if that meant Alastor could be helped. 

"Rosie knows pretty much everything, Charlotte. She knew it before I did. She takes care of me in a way that few can. She looked at a weakling like me and helped me out," his voice cracked, thinking about the cannibal woman who he loved so dearly. She was his second maman. "Rosie also said that sometimes I'd wander, by the way. I figure at this point I may as well reveal every bit of embarrassing stuff about me."

"Please, Al, this is nothing to be embarrassed about," Vaggie said kindly, once again trying to push exactly who she was talking to out of her mind. "And it far from makes you weak. Don't call yourself a weakling. You know, I thought such a gentleman like you would be above lying straight to a woman's face. Yet that's what you're doing, saying it makes you weak."

Those words hit Alastor hard. He got lost in thought for a moment, but he was just too tired to think, too tired to try to process all that he had been told. Putain, Vaggie was good at using himself against him. "I think that's a point worth thinking about, but for now, as I'm sure even you, Vagatha, would say, I need some rest. I was not lying about the headaches- the seizures lead to miserable ones."

"They definitely can," Vaggie said, turning around to face Charlie and Angel, "I'm not entirely positive how demon brains work but if they work like human ones Al really needs some rest. Why don't you two tontos go back to bed, and I will make some huevos rancheros," she teased affectionately, "and Al can get back into bed himself. He needs all the rest he can get."

Both of them nodded and gave Alastor hugs- Angel wondered if Alastor was more out of it than he thought, with how much he welcomed even his embrace. But even once they were both gone, Vaggie stayed planted in the kitchen, looking up at the tall, red demon in front of her. She hated him, but she did feel bad for him. She hated that she felt bad for him, but she did. 

The two of them looked at each other for a while, Vaggie not so patiently waiting for him to retreat into his shadows to leave, but he didn't. He seemed exhausted. She began to clean up his work space, with him gently thanking her along the way, before she went into the fridge to try to find her ingredients. Her mamá used to always make these. She missed her mamá- just as it seemed Alastor missed his. 

Finally, he spoke up. "Vagatha, I promise it is fine, you can sleep as well. I would be more than fine to finish this breakfast, that everyone was counting on. I'm sure your- whatever you have decided to make can't bat an eye towards the delicacy that is my maman's recipe. You need rest dear, I'm sure your girlfriend will have some exciting activities for you tomorrow!" He added, mockingly. 

"Look, I don't like you either. But I think that we may have more in common than I thought. I miss my mamá, too. Huevos rancheros were her signature breakfast. She was a wonderful woman from San Salvador. Her first hubby was a mess, too. He- I know what you mean. I get why you don't like your dad. I was there, too. Thankfully she found my papá before I died. He was a kind soul, he treated her well. He taught me a lot of things."

"My maman never got to meet a man who loved her. I- I never got to save her. I tried and tried again, but, I lost her. I got the last laugh, though. And I get it every day, Vagatha, you could not imagine what I have done to him since I got here. He was my first kill on earth, and here in Hell too. That's how I found out demons bleed," he jumped from his thoughts. "But anyways, thanks, Vagatha. You may rest now."

"You can rest, Al. You need it. And like, I wanna be clear with you. I hate you, baboso. But, if you need to talk, or if you need help figuring all of this out, I'm here. I'm a pretty good secret keeper, if I do say so myself. So I guess just give me a call. I can help you after one, too. I was trained in this stuff. Or I could call Rosie. Whatever you need," she actually sounded genuine.

"Well, if you insist, I guess I could rest for a bit," Alastor said, patting Vaggie's white hair. "I appreciate your, well, compassion for me, although it is far from neccesary, Vagatha dearest. What I do find particularly enjoyable amongst all this, however, is how you do seem to be liking me now. What a turn in events that even I could not see coming."

Vaggie rolled her eyes. "I don't like you, Alastor. Honestly far from it. I hate you and I know that you're not a good guy. I promise you I wouldn't be acting so friendly if it weren't for Charlie. She sees something in that deer body of yours that she thinks is good. I'm just doing this for her, whatever makes her happy. She cares about you, Alastor. You better not mess this up."

"Whatever you say," he said with a yawn. His head was pounding the worst it had been all night. "I must be off to bed now, and in the morning I think I will go to visit my dear friend Rosie. I can have some naive hope that she has my staff ready by now, right? Well, I must bid you adieu, good night, Vaggie."

Chapter Text

The next few days in the Hazbin Hotel were off to say the least. Ever since the confrontation with Alastor in the kitchen, he hadn't been around as much- well, less than he already was. He was supposedly spending his time at Rosie's. Besides the three with him that morning, everyone else just assumed that he was healing from his angelic wounds. In a way, one could suppose that he was. 

He would typically leave in the morning and come back in the evening, seemingly fine, but that still wasn't enough of a comfort to Charlie. She missed having Alastor around, and she was genuinely worried for his safety. She had no doubts in Rosie, but that still didn't mean that she wasn't concerned for the Radio Demon, especially if he wasn't even trying to start medicines.

Vaggie didn't like him- she never had, and never would. But there was still a small part of her, too, that cared. It was mostly for Charlie's sake, as she hated seeing her girlfriend so nervous about him. She didn't trust him, but that didn't mean that Charlie didn't, even if she had warned her not to. Every private conversation between the two girlfriends was centered on the Princess' concern for him. 

Her background in nursing school didn't help much either. She knew that look of someone absolutely terrified, someone being faced with a medical challenge that they weren't prepared for. In her eyes, Alastor sucked, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel some level of compassion for him. If she would have lived long enough to become a nurse, she would have had to care for many people that she didn't take a liking to. 

When she was in school, she was often plagued by the thought that she would have to end up caring for her biological father someday. Sure, there were many hospitals in Chicago, but you never knew where you would run into someone. Could she look at that sick hijo de puta in the face and help him? She thankfully never had to be faced with that fear, at least until now. 

Sure, she couldn't prove that Alastor was actually ever going to hurt Charlie. In fact, she was inclined to think that he wouldn't. That still didn't absolve him of the whole serial killer and cannibal thing. That still didn't fix her perception of him. The question of if she would have been so worried about her biological father hung so deeply over her head. Was Hell really starting to get to her?

Part of her concern was coming from the newly stemmed fact that she had some urge to go check on him. Part of her wanted to go out of her way and visit Rosie's, just to truly see how he was doing. She knew that it was, at least in part, just wanting to fulfill the goals that she never got to complete among the living. In some ways she was thankful that she didn't need her skills for someone she liked, but she still hated every second of this. 

A certain familiar porn star spider strutting over towards the couch in the lobby she was seated on pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. He took a seat next to her, wrapping both of his left arms around her, and pulled her in for a hug. She barely reacted, only leaning more into his fluff- she had to admit that it felt comforting when she was like this. She also soon felt the familiar tingle of the squishy nose of a pig on her ankle.

"Ya' worried about Al too, Vaggie?" Angel said, gently scratching her back. For him to call her by her real name was weird, and it was a good sign of just how much he felt for her. When she only hummed in response, he continued, "Yeah, I am too. Weird to see him so vulnerable like that, it just don't make sense. I wish he'd stick around here a bit more so we could talk with him."

"Would it be downright stupid of me to go over there and see how he's doing," Vaggie wondered aloud, a bit surprised that the words actually came out of her mouth. She felt Angel pull back in shock a bit, before resettling into his normal position. With his two right arms, he picked up Fat Nuggets and placed the pig on her lap. 

"Al'd double kill us," the spider teased, "I bet ya' that he'd triple kill us if he could. I'm sure he don't want us in his business with Rosie, if ya' know what I mean," Angel began to absentmindedly stroke Fat Nuggets as well, smiling a bit as he saw him curling up into Vaggie's lap. He did seem to have a way to know when demons could use a bit of extra love. 

"I promise you that he and Rosie are not a thing, but they're definitely close," Vaggie rolled her eyes at Angel, who rolled his in return. She wasn't there for the whole incident, but Charlie had told her about the whole 'ace in the hole' comment. It explained some things to her, but she didn't feel like going out of her way to tell Angel Dust Alastor's business, especially since she wasn't sure if he even knew what that meant. 

"Well, if ya' don't think he and Rosie are gettin' active together, I don't see why we shouldn't just pop on over. Maybe besides the whole cannibal thing but I think they respect ya' as the Princess' girlfriend and all, toots. Smiles needs to know we care," the two of the stood up, Angel quickly taking the pink pig back into one of his sets of arms. He trusted Vaggie, but not enough to carry Fat Nuggets across Hell.

The walk across Hell to Cannibal Town felt longer than it truly was. Angel got lots of looks and comments and camera flashes from fans, but he had learned to ignore them by now. The thought of Sinstagram blowing up the next day with Gay Porn Star Angel Dust Shocks The World With A Girlfriend, but he had learned to tune out the rumors too. It wasn't like Vaggie wasn't known as the Princess' girlfriend throughout all of Hell, either. 

But once the pair actually arrived in Cannibal Town, they realized that they had no clue where Rosie was located. They found her Emporium, but the staff said that she wasn't there. No one in town was very forthcoming about where she lived. They understood why the residents would be protective of her, especially if they knew that something was up with Alastor, but someone had to know that they were from the Hotel.

Finally, outside of a simple row house, on its front patio, Vaggie spotted a large, recognizable sun hat in a beautiful shade of maroon. That was Rosie, the head of Cannibal Town. Tugging on one of Angel's free arms, she led him to the base of the cannibal's front steps. Before she could even get a word out, the woman spun around. She looked surprised, but kind. 

She offered them a large, toothy grin. Vaggie couldn't help but feel a twinge of angst around her. "Oh hello there, dearies! What are you two doin' all the way over here in Cannibal Town? Who am I kiddin', we all know exactly why you're here. Do you both wanna come in?" With a wave of her arm, she ushered the two nervous sinners inside of her home. 

It was beautifully decorated, covered in similar shades of pinks, maroons, reds, greys, and whites that the woman herself wore. The room smelled heavily of tea, and sitting on her cream colored couch, ironically enough covered in a rose pattern, was a mildly frustrated Alastor. He still kept that smile up, but he looked in disdain at them out of the corners of his bright red eyes.

"May I ask what you two good fellows are doing here," Alastor turned his head to look at them, somehow with his neck remaining still in the process. Vaggie was starting to regret her decision to come here- somehow, she had seemingly forgotten just how creepy this, well, creep was. Why did she even come to visit him? She had no clue what had happened to her. She was literally standing in a cannibal's house with Alastor.

"Al, I'm pretty sure your buddies here came to check on you! You're a popular homme, mon ami!" She sat down closely next to him and ran those creepy grey boney fingers through his fluffy red hair. Vaggie was shocked. There was no hesitation to touch him, and he even seemed to lean into her touch. Angel couldn't have been right, right? There was no way these two were a couple. 

"I have my doubts that these two would ever venture out to check on me, unless the Princess put them up to it," he leaned his head back into her shoulder, prompting an even wider grin from Rosie.

The moth rolled her eyes in return, coming to stand in front of the pair. The way she held him was almost maternal- and then it hit her. He had always talked about his maman. Rosie was his second one. 

"You know, all we wanted to do is check on you Alastor. Charlie has been worried sick. It must be so difficult having friends, am I right?" Vaggie was a bit annoyed, yet far from surprised, with how the deer was taking their visit. Of course he didn't want them there, but the least he could do was show a little bit of thankfulness that someone at least showed up for him. 

"Miss Charlotte should not worry herself over me, and neither should the two of you," Alastor waved his hand dismissively towards Vaggie. "I know she likes to preoccupy herself, and I apologize that she dragged you of all demons into my mess. But please, tell her that I am doing well and that my staff should be done shortly. Once it is, I will return to the Hotel at once."

Angel shrugged his shoulders and nodded, turning to head out the door, seemingly thinking that the response was adequate. But was quickly tugged back by Vaggie. She pulled him right back to being at her side, and he froze. Vaggie could be just as stubborn as Alastor when she needed to be. It was in that moment that he realized that this was going to be a battle of the wills, and probably a long and difficult one. 

Rosie stood up, and pulled over two chairs for the guests. She motioned for them to sit, which Angel did, and, with hesitancy, Vaggie eventually did, too. They were offered some snacks, but without much thought, turned them down. Who knows what Rosie's definition of a snack was. They were also offered tea, but were unsure if they would find blood in it, so they passed on that, too.

The group sat for a while, over an hour at least. Rosie was asking their two visitors all sorts of questions about themselves, which Angel was gladly answering, but Vaggie not so much. Rosie was a friend of Alastor's, so she didn't trust her, either. At least she seemed much kinder than the man. Her questions seemed genuine enough. But Vaggie couldn't help herself but to be notice- and to notice Angel Dust's frantic expressions. 

Despite his prattling to Rosie- about his life, afterlife, career, that bartender at the hotel- his eyes kept darting over to where Alastor was sitting. He frequently interrupted himself, and Rosie, to just double check if the Radio Demon was ok. Neither Vaggie nor Rosie were nervous. After all, Alastor was engaging in the conversation, well, as much as one could expect from him. 

After a bit, Rosie was the one to ask Angel if he was ok. She saw just how nervous he looked, at this point, his eyes were practically locked on Alastor. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, still keeping his gaze, "I just- I don't know Rosie, will ya' know if Al is about to, ya' know, I just, sorry. I don't know what I'm tryna' say here. Just, carry on." 

"Very well," Rosie turned back to carry on the conversation. She seemed unbothered by Angel's sudden franticness, but Vaggie was bothered quite a bit. He was petting Fat Nuggets like there was no tomorrow, a clear sign that the spider was nervous. The pig was laying in Angel's lap, sniffing his owner up and down. It would be cute if it didn't mean that Angel was freaked out. 

Their conversation continued on for a bit, with Vaggie growing more and more uncomfortable with Angel as time went on. His angst was making her anxious. She wondered if they should leave, it was pretty clear to her that it was Alastor that was freaking him out. She wasn't entirely sure why. He didn't seem this freaked out even when he had the seizure practically in his arms a few nights before.

Before she could ask the question, Fat Nuggets quite suddenly jumped out of the spider's lap, resulting in him lurching forward to grab him. Somehow, despite having two whole pairs of arms out at the moment and a third readily available to him, he missed the jumping pig. Nuggets sat at the base of Alastor's feet, snorting and oinking. He was joined by the pink poodle that Vaggie hadn't even noticed was in the home. 

"Oh! Thank you my love!" Rosie chuckled a bit at her poodle, who was scratching at Alastor's legs. She let Alastor lean into her more, burying his head into her velveteen dress. "Vaggie, Angel, I hate to do this to you guys, but I think Al is on his way out," she looked back towards him, his eyes wincing with pain. "Belle gets upset, I don't know how but she knows when he's about ready to go out. If you guys wanna leave, I wouldn't blame ya!"

"We're good," Vaggie replied, standing up and sitting right back down, on the other side of Alastor. She once again wondered why she cared so much for this dumb jerk of a deer. She rubbed his back assuringly, before looking up at the spider, frozen in place across from her. "Hey Angel, are you alright? You don't look so good over there."

She felt Alastor lean back into her arms a bit, shifting himself over, more or less in control of his own movements. Judging by his blank expression, and the twitching of his hands, Vaggie figured that he was pretty much out. He seemed to relax slightly in her grasp, and she carefully held him. She didn't grab him too tightly, but just enough so that his head wouldn't roll back. 

Alastor was biting his lip pretty hard, which Vaggie noticed, but she wasn't going to stop him. He would be ok. She just had to wait it out. It was like some part of her, the part of her that had always dreamed, since she was a little girl, to be a nurse, that part of her was taking over. She never made it that far, but seemingly, ironically enough, Hell had given her a second chance. 

As she held him, she looked up to see Rosie jumping out of her seat. Vaggie found that a bit odd, since she did seem to like to be near him, especially in a state like this. That's when she noticed where she had went- to Angel, who was hyperventilating in his chair. Maldición. She couldn't really stand up, Alastor was still out cold on her. But thankfully, Rosie seemed to know what to do. 

The woman sat in the chair in which Vaggie was previously sitting, pulling it closer to the panicking spider as she sat. She began to gently rub his back. "Hey, Angel, darlin', can you take a few deep breaths for me? It' will all be ok my love, it will be done soon," Rosie was just as naturally comforting to him as she was with Alastor, pulling him into a hug as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Vaggie, hun, do you think you will be ok if I left you with Al? I'm gonna take Angel to the kitchen if you don't mind," Vaggie nodded, and Rosie stood up, helping Angel stand up with her. He was careful to not look in his direction, darting off towards the kitchen, with Rosie following close behind. She reached in her fridge for a bit of cold water, which she assured him had nothing besides water in it.

Angel shut the door behind him with one of his many free hands. He felt like his legs were about to give out on him. Rosie wrapped herself around him, encouraging him to breathe. "Rosie," his voice cracked as he spoke, fully giving in to the woman's embrace, "Rosie, is, is he gonna be alright? I don't like seein' Al like this! I knew it was gonna happen!"

"I know it's scary dear, but it will be ok. I don't promise many things in this afterlife, but I promise you that. Vaggie's gonna take great care of Al," with that, about a half a minute of silence came upon the two, as she gently rocked Angel in her arms. She remembered the first time she saw Alastor like this. She remembered the second and the third. She remembered when someone else finally stepped in. When she could let her guard down.

"Hey, I think we're good now!" Vaggie called, barely above her usual tone, into the other room. Rosie walked Angel back into the living room, and they saw the moth carefully helping Alastor sit up. He still looked a little dazed, and held his head in his hands. "He's coming back. Just a little dazed and achy now, huh," she rubbed comforting circles into his back. 

It was over. That's what Angel kept trying to tell himself. The worst had passed and now it was fine- except it wasn't. He heard Alastor call out his name, realizing that his friend was in the room. He heard Rosie repeat it, taking hold of one of his hands. But it felt like the entire living room was spinning. He couldn't feel his chest anymore. He couldn't look away from Alastor's glaring red eyes. 

"Do- do you think we can leave now, Vaggie?" Angel felt like he could barely pull the words from his lips. He watched as the moth stood up and came to his side, before realizing that Rosie was no longer there. She had taken Vaggie's place on the couch, just in case he fell. "I don't feel good, I needa get back to the Hotel."

"My dear Angel, I'm ok!" Alastor tried to stand up, but quickly sat back down in his chair. He too sounded like he was having difficulty getting the words out of his mouth, but for different reasons. His head pounded, and he could taste a trace amount of blood on his lower lip. He must have bit down harder than usual. He leaned into Rosie for a hug, allowing himself to close his eyes to block out the light. 

Vaggie began to walk towards the door, Angel in tow. She mouthed her apologies to Rosie as she picked up Fat Nuggets, then lead the crying spider outside with her. He still looked shaken up, his eyes not leaving Alastor until he left the room. She passed his piglet to him, watching as he snuggled up close to his owner. A thought crossed Vaggie’s mind. 

“Angel, do you think that maybe having Fat Nuggets around wild actually help?” She asked, giving the piglet a pat on the head as well. “He reacted just like Rosie’s dog did when he knew something was off with Alastor. Consider him a service pig. Would that work? Can pigs really do that? I don’t know, it’s Hell, who knows how things work.”

He laughed at her monologue. She was still the newbie here- in all fairness, he wasn't sure either. But it was worth a shot. He didn't necessarily trust Alastor with his precious pig, but maybe that Radio Demon was growing on him a bit. He shook his head, wiping the tears from his fluffy face. "Whatever would get Alastor back, right? I hate to admit it but I do miss the guy."

"Same," Vaggie smirked, looking down at her feet. "I hope he knows that we aren't going to judge him for a seizure, you know? We're sinners but I don't think we're that bad. Eh, let's talk more back at the Hotel. Don't want to say anything outside of Cannibal Town," they both knew that Cannibal Town was a safe place to talk about this. The rest of Hell? Not so much. Unfortunately, the moth may have noticed that just a bit too late.

Chapter Text

Vaggie held the door open for Angel as he slowly walked in, quickly greeted by Charlie practically jumping into four of his arms. He took her in his embrace, although he was definitely still not feeling in the greatest mood for the hug. He walked over to a red plush chair in the corner and sunk into it. He was finally able to relax for the first time since they left for Rosie’s. 

The girlfriends exchanged a kiss and a hug of their own, with the moth running her grey fingers through her girlfriend’s long braid. Charlie was hopeful that they at least found something out about Alastor, but she knew that he wouldn’t be forthcoming, and she had her doubts about Rosie. She seemed to often take Alastor’s side in things. 

“So, how was he?” Charlie asked, taking hold of her girlfriend’s hand as the two of them walked to chairs, near that of Angel. "I'm surprised he even let you in. I have tried to say hi to him in the mornings before he leaves, or right before he goes to bed, but he usually runs off before I can. I'm- I hate to say it, but I'm really worried about him.

"He's as good as he could be," Vaggie squeezed her girlfriend's pale hand in hers, and planted a small kiss on her cheek. Charlie's face blushed over. "He had one again. I hate that I actually want to help that jerk now. I just feel bad, I wish there was more I could do for him. Thankfully it wasn't bad at least. Rosie said that he's having two or three a day. It sucks, Charlie, this whole situation really sucks."

"I don't like it," the spider leaned his head back in the chair, placing one of his long arms over his shut eyes. He was starting to get a headache himself. Everything hurt, actually. "Seein' him that way- look, I know that this ain't about me, but it's still rough. I dunno what happened to me! I took care of it twice, I was fine the first two times, now I can barely breathe and I'm panickin' even before one starts! What's wrong with me?"

"That's ok, Angel. It's, I get it, it's really scary. And especially once you're no longer in crisis mode- the first two times this happened, you were the one having to fix the situation. It's amazing how much you bottle up and I think it just comes out sometimes. I went to nursing school and it still really bugged me to see him like that," Vaggie grabbed hold of one of his free hands. 

Charlie comforted him as well, leaving her seat to hug him again once she heard his muffled cries. He took as deep of breaths as he possibly could, trying to keep himself from spiraling again, but the image was still stuck in his mind. He didn't even understand why it bothered him so much! He was hesitant to call Alastor a friend, but yet seeing him like that, it terrified him. 

Angel didn't want to complain. He knew that this really wasn't his issue. Alastor was the one who was dealing with it, he was the one who had to live through the seizures. Rosie was the one who had to care for him. Charlie was the one whose hotel was at stake here. This really wasn't his thing to be upset about. But yet, here he was, finding himself breaking down in the Hotel lobby. 

The spider really didn’t understand what his issue was. Especially when he had handled it so well before. What shifted in him that resulted in him being a panicked mess at Rosie’s? And now, thinking about Alastor eventually returning to the Hotel, a new worry set in. He would be constantly freaking out over him, wouldn’t he? Maybe it was the complete unpredictability of it all that he hated the most. 

“Maybe Al will come back soon!” Charlie’s cheery voice brought Angel back from his thoughts. How could she be so happy about the whole situation? This wasn’t something to be happy about. He was screwed either way- either worrying because Alastor wasn’t there, or worrying if he was on the verge of a seizure at any moment. He didn’t like this. He felt so beyond selfish. 

“We did figure something out though- it seems to be that Fat Nuggets can sense one before it comes on,” it was like Vaggie could read Angel’s frantic mind. He did notice that at Rosie’s. He wondered if Alastor would be up for having the piglet around, even if it was more of a comfort to the spider than to the deer himself. But the idea of a warning seemed nice. 

It didn’t stop Angel from freaking out completely, but it helped to calm his nerves a little bit, just enough to speak. “Do ya’ all think that he’s gonna be alright? I know I shouldn’t check so much but I feel like I have to, I wanna go check on him right now but I know what’s best for me,” he reached into one of his pockets to pull out a cigarette and a lighter. “The checkin’ helps.”

Vaggie took one of his free hands into hers, squeezing it. "Angel, I promise you it will be alright. We're going to fix this somehow, and even if we can't, well, it'll be good. Alastor, for better or for worse, would take a lot more than this to get off of our backs," she smiled at Angel's shy smile in return. "Now, who wants some snacks?"

When she returned, she set the plate down on the table between the three chairs, when a knock was heard at the door. Charlie jumped up, practically squealing. "Do we have a new guest here at the Hotel?" Vaggie tried to caution her- she would recognize that knock from anywhere- but she was too late. Charlie flung the door wide opened and was greeted by the only thing better than a guest. It was Alastor. 

Charlie was a smart girl, she always asked Alastor before touching him. But yet, here she was, without even thinking about it, practically clinging to him. She was so excited to see him. She’d seen him in passing around the hotel, at times when nobody else was around. But here he was, in front of everyone, making his grand return. She was so excited to see him safe and well. 

"Well, if it isn't the Radio Demon himself," Vaggie said, offering a hand to shake. He tugged on her hand, leaning over to give her a polite, gentlemanly kiss, before her grunt made him realize what she was going for. He shook it firmly, still giving her a gracious nod of his head. He had to keep some of his manners, after all. 

"Look, Smiles, I'm sorry about whatever happened at Rosie's there. That wasn't very right of me. Ya' freaked me out! But that's not an excuse, really. I prolly made the whole thing worse. It ain't even my problem!" Angel looked anxiously at his twiddling thumbs from his lower set of hands, one from his upper set holding the now lit cigarette in his mouth. 

"I see no reason to apologize, my dear," Alastor was nonchalant about the whole thing, maybe even a bit too nonchalant for him. He dismissed Angel with a wave of his hand. "There is no reason to preoccupy your little self with all of my nonsense. You should just go on your merry way, continuing with whatever, well, rather distasteful activities that you tend to keep yourself occupied with."

The moth couldn't help herself but to laugh at Alastor's wording. If there was one thing that she knew for certain about the man, it was that he had his way with words. She stopped her giggle upon noticing Angel's less than pleased look that he shot at her. He turned back towards Alastor, leaning his elbow on the armrest and placing his head in his hand. 

"As much as I hate to say this, I do agree with Alastor," Vaggie said, her tone suddenly turning serious. "There's no reason for you to be sorry, Angel. Even if it's not your problem, as you put it, it's still scary, it can still be really difficult to watch. I don't blame you for freaking out. No one would. We'll all get through this, together, ok?"

"There was just no need for me to freak out as much as I did," Angel sighed, closing his eyes as he puffed his cigarette. He felt like he had to apologize, even if he knew that Alastor would never apologize to him, for anything. "I wasn't even the one helping! That was Vaggie! Look, nothin's holdin' me to you, I could just get on up and leave whenever. And yet I'm nervous! I ain't the one with the seizures now am I?"

Alastor's expression was, in a rare fashion, easy to read. "Angel, I'd prefer you not say such things so loudly. Some things are the best to only keep between the four of us, and Rosie."

"Say what things?" The voice came from behind the group, who all spun around at once, looking at the tiny cyclops maid who now stood with her wide eye, staring at them. "Do you have secrets? I love secrets!"

Vaggie just about screamed. Seriously? Niffty? Now? She always had a knack for sneaking up on people at the worst possible moment. This seemed to be no exception. She left it to Alastor to try to explain it away- Niffty actually listened to Alastor, unlike to the rest of them. But yet, she kept talking. "Do you have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? A not-a-girl-but-not-a-boy-friend? Oh, all three? Wait, what about that Vox guy?"

Much to everyone's surprise, he simply pulled her up in his arms, instead of shooing her off. "You see, my dearest, I may have a secret. But this is one of those things that not a single other soul in the entirety of Hell can hear about, alright?" When she nodded, he patted her head, drawing a smile from her lips. "Alright, good girl. Now you see, since the loss of my staff, I've been having some, well, seizures."

"What is that? What does that mean? Wait, is it that thing where you fall over and start shaking all over the place? If it's that thing it seems a bit scary, but it's ok, I'm sure I can take care of it for you, I can fix it!" Niffty's self confidence was almost endearing- she had it in a way that very few in Hell did. She was full of it, yet she still maintained a level of humility. In Hell, it seemed to often be one or the other, but not with Niffty. 

"Sometimes it can be as such," Alastor gently patted her head again. He could deny it all he wanted to, there was no escaping the fact that he did love her. "But sometimes, like for me, it's not like that. I just kind of stare off, I guess one may say. I probably won't answer you, I'll just be like I'm lost in my thoughts. Nothing scary my dearest, not that you cannot handle scary things anyways."

"Oh," her smile dropped, surprising Alastor a bit. Maybe she was looking forward to seeing him convulse- this was Niffty, nothing was out of the question for her. "Well, then it's no big deal! I've seen you do that a few times before! I come in your room a lot, because you know, I miss having you around, and I've seen you do that, but I didn't think much of it, because you're Alastor! I didn't know there was a fancy word for it!"

Everyone looked at her, stunned. Every time they thought that they were finally able to predict what would be the next words to come out of her mouth, she said something like that which shocked everyone. A few glances were exchanged, as well as some laughs among the group. Niffty knew this, but never even mentioned it. In fact they were a bit surprised that she had managed to keep a secret so well. 

She giggled as she was placed on the ground, everyone still staring at her in shock. "Alastor, you could have mentioned that! Here I was, this whole time thinking that you were just freaking out about the cameras, I don't like them either they're kinda weird. Like, I know there isn't a camera here, I would have seen it, but if there was, I don't think you'd like it."

"Ok, I'm not sure what's worse," Angel began, pointing a finger at the maid, "that she just casually never mentioned your blackout spells, or that she thought there was a chance you were reactin' to a camera- ya' know, VoxTech- and didn't say nothin'! Good to know we can count on ya' to tell us what's up, Niff."

They all got a good laugh at that, including Alastor. "What do you all think, should I prepare some dinner for us tonight? It has been too long since you misfits got a taste of true, homestyle cooking. I think that maybe I could stick around here a bit more, as long as you all stay silent on the secret, is that well understood?"

Everyone nodded and agreed. They were just happy to have Alastor back, at least partially, and safely. Even if that meant that they had some new problems to deal with, they'd figure them out. Angel was planning on sharing his Fat Nuggets idea, Vaggie actually wanted to help- they could take care of it. Even Angel thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, it would all end up being ok.

Valentino was not a man who liked being woken up at all, but especially from his midday beauty sleep. That's why he was less than amused to wake up to the sounds of cheering, seemingly coming from Vox's bedroom. No, that was definitely coming from Vox's bedroom. Who else in this tower would be screaming and swearing with joy like that.

He leaned against the doorway leading into the TV's room, waiting to see how long it would take Vox to realize he was there. Vox was too fully engrossed in whatever he was doing to even realize. Finally, the moth spoke up. "Hey Voxxie, are your Pride Ring Devils winning? I really thought that the Sloth Ring Succubi would have them today."

"The who?" Vox spun around in his chair, pretty violently pumping his fists as he did so. Valentino could only shake his head- what made him sort of kind of maybe ish love this demon anyways? "I honestly could not care less about sports right now. Val, did you hear what happened? Did you see it? Did you hear the juicy info that I got my claws on? I have arguably the greatest intel of all time."

Vox had his cameras carefully placed all throughout Pentagram City. He could see just about every inch, except for one small portion. Cannibal Town was his Achilles' Heel. He couldn't see in- no matter what cool tricks he did with his cameras, they never worked. It must have been some magic they had. Unfortunately, that's where Alastor tended to spend much of his time. 

But that didn't mean that he didn't have his cameras strategically placed nearby. He had them waiting, watching for whatever could potentially spill out of the area. He had been alerted when two of those Hotel people were on the move out of the area, and he had tuned in just in time to hear one of them slip, not realizing that she was technically out of Cannibal Town, where he could hear every word. 

Before Valentino could even respond to his tangent, he continued, standing up out of his chair, and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "You know what I heard? Val, Val! You know what I heard- the Princess' little girlfriend was walking out of Cannibal Town with the porn spider and she said, you know what she said?" He covered his mouth with his hand. "She said that he's been having seizures."

Without much care, the moth rolled his eyes, not thinking too much about it. In all honesty, whatever disdain he showed for Alastor was just an attempt to make Vox happy. He really didn't care about him. He knew that Vox would get in bed with him in an instant, but it wasn't like Valentino didn't have plenty of non-Vox partners. He thought he'd be a good actor in the studio, but he never dared to push it. 

"Isn't this the craziest thing ever, imagine the one up I have on him now. Hey Bambi, you don't want your secret getting out to all of the seven rings? Do as I please! It's that simple! I don't even know what I want from him yet! To take down that stupid radio tower? I don't know, all I know is that- are you even listening?" Vox was practically squealing at this point with glee. 

Much to his dismay, Valentino was most definitely not listening. He had pulled out his phone and began scrolling. Realizing this, Vox took off for the elevators. He didn't even exactly know where he was going, other than that he was running through the V Tower flapping his hands. He practically took out Velvette, who was carrying bags full of high fashion clothing with her.

She asked him where he was off to, but Vox was already around the corner. She then heard a screech of his shoes, coming back to talk to her. He was panting. "Velvette, you are never going to believe what I heard today. I am seriously so hard right now. Alastor, he has been having seizures. Seizures! This is the greatest tea I have ever gotten on anyone!" And then he was off. Velvette, much like Valentino, didn't seem to care much. 

Chapter Text

Velvette stood there for a few moments, replaying what she had just heard. She honestly could not care less about what that Alastor guy was doing. She had seen him at the overlord meetings a few times, and maybe talked with him once or twice, but most of what she knew about him came from Vox. She tended to let Vox's ramblings go in one ear and out the other. 

Though, it soon occurred to her that whatever her coconspirator was off to may actually be more of her problem than she originally thought. Regardless of what he planned to do, this was Vox being obsessive about Alastor again. There's a good chance that his actions were going to throw all three of their names on the line. She did not want to do this, but here she was, saving the TV Demon from himself. 

Vox was already practically at the Hazbin Hotel by the time Velvette got out of the building- his transportation powers were put to good use. He didn't want to be spotted, in case anyone was going to come in or out, so he found himself waiting on a street corner, reciting all that he wanted to say. Every time he thought he had a good plan in place, he soon realized that he didn't like it. 

He had options here. He could blackmail Alastor and, in all likelihood, all of the members of the Hotel crew. He had what could easily become the hottest gossip in town. The things people would do in Hell for a little bit of intel were insane. He could spread this thing like wildfire, and make some good money off of it, if Alastor did not have something good to offer him in return. 

Or he could just straight up skip telling Alastor and share this news with Hell. And, on the off chance that the King himself was involved at the Hotel, it could save him from being double killed. That sounded nice, but he wanted nothing more than to see the look on his rival's face upon realizing that his secret was out. He wanted this more than any amount of money or fame he could get. 

The man was nothing if not petty and vengeful. He's held a grudge with Alastor for how long now? Just the thought of him having the seizures was enough to make him quite happy. It didn't matter if the other Vs didn't understand or care about it- ok maybe it hurt a bit, but he'd get over it. Everything would be fine. He had Alastor in the palm of his hand now. 

A new thought crossed his mind, one that somehow was even better than the rest. This whole situation just kept getting better and better. He wondered if he could somehow trigger one of his episodes with his TV effects. What a world this had become. Vox had the upper hand. He began to clap to himself, before he realized how dumb he must be looking, clapping to himself on the street corner. 

Ok, no, for right now, he had to collect himself, and think about what he wanted to do with the information. Intellectual property was the best kind, or so he had heard before. Could he make Alastor join the Vs? Velvette and Valentino wouldn't be on board, but who cared about them anyways. The idea of finally getting Alastor all to himself was appealing. Could he ask for stake in this hotel? The possibilities were endless. 

Once he had everything figured out, his exact speech, his exact deal, if one would, to Alastor planned, he realized that he still had to actually get to Alastor. He knew he was in there, he saw him heading that direction on his monitors. But he would probably get kicked out of the hotel, if they even opened the door for him at all. Really, all Charlie had to do was make one little call to her dad. 

But maybe if he just got in, Alastor would be waiting, he was the host after all. There was no way he had enough power after that fight with Adam to actually do much to him. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen him with his staff since then. He then remembered something that the deer had told him long ago- that his staff had healing magic. Were the seizures new? Was his staff the key to his health? This had taken a turn ever more in his favor.

Without thinking too much more, he found himself knocking on the large wooden doors to the hotel. He couldn't stand still as he awaited the door's opening. He hoped that it would be the Radio Demon staring him right in his face, realizing that his secret was out, realizing that he was done for. If it was Charlie, or Vaggie, the King, or even Angel, he was doomed. 

However the door seemed to open to no one. The smug look on his screen face dropped when he realized that he was staring into nothing. There was no one looking back at him. His eyes slowly shifted downwards as he realized who had opened the door. It was that little maid that Alastor had some deal with. He couldn't remember her name, the only thing that he remembered was how terrifying she could be. 

"Wait, are you Vox?" The maid said cheerfully. The TV wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. She was probably warned to never let him step foot inside of the hotel. "Alastor has told me all about you! Like, he talks about you, a lot. Do you have a crush on him, that would be so cool. Is a real life yaoi playing out before my eye? You know what, dinner just finished, let me go get Alastor, let you two have your alone time!"

Vox thought that he was in the know, but he didn't understand what yaoi was. He figured it was some sort of romance genre. Whatever. He had just gotten into the hotel, and pretty much alone, with Alastor. He thanked her as she ran up the flight of steps, and he took a seat on the large couch in the parlor. This was the perfect place for a deal, now was it not? But the more he played it back, the more unnerving her comments were.

He could soon hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and a very recognizable- yet radio filter free- voice muttering to himself about how Niffty must stop trying to set him up with demons. So that must be her name, Niffty. It would make sense. Hearing Alastor so vulnerable, without his precious little filter, even that was enough to force an even bigger smile onto Vox's face. 

The look on Alastor's face was almost priceless. His eyes were shut as he went to make his formal introduction to whoever Niffty had set him up with, and to tell this potential suitor that he was far from interested. But when he opened his eyes, instead of anything that he expected, he was greeted with the most disturbing sight of all. That TV Demon was in the hotel parlor. He had to keep his composure. 

"Why hello there Vox, I am surprised you came to pay me a visit on such a fine evening. I thought you would be, I don't know, wasting your joke of a life away with your bosses," he giggled as he looked at him, knowing that those words were surefire ones in order to make him angry. "Did you get bored with your annoying little screens? I can't say I'd be of much service to you."

What Alastor didn't mention was that the stupid, all too familiar feeling was back. It seemed to know when the worst time to start was. He was also realizing, and had been ever since the incident in the kitchen, that he wasn't the best judge of time, and how long he had. But he was pretty confident that he could get Vox out of there before a seizure started. Or at least he hoped.

"Look, I'm gonna cut to the chase," Vox then realized just how flustered he felt. This wasn't good. He had his whole speech planned, but now he felt moments away from bluescreening. All of his words were jumbled in his head. "I- you see, I know a secret that you, I dunno, may or may not have. I know it all. I know all the details. You can never escape the watchful eye of Vox."

Alastor scoffed. He briefly wondered if Vox had heard the whole seizure thing, but Niffty hadn't left the hotel since she found out. She was the only one who knew that he didn't really trust. He was probably just coming to give him grief over the whole battle with Adam. Not his proudest moment, sure, but he was alive and was ready to tell the tale, and even without his old powers, and limited time, he knew that he could handle Vox. 

With a laugh, Vox stood up. He was eye to eye with his enemy. He had him right where he wanted him. Ok, maybe he didn't. He wanted to break the news about his knowledge, but his words were just not quite working at the moment. He focused, and, despite the headache it would give him, began to flash his screen in many bright colors in front of him, his smile growing. 

And nothing happened. Other than him getting a headache, and Alastor staring at him with a look of pure confusion on his face. It had become downright awkward, with the demons waiting for one another to actually make a move to end Hell's most awkward moment. Vox stopped flashing, his grin fully dropped by now. "So, uh, Alastor, heard you may be going through a bit of a tough time, I guess."

"Wacky nonsense!" Alastor smiled a bit tighter than he usually did, trying to hide his racing thoughts. Did Vox actually somehow know this? There was no way it got out, right? "You know what they say, Hell isn't known for its tellers of the truth! If anyone here is going through a hard time, it must be you, the man with so few viewers, he can't even keep a format! I'd almost pity you."

The smile returned to Vox's face in an instant. "Oh please. I'm not the demon who is worried that his little friends are gonna catch him having a seizure. Now that's something to pity."

"You know?" Alastor's blood ran cold as he said that. He couldn't show fear, no, now was not the time. He tried to smile even larger, but he couldn't bring himself to. This was bad. 

"Of course I do. I know a lot more about you than you'd like me to. Anyways, I could be a jerk and just tell all of Hell your dirty little secret, but I'm gonna play nice, and give you the old friends discount. You make a reasonable deal with me, and your precious little secret won't be broadcast to every single VoxTek device ever made," the offer was set. Now all Alastor had to do was bite.

"I have plenty of deals to make, but if you know so much about me, you should know that I always come out on top," Alastor fixed his bowtie, straightening it. "Your ego has always been your downfall, my old pal. I know you relied on my brains for years, and now rely on those of your bosses, but if you have any in that little screen of yours, you would keep your mouth closed. I have the King of Hell on my side."

That wasn't entirely true. In fact, if anything, Alastor doubted that. But he was sure that he could pull some strings with Charlie to get her dad on his side. He didn't want to resort to help here, but he wasn't at full strength. Plus, that was a pretty neat thing to float around. "I doubt that you have any brains in there, though. It's always seemed pretty hollow to me," with that, he knocked on his screen.

Vox was stunned. Just when he thought that the old time, stuck in the past Radio Demon couldn't get any more insolent, naive, and quite frankly, stupid, he knocked on his screen. Oh, that red jerk was lucky that there didn't seem to be cracks. That would have been the end of Alastor, right then. He didn't quite know how to respond, so he did the only thing he could think of. He poked him in the chest, where Adam had struck him. 

He grimaced a little bit, and his clawed finger hitting just where it hurt the worst, but he wasn't going to let any more pain show. Alastor pushed Vox, just enough that he was clearly taken back. The anger in his eyes was clearly growing, and Alastor loved every moment of it. He even found Vox's attempt to slap him across the chest to be amusing. They were fighting like schoolchildren. 

When Alastor didn't even try to strike back, Vox took another swing- but soon found his wrist in Alastor's death grip. "You really thought that you would just come up and touch the Radio Demon like that without having a price to-" Vox knew what he was doing. That's why he was surprised there were no radio dials in Alastor's eyes. In fact, after he finished speaking, there was pretty much nothing in his eyes. 

Come to think of it, Alastor didn't finish his sentence. He hated the man, but he was a talented radio broadcaster. He wouldn't let that happen. He had heard him speaking a mile a minute to get a phrase in. Vox attempted to pull his wrist out of the deer's grasp, but it was tight. Painfully so. "Uh, Al, you good there?" He yanked again, but to absolutely no avail. Did he really just get himself caught by him? He'd never live this one down.

But the more he looked at Alastor's face, something didn't look right. Had he hypnotized him? No, his eyes weren't spinning. They were just- staring. It was almost creepy. Seeing Alastor so expressionless was infuriating to say the least. Despite his permanent smile, he could still read his eyes like a book. Now, there was nothing. It was downright freaky.  "No seriously Alastor, just let me go and I think we could settle this."

There was nothing. No response at all. This had to be some little game. Vox took his free hand to start trying to pry his fingers off of him, but every time he got one off, it would just snap back into place. He tried to walk away, but he wasn't getting very far. This was, by all accounts, a fiasco. The dead look on Alastor's face wasn't helping, and neither was the his other hand was twisting and wrinkling his shirt. Alastor knew better than that.

The sound of a wooden door whooshing open didn't make anything better. Vox turned his head back to see Velvette, panting, making her way through the unlocked door. It was in that moment that Vox knew that oh, he was screwed. Big time. One could argue that this was the most screwed he'd ever been- and he'd been screwed, in multiple senses of the word, countless times. He swore under his breath. 

"What are you doing here you absolute fool?" His initial forecast was spot on- Velvette was mad. He understood why she would be. She probably knew that he had thrown himself headfirst into a really bad situation- meaning that he had thrown all three of them headfirst into a really bad situation. She marched over to where the two men where standing, shorter than both of them, but still looking down on Alastor's clenched hand.

"Vel, I promise, this is not at all what it looks like," Vox stopped himself, realizing that it was exactly what it looked like. Judging by the look on her face, she knew he was lying. "Ok, maybe it's a little bit what it looks like. I came to offer the jerk a deal, he got a death grip on my wrist, I dunno what magic he is using but now he's just creepily staring at me and now I may be stuck."

She couldn't help herself but to laugh at the stupidity of the situation. The look on Vox's face was classic. So classic, in fact, that, knowing he couldn't do much about it, she snapped a picture. This was definitely going on her Sinstagram. But when she looked at Alastor's face, she couldn't help but agree. He did look weird. She stretched her arm, waving a hand in front of his face. "Creepy Smile Guy, come on, Hell to Alastor.”

“Ok, now I’m being serious,” Vox tensed up, his face growing less annoyed and more uneasy. The lack of anything from Alastor was making him concerned. His arch rival couldn’t double die, he needed someone to bother. “Alastor, I need you to, I don’t know, stop being dumb and actually let me go, or just like, answer me,” with his other hand he poked at him, but he didn’t respond.

Something must have been wrong for Alastor to not respond to such unexpected and unwanted touch. He hated the guy with all of his heart, but at the same time, he really needed him alive and well to torment him. “Come on, just, do something! Velvette, do we get help?” He poked sharply at his wound, but his lack of reaction was telling. He wasn’t just ignoring him. He was out cold. 

A weird sound came from upstairs- it sounded like a pig. Angel. Angel Dust had a pig. Well, this wasn’t getting any better. Angel came running down the stairs, his piglet in one of his arms. “Nuggsy, buddy, you gotta chill out. I dunno what’s happenin’ but I’m sure it’s fine,” he wasn’t fine. He knew that Alastor was probably having another seizure. He was even less fine when he saw Vox and Velvette in the lobby. 

“What are ya’ two losers doin’ here?” Angel got to the bottom of the steps, and saw that his gut feeling about Alastor was right, and that he had now inserted himself into Vox’s predicament. He could feel his chest tightening as he attempted to yank Alastor’s hand away. Vaggie said not to do that unless it was an emergency. Did this count as an emergency? It sure felt like one. 

“Could you please tell your little friend here to let go of me? He’s like in a trance or something I dunno what he’s doing I promise I won’t hurt you!” Angel didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Vox, look, there’s not much I can do here to help. Ya’ did this to ya’ self. He’s havin’ a seizure, I can’t stop it,” Angel placed his pig on the ground, still jumping at the deer’s feet. 

“He’s having one right now?” The TV’s screen glitched momentarily. Something about that made him feel very uncomfortable, even if he was the guy who tried to intentionally trigger one just a few minutes prior. “This- sorry Angel, this is not what I thought it would be, ok,” he was trying so hard to hide the sudden nervousness in him. “I thought this was just a magical malfunction.”

Velvette laughed as she slapped Vox's shoulder. "Knowing Vox, he probably triggered it intentionally. Don't let his apologies fool you Angel!" Vox didn't tell her that he had tried to trigger one, but he failed. He had to keep up his big bad TV Demon persona with someone, right? He was panicking right in front of her, he had some damage control to attempt to do. 

Groggily, a deep voice came from upstairs. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but Angel, did you say that someone had a seizure?" There was a groan from the group, but particularly from Angel- as if the secret hadn't spread to enough people with Velvette and Vox here already. He didn't feel like dealing with this. 

"It's the smiley freaky guy," Velvette piped up, watching as Husk's pace quickened as he hurried down the stairs. "It's not my fault, I want to be clear about that. Mr. Spiteful Idiot here had to get himself down to this hotel to see what was going on. I would rather be shopping right now. I'm here by force."

Angel threw his fluffy head in his hands. "Oh great, now Husky's here! Husk, meet Vox and Vel, they decided to pay our deal Alastor a kind visit and now Vox is happily caught in the middle of Alastor's seizure!" His voice was heavy with sarcasm as he put his other set of hands on his hips. "Anyways, how's ya' life?"

"Blyat," Husk swore as he stepped towards the group and practically pushed the woman out of the way. He waved a paw in front of Alastor's expressionless face, before turning his gaze to Angel. "Have we known about this? Has he always been like this? I'm way too sober to deal with this. Specifically Mudak One and Mudak Two here."

"Are you-" Vox's face changed from his look of angst to one of suspicion. The TV was a man who died in the last days of the 1950s, after spending his life in the broadcasting industry. He knew those words, he knew them too well. "Husk, may I ask you, are you, I mean, you know," he skirted around the question, "one of those, you know, Soviets?"

Husk rolled his eyes. "We just met, what, one minute ago, and you're already asking that kind of question," with a smirk, he took Vox's shoulder in his paw. "Did you see Alastor right now? I truly don't think that such a thing as stupid as being Russian should be a matter of concern to you, you lokh." 

The TV didn't recognize that word, but he could tell by the way it was said that there were no kind feelings behind it. "Whatever. We can discuss that later. Right now, I'm more concerned about the apparent party at this hotel. Does anyone else wanna come here while we're all sitting around, waiting for Alastor to let go of me? Why don't we just invite the entirety of Pentagram City? No, what about all seven rings!"

"Qué carajo is going on down here? Why do I hear Vox speaking?" The TV realized that his sarcasm was coming back to bite him. Now Vaggie was jogging down the steps, with a look on her face that was much definitely less than please. Her eye widened as she saw Alastor's grip on his wrist. She partly was amused by the level of spite that even an unconscious Alastor could have. 

"Hey, Vagatha," he offered her a shy wave with his free hand. "So, I know this looks bad. Quite frankly, it is bad. Apparently your, well, host had a seizure and now this is the situation we're in. Would you mind helping?" He wanted to be extra gentle with her. The last thing he needed was for her to pull Charlie and, by default, the King, into this mess. 

Vaggie didn't have the time to actually care too much about what Vox said. She came up to Alastor's side, with everyone, besides Vox, moving out of the way. She gently rubbed his back and she reminded him that it would be alright. "Could someone please tell me how long this has been going on for? At least an estimate?" 

"I don't know, it's been hard to keep count, ok I am going to be totally honest with you here, I kinda sorta haven't really kept count. It's been maybe, I dunno, six, seven minutes?" Vox grimaced a bit. His wrist was really starting to hurt. "I don't know if that's bad." 

"Ay," Vaggie replied, saying a few more words in Spanish under her breath. Judging by the look on Velvette's face, however, he assumed it was something vulgar. He didn't even know that Velvette spoke Spanish. "That's definitely longer than it should be. Alastor, are you there with me right now?"

Angel gave Vaggie a pat on her head. "Vox has been way too busy talking with Husky here about bein' a Russian! I remember those days, everyone was scared of them Russians. They called it the Red Scare. I dunno if they taught that to ya' in school, Vaggie. It was quite the time in history."

"You have to understand too, I was a TV man," Vox added, "back in the 50s, we spent every minute worried about the unavoidable nuclear bomb. Vaggie, did that ever happened? I never got to air those old emergency films that we had stored up, just in case. I wonder if those are still floating around somewhere."

"Guys!" the moth's voice broke through the sound of bickering between the three gentlemen. She looked at Alastor's face, twitching in ways that she had never seen him do before. "Right now, I couldn't care less about some war that happened while you were alive. Alastor is still seizing and we need to fix this."

Chapter Text

Vox tried to pull away from Alastor again. He couldn't panic, if anything he should be quite joyous over the situation, right? It seemed like the entirety of the Hotel was having a bad time because of this. Because of him. But it was unsettling. Maybe it was only because he was now realizing that he worried for Alastor. Maybe he should just stay out of the Hotel in the future. 

Vaggie had completely tuned him, and everyone else for that matter, out. She was in full nurse mode now. Seven minutes was way too long. She knew that the best course of action here was a trip to the hospital, but also this was Alastor. That was pretty clearly not going to happen. She wondered if she could somehow get him to the hospital in Cannibal Town, where maybe at least he would not completely despite her for taking him. 

She knew that, in the hotel lobby, there wasn't much she could do besides stay with him, remind him that he was going to be ok, and make sure neither of the Vs were going to do something stupid. If something happened, she'd have to leave Angel with Alastor- probably not a good idea- to get her spear out. Thankfully, both of them seemed to be acting somewhat decent. 

"I hate to ask this, but, he's gonna be ok, right?" Vox asked. He saw a little bit of stun flash across Velvette's eyes. He shouldn't have said that. He hated this man- if he could get his claws on Vaggie's angelic weapon, he would want to end him once and for all. But the idea of him suffering at the hands of anything that wasn't caused by him was humiliating in a weird way. 

He got a small smile from the moth in return. She was still rubbing Alastor's back. "I'm sure he will be, eventually. There's really not much I can do without medicines other than wait it out. If this was really anyone else we'd be at the hospital right now but- oh, that reminds me. Vox, Velvette, this is staying in these walls," she pulled her hands away from Alastor to reach for her spear. Both of them quickly nodded. 

"You're good, Al," she turned her attention back to him, looking up at the black stare on his face. "You're going to be all ok. I think we might be getting some progress? His face stopped twitching," she was talking to no one in particular. With her lips she pointed up towards him. He was no longer twitching like before, but he was making chewing motions. Vaggie knew that was a bit more typical. 

The TV was so focused on Alastor's face that he didn't notice when he first let go of his wrist. He gasped when it set in. "Hey, I think he's fine, I think it's done, look, he let go!" He flexed his wrist around. He wouldn't admit it, but man, Alastor had a strong grip. His pettiness and stubbornness surpassed his consciousness, didn't it.  

"Ok, maybe progress," Vaggie's hopeful tone dropped as she looked at Alastor's face. He was still in it. She released a sigh. "I'm glad he let you go Vox but he's still not back," she watched him look down at the floor, rocking a bit, before trying to take an uncoordinated step away. Every time she thought that this situation was at its worst, somehow, it got worse. 

Trying to see if she could do anything to bring Alastor back, she grabbed hold of his hand, and squeezed. She knew she shouldn't have, it probably wasn't her wisest choice. She was just lost without medicine. She could try to see if some could be summoned, but she didn't even know what to ask for. She doubted they used the same things in Hell as they did on Earth. 

Despite her repeated attempts to call out to him, there was nothing. She motioned for everyone to move away, but a certain TV Demon was very tentative. He reached out to try to help, but Vaggie pushed him back. If Angel or Husk or maybe even Velvette tried to help, maybe she'd permit it. But she didn't trust him to not do something really stupid. 

She was also slowly becoming concerned about his breathing. This whole ordeal had been going on for a while. His breaths were becoming more shallow and uneven, although it sounded like he may have been mumbling something that she couldn't make out. It wouldn't be sensical anyways. She at least hoped it was quiet mumbling and not difficult breathing. Then she heard some shoes squeaking on the floor.

"Well, this sucks! This whole thing sucks! I really hope you guys can, you know, figure it all out!" By the time Vaggie looked up to see Vox, he was almost out the door. Thankfully, the shortest of the Vs stepped in front of him, hands crossed over her chest. Vox turned around to wave goodbye, but found himself being pushed back by Velvette. "I mean, is there anything we can do to help?"

"What's goin' on? Why is he doin' that?" Angel was now beginning to lose his composure. He saw Alastor slowly wandering a bit- he knew that he had said that this was possible, but it was scaring him. Vaggie was gently holding his hand, not leaving his side. At least Husk was there, comforting Angel, but she still needed help to keep everyone and everything in check. 

Said help arrived in the form of the hotel doors opening, revealing a tall, thin, grey skinned woman with solid black eyes and a maroon dress and hat. She carried a tote bag with her, and was looking down at her phone, one of the few in Hell not made by VoxTek. "Why Alastor dear! You forgot some of your stuff over at- oh, oh no, everyone ok? Why are these lowlifes here?"

Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor at Rosie's comment, as she simply dropped her bag, closed the doors, pushed past the Vs, and made her way to her friend. Vaggie moved out of the way as she stood behind Alastor, gently making sure he wasn't going to run into anything. She was good with him, and Vaggie could not be any more appreciative for her. 

Vaggie wasn't scared per say, but she didn't like it. At all. It had probably been ten minutes now. She wondered what kind of magic Rosie would have. Could she teleport him back to Cannibal Town? This was going on for too long. She turned her attention to the panicking Angel Dust, who was being comforted by Husk, as well as the apparently panicking Vox, who was not being comforted by Velvette whatsoever. 

"I know you probably hate me right now, and quite frankly I deserve it, and you know what, I hate you too," Vox was talking to her. Mierda. "But, I'm so- is Alastor gonna be ok? Like, what exactly is happening? Is this from the whole battle with Adam? I'm sorry but look. I wanna be the one to kill him, you have to understand that."

"That would make two of us," Vaggie deadpanned, reaching out to shake Vox and Velvette's hands. "He'll be ok once the seizure is broken. There's really not much we can do besides let it ride out. What I can do is let you two putas know that you are not welcomed back at the Hotel, ever. This news stays between us. Vox, do not even let your pimp boyfriend know. You surely don't want the King of Hell shutting you down now, do you."

"On behalf of this pillock here, I must apologize," Velvette began, stepping out in front of Vox. "What he did was very immature and childish. Now, if you don't mind, I think we will stay until his little friend is back to normal so that I don't have to hear him panicking all night. I do not have the time for him today," her look at Vox was priceless. Vaggie never knew that the two of them apparently didn't get along the best.

Rosie was still letting Alastor wander, but carefully watching him. She gently pulled his hand down when he started tugging on his hair too hard- she stopped him before any got torn out, like it had in the past. The cannibal tensed when she could feel his back stiffen in her arms, but calmed as he released, hands dropping to his side, and looked towards her from the corner of his eye. "Rosie?"

She smiled a warm smile, glad that he was finally coming around. "There you are my sweetheart, you just had a pretty nasty seizure. Come now, come sit down with me," she spoke to him quietly as she led him towards the wall, and helped him sit against it. He laid his head on her shoulder, dazed and aching. It seemed for him that the longer it went on, the harder the recovery was. "Do you know where you're at babe?"

He leaned further into her, his eyes feeling impossible to keep open. He couldn't get the words out right. After stammering for a moment, he finally managed out, "the hotel?" and was very glad when she assured him where that's where he was at. He was far too exhausted to try to ask questions, like why Rosie was there. All he wanted was the head pain to stop.

Vox was the first to notice that he had come to. He ran off from Velvette and Vaggie's conversation, and stood in front of the pair, cuddled on the ground. He had a snarky comment to make. Actually, he had a few. But the stare he was getting from Rosie was the most frightening thing he'd ever seen in Hell. "Is he alright? Is there anything I- we could do to help him? Al, you don't look so good."

"What he needs is some quiet," Rosie continued to stroke his head. She loved her stubborn little jerk. His eyes opened to see Vox looming over him, and he shot a panicked look at Rosie. He was in no position to try to get away. The cannibal pulled him in closer. "Do not worry yourself babe, he won't be hurtin' you, right Vox?" That was a threat. The TV knew it, and nodded back. "Good."

"Hold on," Vox stopped her, waving his hand in front of him. "Did you just call him babe? How long have you two been a thing? Might be learning even more new things about our deal old Al."

"I feel sad for you, that your mother never called you a pet name," Rosie didn't even bother to look at the TV Demon. She smiled at Alastor's gentle, sleepy breaths as she rocked him. 

