Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everything was in ruins, after the battle was over. Everyone was hurt, the hotel was in shambles, and Sir Pentious…But it was okay! Because they could rebuild. They could patch things up and build an even better hotel and everything would be perfect so long as they were together!

And it was. It was a perfect hotel with the perfect group of people enjoying a perfect day together (well…as perfect as it can get in hell). That is, until two figures, glowing so bright it could burn off one’s retinas, crashed right into the lobby.

Charlie looked around as everyone recovered from the impact, wanting to make sure her friends were okay. Luckily, everyone seemed to be suffering no more than scrapes and bruises as they picked themselves up from the floor. And then she took a look at what it was that actually crashed into the hotel and —

“Emily?!” She shouted, running over to help the young seraphim up. Emily coughed, trying to straighten out her wings and then wincing when she couldn’t. Charlie put her other hand on Emily’s back for support. Her wings were pretty banged up—broken, if she had to guess. Vaggie ran up to her side, putting one hand on Charlie’s arm and the other on Emily’s.

Charlie had no idea why this was happening, but she had to help—it’s what she does! “I–It’ll be okay, don’t worry! We’ll take care of you, and my dad can—”

And then Charlie was cut off by the unmistakable voice of Angel Dust saying “Holy shit.”

And then Charlie looked back up, at where Angel was, and she saw a second figure rising from the rubble—a second familiar, snake-like figure. He was dressed in all white, gold, and blue, but there was no mistaking who it was.

Before she could even react, Cherri Bomb was bounding across the room towards him. She grabbed Pentious’s face and looked him right in the eye.

“Wh–What the fuck?! You’re alive?!” She screeched. “H–How? I— We saw you die! That’s…That’s…”

And then Emily desperately dug her nails into Charlie’s arms, like she was seconds away from dying. “Charlie!” She croaked out. Clearly, she had taken most of the damage in the fall, and it wasn’t treating her well. “Y–Your hotel! It worked!”

Charlie’s heart skipped a beat, and if she were any less careful she might have dropped Emily. She looked from Emily to Sir Pentious and then back to Emily. “Wait, you mean—”

Sir Pentious cut in, breaking free from Cherri’s hold to help support Emily. “Yesss! After Adam blasted me into oblivion, I respawned in heaven!”

And hearing that, Charlie could only laugh. About seven different emotions and a generous serving of adrenaline was coursing through her veins. So many thoughts were running through her mind—namely how and why and what the fuck, but most importantly:

“But, Emily, what are you doing down here? And why did you have to… fall.”

She didn’t want to say it, but that’s exactly what this is. For an angel to crash into Hell like this…it only meant that there was no intention of ever going back up.

But before Emily could answer, a glowing portal opened a few feet away, and out of it stepped none other than the senior Seraphim—her gaze cold.

“Emily,” Sera said. “I told you that you were not to come down here.”

“No,” Emily said, pulling herself in tighter to Charlie, “you said you wouldn’t open a portal for me to get down here. You said nothing about me finding my own way!”

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady. You know certainly well what I meant. Is this your rebellious stage finally kicking in?”

“I’m not a child!” shouted Emily, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “I’m a seraphim, just like you are! And you’ve never treated me like one!”

“Emily—”

“No! You never let me do anything to actually help people—which is supposed to be my job! So if you won’t let me, I’m going to do it whether you approve or not!”

“You’re being ridiculous! Stop with this insolence and come here. If we get everything smoothed over here quickly, we can get back to heaven without the high council even noticing.”

“I’m not going back, Sera. This was the last straw. I sat by and watched you do this for long enough, because it was supposed to help people, but this? This is too far!”

And hearing that, Charlie just couldn’t help but interrupt. This was something she very much needed to know as well.

“Wait, Emily, what are you talking about?”

Emily looked at her, fear and desperation in her eyes. “Th–The angels—when a human soul arrives in Heaven, the angels erase all of their bad memories, because Heaven is supposed to be a happy place.”

Alarm bells rang in Charlie’s head. “Wait, what?” She had already been suspicious of Heaven’s practices since the trial, but this…

“B–But when Sir Pentious arrived, they didn’t just want to erase his bad memories! They wanted to take all of them!”

“We just do what is necessary for the good of our people,” Sera argued, unrelenting.

“You do what’s necessary to keep the masses unaware and compliant!” Emily fought back. So worried about what they’d do if they found out sinners could be redeemed that you’d make an innocent man forget everyone who’s ever loved him!”

“He is not innocent! He’s a filthy sinner! Putting lipstick on a pig doesn’t mean it’s suddenly anything other than swine!”

“Why you—”

But before Emily could finish that sentence, Sera started to glow, hot and bright, morphing into a terrifying mess of wings and eyes that monopolized the space and struck fear into Charlie’s heart. And then her voice boomed out, loud and commanding:

“ENOUGH!”

And that shut everyone up. For a moment, the hotel was quiet as everyone stared at the terrifying figure of an angel before them in utter silence. And then everyone dropped to their knees and started screaming.

Well, everyone that is, except herself, Emily, Sera, and her father.

She slapped her hands over her ears while trying to maintain her hold on Emily. Without Vaggie and Pentious helping, she was suddenly a lot heavier. Emily had her own hands over her ears as well, screwing her eyes shut and curling in on herself.

Her friends were making noises she hadn’t even known they were capable of—shrieking in such a shrill, horrid manner she was surprised all of the glass wasn’t breaking. Her heart was beating out of her chest as she surveyed the room, and sure enough, it was all of them—even Alastor, who she knew would never be caught dead like this, wasn’t exempt. It was somewhat horrifying, seeing someone so…untouchable reduced to this.

Frantically, she looked around for help, and when her eyes landed on her father, he clapped his hands twice, and everything…stopped.

In that moment, time seemed to freeze for everyone except for the few angels left standing. Her father marched over to Sera, his face reading nothing but rage.

“Wait, Dad, you can do this?” She asked, incredulous. She had never heard of this before, let alone seen it. Why didn’t he do this during the fight?

Now that they had time to breathe, she helped Emily to one of the still intact chairs and helped her sit down, making sure not to put pressure on her wings.

“Not for very long,” he said, his voice much quicker than usual. “And the intended purpose is to give promising nonbelievers brief bouts of revelation, so it only works on human souls. Now, Sera, you are going to explain what the fuck you just did to the residents of my daughter’s hotel while we have time.”

Sera looked around at the frozen souls, curled up in a moment of sheer agony. She was trying to keep her cool, but panic had already set in to her features. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“I think I know,” said Emily. “She was trying to erase everyone’s memory at once. But it backfired.”

“I—I’ve never done it to this many souls at once before!”

“Fucking hell, Sera, that’s because you’re not supposed to!” He barked. “I told heaven it was a bad idea, but no, no one ever listens to the runt of the litter!" Emily coughed. "Now look where we are!”

Sera looked…almost apologetic. “Truly, I didn’t intend for this to—”

Her father didn’t let Sera finish that sentence. “Heaven’s souls is one thing, but to do this to my people! You have no jurisdiction! No right!”

“Dad, calm down!” Charlie intervened. “Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere. There’s gotta be some way to fix this, right?”

Her father put a finger to his chin, thinking it over. “I think so. If I can still remember how the process was meant to work, it goes through their memories one by one to check which ones should be deleted. If I had to guess, I think it’s stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“Stuck—on a certain memory. Like when a printer jams because a sheet of paper is stuck.”

“So, how do we fix it, then? We can't just yank the memory out like a sheet of paper, can we?” Actually, even if they could, she wouldn’t want to do that anyways.

“No. But we do still need to fix the problem. So, I think, the only way to fix the problem would be to go in.”

“...go in? What are you talking about?”

“Go into the memory. And once you get in there, you’ll figure out why it’s stuck and…unstuck it. Charlie, you’ll need to go in.”

“Wh— me?! B-But I don’t know anything about this memory stuff like you do! And how do I even unstuck a memory anyways!”

Her father approached her, putting reassuring hands on her shoulders. “Charlie, you may not know about memories, but you do know your friends—much, much better than I do. If anyone can get them out of this, it’s going to be you. Even I’ll admit I don’t know much about the process, but I know you can do this. You are so, so strong, and so capable.”

Charlie felt tears running down her cheeks. “But…what if I mess up? What…What if they’re stuck like this forever?”

Her father gently cradled her cheek. “ What if doesn’t matter, because if you don’t try, they absolutely will be. You fought a war against heaven, you can navigate your friends’ memories.”

She leaned into his hand and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll do it. Send me in.”

“That's my girl. While you’re in there, I’ll take care of the…smaller one,” he shot Emily a glance, “sorry, I don’t know your name—and make sure this one,” he glared at Sera, “doesn’t try anything. Now, I can’t actually do anything else while I have time like this, so…pardon your ears!”

And in an instant, everyone was unfrozen and the shrieking resumed. But Charlie barely even had time to cover her ears before her vision went white and fuzzy, and she felt herself getting whisked away into a memory.

Chapter Text

When Charlie came to, she found she was standing in the middle of the street somewhere—somewhere…unfamiliar. She looked around, observing her surroundings and the passersby and the architecture before coming to one conclusion: she was not in hell. But, of course, where was she? And, as she’s seen characters in time travel movies say, when was she?

Obviously she was on Earth, that much was clear, but she had never been to Earth before and as such had no idea of any of the places there. She had heard of them from sinners and the like, of course, but she was terribly out of touch. She was in a city somewhere with tall, grand, complex architecture and wet streets that were recovering from the rain. Looking around, everyone was dressed very elaborately—the women with big dresses in lots of layers and ruffles, and the men in neatly pressed suits reminiscent of the kind popular in Hell at the moment. Looking down, she saw that she too was wearing one of these very big, ruffly dresses. Classy.

Before she could finish examining her outfit, a man approached her. He had a thin mustache and a devious look on his face. Charlie may have been naive, but even she knows danger when she sees it. As the man approached her, she took a step back.

“Why hello there, Miss, I couldn’t help but notice—are you out here by yourself on such a fine day?”