The next thing Alastor knew, there were more people surrounding him than he had previously thought. He wondered if he had fallen asleep, or started seizing again. Sometimes he had smaller ones right after a big one. But now, he saw Angel, Husk, and Vox bickering, Vaggie talking to Charlie, and Velvette just standing there, watching Vox like a hawk. 

His thoughts were slowly starting to feel a bit more connected. He tried to ask how long he was out for, but apparently his words weren't back. It was in his silence it occurred to him, just how many people knew, and none of them should have known. At least two of the three Vs knew, including his rival. It appeared Husk knew now. This whole thing was just great. 

This whole thing was very loud, too. Specifically the bickering going on in front of him. He couldn't quite make out their words. He tried to focus on Rosie's gentle singing of Alouette, but it was hard. He was loud, and now he was scared. Vox knowing about the seizures was probably going to be the end of him. Half of Hell would probably know. He stirred a little, trying to gain Rosie's attention. 

But instead, Vox drew closer to him. He heard Rosie warn him to stay back. He could make out some of what he was saying- even though his static had died down to those around him, it was still loud and blaring in his brain. "Alastor! You're awake! Seriously, do you need anything? You really freaked me out, I hate to admit it. I won't tell anyone what happened if you don't tell anyone about how I panicked."

"Please, give us some space," Rosie replied, shifting her hand up to cover Alastor's ears. He didn't even realize they were pinned back. He felt the world around him fade once more. He tried to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't. He had so many questions, but no ability to ask them. He was a little bit mad at Vox for playing nice, but before he could say anything, he felt his head drop into sleep. 

"Then why don't ya' just get out of here!" Opening his eyes again, now everything was even louder than before. Why was Angel yelling? Was he yelling at Vox? It was all too loud in his head. Everything was just too loud, too much. He was normally quite sensitive to this sort of stuff, but with a migraine, after a particularly bad seizure, he couldn't take it. 

Soft sobs began to come from him. He saw Vox point and laugh, but then suddenly stop. He didn't realize that both Rosie and Velvette had given him a stare of death. "I'm sorry, I was just making sure," he knew that was a lie. He heard Velvette getting angrier and angrier, though her words were all blending together still. It was too loud. His secret was out. He was scared. 

Rosie hated to use much of her magic. She didn't often need it. But right now was one of those times that she did. "Ok, I'm sorry, but we've gotta go. Vaggie- la torre en la cima del edificio," she said it in Spanish, making sure that Vox didn't know where she was off to. And with that, she was gone in a flame, and she took Alastor with her. 

"Welp," Angel had his four visible hands on his hips, staring right along with the rest of everyone at where Alastor and Rosie were just a moment ago. "I didn't even know she could do that! At least it seems like Al is ok, guys?" He turned around to see that everyone was already distracted again, watching Velvette and Vox arguing. 

"I seriously underestimated your stupidity," Velvette spat, watching as the TV pulled back from her. "I know you hate him, who doesn't? Not a single soul in Hell loves him, but that doesn't mean that you can just waltz on over to this hotel, where we could get in big trouble, you know that? He's still an overlord, and one far more powerful than you at that!"

"Alastor is far from more powerful than me!" Vox practically laughed in her face. Husk turned around, walking over towards the old popcorn machine in the lobby. At least someone was having a good time. Even Angel could admit that it was funny, seeing the two of them so up in arms. "Say Velvette, could you tell me where his precious overlord ladyfriend said they were? You sure made it seem like you spoke that language!"

"No! I am not helping you with any more of your stupid plans! All I do, all day, is run around and save you and your boy toy from yourselves. I am sick of cleaning up your messes! Am I the only one who thinks before she acts around here? Now let's go!" Angel reached for a bit of the freshly popped popcorn that Husk just brought over. Velvette had come out swinging. 

"Velvette, have you ever had someone rej- have you ever been so angry at someone like this? No. Precious Little Princess Velvette always gets everything she wants," he patted her head, resulting in him getting poked in the screen. He froze for a moment. That's how this whole thing with Alastor started. 

"Oh please. You two wouldn't last a day without me! Especially you. You mooched on Alastor for so long, and when he didn't love you back, you became this mess!" Velvette had given up poking at him. 

"Wait, when Alastor didn't love ya' back? Wait, ya' said ya' were rejected, didn't ya'? Al rejected ya'!" Angel began to laugh so hard, he couldn't even stand straight. 

"Actually, I think Vel is right! It's time to go!" Vox spun around on his heels, ready to head out the door. He heard the entirety of the Hotel gang laughing at him behind his back. This was not supposed to happen. This was supposed to be his power show, and now he was running out of there getting laughed at. 

The woman stood in front of the door. "No, I think you should stay. You so desperately wanted to be here before!" She was laughing hard. She loved seeing Vox get humiliated like this. Sure, she loved him, like an older sister- that's why she loved to mock him. "Say, why don't you talk more with your little Russian buddy! I know how much you love talking about the war back in the day."

Husk grumbled. Velvette had set him up. "Hey, Vox, na tevoem meste ya by ubral sevoyu tupuy zadnicu iz yetogo otelya, I nikogda by ne vernulsya," Vox had no clue what that actually meant, other than that it was a threat. Velvette was laughing hysterically as she was pushed out the door. She also had no clue what Husk had said, but that he was insulting him. 

As Vox left, he smiled down at Velvette. "I don't speak tons of Russian, but he was just wishing us a good day, and thanking us for coming. He also said to never come back. Anyways, since he's not in the mood, I'd assume you'd like to hear about all those old ads we had to prepare, right? I voiced one! It, fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, never got to air," Velvette just rolled her eyes. 

Vaggie sighed, looking back at her friends. Crisis mostly averted. She would go pay Alastor and Rosie a visit in a little bit, when he was probably feeling better. "What has gotten into me?" She wondered around, watching the door shut behind the Vs, "first I felt bad for Alastor, and now I feel bad for Velvette. Seriously, how does she put up with that guy? Poor woman."

Chapter Text

The smoke from the flame began to die down around Rosie, who was now sitting in the radio tower, Alastor in her arms. The two of them were seated on the floor, her back pressed up against the cold wall behind her. Squinting, she could see Alastor cuddled tightly next to her. His head laid on her chest, and his eyes were squeezed shut. He didn't even see, to notice the change in location. 

It was no secret that his seizures and his meltdowns were a very vicious cycle. After any seizure, he ran the risk of one- he was tired, his head would hurt, and he would still be a bit shaken up. But after such a hard one, that went on for so long, with so many people there, this felt more like an inevitability than a risk. The longer one was, the harder it was for him to come around fully. He was still pretty dazed. 

But the problem was that his meltdowns could very well trigger more seizures. He was exhausted from them, and filled with stress. No wonder why they would trigger more. It also didn't help that he sometimes had smaller seizures after a bad one, or that hyperventilating seemed to be a pretty big trigger. He hyperventilated a lot during his meltdowns. Rosie had a bad feeling that this was going to be a long night.

She didn't mind it, though. Sure, she wished things were better, and that Alastor wasn't in a dazed and panicked state and instead was his normal, cheerful self, she didn't mind helping him. She was just about the only person in Hell who could. It sure did seem like the Hotel crew was trying, but he wouldn't let them in. Typical Alastor. He always put up too many walls, and now they were crashing down whether he liked it or not.

Alastor groaned under her arm, causing her to lift it up. His eyes squeezed even tighter, as any light right now was too much. But she needed to see his face. He seemed to be conscious, even if she could not get through to him fully. He began to throw his head into her front, near her scapula. It hurt, but she wasn't going to complain. It was better than against a wall or anything else that could hurt him. 

His arm seemed to spasm a bit, stretching itself out, with his fist clenched. He did this a lot during his meltdowns. Rosie didn't think that it was actually related to the seizures, but more of just a panic attack or a meltdown thing. He whimpered in pain until it subsided, and he went back to rocking himself into her. 

A loud noise outside of he tower caused him to shoot his head up, looking around. She comforted him, trying to tell him that he was ok, but he seemed so on edge. His ears were flat against his head, and they were now covered by his hands. She pulled him closer to her, and he laid back down on her, but she felt his breaths began to quicken, the up and down of his chest becoming shallow and rapid. 

"Mon amour," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to speak with the most French she could when he was having a meltdown. It would calm him down. "Ralentissez votre respiration, slow down your breathin'. You're goin' to go into another seizure baby," she knew it was coming. And then he'd be more stressed and make the meltdown worse, and so it would go on. 

Rosie had heard many times about his maman, and how she used to help him in these like no one else could. She tried to do everything as he had recalled it. Growing up, he was the broken, strange kid. He would have meltdowns like this. He would have his "fits" that turned out to be seizures. When everyone hated him, his maman stayed with him. 

He had told her many times about how his papa would get so mad at him during both meltdowns and seizures, and would lash out. His maman was the only one who would protect him. She protected her petit garçon when he couldn't stop crying and screaming. She protected him when he wouldn't answer, no matter what anyone did, even though his papa swore it was disobedience. 

Now it was Rosie's turn. Alastor always said that his maman was in Heaven, a place completely unreachable for sinners like them. Somehow, Rosie had found herself taking the role of maman in Hell. Alastor was a feared man. No one knew that he had a kind maman always there to protect him. It was best that way. He never liked her husband much. Nothing against him, but she could see why Alastor hesitated about a father figure.

When they first met, he was nowhere near the powerful overlord that he had become. He was struggling with blackout spells and couldn't get very far with those. Rosie had her way around things. She was a powerful and string overlord- to this day, one could argue even more so than Alastor. Yet she took him in, as the child that she never had. 

"Bébé?" Rosie looked down when she heard Alastor's cries suddenly stop. He was pretty much motionless in her arms, besides for some twitching in his one hand. "Oh, sweetheart, wake up," she said, continuing to rock him. She knew that this wouldn't last long at all compared to what happened earlier. 

Just a few moments later he returned, still crying into her. "There you are my love," she gently encouraged, "you're gonna be alright, I promise you. Je t'aime, I love you. This too shall pass," she hated the rattling sounds coming from his chest. He seemed to be having a difficult time getting enough air in. There wasn't much she could do right now. She just had to hold him. 

The deer rocked in Rosie's arms. Everything was just far too much for him at once. The whole situation of waking up to Vox in front of him was playing on loop in his staticky mind- as was the moment Adam had broken his staff. That shouldn't have happened. This was all his fault. His chest tightened as he went there in his mind.

His hands came up to his head. Despite his lack of magic, he was still strong, just as he had proven to Vox. He attempted to dig his claws into himself, but Rosie removed them before he got too far. He appeared to have drawn a little blood on his forehead, near his death mark. She would worry about patching it up later, as the injury wasn’t all that bad, all things considered. 

"Oh, sweet Alastor, you're safe with me. It's just me, Rosie. Personne ne peut te faire de mal, nobody can hurt you," his breathing quickened, then returned to normal. She was pretty sure that he was out again. “Babe, this is what I mean. You breathe too quick and then you will start a seizure,” she held him close until he flinched, coming to again. She needed him to go to sleep.

In the quietest voice she could find, she began to sing to him, “mon petit faon, mon gentil petit faon, mon petit faon, je t’aimerai,” it was to the tune of Alouette, his favorite song that his maman used to sing to him. Rosie had put her own spin on it, singing it about a little faun, who she loved. It always helped relax him, and always helped him rest. She watched his eyes gently shut. 

Rosie could feel his breathing begin to settle itself down. He had fallen fast asleep. She smiled a little, knowing that sleep was the best thing for him- he was exhausted and needed to stop the meltdown to seizure cycle- but it was also hard. When he fell asleep like this, it always led to some pretty vivid nightmares, ones she could often not wake him from. Even if she could, it was best not to. He needed sleep.

She knew that it was the pure exhaustion carrying him into such a deep sleep, but she hated seeing him like that. That was probably the closest she could get to his world when he was alive, and it broke her dead heart. She wished he didn't have to go through it, but it was better than spending the rest of the night trapped in the same cycle, over and over again. 

Once she was sure he was out cold, she let her head lay back, and closed her own eyes. She knew that she wouldn't actually fall asleep, but maybe she could try to get some energy back. She was exhausted herself. She whispered him some kind words, and when he didn't answer, she smiled. Rosie loved her Alastor, and Alastor loved his Rosie.

Vaggie pushed the hatch door into the radio tower open, and climbed in. Much to her surprise, the room seemed oddly silent. She noticed Rosie sitting on the ground, Alastor practically buried into her. Rosie’s head was back and her eyes were closed, but she opened them upon noticing the moth enter. She gave her a warm smile and waved her over.

Carefully she sat on the other side of the cannibal, looking down at the hotel’s host sleeping in her lap. He was peaceful now, but judging by the tear stains on his grey face, she figured that he hadn’t always been so calm. She saw the bloodied spots on his forehead, and imagined those were from his own hand. And this was all her fault too. If she would have just stayed at the Hotel and waited for Alastor to come back, it would all be ok. 

“Darlin’, I don’t mean to scare you,” Rosie said, looking at Vaggie. She seemed so tired, too. “Are you ok bein’ here with us right now? He’s sleepin’ now, but it’s still not easy. He will probably seize again once or twice. He had a meltdown, he’s been havin’ nightmares, it’s a little tough sometimes, what he says. I promise I don’t mind if you wanna go be with your lovely girlfriend.”

“It’s fine,” it wasn’t fine. Vaggie wasn’t fine. This was all her fault. The least she could do was stay with him. Why was she so stressed? She wanted to be a nurse for a living. She couldn’t have been panicking over something so minute. Was it just because it was Alastor? Or was she weaker than she had thought? Maybe fate had its way with things, and had killed her before she had a chance to kill anyone else. 

Alastor stirred a little, but Rosie calmed him down with some words in French. Vaggie had no clue what she was saying. She started to wonder about the woman who she sat with. She clearly spoke Spanish- that’s how she instructed her to come to the tower in the first place. She spoke in French with Alastor. There was so much mystery behind this woman, but she didn’t want to speak too loudly. Last time it seemed to wake him. 

Minutes passed by, as Vaggie sat in silenced she let healed rest momentarily, before remembering just how much of this was on her shoulders. The only way Vox could have heard was through her carelessness, mentioning Alastor’s condition just outside the boundaries of Cannibal Town. If she would have been more careful, he probably wouldn’t have gotten so upset and had such a bad seizure, either.  

“I am so, so sorry,” she said, finally breaking the silence. "I should have just been mature about this whole thing and waited for him to come home. Now look, I go out, say something I shouldn't have, and this happened. I think the seizure was probably triggered, or at least worsened, because of the stress. I'm sorry to put you through all this, Rosie."

"No te preocupes, mija," Rosie looked at her, looked at her eye, filling with tears. If Alastor wasn't laying on her arm, she would wipe her face for her. "Don't worry, it will all be alright. It had to come out eventually, did it not? Might as well just get it done for. Alastor won't mind my dear, I promise. He'll want to kill that TV fool, but other than that."

Before Vaggie could try to apologize again, Rosie kept going. "That Vox is a jerk and a half, let me tell you. Alastor said he didn't want to get in bed with him, and next thing you know, this is happenin'! But thank you, dearest, for bein' so brave. That took a lotta courage from you, to keep our dear Al safe, and also fight back against those losers. I'd say they have a special place in Hell waitin' for them, but, well, you know."

Vaggie rubbed Rosie's shoulder. "Thanks. Still doesn't fix everything, but whatever. And thanks for always being there for him. He clearly loves you, a lot. Sometime, under better circumstances, I'd love to chat, if you'd want. You seem to know a lot of stuff, about a lot of stuff," Rosie hummed and nodded a response. 

She seemed to be gathering her words, but Alastor's sudden flailing stopped her. She looked down at the demon in her arms, once again breathing heavily, and frowned. She rubbed his neck and sang to him in French. "Tout ira bien, babe. Everything will be ok with you. You're here, Rosie's here, all is well."

"Should I wake him?" Vaggie asked, reaching over, getting ready to shake him. He seemed very distressed, although still pretty clearly asleep. 

"No dearest, está bien," Rosie stopped her, "it's not good to wake him, he needs all the rest he can get. He wouldn't fall asleep again. Besides, I doubt you could wake him. He's a deep sleeper."

The look on Alastor's face just about broke Vaggie. He was still smiling, yet in so much pain- he was beginning to cry again. Rosie held him close to her, stroking his pinned back ears, trying to bring him any comfort that she could.  "Papa!" he cried, curling himself up. "S'il vous plaît, ne me frappez pas! Je suis désolée!"

A solemn look was exchanged between the two women. Vaggie didn't know exactly what he was saying, but she got the gist of it, enough to absolutely shatter her. "I'm so sorry you have to see this dear, you don't deserve it," Rosie explained, "he gets his flashbacks after meltdowns. I assume you've heard about where the seizures came from by now, haven't you."

All Vaggie could do was nod. She heard him yell again in French, "je ne peux pas m'en empécher!". Vaggie looked at Rosie, and she explained what she had been thinking about earlier, how horribly his father used to treat him, how he used to get so upset over the meltdowns and seizures. He couldn't help it, but his father was- she didn't want to continue her thoughts. 

Suddenly, his cries stopped. His smile grew wide, and he laughed in his sleep. It sounded malicious. That was the Alastor that Vaggie knew. She wouldn't say she knew and loved him, but it was more him. "Un jour, je vous verrai en l'Enfer!" He cackled again, almost like something out of a supervillain movie. Vaggie was glad to see Rosie smiling, too. But when she thought about it, she thought she understood what he said. 

It wasn't like she spoke French, but it was close enough to Spanish that Vaggie could understand that last part. Verrai en l'Enfer. Veré en el Infierno. I will see you in Hell. The moth froze. He was talking to his father, wasn't he. She was going to say something to Rosie, but before she could, Alastor sat up, still in a cold sweat from the nightmares he he was having. Rosie rested her arm around his shoulder. 

Alastor stared at Vaggie, his look growing to horror, like he was waiting for himself to wake up from another bad dream. He looked at Rosie. "Rosie, pourquoi Vaggie est-elle ici? Why is Vaggie here?" He reached for his head, still probably pounding from the seizure. His eyes darted out the windows. It was dark out. It was probably past his bedtime. How long had he been asleep for? He was confused. 

"Your sweet friend came to check on you after what happened, sweetheart," Rosie replied. Alastor shuttered at that word- friend. He didn't really consider anyone in the Hotel to be his friend, let alone a sweet one, but especially Vaggie. She hated him, and he hated her. "Al, do you remember what happened? What do you remember?"

"Vox saw me having a seizure because of course he did," Alastor said, burying his head in his hands. He brought his knees up to his chest. "Was it a long one? It feels like a long one. I feel absolutely miserable," he laughed, remembering Vaggie was there. "Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure it was a bad one."

Vaggie nodded. "It was probably 12 minutes in total, or so. I only was there for a bit, it seems no one else, besides Rosie and me, know how to actually count. It's been an hour or two since then, and trust me, the Vs aren't coming back any time soon. I put that cabrón in his place," before she finished, another wave of panic seemingly crashed over Alastor. "What's wrong Al?"

"Did she see?" Alastor was looking frantically between Rosie and Vaggie. When he realized that neither woman knew what he was talking about, he spoke up again. "Vaggie. Did Vaggie, does Vaggie," he trailed off, leaning into Rosie's ear to whisper, "did she know that I was having a nightmare?"

Rosie nodded, and Alastor grimaced. At Vaggie's questioning, he finally replied to her. "Vaggie, I deeply apologize for that you had to see the nightmare situation, that was quite immature of me," he lowered his head, somehow even more embarrassed than he already was. He was the Radio Demon! He shouldn't be having nightmares. Who knew what merde he yelled about. 

"Don't apologize, it's normal," Vaggie looked away, barely able to keep her eyes open at this point. Now that Alastor was awake, she was relaxing, and was starting to get sleepy. But she still couldn't get those words out of her head. Ne me frappez pas! Je vous verrai en l'Enfer! Her head hurt just thinking about it, and all that he must have gone through. She tuned into his conversation with Rosie. 

"My dearest," Alastor was solemn, and trying to whisper, but Vaggie's moth ears were extra sensitive. She could hear him. "Please say I didn't say anything about that faible trou du cul," Vaggie wondered what that meant, and who he was talking about, before he continued, "I don't need her, or any of those Hazbins, knowing about the Vox situation. It's best for them all to believe that we had a business breakup."

The cannibal sighed. "Vox told them," she said, "but no one would blame you, Alastor. He overstepped. He spent all those years thinkin' somethin' that was so obvious wasn't happenin'. He's a creep, and everyone actually seemed to find it quite funny that he wanted to have a shot with you. We all know you're an ace in the hole, besides him apparently."

"And me," he replied, "I still do not understand what you mean my dear Rosie. An ace in the hole, an advantage, a wild card," he once again leaned onto her shoulder, his smile seeming more genuine. "I guess one could say I am all of those things, am I not? He could have kept me, instead of letting me run off to this passion project, but he had to fuss about and make it all weird."

Still listening in, Vaggie couldn't help herself but laugh at his lack of understanding of Rosie. When she saw four confused eyes dart at her, she completely lost her composure. "I guess you have a point," she started, not wanting to start a whole new conversation this late, "maybe ace in the hole has many meanings," she winked at Rosie. The cannibal woman winked right back. 

"That's probably enough for tonight, my dears," Rosie said, putting a hand on each of their knees. "I'm gonna take Al back to my place, if you don't mind. He can come on over to pay a visit to you all tomorrow. You should go get some sleep yourself, sweetheart. You had a rough day, babe," with that, Rosie stood, helping Vaggie up, and sat back down. With a snap of her fingers, the pair was engulfed in flames. 

It was a bit weird that she could teleport to her place now, Vaggie thought. It did seem to be taking her a while. Maybe the further the distance, the longer the time they spent trying to teleport. She probably didn;t have enough time before. Fair enough. She slipped down the hatch door, and climbed down the ladder, ready to greet her girlfriend in bed. 

She felt many things. She felt awful for Alastor- how long had he been hiding all that? She knew it already, but at the same time, it all felt so new, and so real. She was worried about his seizures. She was worried about his nightmares. Why was she worried? She had so many other things in the afterlife to worry about, and the Radio Demon shouldn't have been one, yet here she was, worrying about Alastor.

Chapter Text

Rosie remembered the times, back when Alastor was new in Hell. He pretty quickly gained power, and it didn't take him long to get his hands on a staff with healing magic to help him. But she remembered even before that, when he wouldn't listen to her, when he would deny that his seizures were a problem. He gaslighted her, saying that he never once blacked out. It was obvious that he had. 

She wouldn't call them fond memories, but they were memories indeed. He was stubborn, refusing to visit the doctors in Cannibal Town, insisting that he would gain such notoriety, that he didn't have time to deal with trivial things like blacking out. After lots of research, disguised as care for one of her cannibals, she finally brought it up to Alastor- he was having seizures. That was the only explanation. 

Learning what had happened to him broke her heart, as dead as it was. It triggered some maternal instinct in her- she had always wanted a son of her own. She learned French for him, and cared for him the best that she could, without taking him to the hospital. Finally, early one morning, before it was even light out, she had to take him. She had no clue how long he'd been seizing for, but he was ill, and she couldn't break it. 

Getting his staff changed everything. It held healing magic, activated by Rosie herself, tailored specifically to him. He no longer had seizures, as long as his staff was in his general vicinity. No wonder why he took such good care of it. Rosie was sure that it could be replaced, but it would take a while. Besides, there was a level of trial and error with it. She hoped it would never come down to him needing a new one. 

He had it partially broken once, back thirty some years ago. That was the day in which Alastor rejected his longtime business partner, Vox. Rosie had warned Alastor that Vox saw him as more than a business partner. The deer didn't trust him, but he assumed that Vox's end goal was friendship, not some twisted fantasy of love. In his fit following the rejection, he broke his staff, but not all of the way.

Thankfully, the staff had retained most of its magic. It saved enough healing magic that the seizures weren't truly a concern. He had one brief one during the repair process, and he was returned to full strength within two days. He vowed on that day to never, ever let his staff be even nicked by another soul in Hell. The only other demon allowed to hold it was Rosie, and it was only in case of an emergency. 

That's why Rosie was so shocked when he so willingly handed it to Charlie- on the condition that she kept it near him. He didn't explain why he was so protective of it, but she was confident that Charlie knew that she would be done for if she so much as even splintered it. He quickly replaced it with someone else's nonmagical one at the first chance he had. He needed his staff right next to him, even if only for his mental comfort. 

But things had changed since then. Now, at probably a similar time of day as when she had to take Alastor to the hospital many years ago, she stood with him in the kitchen. He was making French Toast batter, as he normally would for her. He wasn't to be a bad guest, after all. Yet Rosie had to be there, practically hovering over him, for moments like this. He was exhausted. 

Following the situation from the evening before, despite his exhaustion, he didn't get much peaceful sleep. He was plagued by nightmares all night long, much to Rosie's dismay. She wanted to go and lay next to him, cuddling and coddling him, like the mother that she was. But Alastor had his limits, and for a man who had no problem killing a person, he was awfully bound by the no unmarried men and women sharing a bed thing. 

Sure, she knew she could get away with it if she really pushed- she was his maman in Hell, after all. But after what had happened, she didn't want to push it. He had so much on his plate already, especially the whole Vox situation that had come about. She felt like anything could push him over the edge, well, more over the edge than he already was.

Alastor had slept for about an hour and a half straight, leading up to his normal rising time. That was the most soundly he had slept all night, not screaming or mumbling or kicking at all. Rosie tried to convince him to stay in bed, but he refused. He was a man with a tight routine, and he had a breakfast to make for his host. He encouraged Rosie to sleep herself, but she didn't want to leave him alone yet. 

Rosie knew about Alastor's exhaustion to seizure to exhaustion pipeline better than anyone. He hadn't gotten any good sleep. She was near confident that he would probably have at least one more this morning. At this point, the deer felt like a ticking time bomb. She could tell by his words and movements and just his overall demeanor that it was probably going to be sooner rather than later. 

All she could hope for was that it wasn't as bad as the night before. Twelve minutes long- that wasn't good. She had only seen the end of it, but from what she understood, it was even scarier at its start. They shouldn't be lasting that long. If she was there the whole time, she probably would have teleported him to the Cannibal Town hospital. He needed it after one that long. 

Belle started whimpering at Alastor's feet, which was arguably the biggest telltale sign of an incoming seizure. He insisted it was just a headache, but she knew that it wasn't true. She prepared herself for another one, and just hoped that it wasn't a long or particularly bad one. It was evident that his seizures were getting worse and worse, the longer he was without his staff. He needed that staff ready, and soon. 

She helped Alastor take a seat at her dining table, and she took the chair next to him, coming in close and grabbing his hand. She would be there for him as long as it would take him to come out of it. She started chatting and gossiping, just like the old times, as she watched his eyes strain. She squeezed his hand tightly. "Al, baby, don't fight it. Rosie's right here for you. I'm in no rush."

"I really don't want to do this again," he said. He looked into her solid black eyes, trying to focus on them, trying to bring himself out of the inevitable seizure. He was stubborn that way. "My dear, please, I do not mean to keep you. I will be fine if you rest. I will do my best to be fine no matter what."

Something about those words, even if she couldn't put a finger on it, Rosie didn't like. There was such vulnerability in his voice, one that, even with her, he never shared. He would do his best to be fine. That wasn't him promising to be fine. That wasn't him laughing at the simple concept of not being fine. A pit was growing in her stomach. 

"Baby, I know you will be fine, there's not a doubt in this old head of mine about that. We'll get through this, me and you. And, as much as you may wanna get rid of me, I won't go that easily," she stopped speaking as she noticed the look on his face- more accurately, the absence of one. Other than the finger picking at his nearly nonexistent lips, he was eerily still for a seizure. She came even closer to him. "Oh, my sweet Al."

The deer tried to speak, but nothing except stuttered syllables was able to get out Rosie realized he was still somewhat there, even if not fully. She would rather that he just be fully unconscious. At least he wouldn't be afraid that way. She sighed, continuing to speak to him, listening to him try to speak. She wished she could snap her fingers and end it. She had a lot of magic, but not enough for that. 

He seemed to be coming to a bit more, his eyes beginning to lock in on Rosie's. He stopped picking at his lips, and instead took his other hand to surround hers, trying to ground himself. It was a weird feeling. He wasn't entirely sure whether or not he was still in it, but he felt the fog in his brain begin to settle. His words were coming back to him, even if he knew that the worst was still coming.

With a smile, he was finally able to speak up. "Rosie, darling, you shouldn't have to see me like this. I can take care of myself, my dearest. You need not worry yourself about such things," he couldn't make eye contact with her, as much as he tried. Instead, he looked out the window, seeing the sun begin to rise over Cannibal Town. How he missed being out there, when he was healthier. 

"Maybe I need not worry, but I wanna care," Rosie teased, "I promise you Al, we're gonna get you back up to full speed soon. I'm sure that staff of yours will be ready soon, and once that bad boy is back, this will all be done. It's a little hiccup in the road, now isn't it. You're gonna double kill me for sayin' this Alastor, but you should try some medicines until that staff is ready. Twelve minutes, that's scary babe."

"My dear, I do not need any sort of medicines. As you said, my staff is coming soon, and once it arrives, I will be in tip top shape. Better than ever. It's not worth attempting medications for something that will be ready so soon," he insisted, "it's all just a minor inconvenience," Rosie knew that what he just said was a flat out lie. He had one of the longest seizures she had ever seen him in just the night before. 

If there was one word that Rosie would use to describe Alastor, it would be stubborn. Even if it actively put him at risk. He seemingly had no limits to his stubbornness. She was still giggling to herself over yesterday's events, when a fully unconscious Alastor grabbed so tightly on his rival's wrist, that he couldn't get away. If his stubbornness wasn't so dangerous, it would be endearing. 

Alastor was truly her son, even if not by blood. She was a stubborn woman herself- that's the only way she got to where she was in her afterlife. It was clear that the apple didn't fall so far from the tree. But she really needed him to open himself up a bit, to let himself get cared for, to get him something to help with these seizures. He couldn't go on like this. She just had to pray that they worried with that staff. 

"This is not just a minor inconvenience, we all know that. Alastor, this could be very dangerous for you, and I can't have anythin' happen to you. How do you expect a woman like me to continue her afterlife without her son?" She noticed how hard he was gripping onto his head again. Yeah, it wasn't over yet. "If it was such a minor inconvenience, you wouldn't be fightin' one right now, would you be?"

"I do not know what would make you think that," he said, through hazed over eyes. He couldn't pretend to be fine. Half of Rosie's sentence was jumbled in his brain. "And even if I was, dearest, what does it matter?"

"You can let it come, babe," Rosie encouraged. "It will all be well, mon petit faon. Don't fight it, that just makes it all worse. Are you still here with me, Alastor?"

Her gaze softened as he didn't respond. He was just staring off into space, eyes looking at nothing in particular, biting his lip too hard. He was no squeezing her hand, just as he was Vox's- just as a seizing Alastor knew to be petty with Vox, he knew that Rosie truly loved him, and he still wanted her to help him. She checked her pocket watch, keeping track of the length of the seizure. 

It didn't last long, maybe a minute at most. She was glad. She felt like they were getting longer, so for this one to be relatively shorter gave her some hope. She knew she probably had just missed her opportunity to take him to the hospital to get checked out, but she also wanted him to trust her fully. It was all a very delicate situation, and one that she didn't know how to solve. 

"Welcome back," she said, rubbing his hand. He slowly blinked, seemingly coming to a bit slower than usual. Once he was back with her, he through his head in his hands. He was somehow even more tired now- something that just a few minutes ago he thought to be impossible. "Baby, we really need to get you checked out. Just because that was short and easier, doesn't mean the next one will be."

"Rosie, darling, I will be fine," he said. The cannibal woman stood up, gently rubbing one of the deer's shoulders, and she went into her kitchen to collect some water for him. "I am tired right now but all will be well, is that not what you just said?" His head felt heavy, and so did his eyelids. He allowed himself to rest for a moment, as he awaited Rosie's return. 

She filled the glass with fresh, cold water as she continued to speak to him. "Darlin', I know you won't do it because you are too stubborn, but if I were in your shoes right now I'd try to sleep. Rest is the only way we can help this if you're being too stubborn for medicines," she didn't like how quiet he was being as she walked back in. She hoped he wasn't seizing again. 

Much to her surprise, and her delight, she returned to the sight of Alastor, his head resting on crossed arms at the table. His eyelids were shut, and he was snoring gently. She was a bit surprised that he had managed to fall asleep, but she wouldn't complain, nor would she try to wake him. She wouldn't risk teleporting him to the hospital right now either, as he would probably wake. He looked far too peaceful to disturb. 

Carefully, she placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head, before returning to making breakfast. Maybe later, he would feel up for a visit at the Hazbin Hotel. She wondered if someone there could talk some sense into him. Probably not, but at least she could hope. But for now, he needed one thing and one thing only, and that was some rest. It was nice to see him finally able to get it.

A ringing phone startled her. She picked it up, after double checking to make sure that Alastor was still asleep. He was out called. She answered to hear the single greatest bit of news imaginable- the staff was almost ready. She could not wait to show Alastor. She wondered if she could somehow drop him off at the Hotel, then sneak off, acquire the staff, and teleport back. He would be so happy. 

The plan was coming together well. She was sure that someone at the Hotel could watch over him for a bit while she was gone. She was pretty confident that everyone at the Hotel knew by now. She also hoped that him sleeping now would reduce the amount of seizures later. It was all falling into place, or at least, as so she hoped.

That staff was his baby. Even if he didn't need it to keep himself healthy, he still loved it, practically like a child. She couldn't stop smiling, thinking about how happy her dear Alastor was going to be, just like a kid on Christmas morning. She almost decided to wake him up to tell him, but decided against it. He needed this sleep. He seemed so peaceful. It was nice to see, for a change.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Velvette awoke to Vox's loud voice booming over her. She startled, practically to the point where she almost jumped out of her bed. She ripped her sleeping mask off of her eyes, looking at the TV that stood in front of her. He had a grin plastered on, wide enough to take up his entire screen. "You're never gonna guess what I figured out!" 

"If this is about your redheaded boy toy I have no interest," she said, relaxing herself a bit. That's the only reason why Vox would be so excited. They could have found a way to take down the King himself and rule all of Hell, and he wouldn't be so excited. He was bouncing on his tiptoes. It would be funny if it wasn't so annoying- and if he hadn't done it before the sun was even up. 

He couldn't help himself. He was bubbling over with his excitement over the information he received. With a singsongy voice, he pressed his claws to his chest, "I know something you don't know!" He laughed hysterically until Velvette waved him off. He always said things like that when he wanted a deal out of his information. She couldn't care less, and had nothing to offer in return.

"No, Vel, you seriously do not understand! I figured out why he has been having those seizures! I figured it all out!" He took his hands in hers, which she was less than thrilled about. With a grunt, she pulled back. Before she could stop him, he continued. "It's the staff! I was up all night trying to piece one thing to another, and boom! There is healing magic in that staff, I know that for sure! That kept him seizure free!"

Velvette laid back down, beyond frustrated with the demon in front of her. How has this even become her thing? Why didn't he just go to Valentino about it? She knew she would have just stayed home the day before, and let Vox get his butt kicked at the Hotel. It would have been funny. "Good for him," she muttered, "but now, let me sleep. I am not saving you this time, whatever your plan is. You hear me?"

Vox, in fact, did not hear her. He was far too carried away in his thoughts, his hands flapping at his excitement. "That cannibal ladyfriend of his is gonna try to get his staff back. That's the kinda dark magic they have going on there, where I can't see in! All we gotta do is figure out when he gets that staff back, and break it again! Never ending fun!"

The woman was beyond tired of chasing Vox around constantly trying to keep him from doing stupid things. Between him and Valentino, she was a babysitter of two chaotic overlords in an on again off again situationship. She had to keep reminding herself that beauty was pain, and to get to the top of the food chain, she would have to suffer a bit. Turns out, suffering meant dealing with these two. 

She tuned out his ranting, wondering if she should just pull the plug, literally. He had a cable somewhere that, if she could get ahold of, he'd shut down for a bit. She had done it before, and she wasn't afraid to do it again. She just wasn't sure if it was worth the inevitable battle of trying to find it, this early in the morning. She rolled over, and slipped her mask back over her eyes. 

"Please, Vel, just let me explain," Vox whined. He sounded like he dad when Valentino was breaking up with him for the fourth time. "This gives me a way to be right back in control! And, by giving me a way, it gives all of us a way! It's not even the seizures that will be bossing him around anymore. It will be me, Vox! I basically will have full control over this situation. I just gotta get ahold of that staff!"

Laughing, Velvette shot up in bed, mask sliding off. "Vox, are you kidding me?" Whenever she thought that he couldn't get more insufferable, he said something like that. "Vox, are you jealous of his epilepsy?" Despite the frantic shaking of his head, she continued. "You are jealous that he was having seizures, and it wasn't your doing! You said last night that you tried to set them off, and it didn't work! You are jealous, aren't you love?"

"Seriously, Velvette? Do you actually think that?" Vox tried to laugh it off, but he knew that Velvette was right. He hated that Velvette was right. He was jealous- he wanted Alastor to suffer, but he wanted it to be his fault. "I just wanna break his precious little staff in front of him. I don't want that old creep Adam to have that eternal privilege. I want to see his little, stupid face when I do it!"

There was no doubt in Velvette's mind that she was going to lose this debate. Vox was going to get his way, one way or another. She would be doing damage control again. She was the self proclaimed backbone and braincell of the Vs, but she was also the damage control expert. After all, she was their social media manager. "Vox, are you sure this is worth it?" 

"Oh please. Am I sure this is worth it? Yes, of course it is! That was almost invigorating, and I didn't even do it. That was the best moment of my life since he got stabbed in the chest with that holy metal! Now imagine when I'm the one causing it!" He stopped, realizing just how jealous he actually sounded. He wasn't doing much to help his cause here. 

"Just, don't do anything dumb, please," Velvette did not feel like answering right now. She hadn't even checked the time yet. She was enjoying the comedy of it all, but it was somehow going to all end up being her fault, wasn't it. "I do not want to be thrown in the middle of this, unless you can think of something actually interesting for me in return here. Does he have deerskin? That would be interesting."

"I have an idea! What if I took him back here! Wait, no, what if I give that freak an ultimatum! He either hands over his precious little staff, or I take it myself, and get to broadcast one of his little fits on every single VoxTek device, on your Sinstagram Live, on everything! Velvette, giving him the illusion of the control is the best way to get to Alastor! Please, I'd do anything for your help. I could be your little model for a day if you want me to!"

Velvette's eyes widened. She didn't need or even want Vox to be her model- who would want that? But this was the most appealing offer that she had ever received. Alastor gives up his staff, Vox gets in a dress. She smiled, imagining spreading photos of him all over the internet in every outfit she could find. Revenge for years of damage control, if you will. "That, my friend, is a deal. Get ready to wear the prettiest princess dress in all of Hell."

Both of them truly thought they were on the same page about this idea. Vox knew that he would be inevitably embarrassed by all of this, but there were so many options, and Velvette just had to help him. She thought that her job would simply be posting a few photos on social media- there was no way Alastor would give up his staff. Before she could think it through all the way, Vox offered out his hand. "It's a deal, my dear Velvette."

Chapter Text

Everyone waited anxiously in the parlor, excited as a puff of smoke appeared in front of them. As it cleared, the figures of Rosie and Alastor could be made out. She had her arm wrapped around him, which was probably less than the way he wanted to be seen, but some things had to be done certain ways to get the teleportation to work. Upon seeing the Radio Demon, everyone was thrilled. 

He had seemed much better than the night before, especially to Vaggie. The last time she had seen him, he was panicking and bleeding, curled up on Rosie's lap on the radio tower's floor. Now he stood like the proud man he usually was, pulling away from Rosie's hug the moment he knew for sure that he was fully materialized in the Hotel. He looked around, giving a nod to everyone there, before his eyes fell upon someone very unwelcome. 

It was Lucifer. The King himself was there, standing with his hands on his hips. His smile quickly faded into a smug frown upon seeing Alastor- he should have known better than to trust that the guest for the surprise party was just some random sinner, as Charlie had assured him. He had hoped it would have been Sir Pentious' return from Heaven. But now, he was looking right at that jerk. The best part, was that he had to babysit him. 

Charlie had given him the day's plan hours ago. Rosie, that cannibal leader who he definitely didn't trust, but at least could put up with, was taking some lowly sinner to the hotel. She was going to leave, everyone was going to hide up in the sinner's new room, and he would be in charge of watching the new guest until Rosie returned. Once she did, he would take the guest up to their room, where Rosie would have teleported to. 

Rosie was supposedly going to get some magical staff for the guy. Lucifer realized just how hard he had been played, be his own daughter no less. If he wasn't trying so hard to gain back her affection and trust, he probably would have thought about it all more, and would have expected that Alastor was the man coming in. He had a magic staff. He hadn't seen him much since the battle, but maybe it got broken. He didn't seem to have it now.

At least everyone else seemed like they were having a good time, besides Lucifer and Alastor. The two of them stayed as far away from each other as they possibly could. Lucifer still had a daughter to win over, and Alastor, well, he just wasn't in the right state to cause any trouble. The last thing he needed was to have a seizure in front of that stupid, short King. 

Like usual, he stuck by Rosie's side, practically glued to her. He kept noticing the stray glances coming from the King, which was making him feel even more uncomfortable. Even from across the room, the stare was burning into him. He didn't feel nervous about him, as the usual sinner would if they were in a fight with the King of Hell. He was just very annoyed with him. He was irritating. 

There was a small part of him, one that he didn't want to acknowledge, that wondered if Lucifer had to power to cure him. No, he couldn't think like that. He didn't need the help of some small loser like him. He was perfectly fine just waiting for his staff. He needed that staff. Lucifer should never actually get the pleasure of helping him. And then Charlie would be so thankful to him, and here they would go again. 

So, Alastor had reduced his day down to exactly two goals. The first being to not seize, at least not in a place that Lucifer could see him, and the second being to not give the King any sort of gratification. Don't let him get the gratification of helping him, of helping Charlie, of helping anyone. He made sure to keep Charlie with him and Rosie the entire time. He thought it was possible she would even say something to him. 

This was, of course, a secret, but it seemed like secrets weren't being kept well. Lucifer was the only one here who didn't know. It sucked a little, he figured, because maybe, if he wasn't there, he could let his guard down a little bit. He would still have to force on the facade, but maybe he would get through it. Now, he had no choice but to completely avoid seizing, which wasn't really within his control. Alastor hated not being in control. 

"Hey, Alastor, Angel's talking to you," Alastor blinked hard, snapping away from his thoughts. Charlie, Angel, and Rosie were all engaging in a conversation. It was boring enough that he had started thinking about that dumb King again. "Are you feeling alright? Sorry, I shouldn't be checking all the time, it's-"

"Do not apologize, my dear," Alastor gave Charlie a gentle pat on the shoulder. He was near positive that Lucifer was still watching him. He wouldn't like seeing Alastor being so affectionate with the princess. "I can understand why you would have your concerns, but I see no reason to worry your pretty little head about it!" He annunciated those last words, hoping it was loud enough for the King to hear. 

Before he could check, he heard a familiar click of a pocket watch being pulled. Rosie was looking at it, smiling one of the biggest smiles that he had ever seen from her. "Why look here, have you all noticed the time?" She winked towards Charlie, who seemed like she was about to burst from her wave of excitement. "I feel I must be going. Alastor, just stay here with miss Charlie, ok?" 

He nodded, watching Rosie snap her fingers and disappear into her smoke. It was odd, to see her using her teleportation powers so much. Rosie was a simple woman, and a woman who loved a nice, long stroll down the streets of Hell. The sun was setting- this was her favorite time of day. He understood why she teleported with him, as to keep him out of the public eye. He heard Vaggie yelling something out. He could figure this out later. 

"Alright, change of plans," the moth said, approaching Charlie and her group. "We have a surprise for you, Alastor. But you can't see it ahead of time. I think what we're going to do is send Lucifer up to the room with us, and leave Angel down here to make sure that Alastor doesn't peek," her voice trailed at the end, realizing that the whole concept of basically babysitting Alastor would likely make him more than uncomfortable. 

"Maggie, there is no need to worry," Lucifer came up behind Vaggie, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I mean, oh, what's your name again. Vargaret!" He laughed, as if that was going to make anything better. It didn't. "I believe that I am more than capable of being alone with Al! My coparent now, am I right?"

Charlie was so excited to hear that her dad actually wanted to give it a shot. Vaggie rolled her eyes. "The chances of both of you coming out of this alive are pretty much slim to none."

Alastor stepped towards Lucifer. "I think you are overreacting, my dearest Vagatha! I'm sure two gentlemen could have a peaceful conversation, could they not? That is, assuming that Charlotte's dad is one." 

There was a look of panic across Charlie's eyes, before she calmed herself down. Maybe if they argued enough, they'd be able to keep Alastor distracted. The only goal here was to make sure he doesn't get any alone time. That was probably a bit of an overreaction in and of itself, but everyone was nervous about him. After that seizure yesterday, no one actually wanted him alone. 

Pulling the King aside, Vaggie whispered in his year, "you better make sure that the freak doesn't get out of your sights, alright? It is of utmost importance because of the," he didn't know. She almost slipped up. "Because of the gift. He's a very perceptive man and if he gets any alone time he could easily sneak off and ruin the whole surprise. If there's an emergency, just call Charlie." 

"Of course, Vartha!" Lucifer responded, shooting finger guns at her. He said that line a bit too loudly, picking up the attention of Alastor across the room. His eyes narrowed, but his smile stayed unchanged. Vaggie was a little bit offended by the name mess up- especially after the deer had literally just said her name- but whatever. There were bigger issues to handle right now. 

"Just, be nice and everything will be fine! It will be so good for you to have some bonding time!" Charlie said, waving as she followed after her girlfriend. Vaggie was shaking her head, exasperated. There was no possible situation in which this could end in anything short of a disaster. "Please call me if you need anything! And make sure that Alastor doesn't see the gift!"

"Will do, daughter," Lucifer shot his finger guns at his daughter now. He never actually put them down from when he did it to Vaggie. He turned to face Alastor, after he thought everyone had left the room, but was soon surprised by Vaggie returning, arms crossed over her chest. 

"I don't trust you two," she stated, looking back and forth between the Radio Demon and the King. "Charlie somehow thinks that you all will grow to like each other if she locks you up together long enough. Because, you know, it's a well known fact that Alastor warms up to people," she sighed, before turning away. "If anything happens, Alastor, I will end your life."

"Oh please, little old me will give you no reason to worry!" Alastor reached to lean on his staff, but nearly found himself plummeting to the ground when it wasn't there. Lucifer began to laugh, which garnered a sudden bright flash of red eyes at the King. "If anyone's going to do give you a reason, it's going to be this little fellow."

Lucifer groaned. If it weren't for his daughter, Alastor would be feeling it right now. He was trying to make amends with her, and, apparently, to do that, he had to pretend to be decent with Alastor. But it is really hard to reign it all in when you were the literal King, with the most magic in all of Hell, and someone so annoying, and who you despised so much, was alone with you and taunting you to your face. 

With a wave of his arm, Lucifer silently invited Alastor over to the bar. He poured his own martini, leaving Alastor to pour his own bourbon- he needed it more than just about anything. As he sipped it, he briefly remembered how alcohol had always seemed to be a trigger of his seizures, but he wasn't too worried about it. Rosie was right. Sometimes, you just had to live. 

He soon regretted his afterlife choices. He was now stuck at a bar, with his head pounding, a half full glass of bourbon next to him, had a headache that threatened to make him ill, the King was in front of him rambling about rubber ducks, and was fighting the fog that would fall upon him right before a seizure. Great work. 

"Now, if you would excuse me, I must get to my tower momentarily, I have an important broadcast to make," he said, chugging down the last bit of his alcohol. He thankfully was far from drunk. It took more than a simple bourbon on the rocks to get him tipsy. But he still felt so dazed. He wasn't even positive he could teleport to his room at this point. 

"No no, Bambi," Lucifer teased, sticking his short leg out in front of him. Alastor's eyes widened as he sat back down. He didn't seem to have much time now. "Charlie and Varia said that I am supposed to keep a watch on you, so you're not going anywhere!" His words slurred a little. He was already finishing at least his second drink.

“Look, I promise I’m not going to look at this gift,” Alastor replied, trying to stand up. He really didn’t need this happening in front of the King of Hell, of all people. With his staff, Lucifer pushed him back down into his chair. It was in this moment that Alastor realized that he must accept his fate. He was just going to have a seizure in front of the King himself. Why they were so good at picking bad times, he would never know. 

“Good,” Lucifer said, turning back to the bar in front of him. He still kept a watch on the deer out of the corner of his eye. He began to talk about his rubber ducks again, which never truly made much sense to Alastor, but now it made even less. Everything was melting together, the words jumbling in his brain. It felt like he was listening from underwater. 

The fact of the matter was that Alastor could simply not afford to start a seizure right now. Not as long as Lucifer was the only person here. He had to either get away- but judging by how dizzy he was that was quickly deemed impossible- or just try to force himself to not have one. Or at least to delay it, or when someone else was there to keep him company. 

All he had to do was somehow fight it. He had to fight through the headache, fight through the dizziness, fight through the feeling of being drowned. He just had to push through, keep that smile on his face, and nod. Even if he actually wanted to talk with Lucifer, he soon found it nearly impossible to respond. His mouth felt disconnected from his brain. 

What he didn't realize was that his mouth was more connected to his brain than he realized. He was mumbling much of this out loud. Lucifer heard it all. "Combattez-le, Alastor. Fight it. Restez ici, stay here!" None of it made any sense to the King, who had stopped talking about his ducks, and was just giving a weird look at the Radio Demon. The last thing that Alastor realized was that he was, in fact, saying it all aloud. Then, he was out.

Lucifer just watched for a moment, as Alastor's tired eyes seemed to fade into completely unaware ones. "Woah, what happened to you bud? Did that drink set in?" Lucifer asked, laughing. "Are you gonna let me touch you now?" Lucifer was too drunk to be thinking straight. He took Alastor's limp hand in his and started tugging his arm. Nothing. Now that was weird. 

"You barely had one bourbon," he slurred out, giggling. "Charlie always says that you can drink and down so much alcohol and not have any problems? That not true, bud?" He asked. Alastor blinked hard, trying to come back again. He muttered those same French phrases. Despite being the King of Hell, Lucifer, especially a drunk Lucifer, didn't know anything other than English. "What was that, Al?"

He chuckled at how Alastor looked, and ow he just let him touch his ears. This whole time he thought it was his hair. He should probably go tell Charlie that her hotelier friend was drunk out of his mind. He began to walk up towards Charlie's room, where she said she would be, even though he was starting to forget which number it was.

The King was pretty sure that he was almost at Charlie's room, when his phone buzzed. It was a very specific, unsettling buzz. One that he had feared the day in which he would get it. This was the buzz that meant that someone was touching his rubber duck collection, specifically the one at the hotel. And then, it all made sense. 

As he rushed through the halls with a newfound sobriety, he knew it. Alastor's drunkenness was all a stunt, wasn't it? He had done that creepy shadow crawling thing to get into his room, and mess with his rubber duckies. That was Alastor. What a scoundrel, that Alastor. He knew not to trust him. He had to stop him. 

Flinging his door open, Lucifer rushed inside, running straight to his duckies. "Alastor! You jerk! I knew you were up to something, I knew it! Don't you touch my rubber ducks!" He stopped as his eyes drifted down towards a tiny cyclops, dusting his collecting with her feather duster. "Oh. It's you, and not the creepy freak?"

Niffty shook her head. "Oh, I apologize Your Majesty, I was just bored waiting for Rosie to get back with Alastor's staff and started dusting! There is way too much dust on your ducks, Mr. King. So I'm just trying to help you out, sir! I'm just cleaning up the mess!" She smiled shyly, and Lucifer nodded. He couldn't really be too mad at her, if she was just trying to help. At least it wasn't Alastor. 

He leaned against the doorframe, closing his eyes. "Sorry, uh, I forget your name. Alastor is drunk out of his mind! Charlie always said, he could drink whatever he wanted! Oh, he couldn't get drunk! He barely finished a single bourbon and he is out cold!" He began laughing harder, until the small maid stopped him. 

She jumped up a bit to tap him on his chest. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but Mr. Alastor doesn't get drunk after one bourbon. Are you sure he is alright?" She looked a little worried. Lucifer didn't care. It was Alastor, that freak would bounce back time and time again. "Sir, I think we should go tell Charlie."

Lucifer knew that she had a point. "Alright, fine," he slurred. His adrenaline had worn off enough, and he was feeling exceptionally drunk again. Taking Niffty's hand, he began to walk to Charlie's room, letting her lead the way. He would have definitely got lost along the way if it weren't for her. It must have been serious, he thought to himself. Niffty would never leave a mess. 

For the second time in the past few minutes, the King flung a door open. This time, it was to Charlie's room. Everyone was laughing and joking to each other, waiting for Rosie. All eyes suddenly shifted to the door, expecting it to be the cannibal who they had been waiting for. Instead, it was Lucifer and Niffty. There was no Alastor in sight. 

"Dad, you were supposed to stay with Alastor!" Charlie jumped up off of her bed, and came racing towards him. She froze in front of him, more than concerned. Vaggie trailed right behind her, ready to run out the door. "I told you that you had to stay with him! Is he ok, did something happen to him?"

"Well that's a fine how do you do, father," Lucifer laughed. "Look, he's way too drunk to be checking for your little gift. He is drunk out of his mind Charlie! He let me touch him, play with those ears, did you know that those were ears, and not hair? Oh also, Char Char, I'm also a bit drunk, by the way."

Charlie grabbed his hand as quickly as she could, and began running down the hall with him, with Vaggie leading the way. Everyone was rushing. Why was everyone rushing? Vaggie was the first to explain. "He better still be in that lobby, Lucifer. Al sometimes wanders off during his seizures, who knows what trouble is- out there," she stopped speaking, remembering that Lucifer didn't know. Mierda. 

The King froze, practically forcing Charlie backwards wit his sudden stop. "Wait, since when has Bambi had seizures? Did he wander off? What are we gonna do if that happened?" Despite his hate for Alastor, he soon found himself on the brink of tears, head buried into his daughter. "What if we lost him? Now what are you gonna do, baby?" 

"You are more than a bit drunk," Vaggie said, spinning around and pointing at the pair. "Hun, could you just make sure that he doesn't do anything else that's stupid, and then we'll go grab Alastor. No wonder why he let you touch him, Lucifer! He was jodidamente unconscious, not just drunk!" Niffty nodded in agreement. If Vaggie wasn't running down the hall, she would probably face her girlfriend's dad, the literal King of Hell, head on. 

"Can you believe that he said we?" Vaggie asked to no one in particular. Angel and Niffty were still at her sides, running with her, hoping that Alastor hadn't actually ran off. Maybe she was just jumping to conclusions. Hopefully she was just jumping to conclusions. As she finally made it into the parlor, she stared at the bar where it seemed like Alastor was left. She exhaled. "Of course he's not here!"

Chapter Text

Alastor didn't know. He couldn't tell. What did he not know? What could he not tell? He was unsure. He was at the bar still, his empty glass in front of him, and Lucifer was gone. That was a plus. Was he done seizing? He didn't know. Maybe that's what he didn't know. He wasn't fully there, even though he could feel the hard wood of the bar under is one hand. No one was talking, so he didn't know if he could understand words. 

He tried to speak, to test that out, but nothing except a low moan managed to leave his mouth. His face was numb. Why was his face numb? He then noticed the pain stabbing through his head- that took awhile to notice. Wait, that headache. That wasn't a post-seizure headache, was it? Even though he couldn't out it into words, even if he had to, the ones before and the ones after felt very different, although both were painful. 

This seemed like a pre-seizure headache. Had he actually ever seized? He wasn't entirely positive. He thought so, but this felt like the moments before another one, if those moments lasted minutes. He thought it was lasting minutes. He couldn't see a clock. Seizure time was different from regular time. Everything was in both slow motion and sped up, all at once. Maybe he had just come out of one, and was going right into another. 

Vaguely, he could remember back, before he got his healing magic, sometimes they clustered like this. Rosie always said that it was bad when they did. She always threatened to send him to the hospital when this happened. He didn't want to go. Even if he did, right now, he was screwed. He could only barely move his head, his hands, and his legs. He couldn't even pound the bar loudly. This hands could move, but they were weak.

His head dropped into his now folded arms. He didn't remember actually ever folding them. He tried to convince himself that he intentionally set his head down, but that was not true. He closed his eyes. He was tired. Beyond tired. Sometimes, he could stop a seizure if he fell asleep soon enough. It wouldn't be hard to fall asleep right now. He felt himself began to doze already. That was easy enough. 

By the time he awoke again, he heard a voice from behind him. He thought that was behind him. The voice sounded so familiar, and he disliked it. No, he hated it. He hated that voice, even though he didn't know who it belonged to. How long had it been? He couldn't force himself to awaken all the way. He was still lightly dozing, trying to come back to the Hotel that he knew he was at, but he couldn't bring his eyes to open. 

The next thing he knew, he was finally able to open them, even if just a bit. He made out an odd shape looming over him, dressed in shades of blues and reds and black. It was a weird shape for a demon. His ears perked up at the mention of a word that he did very much recognize. The figure had mentioned a staff. Was his staff ready? He hoped nothing more than it to be.

Even the thought of finally having it back in his grasp sent a chill up his spine. He would finally be free from all this that he had been spiraled into over the past week and a half. Maybe, if he could get his hands on it right now, this little episode itself would end, before it got worse. It was getting worse. But his staff would stop him from seizing again. He needed that staff. 

Once again he tried to speak, but not much came out. It was at least a little better than the moan he got last time. His eyelids began to shut again, and he needed all of his strength to keep them open, taking some of his strength away from fighting the fog in his mind, from talking- he had nothing left for that anymore. All of his strength was going to keeping his eyes open. 

Was the voice still talking? Alastor thought so, even if he couldn't make out the words. Closing his eyes seemed to help him make out the words better. He seemed to be able to do only one thing at once. There was an unwelcome, less than gentle touch on his shoulder, prompting his eyes to open once more. The figure was still there, or was it? He didn't know if he was hallucinating him at this point. 

"Alastor?" The voice inquired, once again touching his shoulder. The deer couldn't respond. He had too much energy to spend. He had to keep his eyes open. More importantly, he had to stop himself from slipping into another seizure. Or maybe it was just a continuation of the one from before. All he knew is that he had reason to believe that this figure could be a threat, even if he couldn't fight back. 

It seemed like he had stopped talking to him, although he was still talking. Alastor soon heard another voice, too, coming from the wristwatch that the figure was wearing. This was a feminine voice, one that sounded pleasant, and spoke with some accent. He could probably identify it if he was more conscious than he was. She sounded like she was fighting with the figure. 

"Look man, you gotta wake yourself up a bit more," the figure coaxed. He felt sharp claws running through his hair. He almost liked the touch. Almost. Everything became distorted again, despite how hard he was working, how desperately he was trying to make sense of this situation. "Alastor. Come on. Just a little talk with me and it'll be all over. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

Something about those words- an assurance that the figure was not going to hurt him- made him even more uneasy. Who would promise someone that they weren't going to hurt them, unless they had other plans? At least in Hell, those words were among the more common ones to hear as your last. Alastor had to move. He had no choice but to figure out a way to get his body to move. 

His body wasn't moving. He could feel his ears flicking about, seemingly more responsive to the figure than he was. He tried to channel that energy, and move it to his eyelids. Maybe he was getting somewhere here. Maybe he was finally snapping himself out of his stupor. He blankly looked at the figure, just listening to his jumbled words, "could we make a deal?" Wait. He knew that voice. That was Vox. 

"No," he managed to say. He was surprised that he was actually able to get the word out. Maybe the sight of his enemy was enough to snap him out of it. He began to realize just how pathetic he sounded, but he didn't have much time to worry about that. He was going to stand up, and leave. He may have been stubborn, but he wasn't dumb. He knew when to retreat. If only he had done that with Adam. Before he lost his staff. 

Vox was less than happy about this whole situation. He wished he could end Alastor on the spot- if Velvette had actually let him take some angelic steel with him. But no, she had to send him there without anything. Angelic steel couldn't easily be summoned. "Look, Alastor, I promise that I am not gonna hurt you, ok? I'm not pathetic enough to take down my rival when he's only half conscious, unlike someone else we know."

He did it in his singsongy voice, the one that he had directly stolen from Alastor himself. Just because he hated him, didn't mean he had to completely leave all of his habits in the past. He was, in fact, still quite useful. Like this staff. Not only would taking it be such a humiliating defeat for the Radio Demon, but, as Velvette had pointed out, there had to be some great powers in that staff. Imagine the Vs with it. 

Velvette didn't seem to actually care about Alastor himself. They didn't like each other, but they didn't hate each other. They simply existed in the same Hell, bound by the fact that they both knew Vox. Sure, she was Vox's business partner, but he could get annoying at times, like now, when he had done all this just to embarrass a man. The least she could do was get some use out of Vox's obsession, and get that magical staff. 

That's why she had let him go here in the first place. Sure, the whole princess dress thing sounded fun, but she had so many ideas for that staff. That could easily be the beginning of her climb to individual power, not just that made with the two fools she worked with. It was tiring, trying to keep them both in check. Especially Vox right now. She couldn't let him do anything that would ruin the Vs image. 

She had given the TV Demon some ground rules for this visit. All he could do was take his staff. He could not hurt him in any way, shape, or form. If he wanted to do that, he could on his own time. She kept reminding him how weak he would seem if he needed to wait for Alastor to be down before he hurt him. There was no angelic steel allowed, and he was not allowed to hang up on her call. Otherwise, she would come over. 

The TV had been waiting in a camera for the past 30 minutes or so, staring through a window, waiting for the literal King of Hell to stop chatting Alastor's ear off at the bar. The King of Hell liked rubber ducks? Now that was a new one. Vox was anxious. He wanted to get that staff. He had heard one side of that Rosie's conversation about it- she refused VoxTek, as did much of Cannibal Town, but not the man working on the staff, apparently. 

When Lucifer did leave, it seemed, for better or for worse, that Alastor was out. It only lasted a few minutes before he appeared to be coming to. Now was his chance to get the staff. Vel had forbidden him from breaking it, but at least he could take it. He locked the door as he entered, making sure no one else could barge in- namely Vel. And that is how he found himself here, standing in front of the Radio Demon, who was barely awake.

Most of the response that he was actually getting came from the twitches in his ears, which seemed involuntary, but yet they responded to his voice. They twitched whenever he spoke, frequently pinning themselves down. Vox was making Alastor afraid. What a feeling. He watched the deer struggle to hold his head up, looking no more aware than he did with his head on the table. It bobbed back and forth, fighting sleep. 

"I am not here to hurt you," he reiterated, thinking about rubbing Alastor's shoulder again. Why was he being so gentle? He had convinced himself that it was his own ego, wanting to face the Radio Demon at full strength, but in reality, it was mostly his fear of Velvette, and the little bit of him that didn't want that freak dead. It would be a pretty boring existence if he was gone. And also Velvette would kill him. 

After waiting for another minute or so, watching Alastor continuously fighting off sleep, or a seizure, or whatever he was fighting, he spoke again. "I don't have anything in my possession to hurt you, even if I wanted to. All I wanna know is where your staff is. I am going to take your staff, and there's clearly nothing you can do about it," he heard Velvette groan through his watch. He wasn't supposed to be so blunt about it. 

"Not here," Alastor replied, finally allowing his head to sink back into his crossed arms. He couldn't hold his head up, and speak, and keep himself conscious, all at the same time. Vox appeared to be quite enraged by his response. "Don't have it," he tried again, his mouth tightening at those last few words. That was all he had in him right now. 

Vox growled, trying to be menacing. It was almost pathetic. He was getting more and more mad at Velvette by the moment now. She was barking orders at him, and the curtain was beginning to come off. The TV was starting to understand why she was so on board with this plan. She clearly wanted the staff as much as he did, even if for different reasons. 

He couldn't really do much right now. He grabbed one of Alastor's wrists, only getting a faint, mumbled "don't touch" in reply. He kept asking about that darned staff, but he couldn't do much. If Alastor did have it, he couldn't really make him get it right now. He couldn't move. Velvette was getting antsy. Everyone was. 

Hurried footsteps. The sound registered to the TV Demon, who looked around nervously. He didn't see anyone near him. Was Lucifer coming back? No, Lucifer seemed way too drunk when he left to actually be running like that. Maybe it was Vaggie- he didn't want to deal with her and her angelic spear right now, either. He was starting to freak out. He couldn't go back to Velvette empty handed at this point. He'd never hear the end of it. 

"Listen, Vox, please. Just zap your little hollow screen back over here before anyone finds you!" Velvette yelled, glaring at him. The TV looked at her, then looked back at the Radio Demon. He wanted to say no, he wanted to fight her, but she was right. He had to swallow his pride and go. "Take a deep breath, calm down, and get over here before your magic glitches and you're stuck there and left for dead. I'm not coming to help you."

"Going to- seizure," Alastor said, making his best effort to actually get words out. It didn't feel right. He was unsure if he actually said it, but Vox seemed to hear it. He couldn't understand what the TV Demon was saying in reply. He was on his last few moments on awareness, before he was going to be completely unconscious, and left to Vox's will. If he wanted to kill him, there was going to be nothing to stop him. 

With Velvette's continued yelling, Vox finally made his decision. He had to go. "Ok fine, whatever, have your dumb seizure. I'll be back Alastor, I promise, and I might not be so nice next time!" Alastor only hummed a response. That's all he could manage to do. Vox snapped his clawed fingers, feeling the bolt of electricity come through him, taking him away. But in his panicked state, he forgot one major thing- to let go of Alastor. 

The TV opened his eyes, feeling the surge of electricity die down. He was safe, unless Vel decided to kill him, but she really couldn't. She still wanted that staff. But as the tingling subsided, he felt his mistake still in his grasp. This time, he was the one holding Alastor. He was at the Vs Tower, with Alastor in tow. Velvette crossed her arms and stared at Vox. He gave her a nervous smile and wave. "I am going to end your pathetic life, Vox."

Rosie typically closed her eyes upon materializing in her flame. That's what she did as she arrived back in Charlie's bedroom. She didn't want the smoke to get in her eyes, it would sting and burn and she simply didn't have time for such nonsense today. She came with news- she wouldn't call it good news, but she wouldn't call it bad news either. Neutral. It wasn't what she hoped for, but it wasn't the worst case scenario, either. 

She kept her eyes closed, waiting for the smoke to clear, as she began to speak. "So, I would say the grand celebration may have to wait a bit," she said, "Louis said it was ready, but guess that hard workin' wife of his wasn't done. The good news is that I did get some pills for him, I could probably pop these babies in chunks of venison, he wouldn't know a thing! I'm gonna treat that boy like Belle, I'll tell you! That'll hold us over." 

But when she opened her eyes, she wasn't greeted by the full room she expected. Rather, she saw Charlie, laying on her bed, texting on her phone, with her father sobbing into her chest. Wasn't he the one who was supposed to be on Alastor duty? She had warned them days ago to not leave those two together. Charlie's eyes met hers, and she offered a weak, nervous smile. 

"What happened, darlin'?" Rosie asked. She probably didn't want the answer. She figured that the King wasn't crying over Alastor- there was no way he actually cared that much about him. She was more concerned about Charlie's reaction. She looked nervous, and kept desperately checking her phone, seemingly waiting for someone to text her back. 

"We lost Alastor," she grimaced as she said those words, before freezing, her girlfriend seemingly crossing her mind. She corrected herself, "my dad lost Alastor. If you can't tell, he got drunk, apparently Al had a seizure, and now he's not at the bar where we left him. Didn't help that someone had to check his duck collection before telling us what was going on," she glanced down at her dad, who was still crying like the drunk man he was. 

The cannibal woman sighed. She should have seen this coming. She did see it coming. She saw it coming from a mile away, but she hoped that they would at least be able to take care of Alastor for just a few minutes. It hadn't even been that long. She went to sit next to the Princess on her bed, who was still consoling her father. "The good news is that I know the best hangover cure, for what your old man is gonna deal with tomorrow."

Her calmness was soothing to Charlie. At least, if she seemed relaxed, it couldn't be that bad, right? Rosie tilted her head, looking over at Charlie's phone. "Oh, sorry Rosie. Vaggie and everyone else, they're all looking for Al. I'm staying here with my dad so that we don't lose someone else. Vaggie is trying to keep me updated on what's going on," her voice began to crack with tears. 

"Oh, Charlie," Rosie wrapped her arms around the girl, letting her cry. She had been trying to stay strong for her dad. "What do you say sweetheart, your dad is drunker than Cooter Brown but he'll probably stay in the room here. Do you wanna go join me to look for Al, or would you rather sit here for a bit? Whatever you wanna do, I'll do with you babe."

Charlie nodded, and gently rolled her father over. "Ok dad, I'll be back soon, I promise!" She said as she stood up, getting off the other side of the bed than Rosie. "Please, stay right here, or use my ensuite. That is it. We cannot lose someone else tonight, right?" She wondered if this was a bad idea, but unlike Alastor, her dad was at least conscious, even if a bit emotional. 

"Alright Char Char!" He replied, giving his daughter a lazy thumbs up. "I swear baby girl, I didn't mean to lose your freaky friend! I'm sure he'll be fine my love! Just, stick with the kind lady there and I'm sure everything will be a-ok!" He started laughing hysterically, as Rosie clicked the door shut behind Charlie, shaking her head. 

"And this is his happy drunk stage," Charlie said, taking Rosie's hand in hers. The two women walked down the halls rather quickly, making their way into the lobby. Everyone was looking around, not sure if he may have fallen asleep under something, or in some corner somewhere. They all reeled back upon seeing Rosie. 

Vaggie walked over to her girlfriend, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. She shook Rosie's hand- no one else knew about the incident at the radio tower. She felt awful, even though Rosie seemed calm and cool. "Al couldn't have gotten far," Vaggie said, "and the door is locked from the inside. He couldn't have actually left the building in that timeframe. Niffty is checking the tower. He's either in here somewhere, or- mierda!" 

Before anyone asked her what was wrong, she turned around to face the group. "Does anyone know if that pendejo can teleport while he's in a seizure? The last thing we need right now is for him to have teleported away. He could be just about anywhere in Hell!" She spun around to face Rosie, who still seemed calm as she listened to the moth. 

"I can't say that I've seen him do that before. I think that it shuts down his magic, more or less," Rosie put her hands on Vaggie's shoulders, trying to reassure her, even though it didn't seem to help much. "We're gonna get our Alastor, I promise. He really couldn't have gone that far. He doesn't tend to wander off far away," Vaggie picked up on the tone in her voice. She was reassuring herself too. 

The moth nodded. "We've gotta divide and conquer here. I'll stay here, in case I need to fight anyone or whatever. Rosie, just stick with Charlie. Niffty is up in the tower," Rosie stopped listening at that point. Even if she wasn't going to show it, she was nervous. At least she had some medicines now to give him. 

She knew she shouldn't have left him with Lucifer. She was smarter than that. And now he was gone. "Alright dearest," she said, once Vaggie finished speaking, "I'll just stick by your side. He's probably hidden in plain sight!" She chuckled again, doing the one thing she always yelled at Alastor for. She was putting on a mask.

Chapter Text

Being an overlord had many bonuses. One of them being that you didn't have to be afraid of much. That's why there was so little that Vox was actually afraid of. Sure, he could maybe be impacted by an Extermination, but that only came once a year, and he lived in one of the most fortified places in all of Hell. There were more powerful overlords, but he had teleportation powers. He could get away pretty easily. 

But there was one thing that he was, in fact, deathly afraid of. And that thing was staring him right in the face. That thing being a very angry Velvette, and worse yet, a very angry Velvette who was very angry at him. He denied it up and down, but he knew that she had him and Valentino wrapped around her little finger. If she was unhappy, they would have to rectify the situation, and quick. 

That's why Vox was nervous. He stood there, offering an awkward smile and wave to Velvette, whose arms were crossed over her chest. Even though she was quite a bit smaller than him, that venomous glare was enough to terrify both Vox and Valentino. He didn't get the staff that he promised her, but at least he didn't get caught! He was sure he could soon return to the Hotel. He didn't know why Velvette was so upset. 

Until, he did. He noticed it standing off to his side. It was Alastor. Did he not release him when he was teleporting? He must not have. And now he was here, in the V Tower's living room, with an angry Velvette in front of him, and a barely conscious Alastor to his side. Velvette had already threatened to kill him. He was going to keep his mouth shut until he had to speak. The silence was awkward. 

Alastor was the one to break it. He was staring into nothing, his head bobbing up and down, fighting the urge to let himself slip into unconsciousness, in some form or another. "Am going to have seizure," he slurred out, his lips beginning to tremble after saying that. He knew there was nothing he could do. He was going out whether he wanted it or not. He was probably going to die. 

There was no way that Vox was going to miss this opportunity to kill him. He was right here, in his own tower, with Vox standing next to him. He knew about all of the weapons he had access to. He would be lucky to just be killed, and not tortured in the process. It was his papa's last laugh. Directly or not, his seizures, caused by his injury- that was going to be the end of him. Everything was slipping away. This was his pathetic goodbye.

"Before you say it, you aren't gonna kill him. So, are you going to do something about this?" Velvette was frantically motioning towards Alastor, screaming directly to the very nervous TV in front of her. "Can you just, I don't know Vox, just get him back to the Hotel or something! Teleport him back you fool! How did you even manage to do this? What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know Vel! I panicked! I can't unpanic!" Vox took a deep breath. He really, really didn't want to teleport him back, in case someone would find them in the lobby. There was no doubt in his mind that Velvette wouldn't let him kill Alastor. Her look said it all. Even if he was nervous, he would have to take him back and face his consequences. Oh well. The afterlife was fun while he lived it. 

He grabbed onto Alastor again, snapping his fingers, and felt the electricity come over him, spread into Alastor, and- stop. It pulsated for a moment, until it disappeared. He was still there, and so was Alastor. He tried again, but the same thing happened. Was he too frantic to actually use him magic properly? It had been a while since that had happened. Or was it something about Alastor that was stoppit it? The electricity stopped at him. 

Vox laughed a little, watching Velvette's expression only get angrier. Ok, at least that part wasn't his fault. He at least tried to get him back. Something in Alastor was stopping it from happening. He turned to face the Radio Demon, and saw that same stare he saw the other day. He was tugging hard on his coat. All the TV could think about, was how there was no way that this was actually happening.

"You muppet! He's not conscious, look at his face!" Velvette pushed Vox backwards. From what they could have ever been able to tell, teleportation only actually worked on conscious people. Usually that was for the better. Right now, it was for the worse. "You must have pulled him over here just before he went out, and now look! Vox, this is your mess to fix, you know that right?" 

"Yes, Velvette," the TV Demon sighed. "Could you make a call over to that cannibal lady's store and tell her that we've got her little fawn over here and he needs a ride. Offer to give her some if your top fashion for free or something, I dunno, she seems to like big and stupid and frilly dresses, doesn't she?"

Velvette rolled her eyes. Vox's insults didn't bother her much anymore, especially since he still had his end of their deal to hold- he was going to have to wear one of her big and stupid and frilly dresses. "I think we should just let him wake up and then we could take him back," she looked closer at Vox, poking Alastor around his lips. "Don't do that."

"Well then what am I supposed to do?" Vox whined. He bounced up and down a little, shaking his hands for emphasis. He had no clue what to do with an unconscious Alastor. He didn't want to help him- that was a lie. He wanted to help him, because no one can hurt the Radio Demon besides Vox. Besides, he didn't necessarily want to kill him, even if Velvette had let him, but that was a problem for future Vox. 

Present Vox had bigger problems on his hands. Like a seizing Alastor, who he couldn't hurt even if he wanted to, and a very angry Velvette, who had started tapping her foot. Valentino had some Spanish phrase for that. "Cuando Vel da golpecitos con el pie, ese es el sonido de la bomba a punto de estallar- when Vel starts to tap her foot, that's the sound of the bomb getting ready to explode," That was the only Spanish he knew. 

Carelessly, he grabbed Alastor's free hand, and started tugging on it. Alastor didn't even react. What was he supposed to do here? Velvette wasn't saying anything. She needed to say something here. He cracked Alastor's knuckles- he didn't even realize that he had knuckles to crack. Still nothing. His gaze was blank, and he was chewing on nothing, apparently. 

"Why do you think I would know?" Velvette asked, finally making a move. She stepped closer to Vox, who was still desperately fiddling around with Alastor. "This, Vox, is why no one in their right mind would bring a demon, half in a seizure, through teleportation, to our tower. I doubt you even have a right mind at this point!" She wouldn't admit it, but she was getting a bit uneasy, seeing such a powerful overlord like this. 

The TV stepped away, leaving Velvette now holding Alastor's hand. She was a lot more gently than he was, trying to bring him back to her. He didn't seem to even notice her existence. "Hey, Alastor love, could you look at me?" He didn't look at her. It was like he was looking at the wall behind her, except he wasn't really looking at it. He was looking at nothing. "Alastor! Come on, snap out of this!"

"Do you really think that saying that's gonna do anything?" Vox asked incredulously- as if he wasn't trying an arguably even more stupid method just a few moments ago. He stepped up towards the deer, and slapped Alastor across his face, as hard as he could. With Velvette's glare, he raised his voice. "I'm trying to wake him up! I'm not just slapping him for fun! That stung me too, you know!"

"That's not gonna do anything! What's next, are you gonna try some magical spell?" She paused, tilting her head to the side for a moment. She wondered if she actually may have been onto something. "Actually, is there some sort of anti-epileptic potion or whatnot that I could give to him? Maybe that could bring him out of it?"

Vox shrugged as the woman turned to walk away. Out of the corner of her red eyes, she noticed Vox once again tugging on his arm. This was going to be a long evening. "Vox! What did I say? Stop that!" She groaned, approaching the pair. "Vox, you best listen to me, and you best listen to me clearly. You cannot hurt Alastor, just, leave your grubby hands off of him while I'm gone! Or else!" She huffed away again. 

"Looks like it's just me and you, old pal," Vox said, looking at him harder. It was weird seeing him like this. Maybe he didn't register it fully the other day, when he was practically being held hostage by him. He didn't care. He didn't care about Alastor. He couldn't care about Alastor, it was against every fiber of his being, and every cable of his body. But, this did all still bother him. Maybe he cared more than he wanted to admit. 

What did that Vagatha say to do again? Oh yes, time it. Time the seizure. Well, it was a little late for it now. Despite the fact that he always wore a watch, Vox never truly needed to look at it to tell the time- perks of being the TV Demon. He could always just tell. He estimated that it had probably been at least five minutes since they got here. He had started seizing practically upon arrival, and maybe a bit before that. 

At least he didn't appear to be in pain- Vox stopped himself. Why was he glad that Alastor wasn't in pain? It was because he didn't cause the seizure, Vox reasoned. He didn't want him suffering at the hands of a stupid condition, or a stupid angel, or anything else, other than him. His mouth was still chewing on air, and his eye had began to twitch. Was that normal? That hadn't happened the last time. 

It was a few more minutes of nothing, until Alastor's head turned a little bit, his eyes seemingly looking around, yet not focusing on anything in particular. Vox tapped his shoulder, but he didn't get a response from the deer. He was out of it still. He glanced down towards his shoes, before he took a step, followed by another. The TV grabbed onto his hand, trying to keep him from wandering off, but he seemed determined to walk away. 

Now Vox was definitely alarmed. "Could you please just hold still for a moment," Vox asked, his voice glitching. It wasn't like Alastor could hear him. He had picked up his uncoordinated pace a bit, leaving Vox sidestepping, trying to keep him contained. His attempts to hold him back were fruitless. This was way out of Vox's league. "Velvette!" He called, as loudly as he could. "Velvette! Please, Velvette!"

She ran back into the living room, her heels clicking on the floor as she entered in. "Shut up already! What is he doing, can you not watch over a man who is literally unconscious for more than two seconds?" She saw Vox, desperately trying to step in front of Alastor, keeping him from wandering away. Oh. So, the situation had worsened since she had tried- and failed- to find him medicine. Got it. 

"Please Vel, just call that Hotel or whatever, and just tell them to pick up their brat," he paused, feeling Alastor's red claws pull on his own bowtie for a moment, before quickly letting go. At least he wasn't being grabbed again. "We can't just wait for him to wake up, who knows how long that'll take? What if we can't wake him up? If he wakes up here, he's gonna eat me! You don't want your business partner eaten, now do you Velvette?"

"To be honest, I'm not opposed to that idea at the moment," Velvette smirked as she watched Vox frown deeply. Oh, he was so fun to annoy. It was weird to see him apparently caring about this Radio Demon, even if he didn't directly say so. She could see it on his face, and his rocking back and forth, fiddling with his fingers, and the two Vs tried to keep Alastor safe. At least Valentino wasn't home. 

The TV was prattling nervously, generally in the direction Alastor. He kept looking over at Velvette, too, who was still doing her best. The deer kept trying to grab at her hair, but she carefully redirected his hand each time. She didn't need him pulling what he did with Vox's wrist yesterday, with her hair. She worked hard to keep her curls right. "Vel," Vox said, "do you think he can hear us right now?"

Velvette shrugged. "Why? I bet you weren't planning on calling him any mean names, were you? You care about him, admit it Voxxie!" The TV's face glitched momentarily. Her attempts to get on his cables were working. "No, Velvette, I would be very happy to let you know that I could not care less about this smug loser," he stopped, noticing Alastor freezing, stiff arms locking on front of him, and neck turned up, staring at the ceiling. 

"What are you looking at?" Velvette asked rhetorically. She didn't expect him to answer. He bit his lip, pretty quickly drawing blood- those teeth were made for eating flesh, after all. Vox tried to push his arms down, but he was as stiff as a board. His hands were locked into a ball, and his knuckles were becoming a lighter grey. "Vox, how long has it been now, do you know?"

"No, like, maybe nine minutes? Evil below, you know the entirety of the Hotel is gonna kill us," he replied. He and Velvette noticed something else odd at the same time- his staggered breathing. 

"Can he not breathe?" Velvette pointing at the TV Demon, clearly telling him to check his breathing. He did as he was told, holding his hand near his mouth. He nodded back. 

Alastor's muscles seemed to relax again. His neck dropped a little, and his arms fell down to his side. He was fiddling with his coat. Now it was clear that his breathing for sure was fine, although he was mumbling something, and neither of them knew what. Velvette recognized it as French, and despite her knowing it enough- she needed to as a woman of fashion- she couldn't make out the words coming from his mouth. 

She tried to understand what he was saying, and maybe she got a word or two here and there, but it was all nonsensical. She was a cruel overlord, not someone who was supposed to care about someone else, especially her friend's enemy. But she was definitely nervous for him. She watched the blood drip from his lower lip. She summoned herself a tissue box, and carefully brought one to his face. 

Even though it had been obvious this whole time, it only now clicked to her that his face was still smiling. How? He wasn't reacting at all to her rubbing his face, and his stare was so empty. His eyes were unseeing. As she ran the tissue over his lips, she felt the stitches holding his smile in place. That made more sense. Vox would love that info. He would have to pay a pretty decent price to get it, though. 

His eyes seemed to be trying to focus, causing Velvette to step backwards. She did not want to be in front of his face for when he woke up. This was not her fault, but a confused Alastor might not care. Any Alastor might not care, actually. Vox stepped back, too, but Velvette pushed him at the Radio Demon. He was the one who caused this disaster. But Velvette couldn't tell if he was back or not. 

"Hey, Alastor, are you with us?" Velvette tried to stay out of Alastor's field of vision, watching him slowly blink, and rub his lips together, at the faint taste of blood. His eyes would momentarily drift, before returning into focus. He softly nodded his head, barely enough to notice. Velvette had to try to keep the peace. "Alright Alastor, love, do you know where you are at right now?"

"Love? Why did you just call him love, what is wrong with you?" Vox was incredulous. Velvette shushed him, flipping him off in the process. She was hoping for something out of Alastor. Even if he was awake- she couldn't tell for sure- he was out of it. He eventually shook his head no. It would make sense, she wasn't even sure if he had been there before. 

"Ok, that's alright, do you remember the Hotel?" Following another nod, she gently took his hand, bringing his attention down to her. "Alright, well, we're gonna get you back there, ok Alastor? You just gotta, hold on," she didn't want to mention Vox. Alastor hadn't even seemed to notice him. He wasn't looking like he was going to kill her, and she didn't want to tick him off. He looked nervous. 

Vox scoffed. "Vel, do you think you could just drive him over there real quick? Just because Mr. Freaky Face Smiling Freak is standing here acting like a wounded puppy, doesn't mean his girlfriend or all his little friends will. I don't feel like double dying today," Vox reached in his pocket, pulling out a set of keys, and holding them out towards Velvette, who was less than thrilled with him. 

Velvette couldn't believe her ears. After this whole predicament, after she had once again worked her tail off to keep that TV Demon safe, he wanted her to run him back? Not happening. "You made this bed, even after I told you not to. I ripped the covers off many times over. I laid down on the bed as to stop you from making it. Yet you still made it. So now, Vox, you get to lay in it."

The TV rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he groaned, grabbing Alastor's shoulder. "I know, just let me do it, so I can get you back to your little hotel and you can calm down," Alastor barely reacted. He only faintly nodded. "I hope this works, Velvette. He still looks out of it to me!" The electricity started shooting through him, and it made its way into Alastor. At the last second, he decided to grab onto Vel. She couldn't get away in time. 

Another surge hit the three of them, taking them all back to the Hotel's lobby. The tingling left their bodies through their feet, and as they opened their eyes, they were greeted by a stunned Vaggie, and behind her stood Angel and Rosie, both seemingly startled from their conversation. They all stared at the Vs and Alastor. Vox did that little cheesy wave and smile again, as he noticed Charlie running to enter the room. 

"Before any of you ask any questions, none of this my fault. Point your fingers at Vox, not at me," Velvette stated. Everyone seemed to believe her, their eyes slowly drifting over towards Vox, who had electricity coming out of his antennae. He took a step back. Alastor was still frozen in his place. He licked his lips, wiping the blood off of them. At least he recognized where he was. 

No one moved, besides Angel Dust placed his bottom set of hands on his hips. He had now turned to face the trio, his eyes narrowing at the TV Demon. He was about ready to throw a punch, or two, or three. First at Vox, and then probably at Velvette too. He didn't trust that she actually didn't have anything to do with this- he didn't trust any of these three losers. 

"Rosie?" Alastor mumbled out, feeling awareness returning to him, rapidly returning to him, almost too rapidly. He started to realize just who he was surrounded by. Vox was there. Why was Vox there? He took a step, and felt the shortest V- what was her name again- stepping away from him. And then, it all went black. Velvette jumped right back at him, catching his limp body before he hit the ground. 

Chapter Text

Velvette jumped towards him, grabbing hold of Alastor’s limp body, and trying to keep him from hitting the ground. She was in an odd position to be holding all of his weight, but was grabbing onto his shoulders, feeling his legs buckle underneath him. Vox continued to walk away, leaving Velvette on her own. She asked him for help, but he just flipped her off in return. 

Angel stepped in behind Velvette, taking hold of Alastor with all four of his arms, letting her step out. He gently lowered the deer to the ground, laying him on his back. Rosie was already kneeling there, waiting for Alastor, her petit faon, to be laid in front of her. Angel slipped his arms out from under him, once he was sure he was safely on the ground. 

She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. Her heart was racing, it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, and not in the way that she would usually enjoy. She placed two of her long, cold fingers on his wrist, feeling for a pulse. It felt steady. She could see the rise and fall of his chest. At least he was still dead, and not double dead. 

This was Hell. Something like a seizure couldn’t double kill someone- only angelic steel could do that. But it could still have bad effects on him. And who knew if, and how much, his wound from Adam was worsening this entire situation. Rosie didn’t mention that. She knew that it would freak everyone out even more. She had to keep herself calm, even if it was just to keep the others calm, too. 

"Alastor," she gently said, running her fingers through his hair. He felt so warm and sweaty. His ears were limp. She frowned deeply. At least he didn't appear to be seizing anymore, nor did he seem to be in any sort of pain. She noticed the holes poked into his lower lip. She jostled his shoulder as lightly as she could, in a way that he may still respond to. "Hey, Al, baby. Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Part of her wondered if she should just let him rest, but she needed to make sure he could at least regain consciousness first. Before she did anything else, she felt Charlie's hand on her back. She looked up to see the Princess hovering over the two of them. "Rosie, what- what's going on? Why did he do that?"

"I'm not sure yet, babe," Rosie couldn't lie about that. She couldn't come up with a good reason why he had fainted. She had never seen him do that before. "I'm hopin' it's just exhaustion. He's been seizin' a lot lately, prolly just gettin' the best of him," she looked up towards the Vs, who were both watching the scene. "Do either of you two know what's happenin'? Did you all do somethin'?"

Quickly, Velvette replied with a shake of the head. "I promise, I did nothing," she looked on a bit anxiously, really hoping that she hadn't accidentally done something to Alastor. She couldn't think of anything that she had done. She had been trying to keep him safe. She turned her head towards Vox, at the same moment as Rosie's eyes drifted over towards him. 

He backed up a step, waving his hands in front of him. He saw the expressions on the faces of both Velvette and Rosie. They both seemed suspicious of his innocence. Velvette raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly glaring into his soul. "Vel, you were there the whole time! I didn't lay a finger on him!" 

"You slapped him, you fool, do you remember that?" Everyone's eyes widened at her words. "You said you were just trying to wake him up. Maybe that's the truth, who knows. All I know, is that I am going to slap your little screen, here in front of everyone, in just a moment if you don't fess up something. You did something, I can read you like a book."

"Fine, you know what, fine! I didn't do anything, but I may know kinda what is happening," Vox winced, like he was expecting someone to tackle him. "I promise, I didn't know he had seizures until the whole situation yesterday, but uh, he's the Radio Demon, right? I'm the TV Demon. He teleports through shadows, I teleport through electricity. He's always hated teleporting with me because it exhausts him so much."

Rosie's eyes widened. "Oh," she had to take another deep breath to calm down, but not out anxiety over Alastor. She felt like she was about ready to snap every single cable in his neck. Alastor was still unconscious in front of her- she couldn’t fight Vox right now. She has bigger issues at hand. But that didn’t make her feel any better towards that TV idiot. 

"Let me be clear here! He's never just gone off and fainted after I did that! How was I supposed to know?" Vox pushed a palm towards Alastor and Rosie. 

The woman growled. "I will deal with you later. The only advice I have for you, is that you should find a brain settled in your mess of cables somewhere," Velvette had a hard time containing her laughter. 

"Oh, mon cher garçon," Rosie returned to Alastor, gently rubbing his flushed cheek with her knuckles. She rubbed small circles on his cheekbone. She didn't want to be too forceful. She was about to ask Charlie or Angel if they could grab her a wet towel, but she began to feel the deer's breathing hitch, like a hiccup underneath her. 

She carefully opened one of his eyelids, and saw his eye twitching from some to side. Charlie looked on nervously- she looked like she was about to become ill. "Baby, please don't start seizin' again," she encouraged. She wasn't sure if he could hear her, but it was worth a shot. Maybe he could hear her, since his breathing slowed back to normal, and his eyes rolled up again. 

Alastor was still for a few more moments. Rosie gently shook his shoulder again, and as she did so, his eyes slowly opened. He was looking directly at Rosie, but his eyes couldn't focus on her. His smile grew, recognizing the woman who was kneeled in front of him. "Rosie," he said breathlessly, "I'm so tired. It won't stop."

"I got you baby, you're doin' so good, you're comin' back now," she muttered. His eyes seemed to meet with hers more, as he yawned and stretched his arms out above his head. Rosie was pretty confident that he was awake now, even if a bit dazed. "There you go. I think it's done baby, I think you're back with me. Do you know where you're at right now, hun?" 

His nod made her relax even more. He rolled his head to the side, moaning as he did so. His eyes widened at who he saw. "Why is Vox and, uh, Velvette, here?" He turned his head back towards Rosie so fast, that he got dizzy. He grabbed his head, groaning. "How long was I out for? What even happened?" 

"Look, I had to come and check on you after the incident yesterday," Vox stepped closer to him, but Velvette held an arm out, forcing him to stay back. "I really wanted to make sure you weren't gonna double die on me! I wanna be the only one to double kill you. So I came here, and I saw you, and I tried to call Vel for help."

"That isn't at all what happened," Velvette looked Rosie in the eyes. She wasn't entirely sure why she was doing this. "Vox came to- well, he had bad intentions," she didn't want to reveal how they came for the staff. She still wanted it. There had to still be a way. "Alastor was half awake, and he teleported him, accidentally may I add, to our tower. He seized there, and we couldn't teleport him back until it was over."

"Very well then," Rosie glared at both of them. She wasn't entirely sure that she trusted Velvette, but she trusted her more than Vox. The TV Demon seemed less than thrilled about Velvette outing his secret plans, even if not in full. She was the one who so desperately seemed to want the staff. He felt steam once again rising from his antennae. 

"You seriously kidnapped me?" Alastor asked. His words were a bit more clear. He finally let himself relax, knowing that the seizure had passed. He no longer felt like he was gripping onto consciousness with every ounce of him. He wanted to sleep, but he could at least keep himself awake. "You- Vox, I swear, you are done for, you salope de merde et baiseur!" 

Rosie was taken back by Alastor's language. She brought her fingers to her lips, and chuckled. She stopped when she saw Alastor attempting to sit himself up, but she quickly grabbed him, keeping him on the ground. He didn't seem very thrilled with the gesture, but she didn't trust him to not just slump backwards, and hit his head on the Hotel's floor. Angel extended a pair of arms behind him, just in case. 

Niffty came up from behind her, ready to explain that she hadn't found Alastor in his tower, or in his room, but nearly squealed when she noticed the deer laying on the ground. Before she had the chance to ask too many questions, Rosie asked her to go and grab a glass of water for Alastor, and maybe a light snack. He needed something at this point. 

"Wait, didn't our dear Charlotte ask me to sit with her height challenged father?" Alastor asked, some of the memories of the day slowly returning to him. He remembered being told to sit with Lucifer, and vaguely remembered chatting with him at one point. After that, the next thing he remembered was waking up on the floor, with Rosie over him. 

"He got drunk," Charlie explained, avoiding eye contact with Alastor. "He kinda sorta maybe left you at the bar, and then that's where Vox came in. Rosie was gonna go get your staff, that's why we were throwing a little party for you in the first place. The bad news, the staff wasn't ready. The good news is she has something else magical for you! It should work just as well!"

Alastor didn't remember a party. It made sense, considering he remembered the lobby being full when he was instructed to spend time with the King. His heart sank as he replayed Charlie's words, that his staff wasn't ready. He was worried that Rosie's other magical solution would be some sort of medication- he wouldn't be doing that, but nobody needed to know that. He could surely wait another day or two for his staff to be back. 

It wasn't like things could get much worse. Velvette and Vox knew. Vox knowing was his absolute fear, and since that dumb TV was stupid enough to invade his space the day prior, he got to learn about the seizures. Definitely didn't help that he got kidnapped, even if it was an accident. He would punch him in his screen right now, if he had the strength in him to even stand. Seizures were exhausting. At least it was over.

Lucky for him, Rosie could all but read his mind. She saw the anger bubbling up in his face. She nodded, giving him a gentle pat on the had. "My dear, I'll be right back. I think I may have some matters to care for," everyone watched her stand, her toothy smile growing wider. She made her way over to Vox, and slapped him right across the screen, and hard.

"Now that was uncalled for!" He yelled, swinging his arm back like he was going to hit Rosie back, but he decided against it. "This whole thing was a big accident, ok?" As he said that, he got slapped a second time, this time by Rosie's other hand. Velvette lost it next to him, gasping for air through her fit of laughter. 

She wasn't out of the clear, either. The cannibal walked towards her, bending down to be at her level. "And you, Velvette, you better be careful from here, you understand me?" Velvette nodded as Rosie walked away, brushing her hands off each other. "Wonderful! I'm glad we've got all that sorted out!" Alastor smiled at her. They truly were so similar. 

"Well I think that's enough for you two little demons for the night," Rosie was back to smiling again. It was almost uncanny how quickly she flipped on them. "Now, Alastor my dear, what do you think? I think we should probably get you off to bed, huh?" She slid her arms under him, picking him up like he was weightless. Everyone knew he was thin, but maybe not so much so. 

The deer wrapped his arms around her neck. He was embarrassed. He was absolutely mortified. But there was no fighting with Rosie. When she wanted to take care of someone, she would. "Cheers, my friends!" She called out, walking down the hall with Alastor cuddled up in her arms. "I will see you all in the mornin'! Besides the two delinquents, of course!"

A loud, maniacal laugh caused her- and everyone- to freeze. Niffty came darting out of the kitchen, not with the water that she had been sent off for, but with a knife. At least it wasn't an angelic one. She ran with it pointed out, causing everyone to flee. That included Vox, the man whom she was targeting. Rosie continued to walk away, laughing as Vox and Velvette scrambled for the door.

Her walk was steady, and once she was sure she was out of everyone's earshot, she began to sing to him her favorite song to sing. It was her song for her petit faon. She felt so awful about the day's events. She should have been more careful of him, and watched over him better. She should have made sure the staff was ready. At least he would have medicine tomorrow. 

Arriving in his room, she carefully set him down, wrapping him up in blankets. "Repose-toi bien, Alastor, rest well," she encouraged, as she tucked him in, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. She loved seeing him smile so genuinely after that. He closed his eyes the second his head hit the pillow. 

Alastor nodded. "Thank you, my dear, merci," he responded. He didn't even finish his sentence before he was drifting off to sleep, letting the darkness of the night overtake him. He knew that he probably wouldn't remember much of the night come tomorrow. But at least it seemed like Vox was finally gone. Hopefully his staff would be ready, sooner rather than later. 

Rosie sat down in his plush red armchair, next to his bed. She carefully spun the dial on his radio, letting a soothing jazz song play. With a snap of her fingers, she summoned a glass of water- it wasn't as fresh as it would be from the kitchen, if Niffty would have gotten it, but it was good enough. She placed it on his bedside table before reclining back in the chair once more. 

She let her eyes close to the soft sound of jazz, finally being able to take a good breath. She didn't have the staff, but at least she had some medicine to give him. She would have to sneak it in his food, but it was going to help. Once she was positive that Alastor was sleeping, and quite peacefully so, much to her joy, she fell asleep herself, glad that her sweet Alastor was on the mend.

Chapter Text

Rosie awoke to the sounds of the blankets shuffling in front of her. She opened her eyes, worried about what state she was going to find her dear Alastor in. She was pleased to see that he was just sitting up in bed, beginning his day with a stretch. She looked at the old grandfather clock beside her. It was later than he usually got up. She was glad- he definitely needed the rest. 

He didn't seem to notice that she was awake, brushing down his messed up hair with his claws. He spun his neck around, cracking it in the process. Rosie only wished that she could do that. There were still dark bags under his eyes, but he did look much more rested than before. He looked over, peering at the clock, squinting his eyes to see without his monocle. That's when he noticed that Rosie was awake, and smiling at him. 

Alastor smiled a warm smile right back to her, Hell's morning sun catching his eye. "Good morning, my dearest," he said, his voice cracked from his dry throat. "You know that you were under no obligation to stay the night. I hope it wasn't troubling to you. My dear, you should know that I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

She rolled her eyes and nodded, waving his concerns away. "Babe, who says I didn't want to? I need some time away from that Emporium, those cannibals sometimes get on my nerves," she stood up, stretching herself as she did so, and sat down on the bed next to Alastor. She reached for his hand, which he gladly excepted. "How are you doin' today, mon amour? Feelin' better than last night?"

The deer shrugged. "I guess so," he mumbled, pushing himself towards the edge of his bed. He wasn't going to waste away here. "I will be honest with you my dear, I don't have much recollection of what happened. I know that the petit roi left me for dead and that salope of an overlord somehow got me to his childish display of a tower, but that is about all that I have got."

Gently, Rosie helped Alastor rise to his feet. She relaxed at seeing how easily he stood, and how coordinated he seemed. That night of rest did him wonders- go figure. She leaned into him, to give him a light kiss on the cheek. "Alastor, you still gotta take it easy darlin'! You're still not at full health! I don't want you outta my sight today still babe, after what happened."

What Rosie didn't tell him was that he would be pretty close to full health today. He didn't have his staff- she also declined to mention that it was supposed to be ready yesterday, but it would be best for him to not know that if he didn't remember it- but she did have medicine for him. They weren't just any medicines, they were little pills of magic. 

It was difficult to learn that the medical demons in Cannibal Town were having a hard time repairing the staff. They had come up with healing magic, but were having a hard time getting it into the staff, which had been damaged by angelic energy. They had offered to get him a new one, but this was Alastor. He didn't handle change very well. The staff was a comfort item, as much as it was anything else. 

These pills would hold him over. The medical demons knew the proper dosages of the magic. If he took one a day, and tried to keep it at the same time, he should be seizure free. She would slide the pill in his morning venison- she knew how he scarfed those down. He would be none the wiser. He wouldn't take any sort of medicine otherwise, even though it was the same exact magic that was in his staff. He drove her crazy sometimes.

After a moment, she spun around, holding her hands over her eyes. With his full magical capabilities, he could change with just a snap of the fingers, but right now, he couldn't. He trusted her not to look. When he was done, she peeked back at him. Wearing the same exact clothes as last night, just a fresher version of them. He had several pairs of the same outfit. She snapped, changing herself. 

"Why, do you think we should go prepare breakfast?" He asked, taking her hand in his, while he adjusted his monocle. "I do not want to keep our company waiting," he held the door open for her, and she curtseyed as she strode out. They rejoined their hands in the hall, walking together towards the kitchen. They were both pleasantly surprised that it was empty. 

At least, it was for a little while. As Alastor pulled some pans out, and Rosie gathered the ingredients for some French Toast, Charlie peeked her head around the corner. The princess smiled at the pair, but cowered back when she noticed that Rosie saw her. That wasn't supposed to happen. "Well, look who's here so bright and early!" Rosie teased. "Come on over, we could always use an extra set of hands in the kitchen!"

"No, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything," Charlie apologized, pulling her lips tight. “I can just get back to bed, pretend I never as here!” Her eyes met Alastor’s, who was giving her some sort of smile- what else was new- but she couldn't read it. She thought it looked inviting. Maybe. "I could just sit here, and not bug you guys, if that's what you want."

Alastor nodded. He knew that Charlie was probably trying to keep an eye on him, even if Rosie had it all under control. She picked up some hardcover book, and began thumbing through it, even if she was seemingly not paying attention to the words on the pages. He couldn't help but notice how her eyes kept drifting upwards to him. It was getting unnerving. "Charlotte, there is no reason to preoccupy yourself over me. I am fine."

He returned to his pan, beginning to place the pieces of toast into the oil. Rosie worked at chopping fruits to his side. As he said those words, a lightbulb seemed to go off in Rosie's mind, as she turned around and headed towards the refrigerator. She reached in, pulling out a little cube, wrapped in paper, with a tag on it, that mentioned Rosie's name. 

Bile began to rise in Charlie's throat. She wasn't positive what it was, but she had a good idea. Rosie unwrapped it, the meat still bright red. Charlie had to look away to stop herself from gagging. It was completely raw, and who knows where- or who- in Hell it came from. Rosie laid it down, in front of Charlie, but fortunate on a separate cutting board from the fruit. 

"Of course you're gonna be fine, Al!" Rosie encouraged. She checked back behind her to make sure Alastor was still fully engrossed in his toast. When she was sure that he was, she snapped her fingers, summoning the medicine that she had gotten for him. She unscrewed the cap as Charlie cocked her head, confused. She just winked in reply. "We're on the upside here, dearest!"

She buried the long, black capsule in the red meat. Charlie realized that it was thankfully venison, or at least she hoped. That still wouldn't make its rawness any better, either. Rosie squeezed the top of it back together, trying to hide her work from her friend. Charlie watched Rosie walk back over to Alastor, and tap his shoulder, a smile on her face. 

"Here you go, my love," she said, holding the meat up to his mouth. He grinned at her action, taking it from her hand and quickly popping it in his mouth. Charlie felt even more ill now, watching Alastor chewing away at the meat. She excused herself- she needed to get the sight out of her mind, and to do that, she had to leave the kitchen. 

The deer laughed at Charlie's palette. "She can't even stomach seeing me eat venison, they're not sinners, you know" he joked, "but she probably thought it was something else. I wouldn't blame her!" As he said the words, he felt something weird in his meat. It tasted awful. He had to work hard to avoid making a face. Rosie never messed up food, especially raw venison. And he couldn't spit out her handiwork in front of her. 

"I must go grab some more cinnamon," he said, feeling something weird, like steam, coming from the substance in his mouth. That wasn't meat. It was something gelatinous. He entered into the pantry, pulling his handkerchief to his mouth, and spitting out the capsule. He knew exactly what it was upon looking at it. She had given him some magic. Oh, Rosalind. She didn't have to worry like that. 

Rolling his eyes, Alastor buried the pill deep into his pocket, not wanting it to fall out. He didn't need to rely on something as trivial as a pill with magic in it. Once he got his staff back, well, that would be a convenience. He was the great Radio Demon- it was quite silly and embarrassing that he was allowing himself to slip into such a state. But he was hoping the staff would be ready soon. 

"Pardon that, dearest," he muttered as he returned to the kitchen. Rosie blew him a small kiss, from her spot where she was watching the pan. "Something was off about the cinnamon that we had out, thanks for watching the toast for me," it was almost instinctive, how he reached out to rub the velvet of her hat. It had always enamored him. His smile grew as he felt it on his claws. 

Rosie loved when he did things like that. He had always loved playing her her hat, and her dress, and just about anything else he could get his fingers on. She giggled as she thought of a way to make him even happier than he was feeling. After turning off the stovetop, she waltzed away to the old radio in the kitchen- Alastor had insisted on having a few around the Hotel. She tinkered with it for a moment, before a gentle tune began to play. 

A happy static sound came from Alastor as he recognized the song. The jazz sounds made his ears perk up excitedly. He couldn't help himself but to sway to the tune, reaching out to take Rosie's hand. She grabbed gladly, pulling him closer to her, as he spun her around. Oh, how they loved dancing. It reminded them both of better times. 

"Merci, thank you," Alastor said as the song ended. "A dance with my favorite demon in all of Hell is always a welcome one!" Rosie restarted the song before she replied.

"Of course my dear, why, thank you. You looked at a lady who was jealous of all her friends and you gave her the most perfect little fils, a son of my own," as she finished, they started dancing again.

Charlie decided that she could probably face Alastor again. She hoped he didn't have any blood on his teeth or anything. She swallowed hard as she entered the kitchen, expecting to see Rosie and Alastor finishing up their cooking, but instead, was greeted with them spinning around the kitchen, singing some song in French. She knew enough Spanish to get by, but she didn't know any French. "Hey, is everyone ok?"

She regretted asking that. Both Alastor and Rosie froze, faces suddenly darting towards her. A loud, staticky screech came from Alastor, even though the music was still coming softly from the radio. Rosie was the first to break the silence, turning her lips into a smile once more. "Charlie darlin'! Come on in, we're havin' a little dance party as we finish up breakfast, and then we'll be off!"

"Alright," Charlie said, entering the kitchen with caution. Alastor had started pouring a mixture of bananas, walnuts, and whatever else went into the bananas foster for the French Toast. He was still humming the same tune that was playing on the radio. "Look, I'm so sorry about last night," she began. She knew she shouldn't have trusted her dad with Alastor. But then again, she didn't think he'd get drunk, either. 

"My darlin', there's no reason to apologize!" Rosie spun Charlie around, so that she was facing her. "I swear you've grown since the last time we properly talked. Anyways, there's no reason for you to be sorry! I'm gonna have to give that old man of yours a little talk, but it's not at all your fault," she trailed off as she noticed Alastor's ears drooping. He was probably still embarrassed about last night. Thankfully, Rosie knew just what to do. 

The woman returned to the radio, mashing a few buttons, until a new song started playing. Alastor practically started bouncing up and down, his ears flicking around excitedly. He joined in singing it with her, twirling her around once again. Charlie couldn't help but smile as he sang. "On n'est jamais complètement habillé sans un sourire!" Charlie was about to speak, but he cut her off. "I wonder if that one was lost to time."

With a wave, Rosie returned to Charlie once more. "Did Al ever tell you the story with that? We used to dance away, for hours and hours and hours! That's his all time favorite, let me tell you. It fits him so well! I mean, when was the last time you saw Alastor without that little cheeky grin on his beau visage, huh? He means more to me than all seven rings combined!" 

Something pulled at Charlie's heart. It hurt her a little bit, seeing Rosie and Alastor like this. It was almost motherly. Charlie missed when her mom would- no, now was not the time. She shrugged her thoughts off, and watched as Rosie went to help Alastor finish preparing their breakfast. She snapped her fingers, some flowers, albeit dead, from Cannibal Town appearing. She put one in Alastor's pocket, which made him smile.

Rosie grabbed a cup of brown sugar, and began to sprinkle it over the French Toast. She looked up at Alastor, smiling as she met his face. He looked like he was reminiscing- and Rosie, she looked just so proud. She gently rubbed his cheek, and gave him a small kiss. He reached out for her hat, happy static coming from him at its feeling. She pulled out two paper plates from the cabinet, and gave them each some food. 

"Now, I think we must be on our way," Rosie said, taking a bite out of her breakfast. "Alastor, darlin', this is amazin'! You know I don't usually like to each stuff without the real good stuff in there, but this is delicious! Anyways, Charlie, we'll be back quite soon. We've got an overlords meetin' to get to. Shouldn't be long, half of them aren't comin in!"

"Are you sure that Alastor is gonna be alright through all of this?" Charlie slowed her words as she motioned vaguely towards Rosie. "I don't think that it would be good at all if Alastor had one of his- if something happened at the meeting, you know?" She watched Alastor's eyes narrow. He didn't seem to like her remark. 

"Sweetheart, Alastor's gonna be fine!" Rosie winked at Charlie again, "I am more than sure of it! Besides, like I said, most of those losers aren't even comin' in anyways today. What's the worst that could happen. But nothin' will happen. I've got him, Charlie," she gave the princess a curtsey, before picking up her plate. "Come on Al, we don't wanna be late, now do we?"

Charlie wasn't sure why, but something wasn't sitting with her right. She knew he had his medicines, but still. What if they didn't work? Vaggie had mentioned that medicines didn't always work. These were magic pills, though, not normal medicines. Magic would have to work, right? She was overthinking it. "Ok, have fun, I guess?"

"Well, ta-ta my dear!" Alastor said, grabbing his plate as well. "Rosie and I should be back before lunch! Go get all your friends before the food gets cold!" Charlie watched as he held the door open for her, before leaving with Rosie. She couldn't shake her nerves, but Rosie was right. Nothing would happen. She hoped.

Chapter Text

The overlords meeting was long and, quite frankly, boring. Rosie was more than ready to head out- most of the other overlords already had- but Carmilla and Velvette were still arguing about something trivial. She figured that she should at least pay some attention to them, even if it didn't seem to concern her much. They had long since moved on from the angel conversation. 

Now, these two just got into spats solely for the sake of arguing. Their arguing had already driven out everyone besides Zestial, Rosie, and Alastor, as well as Carmilla's two daughters, Clara and Odette. Zestial was mostly there to keep everyone else in check. He was, unofficially, the head of the meetings. Clara and Odette didn't want to leave their mom, even if they wouldn't get involved in her debate. And Rosie and Alastor, well. 

Rosie was stuck. Especially today. She usually stuck around as long as Alastor was there, but especially now. Sure, she had given him his magical medicines, and he shouldn't be having any seizures, but she figured that it would be best to stay. Just in case. If she were to leave, and if something were to happen, like if the medicines hadn't kicked in yet, that would be a disaster. 

Sure, Velvette now knew- thankfully she was there, and not Valentino or Vox. But Rosie still didn't trust her whatsoever. She could read people well, and she knew that there was something else brewing in that demon's head. She wasn't being kind to Alastor for the sake of being kind. Best case scenario, the enemy of one's enemy is their friend, and both she and Rosie were both united in frustration with Vox. 

Unfortunately, she couldn't get away from the meeting. Alastor was nothing if he wasn't stubborn. He always wanted the last word in any meeting he was a part of, even if he had absolutely nothing to contribute to the conversation. She wished that he would just grow up and get past that. What was he going to say here anyways? Some sort of dumb pun, probably. Rosie cursed his stubbornness. 

At least he was doing ok so far. He showed no signs of anything being off. Rosie kept trying to sneak a touch to him- he didn't let her touch him in meetings, usually- but he kept dodging it. She wanted to see if she could get a sense of the healing magic working yet. She could typically get a feel for someone's magic through touching them. She had a lot of abilities that most demons, including Alastor, didn't even know about. 

It was obvious why he wasn't practically zapping with magic like he used to be. Even with the medicines, they didn't restore all of his powers. It was just healing magic. It probably didn't even get him up to his normal healing magic level, let alone everything else. She was told by the medical demons to not worry if she couldn't feel his magic, since the pills worked differently than regular magic, but she still wanted to get a feel of it all. 

Alastor was doodling in his notebook, just as he usually did during these long, boring arguments. Such things were bound to happen at each and every overlords meeting. She couldn't help but laugh at his little doodle of Vox in the corner of his page, disparaging words and arrows surrounding the TV. Oh, those two were too similar, too similar for their own goods. 

Everyone knew that Alastor was still very much listening, however, judging by the twitching in his ears. Those were his receptors, reacting to every word spoken and emotion shared. He always tried to keep them still, but he couldn't help himself. Rosie always found it endearing, even if she never said that to him. He probably wouldn't be very thrilled about that assessment. 

Right now, it was also a good indicator of Alastor's awareness level. She learned this back before he even got his healing magic in the first place. He could say that he was fine all that he wanted to, but if his twitching was slowing or even had stopped, it usually was a tell that a seizure was coming. They would usually start to twitch again as he came out of it, letting her know that it was getting better. 

"You, Velvette, are embarrassing yourself, señorita," Carmilla sneered, rising from her chair once more. She slapped her hand on the table, pounding it loud enough that it shook for a moment. Both Clara and Odette's eyes narrowed towards Velvette, behaving as they usually did. They were silent, but their stares said it all. Rosie started listening more intently, this was getting good. 

"Oh, please," Velvette laughed, reclining in her chair and kicking her legs up on the table, "your old skeleton would probably be dead if it weren't for me. Those exterminators probably had your name on a hit list. I shoulda let you double die and learn your lesson, but I sacrificed my pleasure for the rest of Hell. Good job, Velvette!" Her tone was mocking, only angering Carmilla more. 

"Mine ladies, please, never hast such rage!" Zestial cautioned, gently reaching out to grab Carmilla's hand. "Thou unbend, mine dear, there is no reason to worry about such a woman. She shall learn to respect her elders eventually," ever the voice of reason, he glared at Velvette. He wasn't pleased with her smirk in return, but he took a deep breath, to keep himself calm. 

Velvette laughed, unwrapped a sucker from her pocket as she did so. She popped it in her mouth, making as loud of sucking noises as she possibly could. Carmilla's eyebrows furrowed, letting out a low growl at her. Velvette didn't care. She was getting everything that she wanted. She loved seeing Carmilla's rage building, looking about ready to bubble over. 

Carmilla huffed. "Whatever, I don't have the time in my schedule to worry about a child in a woman's body," she stood up straight, turning back towards her charts. "What else is new, we got nothing done. Next meeting, Velvette, I think you should invite your little friends. Maybe they're more mature than you. Anyways, let's get onto our closing notes, should we not? Attention, please."

The entire room, even Velvette, watched as she shuffled through her papers, ready to say a final few lines. Velvette knew that this was her one shot to get some details on the next meeting. There would be nothing more embarrassing than not being there on the right day, although she did like to show up fashionably late. She would wait until Carmilla was just about done, before she would enter and give her monologue. 

Rosie looked up at the overlord at the front of the room, giving her full attention. Well, most of her attention. Something was tugging at her about Alastor. She kept flashing quick glances at him, noticing his ears twitching much less than they used to. No, he had his medicines. She had given him his medicines. These weren't just any medicines, they were healing magic. They would work. "Hey Al, are you ok?"

Her whisper snapped Alastor away from his doodling. He looked down, seeing her through the tops of his eyes. "Why, yes dearest, I am fine. Now, maybe we should be quiet so that we do not get called on our violations," he looked back up towards Carmilla, smiling even wider than before, feigning attention. He really couldn't care less about what she was saying. Rosie had ways of getting the date of the next one, anyways.

He was lying. Rosie knew that he was lying. Alastor didn't look fine. Despite Carmilla's agressive speech, his ears had all but entirely stopped twitching, beginning to droop against his head. He rested his head in his hand, his elbow on the table. He was trying to look careless, but that was what he also did when he had a headache- an impending seizure. "Al, babe, no. If you're gonna need to, you know, we should get goin'."

"I'm fine, my dear. I'm tired of all of this meaningless talk, sure, but other than that, I am beyond well," she saw his eyes widen, as he pulled his head off of his arm. placing both hands in his lap. That was his dizzy face. Those eyes, those were his dizzy eyes. Rosie felt her dead heart skip a beat. He was going to go into a seizure. Had the pills not worked? She froze, her own eyes widening, as something occurred to her. 

Cinnamon. Alastor had insisted on going into the pantry, to get better cinnamon. She saw nothing wrong with the cinnamon that they had, but she would never dare to question Alastor's cooking abilities. Wasn't there another bottle of cinnamon in the cupboard above her? That sneaky little fool. She loved him more than anything, but sometimes, she wanted to just pop him in the head. She knew that he skipped out on his pill. 

She watched as his hand began to search around in his pocket, trying to find something- his pill. He was looking for his pill. He really thought she wouldn't notice? She noticed a growing look of angst spreading over his face. Even if he could find the pill, she wasn't sure if it would do enough, at this point, to stop the seizure from happening. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, and he froze. This wasn't good.

"Alastor, babe," she said, gently reaching out to rub his shoulder. He was letting her touch him during a meeting. He was gone. She hooked his rolling chair with her foot, dragging it towards her a bit. At least it wasn't overly obvious that something was wrong- at first. He looked back at her, his eyes hazy. His shoulders locked, pressed backwards. He was practically falling back into her. Well, you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. 