His voice was very prim and proper, and it had a very distinctive accent that she recognized as British. Right, so she must be somewhere in Britain. That helped narrow it down. But she could worry about that later, right now she had a strange man approaching her who she did not know. HIs words may have been polite, but she was getting nervous with how he was looking at her. It reminded her of that time she went to meet Angel’s boss. She tried to be polite to everyone, but some men are…difficult.

“Uh…yes, I…am out here alone, Sir?” She said awkwardly, clearing her throat as she took another step back. There was no point in denying it; it was plain as day.

“Is that so? Where’s your husband? Out on errands, are you? Maybe going to meet your girlfriends? Or, could it be, a pretty thing like you is somehow unwed?”

Charlie’s eyes darted around. This was out in public, so if he tried anything everyone would see. Still, this looked like it was a rather long time ago, and she knows that even on Earth people were less…delicate about these sorts of manners not even one hundred years ago.

So, she decided to lie. In all of her experience dating both men and women, there was usually only one thing that deterred creepy men:

“No, Sir, I do in fact have a husband!” She said as confidently as she could. 

“Right, well where is he, then? Surely he can’t be a very good one if he leaves his wife in the middle of the road unsupervised.”

Charlie swallowed nervously. She hadn’t gotten that far yet. “He’s…ah…”

And then she heard a voice from behind her. “Right here,” it said—hoarse and masculine.

She turned around and was greeted with another man. He was a little taller than her, with warm brown skin and long black hair, tied back in a loose ponytail. He was also dressed rather sharply, although his nice clothing was a bit dirty.

It was funny—she had never seen this man before, but he felt…familiar. She felt like she could trust him.

But whether she actually could trust him or not, he was kind of her only option right now. So she said:

“Oh! Yes! Hello…Dear. There you are! I…lost you for a minute there!”

“Yes, my apologies,” the man spoke. He had an accent too, but it wasn’t British. She couldn’t remember where it was from off the top of her head, though. She should have paid more attention when her father was teaching her about earth. “I simply got a bit distracted. Is this man giving you any trouble?”

The creepy man looked at Charlie, then at the other man, and then back at her. He furrowed his brow and scoffed. “Really? This is your husband? Hmph. Any girl who would pick a man of that sort was never worth my time to begin with.” 

Now, Charlie may be inexperienced with Earth, but she knows a bigot when she sees one. She was about to open her mouth to argue when the creepy man turned on his tail and walked off. She then turned to the helpful stranger to thank him when…

“Oh, thank goodness!” He let out a loud sigh, seeming to almost deflate. “I was starting to think he would never leave. My heart is pounding.”

He wrapped his arms around himself, and Charlie let out a small laugh. “Really? If it’s that scary for you, imagine how it must have been for me.”

Instantly the man’s eyes widened and he took a step back, waving his arms around. “No, no, no, I—I didn’t mean to imply, er, wait—”

Charlie laughed again. So this was his game, huh? Act all tough for five minutes before cracking—the type who loved to play the cool guy and the hero, but was really just kind of a dork. In fact, it reminded her of…

Then the man let his hair down, raking his hands through it until it settled down his back, parting in the middle, and…

No way.

She knew he was familiar! His voice sounded significantly less… snake-y, but that was Sir Pentious!

“Hey! Don’t worry about it,” she cut off his rambling. “Thank you for saving me.”

Pentious bowed his head. It was funny, seeing him as a human. He somehow looked completely different than she imagined. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss?’

“Oh! Actually, there is. What year is it? And where am I?”

Pentious’s head snapped up, staring at her blankly. “I’m sorry?”

Oh. Yeah. Maybe she should have thought that one through. Well, there was no backing out now.

“I asked, um, what year it is and where am I?”

Pentious blinked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but did you hit your head?”

Well, it’s not like she has a better excuse. 

“Uh…yes. Yes I did.” 

“Oh dear, well that’s not very good. I can’t believe that man! Taking advantage of a poor woman who had just hurt herself like that!”

Charlie suppressed a smile as he ranted on to himself about how women should be treated. For a moment she wondered why he ever ended up in hell, before remembering everything she learned at the trial. Still, perhaps he was the first ever redeemed sinner for a reason.

“Anyhow, if you’ve hurt yourself, it’s imperative you get looked at by a doctor. I know a good one nearby, allow me to take you!”

If that’s what it took to spend more time with him, so be it. Time to go see a doctor for a nonexistent head injury. “Lead the way!”

“Wonderful,” and then he extended the crook of his arm out, waiting for her to take it. When she hesitated, he instantly got all embarrassed again. “Er, uh, sorry, you may walk on your own if you please! It’s just, if you’ve hit your head it may be hard to walk—”

She smiled at him and took his arm.

“Oh. Good,” he let out a relieved sigh. And then something else seemed to shock him, his eyes growing wide. Yep, that was Sir Pentious alright—ever the neurotic mess.

“I’m so sorry, Miss, do forgive me, but I never asked your name!”

“Oh, it’s Charlie!”

He paused. “Pardon me, I might still be unfamiliar with English naming customs—isn’t that usually a man’s name?”

Was it? As far as she was aware it was a regular nickname for her given name. But then again, she didn’t even know when the hell she was. “Oh, uh, sorry, that’s just what some people call me. Actually my name’s Charlotte.”

“Oh, that’s a lovely name!”

“You know, this is usually when you say your own name.”

“Oh dear! I’ve been so distracted—my name is Bhaskar. Pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.”

“Pleasure to meet you too! Although, I do really want to know when and where I am.”

“Oh, right. The year is 1887, and we are in London.”

That was over 100 years ago. She was still very young back then, and didn’t really remember what the sinners were like. Sir Pentious was probably the oldest sinner in the hotel. Or…had been, anyways. She tried not to think about it.

After a short walk of idle chatter, they arrived at what appeared to be a small clinic. Pentious opened the door without even knocking. “Hello, Mr. Downed, it’s me again!” He called out.

A voice could be heard coming down the hall. “Bhaskar, if you have blown yourself up again with another of your experiments I swear to our father in heaven I will—” And then he walked in. “Oh, well now, who’s this pretty young thing you’ve brought with you?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. Pentious cleared his throat.

“Just a girl I ran into on the street—she’s hit her head, you see. I just want to make sure she’s alright, nothing more, nothing less.”

“It’s always nothing more, nothing less. Don’t you think it’s about time you go for something more? It’s been, remind me, three years since Ophelia—?”

“Now is not the time for this discussion!” Pentious cut him off. Okay, so Charlie was definitely asking about this Ophelia later.

“Yes, yes,” the Doctor said, waving a hand dismissively. Then he turned to Charlie, extending a hand for her. “Arthur Downed, apothecary by trade. What appears to be the issue?’

“Oh, I just hit my head, and uh…forgot some things.’

“Hm, alright. I think I can get you checked out here. Tell me, what’s your name?”

“Charlotte.”

“What is the current year?”

“Er, 1887—but I forgot that part! P–uh, Bhaskar reminded me!”

“Right, and who is the current ruler of our great country? Or, hm, you’re American, are you not? Perhaps I should be asking you who the current president is.”

Did she talk like an American? Guess so. Well, it didn’t really matter because she didn’t know the answer to either of those questions. 

“Um…don’t you have a queen named Elizabeth?” She guessed blindly. The apothecary laughed.

“You’re off by quite a few hundred years there, Miss. Our queen is named Victoria.”

Oh, right, that was…wait, now that she thinks about it, didn’t Queen Elizabeth just show up in Hell? The British monarchy was so confusing. She laughed nervously, and Downed continued to ask questions

“Now, tell me, how old are you?”

Charlie blinked. That was an excellent question. “Twenty…two?”

He frowned. “I’m not fond of how you had to hesitate there. How tall are you?”

Oh, that one was easy. “6’5!”

He furrowed his brow. “You might want to try that again.”

…what? Charlie looked around the room, actually paying attention to where he line of sight was relative to the things in it and…huh. She had heard that demons tended to be taller than humans, but it hadn’t really clicked until now.

“...5’5?” She tried again.

“There we are.”

Charlie cleared her throat. “That was uh…slip of the tongue, sir?”

“If that’s what you claim. Now, follow my finger.” He put a finger in front of her face and moved it back and forth slowly. She followed it. “Tell me, any headaches, dizziness, throwing up, sensitivity to light?” She shook her head.

“Well then,” he took a step back and then turned to address Pentious. “If I had to wager a guess, I would say she might be concussed, but other than the issues with her memory, she appears to be doing fine. I can’t advise anything other than a few days' rest. Do bring her back if the symptoms worsen.”

Charlie frowned, not liking how this doctor was addressing Pentious and not her—as if he were her keeper and not just some guy she just met on the street.

“But she isn’t—” Pentious began to say before Downed gave him a look. Pentious sighed. “Yes, yes, I understand. Good day.”

Then he took Charlie by the arm, a bit suddenly, and brought her outside, shutting the door with some force.

“I apologize, for his…assumptions,” Pentious said as soon as they were outside. “He’s a good man, and a good doctor, he’s just…you know how it is.’

Charlie nodded. She had had encounters with this type many times before in Hell.

“He just…wants to see good things for me, I suppose.”

Oh! Perfect opportunity! “Is this about that ‘Ophelia’ he mentioned?”

Pentious sighed. “Yes. She…was my wife.”

Charlie’s heart sank a little, hearing that. “I’m…so sorry to hear that.”

He waved a hand. “Oh, no, it’s not like that. Or, well, it is, but it’s…more complicated.”

“Tell me about it. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s listening.”

“Hm, well, after being subject to that, I suppose you deserve to know. It’s really not that interesting of a story. A few years ago, she…had gotten fed up with me, I suppose. I’ve always been very dedicated to my work, you see, and sometimes it isn’t entirely…safe. She always disapproved. Naturally, I didn’t want to hear any of it, and I fear that over time I grew…rather unkind to her. She didn’t deserve any of that. So it’s only logical that she would eventually take off. I woke up one morning to find her missing, with a note saying she had gone to stay with her sister in the countryside. And…she took our little boy with her.”