"Do you have something that you would like to discuss, Rosalind?" Carmilla asked, looking over towards Rosie. Alastor was practically in her arms now. His eyes were rhythmically blinking, and his hand grasped at her skirt, but other than that, he was frozen. Carmilla grimaced, realizing how her words sounded. She respected Rosie, and Rosie respected her. Velvette had worn down her wick. 

"Carmilla, no one has interrupted the meeting besides you," Rosie's smile grew, knowing that she probably should not have gotten so touchy, but she had bigger things to worry about than an angry Carmilla.

Velvette looked over to where Rosie was sitting, and how she was holding Alastor in her arms. "Again?" She mouthed, and Rosie replied back with a nod. She grimaced. Why was she caring?

The leader of the meeting squinted at Rosie and Alastor. "Could you two not show such displays of affection at a meeting, or tell me what is wrong so that we know what is warranting such interactions," she took a deep breath. She definitely had an order that she wanted kept while she stood up there, especially during her closing notes. "It has drawn enough attention that it seems that our meeting is on pause."

"It appears as though Alastor is unwell," Zestial commented. Rosie rolled her eyes at that one. Of course he appeared unwell. He was unwell. She had been watching the clock in the meeting room, it was only now just about going on a minute. The length wasn't bad- yet- but this was still a really bad situation. This was originally supposed to be something only she knew. Now, Carmilla and Zestial were on the growing list of people in the know. 

"You don't say," Carmilla deadpanned, walking past the spider. She stood over Alastor and Rosie, a little surprised that the cannibal hadn't even looked up at her. She kept changing her focus between Alastor, and the clock. "Did he faint? Does he need some sort of medical attention?" She reached down to touch his back, but Rosie swatted her large hand away. No one needed to be touching him. 

"Well, it seems as if he didst," Zestial added. He was now on the other side of Rosie and Alastor, and flanked by Carmilla's daughters. "Must we summon some assistance for him? Carmilla, I shall keep hither with him, and thou may get some assistance. It is not good for someone as powerful as Alastor to faint in the midst of such a meeting," he stepped back. At least someone was respecting their space. 

"Wow, you don't say!" Velvette spun around in her chair, tossing her now clean sucker stick on the ground in front of her. She came closer to the situation, pushing Clara right out of the way, and now she, too was looking down at Alastor. "Of course it's not good when someone faints, go figure! I'm surprised you remembered that! But I am more than sure that Alastor can figure himself out without the help of geriatric patients."

Rosie was a bit stunned. What was that all about? She felt Alastor groan in her lap. She needed to get him out of here before he woke up fully. It least it had only been about two minutes. But he would not be very happy if he were to come to, once again surrounded by people. That could trigger a panic attack. That would arguably be worse for them all to see. Carmilla's voice distracted her. "Velvette, I don't think you should be involved in this!"

Zestial looked down at Alastor, whose eyes were now shut. He was trying to push himself up. "Carmilla, I believe that Alastor is waking up," he said, pointing a long finger at the deer. "Haply it would be best, for us all, to allow him to rest, if he so needs. We want never the rest of Hell to know if overlord is ill. There would be a ranker chance that they would attempt to attack."

She sighed. "Fine, whatever. But only because Zestial said it," she locked her gaze with a smug Velvette, whose arms were crossed on her chest. "I don't care what you have to say, puta. Zestial and his opinions deserve respect, so I am showing him that. Maybe you could take a lesson from me. Odette, Clara, vamos mijas. This meeting is dismissed," followed by her daughters, she headed towards the door. 

Briefly, once her daughters had left, she peeked her head back in the meeting room. "And I sincerely hope that all is well with Alastor. Please, Rosie, do not hesitate to contact me if either of you need anything," Zestial followed her outside, leaving Rosie, with Alastor in her arms, and Velvette remaining. Velvette still had that smug look on her face, albeit that it had softened a bit. 

Alastor seemed to be waking up fully, leaving Rosie and Velvette silent for a moment, waiting to see what he did. He sat up, his eyes still glazed over with dizziness, although looking much more aware of his surroundings. His ears twitched, allowing Rosie to take a deep breath. A look of horror began to creep onto his face as he realized exactly where he was. "Did- are we in the meeting room?"

The cannibal nodded, flinching as Alastor suddenly pulled back, placing his head in his hand. He rubbed his temples and moaned. "Yea, it did sweetheart. It's ok, I didn't tell anyone what was goin' on. They thought you just fainted or somethin'. You're not gonna be happy about that response either, but oh well. It was only about two minutes. Everyone's gone now, except for, uh, you remember Velvette?"

He turned his head to look at her, but closed his eyes again. He head was throbbing. "You say it was only two minutes, dearest? I feel the worst that I have in ages," he stopped, catching his breath. He hadn't even realized that the pain was causing him to hold one in. "My head, it's my head, dear. But I will be right as rain soon. Please tell Vox's boss that she is no longer welcomed to stay here."

Velvette couldn't help but smile at that comment. Sure, he probably didn't actually mean it- if there was one thing that she had learned these past few days, it was that, no matter how dazed Alastor was, he always seemed to have some jab to throw at the TV Demon. "I think it's wearin' on you, babe," Rosie began. She slowly looked up towards where Velvette was standing. "And, uh, thank you, I guess."

"Yeah," Velvette replied, sitting on the table behind Alastor. "It's better than dealing with those fossils and their games, right?" She panicked for a second, realizing that she actually didn't know how old Rosie was. Whatever. She wasn't here to get on her good side. She was here to get on Carmilla's bad side. It seemed like she had done a good job with that today. 

But on the other hand, being on Rosie's good side probably wasn't exactly a bad thing, either. She hated to admit it, but she was a pretty powerful overlord. What she hated even more, was how much Vox wanted at Alastor. Maybe she could weasel her way close enough to them, and use that as a tactic to get whatever she wanted out of her stupid TV partner, or give him the chance to get at Alastor, and he would owe her big time. 

Whatever. She could think about that all later, even though she wanted to think about it now, to push away that weird feeling of concern she had for Alastor. Why did she care about that loser? She didn't hate him like Vox, but he was still another major hurdle in her way. She wanted that staff. That's what she could think about. Get close enough to them, and get the staff. But that didn't make her stop feeling worried for him. 

"Well, laters!" Velvette said, breaking the awkward silence, as she jumped down off the table. "Feel better Alastor, ok? Cheerio!" She cringed as she closed the door behind her. What had gotten into her? Even if she was trying to be nice, which she wasn't exactly doing, why would she say something like that? This was all getting in her head. Vox was getting in her head. 

Once she left, Rosie wrapped her arms tightly around Alastor once more. He accepted the embrace, even if he didn't want to. She rocked hm slowly, glad to see that he didn't seem too upset. "I know what you did," she whispered, stroking his ears down. "Al, baby, you need to take the medicines. We can't have this keep hapenin'," she sighed, "are you ready to get goin'?"

Alastor nodded. "Yeah, thanks," he mumbled. "Rosie, when will my staff be ready? Could you check when we get back?" Rosie nodded, pulling him closer. He loved her embrace. He closed his eyes, trying to push the pain out of his head, out from behind his eyes. With a snap of Rosie's fingers, he felt a sudden warmth engulf him, and the flames swallowed them both, as Rosie teleported him to the Hotel.

Chapter Text

Rosie and Alastor appeared in the Hotel parlor, expecting it to be empty. It had been long enough that breakfast was surely done, and everyone was off to doing whatever they were up to. She really needed to get back to Cannibal Town for an update on Alastor's staff- and to make sure that Susan hadn't attempted to overthrow her again- but she wasn't going to leave Alastor alone. She'd call Vaggie once they got there. 

Instead of materializing in an empty room, however, they were greeted by the sight of a tiny egg, arms outstretched, screaming. Alastor's ears pinned back against his head, a bit stunned by the unexpected noise. He whimpered. His head was still pounding after the seizure. He was always ultra sensitive to noise, but especially after a seizure. His head hurt. A screaming eggboi didn't help. 

Following the eggboi was- Alastor's eyes widened. Sir Pentious? He had died at the Extermination. Charlie had said that he was in Heaven now, and that she was in contact with him. Alastor didn't fully believe it. He was positive that redemption was impossible. Yet here he was, his typically black scales now changed to a holy white. He blinked hard, beginning to worry that he was hallucinating. 

Hands clapped behind him, starling him out of his stun. There was Charlie, in her red coat and black bowtie, standing right by where he and Rosie had appeared on the couch. She grimaced, seeing Alastor's surprised face, and knowing how they had gotten here. Rosie hated teleporting, unless she absolutely had to. "So, uh, did something happen, you guys?"

Alastor was about ready to tell her no, and to explain that he was just still recovering, but Rosie spoke up before he did. She pat his head, causing him to groan. He deserved it. Even he knew that. "Well, Charlie, someone decided that he could skip out on his medicine, and karma is a you-know-what and decided to black out at the overlords meetin', now didn't you?" She annunciated on the word "someone".

Charlie gasped. Well, this was bad. She wanted to ask questions, but she couldn't figure out to start. Maybe she should start at asking if Alastor was ok, or maybe asking who was there, or maybe asking who figured it out. She just frowned, waiting for someone to actually say something. Alastor's smile was thin lipped and twitching. Oh, he was ticked. If this whole situation wasn't so bad, his reaction would be funny. 

"Good news for you, though!" Rosie continued, her smile growing even more. "You will never actually believe who helped us! Miss Velvette! I don't trust her and her little friends, especially that loser Vox, but hey, she actually did us a solid! Most of those overlords already left, but you know our Alastor, stayin' around to get the last word. So thankfully not many of them were still there, and no one seemed too concerned! They thought he fainted!"

"Oh," Charlie replied, relaxing a bit. Maybe the worst case scenario was avoided. But, like Rosie said, she didn't trust Velvette. There had to be some other motive hiding behind her helping Alastor. She would never just willingly help him. She knew that Rosie would never be stupid enough to make a deal with her, but Velvette would probably still feel like a favor was owed. "Anyways, uh, Alastor, are you doing ok?"

"My dear, I am fine! It did not last long at all!" He sounded a bit exasperated with her. At least that was good. If he didn't, she would be more worried. "I am rather concerned, however, that I am beginning to hallucinate, as I could have sworn that I had seen that serpent fellow and one of his ragged little minions running around this lobby."

The princess smiled, bouncing on her heels. It made Alastor cringe. It reminded him of Vox. "Yes! Sir Pen is just visiting from Heaven for a bit! He got to see Cherri, and now he's trying to get Frank because Emily said that he could go to Heaven with him! Wait, have you met Emily yet? She's here right now, I'm sure she would absolutely love to talk to you!" Alastor wanted a nap, not a new friend. 

Rosie stood up, patting Alastor's head one final time. "Charlie sweetheart, since you have some little friends over, would you mind if I made a visit to Cannibal Town? I wanna check up on Alastor's staff, and I have to make sure everyone is in order. It's been quite the past few weeks!" She waved her hand towards Charlie. Before she could even answer, she started to head towards the door. "Be back soon! Charlie, take care of Al for me, emkay?"

"I guess I am stuck here with you and our heavenly visitors," Alastor spat. He wasn't very thrilled about this whole situation. He spotted another angel out of the corner of his eye. That must have been Emily. He had to admit, those wings looked mighty tasty. If he wasn't so tired, he would have a much harder time controlling himself. Maybe that's why Rosie left. 

"Hello there! You must be Alastor! Charlie has told me all about you," the angel came up and reached out a hand to shake. He took it, albeit unwillingly. He didn't trust her. After what Adam had did to him, all of the hatred that he had for angels only grew stronger. She looked sweet enough, however. She looked young, too. "I'm Emily, you can call me Em, or whatever you want, I don't care, it's just really nice to meet you!"

All he gave her in return was a low growl. Emily anxiously looked at Charlie, before taking a seat on the couch across from Alastor. She pulled out her phone, smiling at it, and began scrolling away. Oh, these young beings and their phones. She was probably reading that newfangled fanfiction thing that Niffty had talked about before. What an odd interest. 

Charlie had tentatively pulled Sir Pentious off to the side, away from the earshots of both Alastor and Emily. This would be one of those things for them to not know. "So, uh, Pen, hi. I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I didn't realize that Al was going to be paying us a visit! Following the whole Adam situation, uh, he's been having seizures."

"Ssseizuresss?" He hissed, cocking his head. "If they were causssed by Adam, why don't I just asssk Emily to help heal him? She may have to asssk Sssera, but she could probably fix the damage from angelic woundsss. If sssomething happensss, should I jussst sssit with him?" He didn't like the look on Charlie's face. It was very tentative. 

"Al won't let you help him," she said, "he's stubborn. And it wasn't actually really caused by Adam, he broke his staff, which had some healing magic in it. Cannibal Town is getting that fixed. But uh yeah, if something happens, just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, ok?" Sir Pentious thought that was easy enough. If he could care for his eggbois, he could probably care for a seizure. 

Unfortunately, there wasn't much he or Emily could do for something that wasn't technically caused by an angelic wound. They could try to petition the higher ups for healing magic, but that was a risk in and of itself. There was no way that Sera would actually help them, and he was unsure if even she could do anything. If whatever it was happened before he got to Hell, angelic magic couldn't really do too much. 

Emily said something, barely above a whisper, from the couch, causing both of their heads to turn. She smiled, pointing at Alastor. "Look, he fell asleep!" Sure enough, he was asleep on the couch, his eyes closed, and his head lolled over to the side. Charlie was glad to see him resting. He needed all the rest that he could get. 

The princess clapped her hands- a little too loudly, as Alastor stirred, but he immediately fell asleep again. "Alright guys, I have some work to do, but I wanna stay here. I'll be at the bar, filling out some paperwork, call me over if you need me! Please don't let Frank do any more damage than he already has," Charlie shot a side eye at the mess building up on the ground. At least he was leaving after today.

Charlie was pleasantly surprised that Alastor was making conversation with Emily and Sir Pentious. He slept for about a half an hour, probably good after the seizure that Rosie said that he had, before he woke up and tried to be amicable with the two heavenly guests. He was more listening to Pen's tangent about Frank, who he now had constrained in his arms. 

She wasn't listening all too carefully. She had her earbuds in, listening to some pop music, but she occasionally pulled them out to make sure that all was well. She was tired of the paperwork, too. Lots of math, lots of calculations, and lots of signing stuff that she didn't really care about. But she had to get it all done eventually, even if she was bored out of her mind. 

Sir Pentious sat next to Emily, and across from Alastor, the deer's kindness genuinely surprising him. He expected that he would be kind towards Emily- he was a gentleman, after all. But he usually hated him. They were rivals for so long. He seemed a bit tired and achy. It was unlike anything that he had ever seen from Alastor before. It was a bit unnerving, like he was planning something bad. Him falling asleep was a bit odd, too. 

Alastor had tried to make a bit of conversation himself, and not just listen to the snake's tangent. "I am planning on getting my radio broadcasts daily up too soon," he stopped, popping his lips and how jumbled and slurred it all sounded. "Pardon me. What radio host would so such a thing, shouldn't I-" he trailed off, jerking his head back momentarily, trying to say something, and then he stopped. 

Both Emily and Sir Pentious looked at each other, and then back at Alastor. His face was weird. It was unreadable, and his eyes were unfocused. It was unsettling. Emily carefully stood up, not trusting him to lash out. He was tugging hard on his collar. She didn't like it. She and Pen waved hands in front of his face, but he did nothing, except smile. It was very odd. "Hey, uhm, Alastor, are you ok-" she was cut off.

"Charlotte! Charlotte, your deer isss broken!" Sir Pentious called, his voice cracking as he did so. Charlie pulled one of her earbuds out, and spun around, looking on to seeing Sir Pentious shaking Alastor far too aggressively. "Charlotte, pleassse, come over here, sssomething isss wrong with your deer! He'sss acting ssstrange! Ssstranger than usssual!" 

"What's going on?" Emily held a grey hand to her mouth, watching Sir Pentious violently shaking an unresponsive Alastor. Was this a Hell thing? Sir Pentious seemed to nervous for it to be just a regular old Hell thing. He looked so dazed. "Sir Pen, could I do something to help? Do demons just have this happen to them? What is going on, I'm kinda scared."

"It'll be fine," Charlie said, kneeling down in front of Alastor. She wasn't sure if it would be fine. She hadn't been in a situation alone with him seizing yet. Ok, she wasn't alone, but neither Sir Pentious or Emily had any more clue about what to do than she did. Last time, she had Angel and Vaggie. Her girlfriend helped her. She fumbled for her phone in her pocket- where was her phone? Vaggie was probably pretty far away, anyways. 

Emily sat back down on the couch behind her, watching Charlie gently shaking Alastor's leg, and calling out his name. He seemed like he was unconscious. Being an angel, she could read pain, and she could read fear. Charlie was anxious. She could sense it. The angel took a deep breath. Maybe she could try to fix it. She stood up, placed a hand on Alastor's head, and tried to push all of the healing energy that she had at him. 

Sera had told her explicitly that she wasn't allowed to use any angelic energy down here, except what she needed to get through the portal. She had told her to not waste it on sinners. Charlie was the exception, and even that she cautioned against. But she just couldn't take this. Alastor looked to be in pain. Charlie seemed frantic. Sir Pentious seemed stunned. And so, she forced the energy out of her hand. 

Nothing happened. The energy came right back towards her. She had been told that, if something did happen to Charlie, there was a decent chance that her angelic magic wouldn't even help her, because she was half sinner. Alastor was fully a sinner. No wonder why her magic didn't help. She felt some tears welling in her eyes. "Pen? What is going on?"

Charlie sighed. "He's having a seizure," she said, sitting next to him now. "I don't know if you ever lived in the human world or not, I'm sorry Em, uh, I don't know if you know exactly what is going on. I'm sure this wouldn't happen in Heaven. He'll be fine, we've just gotta make him wake up a little!" Charlie giggled nervously. Emily hated nervous energy. It directly contrasted against the angelic energy that flowed within her. 

"Oh," Sir Pentious replied, drawing the sound out. "Ssso, thisss isss what you meant when you sssaid he wasss having ssseizuresss? I thought sssomething different," Emily thought she sensed him relaxing a little. Odd. Maybe this was more normal than she had thought? Maybe he had seen it happen before? "Charlotte, you sssaid that he would be fine after one of thessse, right?"

"Do you want me to go up to Heaven and try to get Sera or something?" Charlie only had time to nod at the snake before Emily interrupted her. "Wait, Sera said once I came back up, she didn't want me going back down. I don't really know if she could do anything, either," he voice trailed off, watching Alastor closely. She wasn't getting any sense of his emotions. He must not have been awake. 

She suddenly felt something from him- exhaustion and frustration. He groaned, beginning to twitch his ears, trying to fight to return to full alertness. He blinked hard, feeling Charlie gently encouraging him, rubbing her hand over his knee. "There you go Al," she said, a smile creeping across her face. "You're doing great, you're back with us, aren't you?"

Alastor grumbled something under his breath. "I am so sorry," he said, slurring his words still. He looked up to see the nervous look in Emily's eyes- she was an angel. He still hated her, but he felt bad. She was an angel, and a young one, too. He probably scared the Heaven right out of her. "Please, don't mind me, I shall be fine," he knew he wouldn't be. He had a sneaking suspicion that the episode wasn't over yet. 

He wasn't going to mention that. He didn't want everyone freaking out again. Everything was spinning, and he felt like everything was fading, including Charlie's voice. "Al, are you sure you're ok?" He was glad that he could make that out, at least. He nodded. He could also make out Pen's little weird egg talking about a shadow government again. He once again worried that he was hallucinating. Sometimes that happened between bad ones. 

"Would you mind if I went up to my room?" He asked. He worried that his bluntness would scare everyone more than necessary. "I'm fine, just, after a seizure, oh, my headaches. I must learn to get through them if I want to return to my broadcasts, but for now, I must rest," ok, he could have sworn that the egg just said something about the shadow government watching him. He really hoped that his craziness was just a hallucination. 

"But, Al, you really shouldn't be left alone," Charlie said, before thinking a bit more. "Well, Niffty is up there, she can take good care of you, right? If you think all is good I'll just stay down here and make sure that Pen and Em and Frank get back safely!" He nodded, and before she couldn't say anything more, Alastor had disappeared into his shadow. Niffty better not screw this up. 

The deer felt himself materialize right outside of his room. He had hoped that he would have wound up in his room, but he was close enough. He did better than he usually did. Everything felt like it was spinning. At least he was away from Sir Pentious' rambling little weird egg monster. Feeling the wall for protection, he pulled himself into his room. 

Fumbling for his keys, he popped one in the door. That must have been the wrong one, as it didn't do anything. He had everyone's keys on a ring. He would have to delay the seizure just long enough to get in. He hoped that Charlie was wrong, and that Niffty wasn't in there. She didn't need to see all this. But then again, she was a bit insane. She would handle it well. 

Chapter Text

His fingers finally found the right key, and he was able to open up his door. It was almost too heavy for him, as he felt so weak. His room felt strange, like there was something off about it, but that was probably just his racing thoughts. He located his bed, and dizzily stumbled into it. Every beat of his heart was felt pulsating in his head. He felt like he was being smothered. 

Nothing made sense. It felt like a black veil was lifted over his mind, pressing down on him, daring him to let himself slip, to let himself lose consciousness, to give in. One thought was keeping him awake- that Rosie was going to kill him. If she were to find him seizing alone, he was going to be dead, and probably so was Charlie. He should have taken that pill. 

He was far too dazed to notice that there actually was someone else in the room with him. She had been waiting there, when he had opened his door. She followed him over to his bed, and now stood down at its side, calling his name. She finally decided to climb onto the bed, and to be next to her dear Alastor. He seemed very unwell. 

Upon her touch at his shoulder, Alastor seemed to be seeing a bit more of the world around him. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better view of the figure in front of him. Niffty. He wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. He loved her like his daughter, even if, in a right state of mind, he wouldn't admit that. He didn't want her having to watch what was about to happen. He could tell it was going to be a bad one. 

"My dear," he mumbled, smiling as wide as he could force it. It wasn't nearly as wide as he could usually push it. He was exhausted. He kept nearly dozing off, but a pound in his head would startle him awake once more. "Niffty, darling, I don't think you should be here. Stay out of the parlor for me, ok?" He didn't want Charlie coming up here, knowing that Niffty left. He wasn't supposed to be alone at all. 

"But, Mr. Alastor," she sounded more curious than worried. She was kneeling at his side, watching him with her single, large eye. He felt a hand wrap around his finger. That's what his maman used to do. He blinked hard, feeling the veil coming back down, over him. No, he had to stay awake now. "Mr. Alastor, you don't look alright. Are you ok?"

"I will be," he muttered, having a hard time gripping onto consciousness, trying to keep his brain thinking as it felt like it was moving through a thick syrup. Niffty, he just had to keep his eyes on Niffty. He squeezed her hand tightly in his, feeling the way her fingers drifted down to his palm. Oh. Again, just like his maman. If he let himself go, just enough, he could hear her voice still. 

"Mon bébé, mon cher Alastor," he could almost feel the warm, Louisianan sun beating down on his face, as he lay on the driveway, his maman finding him half conscious in the backyard. She had told him how lucky he was to have not had this happen on a hunting trip, and how a bon jeune homme like him couldn't afford to go hunting alone with a condition like his. She helped him sit down. She helped him lay down. 

"Tout ira bien, mon bébé cerf," he words were coming to him more. He couldn't have been older than 14. He wished he would have known his maman longer. He felt warm, and dazed, and not entirely sure of where he was, despite being right outside of his home. She tickled his palm, just like she used to do, causing him to smile. She felt his fingers being played with. "Alastor?"

"Mr. Alastor!" Everything came right back to him. His maman wasn't there. That was Niffty. He had to be strong for her, just like how he had to be strong for his maman. His maman had cared for him, and now he cared for Niffty, in his own way. Merde, he hated these hallucinations. At least it wasn't a bad one. He would rather feel like he was up next to his maman, than with his papa. His papa who would say all those horrible things. 

"Your son is just a misbehaving little scoundrel! He brought this all on himself anyways. He had to go, and protect his cher maman. And now you feel bad when he's dealing with, whatever this is?" Silence. That was his papa. He only spoke in English to his maman, and he demanded that she spoke it back to him, even though she hated speaking it. "No, garce, he's not going to take medicine! What would we even buy for the boy?"

The man only swore in French. Those were the only French words that he would say. He always said that God looked the other way when he spoke in French. Alastor always thought that he was mostly kidding. "You want your boy to get medicine? We all know what you dabble in. You probably brought it all on him! I told you. I told you not to. I'm not raising a man who relies on spirits and medicines to get his work done."

He always wondered why Niffty talked so lovingly about her chichi, her papa. She always said that there would never be another man like him, but she saw Alastor as her second one. At first, he didn't take it as a compliment, but apparently he was doing a better job as a father than his did. "Alastor, I swear to you, if you pull this stunt one more time!" That was when everything faded out again. 

Niffty saw something shift in his face. It shifted away from angst and longing, and to just a blankness. Huh. He bit down on his lips with his bright yellow teeth. The maid noticed how he was smiling, but it was like he was not. It was like something was holding it in place. He groaned, like he may have been in pain. Niffty didn't want to see him in pain. 

She laid her head down on his chest, feeling it rise and fall under her. His hand came up to her head, gripping her red hair, and tugging on it. The feeling stung, but she wasn't going to complain. If it helped Mr. Alastor feel better, she would do whatever she needed to. She could not imagine being in Hell without him there to show her a little bit of love. She missed her chichi. But at least she had her Mr. Alastor. 

A pang of memories hit her. Laying on her chichi's chest, as a girl. She couldn't have been older than 14. She laid there, feeling his breaths under her, worrying to herself whether or not he would be ok. She couldn't imagine her life without her chichi, but yet, it seemed like she didn't have much time left. She didn't have much time left. This felt the same way. All of this felt the same way. 

"Otou-san, onegai, please. Don't- just- stay with me, ok? Eien, forever, just stay here and be my otou-san," time felt like it was slowing down. Her two eyes watered, as she squeezed into him more. She knew that his time was running out, one way or another. She blinked until she remembered, she had one eye now, and not two. She was on Mr. Alastor's chest, and not her chichi's. She missed him so much. 

"Can you hear me, Mr. Alastor, Sir?" She asked. His head was turned away from her, his eyes glazed over. She waved a hand in front of his face, and he didn't react. Her chest felt tight. No, she had to be strong. She had to be strong for Mr. Alastor, if for no one else. Her mother always reminded her that she was no longer a child, and she was right. She was old enough to handle this. Like she was old enough to say goodbye to her chichi. 

"Alright, that's ok if you can't hear me," she said, as she sat up. She wasn't sure if she was speaking to him, or if she was speaking to him. Blood was beginning to flow from his lips. His hand still grasped where her head once was. He didn't seem to notice that she was gone. "I'm not gonna leave you, I'm gonna be right here for you, eien. Forever."

Her chichi had once promised her that he would be there for her forever. He was not. Alastor had made the same promise, in his own words. She always thought that Alastor could fulfill his promise. After all, they were both stuck in Hell for all of eternity. But suddenly, everything seemed to be crashing down around her. She learned about the angelic steel. She learned about the seizures. She learned about the incident with Adam. 

Part of her wanted to go and look for Charlie, but Alastor had told her to stay out of the parlor. He knew what he was talking about. Maybe that would make whatever this was worse. It was probably a seizure. That's what it seemed like, anyways. But he couldn't let it win. She needed someone to be her chichi. He would never be her chichi, but he let her climb on him like her chichi. He laughed like her chichi. He loved her like her chichi. 

The maid shifted, but heard Alastor let out a low groan when she did so. He had been doing that this whole time, but something about that- she couldn't leave him. She curled back into him. "Mr. Alastor, Sir, I'm gonna be right here for you. You have been right here for me since the day I got to Hell. The least I could do is stay with you right now," the static coming from him hurt her ears. It was scrambled. It was chaotic.

It was like the words got stuck in her throat as she spoke. She almost mentioned that he had been there since the day that she arrived, and that she would be right there, if it was the day he left. Charlie had said that his seizures couldn't kill him- this was Hell, and only angelic energy could do that. She had been worried that some angelic energy from Adam was hurting him worse. But she never said that part out loud. "I am right here."

A bug scurried across the room, darting into Alastor's bayou. She nearly jumped up to go chase it, but something held her down. She couldn't leave Alastor, even if she let a bug run rampant in the room. The bug would be there later. She wasn't sure if Alastor would be. Out of nowhere, she felt her heart skip a beat, and tears begin to well in her eyes. "I'm sorry Mr. Alastor, but I think I have to cry."

Those were the words that she once told her chichi. He had promised her that she would be ok. Once he was gone, she would be ok. Alastor never made her that promise. He simply thought that he would never leave. He hadn't been around enough after the Extermination for her to ask him if he thought that. "My dad used to promise that I would be ok, no matter what happened to him. I was. I'll try to be ok if something happens to you."

"Mr. Alastor, I promise, I'll be ok for you, if for nothing else," she closed her eye, her sobs growing louder. She wasn't able to hold it in any longer. Everything felt like it was spinning. "I need you to be ok for me too, you know? I'm not sure if you can hear me right now. I hope you can," looking at his face, he didn't seem to be able to. She pulled a cloth from her pocket, wiping the pooling blood away from his lips. 

"Niffty, you will be ok," she promised herself. She tried to hear it in Alastor's voice, as if he was the one who was saying it to her. He always cared for her, and protected her, and stayed with her. Now she could do it for him, even if she was scared to do so. Because, ultimately, she was scared. "And Mr. Alastor, you will be ok too. Just, let me know when you are, ok? Daisuki."

"I love you," She had never actually directly said those words to him before. She was a bit surprised that she did. She let herself break down, letting the dam fall. She did love him, and even if he would never say it in return, she was positive that he loved her back. He had called her his fille, which, from what she understood meant daughter in French. He was her chichi, and she was his musume. They always would be that for each other. 

"And I promise that you will be ok," she whispered again, she mumbled. "I promise you, that you will be ok, and I will be ok, and that everything will be ok. I'm here for you, Mr. Alastor, Sir," she hated that she had to say that. She wasn't sure if she was reminding herself, or if she was reminding him. She didn't know anymore. But she tried to think that she was just talking to him.

"What was that?" Alastor asked, his voice sounding muffled. He turned his head over to look at her, his eyes meeting her one. He smiled a big larger for a second, before groaning, feeling all of his energy slip away from his body. "My dear, did I have a seizure again? Niffty, I said, you shouldn't be here," he trailed off, turned his head over to his other side once more. He licked his lips clean of the blood, as his static died down. 

"No, I couldn't leave you," she insisted, getting closer to him. "I'm here for you, Mr. Alastor. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. I- my chichi left before he should have, and I'm not gonna let you do the same," she started to relax, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion overtake her. She didn't know how long it had been since Alastor had gotten up here, but, although it was still day, she was exhausted. 

"Darling, I must rest, ok?" He closed his eyes, and pulled the main closer into his body. "Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise, I will be fine. This will all be done soon. But for now, my head hurts, and I must rest," before Niffty even had the chance to protest, she felt him slip into sleep. She didn't like it. She was terrified. But even for her, a nap seemed nice. 

"Bonne nuit, Mr. Alastor," she whispered. Those were the only words in French that she knew, but they still fit. As she curled into him, wiping her eye and letting it close, she remembered what she had been told. It will all be ok. Before she could let her thoughts spiral even more, she began to drift off to sleep, her head once again resting on Alastor's chest. Just like her chichi's.

Rosie scrambled to locate the key into Alastor's room. She was not happy. Charlie had told her that they had left him to rest, and that Niffty was up there with him, but she didn't trust Niffty to not get distracted and actually stay with him. She flung his door open, much louder than she actually intended to. The room was dark, besides for a figure laying down on the large bed. 

Her eyes spotted Alastor, soundly asleep, as well as a Niffty, curled up on him. She couldn't help but fawn over their cuddling, even though she had to make sure that they were both alright. She walked closer to them, noticing how they were breathing in unison- slowly, but calmly, resting. She didn't want to wake Alastor, but she had to make sure that he was alright. 

"Hello, my dears, is everyone doin' good?" She asked, raising her voice enough in hopes of rousing them. She watched Niffty stir momentarily, before she groggily opened her eye, and began to rub it. She picked her head up from Alastor's chest, her hair messy. "I see you two had a good nap there, huh? Glad you did, we all know just how much you need it."

"Aunt Rosie!" Niffty seemed to be wide awake now, her eye continuously glancing down at Alastor, who hadn't moved even a muscle. "Mr. Alastor, he had a seizure, I think, and then we fell asleep together, do I need to do something? Is he ok? Do you need me to do something, Aunt Rosie?" She truly did love Rosie like an aunt. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"Why, I'm sure he is," she said, beginning to run her fingers through his own messy hair. "Al, baby, wake on up, please," he seemed to hear that, grumbling something nonsensical in return. "Oh Niffty, he can sleep hard when he wants to. After his seizures, he's out like a light and he stays out for a while!" Her tickling behind his ear finally seemed to do the trick, as he shot upright. 

"Rosie! Why are you here?" He groaned, his back cracking as he sat up. "Don't you have affairs to tend to in Cannibal Town?" He looked over at Niffty, who was sitting there anxiously. Everything immediately came flooding back to him. Entering his room, Niffty being there, hallucinating out of his mind. The next thing he knew, he was telling her that he needed to rest. She was probably terrified. 

"Well, I thought I'd make a visit! Niffty, darlin', you can go now if you wanna," Niffty shook her head, "or you can stay. Let me get us all some tea and we can all relax. It's been a long day again, hasn't it?" I'll be back in a jiffy with your tea, alright my loves? Niffty, don't you leave Al alone. I don't trust him!" She laughed as she began to round the corner, leaving his room.

"Uhm, Auntie Rosie?" Niffty interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. She fiddled with her hands, her eye once again welling with tears. "Do you know if Mr. Alastor is gonna be ok? He- I'm a little scared, to be honest with you," Niffty's voice broke Rosie's dead heart. She was still so young. She had heard her speak about her father before, but never too much. She would have to ask about that more later. 

She nodded slowly. "Niffty, and Alastor, you too, I promise you both, that all will be well. Cannibal Town said that your staff should be ready soon, babe, and that should fix things, right? But I promise you, Miss Niffty, nothin' is gonna happen to Alastor. We're gonna get through it all, together. Now, let me go get that tea. I could summon it, but that would be lazy of me, now wouldn't it." And with that, she left.

As she went downstairs, she was thinking, about the things she wanted to ask. Cannibal Town promised that the staff would be ready soon, but did she trust them? Was it worth forcing him to take those pills, scaring him to his second death, in the meantime? A sudden shout from Charlie interrupted her. "No way. Sir Pentious left Frank here!" A comment about shadow governments confirmed Charlie's words quickly. 

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since Rosie had found Niffty, all curled up with Alastor, the two of them soundly sleeping. That had been terrifying, even if she tried not to show it. She wasn't sure just how much Niffty knew about the seizures, and how to handle them, and if something had happened to Alastor, well, she wasn't sure that there was much that the maid could do about it. 

Her anxiety increased once Niffty awoke, but Alastor didn't. He wasn't waking up easily- sometimes that happened, but it still worried her thatsomething had gone wrong. Well, if something had gone even more wrong than it had already. She tickled behind his ears, relieved to see him wake up. That was the Alastor that she knew and loved. If he didn't wake up to her tickling behind his ears, well, that would be a red flag. 

There was something very concerning about his uptick in seizures. It was a much more gradual process when she first met him, when the realization first set in that he really needed something to stop the seizures. But now, he had been using the magic in his staff for countless years, and then, overnight, he stopped using it. Something else seemed to be off, even if Rosie couldn't put a finger on it. 

But that moment was four days ago now. She was very pleased that he was now taking his magic pills, and they really seemed to be helping. She hadn't mentioned to him that the medical demons had come back to her and told her that they may not be 100% effective at first. Encapsulated magic wasn't quite as effective as what would be in a staff. But they seemed to be helping, until just a night ago. 

That was when he had another seizure, for the first time since he started actually taking his pills. It was very brief- he was sitting there, talking with her, before his eyes trailed off. It lasted maybe 30 seconds. At least it wasn't bad, but it was still disappointing, to say the least. She had finally worked herself up to letting him be alone for a bit. That was when she decided that those privileges would be limited, maybe to his room. 

Now it was the next afternoon, and Alastor hadn't even shown any hints of more seizures. He was sitting in the parlor now, drinking tea with her, appearing fine. Niffty was curled up on his lap, with a cup of "milk tea", something that Rosie didn't fully understand, but the maid seemed to know how to make. It had little weird jelly balls in it- unfortunately, Niffty had confirmed that they weren't eyes. 

"Caroline herself called me," Rosie said, placing her tea on her saucer. "You know what she told me? She said that your staff is gonna be ready very soon! I mean, her hubby's been sayin' that for a while now, but I trust her more than I trust him. She at least knows of what she's talkin' about. At least we have your medicines in the meantime, right darlin'?"

"Sir, you really scared me the other night," Alastor was very thankful for Niffty's interruption. It prevented him from having to answer Rosie- he knew that he couldn't lie to her very easily. "I really thought that something bad had happened to you, Mr. Alastor. I was really worried," she curled up closer to his body, practically pouting at him. She seemed heartbroken. 

"Alas, my dear Niffty, there is no reason to worry. I am fine, just like I promised that I would always be. Both of you kind ladies must stop worrying your little heads over me! Especially now, since Rosie has been kind enough to provide me with those little capsules. They seem to be doing their jobs quite finely, are they not?" He shouldn't have lied. He knew that. 

The deer took a deep breath, looking at Rosie's gaze. Thank goodness was that Rosie seemed far too distracted by Niffty to notice Alastor's confidence briefly leaving his eyes, his body momentarily tensing, and his breath sharpening. She was too preoccupied with the travesty occurring in front of her, on Alastor's lap. Drinking tea from a straw was enough of a crime, but slurping it? The horrors of Hell. 

Rosie could always read Alastor like her favorite book, especially when he was lying. The truth was that Alastor wasn't all that hard to read, if you knew just where to look. She knew exactly to look beyond that smile. And even in moments where he kept the rest of him under control, she could still read him. She knew that deer better than he knew himself. He shouldn't have lied to her. 

In all fairness, he wasn't lying completely. He was just lying partially. for the first two days, following the incident with Niffty, he had taken his pills just as she had instructed. But, his stubborn streaked kicked in yesterday, when he realized just how to hide the pill without her seeing. She didn't force the pills down his throat, as she had threatened to, but she still made sure that he had swallowed them whole. 

From the little he knew about how encapsulated magic worked, it seemed to stick in a demon's system longer than magic from a staff, for example. It might not be as effective, but it was still working, even though he had missed two doses. The only seizure that he'd had since he stopped the medicine was the one that Rosie had seen. He felt a little off later that night, but he went to sleep before it got bad. 

Still unsure about when his staff would be returning, he figured that today would be the perfect day to squeeze in a small broadcast. If the worst came to worst, and he started feeling off again, he would interrupt his broadcast to play some old recordings of screams. No one would think much of it. He had promised Rosie that he wouldn't do a broadcast until his staff returned. That may have been a little white lie. 

Alastor had missed his broadcasts more than anything in the world. It was the purest form of joy. He even had a small, immobile microphone filter feature up there, even if it wasn't nearly as good as his regular filter. It wasn't like the speakers in Hell were great anyways. The chances that anyone would even notice that something was off about his voice, except maybe someone like Rosie, were slim. 

He was thankful that Rosie wasn't forcing him to take the medicine. She gave him his choice- well, the illusion of one. He knew that she would inspect it, and make sure he took it. But she wouldn't force it. She wouldn't be like his papa, pointing out every weakness of his, reducing him to nothing. Those words stuck in his mind for all of eternity. Even if the medicine had magic in it, still, it was medicine. He wasn't weak enough for those. 

That man had always said, if his son had to take medicines, they might as well be for his real issues. He never believed that anything was actually wrong with him. He always said that his staring spells were just disobedience, and that if he took the right things, it would help him. They never helped him. No matter what he gave him, well, it never even came close to helping him. 

"You good there, sweetheart?" Alastor blinked hard, suddenly looking at Rosie again. He quickly nodded and hummed in reply, not wanting her to believe that he had a seizure, and have more of his privileges taken away. What had he been reduced to, needing privileges to do anything? "You don't look very well, Al. Are you sure that you're doin' alright?"

"I'm doing as well as a man of class like me could be, seeing what is occurring on my lap, after all," he shot a glance down at Niffty, whose slurps were only getting louder, as she sucked up those weird little gelatinous things. Rosie said that they had looked good, but Alastor far from agreed. He wasn't the type to even like eyes, anyways. The texture- no thank you. 

His friend smiled. "That's fair enough, dearest. Look at her, she doesn't even know to raise up her pinky," she was just lightly teasing her, and Niffty knew that. She loved that little maid. 

She chuckled maniacally as she watched their responses, both of them seeming quite a bit disgusted with her. "Is it better if I eat meat with it? Would that make you feel better? I can eat some teriyaki with it!"

"Whatever, dearests," Alastor said, standing up. He brushed off his coat, despite having nothing on it. "This is usually the time of day in which I would go for my solo walk, but since someone won't give me those honors, I'll just go to sit in my room and listen to some soft jazz. I need my time to decompress, and to hear me thoughts, you know. Niffty, be good for Aunt Rosie, ok? I know you can, I know you'll be ok, my love." 

"And be good yourself, mister," Rosie prodded. Something was telling her to not leave him alone. He did seem a little bit off, even if he would never admit it. Of course he would never admit it, he was Alastor. But it wasn't a seizure type of off. He just seemed tired, and slower than usual. He was probably still recovering, and she was probably getting too ahead of herself. He was on medicine now, he would be fine. 

"Yes, I'm sure I will, Rosie," the deer replied, making the motion of twirling his staff around, before remembering that he didn't have it. He missed his staff, even magic aside. He needed it to provide comfort. He wasn't sure why he loved it, but he did. "I shall be back before dinner! I may even work on writing some broadcasts for when my staff returns. I cannot wait for that day."

"Take care baby, come get me if you need me!" Alastor nodded, disappearing into his shadow. When he entered into his room, he did just as he said he would- he put on some soft jazz. That way, if someone came by, they would know he was in there. But he had absolutely no intentions of staying in there. With a snap of his fingers, he hopped into his shadows once again.

Niffty laughed, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch. She looked like she was about the begin speaking, but something seemingly caught her eye. She pulled out her needle, beginning to maniacally laugh once more, appearing to chase some sort of rat in the corner, her voice growing louder with each chant, calling for this rat to be stabbed. 

Rosie chuckled. She wanted to go check on Alastor already, but she wanted to have more self control than that. She had to learn to let him do what he needed to do. He was a grown man, and a powerful one at that. She had to keep reminding herself of that, because to her, all he was, was her petit faon. She hated seeing suffer. She hated seeing him on edge. He needed his alone time to think. 

That was just the nature of Alastor. He was a lone wolf, which was pretty funny, considering his deer like traits. He always swore that he never needed company, no matter what was going on. She had seen Alastor almost die- and not only from the seizures- one too many times for her own good. She was terrified of losing her sweet friend. She loved him more than anything. 

Suddenly, it hit her what seemed off. He seemed a little more pale than usual. He was always pale, why was she concerned? It was probably the lighting anyways. She was getting in her head again. She hoped he wasn't growing ill, as those were always triggers for his seizures. When he came back down, she would check him for a fever. She highly doubted he'd have one, but she never knew for sure. 

"What are you doing? Like seriously, what is wrong with you?" Vox shrugged with his palms raised, his digital face staring in shock at what he had seen and heard. Here was Velvette, sitting on the living room couch, with a little pink boombox looking device. That wasn't that weird- she had said that the device fit her aesthetic before- but it was what was playing that was. It was one of Alastor's live broadcasts.

"Have you ever met someone else's business that you can help yourself but to get involved in?" she groaned, relaxing into the couch, and pulling the boombox with her. She just wanted to be left alone for a moment to listen to this. She probably should have gone to her room if she wanted to do so, but maybe she just didn't want to be alone. Vox was right. She didn't know what had gotten into her. 

She was pressing buttons, just trying to find something to listen to, when she had heard him broadcasting. Despite all better judgements, she decided to listen. She wasn't actually processing the words much, more just letting them go in one of her ears, and out the other. She had never actually listened to one of his broadcasts before. 

Velvette hated that she seemed to care about Alastor. She didn't care. She didn't hate him like Vox did, even though he seemed to hate her. She was guilty be association. She couldn't actually care less about another overlord, especially one like him. If something happened to him, she could make a fight for his souls anyways. But she just didn't have the time, or energy, or even the desire, to care. 

But yet, here she was, listening to his broadcast, mostly in an attempt to make sure he was ok. He sounded ok, maybe besides for his voice sounding a little off. His filter sounded different. Probably because he had a different microphone on. He seemed to be prattling, like he normally would be. Another good reminder why she shouldn't care. 

There was just something about Alastor that reminded her of someone she knew in life. He was like a brother to her. No one ever worried about him, because he tried to look ok. No one worried about him, even when it was clear that his health was deteriorating. No one worried about him, because he wouldn't let them believe him. Velvette was a woman who didn't feel remorse for much. She felt remorse for never having worried about him. 

Looking back at it, she wasn't sure why she felt remorse, or what that even had to do with Alastor. She was much younger then, and much poorer, too. She wasn't an overlord in Hell, and one of the most powerful ones at that. Maybe it was the way that he spoke French like him. Maybe it was the way he smiled like him. Why did she care? She had to stop letting some random man from life affect her in her death. 

So many missed opportunities. Those were sticking in her brain now, piercing her thoughts. She should have helped him, but now that little misstep was getting in the way of her work as an overlord. She was better than this. She had to shake the thought of Alastor out of her mind. Valentino always said that she was good at losing her moral compass upon arriving in Hell. She needed to let it go fully. 

Valentino had commented just how quickly she had lost her moral compass. He had said that he had never seen anyone do it quite like her. He always joked that he had none, even before he got there. Velvette had always thought the same about herself, but looking back on her life, she did have her times. She had her moments of compassion and care for others. Apparently, this was enough to trigger those back. 

For starters, she loved her mamá and her papá, they loved her. She loved her cousin, she was her partner in crime, and in fashion. She loved her friend, he meant everything to her. As much of a jerk as Alastor was, he had to have meant something to someone, right? He surely meant something to Vox. The TV would be crushed if something happened to him, if nothing more than because he couldn't taunt him any more. 

Her thoughts abruptly froze when the speech from the radio died down. She eyed it nervously, waiting for Alastor to say something more. She didn't even know what he was talking about. The next thing she head was static- the same static that she had heard a few times now. To many, it wouldn't sound like much. But she recognized it. 

Pulling out her phone, she began to search on her Sinstagram. She couldn't believe what she was about to do. Someone from the Hotel had to have been listening to the broadcast, right? Surely someone was. She almost stopped, but she couldn't. Rosie didn't have a profile. Mierda. She clicked on Charlie's. Blocked. Angel's? Blocked. Niffty's? Not blocked, but the images she saw hurt her eyes. 

"Now what are you doing?" Vox laughed, slapping Velvette's knee. She groaned, pulling her legs back up on the couch. "Can I tell you something, Vel? I'm no expert, but do you hear that sound? I think our little friend Bambi is having a seizure again," he said it in a singsongy voice, making her even more uncomfortable. "Live, and on air! Thanks for turning on the broadcast Vel, it's gotta be hard for him- and for someone else, if you catch me."

"Shut up," she didn't even bother to take her eyes off of her phone. Vaggie. She wasn't blocked. She was surprised, but thankful. She couldn't believe herself. She opened up her DMs, and sent her a chat. Vox couldn't know about this. No one could. She sighed, finally letting her eyes close, and hitting the off button of the boombox. "Can you just not be so annoying, for one day? I would greatly appreciate it."

Chapter Text

Vaggie sat on the couch, her phone off, on vibrate mode, sitting on the cushion next to her. She hadn't noticed Alastor leaving, or really any of his conversation with Niffty and Rosie. She had been here, chatting with her girlfriend, who was at the bar, completing more work. The moth had offered to help, but Charlie declined it. Vaggie sat there, mindlessly clipping her bangs. 

It wasn't like she didn't know better than to attempt to clip her own bangs, but yet, here she was. Perhaps it was a habit that carried over from her time when she was alive, constantly giving herself rather poor emo haircuts and bright dyes. It was a good thing to do, to just pass the time, watching it fall away along with every snip she made. It may have been boring, but at least it was better than a full blown crisis today. 

Her phone vibrated next to her, but she didn't bother to look at it. Charlie was right in front of her, clearly fine. If anyone actually needed her, they would call, and not send a text. Everyone knew that that was the best way of getting in contact with her. Everyone else's emergencies could be handled by someone else, besides Charlie, but again, she was in her line of sight. She wasn't concerned. 

But her phone kept buzzing. It was nearly nonstop. Even Charlie commented about how she should check her phone, just in case something was wrong. Rolling her eyes the moth spun her scissors on her finger, and brushed her hair clippings off her lap. She opened up her phone to see Sinstagram DMs. She almost clicked the device off once more, but then she saw who they were from. It was Velvette. 

"What does she want?" She didn't mean to say that part out loud. It garnered a weird reaction from Charlie, but she waved her hand, dismissing her girlfriend's concerns. "It's just a message from an old friend," she lied, not wanting to stress the princess out even more. She could have sworn that she had blocked the overlord. She read the message: Vagatha, I know you hate me, but please. Alastor's tower. Listening to his broadcast. Seizure.

"Mierda," Vaggie swore under her breath, feeling her blood pressure begin to spike. What if this was a trap? It could probably be a trap. Why would they contact her, though? The Vs didn't seem to want her dead. She stood up, quickly grabbing her spear, getting ready. "Charlie, I'll be back in just a second. I have to do a favor someone needs to cash in," she sent a message back: I swear you puta you better not be playing any jokes on me here.

The moment she got out of range for Charlie to hear, she clicked the little phone icon in the top corner of her messages. It rung a few times, before Velvette hung up. It was a trap. She was about to spin back, and head back to the foyer, but something was nagging at her. If Velvette was telling the truth, and Alastor was having a seizure on the air, that was bad. Where are you? More importantly, where is Vox?

A video sent through, after a moment of waiting. It was a very poorly shot video, clearly nothing that Velvette would have ever prepared. Vaggie was surprised that she would record herself at this state. The camera faced herself, and her face free from makeup. She spun the camera around, revealing Vox lounging across from her, talking and laughing. The video was on mute. V Tower. Dunno where Val is. Prolly the studio. 

With a grumble, Vaggie continued up towards the tower, her spear still drawn. She had no reason to believe that the video was faked, and she wasn't concerned about where Valentino was. He wasn't one to just do Vox's bidding- and neither was Velvette. Why were they listening to the broadcast, anyways? That would be a question for a different time. Please hurry Vagatha, he is on air. 

She climbed up the ladder, and then pushed the door open. Her spear was ready to go. She expected to see someone else, one of the Vs' minions, in the tower. Instead, she saw Alastor, sitting in his spinning hair, bouncing his leg, and ripping at his bowtie. The static was practically piercing her ears, bouncing off the metal walls. Oh. She wasn't lying. Mierda. Thanks, Vel. I guess. 

Still, she was on edge. This would be the perfect time for them to attack, if they wanted to. She would worry about that if it became something to worry about. Right now, she had much bigger issues. She almost called out to him, before remembering just what Velvette had said. He was on the air. She couldn't let all of Hell know what was going on. Well, this whole situation sucked. 

Vaggie looked at the panel in front of her, filled with different buttons and levers and lights. It was all foreign to her. He had one large microphone in front, and she started to inspect its base, hoping that there would be some glaring, obvious way to turn it off. There wasn't. Of course there wasn't. She pressed one button that looked vaguely like an off button, but instead it just emitted a loud screech. 

Soon she found a test button, and pressed it just in case. The test button didn't seem to be working. She saw a glowing red one- maybe that did the trick? She pressed it, but it did nothing. She then pressed it, holding it for a few seconds, until the light flickered off. The static sounds coming from the panel died down. Her phone buzzed. Broadcast is off. Either he woke up or someone's up there. 

It was all still a bit odd to her. She had no clue why Velvette was being so nice about the whole situation. Again, that was something to worry about later. She turned her attention to Alastor, making sure that he was ok, well, as ok as he could be, all things considered. At least he wasn't biting his lip hard again. She looked down at her phone, making note of the time. Bueno. I'm up here with him. Thanks. 

"Hey, Al, are you ok?" She asked. She sat up on his desk, making sure to not accidentally hit any buttons in the process. She took his free hand, still resting on his armrest, and squeezed in gently. She wasn't sure why she did that, or if she should have been doing that, but she did. She rubbed his fingers between hers. "Alastor, come on, not this again," she was more venting to herself now. 

Minutes passed by, and he wasn't coming to at all. She checked her phone once more, looking to see what time Velvette had originally texted her. Eight minutes ago. She sighed, her head hanging low. Just as she had begun to allow herself to think that he was getting better, and that those medicines were actually helping. Wait. Those weren't medicines. They were magic. From the little she understood about it, they had to help. 

"Look, I know you're not taking your meds," she giggled, letting a soft smile come upon her face. She knew that he couldn't hear her, but it was still worth the shot. He seemed to keep his stubbornness, even when unconscious. Only Alastor. "I don't want to have to pull Rosie up here and tell her. If you can come back to me, this little secret can stay between us," she knew that it was like bargaining with a brick wall. 

Her legs kicked below her, mindlessly swinging. She wished that her demon form was at least a bit taller than her human one, but this was Hell after all. Of course she wasn't going to get such niceties. She wasn't exactly sure what to do. She should have him at a hospital. But Alastor couldn't go to a hospital. It would put everyone at risk. 

Twitches in Alastor's face caught the moth's eye. "Alastor?" She asked, squeezing his hand harder. His breath paused with every twitch, and his eyes momentarily shot up to the back of his head. "Alastor! Are you seriously going to have a fricking tonic clonic on me here?" She jumped down from her seat, but as she did so, thankfully, he slowed. "Or, maybe not."

His whole body relaxed as she said that, his eyes drifting shut as his head lolled to the side. She wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. Rosie had mentioned that sometimes he twitched awkwardly during a longer seizure. Maybe that's all it was. She hoped that's all that it was. She gently placed a hand on his chest, shaking him a little. "Hey, Al, can you wake up for me, please?"

He turned his head to her, his eyes barely open, seemingly not seeing Vaggie. At least he was conscious. He stared at her for a moment, before suddenly sharply inhaling. He jumped back in his chair, gasping, and flinching at the pain shooting up to his head. His eyes shot around, taking in all of his surroundings. "Am- I'm on air, aren't I?" He panicked, checking on the red button that Vaggie had pressed. He relaxed, seeing it turned off.

"You're good, you're not on air, don't worry," she was gentle with him, trying to softly encourage him. "It was ten minutes, which, well, you know that's not good. You have to take your magic again, Alastor. You can't hust stop taking it. Why don't we just relax up here for a bit, feel free to rest until you feel better," she trailed off, seeming the look of panic return to him. "Al?"

"How did you know?" He asked, propelling his chair backwards with his legs. "Vagatha, how did you know that I stopped the medicines? Does Rosie know?" He brought a hand to his mouth, chewing on one of his long, red nails. Vaggie thought it was almost funny, seeing someone of such high ranking doing that. "No one was supposed to know that."

"I just figured. I think magic pills will always work, as long as you are taking them," she shrugged, before noticing how scared he still looked. It was odd. His brain was probably still recuperating from his seizure- it was a longer one, and he was probably still all out of wack. "I did the same thing when I was like, I dunno, 15? With my antidepressants? I've been there, done that. Suffice it to say, I regretted that. Let's get you back on them, ok?"

"Vagatha, I swear, if you tell a single soul about this," he looked like he was trying to threaten her, although he was failing. He didn't have enough magic to look remotely near terrifying. Noticing this, he leaned back in his chair, his breath quickening. He gripped onto his armrests. He seemed to be resorting to begging. "Vaggie, please, just," he stopped himself, using his last bit of magic to teleport away. 

"Seriously?" The moth grunted under her breath, immediately taking off down the radio tower ladder. She needed to get to his room, and quickly. She practically tripped as she ran through the hall, trying to locate his door. Locked. Of course it was. She pulled out his key, and flung his door open, calling for him. It was empty. She popped her lips, realizing that he could be just about anywhere in Pentagram City. She had to let everyone know. 

"Everyone, listen up!" She called, practically stumbling her way down the stairs. She was busy looking at her phone, trying to see if there was anything on social media, reporting about a confused Radio Demon walking down the street. Nothing. "Alastor had a seizure, he's dazed, and now he's missing," she stopped talking once she saw that everyone already knew exactly what was going on. Alastor was in the parlor. 

The deer was standing, his arms up like a meerkat. He was glancing around, panicking. He wasn't breathing right. Vaggie had a feeling that he was throwing himself right into another seizure- Rosie had said that hyperventilation was a major trigger of his. Apparently, the cannibal agreed. "Alastor, you gotta take a deep breath, babe. You're gonna have another seizure if you don't. Deep breaths, Al, deep breaths."

Rosie seemed a bit frantic herself, pulling Alastor's hands. "Al, baby," her voice seemed to crack with tears. She looked at Vaggie, grimacing. "I thought magic pills were- I thought that they would always work?" Alastor started pleading with the cannibal, claiming that he was fine. He was far from fine. He was panicking, and seemingly a bit delirious. "Al? Darlin', you're warm."

Vaggie scoffed. She didn't know a thing about magic pills- she figured that Rosie would know more than she did. Either way, it wasn't like he was taking them. She assumed that he was too delirious to remember much of this, anyways. She just had to spill it. "Look, I don't know if they do or not, but I do know that he's not taking them. I don't know since when. I just know that the stubborn pendejo hasn't been. Wait, you said that he's warm?"

She walked over to him, placing the back on her hand on his forehead, confirming exactly what Rosie had said. She frowned, realizing exactly what was going on. She had never seen him sick before- of course she hadn't! He had healing magic! Different illnesses and viruses were quite common in Hell, but his magic must have prevented that, in the same way that it prevented his seizures. And illness could trigger worse seizures. 

This combination was not good. She was going to try to calm him down, before she heard the soft voice of her girlfriend, coming from behind her. "Vaggie? Is Alastor going to be ok?" The moth turned her head, quickly nodding, before going back to face the Radio Demon. She missed a lot in the brief moment that she was looking away. His face was blank once more. 

Of course he triggered another one. She let out a small chuckle accidentally, more of a sarcastic one than anything. She was about to grab his hand, but Rosie had them firmly. She hated seeing the cannibal woman nervous- she shouldn't be nervous about this. She had been with him in Hell since before Vaggie was even born on Earth! He looked so pale, and so feeble. She signed. 

It was clear that the seizure itself was getting pretty bad, too. He ripped an arm away from Rosie, picking at his fingernails. Holding her other hand firmly still, he began to wander away from her, causing Rosie to carefully place a hand on his back. "I got you, baby. I got you, I'm not lettin' go," she walked with him, following his every step. He brought his hand to his face, picking at his cheek. 

There wasn't much that Vaggie could do besides take a deep breath, and keep track of the time. She watched seconds tick by. Everyone was incredibly silent. She thought that she had heard a few whispers between Angel and Husk, although she couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. She was too busy counting, despite her stopwatch doing all of the work for her. She felt nauseous. 

Seeing Rosie nervous- that was what was scaring her. She had seen the deer ripping his hair out of his scalp. She had seen him bleeding. She seemed to have been with him through it all. What was making this one so scary for her? Vaggie watched as Alastor's legs tensed for a moment, before Rosie began to lead him towards an arm chair. Vaggie finally spoke up. "Rosie, do you need any help?"

While she helped Alastor, still fully unconscious, sit down, she motioned for Vaggie to come over. The moth did as she was told, coming closer to Alastor. It had been about six minutes now. He was sitting up straight. He was smacking his lips together roughly. He tightly squeezed onto Rosie's hand. Everyone else got closer to the trio. "He's gonna be fine, darlin', he's gonna be fine, we just gotta wait this out."

She watched him pulling on his collar again, his eyes blank. Something was wrong. She couldn't shake it. Something was wrong. Maybe it was just how feverish he looked, and how disoriented he seemed? That had to have been it. Nothing was different. But something was wrong. "Alastor," she sounded as forceful as she could, hoping he could maybe hear her. "Alastor! I swear, you gotta come back."

A small voice piped up behind them, shaking. "Aunt Rosie, what's going on with him?" Niffty was here, crap. Vaggie had heard about what had happened the other night. Vaggie knew just how nervous she was. He was her second father. She noticed Rosie leaving, walking behind her to comfort the maid. It was up to her now. She just had to keep him safe. 

She took Niffty's hands in hers, kneeling down to her level, assuring her that Alastor was fine. Vaggie didn't buy it. She knew that he would eventually be fine, at least she hoped, unless he was sick from angelic energy, which would be a whole different issue. "But, I thought he was doing better," she asked, laying her head down and into Rosie's shoulder. 

Vaggie pressed her hand to his forehead once more. He was still burning up. Even if he wasn't having seizures, Vaggie would be concerned about his fever. It seemed pretty high. She'd get a thermometer in his mouth the second that he was awake enough to do so. They probably needed some ice, and some cool towels. She wanted him to wake up first. "Alastor, come on man," she called. Nothing. 

Something changed in his face again. He was doing what he had been earlier. His muscles began to spasm in his face, pulling the corner of his mouth to one side. His eyes began to blink rhythmically, and hard. His shoulders tensed, sending him backwards. Vaggie swore in Spanish. "Hun? Is he going to be alright?" Charlie asked, sounding about ready to burst into tears.

Alastor back was rigid as his arms began to spasm too, locking outwards and tightly. His hands were balled into fists- there was no way that those sharp nails weren't poking holes into his palm. His jaw was locked, and his legs straightened, forcing Vaggie to shift so that she wasn't kicked. She was glad that she had let go of his grasp when she did. She faced her girlfriend. "I don't know," she huffed, looking back at Alastor. He was convulsing.

Chapter Text

She backed up, watching the deer in front of her, sitting in the armchair. Every muscle in his body seemed tense, so tense, like they were all about to pop. His face was warped into a bent smile, the stitches still holding some of it in place, but tensed to the side, in the same direction that his neck was pulling his head. There wasn't much that Vaggie could do.

He wasn't breathing much, causing more worry to grow in Vaggie's body. She tried to tune out everyone's talking around her, and to listen carefully to every breath he took. He wasn't taking many. He forced air out of his lungs, and the area where a normal demon's lips would be was beginning to turn a pale blue. Vaggie was going to try to summon oxygen, but was that what demons breathe anyways? She wasn't sure. 

Carefully, she shifted him a little in the chair. She wasn't sure if this was the right choice. She positioned him on an angle, the closest thing to his side as she could get, all things considered. The moth was surprised that he didn't just return to the position in which he already was. His knuckles were a light grey now, from all of his tensing. Vaggie felt like this was out of her league. 

Even his ankles were constricting, both feet facing inwards, as his legs twitched. He looked like, with just a bit more force, the joints would dislocate. Thankfully, they weren't. Vaggie reached for her phone, considering calling an ambulance- she needed to call an ambulance. She couldn't call an ambulance. That wasn't an option with Alastor, even if that's what she needed to do. 

"I'm- Vaggie, I am so sorry," Rosie said. She had left Niffty with Husk, as he had picked her up, letting her cry into the fur on his chest. Anyone knew that, if the cat wanted to, he could be a good comforter- a lot like Angel in that way, even if he was harder to get to. But, he would always left Niffty come in for an embrace. "He felt warm to me, and, before he got his staff, sometimes, and he was sick, they would generalize."

"Ah," Vaggie replied, taking Rosie's hand in hers. She wished that this would have been mentioned earlier, although it wasn't like there was much more that they could have done differently. This was about the best case scenario. He was in a safe, comfortable chair, surrounded by people. He didn't fall and hit his head, and he wasn't alone, leaving him susceptible to choking. 

Could demons even choke? Vaggie didn't know. Her healing skills seemed limited to what she knew about Earth. She did know about angelic energy, too. She wasn't going to say it just yet, but she worried that the angelic energy from his wound was playing a part in this. Could it be messing up his nervous system? The energy was meant to do as much damage to demons as possible.

Angelic energy was made to hurt demons. It was made to kill demons. Even just a slight touch of it could result in severe illness for a sinner. It weakened immune systems, caused high fevers, broke nervous systems, and burned through the soul. Alastor being alive after all this time was a very good sign. Seizures couldn’t kill him in Hell, but if they were triggered by the angelic energy, anything was possible. 

Still slow and ragged, his breathing was still Vaggie's first concern. She begged him to breathe, she tried to reason with him, but it wasn't like that was going to do much anyways. His chest was tight when she pressed on it. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion around her. Once this phase had passed, she'd check the time. Right now, she just had to wait for him to relax.

Alastor's muscles seemed to relax a little, beginning to jerk. Maybe it was calming down a little, or at least she hoped. He would tense, then relax, jerking rhythmically. His breath hitched with every spasm, but at least he was breathing a bit more regularly now. If her counting was right, it had maybe been 30 seconds now. If it went on for too long, she would have no choice but to get him to the hospital. 

“How long do they usually last?” Vaggie asked, turning towards Rosie. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Angel, trying to keep track of the time, and Charlie, hands covering her mouth, crying. She had to ask Rosie to repeat her answer. She couldn’t focus at any of the issues at hand, seeing her beloved girlfriend in such a state. She just wanted to go and hug her. “Everyone besides Angel and Rosie, could you maybe go somewhere else?”

Everyone nodded, doing as they were told. Everyone knew that it was best to leave the two of them to care for him. Husk ushered Charlie and Niffty off, before Angel offered to leave too, leaving his stopwatch. They agreed. “Bye guys, Al, I need ya to be ok bud, please,” he murmured, before stepping away. He wiped his eyes of the tears. He had seen that happen to a demon or two before. It never ended good. 

"Just a few minutes," Rosie answered, finally getting back to Vaggie's question. She talk one of his locked up, balled fists into her hand, just gently resting it. She was careful to not restrain him. "Oh, my baby," she said softly, her voice cracking, "I hate when this happens, babe. It's been a while, huh? I'm not leavin' you, Vaggie's not leavin' you, we're gonna get you healthy again."

His body tensed in a particularly intense spasm, specifically in his face, muscles near his mouth contracting, until a soft popping sound was heard. Both women's eyes shifted to his face, seeing what had happened. One of the stitches, holding his face up in a smile, had popped. It had turned green, too, magic seemingly coming from it. "Seriously, Al?" Vaggie asked, watching blood start to pour from the spot. 

"Breathe, baby, just breathe," Rosie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing at the wound. He spasmed again, popping another stitch. The cannibal groaned, worried about the little magic that he did have left in him, without his staff. She just wiped the blood, trying to keep it from dripping into his mouth, allowing him to inhale it. Seeing him like this- she wished she couldn't.

"What is going on down here?" Vaggie grimaced at the voice coming from behind her. Besides Vox, this was probably the last person she wanted in the room right now. Lucifer. "What in the unholy- Alastor? Is he having a seizure?" Lucifer ran towards them, with a realization suddenly hitting Vaggie. He was drunk out of his mind when he had found out. Had Charlie not reminded him? Great. Just great. 

"Lucifer, please leave," Rosie said, her typical smile turning into a scowl. She didn't even address him as the King. She didn't bother. "Alastor is ill, but we are perfectly equipped to take care of him," she returned to Alastor, still dabbing the blood coming from his lip. It was a lot more than Vaggie would have expected from such a small stitch. There had to be some magic behind those things. 

The King practically pushed Rosie out of the way, reaching an outstretched arm towards his mouth. "Look, I don't like the guy, but I'm still trying to help!" He slid his jaw open with ease- an ease that no one without the King's hidden strength could do- and reached his other hand for his tongue. "He's gonna swallow it, Miss Cannibal Ma'am, I know that you'd probably enjoy that, but still."

Rosie scoffed at his assumption. "That's not how it works, Luci, and even if it was, I wouldn't want his tongue anyways!" She grabbed his wrist, pulling him away. "Keep your hand out of his mouth, it could hurt him, and if you weren't nearly indestructible, he would hurt you. I assumed a man of your position would know that. Why don't you leave this situation to people who can actually be of use?"

"Wait, Mr. Morningstar!" Vaggie called after him. She had one little bit of hope left. He had to have some powers that couldn't be explained with human medicines. He had to have some magic. "Do you- do you think that you could do something, magically I mean, to stop this? You're a fallen angel, you have more powers than me, please, Mr. Morningstar. For me. For Charlie."

"I suppose that I could try," he rolled his eyes, waving his finger in a circle, sending a healing spell his way. "But only for you and Charlie," his eyes grew as he noticed the magic bouncing off the deer. "What do you mean? Why isn't it working? I can literally heal just about anything that happened in Hell. I can take away angelic wounds! Is that not what's this is all stemming from?"

"It happened before he got here," Vaggie said, tears welling in her eye. "I hoped that you could do something, but if it happened before he got here- his father caused it. He hurt him as a kid. And it left us with this," she put her head down on the armrest, sighing. "You know what, Mr. Morningstar? Could you just go and, I don't know, find and tell Charlie that everything is going to be alright? I don't know that it will be, but, whatever."

"Oh," Lucifer said, slowly nodding, "I see. I didn't realize, I'm sorry, I think I should just go," he looked a bit upset and embarrassed. He didn't know. He opened himself a portal, and stepped through it, quickly closing it behind him. Vaggie blew a raspberry as he did so. Rosie was still dabbing his lip, seemingly more preoccupied with the odd amount of blood coming from the wound. 

She noticed, gratefully, that everything was slowing down. His spasms were becoming less intense, and less frequent. Three minutes. Was that all that it had been since the convulsions started? It felt like it had been forever. Finally, everything stopped, Alastor slumping over in his chair. His eyes closed, and his face relaxed, although he was still bleeding profusely. 

Vaggie finally took a deep breath, even if she wasn't calm. The worst was over, or so she hoped. She touched a hand to his forehead. If anything, he was warmer. Why hadn't she asked Lucifer to heal his illness? She felt like she couldn't think straight. She backed away, leaving Rosie with Alastor for a moment, trying to let her dizziness subside before she did anything more. 

Minutes passed. She didn't disturb his sleep- it was probably pretty deep, anyways. His breathing had evened out into gentle snores, and it appeared that the holes in his lips had finally stopped bleeding. Vaggie noticed a few times, that Rosie would take his hand, fiddling with his fingers, trying to encourage him back to consciousness. He didn't seem particularly eager to return. 

At this moment, Vaggie realized something rather horrifying. His smile was partially gone. Half of his face still looked like himself, held by its stitches. The other half drooped, as any normal demon's face would when they were asleep. She had never seen him like this. Charlie wasn't kidding in saying that those stitches were the only thing holding up his smile.

Dead silence also caught Vaggie's ear. He wasn't breathing. She panicked, running her knuckles over his chest. "Alastor!" She called. She knew that this could happen. But she wasn't actually prepared for it to happen. She relaxed once he started breathing again. "Does he forget to breathe after them, sometimes?" She asked. Rosie just solemnly nodded. 

Finally, she came closer, wrapping an arm around Rosie's shoulder. "Should we get him to the hospital?" She asked, rubbing his other hand even harder. She didn't have particularly strong hands, but his lack of reaction at her pressing into his palm was off putting. "Alastor, can you wake up a bit?" She didn't expect him to be coherent, just responsive a bit. 

The cannibal woman chuckled. "Oh, Vaggie," she said, "do you wanna see a little magic trick? You're not gonna get him to wake up that way," she reached a hand behind one of his ears, lifting it up. She gently tickled behind it, causing it to twitch. She frowned when he didn't wake up at all. "Al? Baby? You good there?" She tickled again. Nothing. She shot a nervous look at Vaggie. 

"He's post-ictal," Vaggie explained, but Rosie simply confirmed that she knew that already. Oh. Vaggie knew that, even for being post-ictal, being fully unconscious this long was not good. 

"Usually, that does the trick for him," Rosie was more speaking to herself than anyone else. She continued tickling, to nothing. She groaned. She was about ready to teleport him to the hospital, when he sat up. 

Alastor was off balance, practically falling back into the chair that he was pushing himself up from. His tongue immediately found the wounds dressing his lip, fiddling with the strings that once held his smile in place. His eyes rolled back, allowing himself to collapse again. His wound began to bleed again, leading Rosie to start dabbing once more. "Al, baby, can you hear me my love?"

The deer nodded, mumbling something incoherent at the cannibal. "Good job baby," she encouraged, trying her best to smile, and trying her best to keep calm. "Are you awake my love? Do you know where you're at, Al?" She got a nodded response, even if his consciousness was still seemingly gone. He reached out for her face, gently touching her forehead. She took the touch. 

His hand found its way back to her hat, bringing the first genuine smile out of Rosie since this whole ordeal started. "You know Alastor," she said to Vaggie, "some things don't change with him, no matter how awake he is! He hates that weirdo Vox, and he loves my velvet hat, don't you babe?" His eyes were half lidded, a haze clouding his vision. He didn't seem to process her words. 

A cough rattled him, causing some blood to bubble and drip out of his mouth. Rosie wiped him off with the handkerchief, encouraging him to relax in his chair. He did as he was told, his eyes closing again, although he would open them at Rosie's touch. At least he could be woken up. That was better than before. She held his hand through it all, trying to stay strong. 

About 15 minutes later, 15 minutes of silence, 15 minutes of nothing, Alastor yawned. He stretched his arms, yelping at the pain that he felt in the corner of his mouth. His eyes foggily looked around the parlor, taking note of his surroundings, seemingly for the first time since the seizure. He yawned again, not having much control over it. Vaggie yawned too. She couldn't help herself. 

"Did I have a seizure?" He asked, dropping his head into his hand. He rubbed his temples. "Everything hurts, Rosie. I haven't felt this bad since the day I got to Hell," his words were slurred. He wiped the blood off of his lips with his tongue, smiling a little wider at the taste. It suddenly hit him. His smile. His smile was no longer plastered onto his face. He seemed panicked. 

"You're ok, babe," Rosie said. "You have a fever, my love. You had a nasty grand mal there. That's why everything hurts. And, uh, your stitches popped. We should probably get you goin' to the hospital, but I know that you are far too stubborn to do such a thing, aren't you hun?" She knew that he needed it. He needed something. "Prolly would help you if you took your meds, too!" She laughed. 

"Wait, you know?" Alastor's eyes widened again. His hand was still feeling over his lips, stunned by the lack of stitching, holding his eternal smile in place. "How did you know, who told you?" He looked at Vaggie, seemingly knowing that she was the culprit, but also apparently having forgotten about the incident in the radio tower. It made sense. Vaggie didn't think that he was fully conscious then, anyways. 

"I had no choice but to tell them," Vaggie admitted. "I found you in your tower, seizing. I woke you up, took a shot in the dark about the magic pills, and then you admitted that you weren't taking your pills, and then you teleported down here. You nearly gave me a heart attack to cause my double death. Then, you know, this happened," she intentionally left out the part about Velvette. Add that to the list of things to go over later. 

"Alright my love," Rosie said, taking his hand in hers as she stood. She shifted her skirt as she did so. "How about this, babe. We get you some rest- you need it, we all know that. You look like you're barely stayin' awake already! Then, we can talk about those medicines, ok? And, we need to get that fever down, mister!" She smiled as Alastor nodded. Vaggie smiled too, until she remembered the fever. Great. She still had to fix that.

Chapter Text

Rosie looked at the deer, who had allowed his eyes to close again. She watched him, watching his breaths slow, and smiled to herself. He had freaked her out. That was the most scared that she had been since the first time that he had one, when he was laying on her lap, years ago. Her mind took her back to that day, despite not wanting to go there. 

She was sitting on her couch, Alastor laying across her. He had been sick for a week now, refusing to get help, refusing to get to the medical demons. He was fluctuating between sleep and seizures, not ever fully returning to consciousness. His fever was causing him to hallucinate, and he wasn't recognizing her any more. He kept calling her his maman. Something about that felt right, albeit in the worst way. 

Alastor was trying to speak. He was trying to say something to her, even though she could not make it out. Then, his eyes rolled into his head. Just like today. She begged him to answer her. He didn't do anything. He spasmed and seized in her arms, while she cried, trying her best to keep herself from screaming. Her magic wasn't nearly as good as it is now. She couldn't teleport him. She had to carry him to the hospital. 

Maybe it would be over soon. Maybe it would end. It was not ending- and he was not breathing. Rosie was panicking, and, despite his stiff body, scooped him up, and ran him through the streets of Cannibal Town. She yelled at the first medical demon that she saw, screaming for help. Everyone had a feeling that she was a rising force in the town. Demons listened to her. 

At the hospital, they waited for the seizure to pass. They assured her that her son would be ok. That's what she called him- her son. She didn't feel like trying to explain it all. The lone medical demon who had already known of his condition arrived, helping her calm down. She needed to be strong for Alastor. They cooled his fever, and soon he was back to normal. 

It was a year later that they finally got his staff. He had a tonic clonic seizure about four months before that, after he had come down with a nasty case of the Hell Flu. He got a fever, and then he got a tonic clonic seizure. That seemed to be the pattern. Once he got his staff, he no longer had seizures- and he didn't have fevers, either. It was amazing what soul bargaining could do, and what powers someone could acquire. 

The cannibal woman's thoughts snapped back to the present, hearing Alastor mumble. He was sleeping, his head laid on his shoulder. He seemed calm. He needed his staff back. The day that he had gotten it, everything changed. He hadn't had a seizure since that day. Until the day in which Adam snapped it in half. Since then, it's been progressively getting worse. 

Fevers weren't going to help him. The angelic energy was probably going to weaken his immune system anyways. No wonder why he had a tonic clonic seizure. She would have to get his staff back, and soon. He needed it. He couldn't keep living like this. It would probably be better if he took his magic capsules, but even those might not be able to fight off seizures triggered by a fever. 

Pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, she pulled it back. He felt even warmer. She tickled behind his ears, attempting to rouse him. His eyes opened slightly, but he didn't acknowledge her much. He was burning up. She pulled him up into her grasp, just like that first time, years ago. He didn't react. "Vaggie, I'm gonna go and take him to his room. I'm gonna get him some cool towels. He needs his fever to come down, darlin'."

Vaggie nodded. She was standing a few feet away from Rosie- when had that happened- and waved goodbye. "I'll be up there in just a second," she said, "let me get the towels for you and stuff. Maybe some ice, too," she watched as Rosie went up in smoke. She hoped that doing that wouldn't raise his already high fever even more. She tried to smile, but she couldn't. Instead, she fell to her knees. 

Why was she so upset? She had no reason to be so upset. She hated Alastor! She hated him with her whole heart. But here she was, on her hands and knees, crying over him. She didn't mean to be crying. It had just started. One moment, she was caring for him, and the next moment, she found herself on her hands and knees, sobbing, struggling to catch her breath. She didn't know what had happened to her.

She was a fighter. She shouldn't be crying over a demon who she actively despised, who was probably trying to take advantage of her girlfriend. She slammed an angry hand against the ground, before rolling over to sit. She brought her knees up to her chest, putting her head down in them. She didn't even know why she was crying. Rosie was the one who should be crying. 

Things would be different if this wasn't her dream in life. She wanted nothing more than to be a nurse, and care for the ailing. She had gotten her opportunity now, and she was cracking under the pressure. It was just different when it was someone she liked. No, not someone she liked. Someone Charlie liked. It all hit her, all at once. Rosie couldn't do this alone. She couldn't quit. 

Despite wanting to back out of this, despite feeling like she was in over her head- no. She couldn't back down. She brushed her jagged bangs out of the spot where her eye used to be. "What is wrong with me?" She muttered. "Here I was, cutting my bangs, letting the whole world fall down around him? I just left him, let him go off and nearly tell all of Hell his secret? Why do I care? Why?"

What she needed to do was calm down. She knew that she had to calm down. She knew that she had to go check on him, and reduce his fever. That was the start of getting him better. He needed to get rid of that fever. Maybe if he wouldn't be such a stubborn puta and just accept the help that Rosie was offering, maybe if that was the case, he wouldn't have gotten sick. Why was he so stubborn?

There was something ironic about asking that, she realized. Here she was, way above her own head, her mind's eye only replaying the moment that she realized that he was convulsing in front of her. No, it was replaying Charlie's voice, and her face. That's what it was replaying. She was supposed to protect Charlie, was she not? And now, she was supposed to protect Alastor, too. "What happened to me?"

Taking a deep breath, she allowed her remaining eye to open. She needed to get up, and go and take care of him. She felt weak. She hadn't slept much since this all started. Coming to think of it, she felt a bit feverish herself. She shouldn't complain, even if she was sick. She wouldn't risk going into a full blown seizure due to a fever. She placed her palms onto her eye, and her x. 

To take care of Charlie, and, therefore, those she loved. That was her job. She couldn't stop caring for Alastor, even if she was sick. What if she had gotten him sick? Did she cause this? The thought felt like a knife through her heart. Seeing people she loved hurt, that was worse than anything that Lute had done to her. “And now I’m upset that I’m upset! Hell below, he could be dead by now, and I’m sitting here crying, because I’m crying!” 

Vaggie gathered herself with a deep breath, slowly standing up. She felt a bit of dizziness come over her. She didn't even know how long that it had been. She could have gotten him sick. Charlie would never forgive her for that one. She meandered into the kitchen, not truly paying much attention. She wiped the tears from her eye. She couldn't break now. She just needed him to be less stubborn. 

Was she victim blaming now? She leaned up against the cool wall in the kitchen, relaxing her muscles against it. She wasn't entirely sure what had caused her to break. But she did just wish that Alastor wouldn't be such a pendejo. Help was available. He just wasn't taking it? Why wasn't he taking it? She wondered if that was something else to add to the never ending list of things to figure out.

Carmilla's words stuck in her mind. You'll only stand a chance if you're out for love. Was she beginning to love Alastor, and his twisted, creepy mind, too? She sighed, knowing that she didn't have time for this. She needed to get supplies up to Rosie. She was able to handle this without breaking down, so why couldn't she, someone who dreamed of this? She dreamed of taking care of people, and protecting them. 

That had been her dream for as long as she could remember. She remembered her Tía Carmen, the first enfermera that she knew, who took care of people selflessly. She always said just how motivated she was by her love for those she cared for. This was Vaggie's dream. To be a protector. To be a caregiver. And now here she was, getting everything that she could have ever asked for, and unable to handle it. 

Alastor’s words also stuck with her. Smile dear, you’re never fully dressed without one. She forced herself to smile, darker thoughts suddenly creeping into her mind. His smile was gone. His one shield, was gone. It was his shield. No one ever knew what was truly going on with him, because of that stupid, fake smile. Maybe if she threw one on, she could get through this mess that she was in. 

She wet a cloth under cold water, and did the same with another. She grabbed some ice from the freezer- she was so thankful that Charlie had brought her dad here. Ice in Hell was a hot commodity. Or maybe a cold one. He could just get these things for them. It was nice. She placed the ice chips in a plastic bag, and filled up a cup of cool water for Alastor, and then another for herself. No, it was for Rosie. 

Walking up the stairs was hard. It shouldn't have been hard, but she was still trying to catch her breath. The halls seemed longer and darker than usual. She wondered how Charlie was doing. After she delivered everything to Rosie, she would have to check on her. She couldn't just leave her girlfriend alone through all this. And Niffty. And Angel. And Husk. She whimpered a little, finding herself at Alastor's door.

It clicked open gently as she pushed on it. Her eye first drifted to Alastor, in bed. She felt like she shouldn't be seeing him this way. He wore a simple white undershirt, and some black shorts. All of the blankets were on the ground. She then noticed Rosie, who was talking with someone- Charlie. Why was Charlie here? Before she could answer that, she noticed the real problem with Alastor. He still only had half of a smile. 

He looked so vulnerable in such a state. She suddenly felt vulnerable, too. She forced herself to smile as she entered the room, giving an awkward wave to the other two women. “Babe, I did not expect to see you here,” she said, giving her girlfriend a kiss on the forehead, “anyways, uh, Rosie, here’s your supplies,” she handed them over to the grateful cannibal. 

The moth looked at her girlfriend, still fighting tears from welling in her eye. This was the beautiful girl that she was supposed to protect. And here she was, with Rosie, helping take care of Alastor. She got up before Vaggie, who was supposed to take care of Alastor, did. She sat down next to Charlie, rolling her head onto her shoulder. "So, Rosie, how is he doing?"

Hissing, Rosie felt his head again. She shook her head, a frown growing as she placed the towels and ice down. "He's just got a real nasty fever," she said, "once it breaks, he should start to get better, won't you Al?" The look on her face was unreadable to Vaggie. She then turned to face her, now looking surprised. "Vaggie darlin', you look a bit pale yourself! Do not tell me that Alastor gave you his fever."

"I'm fine," Vaggie mumbled in return, sighing over Charlie's worried touches of her forehead. "I promise, I am fine. Even if I wasn't fine, I'm not gonna drop into a seizure like someone else we know! Let's fix Alastor and then we can worry about me," Rosie recognized what this was. She recognized it even more once she saw a fake smile crossing the moth's face from ear to ear. She had definitely gotten something from Alastor.

"And I promise you that it's ok if you're not," Rosie replied. She clapped her hands together, taking a good look at the girls, cuddled up on the couch. "Ah yes, love! I love love. It's really nice seein' you two sweethearts together! Just two little lovebirds," she patted their heads, before taking her glass, and handing it to Vaggie. "Darlin', I think you need this one more than me. Can't have you and Al sick at the same time."

"Seriously, I don't need to be cared for. I am perfectly fine caring for myself, thank you," Vaggie snapped. She was surprised at her reaction, covering her agape mouth with her hand. "Oh, I'm so sorry Rosie, I didn't mean it that way," she felt awful. She hadn't meant to have snapped at Rosie. Without Rosie, she would have been left to care for him, all on her own. She needed to be nicer to her, even if she didn't trust her. 

"Miss Vaggie, do you really think I don't see right through you," the cannibal chuckled, fluffing with the moth's hair. "I know you hate the man but you're a lot more like Alastor than you'd ever like to admit. Always tryin' to show your strength, always tryin' to protect others, you just don't know how to accept help, now do you? This is a team effort, babe. We'll all do it together."

"Rosie?" Alastor's weak voice interrupted the trio's moment. Everyone had all but forgotten that he was there. He opened his eyes fully, practically for the first time since the tonic clonic seizure. He tried to smile with his unstitched side, but grimaced at the pain. "Rosie, I need my mouth stitched. You know I'm never fully dressed without my smile," he whispered. For the first time, Vaggie understood why he cared so much.

"We'll get those stitches in you in a bit," she said, grabbing the other water cup from his nightstand. "Why don't you let that little mouth of yours relax for a while, huh? It never stops smilin', and it stops talkin' even less! Goodness knows that you can't stay silent for nothin', can you love?" She offered the glass to him, which he didn't accept. She looked at him carefully. "Alastor, are you with me hun?"

Despite his nodding, Rosie knew that he wasn't fully there. She brushed his bangs away from his sticky forehead, relieved that his ears were responding to her touch. She dabbed the towel over his forehead. "Oh, sweetheart, you're so warm. You need to get better for Rosie, ok?" He nodded again, before closing his eyes, letting himself fall asleep. She knew how much he needed a nap. 

It was then that she felt a buzz coming from her pocket. She pulled out her phone, answering it. Vaggie watched and listened to Rosie's shushed words, trying to not disrupt Alastor's rest. "Well, ok then Caroline. Uh huh. I'm sure he will, babe. You're right about that, he is one stubborn son of a gun. Yeah, he's just fightin' a fever now. They're gettin' worse," Vaggie deduced exactly what she was talking about. 

When she hung up, she offered a warm smile at the two girls on her couch. "Good news, my huns, Caroline- she's the one craftin' his staff- said that it should be done soon. He's gonna be so happy. You would have never even imagined Alastor so excited!" She looked over at the sleeping dear, calling him sweet pet names in French, and reminding him how his staff was coming soon, he was getting help. 

After listening to Rosie prod Alastor on his lack of accepting help- and teasing him how he probably wouldn't accept it when it was handed to him- Vaggie spoke up. "Rosie, you look tired. If you want to go and get some rest or something, I can keep watch over him. Charlie, you too," she smiled, but Charlie shook her head. She wanted to help her girlfriend. Her girlfriend didn't want to be helped. 

"I mean, I should probably get back to Cannibal Town soon. I'm gonna need some stitches for his face. If he wakes up all the way and he isn't stitched up like the little doll he is, he might just bite someone's finger off!" Vaggie wasn't sure just how much, if at all, Rosie was joking. "But I just don't wanna leave you here, darlin'! I've known this boy for ages sweetheart, I'm used to his antics."

"Don't worry, please. I'm fine," Vaggie said with a smile. She encouraged the cannibal to let her and Charlie take care of him. Finally, after a few minutes of deliberating, Rosie left in smoke. Vaggie encouraged Charlie to leave, too, but she refused. If there was one thing that the moth didn't need, it was help. She was more than capable of handling this, even if she wanted nothing more than to curl up and take a nap right now. 

"Do you want to go and get some rest? I could just stay with him for a while, you could go and sleep. Hun, you're warm. You need it," Vaggie shook her head no. She wasn't going to leave Alastor for anything. Even though, besides Lucifer himself, Charlie was probably the next best thing. But she really wasn't sick. Besides, she had the angelic weapon. Charlie could call her dad, but she didn't trust him. She also didn't trust her with the spear.

"No, I'm fine," she muttered, carefully running her fingers over her spear. "I do not trust that Vox to not come in here and do some crap. Velvette knows. She knows that he was having a seizure. She texted me. She told me that she heard it on air. Why wasn't I up there? Why didn't I just put two and two together quicker? This could have been bad, Charlie! I need to make sure no one tried anything with him!" She rested her head in her hands.

"Babe," Charlie whispered, pulling Vaggie towards her. Her smile was gone, replaced now by a frown. "You couldn't have known. Do you think that maybe we should get him to the hospital or something? Maybe you could text Rosie and ask her to bring a medical demon back? You don't need to put all this pressure on yourself," Vaggie just shook her head. The two girls sat in silence.

"Papa?" After several minutes, Alastor's voice came out, over the silence of the two girlfriends. Vaggie's eyes widened. Was he still asleep? Was he hallucinating? "Arrêtez! Non, s'il vous plaît, non, papa!"  The moth stood, leaving a once again frightened Charlie behind her. Whatever was going on, his fever was not helping. She shouldn't have let Rosie leave. No, it was good that she did. She could handle this.

Chapter Text

Alastor looked around. Oh, he knew this dream. It wasn't like this was his first time through it, although it had been a long while. He just had to wait it out, and go through the motions again. He never quite understood why his brain insisted on replaying this stuff over and over again, especially at times like this, when he was sick. Even in his sleep, he could feel just how sick he was, and just how ready his body was to give out. 

Maybe that's why this iteration of it all felt worse than its usual presentation. He didn't normally start so weary, or so frustrated, or so ready to get it over with. There were times where he even enjoyed it all- as much as it absolutely sucked, there was always a good ending. He just had to push through the moments of torture to get to that ending. Rosie had told him before that, when it ended, she could hear him laughing in his sleep. 

Quickly, he spotted him, the antagonist of the nightmare, as well as the eventual victim. Maybe it was his sickness making it all feel much more distorted than it usually did. Everything felt a bit hazy. But that didn't stop his vision from focusing on the demon in front of him, a perfect recreation of the day it actually all happened, the second time that he had stumbled across his papa in Hell. 

There was a very particular thought standing out amongst Alastor's scrambled mind- how long it had been since he'd had this one. If he didn't think hard, he might even say that he didn't remember how it went, and where it was taking him. He was pretty confident that he knew the drill, however. No matter what happened, he just had to ride it out, and wait for the fun part.

Tapping his microphone against an outstretched hand, Alastor smirked. "So, here we go again," he said smugly. He watched as the demon spun around, that same look plastered upon his face. Oh, what a day that was. He was thankful that at least it wasn't replaying a nightmare of the first time he had seen his papa. That one didn't have such a fun ending. That one- he'd rather not think about. 

The demon huffed, his eyes widening as he scanned over his son. Alastor mockingly mouthed the words as he said them, realizing that there was some level of pleasure to be found in this. "Alastor? My boy? And what is that which you have with you, huh? Is that some sort of demonic staff?" Despite the fact that he had wound up in literal Hell, his father was terrified of demons, despite being one himself. 

With a twirl of it in the air, Alastor chuckled. "Why, yes, Papa. It's amazing what a demon can do once he faces his fears, accepts who he is now, and takes care of his business!" He adjusted his bowtie, feeling a wave of disorientation hit him. He had his staff- why was he sick? Wait, his father would love to hear about what his staff could do. He might as well say the line. "Would you like to hear about what it can do?"

A middle finger was received, but Alastor payed it no mind. He couldn't care less. He even held the staff out to his father when he inquired for it, feeling his claws over its wood, and flicking at its microphone. "I'm not particularly interested in whatever magic you have acquired. Some things don't change, my little boy. You are still your mother's little son, aren't you?"

"Why, yes I am, and I am quite proud of that! I would rather end up like a noble woman like her than a fool like you!" Something told Alastor to flee. He wasn't supposed to flee at this point. He knew how the dream was supposed to end. It was supposed to end with the most satisfying scream that he had ever heard, even more satisfying than he when he killed his father the first time. 

"Do you mean a faker?" His voice was the same one that he had heard growing up. Nothing changed about it. He didn't even have a cool radio filter. What a sad excuse for an afterlife. "You fake your way to fame, Alastor. That's what you did on the other side. You messed around in spirits and you fell for your pute of a mother's tricks and games. She told you to practice magic, you practiced magic. She tried to force magic down your throat."

Taking a deep breath, Alastor tried to remember if this was part of the script. He thought it was. "And what did staying away from that get you, my good sir? I'm also proud to inform you that I have checked every inch of Hell, and my dearest maman is not here. Huh, it's almost like that ultimately didn't have an impact on our fates," he placed his staff down, resting against it, trying to get the upper hand. 

"You're becoming quite the overlord, from what I've heard," his father grumbled. Alastor looked in his eyes. He wasn't owned by anyone. That didn't surprise him. He'd rather die a second death than mess around with demons, despite being one himself. How odd. A smile crept across his father's face. He hated that smile. Alastor was typically a fan of smiles, but not that of his father. "So, is that little staff of yours your secret?"

Alastor tilted his head in feigned confusion, his ears flicking backwards. Putain. "My secret? Why Papa, I think that I always have held it out in the open! It's a pretty dandy tool, if you were to ask me," he held the microphone end in his claws, examining it thoroughly. "State of the art projections, better than anything that I could get my hands on while I was on Earth!" He smiled the widest smile that he could. 

"Idiot, you know what I mean," his father said, jerking the staff away from his grasp. Alastor had to keep reminding himself- this was the script. This was the script, and there was going to be a good ending to it all. "Your mother tried to fix your bad behavior with her little medicines. Is this not just the medicine of demons? You remember what I would say about those things your mother would give to you, huh?" 

"I agree with you, papa, maman dearest was a little silly with all of those things that she tried to give me," Rosie- she had tried to give him pills, too. That's why he wasn't taking them. "But, what is in the past now is in the past, is it not? I worked hard for the powers that I have acquired in my staff. I have killed mercilessly, and I am not afraid to do so again," his eyes changed to radio dials, ready to get to the good part of the dream. 

"What's the difference?" His father was more smug than he remembered, and more sarcastic too. Under a clawed hand, he took the microphone right off of his staff. Electricity came flowing out of the stick. "Your mother payed good for those pills. We already had this discussion, my boy. We don't want to be weak men. You worked hard for your staff, what's the difference between this and a little bit of medication that your mother gave you?"

"No human medication could ever let me do this!" His form grew, joints popping, stitches becoming visible. He was missing stitches on his mouth. When did that happen? He couldn't get to his full powers- maybe that was because of the broken staff. Maybe it was because half of his mouth was unstitched. He got so much of his power through his nonchalance. Apparently, his father must have known this. 

"Maybe not, but your mother did say that it could end your little spells," he was taunting him. No, he was taunting his maman. Alastor could put up with taunting. He would not tolerate someone taunting his maman. His father knew this. He saw his anger bubbling over. "What, upset that I'm mocking your precious little maman? What, are you gonna defend her? Just like what happened to cause your little spells, huh?"

"Such things no longer concern me. That's the power of magic, papa! Take a few risks, live a little wild, play around a bit. What's the worst that's going to happen? Are you going to go to Hell?" Alastor laughed, but quickly stopped, feeling disoriented. He felt very feverish all of the sudden. Everything was starting to spin. There was no way his brain could actually give him a seizure in a dream. He hoped not, at least. 

"It's not really that complicated. Maybe you should stop trying to overthink it, or maybe you're just not thinking enough. I've always known that your mind was a little- well, different. I always thought that was my doing," Alastor felt ill. He didn't usually feel ill, from what he remembered. "You call your mother's little pills weak, at least you know that straight. But yet you think that this little stick is somehow better?

"Listen to me close, boy. If you want to dabble in the magic arts, I will no longer complain. We're in Hell. You've won that battle. But I truly don't think a powerful overlord should rely on the healing magic in a flimsy little stick to get him through his spells, his battle scars. Get all the powers you want, but is that not a bit weak, don't you think?" The demon vanished in front of Alastor. 

His ears rung. They were pinned back on his head. He felt his body shaking. Hist chest was tight. That wasn't how it was supposed to end. It was supposed to end with his papa's defeat, not an interest moral lesson. But, there was something oddly true about that speech, something he didn't like. It was something that reminded him of being a little boy, his papa yelling at him for the first time about those medicines. 

Being told that they made him weak. Winding up taking medicines, ones he didn't want, because he was weak. It proved his weakness. His papa wondering aloud if these brought the diable to their front doorstep, in their home in the bayou. Alastor's thoughts were racing. Visions of his papa, when he was a human, flashing through his head. Something felt very wrong with him. He needed out of this dream.

"Calm down hun, it's ok," Vaggie coaxed Charlie walking up to Alastor's bedside. He was laying on his side now, his body trembling, and a cold sweat running over him. "Ay diablos," she said, repositioning the towel on his head. His skin felt cooler, but she could still feel his fever underneath it. She hadn't told Charlie yet about what had happened in the radio tower. She hadn't told her about the nightmares. 

"What's going on?" Charlie asked nervously. She came up behind her girlfriend, placing a shaky hand on the moth's shoulder. She couldn't quite make out what Alastor was saying- not that she could speak French, anyways. He was muttering, shivering, sometimes a particular shiver would wrack his body worse than others. His eyes were twitching rapidly, falling back against his red hair. 

He looked far more pale than he normally did- it made Charlie feel very uncomfortable. She was tempted to go and cover him with more blankets, but there was no way that such a thing could be good for him right now. As cold as he looked, he was clearly feverish. His breaths hitched as he whimpered, his face and neck twitching as he did so. Charlie felt very ill. 

Vaggie was careful with him, gently rubbing his back. She wasn't really trying to wake him, just to keep him calm and keep him company. Charlie didn't know why. She wanted to push her girlfriend out of the way, and shake Alastor until he was no longer asleep. However, she trusted her girlfriend's judgement. Vaggie slid a hand underneath one of his ears, gently tickling its underside. Charlie knew that a healthy Alastor wouldn't like that. 

The deer's eyelids flittered for a moment, at least responsive to Vaggie's touch. The moth smiled a bit, remembering what Rosie had said. That was her magic trick. It seemed to work again, thankfully. She kept doing so, gently tickling under his ear, trying to bring him out of his fitful sleep. After a few tries, he stopped responding altogether. Vaggie's smile fell, as she moved the ice pack to his face. She was very thankful for it. 

Gently muttered words came out of his lips again. "Aidez-moi, oh, pourquoi ça ne s'arrête pas?" A particularly intense shiver ran through him, causing Vaggie to turn back towards Charlie, shrugging. Why he had to speak French and not Spanish, she wasn't sure. She was able to figure out "help me" and "why", but that was all that she could get. She wished she could understand more. 

She shouldn't be so rattled by what someone was saying in his sleep. He clearly had a nasty fever. His brain was probably conjuring some awful things- she was sure that they were just things that his mind came up with. But his words, despite the language barrier, she heard the desperation. "Charlie, go get Husk. I think he speaks French," she said. She knew that he was going to kill her for this one. 

Charlie returned just a few moments later, the cat in tow. He had heard about he seizures- he had seen him convulsing downstairs, too. He looked nervous as he entered the room, going to Alastor's bedside. "I'm not fluent in French," he warned, "and don't expect me to do no favors for this freak either, but what's going on?" Vaggie could see right through him. Part of him wanted to care. She shouldn't need the help. 

"I don't know," Vaggie resigned herself. She was fighting back tears again, knowing that she was better than this, knowing that she was better than crying over the dreams of some pendejo. It was probably just a dream, and if it was more, it had to have happened a while ago. It wouldn't matter once the fever was broken. She didn't know why she was crying. "Can you just tell us what he's saying?"

"Sure, I guess," Husk tried to act like he didn't care. The look on his face grew from frustrated to shaken quickly. "Uh, Vaggie, he's- Alastor's askin', he's askin' for help," he sounded solemn, watching Alastor's body like he had seen a ghost. With how pale he was, he might as well have. "He's askin' for somethin' to stop, I don't know what, and he's, what do I do?"

Alastor whined, whispering something else, "Que voulez-vous dire? La magie? Oh, la magie! Il n'y a pas de différence, n'est-ce pas? Mais, papa, j'en ai besoin! J'ai besoin de mon canne!" Every eye in the room shifted to Husk, who definitely looked a bit flustered with it all. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alastor's sudden shriek interrupted him. "Putain! Laissez-moi tranquille! Arrêtez!"

Husk squirmed, attempting to translate all that he had just heard. His French was not what it used to be. He felt bad- he genuinely didn't get all of it. "He said something about magic, I think. No, he definitely said somethin' about magic. He said that he needs somethin'. I got that last bit! He said to leave him alone, and to stop, and he also said somethin' before that, not sure if I should repeat that word. And he mentioned his father."

"That cara de pija!" Vaggie shouted, a bit surprised by her outburst. Why was she feeling bad for Alastor? She had heard about his father causing his seizures. She wondered if that was the dream. She felt something rising in her stomach. It wasn't anxiety anymore, but it was anger. It was out of anger towards a man that she had never met before. Her scream seemed to make him wince, covering his ears. 

"Do you think-" Charlie trailed off, sitting back down on the couch behind her. It was less her sitting, and more her falling, exhausted. Vaggie wanted to do the same. Her legs begged her to do the same. But Vaggie wouldn't do the same. She couldn't do the same. She had to stand here, and try to get Alastor back to consciousness. She pulled the ice off of his head, and felt his forehead. He felt cooler. 

"Hey, Alastor," she said, shaking his shoulder. His eyes started to flutter open again, seeming like he was trying to come back to her. She kept shaking, not making much progress with him, before remembering her little magic trick. She went up behind his ear, gently tickling him. He yawned, burying his head down into his pillow. Then, he slowly sat up, gasping for air. 

His eyes shot around nervously, not quite seeming to take it all in. "Qu'est-ce que vous me faites?" He yelled, before getting a bit of better bearings on his surroundings. "Sorry, wait, Husker?" His voice cracked upon seeing the cat demon, who gave him a halfhearted wave. He looked at Alastor, with disdain and pity both filling his gaze at the same time. "I remember falling asleep on the chair, did Rosie take me up here?"

Vaggie nodded. "She sure did. You have a pretty bad fever, bud. You need to rest," she once again felt his forehead, now that the ice had been off of him for a moment. "Hey, you're still warm, but at least you don't feel like you just got freshly baked in the oven," she overheard Husk snicker at that. Maybe adding a bit of humor to the situation wasn't a bad idea. "How are you feeling now, Al?"

"Like I'm going to seize," he slurred. Vaggie was shocked by his honesty. It must have been serious. "Don't worry yourselves, I'll be back soon, it's not going to be like last time," he stopped, staring off again as Vaggie helped lower him down into the bed. She didn't trust him that he wasn't going to start convulsing again. Thankfully, it seemed like he wasn't, at least for now. It could always generalize and get worse. It could always get worse. 

"Should we get him to the hospital, or like call in a doctor or something?" Charlie asked. She began to fiddle with her hands, chipping away at her freshly manicured nails. She bit her lap, almost to the point of drawing blood. She felt absolutely terrified. Vaggie was running her hand over his ears, knowing that she couldn't really wake him up from this, before she spun back to face her girlfriend.

"You think?" She yelled back, gasping at her reaction once more. "Babe, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that," oh, now she had screwed up. She was hitting her breaking point. "I'm sorry babe, I- honestly, I didn't mean to do that. I'm upset. That doesn't excuse what I just did, I honestly. I'm sorry, do you mind if I sit down?" She stumbled back over to the couch, practically collapsing next to Charlie. She felt faint. "I'm so sorry."

"The two of you can be all gay over each other later," Husk grunted. He was now standing closest to Alastor, something that Vaggie wouldn't let happen for long. He held the deer's unconscious hand in his own, trying to gently bring him back. His breaths sounded wheezy, leaving Vaggie to stand, and wobble her way over to the bed. Husk looked anxious. "Charlie, can you call Rosie? I think he just asked for help."

Chapter Text

Charlie ignored Husk's comment, for the most part. She saw her girlfriend, a hand resting on the bed frame for extra support. She looked sick, and the Princess wasn't going to have that. She knew her girlfriend better than anyone. She knew just how far she would push herself, and how she would continue way past her breaking point. She pressed the back of her hand to her girlfriend's head. She winced. 

Her hands drifted down to Vaggie's, holding hers in her own. She looked into her tired eyes, for the first time realizing just how much she had been pushing herself for Alastor- no, for her. She was pushing herself for her. Vaggie didn't give a flying crap about that Radio Demon. She probably wouldn't let this bother her if it was just for him. This was all for her. And now, Charlie felt bad. 

Maybe her priorities had been in the wrong place this whole time? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure if there was a right or a wrong when it came to where she placed her priorities. Her eyes shifted over to Alastor, Husk sitting on the opposite side of the bed from the girls. She couldn't quite tell if Alastor was still seizing. He didn't look fully with it, but he did look more with it than before. Husk could probably handle him for a moment. 

Husk hated Alastor too- oh, this was also for her, wasn't it. Alastor lost his staff for her. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She couldn't afford to break down right now, either. Squeezing Vaggie's hands, she gave her girlfriend a shy smile. She trusted Husk to not to anything dumb if she took her sick, tired, and stubborn girlfriend, to bed. She gave her a light kiss on the forehead, her cheeks warming over with blush as she did so.

With a sigh, Vaggie blushed too. She wasn't feeling great. She felt like she couldn't stand, and she felt like everything was spinning around her a little bit. Charlie kept encouraging her, telling her that it was more than ok to ne not ok, but the moth wasn't going to fall that easily. "I'm fine!" She laughed, a bit too manically for Charlie's liking. "What's going on?" She drummed her hands on her thighs, nervously.

Once she pulled away, she stepped to her girlfriend's side. "Babe, I can carry you if it hurts," Vaggie's face went to a bright shade of pink. Charlie placed an arm behind the moth's knees, and another behind her back, and picking her up, taking her into her arms. "And, scoop!" She giggled, watching Vaggie's eyes widen in sheer gay panic. Husk smiled warmly, taking in the sight of the two girls. Maybe they could be gay over each other now. 

Vaggie resigned herself to her girlfriend's love, slinging an arm around the back of Charlie's neck. She stuck her other arm out awkwardly, not quite sure of what to do with it. Charlie couldn't stop laughing at just how panicked her adorable girlfriend looked. Gay panic- oh, what a feeling. Even in moments like this, there was still a bit of joy to be found, especially in the one that she loved. "Bedtime for you, hon!"

The moth couldn't help her blushing. "Oh wow, gay," she said as she rolled her eyes, leaning back in Charlie's grasp. "Babe, I am fine," she assured. She knew that Charlie wouldn't buy it. She wasn't fine, she definitely wasn't feeling fine. The idea of going to bed right now was quite possibly the most comforting idea in the world, but that still didn't mean it was feasible. She had an Alastor to care for and a girlfriend to watch over.

"Do you really think you're fine?" Husk asked. Vaggie noticed that he was holding Alastor's hand in his- in looked so wrong. That should be her holding his hand. She should be able to beat whatever this weird illness was. Alastor was the one who was actually sick, barely conscious, holding Husk's hand. Alastor, if he was fully awake, would never let Husk touch him, let alone hold his hand. She had to stay with him. 

"You really think she's gonna admit it?" Charlie laughed, restraining the squirming moth in her arms. Vaggie eventually gave up her fighting, letting her girlfriend carry her towards the door. She wanted to jump down, she wanted to help Alastor, but she was just too tired. "Husk, I'll be right back, I'm just gonna tuck her in and then I'll return. Don't let him die, thanks!" Vaggie didn't like the sound of that. "Have fun!"

Despite her desires to stay, she knew it would be of no use. She let Charlie take her up the elevator, and walk down the long hallway leading to their shared bedroom. She threw her down on the bed, covered her in blankets, and drew the curtains. "Babe, you need to sleep," she said, sitting down on the bed next to her. "You're burning up, hon. Just, relax for a bit. I can take care of Alastor." Vaggie didn't like how well Charlie could read her. 

She shook her head, grimacing at the headache that was starting to form behind her eyes. "No, Charlie. I need to take care of some things. I really need to help Alastor. I was a nurse, this is what I am supposed to do," she tried to spin out of bed, but Charlie blocked her. She wasn't going to get away easily, if she was going to get away at all. She felt guilt absolutely crushing her. She didn't want to leave her girlfriend to do this. 

A silence sat over them for a few minutes, before Charlie took her girlfriend's hand again. "My love," she said, "I know you feel like you have to fix everything, I get that. But you don't have to. We work together, that's what we do. We're a team, and we're gonna handle this," Charlie laid down, her head landing near Vaggie's chest. She rubbed Vaggie's palm with her thumb, placing her cool forehead on her girlfriend's warm neck. 

Suddenly, Charlie sat up, in thought. She kicked her legs against the side of the bed. "Hold on babe, I'll be right back," and with that, she was gone. Vaggie figured that she had gone to check on Alastor, which was what she should be doing, not Charlie. Instead, her girlfriend returned several minutes later, holding a bowl, a glass, and a towel. "A towel for your forehead, some water, some medicines, and some microwaved soup. To feel better."

Oh, how much she loved her girlfriend. She was beautiful- every part of her. She wanted to care for her. She wanted to protect her from this whole situation. She didn't need to see it. She didn't need to deal with it. She was too perfect to deal with such things. She looked like she was the one who fell from Heaven, not her. "Thanks, Charlie. I'll be up in a minute so I can help you with Al. I don't want to leave you to fix him."

"It's a team effort," Charlie giggled. "We wouldn't be here if we didn't work through everything together? Do you really think that we'd have this Hotel, do you really think that we would have gotten Sir Pentious redeemed? Baby, I can't do it alone. And neither can you. We're gonna kick Alastor's butt- no, we shouldn't do that. We're gonna kick these seizures' butt, together. That's what we're gonna do. Why? Because we're a team."

"But hon," Vaggie coughed a little pulling her girlfriend towards her. She brought her neck back in, encouraging her to rest her head on her chest. She placed her own head over Charlie's, giving little kisses to the top of it, worrying momentarily that she was going to get Charlie ill. No, she was kissing the top of her head. She was sure it would be fine. She needed the kisses. "Do you promise me that everything is going to be alright?"

"I pinky promise!" Charlie looked up, offering her pinky out to her girlfriend. Vaggie blushed, wrapping her little finger around that of her girlfriend, locking them together. "Me and you versus the world. Thankfully, we have some pretty good souls on our side. But no matter what, we're a team, and we can get through anything in all of Hell. It's for sure now. After all, you know that I don't take pinky promises lightly!"

"Thanks, babe," Vaggie laughed. She didn't feel like eating the soup, and she didn't fully agree with Charlie, either. She was supposed to help take care of her. But she wouldn't be very good at that if she could barely move, would she? Maybe Charlie had a point, even if she didn't want to admit it. She closed her eyes, sinking into her cool pillow. "I love you more than anything, no matter what we go through, and I love this team that we have."

Charlie opened the door into Alastor's room, squeezing her eyes shut. She wasn't sure that she actually wanted to see how he was doing. She was scared- she wouldn't admit it, but she was scared. She felt absolutely helpless. Her magic didn't have much sway on Alastor. She wasn't an overlord, she hadn't acquired hellish healing magic. She had heavenly healing magic, like her father. But like her father, it was useless on. "Hello, Husk?"

Much to her surprise, she wasn't greeted by Husk, but rather by Angel. He was sitting in the middle of the couch, which he had now pulled up to Alastor's bedside. He had his earbuds in, bopping his head to some pop beat that Charlie couldn't hear. He was reading a magazine, one that Charlie assumed that she'd rather not see. "Oh, hey Char. Niff wanted Husk- she likes his ears, ya' know. She isn't holdin' up great. How are you holdin'?"

"Meh," Charlie admitted. Angel scooted over to one side of the couch, slapping the cushion next to him with one of his extra hands. She sat down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "How's Al?"

"He's alive," Angel laughed. He set his magazine down on Alastor's side table. Charlie felt a little squeamish at it. Alastor for sure wouldn't be a fan. "Just sleepin'. He wakes up when I try to get him to though!"

"That's good. Vaggie's asleep," Charlie added, watching Alastor still. He still twitched and shivered with each breath that he made. At least he wasn't going downhill. She felt his forehead again, realizing that he was at least feeling a bit better. A bit better was better than no better. That's what she had to keep reminding herself. Everything would be ok. She and Angel had this whole thing under control. Or at least, she hoped. 

"Do you think that we should call Rosie?" Angel rubbed a hand against Charlie's knee, his claws going right over the hole in her intentionally ripped tights. She was dressed about as casual as one would ever find her, in her black tights, red slippers, and a red crop top with layered hearts on it. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. She didn't even have any makeup on. She just wasn't sure that she had the time or energy right now.

She shrugged her shoulders, looking over at the sleeping deer. "I dunno, I think we can handle it," she said. She stood up, realizing that the towel wasn't as cool anymore. She went into Alastor's bathroom, and squeaked on the old, barely functional sink. Alastor had refused any of her dad's touches in his room, including something as simple as fixing the sink. Why he was so stubborn, she didn't know.

That's how he got here, anyways. He was stubborn, and he wouldn't take his medicine. She didn't know why Rosie hadn't just thrown it down his throat, because it would have had to have been better than this. Charlie returned to the room, and placed the cool towel on his face. He flinched a little, but Angel shook his head. "He was wakin' up more before. I just can't wait for that staff back," he took Charlie's hand in his.

Alastor moaned in his sleep, turning his head toward the pair. The towel slid off his face, forcing Charlie to fix it. "Non! Pas de canne, je n'en aurai pas besoin," his words caused both Angel and Charlie to look awkwardly at each other, each showing visible confusion at his comments. Neither of them spoke any French. Charlie could barely remember how Alastor had taught her to say the word for smile. 

Angel sighed. He wasn't sure why he was so wiped out, too. His head reclined into the back of the couch, popping his neck as he did so. He cracked his knuckles, even pulling out his third set of arms to do so. Charlie could only imagine how nice that would feel. She could only imagine. "I just wish I knew what do to for ya', Al," the spider added. He felt like he wasn't doing enough. He hadn't even been enough for Niffty. 

With a groan, the deer sleepily replied once more. "Je m'en sortirai, j'ai besoin d'elle," he coughed a bit as he said those words. Once again, neither Angel or Charlie had any clue what he was saying. Neither of them imagined that he was very aware of what he was saying. Charlie wondered why it seemed that all of his sleep talking was done in French. Was that the language he was dreaming in? Who knew what was going on inside that mind.

The spider took Alastor's hand and squeezed it, gently shaking it. He wasn't waking up, leading Angel to frown. Charlie remembered what she had seen Vaggie doing, and she stood up, carefully tickling behind his ears. "Alastor?" She called, holding her breath. "Hey Al, can you hear me?" His eyes opened, causing her to almost squeal gleefully. He looked far more conscious than he had all day. This was good. This was progress. 

"Charlotte, darling?" Alastor asked. He stretched, his joints popping and snapping, just like Angel's. "Oh, I apologize, I must have taken a quick nap. Did not even realize that," he paused, trying to think through his words very carefully. "I did not even realize that our friend, my good fellow, is here! I do apologize for the drama that I have out you and Vagatha through lately. Why don't you just go rest, I am for sure on the mend."

"Well, your fever is definitely breaking. I don't think it's all the way gone, but it's definitely getting there," she replied. "But we're not gonna leave you, Al. We saw what happened last time, and the time before that, and the time before that. I know you hate it, but we definitely need to have someone on Alastor duty at all times," Alastor groaned, rolling his eyes. Of course he didn't like that. "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"Whatever you say, Princess," Alastor's voice was laced with sarcasm. That was the Alastor that everyone knew and loved. She wasn't quite ready to let herself feel better, or to let herself relax, but the fact that he was teasing her was a very good sign in her book. He coughed a little his lungs wheezing. "Pardon my cough," he tried to say, but it kept getting broken up by ragged breaths. "There is nothing more you can do for me, my dear."

"There's somethin' that I can do," Angel said. He reached into his purse, sorting through some things. "Ah, here we go, cough medicines. I know ya're gonna hate me toots, but ya' gotta take these, ok? Just a little tiny pill, ya' too tired to fight me, and ya' know it!" Charlie gave Angel and awkward look, but he returned it with a raised eyebrow. "What? It's literally cough medicine! If I wanted to get high, I'd have much better ways."

"Back in my day, Angel Dust, you would never believe the things they put in cough serum. Maybe in your day, too," Alastor looked at the little pill, the visions of his nightmare flooding his mind again. But maybe Angel was right. Maybe he was just too tired for this all. He slid the pill into his mouth and swallowed it, followed by a big drink of water. He hated the way it felt down his throat. Whatever. "Thank you, good fellow."