And that just about broke her heart. Sir Pentious had had a son this entire time and never told anybody? It must be a painful memory for him. She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“No, it’s alright. The story doesn’t go on much from there. A few years back I received a letter from her sister telling me she had passed—consumption, it was. Happens to the best of us. I was also told…not to come for her service. Apparently our son didn’t want me there.”

“Oh, Bhaskar, I am so sorry that happened to you.” She wanted to give him a hug, but she figured they’d probably just get more suggestive looks from onlookers. “Have you tried contacting him?”

He nodded. “I’ve written letter after letter, but no reply ever comes. He’s made it patently clear what he thinks of his failure of a father.

“Hey, hey, don’t say that! Listen, relationships between parents and children can be…tough, but I’m sure he doesn’t really mean any of that. You messed up, sure, but…he’s just angry, that’s all. Underneath all of that, I’m sure he still loves you. Children never stop needing their fathers.”

And hearing that, he gave her a lopsided smile—one full of uncertainty and fear, but hope as well. “Is that really true?”

Charlie beamed brightly at him. This was only a memory—it wasn’t really happening, and it wouldn’t have an effect on the life he had actually lived…but, if he was in so much pain and agony right now…she was sure that this was what he needed to hear.

“Absolutely it is. I’m certain.”

“...Thank you, Miss Charlotte. That…is very helpful to hear.”

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he looked like he was about to say something else, but whatever it was, Charlie didn’t get to hear it, because her vision started going all white and blurry, and she felt herself being pulled into another memory.

Chapter Text

When her vision cleared, the first thing she noticed was crowd. She was surrounded on all sides by young women, pushing and shoving and excitedly shouting. They were all wearing long, loose-fitting colorful dresses that just muddled her vision even more. In all of the chaos, she could really only tell one thing, and it’s that they were excited. 

She managed to shove her way to the front of the crowd and finally get some air. When she did, she noticed that they appeared to be standing in front of a…well, if the sign was to be believed, it was a radio broadcasting studio. Well, she has a strong feeling that she knows who she’s going to run into next.

Still, what was with this crowd? Amongst all of the shouting, she was able to catch the attention of one of the women to her right.

“Hi—I’m so sorry, but, er, what is it you’re all waiting for?” She shouted over the noise.

“Why, you don’t know?” The woman shouted back. Based on her accent, it appeared they were somewhere in the American south. “We’re waiting for Al, dear, our little local celebrity~”

Yep. Sounds like her suspicions were right—although she was a bit surprised to find out that he went by his real name in Hell. Names are power, so that’s pretty ballsy. “Oh, is that so? I had no idea he was so famous!”

“Well, he’s not quite yet, but he will be! He’s already taken New Orleans by storm! Why, I swear, by 1925 his name will be known all over the country!”

Well, that answered her two biggest questions. She might have asked more if she had the time, but then the doors of the building swung open and out stepped a familiar figure. Like herself, he was shorter than he was in hell, but he was still the tallest person present. He looked younger than she was expecting; this must have been a while before his death. His hair was a bit shorter, his skin was light brown, and his formal manner of dress had a much more reasonable brown-and-white color palette rather than the bleeding red of hell, but undoubtedly, that was her friend. She would recognize that smile anywhere.

Immediately the horde of young women pounced. Well, not literally, but they may as well have with how they were crowded so close to him it was uncomfortable even for her to watch. 

“Really, ladies, I’m flattered! But you do understand, I must be getting home…” His words were drowned out by the praises of the crowd, asking him to come out on the town with them, or join them for dinner, or whatever else they thought might score them a date.

If Charlie recalled correctly, dating was something so far off of Alastor’s mind he hardly even understood the concept half the time. She had watched men and women alike shoot their shot, and more often than not he didn’t even realize that’s what they were doing.

So, needless to say, she felt it pertinent she rescue him from this situation. Besides, how else was she going to be able to unstuck the memory? She stood there pondering for a moment, wondering what she should do, before she suddenly remembered what had literally just happened to her. She’d have to thank Pentious later.

She approached the crowd and started pushing them apart, much to all of their confusion.

“Alastor! There you are! I have been waiting so long for you to get off of work!” She said especially loudly. He looked a bit confused, but she winked at him, and recognition crossed his face.

“Yes, I apologize for that, darling, I’m just here to give the people what they want!” He put a hand on her arm, and some of the women backed off. “But really, we must be going! Dinner is waiting for us!”

The crowd of women all looked at her with some form of resentment, scoffing and turning up their noses. A few of them muttered some things under their breath, but the crowd dispersed, leaving just her and Alastor.

“Are you alright?” She asked him. “Always being swarmed like that must be exhausting. I’m Charlotte, by the way.”

“Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said. “They mean well. Unlike me, when it happens to them it’s done with bad intentions.”

It was odd, hearing him without the radio filter over his voice. He still had that noticeable transatlantic accent that everyone who worked in entertainment from his era seemed to have, but without the radio filter, it almost sounded…wrong.

“Hah, you’re right about that one. I actually learned that trick from a friend of mine who had to pretend to be my husband once. That guy was scary!”

Alastor laughed. “Well, since you appear to be such an expert on unwanted attention, I gather you’re not here for the same reason those girls were?”

Not even wanting to think about the prospect, she shook her head emphatically. “No. No, no. I uh…I actually have someone already! So…I just happened to be passing by and wanted to help out!”

“Well, that’s nice of you, dear. I truly cannot thank you enough. Actually…if you would be open to the idea…dinner is still waiting. Or, more accurately, waiting for me to make it, but the offer still stands. Just as repayment for helping me out there. I know my mother would love the company.”

And Charlie pauses. His mother? I mean, naturally, everyone had parents, once. Even the most dastardly of Hell’s overlords! But somehow…the idea of Alastor ever having a family had never crossed her mind. It felt more like he suddenly just appeared one day.

Charlie was so lost in thought she hadn’t realized he hadn’t said anything.

“Unless you have someone waiting for you to be home? I understand. Or is it that you don’t want to be seen with someone of my…complexion?”

Wow, what a delicate way to ask if she was racist. Leave it to Alastor and his big fancy words. “Oh! No! Sorry, I got distracted. No, I have nowhere to be tonight and I would love to be seen with you!”

“Splending, Darling. Unfortunately I don’t yet make enough to have a car to take you in, so oblige me for a walk?”

So they began a lovely stroll through New Orleans as the sun set behind them, chatting about nothing in particular (mainly how much he makes as a radio personality, since the opportunity to ask arose). Just like he was in hell, he was his polite, gentlemanly self, except now he wasn’t followed by a constant aura of death and pain that skeeves out anyone in the room. His words seemed genuine, and not like every single one of them had an ulterior motive. She couldn’t help but find herself wondering what changed.

Eventually he led her to a humble, one-story home by the water.

“This is where I live with my mother,” he said with a smile. “I hope that it’s enough for your liking.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you could live under a bridge and I wouldn’t care,” she said as he opened the door for her.

The first thing she saw when she stepped in was an older woman who must have been his mother. She had dark brown skin and curly hair that fell down her shoulders—just starting to gray. She was standing in the kitchen and had a bowl in her hands. Her face lit up when they walked in.

Alastor immediately ran to her side, taking the bowl from her hands. It housed a dish that was primarily rice, cut-up meat, and various greens. Come to think of it, Alastor had cooked this a few times at the hotel. Was it his mother’s recipe? That was…surprisingly wholesome.

“Maman,” He said, placing a hand on her back. “I told you I would cook tonight.”

Interestingly, when he said that, his usual accent faltered, and despite his hushed voice, she could hear another accent slip out—one much more reminiscent of where they were actually located, like the girls she had chased off.

“Oh, I know baby, but you’ve just been workin’ so hard for me lately, I thought I’d make your favorite.” She said with a smile—but it was strained, just like her voice was. Then she turned to look at Charlie. “And who’s this?”

“Just an acquaintance who helped me scare off some desperate bachelorettes. You know how it is. I thought I’d invite her over for dinner as thanks. Her name is Charlotte.”

She smiled at Charlie, with a bit of a twinkle in her eye. “Well, I’m just glad my little boy is makin’ friends.” And then, suddenly, she broke out in a coughing fit, hunching over. Alastor hurried to put the bowl down on the kitchen table and support his mother.

“I told you not to push yourself,” he said with a worried voice. “You should be resting.” Then he said something to her in a language that sounded like French. Man, where was Husk to translate when you needed him?

His mother collected herself, taking a deep breath. “Nonsense. We’ve got company, after all. Come, sit.”

She gestured at the table, already set, so Charlie did as she was told. Alastor helped his mother sit as well, before taking his seat last. 

“Go ahead and try it,” his mother said, “Al swears that my cookin’ is the best this side of the Mississippi, but that’s only ‘cause he has to.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Alastor interjected. His mother shot him a look, and he instantly shut up. Charlie suppressed a laugh. To think, the great and powerful radio demon brought to his knees by a sickly, aging southern woman. The power of a mother was really something. It was sweet, really. She wondered why Alastor never shared this part of himself. Perhaps, was he worried it was vulnerability? Weakness?

She pondered this as she served herself a helping of the dish and took a bite. Instantly, it brought a smile to her face. Warm, savory, and delicious, of course, but she could really tell it was made with love and care.

“It’s wonderful, Ma’am!”

Alastor looked rather smug. “I told you.”

His mother laughed. “Well then I suppose I’ll just have to believe it.”

They continued to chat as they ate—mostly it was just Charlie drinking in the interactions between mother and son that she knew she would never see again after this—and it went well until she asked Alastor a specific question:

“So, Alastor, is it just you and your mom? No father?”

The table fell silent. Oh no.

“Oh, um, if it’s a sensitive topic, you don’t have to—”

“No, honey, it’s alright,” his mother said with a sigh. “It’s just us, and that’s how it’s always been.”

“...What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Charlie was a bit wary to ask, but she felt like this was important. It could probably help free the memory.

The woman let out a long hum. “When I was a much younger woman, I met a white boy and he stole my heart. As I’m sure you can work out, it was a big deal. We had to sneak around in secret, because we knew what would happen if we got caught. And my family was in an… especially rough spot, you could say. But I was convinced he could give me the world, even if the world wouldn’t allow it. I was young and stupid.”

Alastor reached over and grabbed his mother’s hand. “Maman–”

She ignored him and kept talking. “He didn’t give me the world, but he did give me a child. But he…didn’t want to face the consequences of having a child of, how did he say it again… impure blood, was it?”

Charlie made a face. “Wow, fuck that guy.”

They both stared at her.

“Uh, I mean, that’s terrible!”

They both laughed, and as they did, Alastor caught her eye. He was smiling, genuinely, in a way that wasn’t forced and condescending. He was smiling for real and he looked so…happy. What did he do that could have sent him to hell—separated him from his mother like this?

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” his mother said. Then she looked at her son. “I like her. You should bring her ‘round more often.”

“Maybe I will,” he replied, and it sounded genuine.

After they were done eating, his mother excused herself. “I’m feeling tired,” she said, and Charlie 100% believed that, what with all the lines on her face and how she carried herself like she was about to crumble into dust. The woman looked at Charlie. “Thank you for coming over, sugar. I haven’t had a dinner like this in quite some time.” Then she kissed her son on the cheek. “And thank you for bringin’ her, and for workin’ so hard for me.” 

“It’s not work at all,” Alastor argued.

“Whatever you say, baby,” she replied before excusing herself to another room.

And in that moment, Charlie saw something she was convinced she would never see ever—Alastor was frowning.

And then he caught her staring, and quickly put a small smile back on.

“Everything alright, dear?” He asked.

“...If you don’t mind me asking, what does she have?”

Alastor sighed. “That’s the thing—we’re not sure. The doctors won’t believe us, but she can hardly stand. If I had more money I could take her out of Louisiana, find a doctor that would listen for once, but, well…”

“Well?”

“As much as I love hosting my radio show, it’s not exactly…secure. It’ll only go on for as long as people will listen, and I have been…running out of content, so to speak.”

“I have no clue what that means.”

“Right, I don’t believe I ever told you what my show is about! Apologies. Well, people often say it’s too macabre, but I report on violent crime—most often murders.”

Oh. So he ran the 1920’s equivalent of a true crime podcast. Well, that explains all of the obsessed young women.

“...and you’re running out of murders?”

“It’s supply and demand, sweetheart. With so much demand, you run out of supply very quickly. And unfortunately, I can’t call up the people in charge and tell them to make more supply.”

Charlie laughed nervously. Yeah, this was much more like the Alastor she knew. “Er–I wouldn’t call that unfortunate—”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s… good, that people aren’t getting murdered…right?”

Maybe she should stop talking.

“...Well, I can’t argue with that. Although, don’t you think there are at least a few people who deserve it? Scum that the world would be better off without?”

She was starting to figure out why he went to hell. 

“Uh…”

And then Alastor seemed to register something, as he looked at her with those wide eyes and that unsettling grin, and he cleared his throat. “Apologies, dear, this isn’t quite dinner-table conversation. I suppose I’ve just had philosophy on my mind lately.”

“Yep! Yeah, totally get it, philosophy is, uh…cool? Anyways…I know I can’t do anything about it, but…I hope you get to find a good doctor. Your mom really deserves one.”

Alastor hummed, looking off in the direction his mother had disappeared to. “She deserves so much more than that.”

And then Charlie’s vision started going white again, so she tried to immortalize this picture of Alastor in her mind before it was gone forever.

Chapter Text

The next thing Charlie knew, it was the middle of the night, and she was standing in front of a very busy street. Looking around, it appeared she was somewhere downtown, as she was surrounded by a variety of shops and businesses—all tall buildings and street lights. When she looked down at her outfit, it was very different from the style of the 1920s. Now she was wearing a short, fitted dress that cinched tightly around the waist with buttons and a large collar.

Suddenly, a man stormed out of one of the buildings down the street. One quick look at it told her it was a bar of some sort. The man looked angry, and three more followed him out. Out of curiosity, she snuck up closer to them as inconspicuously as she could. She wanted to catch their conversation—if this was a pattern, it was probably important.

“Don’t get cute with me!” One of his pursuers yelled. “The last few deliveries have been short a few grams. We know it’s you!”

The man didn’t turn around, or even so much as stop walking before he spoke. “I told ya, ask my brother! He’s in charge.”

Well. That voice certainly sounded familiar. And if not the voice, she could recognize Angel Dust’s attitude in a heartbeat.

“You think we didn’t try that first? We know he’s coverin’ for you! Just ‘cause you’re blood, he’s forced to take care of the family fuck-up.”

And then Angel whipped around, reached into his coat, and pulled out a fucking gun. The men all backed away, and even Charlie was surprised. She had known he was good with guns, but this was different; she didn’t know jack shit about arms, but this one didn’t look like the kind she had seen him use before—those ones couldn’t fit in your pocket. As far as she knew, he didn’t actually carry. But it looks like whatever he had spent his life doing might have required it.

“Hey, woah, not out in the open!” One of the pursuers said.

Angel scoffed. “What, think I’m afraid of a few witnesses? Fuck off. It’s our word against theirs, pal. Our pockets are deeper than you know.”

The three men all looked at each other for a moment before deciding to high tail it out of there, although as they left, she could hear someone mutter “talk about a fuckin’ trigger finger…”

So, this left just Angel, with her standing about ten feet away. She took the time to observe him, because if she hadn’t heard him speak, she’d hardly be able to believe this was the same sinner she was friends with. He was dressed in a manner that was just so…un-Angel Dust. He was wearing a high quality suit—tan with pinstripes—and it was entirely up to code, tucked in and buttoned in all of the right places. She could never imagine Angel Dust wearing this ever. What was even more worrying, though, was that he just looked… sick. His cheeks were all sunken in, his skin red and patchy, dark bags around his eyes, and his blond hair looked thin and unmanaged. Quite frankly, he looked like he was about to drop dead any minute now.

She watched him put the gun away and then reach into one of his jacket’s outside pockets, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one, and just as she was trying to figure out how to approach him, he noticed her. His head suddenly turned and he looked her right in the eye, which nearly made her jump.

“What are you lookin’ at, toots?” He asked, clearly not in a friendly mood. She decided to ignore that and step closer to him.

“Um…can you help me?”

“No.”

She ignored that as well. “Can you tell me where I am? I’m lost.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You mean the address? Can’t you read?”

She really needs to start thinking these through. “No, I mean, uh…”

However, seeing her confusion, he seemed to soften a bit.

“Oh. You’re in Manhattan. You ain't from around here, are ya?”

Manhattan! That was in New York City. She knew that much. Anyways, this was an opening!

“No, I’m not. Actually, I just ran away…from a…cult?” Yeah. Sure. That works. “So…can you also tell me what year it is?”

He was looking at her all sympathetic now. “Damn, really? Tough shit. It’s 1945—we just won the war. You know about the war?”

“Yes!” she said, and that part wasn’t a lie. She remembers how the 1940s had been a terrible time for Hell. “In fact, it was…a doomsday cult…about the war.”

“Christ. And I thought my life was shitty. Now I feel bad. Sorry. What are ya gonna do?”

“...I don’t know.”

He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. “Shit. That’s rough. What’s your name?”

“Charlotte.”

“People ever call you Lottie?”

Ew, no. “Can’t say they do.”

“What about Charlie?”

A smile instantly broke out on her face. “Yes, actually! I’ve always been called Charlie!”

“Well, nice to meetcha, Charlie. I’m Anthony.”

Right, that was Angel’s name wasn’t it? She had heard Husk mention it before.

“Do people ever call you Tony?”

He gave a dry laugh. “Only people I don’t like. Anyhow, I’m sorry about your situation. I’d offer to help, but…ya don’t wanna get mixed up with me, trust me. Hell, ya might have been better off in your doomsday cult.”

“Is this about those men from earlier?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You saw that? And ya still asked me for help? Geez, did the cult not teach you common sense?’

“I’m not afraid of guns.”

“Then what the hell did they teach you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it?”

He shrugged. “Fair enough. Well…I suppose I could put you up with my sister for the night. She just loves ta’ take in strays, and she hasn’t had a new one ever since her piece-’a-shit husband ran off with his secretary." 

Oh, this was getting somewhere! She had no idea about any of his family “Sister?”

“Yeah. Hang on,” He turned to the street and held his arm up, hailing the nearest taxi. They got into the back, and he told the driver where to go. Once they were situated, she immediately made sure to get the conversation right back to where it was.

“So…you have a sister?”

“Sure do. I guess God decided one a’ me just wasn’t enough, so another one popped out five minutes later.”

Oh! This was new. He didn’t just have siblings, but a twin? And he never mentioned her? What could possibly have happened? 

Though, she had a feeling she already knew the answer. 

He continued. “Although, even though I came first, she was the one who got all tha’ attention, ‘cause my mom finally got her little girl. I don’t hold it against her though. And my dad already got the son he wanted a few years back, so I was just the spare. Jokes on them though, I grew up to be a head taller than my big brother!” He laughed smugly to himself. Then his smile faded, and he looked a bit miffed. “‘Course, Dad never liked Molly either,” he dropped his sister’s name, gazing out the window. “To this day, he’s still convinced Mom was havin’ an affair. I guess I can’t blame him.” He looked back over at her. “I mean, does a pair a’ pale blondies scream Italian to you?”

She had no idea what Italians were supposed to look like. “...No?”

“Exactly.”

Okay, now she had to ask. “Well…was she having an affair?”

He shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Although honestly, I kinda wish she was. If it means I ain’t related to that man, I’d be happy.”

Okay! Daddy issues. Join the club!

Then, the car slowed to a stop.

“This the right place?” Asked the taxi driver.

Angel gave a cursory glance out the window. “Yep.” He opened the door and stepped out, and Charlie followed. He went up to the driver’s side and paid the fare, and then the car drove off. 

“Well then, we’re here,” he gestured in front of him at a nice two-story house that she assumed wasn’t bought with clean money. 

She followed him up to the door and he opened it without knocking.