"Look at this here!" Angel joked, double high fiving Charlie. "We got Smiles to take a pill! I never thought that I would see such a thing! Ya' better start feelin' better soon, freaky face," Alastor snarled at the nickname. Angel pulled back, realizing the risk he was playing. He had just gotten him to take a pill, he should count his blessings. With Charlie, he sat back down on the couch. "So, am I riskin' it askin' ya' to take ya' magic pills?"

They talked for a few minutes, chitchatting about nonsense. Alastor seemed to be growing more distant, and maybe a bit more hazy. He was sick, what else could Charlie expect? But she didn't like it. Now it had been about 20 minutes since he first woke up, so he was due for another fever check. She tested him again- he was definitely warmer. "Well, I guess I'm going to go downstairs and get some more ice, Angel, please be careful."

Both of the men giggled. "Me, be careful?" Angel asked. "Ya' really want me to be careful, like he's not the one who's gonna pass out on me? He's the one that ya' were just sayin' ya' was nervous about, bein' warm and all!" Angel felt him for himself. Charlie was definitely right. He was burning up again. "Also, go grab the fan in my room. It's pink and glittery, I'm sure Smiles is gonna love that one."

Charlie's mind wandered as she went downstairs. She got some ice from the freezer, once again thankful for her dad's contributions. Alastor would probably be even sicker than he was now, if it weren't for it. Even if her dad would never willingly help Alastor, he still was, in his own ways. Next, she headed up to Angel's room- neon lights and glitter filled her sight. She spotted the fan, with a star-shaped blade, pretty quickly. 

It was so Angel Dust. She wrapped its cord around its base, leaving his room. She started to walk towards Vaggie's room, wanting to check on her girlfriend, before something nagged at her soul. A sinking feeling, one that she needed to get back to Alastor's room, and quick. She didn't like the feeling. Vaggie was fine, she was sure. Alastor was probably fine, too. Once she checked, she would go and check on Vaggie.

This feeling kept growing. Something was wrong. She flung open Alastor's door again, seeing Angel Dust, now standing beside Alastor. The deer was now sitting straight up, his shoulders relaxed behind him, and his leg bouncing. Oh, this did not look good. "Angel?" She asked setting her things aside. "Angel, please don't tell me that he's having another one?" Angel's nod confirmed her suspicions. 

Angel looked back at her worriedly. "He pretty much started doin' this the second ya' left! I almost called ya' but if I let go I think he's gonna fall, he don't feel so steady here, and my phone isn't within reach," he was right. He was pretty much holding him up. His face was completely blank, still half smiling, but now half relaxed, just like Charlie would expect. He looked pale. He looked sick. She retrieved the cool towel, and held it to his face.

"We're right here, Al," she said, trying to sound as happy as she could. Maybe he could hear her. She doubted it, but maybe. She didn't know these things, like Vaggie would know. She didn't like his wheezy breaths, either. "Just, stay with me. Uhm, Angel, how long has it been?" She checked her phone, instead of waiting for Angel to deduce it. "Ok, I think I left like, 10 minutes ago. You can do this, just, take some deep breaths."

"Help!" Angel's sudden cry shocked Charlie from her worried ramblings. Angel was having a hard time holding Alastor upright, his body more rigid than it had been a few moments ago. "No, Alastor, I swear if ya' do this to me," he stopped throwing out his meaningless threats. He was trying to calm himself with humor. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea. "It's alright Al, we got ya', just like Charlie said."

He was quickly laid back, Charlie turning his head to the side. His muscles spasmed a few times, especially in his face, but nothing strong. He relaxed after just a few seconds. Neither of them were actually sure if he had a full tonic clonic seizure, or if that was just some weird manifestation of the seizure he was already in. She sat next to him, rubbing his forehead. "You're ok, Al. I promise, you will be ok."

The spider helped Charlie adjust Alastor, getting his legs on the bed with him. He didn't seem very aware at the moment. His eyes sometimes flicked over to whoever was speaking, but that was about it. He repositioned the towel once more, adding some ice on top of it. He hated seeing Alastor like this. He seemed almost in pain, if he was being honest. "Is the seizure over? Or is this just another part of it?"

She held onto his hand firmly, feeling very relieved when he hummed a gentle response to her touch. Ok, maybe he was getting there. Granted, getting there was relative, but at least this might have been a bit better than before. She was about ready to begin encouraging him again, trying to pull him fully back to her, when she noticed something was off. His breathing. He was twitching. His face was red. "Angel! Call Rosie! Now!"

Chapter Text

The princess firmly squeezed Alastor’s hand, calling his name, over and over again. He at least seemed with it enough to look at her, flashing her looks through dazed eyes. She would be encouraged if he was breathing regularly, and if there wasn’t some weird rash on his face. Did demons even need to breathe? Could seizures even cause rashes? Maybe this was just all normal recovery.

If her father had told it to her once, he had told it to her one million times. She had to trust her gut. Something in her gut was telling her that this was very abnormal. She had seen his seizure recovery a few times, and it was nothing like this. But he wasn’t sick at those times, and he was recovering from the type that he had just gone through. That seizure was scary. This all was scary.

Growing up in the Palace provided a lot of niceties to Charlie. She wasn’t fully demon, and she wasn’t fully angel- she was pretty unique. She had no need to learn about any sort of demon anatomy. No one in her family was impacted by medical conditions, and on the rare time that someone got sick, they were treated by the best doctors in all of Hell. This was her first time really ever dealing with this kind of thing. 

Something about his breaths were off, and Charlie couldn’t place a finger on it. He sounded wheezy. That’s what it was. He sounded like he could barely get a breath in. She kept asking him to take breaths, and he seemed like he was trying, albeit failing. A hand to his forehead confirmed that he definitely felt warmer. Towel, where was his cool towel. He was hot and sticky. 

“Should I? Do you think she could help?” Angel tensed, looking desperately for his phone. He started searching through his purse, panicking. “I don’t know what’s goin' on, maybe we can take care of this?” He was buying time for his missing phone. He wasn’t going to admit to Charlie that he couldn’t find his phone- could he just ask for Charlie’s phone? He had to get himself together. 

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know if she’ll know what’s wrong, but at least she’s something!” Charlie shook on Alastor’s hand again. She noticed something weird with his vision. He would still glance towards her calls, but for the most part, he seemed fixated on something else. A grimace- an actual grimace, with his only half stitched face- made Charlie’s concern grow. “Angel, I think he might be hallucinating.”

"Ya' think that he has a fever again?" Angel couldn't catch his breath. He looked over at Charlie, still holding Alastor's hand, and gently shushing him. She ran her other hand through his hair, over the tops of his bright red ears, which were pinned back against his head. They were stiff, the deer seemingly trying to lower them even more. Angel was terrified to see him like this. It was wrong. It felt wrong. 

"Oh, I know he does," Charlie didn't miss a beat. She started to dab at his forehead, trying desperately to cool his body off. He wasn't responding much to her speech anymore. She didn't like that. She was trying to piece everything together, when this had started, what made it worse. He had another seizure, that's what triggered this. "That's probably why he's not doing good, Angel. He's probably just very feverish."

"Really?" Angel scoffed. "Ya' don't say! Sorry toots, I didn't mean to say it like that," he had abandoned his search for his phone, deciding to just come to Charlie's side. Alastor looked like he may have been seizing again- or maybe it was just the fever. It was probably just the fever. He snapped his long, white fingers in front of Alastor's face, glad to see his eyes reacting to his snapping. Angel thought he saw some awareness return to his gaze. 

"Hey, Al, there you go. Are you back?" Charlie waved her hand in front of Alastor's face, smiling at his reaction- a nod. That was the most that she had gotten out of him in a while. "Alright, do you know where you're at?" Another nod. "Can you speak?" He shook his head no. Charlie figured as much. She wasn't sure why, but she wasn't going to push anything. She was glad that he was at least aware enough to respond as much as he was. 

Looking over her shoulder, she realized that Angel was gone again. He was digging through his purse again, only to pull out another white bottle. Charlie raised an eyebrow, but Angel dispelled any concern. "Do ya' think that we should give Smiles some Tylenol or somethin'? Maybe that could lower his fever a bit, stop the seizures, ya' know, they definitely seem to be connected."

Alastor started shaking his head violently, leading to looks from both Charlie and Angel. Charlie frowned, looking at the sheer panic in his face. "You know, Alastor, I think it would do a lot of good for you. Look, you stopped coughing, and nothing happened to you when you took the cough medicines! I just- maybe we should wait a little bit, I'm not gonna force you to take anything that you do not want to."

The deer seemed grateful for her, offering a shy smile, and one that seemed genuine. She knew it was genuine. Half of his face wasn't sewed up. Why did he sew up his face, anyways? What could have ever pushed him to do that? He must have noticed the way that she was staring, narrowing his eyes at her. "Oh, sorry Al. I was just, I dom't know, I was just thinking, about things, you know? Sorry."

He pointed a finger towards his lips, tracing the outline of where his smile would usually be. Charlie hated that he had noticed her staring. She didn't want to make him self conscious, well, any more self conscious than he already was. He was already probably beyond embarrassed, having everyone staring at him, in this state, so sick, so helpless. Anything could harm him, if they wanted to. 

A hand over his head made Charlie concerned. Oh, that rash was still there. That wasn't what he was pointing to, though. He wasn't really pointing at anything, more just vaguely holding his head. She did not want him going into another seizure. She had just broken the last one. He seemed a little frustrated, turning his head to look out one of the windows, smiling at the light shining through onto his pale face. 

"Ah, here we go!" Angel pulled another vial out of his purse. She wondered how much medication this man had on him- they would have to do a purse check soon. It wasn't that she didn't trust him with all of those medicines, but, well, yeah, she didn't trust him with them. "It's a fever reducer- it's old timey, too! Don't ask me where I got this babe, but I think Al would like this better than the modern stuff."

Charlie noticed Alastor's eyes widen. No, he was definitely not more into that. He gave her a very panicked look, his breath rushed. At least he had breath to rush now. As Angel shook the bottle, she spoke up, with a weak chuckle. "Angel, I think we should just not give Al any more meds for the moment? Besides, who knows how old that stuff is, or where it has been before you got your hands on it."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Ya' loss. I think it could really help Al- uh, is Al ok?" The spider's eyes quickly shot over to where Charlie was sitting, hand locked into Alastor's he was squeezing it, and hard. He was hyperventilating. It almost seemed like he was having a panic attack. Maybe he was. Charlie seemed to notice Alastor's eyes unfocusing. Here we go again. "Ya' know what, maybe I'll just call Rosie."

"Please do," Charlie encouraged. She was beginning to cry- she knew she shouldn't be crying. This was not the time for tears. Something about mortality being right up in her face, it was horrifying in a way that she couldn't explain. Even if Alastor couldn't die from this, seeing him in such a state was absolutely terrifying. "Angel, just, please ask if she could pick up any more medicine or something. I don't know. We need something."

"What," Angel teased, trying to bring humor back into the moment. That's what he liked to do. That's how he was going to face this. But, he couldn't dwell on it for too long. Alastor was hyperventilating just a few seconds ago, and now he seemed completely unresponsive again. He knew what was going on, judging by Alastor's jerky hand motions. "Do ya' not trust me? Ya' know what, now's not the time. I'mma call her."

Rosie was walking through the streets of Cannibal Town, heading off to the Medicinal And Magical Pharmaceuticals shop. This store was the key to getting Alastor's staff back. That's where Caroline worked tirelessly on it- after all, Rosie had some strings to pull. Louis would be sitting at the front desk, as always. He tended to get ahead of himself. She didn't take what he said too seriously. She just needed Caroline. 

Swinging the door open, she greeted the cannibal man with a warm smile. She looked at all of the little trinkets decorating the front desk, which was also full of old newspapers. These had to at least have been from the 1970s. Oh, much simpler times. Alastor had his staff by then, and everything was going well. Now, she desperately needed this staff back in Alastor's possession. 

"My dearest Rosie," the man said, spinning around in his chair. "What can I do for ya'? Oh, let me assume, ya' comin' to check on the staff of that little friend of ya', aren't ya'?" Rosie hated the way in which he winked at her. He could drive her insane sometimes- he almost reminded her of that Angel Dust, with all of his innuendo. But, of course, in a much more classy way. He was a cannibal, one would never expect anything but class. 

"Don't you know me well, Louis," she said, leaning over the counter top. She held her head in her hands, waiting for Louis to make a move. He didn't. "Could you go get you wife for me? I'mma need someone to talk to of course!" She thanked him as he walked off, tipping his hat to her as he did so. He returned quickly, interlocking arms with his wife. Her face lit up at the sight of her friend. 

"Hello there Rosie! Comin' to check on Al's staff?" The woman wore a long pink dress, with a beautiful white sunhat with a pink bow. Rosie needed to pay a visit to Caroline's dressmaker. She had long, strawberry blond curls which framed her face. She took Rosie's hands in hers, looking at them anxiously. "Now Rosie, I don't want ya' to double kill me or nothin', and if you must just please don't eat my meat, but, I may have some bad news."

"Not another setback," Rosie's tone became much more serious as Caroline squeezed her hands tightly. "Well, that's alright, we will get by. That's what we do, my dear, isn't it? What's with it now, though? Are you just having problems gettin' the magic to take right? I'm sure I could figure something out, I think Pierre could prolly help out. I could pull some strings, get some extra angels' meat, he'd do it."

"Well, it's not that simple," Caroline responded. "Look, we've already been to Pierre, we've already been to Juliette, goodness knows she makes the best staffs and accessories in town. We can't get that shape right, we can't get it to be just like his old one. And we all know that Alastor, don't we Rosie. That staff was his baby. He ain't gonna take a new one that's different. He loved it more than the afterlife itself."

"Some staff is better than no staff, I suppose," Rosie knew Alastor. She knew that he wouldn't be very thrilled with the concept of a slightly different staff, but it was better than nothing. It was only a matter of time before something happened, and they would actually have to force him into taking medicines. If he wound up at the hospital, he would have to take medicine. She didn't want to force him. "We'll figure it out, darlin'."

The door swung open behind Rosie, the woman turning to notice a small figure appearing in the doorway. She had a cane of her own, and her neck was adorned by a fox. Oh, great. Her again. Rosie tried to keep her smile on her face, but she was finding it particularly difficult, considering who had just walked in. "Oh, hello there Susan," she said, placing her hands in front of her. "How may I help you today?"

Susan grumbled in reply, leaning on her cane for extra support. Her glasses were lopsided, forcing Rosie to restrain herself from laughing. "You've been gone for what, how long now how's it been since the Extermination? I don't know what you're doin', but if you don't get your pretty little behind back here soon, I'm gonna have to make a run at mayor, don't you say, Caroline?" 

Her phone began to ring in her pocket. When she checked on it, she saw that it was from a number that she didn't recognize. She almost hung up, generally not answering unknown numbers- she was an overlord, after all. She was constantly invited to this event and that and attempts to scam her were constant. But something told her to answer. "Hello, Overlord Rosie speaking, how may I help you?"

A frantic voice greeted her on the other side of the line. "Rosie! Oh, thank goodness ya' answered, it's me, Angel Dust, somethin' is wrong with Alastor, I dunno, he's seizin' again I think, Charlie said his fever is up, I don't know what to do!" Angel Dust. He sounded terrified. "I'm sorry if ya' in the middle of somethin', but just, what do we do, we really need to know, I don't know what to do anymore."

"What kinda mayor takes a call from someone she prolly doesn't know, while talkin' to one of her constituents?" Susan was grumpy as always, despite the looks from Caroline which told her that now was not the time. "Please don't tell me that this is about your little hotel again. It is, ain't it! Your little hotel and your little deer buddy," Caroline's face shifted into a vague threat, telling Susan that she needed to shut her flesh eating mouth. 

"Angel, ok, don't panic, take a deep breath my love," Rosie tried to be as encouraging as possible, worried that something was going to happen to Angel at this point. He sounded like he was on the verge of passing out. "Baby, can you say what's happenin' with him? You said somethin' is wrong, is he just, you know what I mean," she didn't want to mention the seizures in front of Susan. At that point, she might as well tell all of the town. 

"I don't think he's breathin'," Angel said, much to Rosie's panic. Before she could respond, he cut himself off. "No, he's breathin', Charlie said he's breathin', he's breathin', I just, his fever's up, he ain't answerin' her no more, Rosie, could ya' come over here again? I'm sorry, we should be able to handle this on our own, we can prolly do this," he sounded desperate. Rosie didn't like desperate. 

"There's no need to handle it on your own. I'll be right on my way over, ok? Let me hang up so I can teleport, I don't know how well I could teleport bein' on the phone," she listened for Angel's response, before returning to comfort him. "I promise you that he is gonna be ok. We're gonna get through this, no matter how hard it is," whether she was reassuring herself or Angel, she had no idea.

"Here she goes again! I knew it was somethin' with her new little friends," Susan laughed. She stood back up, leaning only one arm on her cain now, and walked over towards the bookshelf, one full of different magic spells, mostly involving various and sundry parts of sinners. "I will never understand that Rosie. Sellin' out Cannibal Town, probably just to help that little dear boy!" Rosie just ignored her comments.

"Could ya' maybe pick up some medicines or somethin' while ya' there?" Angel asked, his voice shaking again. "I don't know, Charlie won't lemme give him the medicines that I have. I have some old timey fever reducers and things, perfect for Al, I really think that would help him. I'm not genius but I really do think that the fever ain't helpin' his seizures," Rosie's eyes widened. Some things were clicking in her brain. 

"Well, Angel, let's just hold our horses there," she replied. "If I need some medicine I could always summon it over. Perks of bein' an overlord and all. But Charlie's right, how about you keep your little walking medicine cabinet to yourself. I'm definitely not gonna make Alastor take anything that he doesn't wanna," Rosie felt her heart sink. Oh. Another realization hit her. She sucked on her lips. 

"Caroline, I'm so sorry, but I think I must go. I have very important matters to attend to. I hope you have yourself a very lovely day," Caroline curtseyed as Rosie clicked her phone off, before she turned to face Susan once more. "And you, well, I could wish you a lovely day, but I'm a woman of honor. I don't say things that I don't mean," the last thing Susan saw of Rosie was a middle finger raised to her as she disappeared off into her smoke. 

Chapter Text

Rosie wouldn't admit it, especially to Charlie or Angel, but she was terrified. Getting a call saying that her Hell son wasn't breathing, even if she was quickly told otherwise, was horrifying. She wanted to pretend like she knew what was wrong, and why Alastor was getting so bad, and why he couldn't stay out of a seizure. She would have to figure that out once she got there. For now, she just had to breathe.

Breathing, in and out, in and out. She always had to breathe slowly and carefully when she was teleporting, to avoid getting the thick, black smoke into her lungs. It wouldn't hurt her, but it was still uncomfortable. Once she felt herself land in Alastor's bedroom, she waved her hands around as frantically as possible, trying to clear all of it out. She wanted to see Alastor. 

The deer's body was quickly visible. He was holding Charlie's hand, the princess not even noticing that Rosie had appeared in the room. She was rubbing his hand gently, attempting to encourage him back to consciousness. She could see it in his face. He was definitely in a seizure again, judging by the snapping of his lips, and twitching of his unoccupied hand. A cool towel lay on his forehead, with an ice pack resting on top.

Angel Dust fidgeted anxiously with his thumbs, staring at Rosie as she appeared. He had his pink purse over his shoulder, and held up his phone close to his chest. Oh, he seemed scared. Rosie knew that she should have stayed behind. She shouldn't have gone to check on that staff, even though that was the ultimate hope right now. That staff. That staff that Alastor wouldn't want, if it wasn't exactly the same as his old one. 

"Hello darlin's!" Rosie tried to sound as happy as she could, clearing out the last bits of smoke as she walked towards the bed. Alastor didn't look so feverish anymore. It was probably the ice take its effect. For once, she was thankful for the King, even though she hadn't forgiven him for what happened the other day. They were lucky that Alastor returned from the V Tower ok. "Al's seizin' again I see?"

"Yea, it's- he's not doing so well." Charlie laughed nervously. She liked holding Alastor's hand, after all, it wasn't like a conscious Alastor would give her this option, but she didn't have much choice, either. He had her in the same death grip that he had on Vox. Oh well. She wasn't going to complain. Part of her knew that doing it to Vox was maybe out of spite. Maybe he was asking for her help. "Do you have any clue what's wrong?"

Sighing, Rosie shook her head. She sat in the chair next to the bed, looking into his eyes. He was gone. His face was still partially unstitched from the events from earlier- was that only today? Time felt like it was moving in slow motion. The sun hadn't even set in Cannibal Town yet. She wished that she could just get Alastor off to sleep. He was exhausted, which was only making everything worse. 

Everything was making everything worse. Alastor was trapped in a viscous cycle. First, he wasn't sleeping, which led to him getting sick. The fever caused him to have a tonic clonic seizure, which would take everything out of anyone. That added a stressor for him. The stress plus the exhaustion, in addition to the sickness, caused another, albeit smaller, seizure. Sleep was probably the only way to break this. 

"So, could everyone give me a rundown of what happened here?" Rosie asked, brushing the loose strands of hair off of Alastor's face. Maybe it was just the coolness of the ice, but he felt a lot better than before, at least to the touch. "He actually looks like he's breathin' pretty good right now, thankfully. Angel, mister, you really gave me a good scare with what you said on your phone call."

"Sorry about that," he shyly replied. "I just, Rosie, it was bad. Ya' left, Vaggie got Smiles to sleep, he started talkin' nonsense in his dreams, Husk came in here to try and figure out what he was sayin', 'cause it was in French. Vagatha nearly passed out, so Charlie got her lesbian off to bed, he was weird for a minute, he came back and was doin' great, then he couldn't breathe, he was hyperventilatin', I dunno what happened, then this."

"I see," Rosie didn't like the sound of that. She didn't like the sound of any of this. At least he was cooling off. That was probably the most important thing right now. There was a bit of a strange redness on his face, and it wasn't warm. Odd. "Hey Angel, may I ask if you know why he started hyperventilatin'? Was Al upset about somethin'? I promise I won't judge you if he was."

After seeing Angel's tentativeness, Charlie answered for him. "Not really. He was doing pretty good actually for a while there. He was awake, talking with us, all of that stuff. We even gave him some medicine as a cough suppressant. He was coughing pretty bad. But the medicine helped! Then Angel was going to try to give him some fever reducers. He even found some weird old stuff but I didn't think that was a good idea."

A knowing smile crept across Rosie's face. "Oh," she seemed to know something that the others didn't. "Things are clickin', I'll tell you that! You said he was given a cough suppressant, huh?" The other two nodded. "I see, I see. Thanks for doin' that, my loves. But, uhm, you do know that some cough suppressants and stuff have things in it that can make seizures worse, right?"

Charlie and Angel's jaws dropped. Well, that would explain why he got worse all of the sudden. They looked at each other, then back at the deer. He was now perfectly still, even if he was still unconscious. They had screwed up. Big time. "I am so, so sorry," Angel said. He sounded like he was about ready to burst into tears. He took Rosie's hands into his own, gently rubbing them. "I didn't know, I was just tryin' to help!"

Rosie nodded. "I know, and it's ok, Angel. It wasn't necessarily a bad decision. We can't have him hackin' up a left lung, either! Coughin' could make it hard to breathe, and if he can't breathe right, or is hyperventilatin', like you said, that could lead to more seizures, too. It's really a lose-lose, isn't it? It sucks, he deserves better. I'm surprised you even got him to- wait, what else did you say you were tryin' to give him?"

"Just a fever reducer," Angel explained. "At first it was a pill, a modern pill, but Al didn't like that. Again, like ya' said, I'm surprised he took one earlier! But when he said no, I found him so all old timey cough syrup thing, I dunno how good it would've been, but it was at least somethin', ya' know, to get his fever down. He didn't take either of those, though. Prolly good I take it?"

"Hello?" Alastor cut off Rosie before she could get to answering Angel's question. He pulled his hand out of Charlie's, flexing it. Every muscle in his hand was cramped up from how tightly he was holding onto the Princess. His eyes were still hazy, and he gave a frog blink towards Rosie. He looked exhausted- just how Rosie wanted him. "Please don't tell me that I went out again. I know I did, who am I kidding?"

"You did, babe, but that's alright," Rosie gently rubbed his cheek. He looked so tired. "Do you think that you could try to get some sleep right now? I think that's the best way to keep you goin'," when she noticed him scratching his cheek, she cocked her head. "Al, do you know if you're allergic to somethin'? Angel gave you a pill, and I think it made your seizures worse. Maybe you're allergic, too?" He just shrugged back.

"At least it was just the cough pill, am I right?" Angel joked. The spider must have been doing better- he was trying to drag some comedy back into it. "Glad he didn't take the fever stuff! It had prolly been in Hell since 1932! Maybe even longer, who knows? Some good old fashioned syrup, right Al? Just the way you like it, old fashioned?" Angel stopped laughing when he noticed Alastor's face go to panic. 

"I still have a fever," he muttered to Rosie. His words were slurred, but she understood him just fine. She nodded back, continuing to play with his ears. His eyes widened, his hand shaking a little. "I've been- these dreams, these hallucinations, almost, they are killing me, Rosie. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that I had seen my papa in this room earlier," he stopped talking, his ears going flush against his head. 

"Baby, come on, you're good," Rosie was gentle with him, stroking his head as lovingly as she could. She saw it in his eyes, just how nervous he was. She knew what was going on. "Al, baby, you're still a bit delirious. Like you said, you're havin' a fever. I got you babe. He's not here anymore. He can't hurt you. Personne ne peut te faire de mal, Alastor. Je promets." He seemed to calm down a bit at those words. 

"Should I give him some, maybe?" Angel asked. He started going through his purse again. "Maybe even the modern pills, but even the old fever reducer, ah, what's it called again?"

"No!" Rosie jumped at Alastor's sudden scream. "Non, ne m'oblige pas- I'm sorry. Please don't make me. Wait. I'm losing my mind. I'm sorry," he apologized, first to the cannibal, and then to everyone else. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok Alastor. Don't be sorry. Respirez profondément, je ne laisserai rien t'arriver," she was gentle with him, pulling a light blanket over him. She must have felt at least somewhat comfortable with where his fever was at. She still left the ice on his head. "Do you think you could sleep now, darlin'? Get some shut eye? Goodness knows how much you need it right now," she closed his eyelids with her fingers. 

"Well, I suppose I should, shouldn't I?" Alastor giggled a bit, turning his head over. Charlie hopped off the bed, wanting to leave the deer with some room to sleep. "I don't think I will get to sleep very easily, my deer," he said. Rosie rolled her eyes, dismissing his words with a wave. Sure enough, within just a minute or so, he was gently snoring. He seemed peaceful. No one wanted to talk, as to not disturb him. 

Finally, Angel broke the silence. "May I ask what happened there?" With one of his lower hands, he motioned towards Alastor. "I think I mighta screwed up a bit, was somethin' in the fever syrup- he started hyperventilatin' when I mentioned that earlier. And, like you said, he breathes weird, and then he starts seizin'. Was there somethin' 'bout that, was there somethin' with that, if you don't mind me askin'? Maybe it's not my place."

Rosie stuck a finger up to her mouth, telling Angel to quiet down. She didn't want to wake him up, and freak him out. "Angel, you know about how his seizures started, right? You know the story," after he nodded, she took a deep breath. "Well, uhm, hun. His papa did a lot of things that he shouldn't have done. He blamed Al for them, and, well, whatever. I'm just glad that you didn't give it to him."

Charlie whimpered loudly, realizing exactly what had happened. She replayed what Alastor had said. She suddenly felt like she was going to become ill. "Please don't tell me that he- the medicine was a trigger, wasn't it?" She brought a hand up to her mouth, not even noticing Rosie's nod. She lurched forward, trying to breathe through her nose, and to keep herself calm. Angel patted her back. "I didn't know."

He sure felt dumb. That medicine probably would bring back a lot of bad memories on a good day, but on a day like today, with Alastor burning up with fever, with him seemingly hallucinating on and off, with him having nightmares every time he slept- oh. "I didn't know," Angel began to cry, too. Rosie encouraged him, but he wasn't listening too hard. No wonder why he was so freaked out. "In his sleep- he mentioned his papa."

"Al sure likes to do that," Rosie looked at the deer, a loving expression across her face. Her eyes definitely looked heavy, too. She was exhausted. At least Alastor didn't seem upset anymore. He was breathing normally, and didn't appear to be having any sort of bad dreams. Progress. That's what Rosie liked to call it. Progress. Even if it was a small step, it was a step in the right direction. 

"Look, I'm not callin' myself a good man," Angel said, "but the gall of that man to do- that. What did he find in it? What did, what was the purpose of triggerin' seizures in what, a child? Al couldn't have been that old! And he was forced to do it? Rosie, the medicine!" He pulled the bottle out of his purse as he spoke, checking the label. "Rosie, there's alcohol in here! I didn't even check. Wait. A trigger," Angel felt ill now, too.

"You didn't know," Rosie tried to keep herself calm. She wasn't blaming Angel, that was for sure. He was really trying to help. The poor spider was just trying to help. She was honestly glad at the progress that Alastor was apparently making, taking a pill at all. "So, Charlie, how is that girlfriend of yours doin'? Angel said that you got her off to bed. That was prolly good, poor thing didn't look so hot," Charlie liked Rosie's care. 

Before the Princess had a chance to answer, however, Rosie's phone rang again. Judging by Rosie's expression, it seemed pretty urgent. She put it on speakerphone, but quiet enough as to not disturb Alastor. "Hey hun! It's Caroline!" The voice on the other side of the line said. "Got good news for ya', Rosie dearest! That staff should be ready by first thing tomorrow mornin', for my second favorite man, only behind Louis!"

Everyone smiled at that news. "That's wonderful Caroline," Rosie replied. "Al's been sick all day today. He's got himself a fever, you know how stubborn that boy of ours can be. He's gonna be so happy for that staff. I know it's gonna be a little different, but he'll make do," she wasn't sure if he'd make do. "Just double checkin', maybe we can get an appointment only for us? Don't need all of Cannibal Town seein' this!"

"I promise ya', Rosalind! Just, ya', me, Alastor, and maybe Louis. Or whoever else Alastor wants to bring. Ya' know what I say, privacy is the best policy! On that thought, we prolly shouldn't bring Louis. Goodness knows my hubby, bless him, but he can't keep a good secret for nothin'! But I promise ya', this stays between us," she sounded genuinely happy to be helping Alastor out. At least she was trying.

"Good then," Rosie said, pulling her phone down. "Well, I'll see you sooner rather than later! Alastor's gonna be so happy with that staff. Thank you!" She clicked her phone off, her smile a mile wide. Alastor stirred a little in his sleep, causing every eye in the room to dart towards him. He gagged a little, muttering something in French. "Al, baby, I'm right here, nothin's happenin' to you," she encouraged. 

The deer calmed down after that, offering Rosie a smile, even if he wasn't fully aware of it. She was so glad to see him calming down. Things would get better come the morning. "Hey Rosie," Charlie interrupted, "what did you mean, saying that it's going to be a little bit different? Alastor doesn't like differences. I'm sure you know that already, but, you know!" She tried to laugh it off, but she was genuinely nervous. 

Rosie giggled at that. "Yeah, don't worry, I already know that one! Trust me, that's my Al. He doesn't take differences well. I haven't seen the staff, it's gonna be a grand reveal! But, yeah, Caroline said it's gonna look a little different, but don't you worry, that magic will be the exact same. Startin' tomorrow, things should get better, shouldn't they?" She clasped her hands together in anticipation. 

After a few more moments of silence, Angel spoke up again, feeling tension growing in his stomach. "Rosie, the staff is gonna work, right? I know ya' said that the magic is gonna be the same, but ya' know me, I'm a worrier, ain't I, toots?" Charlie nodded in agreement, also motioning to herself. She to was a worrier, especially about Alastor. "I mean, as long as he's got a microphone, and healing magic, it's gonna be good, right?"

With a smile, Rosie reached out to take a hand from Charlie, and one from Angel. "I know you're worried, Angel. I worry too, sometimes. There's no reason to be worried about this, however. It might take him a minute, but once he gets that staff, we can work on gettin' him back to normal. Prolly can't fix the angelic wound, but Mr. Morningstar could prolly do that. Startin' tomorrow, we're on the road to recovery!"

Chapter Text

Going to get the staff- this was the moment that Alastor had been waiting for. He had been waiting for this for weeks. This was the beginning of the healing process, as well as the end of it. One touch of his staff, and everything would be better. Healing magic aside, he missed it. He missed his comfort staff, even if he wouldn't admit it. He wasn't sure why it was so comforting, but it was. 

Part of him was worried that it wouldn't work- that was silly. Of course it would work. It was magic, it would work. It wasn't medicine. That was one of the big differences between magic and medicine. Magic was acquired through his strengths. He had to remind himself of that. It was a gift for the strong, not an aid for the weak, as his father had suggested. He had forgotten about his father's words. 

That dream was sticking in his head, more than it should have been. He had forgotten what his papa had said about his staff. He felt a little uncomfortable at the suggestion. He felt even more uncomfortable as he stood there in the hotel foyer, leaning down on his cane, only to realize that it was definitely not there. Even if he could stand on his own just find, it was still a comfort. He was the Radio Demon. Why did he seek such a comfort. 

Alastor felt like he truly was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Was he weak enough to be taking advice for his sad excuse of a papa, or was he weak enough to be relying on artificial things to heal him? The seizures weren't all that bad. Being sick wasn't fun, but this was Hell. If he wanted a great afterlife, he wouldn't have acted the way that he did. He loved this afterlife, even if the magic made it easier to handle. 

Despite knowing that he still had a fever- he could feel it burning through his bones- he did his best to hide it. He awoke before Rosie did, and got ready for the trip to Cannibal Town. He did his best to wipe the sweat off of his face, and brush his hair nicely. He knew that he should have sat with some ice for just a bit longer, but he really would be fine. Once he got that staff, this fever would dissipate. He couldn't wait. 

Here he was again, waiting on his staff to make himself feel better. He was the Radio Demon, why didn't he just feel better at the drop of a hat. He needed to figure that out. Healing magic was silly anyways. He wouldn't be here without it. But that didn't make it less silly. Rosie would hate him for thinking like this. She always reminded him that he needed to accept his magic for it to work. He didn't want to accept it, but he would have to. 

"Are you ok, Al?" Charlie asked. She was smiling, reaching her hand out to him. Oh, he must have gotten lost in thought again. It was tricky to focus when feverish. Alastor was actually pretty confident that his fever was going up, but he didn't care. He just needed his staff, even if it made him weak. Alastor couldn't be weak. He was staring again, wasn't he. She was going to think he was seizing. Great. 

"Sorry my dear, but I am splendid! Very excited for this grand occasion, are you not?" Alastor leaned towards her, to grab her hand back, but a wave of dizziness hit him, along with a sudden flash of a headache. Not now. He had to get to Cannibal Town. He had to get his staff. He really didn't feel like another seizure. He stumbled forward a little, practically being caught by Rosie. At least it was just her and Charlie there. 

"We need to get you back to Cannibal Town, mister," Rosie gently teased. He had stabilized himself for a moment, before practically falling into her arms again. "You are warm again, Alastor! Seriously! I thought you was gettin' better! Oh well, that's what we're gettin' that staff for, right?" Alastor hummed along, feeling a bit more dazed than usual. It would only be a few minutes. And then everything would be alright. 

"Agreed," Charlie said. She pulled Rosie into an embraced, and pulled Alastor along with her. The three of them were all huddled together, trying to be as close to each other as possible. Rosie snapped her fingers, letting a push of smoke come over them. Everyone that she held onto went with her. By the time everyone opened their eyes, they were definitely not at Caroline's. Alastor groaned. He didn't feel like a walk. 

"Now Al, if you need to get teleported, let me know," Alastor shook his head. He wasn't going to tell Rosie that he couldn't walk that far. They weren't all that far from the shop anyways. It would be nice if he had some staff with him, but he would be fine as long as someone kept in front of him, and as long as Rosie didn't stop for a chat with half of the town. That part would be pretty difficult. 

Somehow, they had almost made it all the way to the shop- Alastor could even see the sign for the Medicinal and Magical Pharmaceuticals Shop in his line of sight. "Oh my stars! No way! Marie? How are you?" Rosie had stopped to talk. Great. She welcomed a cannibal into her arms, squeezing her in her embrace. Rosie did give good hugs, but Alastor didn't feel like sitting here and waiting for Rosie's chat to end. 

Charlie seemed to notice Alastor's discomfort, and tried to grab Rosie's attention, but it backfired. "Marie, this is Charlie. I think you prolly saw her at the Extermination! She's our might fine Princess here, and such a sweet young lass, too! Charlie, this is Marie. One of the sweetest ladies in the whole town, and not in the tasty way. How's the wifey doin'?" Alastor needed to get going. He felt like a child waiting for his mother to stop talking.

After what seemed like hours, Rosie finally waved goodbye to her friend. Alastor felt like he was about to faint. Thankfully, he didn't feel like he was on the verge of a seizure anymore. No, now he just felt like his legs were going to give out on him, and like the next shiver up his spine was going to shake him to the ground. He didn't even fully notice the other two women walking away, until Charlie got concerned. "Al, are you ok?"

He knew that he needed to stop getting lost in his thoughts, and in his dizziness, and in his chills. Without answering, he started walking with them, reaching an arm out to Charlie's shoulder. His legs were wobbly. "I'm fine, sorry," he wondered if maybe something to drink would help. He was sure Caroline would have something, but Charlie probably wouldn't want him drinking it in front of her. 

"No sorries," Charlie smiled. She opened the door to the shop, the curtain over its window drawn. She held it for the two cannibals, both giving her a small bow of the head as they walked in. The chimes on the door rung, but, much to Charlie's surprise, no one was reacting. Rosie wasn't saying hello to anyone. Rosie always said hello to everyone. "Uh, Rosie? You good over there?" She asked. 

"Louis? Caroline?" Rosie sounded nervous as she entered into the empty shop. "I know someone's in here, your sign may say closed but I know that someone is always here for Rosie," Charlie wondered if that was a threat. She wasn't going to ask any further questions. She needed to not be so inquisitive. Even if she was the Princess, she didn't trust a cannibal to not get all weird about things. "Where are yous?"

"There's gotta be someone here," now Rosie was sounding nervous. She took it upon herself to walk behind the counter, looking underneath it, like one of them would be hiding under there. In all fairness, Charlie hadn't seen them. Maybe they were short. Rosie pushed away the pink and white striped curtain that lead to the back room, before she audibly gasped. "Me oh my, look who decided to fancy themselves to a visit today!"

Even though Charlie didn't know exactly who to expect, she didn't expect who she saw. She wondered if maybe it would be Susan, or some other annoying cannibal. But no. When she looked over Rosie's shoulder, peeking into the back room, she saw a very distinctive blue glow. No. There was no way he was here. The curly red hair next to him confirmed her worries. "Vox? Velvette? Why are you here? Get out!"

Vox spun around, a nail file in his grasp. "Oh, hello Princess! Did you see what they have here? Bone marrow nail files! Miss Pretty Pants over here won't do it, but whatever," he started to walk towards her, dragging Velvette with him. Rosie waved them on, encouraging them to take it out front. She wanted a fight. Charlie wasn't sure if she wanted a fight. Alastor seemed far too dizzy to be in the middle of this. 

Rosie laughed, patting the top of Vox's TV head as he walked out. She didn't do the same to Velvette- it almost seemed like she respected her a bit more. She wasn't happy with her, but she respected her. Interesting. "Vox gave a glitchy smile towards her. "You called your little friend about Alastor's staff. She has a VoxTek phone! Anyways, we're here for the staff," she clapped his hands together, blood dripping from his mouth. 

"Caroline, Louis, I advise that you leave," Rosie gave the couple a stern, but yet warm, look. She didn't want them caught up in the crossfire. Making sure Vox and Velvette couldn't see, she mouthed "take the staff, too," towards them. The nodded, as Louis began to shuffle around in some things. They had kept the staff safe- but as she got her first glance at it, she noticed just how different it looked. Alastor wouldn't like that. 

"We're gonna make this easy on you," Velvette said, pushing herself onto the desk behind her. Her curls bobbed back and forth. Rosie stayed unbothered. "So, find us this staff, and we can all go in peace. Otherwise, we're gonna have to make this difficult. Unlike you, we do not take pleasure in such things," Velvette giggled, her eyes scanning over the wide array of parts of sinners in the store. 

"What is wrong with you two?" Charlie began to sound furious. Her demon horns began to sprout from her head, and her scleras changed color. She narrowed her eyes at the two demons standing in front of her. She didn't even notice that Alastor was struggling to stay on his feet behind her. Despite the reason why they were there, everyone had pretty much forgotten about Alastor. This was a declaration of war. 

"Besides the deer boy's head itself, Al's staff is the coolest little trophy that we can get!" Vox was laughing, still filing his nails with that stupid file. Rosie was tempted to grab it from his hand and eat it in front of him, just to see his reaction. How Vox was even able to eat, if he was even able to eat, she didn't know. But she did know how good bone marrow would taste right now. "You don't understand all of the cool perks of it!"

"Perks? Oh please, Vox. Perks don't even begin to tell the whole story!" Velvette kicked her legs up on the desk next to her. Rosie grunted, fighting every urge in her body from pushing her right off of where she was sitting. Cannibal Town was a place of class and dignity. Sitting on the counter was bad enough, but putting her feet up there, with her shoes on- that was unforgivable. "But carry on!"

"It's really fun to humiliate Bambi," Vox teased. He stepped closer to Alastor, but Charlie and Rosie both blocked him. He was clearly off limits. He was standing there, giving him a blank stare, fighting every urge in his body to allow himself to faint. He felt like he was going to faint. The room was warm. It was making everything worse. "And Velvette wants some of the magic in it! I don't know what she'll do with it, but we all have our reasons."

"Too bad, Velvette," Rosie grunted. Charlie reeled back, seeing something that she had never seen before- a truly angry Rosie. She had thought that she had seen the cannibal woman angry before, but this was different. She raised her palms, small fireballs coming out of them. Smoke was coming out from under her hat. It appeared that Rosie had a demon form, too. "You will not get your prissy little hands on Alastor's staff."

The TV Demon rolled his eyes. "Here we go again, Vel. Your little part in this plan is the one getting our heads nearly bitten off. Maybe you should have put your own little desires aside, and let me handle this whole thing," he fixed his lapels, turning towards the demon on the counter. Rosie stopped looking so demonic- she had a plan, and Charlie knew exactly what it was. It already seemed to be working. 

Velvette scoffed. "Oh, please. You're the one who has sexual fantasies about hurting this man! The only reason I want him dead is so that you'd stop complaining about trying to get it off to him! But then again, you'd probably be throwing a tizzy every day for the rest of your life if you didn't have your deer boy toy! I am more than capable of doing what I need to do without his silly stick," it was definitely working.

"Oh come on! What are you doing? I'm gonna make some pretty dresses for the princesses of the Pentagram," he was mocking her. Velvette wasn't the type to take kindly to mocking. 

"You couldn't get anyone to like you anyways if you didn't have your hypnosis! I at least have natural talent, unlike someone else here!" Rosie couldn't help but laugh at Velvette's response. 

"Could we please get back on topic here?" Vox flashed a glance at Alastor, and then back at Velvette. She was now scrolling through her phone absentmindedly, clearly just trying to get on Vox's nerves for not paying attention to him. He didn't like when someone wasn't paying attention. "Bambi doesn't look too hot over there, anyways. Come on Vel. Let's get this staff and get out of this stupid town. It's gross."

"How dare you call Cannibal Town gross!" Rosie yelled, before taking a deep breath. She couldn't give Vox the satisfaction of actually getting to her. "You do realize how much better it is than your stupid area. We don't have naked demons fornicatin' on every corner of every street, we don't have joints layin' around, we are a respectful, classy bunch. Unlike you and the girl whose shoes are on the counter! You're banned from here, anyways!" 

"Rosie is right," the door opening behind her startled Charlie, and it revealed a familiar, yet unmotivated, figure. She had seen her a few times, even if they hadn't talked much. "Vox, you know that you are strictly banned from Cannibal Town. Rosie went through the painstaking process of banning you from her territory years ago. Come on, get out before I have to resort to worse means," Rosie smiled at the sight of Carmilla Carmine. 

"What are you doing here?" Vox was incredulous. He slammed a hand against the desk behind him, his face glitching for a moment. The blood returned to dripping down his mouth, and Velvette finally looked up from her phone. Rosie's orders against Vox didn't apply to her, but she was interested. She also thought it was a little funny to see Vox getting owned by the leader of the meetings. That was the job that she wanted one day. 

From behind Carmilla came another figure, one so tall he had to crouch down to get through the door. He was the other half of this overlord leadership, at least in the Pride Ring. It was Zestial. He, just as much as Carmilla, wasn't a fan of either of the Vs. However, while he appreciated Carmilla's kindness towards him, he figured that he could handle Velvette's issues on his own. "How goes't, fools, ye inane sinners?" 

Rolling her eyes, Velvette groaned. "Oh come on, we really don't have the time for all your silly antics and your fancy words. I do not have to leave the establishment, let us be clear, but I will- for you. The things I do to keep this TV muppet out of trouble," she sighed, hopping down from the counter. "Vox, come on. I must ask though, how did you know that we were here? Have you two fossils learned enough modern technology to spy on us?"

"We received information from the owners of this shop," Carmilla replied. She crossed her arms, leaning back into the wall behind her, nearly falling into Alastor. He was far too busy trying to keep himself awake to notice her coming closer to him, and she was far too frustrated to give him the time of day. She yawned, trying to pretend like she didn't care. She did care. In fact, she cared a lot. Just not about Alastor. 

"Art thou alright, mine dearest Alastor?" Zestial wasn't as annoyed. He noticed Alastor standing there, vaguely looking down towards the ground. Everyone, except for Vox, looked back at Alastor, seemingly remembering that he was there for the first time since the Vs were revealed to be in the shop. So much for the privacy that Caroline had promised. Rosie didn't care. Right now, she was worried about the look on Alastor's face. 

"I'm fine," Alastor couldn't explain what he was feeling, but it wasn't good. He felt like his fever was over one million degrees. Everything was spinning, and there were black spots in his vision. It was like everything and everyone sat behind opaque glass. He tried to ask for help, but his body was betraying him, forcing him, and his vocal cords, to be frozen. His head had never hurt this bad. He was delirious with fever. 

"Alastor! What's going on? Are you ok?" Those were the last words that the deer heard, coming out of Charlie's mouth. He felt everything in his body suddenly hurt, a pain that he had never really felt before, or, at least, had ever been conscious for. Charlie and Rosie quickly scrambled to his side as Alastor lost consciousness, his weak, feverish body suddenly going incredibly stiff. He was convulsing again.

Chapter Text

Even though it was just a few steps, Rosie had never moved so fast in her life, or her afterlife. She didn't mean to, but in the process of trying to get to Alastor, she shoved Charlie clean out of the way, causing the Princess to stumble. She didn't seem to mind. She was able to catch him before he hit the hard floor, but not before his head smacked up against the wall behind him. The loud crack caused everyone to jump. 

Once she had him in her arms, she allowed herself to frown. Seeing Alastor like this, no matter how many times that she had to go through it- seeing him like this broke her heart. He was stiff as a board, every muscle in his thin body tensing, like they were on the verge of bursting. Air was forced out of his lungs, causing a sound that made Rosie wince. He would be ok. She just had to remind herself of that. 

As she lowered him to the ground, she suddenly remembered how everyone else was there. It wasn't just her and Charlie, who already had been this. It wasn't even Caroline and Louis, who knew, even if they would be scared. Vox and Velvette were there. They knew about his main type of seizures. They didn't know about these. Carmilla and Zestial didn't know anything at all. They had just thought that he had fainted at the meeting. 

His lips were turning blue- he wasn't taking breaths in. His chest was far too tense to do so. It wasn't long before his body began to convulse, every muscle in his body rhythmically jerking, the deer gasping for air along with each spasm. The unstitched half of his mouth was shaped in a frown, being dragged that way by the convulsions. One of his few remaining stitched popped, resulting in blood beginning to pour from his lips again. 

No matter what, he would be ok. This knowledge allowed Rosie to start thinking ahead about the damage control she would have to do after. There was going to be much to do. She began to remove her hat, folding its brim in on itself, and moving his head so that she could provide some sort of cushion for him, a barrier between his head that he had already hit, and the cold tile of the shop. She needed to think about how to explain this away.

Charlie wasn't so sure that Alastor would be ok. She was panicking. She was panicking so much that the thought of damage control never even crossed through her frenzied mind, forgetting that everyone else was there. She knelt down next to the deer. He was her hotel manager, her coworker, her friend, her Alastor. She had seen him going through this before. Maybe it was just because he was seated, but she swore that this time was worse. 

"Ok. How can I help?" The offer didn't come from Carmilla or Zestial, but rather Velvette, who was now crouched down next to the women and Alastor. Her voice broke the stunned silence, which was previously being interrupted by Rosie's kind shushing. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but this was absolutely terrifying her. And, in a way, this might just have been her fault. She did not want to think about that. 

"What the fucketh is e'en happening?" Zestial asked. He loomed over the trio, his usual height only being exacerbated by the fact that everyone was on the ground. He wasn't a dumb demon- he knew exactly what was going on- but Alastor? Alastor on the ground, having a seizure, that all seemed too odd to be true. He was surprised to see the lack of a smile on his face, but pretty quickly understood its cause. 

"Since when has this been going on?" Carmilla was incredulous as the situation around her finally registered in her mind. She dropped to a knee, her motherly instincts kicking in, and pushing Charlie to the side. The Princess wished that demons would stop moving her. The warlord ran a worried hand over his face. "Oh. He's burning up. Feverish. Probably a febrile seizure. Do you want me to call my daughter Odette? She's a doctor."

"Can someone tell me why Alastor is on the ground, doing that?" Vox tried to sound frustrated at the whole situation, like he had better things to do with his afterlife. He felt a bit weirdly nervous, along with how excited he was feeling. He would be feeling more excited if it was his fault. In a way, it kind of was. He showed up here. "I knew about the whole epilepsy situation, but I didn't expect him to actually do this."

A silence fell upon the room again, with all eyes, besides Charlie's, drifting over to Vox. He stood with his hands behind his back, a smug expression plastered onto his face. He bounced on his heels, watching Carmilla and Zestial exchange looks, like they had just seen a living here in Hell. He was glad to know that they didn't know about his epilepsy. Oops, a fun bomb to drop. Rosie was stunned. "How dare you, Vox?"

He laughed, forcing his way past Zestial to be able to see Alastor. "What, isn't withholding information from our dearest overlords in charge in violation of some codes or laws somewhere?" He reached out to rub Carmilla's back, before realizing that it would be the last mistake he would ever make. "Woah, look! Alastor isn't smiling! It was held on by stitches? Now that was unexpected! He can't even smile without being attached to strings!"

"Don't you dare lay a hand on Zestial!" Carmilla whipped around and stood up, grabbing Vox by the bowtie. "You Vs! Insolent, malditos, pendejos, you fools! You all think you are all that, don't you? Especially your little wannabe princesa! I do not know what makes you all think that you can sass off to those who are older than you and who are more powerful than you! Both of you need to get out before you make this worse!"

"We can fight later, Vox," Velvette intentionally added an extra sound of venom to his name, glaring at him. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Alastor is on the ground, having a seizure! Can you put aside your weird obsession with him for a moment? And if you cannot, why don't you just get out! Just because you want to get in his pants doesn't mean that you can make everything much harder on the rest of us!"

Zestial was surprised by Velvette's outburst. The woman quickly turned back to Alastor, seemingly actually getting along with Rosie, more out of the force of the situation than anything. He turned his green eyes over to Vox, who also seemed quite surprised. His smile was long gone, his eyes shooting between Alastor and Velvette. "I doth apologize for saying this, Carmilla, yet I am afraid that Velvette is in the right. Allow us to argue later."

Carmilla sighed. She wasn't going to fight him on this- or else, she would be just as bad as Velvette, would she not? At least Velvette was trying to help here. She held Rosie's handkerchief snuggly up against Alastor's mouth, attempting to get the wound to stop bleeding. Carmilla watched for a moment, trying to keep tears from forming in her eyes. She hated Alastor, why did she care? "Alright. Thank you, Zestial."

"His fever is really high still," Charlie whimpered. She pressed the back of her hand up to Alastor's forehead. The convulsions weren't showing any signs of stopping. Tears ran feely down her face, dropping and landing onto Alastor's. At least his lips had turned back to their normal color. He was breathing. That was good. But he was definitely still burning up. "Rosie, should I call Vaggie over here?"

"There's no need to call her. We got this, Charlie. You're doin' great, sweetheart," Rosie tried to stay positive. She tried to stay positive, almost obsessively checking her stopwatch, wincing with every second that ticked by. It had been at least four minutes. He was about to leave her with no other choice than to take him to the hospital. "All we have to do is try to get his fever down. Is there any ice or somethin' around here?"

Charlie shook her head. She wasn't sure. Rosie was the one who ran Cannibal Town. She was about to ask her to summon some, but she realized her fire teleportation powers might not work really well with ice. She probably couldn't even go and get it. Maybe she could teleport Charlie there, teleport herself back, and then let the Princess ride on her dad's wings back into Cannibal Town? Though that would surely cause a lot of commotion.

Just then, Velvette popped up. Everyone was a bit startled by her sudden movement, and how she stepped clean over Alastor, on her way over to Vox. They had a conversation with just their eyes, leaving everyone else to wonder exactly was going on between the two. Finally, she jumped behind him, digging one of her stiletto nails into the back on Vox's TV. Everyone was silent as she pulled a panel off of him. 

"Velvette, what do you think you're doing?" Vox tried to pry her hands off of him, but it wasn't going to work. She clearly had a goal, and as much as Vox was trying to get her away, he clearly didn't want to hurt her. He apparently drew his line at hurting Velvette. Carmilla thought out loud about how that was probably a good idea- she wouldn't trust Velvette, either. But that didn't mean that he wasn't angry. 

"I already let someone die out of my own negligence! I sat back and watched as he died! I did nothing! And let's be honest, I couldn't take living with you for the rest of eternity where all you did is complain about a dead Alastor!" Velvette finally was able to snap something- specifically a box with some tubes attached- out of him, despite his pushback. "Vox! I swear you better chill out!" She looked into his eyes, her own glowing red. 

She placed the box near Alastor's face nervously. She wasn't sure if this was going to do a thing. She panicked. She assumed that some sort of cooling system, even if it was made specifically for technology, would help Alastor at least a bit. He was the Radio Demon, after all. Rosie seemed tentative, although appreciative. "Thank you, doll," she said with a shy smile. "Anythin' helps at this point. I just need it to stop."

Kindly, Zestial placed a hand on Rosie's shoulder. "Is there aught that I doth to help?" He asked, rubbing small circles into her back. Charlie noticed that Rosie was beginning ti look nervous herself, continuously and franticly checking the time. Charlie wondered how long it had been. She could see the time on the watch, but she didn't know exactly when it had started. This seemed much longer than last time. "Rosalind? May I be of assistance?"

"It's been seven minutes!" Rosie answered Charlie's question without the Princess even having to ask. Charlie froze, knowing that this had gone on for too long. As she thought, she noticed Alastor begin to relax underneath her. Rosie relaxed too, breathing a sigh of relief that the seizure was over. The cannibal woman took his hand into hers gently, not wanting to disturb his rest. That was the longest convulsive seizure that he'd ever had. 

"How long hast these events been happening?" Zestial felt a little uncomfortable seeing Alastor like this. Blood was dripping out of his mouth- he couldn't tell if it was from the popped stitches, or if he bit the inside of his cheek, or his tongue. Rosie rolled him onto his side, trying to keep him from choking on any of the blood or saliva. "I be sure that there is healing magic that can help," he offered. Rosie sighed. 

Alastor suddenly tried to sit himself up, clearly still not with it. His eyes were blank and staring straight ahead, as his arms threatened to give out from underneath him. His breathing was gurgled with the amount of blood still in his mouth, causing him to cough, releasing most of it onto his sleeve. He clearly was not with it. A fully aware Alastor would not do such a thing. He also wouldn't react so well to Velvette trying to keep him down. 

With a hand on one of his shoulders, Velvette helped Charlie keep him from getting up. She noticed that there was a small gash on the back of his head, probably from when he cracked it on the wall earlier. She motioned to it, and Charlie nodded, and mouthed her thanks. It wasn't that bad, at least. It looked pretty easily treatable. What wasn't treatable was Alastor overpowering them. Charlie considered having to switch into her demonic form.

"Oh, trust me! That's why we're here!" Vox laughed, finally answering Zestial's question. He was playing a laugh track- one eerily similar to Alastor's- out of his speakers. "His silly little staff is where he holds all of his silly little healing magic. Since it's pretty obvious that Charlie's newly resolved daddy issues won't fix him, it happened on earth. Also, I remember that he used to tell me about his dad hitting him. You get my drift here?"

"Could you shut your mouth for just a second? That's clearly impossible for you gurrupletas anyways," Carmilla huffed. She noticed Alastor's gaze suddenly grow from blank to frightened, leaning back into Charlie's grasp. Rosie held onto his back, trying to keep him from panic. She stared at him like she was trying to burn a hole into him with her eyes. "Vox, you are banned from Cannibal Town, remember? Why are you still here?"

"Well, it's almost like I don't really care, hun," Vox placed a hand over Carmilla's shoulder, causing her to grab him, and push him off. He met Alastor's eyes, taking a bit of pleasure in the frightened deer. "You wanna know some more stuff? I already knew that his smile was stitched on! I lied, because, well, lying is fun. He always has to rely on magic to keep up his appearances. His smile, his health, his everything. What a pathetic little man."

Velvette jumped up, pulling Vox away before he could do anything more. "We better leave before we get in any more trouble than we already are," she hissed. Vox was trying to pull away from her, and get a better look at Alastor, who was quite dazed. Her eyes went red again. "Vox, I said, we are leaving, whether you like it or not! You need a new cooler now, anyways. Cheerio!" She shot a look, and a middle finger, at Carmilla as she left. 

Vox was able to get out a few parting words before he was dragged out of the room. "Alastor! Your secret is not safe anymore! If I have my way the entirety of Hell is gonna hear about this! All you are is a pathetic little fawn who relies on his thread and his stick to get stuff done," and with that, Velvette practically slammed the door in his face, the chimes ringing as they left. No one new what to say in response to that. 

Carmilla kept a hand on her hip, and a scowl on her face. "Esos malparidos," she said, holding onto her temples with her other hand. She was tired of the Vs. She needed to do something about them. But right now, she was more concerned for Alastor, who was now limp in Rosie's arms. He appeared to have lost consciousness again. She watched as Rosie grimaced after feeling his forehead again. Carmilla sat down next to the cannibal.

"Would it be best for us to leave?" Asked Zestial. He watched as Rosie ran a hand over Alastor's chest, gently shaking it, attempting to encourage more breaths. Alastor was rolled back on his side, and she gently opened his jaw, trying to let the blood come out. It was definitely coming from the inside of his mouth, as the bleeding on his lips had stopped. Rosie knew that she had to restitch him at some point.

“No, don’t worry yourselves, it’s quite alright,” Rosie offered. She moved the cooler closer to Alastor’s face, before thinking again. She wasn’t sure if she could trust that such a thing from Velvette wouldn’t hurt him. It did come straight out of Vox, but that did not mean that it wasn’t planted there intentionally. “I appreciate it, you two. I just don’t know if I should get him down to the hospital here," she was conflicted.