“Hey Moll?” He called into the house. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Charlie heard the clicking of heels, and then a figure rounded the corner and greeted them in the entryway. Even if she hadn’t already been told, Charlie would have been immediately able to work out that she was Angel Dust’s sister, given her impressive height and long blonde hair. As soon as Molly spotted them, her face lit up.

She dashed down the hall and threw herself onto her brother, squealing like a much younger woman. “ Anthonyyyyy!” She said in delight, kicking her feet a little. She kissed him on the cheek, and he smiled at her, a soft but genuine one, and Charlie couldn’t help but smile as well. It was something she rarely ever saw at the hotel. She liked seeing him happy.

“Oh, you shoulda’ told me you were comin’!” She said as her feet landed back on the floor. “I woulda’ made dinner for ya! What’s the occasion? It’s been so long!” And then she looked over at Charlie, and a smug expression crossed her face. “Eh? What’s this? So the rumors aren’t true! My brother is finally bringin' a girl home!”

He reached over and smacked her upside the head.

“Ow!”

He looked at Charlie, unimpressed. “Don’t listen to a word my sister says. She was dropped on her head as an infant.”

And then Charlie heard two smaller voices and two pairs of tiny footsteps approach them. Not long after, two small children bounded in—an older boy, who appeared to be about eight or nine, and a little girl who was maybe five or six.

The two children immediately ran to Angel’s side, the boy gripping his jacket and the girl jumping up and down. “Uncle Anthony!” They cheered excitedly.

Angel broke out into a laugh. Bending down to pick up what Charlie assumed was his niece. He kissed her on the forehead. “And how are my favorite niece and nephew doin’? Don’t tell Alessio and Maria I said that, ‘cause then they’ll tell their dad and I’ll get in trouble,” he said as he ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Wow, you’ve gotten so big!”

The boy pouted. “You only say that ‘cause you never come visit anymore.”

“Sorry! Sorry. I’ve been busy. I promise, I’ll make it up to ya.”

As Charlie observed the sweet moment, she couldn’t help but feel an ache deep inside her. Angel Dust had people on earth who he clearly loved dearly, and he hadn’t seen any of them in…what, 80 years? And a twin sister…as an only child, she could barely imagine what it was like to have siblings in general, let alone a twin. To have someone who had been by your side from the moment you were born—who shared half of your DNA and every single one of your developmental milestones and life experiences up to a certain point—just to be separated from them forever? The thought alone was heartbreaking. And all for what? Being a drug addict? (Well, with the way he was waving that gun around earlier, maybe it was for more than that—but he didn’t do that stuff anymore).

“Kids, why are you out of bed?” Molly asked, putting her hands on her hips all motherly.

“We heard voices,” the boy said. The girl nodded.

Molly sighed, brushing some hair out of her daughter’s face. “Well, I suppose it can’t be helped.” She took her daughter out of Angel’s arms and put her back on the floor. “Run back to bed, you two.”

The kids pouted. “But we want to stay with Uncle Anthony!”

“It’s late, and he’ll still be here in the morning.”

“I will?” Angel interjected. Molly gave him a look. “Uh, yes! I will. Go get a good night’s rest, 'kay? And we can hang out tomorrow. Promise.”

“Okayyyy,” little voices rang out. Then the two children wrapped themselves around their uncle, the boy about waist high and the girl awkwardly clinging to his legs, before bounding back down the hallway.

Angel sighed. “Well. Guess I’m stayin’ the night.”

“You sure are!” Molly replied. “Now, who’s this lovely young thing ya brought to my doorstep?”

“Some lost girl I found wanderin' tha’ streets. Normally that sorta thing wouldn’t interest me, but she told me she just escaped a fuckin’ cult, so I figured you might wanna meet her. Her name’s Charlie.”

Instantly, Molly’s hands were on either of her cheeks, cradling her like she was the baby Jesus. “Oh, you poor thing!” She looked at her brother. “You were right to bring her here,” then back at Charlie. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll getcha’ all cleaned and fed and taken care of. And ya know, a friend a’ mine told me about a job offerin’ that I think would be just perfect for—”

Angel coughed.

“Right. I’ll save that for tomorrow. For now, we need to getcha somethin’ ta' eat!” she dropped Charlie’s face and started to walk in the direction of the kitchen.

“Oh! You don’t need to do that! I'm not hungry," she said honestly. She had just eaten at Alastor's, after all. "It’s really late. Really, I’m just…tired? Yeah, I think I’d just like to rest.”

Molly eyed her suspiciously, but let it go. “If you say so. In that case, follow me, I’ll show ya to your room.” Charlie obeyed, and Angel followed too, closing the door behind him. Molly led them upstairs, which seemed to be where all of the bedrooms were. “Here, this is our guest room,” Molly said, opening the door to one of the bedrooms and Charlie followed her in. “Anthony can sleep on the couch.” She heard Angel make an offended noise, but he didn’t say anything.

“You just get situated in there, and ya can borrow some of my pajamas! I’ll go fetch some—I’ll be right back!” She dashed out of the room, and in mere seconds she returned with a neatly folded set of pajamas in her arms, which she set on the bed. “Alright, I’ll leave you to get changed and go to sleep then! If you need anythin’, my room is right next to yours!”

“Uh, thank you!” Charlie said. And she meant it, but…where was she supposed to go from here?”

“You’re welcome honey! Is there anythin’ else ya need?”

“Nope. Just a…good night’s sleep, I guess?” Hm, this seemed like the wrong direction, but she wasn't really sure what else she could say.

“Alright then. If you’re so worried about gettin’ to bed, I suggest you do it. Sleep well!” And then Molly left, and shut the door behind her.

Awkwardly, Charlie sat down on the bed, unsure of what to do alone in a bedroom. But then she heard Angel’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Hey, Moll, can I…talk to you?’

Charlie stood up and crept up to the door, pressing herself against it to listen in. She wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but she figured this was important.

“About anythin’, Anthony. What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “I can’t stay here much longer.”

“...Whaddya mean?”

“Molly, I…I did some bad things—things I don’t even wanna say. And they’re—they’re onto me!”

“Who?”

“Everyone! Everyone this family’s ever had a problem with. They’re all just collectin’ evidence, waiting for it all to fall into place until they can prove I…well, until the family can’t cover for me anymore.”

“Anthony—”

“I know. I know. I’ve…got a problem. And it’s fucked everythin’ up. So I can’t stay here. I gotta get outta New York.”

“Well, where are ya gonna go?”

“I…met this guy. He’s headin’ west in a few weeks. He offered ta’ take me with ‘im.”

“And how well do you know this man?’

“...Not well, I’ll admit. But he—he likes me, I think! And it might be my only chance to—”

“Anthony.”

Silence. 

Molly spoke again. “Ya…Ya can’t do this—leave me an’ the kids behind for some guy ya just met!”

“What, like you’re one to talk? You barely knew your fella for even a year and now look where he is!”

More silence.

“...Sorry. I shouldn’ta’ said that.”

“No. You’re right. And that’s why I’m scared, Anthony. You’re always so quick to just blindly chase after things you want without seein’ the truth. It runs in the family, it seems.”

Charlie pressed herself against the door even further, totally engulfed in the conversation, but it appeared that Molly didn’t close the door all of the way, because it edged open ever so slightly, and Charlie felt her heart drop. Through the crack in the door, she saw the twins look over at her.

A molotov cocktail of emotions flashed across Angel’s face all at once, from fear to betrayal to anger, and he stormed over, swinging the door open. “How long were you listening to that? How much did you hear?”

“I didn’t mean to—I swear! I—I just had a question and I was waiting for a good time to ask!” She lied, scrambling to come up with the first thing she could think of.

“Bullshit!” He yelled. He was always good at calling her bluff.

“Hey, calm down!” Molly said, putting a hand on her brother’s arm. “She’s lost and confused and she doesn’t know anyone. She don't mean any harm. And what could she even do?”

Angel took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. “...Yeah. You’re right.” It was crazy, how quickly she was able to calm him down. He looked back over at Charlie. “Sorry for…for yellin’. I know you must be confused right now.”

She nodded, trying her best to sell the cult story. She was in too deep now.

Suddenly, the voice of a little girl was heard.

“Mama?” Molly’s daughter asked, emerging from her room across the hall. “Why are you yelling?”

“Oh, I’m sorry baby—” Molly walked over to her daughter, crouching down to her level. “It’s grownup talk.”

The girl sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m scared.”

Molly pet her hair, worried. “It’s okay. You have nothin’ to be afraid of. Here, let me tuck you back in, okay?”

The girl nodded. “Okay…” And then Molly disappeared into the bedroom with her after shooting them a quick look.

Angel let out a deep sigh, sinking to the floor and pulling his knees up to his chest. Charlie sat next to him.

“Listen,” he said. “Don’t go repeatin’ any a’ that, ya hear?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t. But, well, with the family business an’ all…it would be real bad if it made it out there. They…They wouldn’t be happy, that’s for sure.”

Charlie folded her hands. There was a question brewing in her mind that she couldn’t ignore. She felt it must be the key to freeing this memory. “I understand. But…are you going to do it? Go west with some guy you just met?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still thinkin’ about it. He gave me two weeks to decide.”

“Well, what are the reasons not to?”

“Well, mostly I just don’t wanna leave Molly all by herself. I mean, she’d have the rest of the family, but they just don’t get her. She’s too kind. And…”

“And?”

“And I don’t know about him. Of course, I like all the attention he gives me an’ everythin’, but he’s…not very nice to me, sometimes. Or ta’ other people. He gets all violent when he gets angry. Reminds me of my father like that.”

Well, that certainly reminded Charlie of someone. “But do you like him?”

He pulled his knees closer to his chest. “...I do. Is that wrong? Am I just fucked up beyond repair?”

“Ang—Anthony, of course not. You can’t control it. You know, I heard someone say once, we accept the love we think we deserve.” That book was light years away from coming out, so she must have sounded like a genius.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, considering the sentiment. Charlie watched him think it over, furrowing his brow before looking over at her.

“...Well, yeah. After everythin’ I’ve done, ain't it the love I deserve?”

Without thinking, she put her hands on his shoulders, and he flinched, but then relaxed into her hold.

“No. Never say something like that. Love doesn’t work like that. It…It’s not some sort of punishment, or a gift. It just…blooms. And sometimes it hurts, but sometimes it does just the opposite—and that’s what it’s meant to do. And no matter the weight of your sin, receiving love isn’t going to redeem you, or fix you, but…being loved— really loved—will show you there’s still good out there, whether you deserve it or not. Because love isn’t about deserving. It’s about helping each other grow, and be the best versions of yourselves you can be.”

And that’s when Charlie realized what she was doing. “Oh! Sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble like that.”

She expected him to just roll her eyes like he always did when she gave speeches like that, but instead his expression was rather…serious, like he was really listening for once.

“Really? I never heard it put like that before. You’re rather wise for someone who just escaped a cult.”

“...As they always say, what would Jesus do?”

Was it heresy of her to say that? As the princess of Hell? She’d have to ask her dad later.

He laughed. “Well, I’ve never been one for all that Jesus stuff, but I always did like how he loved everyone. Even the sinners.”

“Really though, we’re all sinners, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. Yeah I suppose so.”

And then Charlie felt the familiar pull of another memory, and before she knew it, she was already gone.

Chapter Text

Suddenly, Charlie was standing in a grocery store staring at a shelf of cleaning products. Then she heard a voice behind her:

“Move.”

Well that voice sounded familiar. She whipped around and was faced with a short young woman who looked about her age. She had short black hair that had clearly been curled the night before, pale skin, and thin eyes, and she was wearing a skirt with a poodle on it that Charlie knew she had seen before. Yep, that was Niffty alright.

“You’re in the way,” Niffty narrowed her eyes. She had an accent that she certainly didn’t have in the hotel. It must have gone away over time.

“Oh! Sorry,” Charlie said, stepping out of the way allowing Niffty to reach forward and grab a bottle of some chemical. It was strange, seeing Niffty with two eyes and two extra feet of height, even if Charlie still had to look down at her.

Speaking of looking down, one cursory glance showed her that she had a white blouse tucked into a pink skirt that ended just above her knees, revealing a pair of saddle shoes.

“So, tell me,” she said, a bit desperate to get a conversation started. “Is that product good?”

“Yes,” Niffty replied curtly. “I use it to clean my bathroom every day.”

Seems not a lot has changed since she died. “You like cleaning?”

“I have to make sure the house is perfect for my husband.”

Charlie paused. Husband?! A man had actually agreed to marry her? Then again, that did explain her skillset. “You seem like a very good wife.”

Niffty sighed and knit her brow. 

Charlie blinked. “...am I wrong?”

“No. You’re right. But my husband doesn’t seem to think so.”

“...Why not?”

“I don’t know! I do everything all of the magazines say a good American wife is supposed to do!” She stamped her foot angrily, looking down at the ground. “But he doesn’t like any of it! He’s always mean to me! He…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “...doesn’t even want to touch me anymore.”

And Charlie sympathized with that, she really did. She had seen many a marriage fall apart in Hell. In fact, she’d seen way more of them fall apart than actually work.

“Hey, I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not your fault,” she said. Actually, knowing Niffty, it very well could be her fault, but she probably didn’t need to hear that right now. “Do you know what’s bothering him so much?”

“...I think he never wanted to come to this country.”

“Oh, really? Where are you from?”

“Japan.” That explained the accent. “I begged and begged and begged him to move here. I think he finally just got tired of saying no. Maybe I should have stopped asking, but…it’s been my dream to live in America, ever since I was a little girl! I’ve been learning English all my life for it!”

“Why didn’t he want to come?”

Niffty scoffed. “Because he’s still sore about the war, like everyone else. But come on! It’s been like, seven years! Get over it!”

Hm. ‘Get over it’ would not be Charlie’s first reaction to a war, but that sure was Niffty alright. Given what she knew about America’s wars, she did some quick math in her head and determined the year must be 1952.

Niffty continued to rant. “And every time I tell him this, he gets all upset about our country’s honor, and how I’m betraying our people and he never should have married me! I like bad boys, but not when they say stuff like that. Sometimes, when he says that kind of stuff, I just wanna…” and then she put her fists on top of each other and squeezed her hands so hard they started shaking. It reminded Charlie of how she would stab cockroaches scurrying around the hotel, or…other things. Hm. That probably wasn’t a good sign.

Suddenly, Niffty dropped her hands to her side and looked over at Charlie with an almost eerie smile. “But what I want to do isn’t important. I wish he would stop saying that stuff.”

Charlie rubbed the back of her neck. “Mm, yeah, I’m starting to see what the problem is. Listen, ah, what’s your name?”

“Kimiko.”

“Kimiko, honestly, maybe it’s best you shouldn’t stay together.”

Niffty gasped. “You mean…get…” she dropped her voice to a whisper again, “divorced?”

“Yeah. Then he can go back to Japan, and you can stay here in America.”

Actually, was that possible? She didn’t know anything about American immigration laws, be it now or the 1950s.

“But then I wouldn’t have a husband. I can’t find one in America. And what am I supposed to do then?”

“Maybe you need to stop chasing men. Figure out what else you want to do with your life besides cleaning for other people.”

Niffty crossed her arms. “I can’t do that. Women can’t do that.”

“Says who?”

“Says…everyone!”

“Who cares what they say?”

“I do!”

“Why? Why is it so important a man dictate your life? Where is it written down that you have to do that? Who made that a rule?”

Niffty didn’t say anything.

"See?"

“You’re weird, lady.”

Charlie laughed. “Maybe I am. But just give it some thought, okay?”

“Okay.”

And that seemed to fix the memory, because Charlie’s vision started to white out again not long after hearing that.

Chapter Text

Suddenly it was the dead of night, and Charlie found herself standing underneath an awning, shielding her from the rain. She took a look at what she was wearing and the first thing she saw was pants! It seems women were finally allowed to wear pants. That was a relief. She liked to wear dresses and skirts on special occasions, and they looked amazing on her girlfriend, but this was more her style. They flared at the bottom and were a bright orange, complementing the hot pink top and matching chunky sandals she was wearing with it—oh! Those were feet. Human feet. Not hooves. That made sense, actually, but it was still a shock. 

Then she heard someone coughing, and she cast her gaze in its direction—slightly ahead of her at the sidewalk ahead—and saw a man, soaked to the bone, start to pull himself up off the ground. Charlie instantly ran up to his side and helped him to his feet, pulling him under the awning.

“Oh my—are you okay?” she asked as they made their way under the awning. He leaned against the wall with a sigh. He was a short, stout older man with graying hair that contrasted his dark skin. Suddenly, an idea popped into Charlie's head: “Did you hit your head? Tell me—what year is it? And where are you?”

“Geez, they didn’t rough me up that bad,” the man said, and Charlie instantly recognized his smooth, deep voice, even if he was considerably less furry. She almost asked what he meant by that before she took a good look at his face, illuminated by the light of the building behind them (which a cursory glance told her was a casino), and saw he was sporting one hell of a black eye and a split lip.

“Wow, you look really hurt!” She said in 100% honesty. “That’s really worrying. Are you sure you can’t tell me the year and location?” She said in no honesty. “And your name?” She tacked on at the last minute.

“Fine, if it’ll getcha to stop askin’. Lotta care for a man you don’t even know. It’s 1976, I’m in Vegas, my name is Dominic, and the current president is Gerald Ford. That enough for you?”

She wanted to say “Gee, no need to be so rude about it!” but he obviously already knew that. So instead she asked: “What happened?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m a good samaritan.” (Can I say that? counter: 2).

He scoffed. “What, you gonna take me to the hospital or somethin’?”

“If I have to. I’m Charlie, by the way.”

He paused. Clearly he wasn’t expecting her to answer that.

“...It’s nothin’ you need to worry about, kid. Got a little too carried away in a game of poker.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and rummaged around. “Shit…”

“What happened?”

“Those bastards really took everything. I can’t even pay for a goddamn cab.”

Charlie shoved her hands in her own pockets, and found them empty. “Well, I’d offer to spot you, but I don’t have any money either.”

He let out a dry laugh. “What, you get a little carried away too?”

“No, I never went in there, actually, just…taking shelter from the rain.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you went downtown with no money in your pockets?”

“...I forgot my wallet.”

“Hey, take it from me, that’s probably a good thing,” he said. Suddenly, he found a quarter in one of his pockets, and that seemed to cheer him up a bit. He said nothing before promptly walking off into the rain. She was a little confused until she saw there was a phone booth on the corner and he was heading right towards it. 

She watched him insert the coin and pick up the phone. She couldn’t hear him, but judging by his facial expressions he was being yelled at. After a quick conversation, he hung up the phone and walked back over.

“Who was that?” She asked.

“My ride. She told me to wait here.” He replied, although he didn’t seem happy about it.

“She?”

“My ex-wife. Well, one of ‘em, anyways.”

Okay, this was news! Charlie had no idea Husk had been married, let alone multiple times. She wanted to instantly launch a barrage of questions, but kept her resolve.

“One of them?”

“I would say I’m unlucky in love, but when you’ve been divorced three times, you start to identify a common denominator.”

Charlie was about to lose her mind. “Three times?!”

“I know, I know, who would marry me?” He looked a bit bitter. Charlie instantly scrambled to cover up her mistake.

“No! I mean, you’re looking really good for your age!” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. “I’m just wondering…why would she agree to marry you if you had already been divorced twice?”

“Same reason she’s coming to pick me up. For some reason unknown to me, she loved me. Still does. Even though I just gambled away all her alimony.”

“And do you still love her?”

“Don’t ask such loaded questions.”

“How is that a loaded question?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

The urge to say but I’m older than you! was strong. Instead she said the smart thing which was:

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. “You ever have a boyfriend before?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but he answered his own question. “Never mind. You’re an attractive young woman. ‘Course you have.”

Well that wasn’t very progressive of him. Guess things were still pretty backwards in 1976. But…he also wasn’t wrong.