"We probably should," Charlie was hesitant to speak up, but she did anyways. She gently rubbed behind Alastor's ears, just as she had seen her girlfriend doing. They were hot, sticky, and sweaty. There was no way that all that shaking didn't increase his already elevated body temperature. "Maybe they could pump him full of some magic or something? Alastor needs something. I'm not sure what's wrong with him, but it's not good."

"I just don't think that the hospital is safe, hun," Rosie whispered. She ran her hand over the lower part of his stomach, leading into his chest. That gash from Adam- it had been getting better. It felt worse now. She could almost feel the sting of angelic energy as she touched it. "I wouldn't trust Vox as far as I could throw him, even here in Cannibal Town. Your dad can get rid of angelic wounds, right? I think he could help."

"Don't worry Rosalind. We will find the best imps and hellhounds in all of Hell to guard the hospital. We will make sure that no one gets in or out of that place without your direct consent. There isn't any VoxTek technology inside that hospital, correct?" Carmilla was trying to be as helpful as possible, even if Rosie wasn't the biggest fan of her suggestions. She wasn't going to close down the hospital just for Alastor. 

"There's a ban on Valentino too, right? Velvette isn't banned from Cannibal Town. I ain't shuttin' down the hospital for everyone, just for that. What Al needs right now is some help from some angelic healing, and his staff. He needs his staff back. I worry, Carmilla. I worry that he's not gonna accept his staff. Caroline said it's gonna be a bit different, and he already feels bad," Rosie began to vent, before collecting herself. 

Alastor stirred, trying to wake himself up a bit more. He opened his eyes, briefly a solid shade of red, before returning to their normal state. Everyone gave him an odd look, before they mostly shrugged it off, assuming it was from the seizure still. Everyone besides Charlie. She was frozen, thinking about it. "Al," she asked, angst creeping into her tone, "that with your eyes, that was kinda weird, are you ok?" 

He nodded slowly, still not completely with it. He reached for his head, which felt like it was about to explode from under his skull. "Rosie?" He asked, his voice slurred. His eyes fluttered a little, but he forced himself to stay awake, just enough to ask some questions. He moved his mouth, trying to force words out, for a moment, before finally being able to say them. He groaned. "Is- was Vox here?"

"Never worry, Alastor," Zestial said. His sudden appearance over Alastor frightened him, but he calmed quickly. "He is gone, and he shall not be returning. Now rest thyself, Alastor. Thou art very important to the overlords. Thou must try to get better," he was trying to be encouraging, but his words didn't seem to be clicking to Alastor. Nothing seemed to registering inside his clouded mind. He gently closed his eyes, fading off to sleep.

"Rosie, please remember, if there is anything we can do to help, we will be on call. But Zestial, I think we should go, and leave them with their space," she stood up, taking the other overlord's hand in hers. "I wish you all the best," she said with a wave. Rosie thanked her with a nod, before grabbing one of Alastor's hands, and then one of Charlie's. Despite his fever, she snapped her fingers, taking them away in smoke.

Chapter Text

The next thing Alastor knew, he was opening his exhausted eyes, back in his bed. It was fluffy and warm, and Rosie was laying next to him, scrolling through her phone. He squinted, noticing that she was looking at a recipe for sinners’ meat pie. Oh, how he loved that woman. She loved cooking, just like his maman. Except his maman cooked without the cannibalism, of course. He missed his maman. 

Everything was still bright. At least he hadn’t slept for too long. He didn’t remember exactly what time of day that he had passed out at the shop in Cannibal Town. It couldn’t have been much after noon. He was surprised about just how rested he was feeling, considering that, judging by the lighting, it couldn’t have been much later. He remembered feeling really sick, and then everything went black. 

In truth, Alastor wasn’t actually sure if he even still had a fever. His seizures usually caused fever spikes, not the other way around. He didn’t want to disturb Rosie, so he avoided stretching too much, even though every muscle in his body felt tight and sore. It wasn’t unexpected after such a seizure. His chest seemed to hurt much less, too. He wanted to feel it, but he didn’t want to move.

When he looked over to his bedside table, he noticed something odd. Along with his usual trinkets and knickknacks were an arrange of cards. Some looked handmade, others looked like they were purchased in Cannibal Town. A last one looked definitely odd. His eyes were still blurry from sleep, but he could make out that the last one was definitely different. They were probably people just wishing him well after that. 

Alastor had a hard time recalling all of the details of the incident. He knew that he went to the shop to get his staff, and then wound up feeling ill. He vaguely remembered something with Carmilla, and Zestial, and Velvette. The three of them were definitely an odd assortment of demons to be there. He remembered waking up from a seizure, terrified. He remembered having a nightmare, and then waking up again, in his room. 

Waking up the first time was scary. It was always scary after a tonic clonic. It was especially scary after that one. He didn’t really know why. The next time he woke up, he was at Rosie’s side, just like now. She explained some things to him, but his brain was still foggy from the seizure. That’s what tonic clonics did to him. It took him a few tries of falling asleep and waking up again to return to full clarity.

Looking around, Alastor noticed something. The last time that he woke up in this room, it was darker than this. At first he assumed that Rosie had drawn the curtains and he hadn’t noticed. Rosie was in different clothes. He clearly remembered what she was wearing yesterday- her usual fancy dress. Now she wore a soft nightgown. He had not already slept through the night, there was no way. He had already slept through the night. 

A light squeak of static managed to escape from him after his realization. When he did that, Rosie turned to look at him, a smile crossing her lips at the sight of her fils being awake again. She took one of his hands in hers. “Bonjour, mon soleil,” she said. She rubbed his ears gently, glad to see his unforced smile growing. It was weird to see a genuine smile from him.  “Did you rest well, my love? Are you feeling any better at all?”

Finally feeling free to move, Alastor began to stretch, turning his neck all the way around. Rosie giggled at that- she used to find it freaky. Ironic, considering her eyes, and smile, and everything. “I’m feeling alright,” he replied, taking a sigh of relief at the release of pressure from his bones. “I’ve definitely felt better, but I’ve felt worse. I’m a little disconcerted, did I sleep all the way through the night?” 

“You sure did, mister!” Rosie slapped his shoulder lightly. “And I’m so glad you did! You slept like the dead, my boy! While you were out, we had Lucifer come in. He helped fix you up a bit, begrudgingly, of course. He was able to get most of the angelic energy out of that wound of yours. There’s still some, so you’re prolly still a bit sick. But you’re on the road to recovery. That Luci will do anythin’ for his daughter.” 

“Thanks, I guess,” he groaned. Despite the fact that it was Lucifer who healed him, he still wouldn’t say thanks to that short man. He would have to thank Charlie later, however. He was sure that the Princess’ begging and pleading had some part in it. He was a little embarrassed- he had a seizure, and then had to get angelic energy drained from him. How ridiculous. “I see I’ve got some cards. May I ask who those are from?” 

“I’m gonna be honest, I’m not sure where all of them came from. Don’t get all too big for your britches, they were just bein’ nice,” she pointed to the cards that looked like they were handmade. “These all came from folks here at the Hotel! That drawin’ one is Niffty’s, the one with the flowers is from Vaggie, the one with the deer sticker is from Miss Charlotte, and that little sticky note was signed by Husk and Luci.”

”There was no need for the gesture, but however I do appreciate it,” Alastor said. He held onto the card that Niffty had made him, smiling at her drawing. She was learning some sort of art style called manga. She said it was from Japan. Alastor didn't understand all of her hobbies and fascinations, but he was happy that she was happy. He then noticed a card that Rosie had missed mentioning. "I assume that's from Angel Dust?"

With Rosie's laugh and nod, he picked up the bright pink and glittery card, with surprisingly fancy writing. He held it between the tips of his fingers, not convinced that the paper wasn't gathered off the floor of the porn studio. He read the spider's message. Hey Smiles, hope you're doin' alright. I heard what happened. Whenever you're feelin' better, you can come hang out with Nuggsy. He's a good helper. Love, Angel. 

The next card was decorated with cannibalistic designs and puns, clearly bought, probably from Claire's Cadeaux. The rest of the cards appeared like they were purchased from there, even if they were less cannibalistic in nature. Heyya Al! Hope you're doin' the best that you can be doin'! Please let us know if there's anythin' we can do to help you! Your staff is ready and Rosie will be by to pick it up soon! Much love, Caroline and Louis. 

He picked up an ornate, maroon card. It was decorated with small pink bows. This almost looked like it was from the funeral section of the shop. He wasn't convinced that it was not. Dear Alastor, we are all wishing you well in your hard time. Please let the Overlords Committee know if there's anything we can be of assistance with. Odette can help if you have any medical questions. Sincerely, Carmilla, Odette, and Clara.  

Such pity almost made Alastor feel sick. What made him feel even more sick was that he didn't hate the care. There was something warm and fuzzy about it all, especially Niffty's card. The final card was black, with bones on the front. The handwriting was near perfect. Mine dearest Alastor, I wish thee well. Never hesitate to get in contact with me, would thou desire help. Best regards to thee, mine friend. With care, Zestial. 

That odd, final card caught his eye again. It definitely wasn't handmade, but it definitely wasn't purchased in Cannibal Town, either. It had a purple Greek key pattern. Dear Alastor, hope you're doing better. Don't be afraid to reach out if you need anything. Best wishes, Velvette. P.S. Please have Rosie or Vaggie or someone call me ASAP. Vaggie has my Sinstagram, have her get my number. Much thanks love. 

"What?" Alastor wondered out loud. He didn't mean to say anything, as he didn't want to peak Rosie's interest, but it was too late. She looked over his shoulder, a confused look on her face, she he pointed a claw towards the message at the end of the card. "Do you have any clue what she would want from me? Or, more specifically, from you? She doesn't seem like the type to care much about how I'm doing, at least that I've seen."

"To be honest babe, I wouldn't worry too much about it," Rosie replied. She shrugged, returning to her phone, her eyes lighting up at another recipe, this time for Sinner Wellington. She turned back towards Alastor's concerned face. "I wouldn't trust any of those Vs, dear. She's gonna be on Vox's side. But don't you worry, I'm not gonna let that fool do nothin' to you. I do got good news for you though! Charlie's angel is doin' better!"

"Well, I'm glad. I think I'm feeling a bit better myself," he said. He felt something odd in him, even if he wouldn't admit it. He was done having seizures. He wouldn't let himself have more. The angelic wound being mostly weird should help. "Rosie, you'd never believe it," he randomly blurted out, "guess what came back? That same old stupid dream that I told you earlier about. I think that's why I panicked on the shop floor."

"Your brain really does like to make this all as hard as possible on you, huh?" Rosie teased. "First the seizures, then the dumb dreams. You deserve a better brain, mister. But the good news is that at least somethin' is gonna get better for you here very soon. Hopin' the fever bein' gone fixes the dreams. Hopin' somethin' else fixes the seizures. Was it the same one with your papa?" It was a risk asking that. "It's dumb, either way."

"Very similar, at the least. My maman showed up this time. She took his side. Oh, that staff isn't a good look on you, Alastor," he mocked. He knew it was stupid, but he felt a little bad about her words, even if he knew that she would never say them. "It makes you look weak! My maman would never say that. Seizure dreams, fever dreams, they rhyme and they suck. But the good news is that I haven't had any since my fever went away!"

Rosie hummed a response, taking his hand, and setting her phone down. "The good news is that those dreams don't mean nothin'! You always get weird ones after your seizures, babe. Hey, by the way, wanna present?" The woman swung her legs off the bed, and crouched down, reaching underneath it. Alastor watched her tentatively, before she requested a drumroll. He did it, as much as he didn't want to. His head was killing him. 

With a smile, she pulled something out, before jumping up. "Ta-da!" She yelled, holding a staff. It had a long black stick, and a red microphone on the top. It wasn't his staff. That wasn't his staff. The stick itself was too thick, the microphone was too thin, and was a different shade of red. The base was black, instead of red. That wasn't his staff. That wasn't the staff that he had worked hard for. They had made him a new one. 

"Why, thank you dearest," he said, taking it into his grasp. He felt odd about it. He wasn't sure if he liked it. He needed to like it. Magic was all but sentient. It would know if someone didn't like it, and if someone didn't want it. And, it could be stubborn. "Rosie, will this work the same? This isn't exactly my staff, if you know what I mean," he was blunt. Alastor was always blunt. Rosie just sighed. "I don't mean to be unappreciative!" 

"I know you don't," she jumped back onto the bed, running her hand over his head. She honestly expected him to take this worse. "I know how specific you can be babe. Think about it this way, it's the same exact magic, just in a different staff. They're workin' on fixin' yours still, you just need the healing magic. I know the feelin' is gonna be weird for a bit. Hopefully you won't even have the time to get used to it, babe!"

Alastor nodded. The fact that it was different was definitely bothersome, but that wasn't the only bothersome thing. He knew that he shouldn't need a staff. He was the Radio Demon. Yet, here he was. Another dream from after the seizure came back to him, this time, someone yelling at him, calling him pathetic. Probably just the continuation of the dream with his papa. "Well, at least this is all behind us now, is it not? We can move on."

He almost pulled away from Rosie's touch. He wasn't sure why he was being this way. "And that we shall do!" She said. She leaned back into her pillow, gently tapping his thigh. "This might not completely fix the angelic wound problem. Luci said he'd have to prolly go again to get the rest out. You might still be a bit feverish for a few days. This should fix the seizures, though! Say, do you feel the magic already startin'?"

"Of course I do, dear!" That was a lie. He didn't feel it at all. He knew why he didn't feel it- that stupid dream from yesterday was all up in his mind, taking over way too many of his thoughts. There was no formal process to accepting magic, it would just know. Putain. He would just have to will himself into accepting it, that's all. Ideally, he would manage to before this headache became anything worse. It was getting hard to think straight. 

"There's voices in here, I assume it's ok to come in," a gentle voice said, knocking on the door. After her theories being confirmed, the door opened, revealing Vaggie, in a soft, pink robe. She stood against the open doorframe, drinking from a coffee mug. "I heard that the staff was done, and came to just check on how everyone was doing. I'm so sorry I wasn't there yesterday," she felt awful about that. At least she felt better now.

"Don't worry yourself, dear," Alastor yawned. He didn't feel good. He had to get all those stupid words out of his head, so that he could accept the magic. He needed to get better. "I'm just glad that you're on the mend. The only thing I still feel is embarrassment, as much as I hate to admit it. Those were three demons that I would never willingly show the worst of my condition to, and now, Carmilla's daughters seem to know as well."

"Yeah, I'm definitely getting there," Vaggie replied, trying to hide a small sniffle. There was no doubt in her mind that Rosie was watching her, and ready to send her back to bed at the slightest hint of her still being ill. "Wait, am I still more sick than I thought, and am losing my mind, or did Charlie say that there were four others present? Carmilla, Zestial, Velvette, and- hey Alastor, are you alright? You don't look so good."

Both of the women's eyes quickly drifted to Alastor, who looked pretty out of it. He nodded in response to Vaggie's question, but he still didn't seem like he was understanding what she was saying. The look on his face was blank, and he dropped his staff. Alastor, even if he liked his staff, would know better than to drop it. Vaggie tried to hand it back to him, but he wasn't taking it. "Alastor," Rosie called, "whatcha doin'? Vaggie's right."

Vaggie inhaled sharply, setting her mug down. "Alastor, I swear, in the same of all that is evil, if you are having another seizure," she tried to be strong. She tried to throw on a strong face, as to hide her concern. Maybe something was wrong with the staff. Why else would it not be working? This was the promised cure all. She gently rubbed his chest. He still pulled back in pain, but only slightly. "Alastor, answer me. Now."

It took a lot out of him, but Alastor was able to get a nod out. His mouth wasn't working right. He tried to get a sound out, but nothing happened. He was exhausted. He was well on his way into another seizure. He couldn't have another one, especially in front of Vaggie and Rosie, of all demons. The world around him blurred, as he allowed himself to slip away. He wasn't going to be able to convince himself to accept his magic in time.

Giving into unconsciousness, he fell back into the pillow behind him. Thankfully, this wasn't a tonic clonic seizure. His temperature was far from high enough. But that didn't mean that it wasn't still horrifying to Rosie and Vaggie, who truly thought that maybe things were finally over. They had finally let their guard down, only now for his eyes to be rolled back again, and he had practically biting through his lips, beyond his control. 

"You're ok, darlin'," Rosie said. She wasn't sure if she was reassuring herself, or Alastor. His claws kept returning to where the wound was on his chest, forcing her to move his hand, as much as she didn't want to. She didn't like restraining him, but she didn't want him to hurt himself any more than he already had. "Come on, Al! I need you to come on back to me. You're ok, you'll be ok. We're gonna get you through this."

"Why is he still seizing?" Vaggie was panicking, desperately shaking his shoulder. Rosie placed a hand on hers, telling her to calm down, but Vaggie couldn't calm down. This stupid staff was supposed to be the answer. Mierda. One of his legs was uncontrollably kicking underneath the blanket, practically hitting Vaggie in the gut. "Rosie, why? Why is this happening? He was supposed to be better by now! He was supposed to be ok!"

"I don't think he accepted the magic from his staff, sweetheart," Rosie sounded choked up. She was trying to keep calm for Vaggie. "His brain is messin' with him. His brain is tellin' him that he doesn't need that staff, he keeps havin' these dreams," Rosie laid her head on his chest, making sure to avoid his wound. "I need him to want help. I need to make him want help. He doesn't even have to like his staff. Just the magic."

"So that's what's going on?" Vaggie asked, and Rosie just nodded. She held Alastor's free hand, rubbing in between his fingers. "We're right here, Alastor. And, I'm gonna be honest with you, look. You need to accept help. It is ok to get help sometimes, Al. No matter what anyone says or does, that won't change that," her phone buzzed, and she picked it up nervously. A Sinstagram message from Velvette. "Weird- Velvette messaged me again."

"That broad's just tryin' to get on your good side, dearest," Rosie said. She would worry about whatever the Vs wanted later. She was just trying to keep an eye on how long Alastor's seizure had been going on. It was nearing two minutes already. He would be ok, eventually. She just had to talk some sense into him. She looked up at Vaggie, who was staring at her phone. The panic on the moth's face was evident. "Vaggie?"

Chapter Text

Vaggie wasn't the type to enjoy a phone call. She would absolutely never willingly take one. Most things could be solved through an email or even a text. Phone calls were, for the most part, absolutely unnecessary. They just served to make her feel uncomfortable and awkward, and create more confusion than was ever warranted. Vaggie hated phone calls. If you wanted her, just text her. She wouldn't mind. 

For those reasons, among others, Vaggie reacted a little weirdly to Velvette's request for an urgent phone call. She was literally texting her a request to call. Couldn't whatever she had in mind be explained via the same messaging system she used to text her? Maybe she was just hot, and tired, and stressed, and still a bit feverish, but all she could muster for a response was telling Velvette that there was an emergency. She couldn't call. 

Considering the fact that Alastor- the same Alastor who she really thought was finally going to get better, and had finally moved past the seizures- was laying in his bed, seizing again, gasping for air, she thought this was an emergency. What if Velvette had some information, like last time? No, Alastor was right here. She could text if she absolutely needed to talk. She still didn't trust her completely. And, she was just so depleted. 

It wasn't like she had a good reason to be depleted, she thought to herself. She wasn't all that sick anymore, she wasn't Alastor, she wasn't Rosie- she wasn't even there yesterday at the chaos in Cannibal Town. She was sleeping away, relying on her already overworked and overstressed girlfriend to come and cater to her every need. Maybe it's because she finally thought the end was in sight. Apparently, it was not. 

Despite her nursing experience while alive, the moth had next to no clue on how magical healing worked. This was all hinging on Alastor's desire to accept his magic, whatever that meant. She barely understood how Lucifer somewhat fixed his angelic wound, let alone how his own will would determine whether or not his magic worked. Shouldn't magic just work? Wasn't that the point of magic? It was all so confusing. 

After a quick glance back up to Alastor, she checked her messages again. Nothing new from Velvette. She should call her. The seizure seemed to be calming down a bit, even if Alastor didn't seem any more responsive to Rosie. She should call her. There was still a good reason to distrust her, even if she had sent a card. She should call her. Velvette was probably in the middle of some elaborate planning. She should call her. 

"Hey, Vaggie, what'd she say? You look a little stunned," Rosie barely raised her voice above a whisper, not wanting to startle Alastor, who seemed to be on his way back around. He was fighting it. Seeing him trying- and failing- to return himself to consciousness was definitely disturbing the moth. His glances at Rosie upon hearing his name were becoming more and more frequent. He was really trying. If only he would accept help. 

"Oh, nothing much. She's just asking me to call her," Vaggie clicked her phone off, noticing that her message to Velvette hadn't even been marked as seen. She made a mental note to call her back once things settled down. She would call her now, but a post-ictal Alastor sometimes was scarier than an actual seizing one. He usually wasn't too bad after these types of seizures- she assumed them to be complex partials- but you never know. 

A loud cough rattled Alastor's body, interrupting Rosie's next comment. She was startled, looking at her favorite Radio Demon as his head slid into his hands, his eyes shutting. He was definitely coming to a bit more. She let him get the rest of the coughs out of him, before gently speaking to him again. "Hey, Al, baby," she said, "are you doin' ok? That was a mighty loud cough for you. You're not gettin' sick again, are you?"

Through a cough, he was able to formulate an answer. "Seriously, Rosie, I'm fine!" He jumped at his harsh tone, not expecting it from himself, at least towards Rosie. It would be like mouthing off to his maman. He couldn't do that. "Oh, my dear," he was trying to apologize, but his coughs were stopping him. He must have inhaled something during his seizure. "I deeply apologize. I didn't mean to sound so rough, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"I know you didn't, mister," Rosie teased. She gently felt his forehead, making sure that his fever hadn't returned. Thankfully, it hadn't. Rosie wouldn't shy away from calling him out if he were to be a bit too sassy with her. She had done it many times before. She was always making comments about his manners and tone. But she knew that, after a seizure, he wasn't fully in control of those things. "I'm just checkin' if you're alright, love bug!"

"My dear, that's still not a great excuse, must I say," he finished his sentence before even more coughs came from him, making him wheeze. Rosie slapped his back- a bit too hard for Vaggie's liking- but his coughs persisted. Once he was finally done, he panted, unable to catch his breath after such a coughing fit. "I must've taken in a breath the wrong way. I do apologize for all this commotion. Pardon me."

Something was off with Alastor. Vaggie's eye widened as the realization set in, that something was different. He was trying so hard to be normal. That's what was different. He was throwing on his Alastor The Radio Host persona, one that she hadn't seen the full extent of since the battle. Maybe this was how he got his magic back. Vaggie shuddered at the thought that the acceptance of his Watmagic could be tied to his mask. 

Watching him play this part, despite clearly struggling, hurt Vaggie. His head looked to be killing him, and he looked beyond exhausted. He had finally seemed to calm his breathing down to where it should be, but having slow and careful breaths was making him want to sleep. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. And yet, here he was, trying. His smile was back, too. It wasn't even held in by his stitches now. He was forcing it.

Vaggie pushed herself up and off of the bed, a bit surprised when she felt a bit more weak than she had last remembered. No, her fever could not be back. She didn't even mean to, but she felt her own forehead, cringing at the temperature. Rosie clearly noticed. "Hun, are you feelin' feverish again? You should prolly get to bed? You know that I can handle this myself, right?" Rosie couldn't handle this herself. That was a lie. 

It wasn't like she doubted Rosie's abilities, but she knew just how hard it was to care for someone alone. She wasn't going to leave Rosie stranded. She had already tried that once. She was even with other people then, but they were other people without any medical knowledge. Her professor had always reminded her that a nurse needed to rely on help. "I'm fine, Rosie. Honest. I don't need to go to bed," That, too, was a lie. 

"You really should try to rest, darling," Alastor encouraged. His voice was scratchy and hoarse, impeded by wheezy breaths. Vaggie grunted, knowing that Alastor was most definitely one to talk about trying to rest. He must have never seen himself. Her mind wandered to wondering if Alastor could, in fact, see himself in mirrors. Whatever. She could ask that later. "I know I shouldn't comment on a lady's looks, but you do look awfully pale."

"Here you go, sweetheart," Rosie said as she snapped her fingers. A warm cup of coffee appeared in her hands, and she passed it over Alastor, and into the moth's hands. "Not as warm as it should be, but it'll prolly do. It's fresh Caturra, your favorite! Trust me, I've been around here long enough to know what everyone likes. Oh, and that reminds me," with another snap of her fingers, came a book. "This is yours, my love."

"Thanks, but," Vaggie absentmindedly took the book from Rosie. Sure enough, it was hers. Her bookmark was even still in place. "Fine, I'm not going to bed though. I'll just rest over on the chair."

"Good girl," Rosie said, blowing her a kiss. "I don't expect you to last long, lookin' like you do! Girl is gonna be out like a light!" Vaggie doubted that. "Keep that coffee on the table, just in case."

She must have fallen asleep without realizing it, because the next thing that Vaggie knew, she was opening her eye in a much darker version of Alastor's bedroom. Her coffee, by now definitely cool, was sitting on the coffee table, where she had left it. The book which she was previously holding now sat next to the cup. As the world around her returned, she realied she was awoken by shushing noises, and someone calling out. "Rosie! Arrêtez!"

What had happened here, she had no clue. Vaggie rubbed the dust from her eye- and, instinctively, from her X as well- it was a hard habit to break. She squinted, trying to make out what she was seeing. Alastor was sitting straight up in bed, frantically reaching around, his eyelids still shut. Rosie held onto his hand as she rubbed behind his ears, gently and motherly. "It's ok, Al baby. I'm right here. Mama Rosie's right here."

"Can I ask what's going on?" Vaggie said, her throat feeling a lot more dry than it already was. It hurt. She probably just needed something to drink. Sure enough, her coffee was ice cold. Oh well. She had bigger things to worry about, like why Alastor was freaking out. He was most definitely asleep still. Maybe this was just a byproduct of the seizures, or maybe his fever had returned. She didn't know, but she didn't like it.

"Poor baby is just havin' another nightmare," Rosie replied. Something about Rosie calling Alastor a poor baby still didn't sit right with the moth, even if he seemed absolutely miserable right now. "I don't know what he's dreamin' about. He's been in and out of this for like two hours now. I really don't like what he's sayin', hun," for Rosie to say that, must have meant that he was saying something bad. Vaggie wasn't sure what. 

"Oh. Yeah, it doesn't sound good," Vaggie stated the obvious as she sat there, doing just about nothing. She wasn't sure what to do. Wait, this had been going on for hours- did he have another tonic clonic, he must have. The little bit of the French she understood all sounded panicked. It was all directed at Rosie. He didn't sound happy with her. "Can I help at all?" She felt dumb asking that, but yet, like a broken record, she did. 

"Non! Ne m'approchez pas! Ne me parlez pas! Just stay away, please, don't talk to me!" Alastor sounded like he was crying. Rosie was too preoccupied with the apparently sleeping demon that she didn't notice that Vaggie had stood up, and was walking over there. As she got closer, she noticed something weird. The tears were welling in his closed eyes- no. His eyes were open. They were just a shade of solid red. That couldn't be good.

"I must ask, actually, seriously, what is wrong with you? What is wrong with your mind? I have yet to hear one reasonable explanation about it, you muppet!" Velvette was literally pushing Vox backwards down the streets of Cannibal Town, his blue and teal shoes scraping across the brick pavers on the road. He was grumbling at her, but she couldn't really care less about what he had to say. She was most definitely mad.

"And I've yet to hear one reasonable explanation about what is wrong with you!" Vox retorted. His hands were still crossed firmly behind his back, his eyes fixated on the demon pushing, despite all of the looks that he was getting from the residents of the town. Vox was getting a lot of them. Everyone knew that he was definitely not welcomed here, but judging by Velvette's hostile reaction, they assumed that he was well on his way out.

"Once we get out of this creepy little colony, and back to our tower, I swear, I am going to beat your little electronic arse!" Velvette was thankful to see the borders of Cannibal Town approaching them. "We have a business to run here, Vox! The staff would have been a nice treat, that we could have gotten, if it weren't for your little sexual fantasy! Can you control your kinks for one moment, or are you just another Valentino?"

"Here you go again, worried about the company image," the tone in Vox's voice was clearly mocking the woman. She wasn't very thrilled with that. "You know what hurts our company image? Not being the strong, powerful, dangerous overlords that we are! You're the one screaming and dragging me through the streets of Cannibal Town, after caving to your little bratty, prissy emotions, and defending our worst enemy!"

Velvette stopped as the two of them officially crossed the border, and out of Cannibal Town. "He's your worst enemy, Vox. Let's get that cleared up straight away. Just because you can't get your little flat screened mind off of your redheaded boy toy, doesn't mean that Valentino and I have to drop everything and help you get into his pants. Now, come on, let's go," she crossed her feet and tapped her foot, pointing at a camera above her. 

With a groan, Vox took her arm and teleported them through it, back into their living room. He dusted off his coat like he hadn't just been humiliated by his coworker. He had to hold himself together, before he began bluescreening and steaming all over the place. Velvette would definitely love a good picture of that. "Hey Vel, you're waiting for me to get all angry so you can get some pics, aren't you?" He taunted her. 

"Vox, listen to me closely, I'm done answering you," Velvette replied. She snapped her fingers together, summoning one of her personalized notecards, and her favorite pen. She laid down on the lounger, and began to write in the card, ignoring Vox's questioning. Finally, he got on her nerves just enough, for her to yell back. "And you know what, I don't want your stupid pictures! Alastor would be one thing!" She was mostly joking. 

"You know, I could probably get you something along those lines," Vox said with a laugh. He walked behind the lounger, running a hand through Velvette's hair. She swatted him away. "Imagine all the likes you will get, all the people sharing your post. The great Radio Demon, without a smile? I'm sure I could land something along those lines. Let's make a deal about it, shall we? Wait, what are you doing?" He retracted his outstretched hand. 

The woman turned her attention back to her finished card. She saw the look on Vox's face, before returning to her card, adding a few more words to it. "You wanna know what I'm doing, don't you love? I'm making a well wishes card for Alastor. Don't get all upset over it, that's just what someone does sometimes!" Her eyes glowed again as she spat the words out. "This is a spite card. I'm writing it solely to spite you."

She deflected Vox's halfhearted attempt to zap her with his electricity. He was probably aiming more towards her card than anything, but she had gotten used to him doing things like this. It was easy to deflect. "You just don't want to risk getting dropped in the middle of this mess! That's all your issue is here, Velvette, and you know that. You don't really care about Alastor, just about annoying me, and keeping your control over me!"

"Oh, boo hoo. You just don't want to admit that your business deal is going to get in the way with your, may I note quite freakish, love life. You committed, Vox. There is no backing out now," Velvette hated that something felt wrong about that. She wanted away from Vox now, too. She felt bad- no, she just didn't thinking doing this to Alastor was necessary. He was only Vox's crush, even if he was a bit odd. He didn't have to be her enemy.

"There's no backing out now- of course there's not! And neither can you, just because your heart has decided to bleed! You are just as much in this deal as I am! This is business, Velvette! Aren't we supposed to be supporting each other, that's what you always say! His little Hotel is gonna take down our business, anyways! There is no reason for you to not want to torture him for as long as possible!" Vox yelled back at her. 

"All you want to do is puppet the last thing that you want to have control over! You don't have control over it, but you want it. All you are is a sex obsessed control freak! You'll do anything for yourself, even if it hurts the rest of us!" Velvette looked back at her phone, ignoring Vox's attempt at intimidation. She opened up her Sinstagram, and send a message that she had no doubts that she would eventually regret. But, she needed to. 

"And you're all bark and no bite! I'm gonna do what I want- no, I've already done most of it anyways! !" Vox pushed his screen far too close into Velvette's personal space. She pressed a finger in between his eyes, forcing off the hypnosis, even if she was immune to it. His eye changed from its hypnosis static to a flash of a shade of solid red. Velvette laughed as she checked her phone again. Vaggie never answered her message.

Chapter Text

For a moment, time stood still around Vaggie. Alastor's irises and pupils were missing. That wasn't supposed to happen. In fact, it couldn't happen. At least, in humans. She never once even thought about the possibility of a missing iris and pupil, because, well, it was impossible. She had learned what dilated and contracted pupils would mean, but it wasn't like they had contracted to the point where she couldn't see them. They were gone. 

Without even saying a word, she waved her hand in front of Alastor's face. He didn't seem to register her being there at all. Duh. He had no pupils, of course he couldn't see. But then again, Angel had those six extra eyes. Those didn't seem to have pupils, and he said that he could see out of them. Maybe this was all just some giant demonic misunderstanding, and this is what happened when demons slept. 

Wait, Rosie. She was also missing these usually vital features of the eye, yet she could see just fine. Maybe that's why she wasn't freaked out. This could be some sort of cannibal thing. But Angel wasn't a cannibal- or so Vaggie hoped. She froze for a second, contemplating that possibility. No, she had to focus. She could ask Angel about his eating habits later. Though, she did feel a weird, new pit in her stomach after that thought. 

After all this time with Rosie and Alastor, one would think that she would be used to cannibalism. But somehow, Angel being the perpetrator of it brought it to the next level in terms of weird. She shook her head, trying to clear all the nonsense out of her mind. Right now, she had one problem. Alastor usually had irises and pupils, and now he didn't. That was, in all likelihood, a fairly major problem, and one that she needed to take care of. 

Vaguely motioning towards Alastor's face, Vaggie sharply inhaled, before finally having the courage to ask the burning question. "Is, you know, this normal? I'm not caught up on how demons work, I mean, it's how you work!" She was rambling. All Rosie did was tilt her head in confusion, a hand still resting on Alastor's shoulder. He was still panicking, yelling stuff in French. "His pupils and stuff. They're- like, they're gone."

Rosie squinted at Alastor, then her own eyes grew wide. Her usual smile suddenly dropped, as she turned back to Vaggie. "He did this the other day! I don't think it's normal for him! It's normal for us cannibals but our eyes are black! We also can't see in the dark real well, that's why I didn't notice, oh, you're right, his eyes, they're open!" Now Rosie was the one rambling, in a state of panic herself. "Is this somethin' to do with the seizures?" 

"Well, it definitely doesn't happen in humans," Vaggie muttered. She flicked the light on her phone on, shining it into his eyes. He didn't notice that either. She was hoping that doing that would wake him, considering what Rosie had just said. If the cannibals couldn't see well in the dark, because of their eyes without pupils, maybe he could see without them, just only in the light. It didn't work. "Alastor! Come on, man! What are you doing?"

"My sweet boy, you're gonna be alright," Rosie said, gently rubbing his shoulder. He replied to her, sounding angry, and she pulled her hand back. Vaggie gave her a confused glance, before Rosie sighed. "He's yellin' in French, Vaggie. He keeps tellin' me to stop!" Tears began to crack through to her voice, as Vaggie sat down on the bed. "I don't know what I'm doin'! I'm not doin' nothin', I think he's seein' somethin' in his dreams."

"I'd imagine so," Vaggie leaned into him, feeling his head. No fever. Odd. She was thinking, the wheels in her head turning, as she processed what was said, and what had happened. Rosie said that this had happened the other day. "Rosie, what did you mean?" She asked, before realizing that she hadn't said the first part out loud. "You said this happened the other day. What was that about? "I don't know what would cause this."

"Yeah, that happened after his big seizure the other day, he woke up, was confused, went to sleep, and when he woke up again, his eyes did that. It was only a brief moment, it didn't last long, and then he was fine!" Rosie tried to explain it, but she kept getting interrupted by Alastor's pained shouts. He sounded so scared. He clutched at his chest, as if it was hurting him, and not from the angelic wound. "Oh, Al. Come on baby, you got this."

Alastor twisted towards Rosie, his unstitched face falling into a grimace. He grabbed onto her shoulder now, shaking her violently. "S'il vous plaît, vous devez comprendre, j'en ai besoin, Rosie!" There was a long, silent pause, where all he did was nod his head, absentmindedly. "D'accord. Comme vous voulez. Yes sir. Yes ma'am. I'm sorry." Vaggie didn't like the sound of that. A motion told Rosie that she needed a translation. 

Rosie sighed. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and whispered back an answer. "He's sayin' that he needs somethin', he's sayin' that I have to understand, he's sayin' that I need to stop somethin'! Vaggie, I don't get it. I hope his dreams ain't makin' me the villain," she was mostly joking, but Vaggie knew that there was definitely at least a bit of seriousness in her voice. She ran her hand through his red hair, before suddenly popping back.

Some electricity hit her hand, as she did so, causing her to frown. "That ain't Al's normal static," she said, pushing through the pain of the jolts to work her way back behind his ears, which usually, would at the least soothe him. Vaggie reached out to do the same, yelping at the electricity that she received. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't that. "See what I mean? That ain't normal. Could it be from the seizures?"

The moth sighed. "I mean, seizures are abnormal electricity in the brain- at least for humans. You shouldn't feel it, but this is Alastor. Who knows! I probably wasn't supposed to be here in the first place! I was supposed to be up in Heaven, and now I'm here! What do I know about demons?" Vaggie through her head in her hands, before slowly looking up. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I'm just. I don't know. This is all a bit above me."

Above her. Vaggie never wanted anything to be above her. She didn't want to admit that she couldn't handle this. She didn't want to admit that she was putting up the same walls that she was yelling about Alastor putting up. There was just something so inherently wrong about her complaining about the situation, considering that she wasn't the one dealing with the worst of it. She had allowed herself to get hopeful. That was her mistake. 

A thought crossed her mind just then, causing the moth to gasp. Her hands slid down to her mouth, covering it, as if she didn't want to be too loud. Charlie had said that Vox was shaming Alastor. If her timeline was right, the next time he woke up, his eyes did the creepy thing. He only mentioned there being three others, besides Rosie and Charlie, present at the incident. Vox was there. The electricity. That electricity. Oh. She jumped up.

"Yes, I understand!" Alastor almost sounded like he was beginning to calm himself down, taking deep breaths. "Je comprends ce que vous voulez dire, ma chère. Je vais arrêter, je te promets. Je vous rendrai fière. Je n'en ai pas besoin, Rosie, vous avez raison. Je me montre faible. Je peux prendre soin de moi," Rosie continued to gently rub behind his ears, not liking those words. With her other hand, she wiped a tear from her eye. 

"He's sayin' that he's bein' weak, he's sayin' that he'll stop, he's sayin' that he'll make me proud. I don't know what he's on about, Vaggie. Did I say somethin'? I don't think that I did. Are the seizures just catchin' up to him? I know you don't know, miss Vaggie. I'm just talkin'. Wait, where are you goin'? Vaggie?" Rosie wacthed as the moth ran over to Alastor's bedside table, shuffling around for a minute, before picking up his new staff. 

"Actually, I might know," Vaggie corrected. She really hoped that this would work. Alastor was still being petty and stubborn about accepting his magic- no. He was being petty and stubborn about accepting his healing magic. Alastor would never resist the temptation to use anything, especially his well earned magic, to mess with Vox. She just hoped that he was thinking straight enough to realize that. "Just give me a minute here."

"May I ask what you're doing?" Rosie asked tentatively. She watched Vaggie hold the staff in her hands, seeming not exactly sure what to do with it. She briefly waved it in front of his face, before coming up with a better plan. She forced his hands to wrap around it, just like she had seen him doing before. "Vaggie, darlin', it's a sweet idea but I don't think a sleepin' demon can accept his magic really well. I'm sorry, my dearest."

"Trust me, he accepted it a while ago!" Vaggie yelled. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, but it came out that way, and she was too busy to try to fix it. "He's not accepting his healing magic, that's what this pendejo isn't doing! He would never pass up the opportunity to mess with Vox," she had forgotten that she hadn't explained her reasoning to Rosie yet. The stunned look on the cannibal's face said it all. It was clicking to her, too.

"What's going on here?" A bright red flash lit up in Alastor's eyes, as his irises and pupils returned to his face. He seemed a bit dazed, and definitely groggy. He ripped his hands off of his staff as quickly as he could. He wasn't a fan of that new staff. He winced when he looked at Rosie, a bad memory seemingly fogging over him. "It was just a dream. Alléluia. Rosie, darling, I had a dream, one that you were telling me to not use my staff."

"I would never tell you that, you silly goose!" Rosie chuckled nervously, giving a quick, anxious glance to Vaggie, like she was waiting on the moth to confirm her suspicions. Everything was making sense, and Rosie didn't like it. She looked the other way. She let him get away with this. But now, she just had to try to figure out how to undo it. That might be harder than just placing a staff in his hands. "You know how I feel about that thing!"

"Yes, I know, don't worry yourself, darling," Alastor replied. He knew how she felt- but he didn't know how he felt. The words still echoed in his mind, almost mechanically, like a picture box repeating it, over and over again. Truly, what was the difference between his maman earning enough money for his medicines, and him earning enough power for his staff. He didn't know, but he didn't like it in any case. He hated being seen as weak. 

"Alastor. It was Vox," Vaggie couldn't keep her mouth shut anymore. She couldn't help but to blurt out her realization, and watch as his brows furrowed. "I don't mean the seizures. Those weren't Vox. He's screwing with your dreams or something. He's causing those dreams," Vaggie reached for her phone. With a nod, she told Rosie all that she needed to know. Vaggie stepped out of the room, having a very important phone call to make. 

It had been a very long time since Velvette had been so relieved to receive a phone call. At first, she had no intention of answering it. That was a job for her assistants. But, when her top assistant, Rachel, told her that it was a Sinstagram call from none other than the Princess' girlfriend, she knew she had to take it. This was her mess now. Somehow. This shouldn't be her mess. She should let these fools figure it out for themselves. 

There was at least some strategic advantage to getting on the good side of who was going to be royalty one day. She might as well take advantage of the opportunity that had fallen square in her lap. But that didn't make it much easier. Here she was, berating Vox about listening to the Vs deal. She wasn't sure if this was breaking it or not. No, it wasn't. Alastor was solely Vox's enemy. She had no need to submit to what Vox said, anyways.

"Vaggie! Thank all that is evil that you called," Velvette sounded exasperated as she picked up the phone, the moth finally giving her the call that she had requested. She didn't know how to break the news, and she figured that she was going to get her head chopped off by the time this was all said and done. Whether it be by Vaggie, or by Alastor, or by Rosie, or even by Vox himself, she didn't know. And yet, here she was. 

"So, what happened?" Vaggie wasn't going to beat around the bush. She was tired, and she was still a bit freaked out by what she had just seen. She felt like she was in way over her head, even though she didn't want to be. She wanted this all figured out, for Alastor's sake, and, at this point, for hers. She felt like she was slowly going insane from all of this. She sniffled, suddenly realizing that she very well might still be sick. Great.

"Please, don't kill me. Let's start there. This is not my fault. I saved the deer boy's arse from getting it even worse than he already has it," a grunt from Vaggie made her wonder if she shouldn't have started like that. Oh well. It was too late now. And, it truly was her first thought. She was tired of getting dragged into everyone's petty debates. "I'm under the belief that Vox may have put some less than great ideas into Alastor's mind."

"No mierda, Sherlock," Vaggie huffed in return. She took a deep breath, trying to not get too frustrated with the woman. As much as she hated her, and as much trouble as she liked to cause, she may be her only hope here. "Look, I know nothing about demon biology or whatever. I know that he didn't cause the seizures. That happened before he got to Hell. Sounds like something Vox would do. Anyways, what did he do, and how do we fix it?"

"Oh, jódete. I'm trying to help you here! I'll give you what I know. It's not a lot, but it's something. No strings attached," she knew that she would regret not asking for something in return. Oh well. "He has his silly hypnosis shtick. Demons need to want magic to use it, right? He knew Alastor was getting his staff back soon. I think he's been trying to make him hallucinate in hypnosis or something. He doesn't want him to want that staff."

The moth didn't really know what to say. She knew that already- and Alastor must have had a feeling. Why else would the staff's magic work on him? Wait, why did the staff's magic work on him? "I gave him his new staff. It seemed to stop whatever nightmare he was having," Vaggie said, throwing herself down onto a chair in the hallway. She twisted her hair in her fingers, not completely trusting the no strings attached line. 

Velvette heard footsteps. Those footsteps needed to be from Rachel, or from someone, anyone, other than Vox. "He has radio magic that negates some of his electric magic, I think. I don't know! Pretty much of my magic came through dealing, and, well, other less than moral means. I don't know how they craft it and things, or how it works. I just know that it's different than the healing magic," Velvette tried to explain, cautiously. 

"I just don't know how to make him want the healing magic! I think he only likes the radio magic because bugs Vox. The healing magic should make him feel the same way. Maybe if we sat down, and explained what was happening, and how Vox is using this to his advantage? It's all his game, I think. He is way too stubborn for his own good. Just like me," Vaggie didn't mean to say that. She had said a lot of things that she didn't mean to. 

"You're preaching to the choir, love," Velvette replied. "Look, I know what it's like to be surrounded by boys who are older than you and claim to be wiser but are just too stubborn do what they need to do. Trust me, I wouldn't be here if Vox and Valentino weren't so petty sometimes. Vox thinks he's too big and strong for a lady's help, Alastor thinks that he's weak for needing magic, what's the difference?" The footsteps drew closer. 

"That's because he is!" Vaggie shuttered at the voice that she heard on the other end of the line. She heard a beep, indicating that she had been put on speakerphone. She had to be quiet. "What do you think you're doing, Velvette?" Vox yelled. He did not sound happy. "What happened to this deal that you were so proud of, huh? What happened to us being a team? Going behind my back to save Bambi from the mess that he made?"

"There is a great irony in you complaining about weakness, Vox! You are too weak to admit half of your problems! You are too weak to admit that you're not the one in charge around here, and neither is your boyfriend! You know the deal that you made! You know it full and well!" Velvette sounded angry, but not nervous. It was odd. "You are too weak to admit that you have problems that no amount of magic could save you from! Like yourself!"

"Yeah?" Vox was running out of empty threats to throw at Velvette. He had also thought that she had hung up the phone. "You know what? Making Bambi hate himself isn't the lowest that I can go! He's already wondering if Miss Cannibal Creep hates him, thanks to me. What if I leak the picture of him not smiling? What if I leak it to all of Hell that he was abused as a kid, and now he can't stop shaking like a little leaf!" Vaggie's face dropped.

"Now that will shut you up!" Vaggie heard a button click, and Vox's voice glitch away. She turned him off- that was satisfying. Velvette picked up the phone again. "Vaggie, is that true? Was he, you know? Oh, you know what we can talk later. Vox is ramped up, he'll power back on in a minute. Talk soon. Thanks," and with that, she was gone. Everything came crashing down around Vaggie. There was a picture. And Vox knew everything.

Chapter Text

There were a lot of thoughts running through Alastor's head, all at once. It was Vox. That stupid, maudit TV Demon was messing with him, and messing with his thoughts, and messing with his dreams. That shouldn't have happened. None of this should have happened, if he hadn't let Adam do what he did. Wait, Adam. His wound still burned a bit, from where Adam had slashed hm. He wished that Lucifer could have healed it in one go. 

To heal it was to drain it, and to drain it, he probably had to be asleep. To be asleep was to get these nightmares, stopping him from being able to heal. He had to accept this magic. He had to heal. He couldn't spend the rest of this eternity letting this stupid disease break him. But, the great Radio Demon shouldn't even have a disease to break him to begin with. He let this happen. He earned it. And, simultaneously, he deserved it.

Many of the scars that covered Alastor's body could be healed. Anything that he had acquired in Hell could be healed with healing magic. Everything from when he was alive, besides his death marks, of which there were many, could be healed as well. But Alastor chose not to. There was something about having lasting marks from every battle, reminding everyone who he was, and who they had chosen to deal with. 

Alastor didn't go down without a fight. In truth, Alastor didn't go down, period. He had his hat handed to him in that battle with Adam, but he still survived it. He might as well walk away with some proof of it. He did have some proof- the large gash down his chest. He wasn't going to let Lucifer get rid of its physical mark. It was neat in the way, how it looked like electricity was shooting from it, the mark of an angelic weapon. 

Angelic weapons couldn't be defeated by demons who didn't have angelic armor. That was well known. Angelic armor was very hard to come by in Hell. That's why many saw Alastor as an idiot when he went to that rooftop, armed merely with his little staff. The fact that he got away alive was good. It was incredible, even. Was truly was his incredible, however, was his stupidity. A battle scar, a symbol of pride, was not punishment enough. 

It wasn't like Alastor had a lot of events that he felt that way about. The only other one he could think of, ironically enough, was when he had to defend his maman. Well, he had to do it many times over. But specifically, that time at the age of five, where he received the blow to the head. He did not save his maman that day. He was lucky that she was, for the most part, ok after that. She never could walk the same after that. 

He wished that he could have stopped it all. He knew that he was young, too young to do anything. But there was something satisfying in knowing that he paid the price for failing to be his maman's défenseur. She had always told him that he didn't need to protect her from her husband- she shouldn't have married him. But he still earned, and deserved, his condition. Rosie's voice broke through his thoughts. "Hey, Alastor, are you ok?"

Having realized that Rosie probably thought that he was having another seizure- a blank stare lost in thought would do that- he gave her a warm, but shy smile. He didn't like all of the thoughts that were going through his head. He could have been better. He should have done better. His seizures were a battle scar, showing that he let his maman get hurt at the hands of his papa, and that he eventually won in the end. "I'm fine. Sorry, dearest."

"No sorries," Rosie replied, reclining back into Alastor's bed. She crossed her arms behind her head, resting on them, as a comfortable silence settled momentarily, before she broke it once more. "You're thinkin' about it again, aren't you? Alastor, it's ok to need help, babe. It's ok to rely on others sometimes. Do you know how strong that makes you look, compared to how hardheaded you're bein' right now, my dear?"

"You have to be stubborn to get anything done down here," Alastor nestled himself into Rosie's chest, allowing his eyes to close. His head was beginning to kill him. He wondered if his staff could fix this. He wanted it to. But it wasn't a matter of wanting. It was a matter of accepting. Alastor did not accept the help. This was his battle scar. He should be proud of it. "If I really loved my maman, I would do anything for her, even take a bullet."

"Baby, you need to stop sayin' that," Rosie wrapped her arms around her deer, and began to run her hand through his hair, but he quickly pulled his head away. His breath quickened. "Oh, come on Al baby. No, you can't be breathin' like that. You're just gonna give yourself another seizure. You're here, you're safe with Rosie. Your old man isn't here. Could you open up those pretty eyes of yours for me? It'll help you out."

"Maman depended on me to save her, and to stop him. And she had to suffer the rest of her life. She didn't do anything! I made Papa angry. It was my fault Rosie!" He coughed as he rammed his head into the woman's chest, forcing her to shift. His breaths were becoming more shallow, but he did slowly open his eyes, looking at Rosie with an unseeing gaze. "It was all my fault Rosie. If you're to blame, why do I get the relief, if she couldn't?"

If he thought hard enough- or maybe, not enough- he was right back there with his papa and his maman, as she begged him to let her seek some sort of treatment for her sweet little boy. That this was more than his anger management issues, and his behavior troubles, and that this was something that he, le diable, caused. That her sweet baby boy was suffering, blacking out and getting terrible migraines, all because of his hand. 

And he could hear his response, mocking him, saying that no craignant Dieu son of his would ever need to be stuffed with medication. This was nothing that a good spanking would fix. And yet, when his maman wasn't looking, he was given medication, supposedly to fix his behavior. It only made it worse. He now knew that it was, whether intentionally or not, triggering his seizures. That's why he should never trust something artificial. 

Was his magic artificial, now that was the question. It fixed his seizures. But he was still getting it from something than himself. His papa had always told him, that if he loved his maman, he would show it. His seizures were a good reminder. She had herself a fils, and he was expected to defend her. He couldn't be the weak boy who failed to protect his maman. He was already out of place, his dark skin standing out among the rest. 

Alastor remembered proudly telling everyone about his so-called head injury, and how proud of it he was. He defended his maman. He remembered being mocked, and being called ralenti by his classmates, on top of the racial slurs already being thrown at him. He would then go home, and be given his medication, and seize, and sleep, and he would not be able to defend his maman when he was in such a dazed state. 

"Rosie, I don't feel so good," Alastor managed out. His head was raised- he did not even remember when that happened. His eyes were half lidded, but threatening to fully close at any moment. He couldn't fully close them. He would only get more lost in his mind, remembering things that he had sworn to forget. He looked at Rosie, trying to pull himself back to her, even though his body was frozen, he tried to move his mind. 

"Well, you don't say," she teased. She gently stroked his head, trying to orient him, and remind him that he would be ok. He was ok. No one could hurt him anymore- besides himself. Except, she didn't need to remind him of that. "Babe, I need you to bring yourself back to me, all the way now. Remember where we're at, focus on that breathin'. If you don't, you're gonna start all over with the seizures again," it was the vicious cycle once again.

For whatever reason, the harder he tried to slow down his breaths, only the faster that they became, feeling like they were echoing through his far too thin diaphragm. A choking cough got through to him, the only words he managed were simple. "Rosie, this will all be over soon, will it not? This has got to end soon. I can't keep doing with this," the cough overtook him, messing up his breathing even further, and causing him to freeze. 

The woman frowned as she saw him black out momentarily. His hyperventilation seizures never seemed as bad as his usual ones. He froze for a second, his eyes looking straight up at the ceiling, even though his neck didn't follow suit. His eyelids fluttered rapidly. He didn't even seem to notice that he blacked out, once he woke up about ten seconds later. "I promise you, my love. It will be over soon, very soon," or at least, so she hoped. 

"I need it to be," he replied. He was tired, and he was trying to force his breathing into a normal rhythm, but every time he did, the air seemed to catch in his throat, causing him to cough, and causing him to seize. He didn't even realize that he was seizing, stuck in a cluster of small ones. Eventually, Rosie handed him a glass of water, hoping to break the cough from starting up again in his throat. The feeling brought back such bad memories.

"Are you doin' ok?" Rosie asked him, tentatively. He nodded, but no one doubted that he was lying. He was definitely not doing ok, remembering the taste of that stuff, burning down his throat. The label was ripped off, and he was pretty sure that he had heard his maman accusing his papa of his medications being simple cough syrup. Looking back on it, the whole thing was almost humorous, now knowing what ingredients were in there. 

With a deep breath, Alastor laid back, handing his now empty glass to Rosie. He was exhausted beyond words, and just wanted to sleep, even though sleeping would probably send him into another nightmare spiral again. He groaned. He didn't know what to do. He just had to relax. "The good news is that this cannot get any worse, right?" He laughed, rubbing his eyes, pushing to alleviate the head pain. "This is the new rock bottom."

He didn't hear an answer from Rosie, which was a bit odd. He forced his eyes open again, looking at the cannibal laying in bed next to him. Just like when he first awoke, hours ago, her face was illuminated by the light of her phone. But this time, she wasn't scrolling through recipes. He couldn't make it out. Maybe she was on Sinstagram- wait, she didn't have one. Who knows who she was stalking. Her face suddenly dropped. "Alastor."

Vaggie wasn't sure what her next move should be. She had to tell Rosie and Alastor what she had heard, right? She now had confirmation that Vox did it. She now had learned that Vox knew a lot more than he had ever let on. He knew the deepest, darkest parts of this story. How he had known, she had no idea. She wasn't sure if she wanted to. He probably trusted him so much at a time. Too much, to be exact. 

Sitting in the silence of the hall, she debated entering the room again. This was a bandaid that had to get pulled off eventually. She could either do it slowly, or she could just rip it all off, in one fell swoop. Wouldn't Alastor prefer it that way? She stood up, getting ready to go in, before plunging back down into the chair, and the sound of her phone ringing. Sure enough, it was a Sintagram call from Velvette. Great, 

"Apologies for the muppet's outburst, my love," Velvette began, sighing into the phone. She snapped her fingers, and the next thing that Vaggie heard, Velvette was taking a draw from a vape. Vaggie remembered being a rebellious teen and trying it once. Oh, how she did not know what was coming for her. At this point, she might as well try it again. "I hate to say this, but, Vaggie, I think this all might just be a bit worse than we thought."

"Yeah, how could it get much worse than this?" Vaggie leaned back, trying to force herself to get comfortable. She couldn't tell if she loved this chair or hated it- just as she couldn't tell if she trusted Velvette or not. She wanted to. But at the same time, she hadn't done much to earn her trust. She wasn't the example of morals here in Hell. But, in Velvette's defense, neither was Vaggie. "Unless Vox can control Al's seizures, we'll be good."

"Well good news is that he can't," Velvette paused for a second, stopping in thought. "Not yet. I wouldn't rule it out for him to try some stunt like that eventually. But I digress. Vaggie, please don't kill me," great, exactly the words that Vaggie wanted to hear. "But, it's true, Vox does have pictures. Thankfully, none of the actual seizure itself. Just of Alastor, laying unconscious, and his smile broken," Vaggie gasped. 

"Ok, yeah, you're right. That's pretty bad. I heard him say it, I hoped it wasn't true," Vaggie thought back on Velvette's choice of words more carefully. Every time she won her over a bit more, she broke it again, with some dumb comment. Last time, she called him the deer boy. This time, she did not call him any sort of mean nickname or anything. The only one who she offended was Vox, which he deserved. The whole thing was odd. 

"The good news for you is that it gets worse," Velvette said. Vaggie grimaced. Every time she thought that it could not get worse, it seemed like it did. "As I'm sure you heard, he collected the info about his father. He wants to use it against him. I hold more power here than you might think, dearest. I will do my best to prevent any of this getting out. But just one thing. Vox collected this information from Carmilla Carmine."

"Wait, what?" Vaggie was stunned. Carmilla Carmine, the woman who seemed so intent on helping, the woman who she trusted- wait, Velvette hated her. Maybe this was one of Velvette's games. The information won't leak, but Vaggie has to do something about Carmilla. The moth was suddenly launched in between a rock and a hard place. Screw Velvette. But she had to play along. "What did Carmilla do? I don't believe she would tell."

Velvette sighed. She wanted Vaggie to take the bait, even if she had just come up with it moments ago. "Ok, it's not that simple. She doesn't really know. Vox- I knew this. I knew this love, and I should have said something sooner. He put his hand on her shoulder. He transferred a micro camera onto her. Rosie did share the info privately with Carmilla. She trusts her. Who doesn't. I don't. Whatever. He saw the texts."

Rage filled Vaggie as soon as she heard those words. That had to be in violation of some sort of overlord code or rule. But, it didn't seem like there were many of those in Hell. That's why this was Hell, she guessed. She would have to contact Carmilla, and tell her all of this. She hated that she didn't want to. She wanted to remain on Velvette's good side. She was her key to fixing this. "Ok, I'll handle that. Back to how we help Alastor."

"I hate to say this Vaggie, but I just don't know," Velvette's words drifted off, the line momentarily cutting out. "If Alastor lets his magic override that of Vox, the dreams shouldn't bother him anymore, unless his mind comes up with them itself. I mean, such a thing wouldn't surprise me. With all of this, he clearly doesn't want to feel needy enough for magic or medicines. He's been through a lot. The seizures, the drugging, everything." 