He continued. “I bet when you first started dating him, you were obsessed with each other, right?”

“Well, yeah, but…where is this going?”

“I bet that’s how you think love is going to be like forever. But eventually, it wears off, and you see each other for who you truly are, and you realize you never even liked what you thought you saw in the first place.”

“Wow. That’s a horrible way to think about love.”

“But what do you do then? After all the time and energy put into the relationship, do you break up? Or do you try to make it work because you feel like you must love him just because you did once? Because you still feel like you love him, even if you’re not sure you really do, right?”

“Well, I…” she didn’t have an answer to that. She had never thought about it that deeply before. All of her relationships had been rather straightforward, either not lasting long enough for it to really matter or coming to a definite conclusion. Vaggie was her longest relationship to date, but even then they’d only been together a few years. How long had Husk been with any of his previous partners? A long time? He’s had a lot of time to experience it. Was this how they were destined to turn out? Chasing a ghost of the relationship they once had because they couldn’t let go? She hoped not.

“Exactly. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

“...Do you think all relationships turn out like that?”

“Shit, if it’s not all of ‘em, it might as well be. Things can’t go on as they always do forever.”

Hm. That sentiment sounded right, but…

“Well, sure, but who said they have to get worse? Can’t they change for the better?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“...I suppose it’s possible. But it’s not for me.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Yeah? What makes you so sure? You don’t even know me.”

“I think everyone can get better.”

“You’re opening yourself up for heartbreak with that one.”

“But how can you appreciate love if you don’t also know heartbreak?”

He stared at her. “You really are the glass half full type, aren’tcha?”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“...I guess not.”

Suddenly, a car pulled up in front of them.

“Well, looks like the ex-Missus is here to tear me a new one. This is where we part ways, good samaritan.”

“I guess it is. I hope you and your ex-wife…or, all of them, can make up.”

He laughed, but this one didn’t seem sarcastic or bitter. “In your dreams, kid.”

And as she watched him get into the passenger seat, she felt another memory calling her.

Chapter Text

Before Charlie could see where she was, she heard it. The first sensation she registered was music so loud she could feel it. As she slapped her hands over her ears, she doubled over a bit, staring down at the floor. It was too dark to see anything, but she could make out the vague shape of other people all around her, jumping up and down. Covering her ears hardly did anything, because she could very much still hear the music—lots of drums and electric guitar, and a whole crowd screaming the lyrics like they were all going to be killed tomorrow.

She felt herself being jostled around by the people around her as they jumped and pushed and shoved. Desperately, she tried looking around to make out more of where she was, but the crowd was so thick she could hardly see anything besides the bright lights ahead of them. Still, despite the circumstances, she could get a good picture of where she was. Charlie had never been to one before, but she was pretty sure she could identify a rock concert when she saw one.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her back, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Hey, mate, you doing alright?” Said a feminine voice, and Charlie knew that Australian accent! That also conveniently told her where she probably was.

She shook her head. She needed to get out of here—not just because she hadn’t been prepared to be thrown into the middle of a rock concert, but because if this memory was just like the others, she and Cherri needed to have a conversation.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll getcha outta here,” Cherri said. Then Charlie felt Cherri’s other hand on her arm, and she was being guided out of the space and into a hallway. When Cherri closed the door behind them, the music quieted to a muffle, and Charlie leaned against the wall, taking time to catch her breath. As she did, she noticed she was wearing black jeans, sneakers, and a purple crop top. It was practically nothing in comparison to Cherri’s outfit, though, which was similar to her own, but covered in accessories and details. Just like with Niffty, it was odd seeing Cherri with two eyes, although her dyed-pink hair with blonde roots was rather recognizable.

She watched Cherri pull a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, retrieving two and offering one to Charlie. “Here, you look like you could use one.”

“Oh, no I don’t smoke,” Charlie waved her hands in front of her, denying the offering. “Also, you shouldn’t smoke indoors.”

Cherri laughed, putting one cigarette back into the pack, putting the pack away, and then lighting the other, taking a long drag from it. “Wow, this really isn’t your scene, is it?”

“Haha, you got me,” she said nervously. She really wasn’t sure what she should say to Cherri—out of everyone at the hotel, Cherri was the one she knew the least. She was still more of Angel’s friend than anyone else’s. “Say, um, I’m a bit…disoriented? What year is it?” 

Cherri quirked an eyebrow. “The music do that to you? Christ. It’s 1983, babe. What’s your name?”

“Charlie.”

“I’m Joan. Tell me, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, my…friend brought me here, but then ditched me.” Charlie had gotten rather good at coming up with lies on the spot over the course of this journey.

“Ugh, what a cunt. That happened to me a few times when I was younger, all bright-eyed and baby faced, willing to trust any older punk because I thought they were cool. Word of advice, you should stop hanging out with this ‘friend.’”

“Yeah, I…probably should. Er—sorry I’m making you miss the concert, by the way.”

Cherri shrugged, taking another drag of her cigarette. “Eh, I’m not missing much. I’m at a new show practically every weekend. At this point you’ve kinda seen ‘em all.”

“Then why do you keep coming?”

“Because it’s fun, I guess? Or, well…I suppose it’s just…what I do, y’know? These are my people—my crowd. This is my life.”

“Are you saying it’s not fun anymore?”

“Nah, not at all. I just said it’s fun, didn’t I? What I mean is that it gets very…same-y. It’s like a routine.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.” And it was. With how wild and chaotic Cherri was, she never would have guessed this was how she felt. But…she supposed it made sense.

Cherri seemed genuinely confused by that. “Why?”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t really seem like the routine type.”

Cherri laughed. “Well, yeah. Why do you think I started coming here? I wanted to live my life in a way that was wild and exciting, but I guess after you do it long enough, you build up a tolerance. Like coke.”

Charlie blinked. “...Right.”

“I never thought that trying to avoid the mundane drag of everyday life would just become more of the same. But I mean, what can you do?”

“All sorts of stuff.”

Cherri gave her a weird look. Clearly that question was supposed to be rhetorical. “What?”

“You can do other stuff for fun, can’t you? It’s not like you have to stop doing all of…” she waved a hand around “this, either. You can still, uh, party hard and all. But you can also try and do some other stuff too, you know? Learn to paint, go see a musical, stuff like that. Just mix it up a little. You don’t have to be just one thing.”

“Huh. That’s actually pretty smart advice. That’s probably what you should be doing with your life instead of following your friends to rock concerts.”

“...can’t I do both?”

“Touché. Well, anyways, you look like you’re doing better. You gonna be fine out here on your own?” She asked, putting out her cigarette and tossing it in the nearest bin.

She nodded, giving her best smile. “Yeah. I think so. Thanks for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it. I couldn’t leave a sweet little thing like you all by yourself out there. That would be a new low, even for me. See you around, Charlie,” she said, before promptly heading back inside the venue.

And, as she expected, Charlie’s vision began to go white yet again. It was time for the last memory.

Chapter Text

When Charlie’s vision cleared, three things became evident:

1) She was indoors

2) She was sitting down

3) She was looking at a plate of…enchiladas?

Then she heard a familiar voice say “can I get you anything else?”

Instantly, her head snapped up and she could have jumped for joy when she saw who she was looking at. She bit back an excited squeal and excitedly bounced her legs up and down, channeling all of her excitement there so she wouldn’t make a scene. She could hardly contain herself—how could she? This was her girlfriend!

Vaggie looked largely the same, albeit human colored and possessing two eyes. She had light brown skin and black hair pulled back into a low ponytail—probably because she had to work with food. And that waitress outfit looked so good on her—a nice, fitted top that hugged her nicely with an apron that cinched around her waist. Of course, it was a very mundane outfit that normally she wouldn’t bat an eye at, but seeing it on her girlfriend like this–

“I’m sorry, are you alright? You’re…staring at me.”

Charlie’s heart leapt out of her chest. “Sorry! Sorry. You’re just…uh…really pretty!”

It was only after the words left her mouth that she realized maybe she shouldn’t have answered that one honestly. Luckily, however, Vaggie just laughed at that.

“Are you flirting with me?”

So…that was okay now? In…whatever year she was currently in? “...Would it be okay if I said yes?”

“You’re cute. But can I get you anything else?”

“Ah…no, I…” a thought struck her. “Actually…” she reached into her pockets (she was wearing what appeared to be regular blue jeans and a red t-shirt) and found that just like before, they were empty, “I can’t pay for this.”

Vaggie winced. “Forgot your wallet?” Charlie nodded. “Been there. Don’t worry about it. After you eat, you can just leave one of your valuables here while you go back and get it.”

Huh, figures employees would already know what to do in this situation. And therein lies the problem. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I…live very far away. Hours away. So I think you’re going to have to take this back,” she pushed the plate away from her. “Sorry!” She felt genuinely bad about that. If she had to list the things she hated the most, inconveniencing service workers was definitely up there.

Vaggie looked at her for a moment, with an expression of…intrigue? before she spoke. “Tell you what: you’re actually my last table for the day. Give me like five minutes to convince one of my coworkers to bring out the check, and I’ll pay for it as long as you share. I haven’t eaten all day.”

Charlie gasped. “You'd do that?! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Vaggie laughed again. “Be right back, chica.”

And then Vaggie turned and left, leaving Charlie all by herself with a plate of enchiladas. Huh, this memory must know her well, because enchiladas are usually what she ordered whenever she got Mexican food. She took a bite, and they were…okay. She’s had better.

While she waited for Vaggie to come back, she looked around the restaurant and her eyes wandered up to a television mounted on the wall, displaying a football game. She was about to look away, because she wasn’t planning on watching any football, but right before she did, she caught the date displayed on the corner of the screen. The year was 2014—ten years ago.

The next few minutes that passed felt like the longest few minutes of her life. She already missed looking at that beautiful face. She and Vaggie were hardly ever apart these days, and she had already gone this long without her! So she misses the love of her life, sue her!

When Vaggie came back, she had taken her apron off revealing her top was tucked into a black over-knee skirt, and that looked even better! Vaggie hummed as she sat down in the seat across from Charlie, undoing her hair and shaking her head a bit, letting it fall over her shoulders. 