"He was drugged? What do you mean, he was drugged?" Vaggie jumped out of her chair again, like she was about to head on down to head on down to the V Tower, and break Vox apart with her own two hands- and her angelic spear. That was a pretty fun weapon to wield. For some reason, the rest of the info didn't make her anywhere near as angry as she was now. She wanted to kill. "I can't believe, I mean I can, that Vox drugged him."

"Vox didn't drug him!" Velvette was quick to clear that up, bringing back Vaggie's ick with it. Why was she trying to defend the TV Demon, even if he wasn't the one who drugged him. "I don't know if you should know this, love. You're young," Vaggie's scoff reminded her that they were just about the same age, at least, when they died. "Rosie said that his father had drugged him. She told Carmilla a lot of stuff last night," Vaggie was shocked. 

"Why did she tell Carmilla anything?" Vaggie wasn't sure why she was annoyed at Carmilla. She really didn't do anything wrong clear. Clearly Rosie felt like that was the best option, for whatever reason. She probably needed an outlet. It was only fair, after all of her hard work, that she got one. Vaggie could use one right about now. She could use someone to share just about everything that was weighing down on her with. 

A hummed reply was all that she received, from a seemingly tired Velvette. "I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. I didn't mean to dump what you didn't know on you. She just probably needed to vent, and that's alright. But, uh, yeah, to clear this all up. His father gave him medicines to worsen the seizures. I think Vox has been playing off of and manipulating off of that. There's a line somewhere that he crossed. I think that's it."

Vaggie had nothing left to say. She wasn't out of ideas. She probably needed to get ahold of Carmilla, and as soon as possible, to tell her what was going on. Alastor aside, that wasn't good for anyone's safety. She wanted to trust Velvette. No, right now, she had to trust Velvette. "Hey, Vel, maybe sometime we need to meet up. I promise I won't hurt you. I just need all of the information, an outlet, and maybe a blue raspberry vape."

Chapter Text

Velvette was feeling things that she wasn't exactly sure that she particularly liked. She didn't want to feel pity for that eldritch Radio Demon, who had truly never been anything less than a jerk that she had seen, she did. She felt like getting up and getting ready to go and have brunch with one of his little friends just to ensure that he was ok might have been the most degrading thing she had done in a while. 

Yet, here she was. She felt stupid about the whole thing. She had told Vox and Valentino that she was just meeting an overlord friend, and that she was hoping to strike a deal. There were no deals to be struck today. All she could get was a happier Vaggie, ideally a position a step closer to the rulers of Hell, and maybe some information. After all, information and secrets were Vox's favorite form of currency. 

All she had to keep reminding herself of was that she had no real reason to hate Alastor. Sure, he could be a bit of a creep, and ultimately was a pretty big level on the overlord totem pole, but there was still nothing that he had done to her. Generally speaking, overlords had respect for each other, unless one decided to stir up trouble. Vox also had that weird sexual fantasy situation with him, but that was more Vox's problem than his. 

Vaggie also was feeling things that she didn't like to be feeling. Namely, some sort of weird hope for Velvette. It must have been Charlie rubbing off on her, she assumed. Something about her girlfriend's bright and bubbly, always optimistic personality had worn off on her. She didn't want to trust Velvette, but some weird feeling in her gut told her that maybe, for right now, it wouldn't be the worst decision. 

There was not a doubt in her mind that there was something brewing beneath the surface here, and that Velvette wasn't just doing this out of the kindness of her heart. She figured that her status- or, more accurately, that of her girlfriend- was probably a major thing in play here. She wasn't going to tell Velvette anything that she didn't already know, which, at this point, was seemingly everything. Thanks, Vox. 

Going to meet with someone who you knew was actively working against you was definitely an odd feeling. It was especially odd since she refused to meet anywhere but at a café next to the V Tower. She wouldn't meet in Cannibal Town, where Vox couldn't get a look, but quite frankly, Vaggie was glad that they weren't meeting there. She had spent enough time around cannibals lately. She didn't need to eat like them now, too.

Walking into the café, Vaggie quickly spotted the woman, sitting at a table towards the middle of the room. She was the only customer here, so it wasn't actually all that hard to spot her. The room matched her hearts decor theme, leading Vaggie to realize that this was definitely her place. She owned enough souls to staff the place. "Hi there, Velvette," Vaggie said, suddenly feeling underdressed. "So, uh, nice to see you, today."

The woman looked up from her phone, clicking it off as she set it on the table. "Nice to see you too, love," she replied. She definitely sounded a bit irritated, which wasn't giving Vaggie the warm fuzzies, so to speak. She so eagerly agreed to this meet up on the phone last night, actually sounding genuine. Now she seemed to think that Vaggie was just another client on the schedule. "So, tell me what's going on. Spill all the tea that you've got."

"I honestly don't have much," a waitress pulled out a chair at the table for Vaggie, the moth cautiously sitting down. She felt like she had walked her way right into a trap. She really had become Charlie now. She let her desire to believe that Velvette actually cared about her or Alastor beat out her senses. Velvette was probably planning something. She refused the vape she was offered, suddenly realizing that she didn't know what would be in it.

"You don't have to keep any secrets. I assure you, Vox isn't gonna hear any of this. You know this is my place, right? You really think that I don't have any restrictions on his technology in here? A woman needs her space to relax, you of all demons should know that," Velvette took a puff of her vape before eating from the food prepped out on the table before her, taking a bite from an empanadita. It reminded Vaggie of home, in life. 

"Where did you get, uhm, these from?" Vaggie asked. She picked one up, inspecting it, worried about there being poison or something else unsavory in them. She was dealing with one of the cruelest overlords in all of Hell, in a situation that she more or less purposely placed herself in. This was for Alastor, she had to keep remembering that. But why was she here- it was for her. Velvette couldn't offer anything new to Alastor. 

"Babe, I'm not gonna poison the empanaditas. Trust me, if I was gonna poison you, I'd find a better way than ruining my mum's top secret recipe. My madre, wherever she is now, wouldn't be too thrilled with that choice, now would she love?" Vaggie cautiously took a bite, giving Velvette an odd look. "Mis padres are Dominican, and yours?" Velvette asked, trying to get Vaggie to open up at least a bit more to her. She wanted to talk, not sit. 

"Salvadorian," the word sat with Vaggie for a moment, a realization coming over her. It was particularly obvious, even if she hadn't quite processed it yet. She offered Velvette a small smile. "We were alive at the same time, weren't we? At least for a bit. We lived aways apart I assume, but it's still interesting in a way. Two Latinas, making our way in the world. Mierda, why am I getting this way? Ignore all that I just said."

"One would suppose that I could, but what's the fun in that?" The way Velvette said those words almost reminded Vaggie of Alastor, in all the bad ways. There were almost sadistic undertones to her voice. Maybe this was just how overlords were, and Rosie was the weird exception. Maybe she was trusting Rosie too much, at this point. Shoot. She promised her that she'd meet with her this morning. "Vaggie, are you alright?"

Apologizing, Vaggie met eyes with Velvette. She felt something creep into her stomach, that feeling of definitely doing the wrong thing returning once more. Velvette worked with Vox and Valentino, that should be a warning enough as to what type of demon she was. "Yeah, I'm fine, sorry. It's just a lot, you know? I don't wanna say that I'm scared, because I'm not scared, but honestly, I'm scared." Vaggie didn't know why she'd admitted that. 

Velvette squirmed a little bit, also not quite sure what Vaggie would just open her mouth and say that. She fidgeted with the bracelets on her wrist, breaking eye contact with Vaggie. "You can't afford to be scared. This is Hell, darling. You aren't getting anywhere if you're scared. There's a hierarchy here for a reason," she laughed. Vaggie seemed visibly uncomfortable with that. Yeah, she probably took it too far. That's not why she was here.

"You don't need to be giving me afterlife advice," Vaggie groaned. She noticed Velvette's smile drop, looking over the moth, more sincerely. Vaggie had an idea, and an awful one at that. She knew exactly how to get past Velvette's hard facade. She had a tool up her sleeve. "Look, I appreciate it, but I'm not here for that. I kinda wanna talk about Vox, specifically the whole planting a camera on Carmilla thing. That wasn't cool."

"Carmilla sucks," Velvette blurted out. No, she had to calm herself. She couldn't do this. "But yeah, as awful and quite honestly tasteless as she is, he shouldn't have done that. It's against so many rules and once she finds out we're going to all be in trouble. Something with him and Alastor- men who can't keep their grubby hands to themselves and all of the consequences wind up on their dueña's lap. Well, what else is new."

"Yep. Men in general. Can't they be pendejos sometimes? That's what I always call Alastor," Vaggie giggled, finally relaxing in her chair, before something occurred to her, replaying Velvette's words. What did she call herself? Vaggie's eyebrows furrowed. There is no way that she heard her right. Or maybe Velvette was just exaggerating, she seemed like the type to do so. "Wait, you said that the consequences wind up on whose lap?"

"Oh," Velvette's eyes widened. So did Vaggie's. The moth knew that her plan to get Vaggie to open up worked, but maybe just a bit too well. What on earth was Velvette's relationship to Vox? She felt bile begin to rise in her throat, her whole body tingling. Yeah, she definitely never meant to say that out loud. Maybe the glass of mamajuana on the table was doing the talking. "Look, it's not at all what it sounds like. It was just a small deal."

"Do you own Vox's soul?" That was only the first part of the question. She seemed to imply a second owner in question, and one who owned Alastor's soul. There was no way that was actually right. 

"Seriously, I don't own his soul! It'd be ridiculous to assume such. It was just a little deal! We all have it! Just a pact to run our company! Otherwise, who knows what chaos he and Valentino would be causing?" She yelled. 

Vaggie couldn't believe that. Soul or no soul, Velvette had some sort of binding pact with Vox. Even if they all had it, as she had said, and even if it wasn't all that big, it was still something. This was definitely not the tea she expected today, and this tea would definitely make Alastor happy. At this point, anything to improve his moral would be nice. "Did you imply that someone has a deal with Alastor, too?" Vaggie was cautious with her words. 

The woman chuckled for a moment, before realizing just how serious Vaggie was. She genuinely seemed confused. "Oh, you don't have to pretend, darling. You don't have to feign innocence. I'm pretty sure that either you have a deal, or you're doing the bidding for that Princess girlfriend of yours. Or maybe even that creepy cannibal lady. Why else would you care so much about this?" Velvette nervously took a puff from her vape.

What? Did Velvette actually think that she, or Charlie, or even Rosie, owned Alastor's soul? That's why she thought that she cared. Velvette sat here, thinking that this was some sort of overlord arrangement, and not just friends helping each other out. She hated to think of herself as Alastor's friend. But he definitely was Charlie's friend, or at least, Charlie thought he was. "None of us have any sort of deal with him. We just want to help."

Everything seemed to stand still around Velvette for a moment. She was doing this out of the kindness of her heart? Vaggie didn't seem like she'd do that for Alastor, but she would for Charlie. Helping your girlfriend, especially when she was the Princess, made sense. But just helping a friend? "Then, what's the purpose of all of this? If it's just for Miss Bleeding Heart's sake, that makes sense. She's the only one not here for a reason."

She tried to blow off the comment about her girlfriend. She was getting somewhere, and Charlie would probably take such thing as a compliment. "Yeah, you're onto me. I'm doing it for Charlie. I don't think that I would be doing this if it wasn't for her," she felt like she got stung right through the heart. She felt like she actually cared for him. "Al can be an hijo de puta. But maybe, somewhere, deep down, I don't hate him. Maybe I can just try."

Velvette raised an eyebrow. It was odd, because she truly did seem like she cared for Alastor. She heard her on the call the night before. She heard her panicking over Alastor. And she doubted that it was just for Charlie, even if she said such a thing. "If you don't have a deal with him, and you're not getting anything out of it, why are you in such a pánico over all of this? I know that Charlie seems to want to see the best in people, but still."

"I want to see the best of people," Vaggie lowered her head, feeling weird saying that so bluntly. She wasn't even entirely sure that it was true. "That's why I'm here, you know. I don't want to like you, I don't think I actually do like you. But I'm trying to learn. I'm not trying to get anything out of you here, and I'm not trying to get anything out of Alastor, either, even if it's a nice thing for arguments with Charlie," the moth giggled. 

"This is Hell, darling! You've got to level up your game, girl! You've got to be able to plan behind the scenes, have some ulterior motives. You're in the worst place that you can be in, babe! Redemption is a worthless mission. Either you get success and protection here, or you're gonna die forever. So you might as well make the best of Hell!" Velvette seemed to tense. She was clearly anxious. There was something brewing under the surface.  

"To be honest, I think you do, too. Why do you care? What is in this for you?" Vaggie had the woman right where she wanted her. She had her a bit vulnerable- Velvette should be proud. Vaggie could play the game herself, after all. She grinned, Velvette obviously feeling a bit uncomfortable with her reaction. "It could be Vox. Look, I grew up with three brothers, I know how annoying they can get. Spite is a perfectly valid reason to do things."

"Maybe it's spite. Vox can be one annoying muppet if you ask me. He's smart, until he's not, it's kind of funny. It would be funny if it didn't risk sinking our whole ship. A boy I knew growing up had seizures, among other things. I didn't care about his health. I let him die. I'm not really over that. The whole thing was the last time I cared," Velvette stopped herself before completing her sentence. "I don't know what my reason is."

"You do know that you're allowed to actually care about someone, right? It's not a rule in Hell that you can't care. But being selfish is fine, too. You know, in life, I wanted nothing more than to be a nurse. I died before I got that chance. Now I'm getting the chance, and it's hard," Vaggie laughed, squinting a bit towards Velvette. "You're allowed to struggle. That's what maybe I should learn, too," she felt suddenly very hypocritical. 

"Look, I'm not struggling!" Velvette didn't mean to sound so harsh. She took a deep breath, calming herself down. Whoops. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm not struggling. I'm handling this. The only thing I'm struggling with is keeping Vox from frizzing out! Look, I'm sorry about all of this, all of this whole thing. It's a mess. We have a contract together, so we should fix our messes together, should we not?" She joked. 

Vaggie sighed. There was something weird about this. It was like she was looking in the mirror more than she would have liked. "You aren't always responsible for everyone's messes, Velvette. Just because you have a deal with someone, I mean, even if you don't. Don't add my mess to your list of messes," Vaggie hated those words. She was doing the same thing. She was adding Velvette's to hers, despite knowing that it was a bad move.

Even Velvette had to admit that Vaggie had a point. But it truly was her deal. She was here to clean up Vox's mess, and in turn, well, she had some influence there. "What's the difference between you and me, darling? Look, I saw Carmilla's camera, I know what Rosie said about you, this hasn't been easy. I don't blame you. Hey, Vaggie, look. Let's make a deal," her last ditch attempt at saving her reputation was interrupted by a buzzing phone.

At first, Vaggie didn't quite notice it ringing. She was lost in her thoughts, processing just how much of a hypocrite she was being. Here she was, telling Velvette that she didn't need to fix a mess, a mess that she willingly chose. Vaggie didn't even choose her mess. She had been thrown into this. Here she was, giving someone who was definitely not a good person, afterlife advice. She truly was becoming Charlie. Her thoughts were loud. 

There was a bit of her that wanted to just break down and cry. She couldn't do that in front of Velvette. Those last words from the woman began to come into her mind. She asked her for a deal. More proof that she was stupid, and that she shouldn't have come here, especially if she hadn't even got any new information about Alastor. What Velvette said was actually probably right. Wait. She noticed the buzzing coming from her phone. 

"Hi, Vaggie, thanks for pickin' up," Rosie's voice came from the other side of the line. Vaggie loved the cannibal- words that she would never think that she would have said- but she really didn't want a call from her. She was probably just calling, cashing in on this meeting from earlier. "Are you safe, dear? I know Charlie said that you were meetin' with a pal of yours. It's not an emergency, but I have somethin' to talk about!"

"Great. Just what I wanted to hear," Vaggie watched confusion grow on Velvette's face. She wasn't going to let her hear both ends of the conversation. Not yet, at least. She was a V, she was a particularly evil overlord. She was still trying to make a deal with her, probably for information. "Anyways, yeah, sorry. I'm safe. I'm fine. I'm just meeting with someone, blowing off some steam, you know? It's about time that I do it."

"Who is it?" Velvette whispered. It was almost like this person knew that there was a deal that she was trying to make, and that she was trying to get- something. Velvette wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore. Maybe a way to get away from Vox, that would be fun, she teased with herself. "Do you want a room for a private conversation? You don't have to step outside, where you know that some annoying little TV could hear you."

"It's about Carmilla," Rosie replied. Vaggie shook off Velvette's request. She didn't know why, but she wanted her here, even if this all seemed to be on its hands and knees, begging for a fight. She didn't need Rosie hating Velvette any more than she already did. "I think that annoyin' little you know who chipped her. He has too much info. I dunno who told Carmilla, but he knows too much. Hey, uh, Alastor, babe, are you feelin' alright?"

Chapter Text

Shy of marching down to the V Tower and beginning a war right then and there, Carmilla had only one move to make- go to the Hazbin Hotel, and meet up with Rosie. To say she was mad would be an understatement. She wasn't mad at Rosie, she just had to talk with her. She honestly had no clue what to even do, except doing something that she might regret. Rosie had Vaggie, who at least seemed to be on ok terms with Velvette. 

As much as she hated Velvette- she saw her as nothing more than a brat- maybe she could somehow talk Vox out of this stupidity. This whole attaching a camera to another overlord thing was against overlord code in so many ways, but the fact that he did this just to get the inside scoop on Alastor, was insane. He could at least try to get something good, and not some tea about his enemy. What a waste of an opportunity, in her opinion. 

Even she could admit that he did a good job at doing it. She wouldn't have known for a while, except for the information that she was passed. It started as a text message in the middle of the night, one coming from Rosie. She explained that she received a message from a cannibal- or at least she assumed it was one, as the number was coming from her territory- explaining what she had heard. Vox had been spying on Carmilla. 

When she first heard that, she didn't quite think it was true. It was probably just one of those dumb cannibal teens pulling a stunt, and trying to get their leader all riled. Unfortunately, when she checked it out, sure enough, she found it. One of Vox's NanoCams, practically embedded on the skin of her cheek. She pulled it out like a bug, squashing it under her angelic steel tipped shoes. Vox was going to pay for this.

The goal for today was simple. Meet with Rosie and Vaggie, see what the moth could do, and decide whether or not she should go to the V Tower and wage war. She took Zestial and her daughters with her on this business trip, looking for second opinions. A good leader always had second opinions. Zestial knocked on the door for her as they reached the entrance to the Hotel. "Why, thank you Zestial. I do hope that Miss Vaggie is here."

Charlie was very excited to hear a knock on the door. At first, she thought it was Vaggie, but her girlfriend wouldn't have knocked. She had a key. She tried to keep the smile glued to her face as she met eyes with Carmilla Carmine. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, I'm glad you're here! Are you looking for- ah, screw it. Why are you here?" She knew that there was no way that she was here for redemption, at least yet. "How can I help?"

"We need to talk with Overlord Rosalind, as well as Vaggie," Camilla said, stepping into the lobby. "It's a pleasure to be seeing you under better circumstances now, dear princess. Can you point us to where we should go?" Charlie was very confused. Why was Carmilla Carmine, of all demons, here to meet with Rosie. It probably had something to do with the Alastor incident the other day, but then she probably wouldn't have needed Vaggie. 

"Enchanted to seeth thou again, mine Princess. I doeth thank thee for thou time," Zestial stepped in following Carmilla and her daughters, holding the door for them all. After, he gave Charlie a small tip of his hat, his smile growing. He looked around the halls of the building, not quite being what he expected. It sure did look like something Alastor would make. A bit too much flair for his taste, but it wasn't entirely awful.

With a nod, Charlie vaguely gestured towards the stairs. "Well, alright. Uhm, Angel and Husk are out, and who trusts Niff, so I have to stay here. But just head on up those stairs, all go to the third story, and then it's the first door to your right. That's Alastor's room. He might still be sleeping, but whatever. I'm sure Rosie will come to the door to talk. Also, on your way out, make sure to stop by! I would love to tell you about our available rooms!"

Carmilla laughed a little, accepting Zestial's silent request to take her hand in his. They walked up the stairs together, the warlord thinking of Charlie's words. "Oh, she is such a sweet soul, now isn't she? Even if that snake got redeemed, it's still not reasonable for everyone now, is it?" Once they reached the door, clearly marked for the Radio Demon, Zestial gave it a gentle knock. "Hello, Rosalind, Charlie said that you were in here."

"Ah, one second Vaggie. A lot is goin' on, all of the sudden," Rosie playfully said. Carmilla heard her phone snap shut, causing a groan to come from her. She really hoped that Vaggie would be physically present. Where was she at this time of day, anyways? The door opened a little bit, Rosie barely peeking her head out. "Oh, hello there Carmilla, uhm, I'll be right back, ok? I need to go take care of Alastor, he'll be fine in a moment."

"Is he not fine now?" Carmilla placed a foot in the door, feeling particularly prickly this morning. Of course she did. The Vs had somehow gotten a camera attached to her. "Sorry Rosalind. I do not mean to be so bad mannered this morning. We have already seen just about the worst of it, have we not? Maybe there is something that we can do to help?" Rosie gently ushered the crew inside. "Oh, Alastor does appear fine to me. Alastor?"

The eldest of Carmilla's two daughters, Odette, came around to the side of Alastor's bed, fiddling with her glasses. "Alastor? My mamá was talking to you," she was clearly not trying to be rude- she was assessing the him. She did medicine in both life and the afterlife, one of the few sinners who took the time to help others medically. "His eyes are rolling, doesn't appear very responsive. Automatisms. You said he had a seizure the other day?"

Rosie smiled, sitting down on the bed next to Alastor. Everything was fine not that long ago. Alastor was getting better, Vaggie was going to talk with a friend, and everyone was slowly healing. That was until that stupid text message, cluing her in on the camera situation. Of course, Carmilla decided to come over, just as she was updating Vaggie, just as Alastor went into another seizure. "Don't worry about it, darlin'. These are normal for him."

Odette seemed to doubt Rosie, but still nodded anyways, adjusting her lab coat. Rosie gently helped push Alastor sit up more. He bit his lower lip hard, causing Rosie to grimace. She wished she could fix this. She also wished that half of Hell's most powerful overlords weren't here spectating. "Is he even conscious?" Clara asked, coming up to her sister's side, placing her head on her shoulder, her curly hair brushing in her sister's face. 

Slowly, the cannibal woman shook her head. "Prolly not, darlin', I'm sorry to say," as she brushed the deer's bangs out of his face, she noticed his eyes darting towards her, like he was trying to say something. She frowned, feeling his forehead. No fever. "You can tell he's fightin' it though. That's my Al. He's always a fighter, isn't he? Even when it's worse off for him," she wiped the blood off of his chin. Oh, how she wished everyone would leave.

"What can I doeth to help?" Zestial asked. He looked down at the demon on the bed in front of him, leaning into Rosie's body. Alastor rested his head along her collarbone, his movements jerky and uncoordinated as he moved into her. His ears flicked as she touched them, despite his eyes looking increasingly more glassy, lost in his mind. "I doeth apologize that I was unaware, and that I knew not. He wilt art good, wilt he not?"

"Assumin' you said what I think you said, yeah, he'll be fine. I think he might be comin' around a bit. He's tryin' to," she said. She continued to stroke over his ears, noticing his hand take a firm hold on his jacket, his claw nearly breaking through its fabric. "But there's not really anythin' that you can do, Zestial. Just, let us have our space, and I'm sure Al will be ok. They usually don't last too long. It's been what, three minutes? Not bad."

"If it hits five minutes, we need to get him to the hospital. Mamá, is the hospital in your territory ready to handle a major overlord? It wouldn't be good for all of Hell to know that Alastor was there. Either that, or the one in Cannibal Town," Odette was watching the clock far more vigilantly than even Rosie was. Rosie was used to this. She would know if she had to do anything. But, even if it was annoying, she did appreciate Odette's effort. 

"Thanks, hun," Rosie replied. She tried to keep her calm, and just remember that Odette was trying. Everyone was trying. "Alastor prolly won't need the hospital. I'll tell you if he does. I know my fawn better than the back of my hand- and trust me, I know that thing quite well!" The other overlords in the room gave her shocked looks. She wondered if it was because of her joke, or her affection for Alastor. They probably didn't know.

Zestial looked at Carmilla, whose eyes remained on Alastor. She was thinking, trying to come up with any idea of how to help. At first, she felt like this whole thing was stupid- that Rosie's care for Alastor was only causing trouble to the rest of the overlords. But something about seeing her hug him, hold him, she wondered. She would do the same thing for her daughters, right? "I doeth not want to keep thee longer than thou art comfortable."

She shook her head at the taller overlord, taking his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze. "No, thank you Zestial but I'm fine," her somber tone said otherwise. She hated that she felt her motherly instincts kicking in. She wasn't racked by fear like the last time she had seen Alastor seizing. This was calmer, but yet somehow just as scary, even if she was more at peace with it all. "Are you sure that there is nothing that we can do, Rosalind?"

"Yeah, I'm more than sure, darlin'. Just, like I said, know that I've got this. I've done this many times over. He'll be ok," Rosie didn't notice Odette calling out that it had been five minutes, or Carmilla shushing her daughter with a gesture, cutting at her neck with her hand. All she noticed Carmilla coming to sit down next to her, watching Alastor intently. "Oh, Al, baby, you gotta breathe," Rosie said, noticing his suddenly shallow breaths. 

"Is- what is he doing?" Carmilla asked. Alastor suddenly jolted off of Rosie's lap, vaguely grasping for something in front of him. Carmilla got closer, taking his hand in her own, a nod from Rosie suggesting that it was ok. He held on tight, practically breaking the woman's flesh with his claws. "Alastor, oh, ok. Yeah, you can come to me," she instructed. He didn't seem to hear her, but he still reached out of her shoulders, gasping for air. 

Clara watched on, finally breaking her silence. She stood the furthest away from them, feeling a bit uneasy about it all. Alastor looked like he was in pain. Clara wasn't the type to be able to watch someone in pain. That's why her sister became the doctor, and not her. Part of her wanted to leave the room, she was feeling so uncomfortable. "Odette, are you sure that there's not like, I don't know, some sort of medicine you could give him?"

Suddenly, Zestial's eyes grew wide, a memory returning to him. Alastor, medicines, that wasn't a good combination. It had never been a good combination. He watched, not fully listening to what Odette said in reply to her sister- something about how she could probably find something. Carmilla, still with Alastor on her shoulder, giving him a glance, caught his eyes. "Zestial? Are you ok? You look like something is bothering you."

"Miss Clara did suggest that we may find some medications for our dear Alastor, didst the lady not? I doeth apologize, but I doeth not believe that such would be a good idea," Carmilla quickly nodded back at him, despite the confusion on the faces of her daughters. Then, Carmilla became confused, too. As far as she was aware, Zestial hadn't heard about Alastor's past experiences with medicine. Maybe he was just aware of the time period.

"May I ask, why not?" Clara asked. She took a step back from the overlord. She knew that Zestial wouldn't be mad at her for asking- and if he was, well, he would have her mamá at his throat. Sure, Zestial was older than Carmilla, but she also was, in theory, Hell's strongest overlord. After all, not many had so many angelic weapons at their fingertips. No one in Hell in their right mind, besides the Vs apparently, would pick a fight with her.

The elder demon cleared his throat, looking down at Carmilla. She had her hands wrapped around Alastor's arms, his head gently leaning over her shoulder. It was very endearing. For such a woman with a cold heart, she knew how to find her soft spot, sometimes. "He hast never been one to comply with medications. I has't known this sir for quite a long time. Alastor can be a much stubborn fellow, when it cometh to those things."

In all fairness, Alastor was very stubborn. He always wanted his way or no way. Alastor was wary around Zestial. He always seemed to challenge authority, so it was a bit odd to him that he never even tried to challenge him. Rosie suddenly interrupted his thoughts. "Zestial, you know that his dad made him take medicine that hurt him, right? He also caused the whole seizure thing. He's more than stubborn though, I agree with that!"

"Oh," Zestial wasn't quite ready for Rosie's sudden revelation. "I was unawares of that. I doeth apologize for appearing to be so malapert. I offer my most humble apologies for what he hast been through."

"No apologies, darlin'! You didn't know! I don't know who knows what anymore. Prolly time to fill you in!" Rosie laughed, sitting up to get a better grip on Alastor. "I do wish he'd come out of this, however."

Zestial tried to offer Rosie a warm smile, but he had a lot of thoughts running through his mind. Maybe that's why Alastor was so uneasy around him, he wondered. Zestial didn't use his magic, except for his summoning and his teleportation, often. Even then, he typically only used his summoning magic on simple things- a warm cup of tea, a nice book, something to eat. He didn't like to use his teleportation at all, if he was being honest.

But maybe that's why he was always so startled around him, his magic. The magic that he didn't like using, and not the teleportation type. A man much taller than him, who could create his own poison. Zestial felt regret. He was always friendly with Alastor, offering him tea and sweets. He had always pushed him, probably a bit too hard. Carmilla had always told him to be softer on Alastor. She knew there was something beneath the surface. 

Alastor slightly adjusted, half leaning on Carmilla, and half leaning on Rosie. He looked around, clearing his throat, and wincing in pain at his bottom lip. He suddenly realized that he was leaning on Carmilla, and not just Rosie. He sat up panting, sounding absolutely exhausted, as if he could sleep for a week on end. "Oh! Carmilla, I'm... it's nice to see you, again!" He immediately seemed uncomfortable with everyone in the room. 

Odette stepped forward, looking over him carefully, her red eyes confusing his still hazy mind more. "Hello, may I ask you a few questions? Do you know where you are at right now? Do you know the date?" Carmilla shot her eldest daughter another look, and she quickly stepped back, not even questioning her mother. Alastor looked at her confusedly, hands reaching up to his aching temples. He just wanted some peace and quiet.  

"Dear, he's fine..." Rosie's voice trailed off a little, her hand gently rubbing Alastor's back. She hated seeing him in such pain and discomfort, and she hated how scared he seemed. He had been through too much, and she just wanted it to end for him. She heard her phone ring, but she ignored it, focusing all of her attention on her deer. It continued to ring, but she continued to ignore it, not thinking about who would be calling. 

"I'm so sorry for the spectacle, I do apologize," Alastor said, leaning back into Rosie's arms. He hated looking this vulnerable in front of everyone, but especially such powerful overlords. Carmilla was keeping Odette back now, to at least give Alastor some room to recover, and for that, he was grateful. He looked at Clara. She looked quite nervous, which made him feel slightly guilty. What a fuss he had caused. 

It was such an unnecessary fuss, and not just because of how unnecessary his battle with Adam was. He was the Radio Demon, he didn't need help. He didn't need half of Hell in his room and fussing over him, especially with whatever antics he still had to deal with on the Vox front. He knew that he took immense pleasure in his suffering, even if he didn't quite know why. He just hoped that he didn't know too much yet. 

There was a time when they truly were friends, before that stupid picture box decided to go and ruin it. And now, his entire life was in shambles, partly because of him. He knew that he needed to accept the magic that was in his staff, and he knew that Vox was hellbent on making that impossible. He didn't understand why him having epilepsy and seizing in front of him wasn't enough to satisfy his desires. 

He thought that he heard footsteps, which immediately made his eyes dart towards the door. Maybe they were just hallucinations. His ears perked up, twitching around. Everyone else's eyes gradually shifted towards the door, too. Some scuffling began to be heard, bickering and arguing that immediately sounded familiar to Carmilla. The Overlord stepped towards the door, drawing an angelic knife, just in case. "What's going on?"

The door suddenly swung open, without even a knock. First in the room was Vaggie, closely followed by Velvette. They both looked mad, scowls on their faces as their eyes scanned the room, looking at the scene. Alastor leaning into Rosie, looking as if he was struggling to stay awake. The Cannibal Queen's nervous glances as she held onto him tightly. Odette's attentiveness. Vaggie sighed. "Did he have another one? And we need to talk."

Before she could even say anything to Vaggie or Velvette, she felt a little bit of shifting coming from the deer at her side. He pushed himself up, his face looking uncharacteristically upset. His ears were pinned to the back of his head, twitching every time Vaggie and Velvette ecxhanged barbs in their argument. She just hoped that Vaggie came with good news, but her worry was once again for Alastor. "Hun? You alright, Aly?"

She expected him to lie and say that he was fine, or even just pretend to be angry. But he didn't. He stayed silent, his eyes fixated on Vaggie and Velvette in front of him. His silence caused them both to quiet down. And then, he snapped. "Why does half of Hell have to be here to witness my downfall? Can't I just be left alone- if this is the end of my reign, so be it! Just please! I am done, and I cannot take a second more of this!"

Chapter Text

The whole room was stunned silent when Alastor finally snapped, his ears pressed to the back of his skull and his smile the most thin that most of them had every seen it. He was practically shaking, and it wasn't very obvious whether he was shaking in fear, or in sadness, or in rage, or some combination of those emotions. Tears began to pour down his face, and he was struggling to catch his breath. 

Everything felt like it was spinning, and he was beginning to gasp for air. Even he wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling, other than the sense of being completely and totally done. It was all just too much. Every eye in the room was looking at him. Rosie was bad enough. Even Vaggie was bad enough. But now he had the greatest Overlords in all of Hell there, as well as Vox's little best friend. He couldn't take it anymore. 

"I am done! I am just done. I get that you all want to see my downfall, isn't this what you wanted? The fall of the Radio Demon? If that's what you wanted, then that is what you are getting. Why don't you record it, post it online, put it up for everyone in Hell to see. Replace my broadcasts with my seizures, why don't you? Start betting on the souls that I own? Is this what you want to hear me say?" Alastor pulled away from Rosie.

"Alastor, that is not-" Carmilla stopped herself before she continued, her eyes fixated on Alastor's shaking form. She realized that saying that she wasn't here to hear him break probably wouldn't do anything. She stood up from the bed, heading towards the door, and taking Vaggie's small hands in her large ones. Vaggie looked shaken up herself, clearly still processing whatever she and Velvette talked about, on top of this now. 

"Then what is it! What is the point of any of this, anyways? What is the point of me still trying, of me still going out there and acting like I can heal, like I can get better, when it is beyond clear to me at this point that there is no hope!" Alastor placed his head in his hands. He was looking beyond weak, like he might just collapse. "Don't say that it is not why you're here, and if it isn't... well, just stop caring, damn it!"

"Baby boy, don't talk like that," Rosie said, her smile disappearing completely. She extended her arm, offering to wrap it around him, but the look that he gave her let her clearly know that he was not in the mood for touch. "We can't just stop carin' for ya, we love ya. And you can get better. I promise ya, that I'm gonna get ya there. Do ya want me to get everyone to leave?"

"Rosie, dear, I just want to... I don't know. I was going to say that I want to get better, but what's the point of even that anymore! You see who is here?" He vaguely gestured toward Velvette, who was watching, her eyes heavy with nervousness. She didn't expect Alastor to react like this, and she wasn't sure how to help, or if she should even try. "All of Hell is going to know! I am just- I'm never going to be who I was again."

Velvette finally spoke up. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but she wanted Alastor to know the truth. "Alastor, I promise you that I'm not gonna tell anyone anything. If you don't want people knowing, I won't let people know. It's that simple. And I'm for sure not telling Vox. I want to genuinely help you here, alright? No strings attached, ok? I don't like you, Alastor, but I... do care here. Unfortunately."

There was a large shriek of static from Alastor, the demon's eyes flickering back and forth between their normal red and his black sclera with red dials. Velvette stepped back, Alastor's ears suddenly going straight up again. "Well, if that is actually true, then stop caring! Why do you care for me! Why do you waste your time and your energy on caring for me! You would all just be better off if I was double dead!"

Silence. The only sound in the room was the faint ticking of the clock, and Alastor's still staggered- and rapidly increasing- breaths. No one moved, and no one spoke, their words caught in their throat. Alastor continued looking around, wiping the tears away from his face, his smile almost maniacally large. He had hit his breaking point. He suddenly stood up, even though he was a bit shaky still, and headed towards the door. 

Zestial reached out to stop him from leaving- no one knew what he would be doing or where he was off to. But he realized that that was a bad idea. Velvette simply stepped out of the way, not sure if Alastor would kill her, or somehow breakdown even worse, if she managed to put her hand on him. He reached out to the doorknob, but before he grabbed it, there was a gentle click, and the door swung open, practically in his face.

"Hi!" Charlie asked, quietly. She was going to ask how everyone was doing, and see how it was going. She immediately knew exactly how it was going when she saw Alastor standing there, practically growling. He froze, not pushing past her, but seemingly just waiting for her to move. "Ah. Is... can someone tell me what's going on in here?" Vaggie shook her head, trying to get the message across. 

"Charlotte!" Alastor said, suddenly snapping back to normal. He sounded as cheery as ever, but Charlie could see his facade beginning to slip already, along with the tear stains still on his face. "Not much is 'going on'! Just a bunch of people coming to pay their sick, weakly Overlord friend a visit! As people in Hell do!" There was clear venom and sarcasm in his voice. 

He finally gave up, trying to push past her. But Vaggie grabbed his arm, pulling him back, the deer starting to stumble over his feet. "Alastor, I don't think that you should be alone right now," she stated, her voice serious, "it's not that I don't trust you, but it's not safe. Charlie, he said something a bit... concerning," Charlie got the message clear just from what her girlfriend said, and her face was immediately filled with sadness. 

Alastor's eyes met Charlie's, and then they met Vaggie's. His expression was just about unreadable, looking like he could either have a breakdown, or act just like normal afterwards. He blinked slowly a few times, taking a deep breath, and then taking another. Then, he finally spoke. "Everyone, just leave me alone if you know what is good for you. If you know what is good for you, you will not come looking for me."

"I do not care what is good for me, Alastor!" Charlie said as Vaggie threw her angelic spear down, not allowing him to get away. He growled at her, but she didn't care. With her spear, she had the upper hand here no matter what, and he wasn't dumb enough to fight her. "I get what you're feeling, Al. I get it, and we're here for you, and we're gonna get you better. We are going to fix this, and we aren't going to stop until we do."

"Yes, we are going to help you. I get you not wanting it- I would say that most of the people in this room wouldn't want help. But there comes a point where you need it. Alastor, it looks bad, I know it does. But we're here to help you, no matter what you need," Vaggie started. She felt a pang in her heart with how absolutely hopeless he looked- she felt it. She had been there before herself.

"Why are you all so hellbent on helping me?" Alastor was getting riled up again, and his breathing was increasing. He was trying to not increase it, because he didn't want to trigger another seizure. "This whole thing is the worst, and there is no fixing it. Actually, does anyone else have any other news that they want to share? I can sense that you are all hiding something. Spill it."

"Well..." Vaggie started. Charlie looked at her confusedly- confused why she'd admit to having more news, and confused about what the news would be, in the first place. "Vox- Velvette told me that Vox has some pictures and stuff," Alastor emitted such a strong wave of static that his physical body started to fade, "but it will be alright. Velvette and I were talking, and I have information that can fix this, alright?

"And I do not want your information! I do not want fixing things! I want to just die a second death! Vaggie, you have that spear, what is stopping you from using it? My life is gone, my power is gone, my everything is gone and done and I want to just be gone and get this done and over with!" The room was somehow even more silent than before. Every last eye was staring at him, his hands held up in complete and total surrender.

Out of nowhere, several voices started talking, all at once. Charlie started to practically beg him, urging him to realize that everything was going to be ok, and that they just had to get through this so called rough patch. Vaggie was yelling something about how they would be there to support him, and that she didn't want him to even joke about her using the spear. Rosie sounded like she was about to cry. 

The deer stood silent, knowing that this whole episode was making him look weaker than he already looked. But he just couldn't find it within himself to care. He was sad and angry and scared, and these were all feelings that he never let himself feel. And now, he was feeling them all at once, with everyone around him. The cacophony of voices was beginning to overwhelm him. He just needed out, and fast. 

"Don't kill me," those were very ominous words, and they were coming from a very ominous source, as well. Velvette reached her hand towards him, which he quickly slapped away. Ok, note to self, don't do that. Velvette wasn't quite sure why she was doing this. But she was, and it was too late to turn back now. "Look, Alastor, we can fix this. I can get your reputation clean, ok? Just, can you please take a deep breath with me?"

"Deep breath? You want me to take a deep breath? And you want to help me? Again, Velvette, I truly am not that stupid! To believe that someone like you would like to help me!" His eyes met hers, and his shoulders shifted back. He was tired. He was so, so tired. He was too tired to fight anymore. He closed his eyes, and took the deep breath that she had requested. "What?"

"I was telling Vaggie here that I am smarter than you lot give me credit for. I can't fix things with the fossils here, or the one fossil's girls- the nerdy doctor one and the pre- Clara- or Rosie, or anyone in the Hotel. What I can fix is Vox. I... have my way to make him stop, and to make him not tell anyone about this, ok? They got your staff thingy in Cannibal Town, no? If I make him stop, will you accept it?" She sounded so... genuine. 

So that's why he ignored her. He looked over at Vaggie, who had her arms wrapped around Charlie, and she was still managing to balance her spear against her body. She was the one who supposedly negotiated whatever this was with Velvette, or at least talked to her far more than he did. "Should she continue?" Vaggie gave him a nod, and he reluctantly looked at Velvette. "What's the catch?"

”There is none, I swear,” she replied. Alastor didn’t quite believe her. She had to have some motive for this. Even if there were some souls in Hell who were genuinely doing good things for others’ sakes- which he believed deep down but refused to acknowledge- Velvette would not be one of them. She was Vox’s little pet, and his replacement. And the catch was probably something to benefit Vox. 

As far as he was aware, that was her whole role, anyways. That is how Vox had made it seem to him. She did the Vs bidding and marketing, and she would be an unnecessary hire to cater to the citizens of Hell if Vox had actually taken his advice and continued producing relics of the past. If anything, he found her a bit stupid, if she truly thought that she could trick him into doing Vox a favor. “Then, what’s your plan?”

”My plan is simple, Alastor. Vox owes me a favor, and I’m good at manipulating favors. My favor could be that he doesn’t ever mention this or anything of the sort again, that picture doesn’t get posted, and all will be well. Does that sound good?” Velvette was slightly angry at herself for even suggesting this. Alastor was the Vs biggest rival- no. He was Valentino and Vox’s biggest rival. There was a difference. 

Maybe, she could play her cards just right. Maybe she did have some ulterior motives here. She had always wanted the upper hand over the two of them. But how would helping Alastor help her? She doubted that he would give her anything in return- but maybe Charlie would. And that was definitely why she was doing it. Not out of some weird place of compassion, absolutely not. Definitely not it. 

Alastor continued to glare at her, waiting for some catch, any catch, any but. It would humble Vox, that's for sure, and it was his one hope at saving anything. He didn't trust Carmilla or Zestial- Alastor didn't trust anyone. But at least he could assume that they wouldn't broadcast his problem to the entirety of Hell. Unless he deserved it. Maybe he would have to make sure that he didn't. 

"Fine. I accept your ridiculous terms," Alastor said, finally breaking eye contact with her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Charlie's face light up with excitement. Of course, the only terms that Velvette had given him were that he had to work to accept his new staff, but he did find that rather ridiculous. He was still at odds whether or not there was any hope for him, and whether or not it was worth continuing. 

"Thank you," Velvette replied. She stuck out her hand again, offering Alastor a deal. He finally reached back, shaking hers. A very faint green glow showed up around his hand, her eyes shining in a bright pink. It was a small deal in the grand scheme of things, but even that was enough to make Alastor briefly gasp for air, falling back onto the bed, before Rosie and Carmilla helped him down. 

"You do realize now that he is going to murder you, right?" He refused to look back at her, subconsciously lowering himself into Rosie's arms again. He supposed that maybe he even overestimated her smarts. He respected her as another Overlord, even if she worked with that pompous blue hack. And even if she sometimes acted impulsively, she wasn't dumb. At least, he didn't think so. But this? This was dumb. 

"Babe, Alastor, I've got Vox wrapped around my little fingers!" A smirk crossed her face, as Alastor growled in response to the nickname. She was trying to convince herself that she had some genuine reason to do this, besides for some flicker of humanity that she had accidentally found. "He can't kill me. I'm the only one who knows how to make the Love Potion, and I'm the only one keeping him and Val from ending each other."

Was she trying to persuade Alastor to deal with her in future endeavors? She wasn't sure. But it was true. This move wasn't dumb, even if Vox was going to chew her out later. He knew that she was not someone that he could get rid of- which was exactly how she wanted it. That's when she saw Clara, her hand on Carmilla's shoulder. "I think it's a bad name for us, too, what he did with the camera. I'll get that fixed, all in the same favor."

Clara smiled warmly at Velvette, not entirely sure what that was all about. She didn't trust Velvette whatsoever, and by looking at Vaggie, neither did she. But, unlike Vaggie, deep down she wondered. Clara didn't like redemption or anything of the sort, but she could be a valuable asset to her mother's company. And that was definitely the only thing she was interested in. 

"Well, with that in mind, I do believe that we should go!" Alastor suddenly popped up again, blood rushing from his head and Rosie quickly stabilizing him. He wanted out of this room, and out of this situation. He walked to the door, holding it like a gentleman, and ushered everyone out. First was Charlie and Vaggie, clearly shaken, holding hands. Than Carmilla and Zestial, also holding hands, with Odette somewhere close behind. 

"You know, Al baby, I'm so proud of you," Rosie said, coming up behind Alastor and gently placing her head on his shoulder. He smiled slightly. He didn't like the thought of someone being proud of him, it was ridiculous. This whole thing was so, so silly. He still hated himself, but there was just a small bit of hope after his deal with Velvette. "Also, Velvette, thanks hunny for this!"

After Velvette responded, Alastor motioned for Rosie to leave, and she did so with her typical curtsey. "Why, I do not need your pride, Rosie dear. I just did what I think has the best chance of elevating my status!" She waved him off with a chuckle, and neither of them noticed Velvette spinning around, and sitting on the bed. Well, no one besides Clara. She was going to head out after Alastor, but instead, she sat down next to Velvette.

Chapter Text

It had been five days since Alastor had made the deal with Velvette. Five days since Alastor had shook her hand, agreeing to whatever her plan was that would keep Vox from leaking the proof of his condition everywhere. He supposed that the photos hadn't been leaked yet, so many she was holding up her end of the deal, but it didn't make him feel any better about the whole thing. 

How embarrassing. How embarrassing this whole situation was. He hadn't left Rosie's house since the deal had been done, not even accepting visits from Charlie. He didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to deal with anyone. It was bad enough that Rosie refused to leave his side, just in case he needed anything, calling upon her cannibals to deliver anything that they needed. 

Even if Alastor didn't see it, she was definitely seeing some improvement in him, at least mentally. He was eating more again, looking better, and he was even taking some of his pills. Not as often as Rosie would have hoped, but she was very glad that he was taking them regardless. As calm as she seemed however, when Alastor was asleep, the woman was working around the clock. 

She had gotten a telegraph from Caroline and Louis that morning. They said that they had remade Alastor's staff, physically closer to his old one. Much, much closer. They were still perfecting the magic, still trying to perfect everything that used to be in there. That was good enough news. Between the staff and the medicine, assuming that she could keep him taking them, she knew that they could probably get his seizures under control. 

The deer sinner yawned, coming closer to her. She brought her feet up on the couch next to her, breaking her own rule about not doing so. She just loved when he was so clingy. He was warm, and he sleepily bleated- oh, how she loved his little bleats. She loved everything about her deer boy. "Ya know I'm proud of you, right, Al? You're doin' so well. You're takin' your meds, and-" 

"Rosie, dear, I shouldn't be taking anything," he responded. He closed his eyes, rather exhausted, and his body hurting. He was trying to remember when the last time that he had actually had a seizure was, but it was probably at least two days ago. That was good. But. "I'm still weak and fragile. I shouldn't have needed that staff in the first place, or that deal with Velvette, or anything."

"It's just ok to need help, Aly," Rosie replied, the deer mouthing the words along with her as she spoke. He knew that it was coming, and just because she said it, didn't make it true to him. "We all need a little help sometimes. In fact, it's strong to go on ahead and accept help. You know, when I first got to Hell, not everythin' was as it is now. I only got here because people helped me."

Alastor opened his eyes again, just to roll them at her. "Please, I know. I just... never wanted this. I understand that it could be worse, but," he stopped himself before Rosie yelled at him for downplaying his situation. It was frustrating how caring she was sometimes. Even if, he had to admit, he was thankful. "Thank you, Rosie. Thank you for staying with me throughout all of this."

"Hun, it's my honor and privilege, ain't no need to thank me," Rosie replied, "I'm just so glad that you are doin' better. The end is in sight, baby boy. The end is in sight, and I'm gonna get ya there. In fact, a little birdie told me that their next attempt at ya staff might just be ready!" She wasn't sure how that was going to go over. She half expected him to back out, freaking out at the thought of trying again. 

But instead he sighed, only nuzzling into her more, poking her stomach with his antlers. "I suppose, but it won't be as good as the last one," ah, there was the complaining she knew and loved. "But I shouldn't need it. I'm sure that I'll be fine," a moment passed, Rosie waiting for what she knew was coming. "I need it. I really, really need it. I won't be the strongest in any room that I walk into without it, now will I!" 

"It ain't about bein' powerful," Rosie said, refusing to let him get up just yet. She began to scratch behind his ears again, Alastor melting into her practically. "Ya deserve it, Al. Ya only deserve the best of the best. Now, who says we go get ya that staff, if ya so willin' to try it?" Despite the obvious frustration from Alastor, he nodded, without saying another word. 

She could tell that he was still exhausted. She wriggled out from under him, heading to the bathroom to comb her hair before leaving. She started styling it, curling her white locks in her long, grey fingers, making sure it would sit right when she got her hat back on. When she got back to Alastor, he was already at the door. "Rosie, my darling. Are you sure that I'm... worth all of this?"

The Cannibal queen took a few more steps in silence toward him. Her heart ached. He didn't deserve to be thinking that way. She held his head in her hands, cold hands on his warm cheeks. "Alastor. Listen to me. You are worth it, more than anythin'. You are so, so worth it," she held him close, Alastor leaning into her touch. He loved her warmth. He loved her. 

"Ok. If you say so," he responded. He yawned, his gaze then turning over to the door. "Do you think that we should make up lost time and be on our way?" He felt her hand on his shoulder, slowly pulling away as she reached for her hat. Always in such perfect shape. Unlike him. 

"I'll get us there faster, hun," Rosie responded, pulling him into her smoke powers again. When the smoke cleared, they had reappeared in Caroline and Louis' shop. Rosie walked to the desk, ringing the bell, rather impatiently. She clearly didn't want Alastor to have the chance to change his mind and back out of getting his staff back. 

She could see Caroline approaching out of the corner of her vision, her beautiful, frilly red dress bouncing as she walked. But her eyes remained fixed on Alastor, how frail and tired he looked, enough to make her chuckle. Did he take his meds today. She was ready for this to be behind him. She was proud of him for doing so good. 

"Hello dearest!" Caroline snapped Rosie out of her thoughts, not even needing to ask what the woman was there for. "And hiyya, Alastor dear! Are you lookin' good and dashin' as always!" She tipped her hat at him, and Alastor only smiled. "Louis is comin' back with ya staff right now. Now Rosie, my sweetie, I don't want ya to work on sellin' my body to the butcher down the street, but." 

Rosie's expression hardened. That wasn't good news, and Rosie wasn't one to take to not good news well. "What is it, Caroline. You best not tell me that there was another hitch to... all of this," she motioned vaguely, not wanting to directly point at Alastor, as if he couldn't hear every word that she was saying. 

Caroline noticed Alastor watching them, his ears flicking around, desperate to pick up as much information as possible. She leaned in closely to Rosie, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't worry yourself too much about it, dearie, just... it's not all that strong. If ya have the pills for him, ya just gotta make sure that he's takin' 'em when he's supposed to be. Ya think that ya can do that?"

Alastor watched as four solid black eyes looked at him, before reconvening to each other's faces. He didn't like when people talked about him without it knowing. But Rosie whispered too low for him to hear- of course she knew exactly how low to keep her voice. "I can try. I'm hopin' that he'll agree to go back to the Hotel after he gets his staff. They can prolly help me."

Her words were returned with a solemn nod, Caroline about to speak, but Louis interrupting her. He carried with him a staff- Alastor's staff- it looked so perfect. It was just how he remembered it, fully healed, fully perfect. Alastor couldn't contain himself. He ignored Rosie yelling at him to stop, the demon practically tackling Louis as he ran behind the desk, pulling the staff into his hands. 

A wave of something flooded over him- emotion? Relief? Peace? Magic?- but it overcame him, his body beginning to tremble as he possessed his power again. It was almost a shock to his system, his brain feeling fuzzy, staticky, weird. But it quickly dissipated as he held on tighter, the fog lifting, the comfort returning, his life seemingly going back to normal now that he held it. 

He could feel it connect with his soul. He could feel it returning to him, him accepting it, it accepting him. Pride returned to him, a sense of not even needing it anymore- he was so powerful! And almost immediately, he felt weak again. His connection. He had to focus on it. He had to make sure his mind didn't slip back into his ego, back into thinking that he was better than it. That he didn't need it. 

The thought of it needing to consume his thoughts 24/7 was a bit worrisome- or maybe it was just making sure that he didn't get too caught in his own mindset to think that he didn't need it- or that he wasn't worthy of it. Not that he would ever admit it to himself, but that was going to be the far harder part of it all. 

"Baby, now ya gotta listen to me here," Caroline started talking, reaching out to him, but her words seemed to fall of deaf ears. He spun around, bringing the top of his microphone to his lips, giving it a kiss. He missed it. He missed it so much. "Alastor, listen to me."

"Why, thank you so much for fixing it," he said, not fully processing his words. He was grateful yes, but he was too enamored with being normal again to fully process everything. "It means so much to me! And now, Rosie dearest, why don't we get going home! Who knows, maybe we even can return to that little passion project of a Hotel soon!"

"Alastor!" This time, Caroline's voice was louder, slamming her hand against the desk. Alastor's eyes snapped to her, his ears pinning down against his head. How he hated loud sounds like that. "Thank ya. Baby, ya gotta listen to me and Miss Rosie, ok? You've gotta always keep your staff on you. And you've gotta take your pills whenever she tells you."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. He hated being told what to do, especially now. It was bad enough that he had spent every day since the battle needing care, but now, he wouldn't need it anymore. Besides his staff. Would thinking that way be enough for weaken his connection again? Maybe, if he didn't think too hard about it, it would be easier. 

"I'm serious. Ya need to take your pills, and ya need to believe in yourself baby. We're workin' on makin' it stronger, and we're not gonna give up, ok? But I know you, and you're gonna think that you can stop your pills. Now don't. Do you hear me?" Caroline sounded so serious. He shrugged, reluctantly nodding along. 

"And now, Caroline also did tell me one more thing," Rosie stepped up. She knew that Alastor would listen to her far better than he would listen to Caroline. "This ain't gonna... fix everythin'. Like Miss Caroline said, we're gonna work on it, ok? But even with the pills- which you are taking, do not fight me on that mister- you still need time to heal. And I'm proud of you for being willing to try it."

Of course it wasn't going to be a fix all. That would be too easy, wouldn't it? But it would be better. He had to hold onto that hope, even if he was still embarrassed beyond belief. And now, he had to fix that all. He had so much reputation to recover, he had so much work to do. But maybe it could get better. Maybe he could fix things. 

He sighed, holding his staff at its normal place now- both hands on its top, leaning on it comfortably. It was just so nice to feel it again, to feel its power, to just feel it. It felt so similar to his first one, it warmed his heart. "I suppose. But I do still think that we should get going," he didn't quite know why he was in such a rush. It was probably his anxiety about this- and knowing that he very much had not taken his medicine that morning. 

Rosie clapped her hands, Caroline and Louis quickly following suit. Alastor hated the attention in this way, but he went with it, taking a joking little bow. Then Rosie spoke again, Alastor not as thrilled as he was just a few moments ago. "So, Miss Morningstar said that she wanted to have you over once you got your staff. Just you and your pals, oh and she invited me too. Dearies Caroline and Louis are always welcome as well!" 

Great. Another event. isn't this how this whole mess started? After the battle, desperately trying to keep his composure, Angel Dust finding him, having the nerve to tell Charlie. He laughed to himself, not even sure if Rosie knew why. Things had their of going full circle at times. But at least things would be better now. He hoped. 

"Fine, fine, whatever you want, my dear," Alastor sighed. He tapped his staff against the ground as he walked towards Caroline and Louis again, sucking in his touch aversion to give them both grateful hugs. "Can we return to your home first, though? Just you and me. So we can talk," he was clearly going to go home and debate the medicines again. Oh well. 

Rosie was just proud that they got this far. She was the last to hug him, refusing to let him go at first. She could deal with his sometimes unpleasant attitude later, and she was more than fine with it. It was worth it to see him healthy. "Now come along, Alastor. We only got a few hours, trust, I already arranged for the event with the Princess tonight. I gotta get you lookin' spick and span."

It had been five days since Velvette had made the deal with Alastor. Five days since she shook Alastor's hand, agreeing to pull some strings to stop Vox from posting the news of Alastor's condition. And it had been five days since Vox had absolutely lost his mind at her for using this favor on keeping the whole thing close to the belt. 

She had heard Vox talking, he had big plans now. If he couldn't get Alastor that way, he was going to make all of Hell pay. And maybe even Heaven, now that Charlie had all of that sorted out. He was going to take over. He was going to make the Vees the greatest beings in all of existence. They were going to become gods. 

Rubbing styling gel between her hands, she was still thinking about her deal, how she wasn't sure why she even had agreed to it. Why she hadn't at least tried to squeeze something out of him for that. But maybe that was for the best. Maybe it would get them further, because she was definitely thinking 10 steps ahead when she had agreed to it and she definitely wasn't thinking with her heart for once. 

Later that day, she would have a meeting with Clara Carmine. She wasn't entirely sure why Clara wanted to see her, but Velvette was glad that she had reached out. Something about her presence was so comforting the other day. There was so much to get off her chest, so much that she knew that Vox and Valentino wouldn't care about. If anything, it would give them an upper hand that they truly didn't deserve. 

No matter what, it was still a dog eat dog world. What happened with Alastor brought her a sense of closure that she wasn't even aware that she needed. She had to watch her words even around her boys, not letting them know anything that they shouldn't. She had a feeling that they would pull away from each other eventually. If she made the right moves, she knew that she could come out on top. 

Parting her hair and separating it, she gave herself two large buns, a style that she used to like when she was alive. She let a few loose curls escape down the side of her face as she maneuvered her buns and secured them with a ponytail. She looked cute. She looked like her meeting with Clara meant something. No, it couldn't mean something. She had already let things mean too much. 

And maybe her deal with Alastor was what would allow her to get to the top of Hell's food chain. Maybe without it, Vox would have made it obvious how much of a pathetic loser he is. The smear campaign against Alastor would just be another operation of the Vees that would only become a whine fest for Vox. Alastor was at that dumb Hotel anyways, it didn't really matter. 

Finally, she laid down her edges, swooping down onto her forehead. She could have at least gotten Alastor's allegiance for their domination scheme- not that that wouldn't be the most distracting thing ever to Vox, anyways. Either way, what's in the past was in the past, and there was no undoing what was done. She could only move forward. And maybe try to forget about it.