“You’re still staring.”

“You’re still really pretty.”

“You just say what you mean, don’t you?” Vaggie picked up another fork and took a bite of the enchiladas.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course not. Actually, I rather admire that. What’s your name?”

“It’s Charlie! And yours is…?” she looked to where a nametag would be, but she didn’t see one. Come to think of it, what was Vaggie’s human name? She was so used to demons having all sorts of weird names that she had never thought to ask. It could be dangerous to give out your real name, and a lot of demons actually came to prefer their new names, so Charlie never really paid it much thought. The topic just hadn’t come up.

“Oh, sorry. I know I’m supposed to, but I don’t usually wear my nametag. I don’t like customers calling me by my name—it’s too personal.”

“Aww, but I get personal name rights?”

“Well, you seem nice,” she gave a wry smile and took another bite. She was the one eating most of it; Charlie still wasn’t hungry. “My name…ugh, promise not to judge, but my name is Agatha. I know, so old fashioned.”

Well, Charlie had no idea Agatha was an old fashioned name, but she did now! “Is it a family name?”

“Nope. I mean, I don’t really look like an Agatha, do I?” Charlie shook her head. She knew that much. “You’re not going to believe this, but my mother was a huge fan of mystery novels.”

Charlie blinked. “Wait, like, Murder on the Orient Express? And Then There Were None?” Charlie had actually read those! She wasn't really a fan of murder mystery stuff, but the way Ms. Christie did it was something special. Charlie had always wanted to meet her, but apparently she had gone to heaven.

“Yep. That’s the one. I know, super embarrassing.”

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing! I think your name is super cool.”

“That’s nice of you. Your name is cool too. It’s really cute.”

Charlie felt herself blush. “Awww, thanks. And thanks again for paying for this! I know that’s a lot to do for someone you don’t know!”

Vaggie shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I see this kind of stuff all the time, and I know how much extra stress it is. If I can help make someone’s life easier, why shouldn’t I? Besides, it’s my job to help customers, after all.”

That was the woman she fell in love with! She was so helpful and considerate… 

“So, do you like working here?”

Vaggie let out a loud groan. “Please, who likes working in the service industry? I’m not even Mexican. They just hire any Latino they can find since they look the part.”

“Oh, what are you then?”

Come to think of it, Charlie really didn’t know much about Vaggie’s human life. When they first met, Vaggie was so closed off and scared, so Charlie figured it must be a sensitive subject. She didn’t mind at all—she hardly cared what someone was in the past, just who they were now, and the future they had ahead of them. She loves Vaggie for who she is in hell, and who she had been before that was irrelevant. (Well, she still would have liked to know about the whole exorcist part, that part specifically was actually relevant given the entire goal of the hotel, but they were past that already!).

“I'm Salvadorean."

“That’s cool,” and it was. She liked learning about Vaggie. “Uh…what do you not like about working here?”

“What, apart from always being on your feet, inconsistent hours, and rude customers?” Vaggie sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I just always thought that I would do something great with my life—help people, you know? Do something to really…change the world. Or at least be like, a doctor or a defense attorney or something. Yet here I am working at El Chilito’s.” She did a sarcastic jazz hands motion.

It was…interesting, seeing Vaggie be so open and relaxed. For the several years Charlie had known her, Vaggie had never been anything short of distrusting and hostile to those she wasn’t close with. It really sank in just how badly she had been hurt by heaven when they cast her out. If Charlie could only accomplish one thing with her life, it would be to help Vaggie get back to being like this—where she could feel comfortable sharing a meal with a stranger and talking about her problems. She didn’t care how long it would take.

“Well, who’s to say you won’t do something amazing in the future? You have your whole life ahead of you!” She lied. Well, stretched the truth, really. Afterlife is close enough.

“But it doesn’t matter what I’m going to do in the future because the future isn’t right now! All I’ve ever wanted to do is help people, but I feel like no matter how hard I try, I just…can’t. I always mess it up.”

“But you’re helping me right now, aren’t you?”

Vaggie paused. “Well, I guess.”

“We all have to start somewhere. Don’t think about what you already have or haven’t done, and instead start thinking about what you can do in the future. You can’t change what already happened. All you can do is do better from now on.”

Vaggie smiled at her. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“And for the record, I think you’re already doing an amazing job helping people here. I mean, if we’re being honest, the people who work in the service industry are the real heroes.” She said 100% seriously. Given her high status, she always made sure to try and be as respectful to service workers as possible, considering she would never have to do that work and, quite frankly, it sounded very tiring and thankless. So she tried to, as she was told, check her privilege.

Vaggie laughed again. “You’re really sweet, anyone ever tell you that?”

“All the time.”

“I should have known.”

And the image in front of her, of Vaggie, happy and smiling at her without the weight of the world on her shoulders, was one Charlie would never forget. She would do anything she could to make that image a reality again.

And, true to form, her vision started going white, and she felt herself being pulled away for what she knew was the last time.

Chapter Text

When Charlie opened her eyes, she saw the ceiling. She sat up, and realized that she was in bed— her bed. Someone had moved her to her bedroom sometime during the whole ordeal. A cursory glance around her room told her who it was:

“Dad?”

Her father, who was…zoning out? (this seemed to be a problem he had; she had been meaning to talk to him about it for a while now) suddenly snapped back to the present, quickly bounding up to her side from where he had been sitting.

“Charlie!” He said, taking her face in his hands. “Are you okay? Everything go well in there?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “They’re not my memories, after all. More importantly, how’s everyone else?”

He let go of her and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, Sera went straight back to heaven. I wanted to hold her here, but that wasn’t a fight worth having right now, so I just let her go. She’ll be back though, I’m sure of it. She’ll be back for Emily and your…snake friend—what’s his name?”

“Sir Pentious.”

“Right! Speaking of him, he was the first to wake up, and he seemed totally unharmed, so I left him to babysit everyone else while I watched over you. I soundproofed your room, so you wouldn’t be disturbed,” he said. Then he clapped his hands twice and she watched some sort of magic wash over the room, presumably undoing the spell.

“You…left him alone with a bunch of screaming people?”

“Well someone had to do it!” and I didn’t want to went unsaid.

Suddenly, a thought struck Charlie. “Wait, what about Emily? Is she okay?”

“She’s asleep. I did my best to fix her up but…take it from me, falling hurts like a bitch. There’s only so much that even I can do. The only thing that can help her now is a lot of much-needed rest.”

“That’s…good, I guess,” Charlie said as she swung out of bed. “I should see if I can have Niffty fix her something later that could help. I’m sure she’s going to be hungry. Is everyone else…?”

“Oh, uh, I…haven't actually gone back out there, since, you know…”

Charlie was not impressed. “Dad.”

“I was just so worried! I…” his voice got quieter. “I just got you back. If I lost you again, I…”

Well, Charlie couldn’t stay too mad at that. “I understand.” 

She straightened her hair and made her way for the door. “Well, let’s hope for the best.” She exited the room, her father following her, and as soon as the door opened she heard voices—regular voices, not screaming. That was a good sign! 

When she arrived at the hotel lobby, she saw everyone was hanging out and chatting cordially. They all seemed completely fine, and were not doubled over in pain and agony. That means it worked! Yay!

As she entered the room, seven heads immediately turned to her, and everyone got really quiet. For a moment, it was just everyone staring at Charlie in silence, and she was starting to get worried again when suddenly:

“What would Jesus do?!”

She laughed awkwardly. “You remember!”

“What would Jesus do,” Angel Dust repeated. He looked around at the rest of the residents. “Tha’ princess of Hell asks me what would Jesus do!”

Everyone (including her father) were all looking at her weirdly now. She hurried to argue.

“Only because you were convinced I was in a cult! I had to sell it!’

This seemed to have the opposite effect.

“What?” Her father said, and everyone continued to look absolutely bewildered. 

“I had to come up with some explanation for how I didn’t know what year it was—that was just the first thing I could think of!”

Some questions started pouring in, but before Charlie could answer any of them, Nifty marched up to her and kicked her in the shin.

Charlie dropped to the floor, holding her leg. “Ow—What?’

Niffty crossed her arms. “Get divorced? Are you crazy? A wife, just divorce her husband?”

Angel looked at Niffty skeptically. “Wait, you was married?”

Nifty narrowed her eye. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Charlie decided she wasn’t just going to lie down and take it. She looked right at Husk, a smug smile crossing her face. “Well, speaking of divorce—”

Husk instantly cut her off. “One more word outta that mouth and I am never talking to you again.”

Okay, maybe she was just going to lie down and take it. This news, however, seemed to excite Angel.

“Hang on, you too?”

Husk shrugged. “What? I’m an old man.” Wow, way to play it off like that.

Angel didn’t accept that answer. “You’re tellin’ me more about this later!”

Husk grumbled something and began to walk off, clearly wanting to avoid having any of his secrets spilled. Angel immediately followed after him. If Charlie knew anything about Angel Dust, he was not leaving without answers.

Cherri was the next to speak. “Geez, everyone at this hotel has some strange, mysterious backstory, huh? I feel left out now. I didn’t do anything interesting with my life, besides party and make a huge mess.”

“Eh, they’re not as strange as you’d think,” Charlie said with a shrug.

“Really? What about him?” Cherri pointed a thumb at Alastor, who had remained completely silent the whole time. Alastor shifted his gaze right at her, his steady eyes and unwavering smile boring right into her. Even though his mouth was closed, he was saying so very much.

“Something tells me I shouldn’t answer that,” Charlie said with the best smile she could manage.

Then Vaggie came up to her side, grabbing her hand now that they had a moment of peace. “Babe, are you okay? Everything go alright?”

Charlie smiled for real this time. “My dad asked me the same thing. You kind of remind me of him like that sometimes.”

“Because we love you,” Vaggie said, giving Charlie a kiss on the cheek.

Charlie brushed a hand through Vaggie’s bangs. “You should tell me more about when you were alive. I’d love to hear it.”

“...Sure, I can do that.”

Then another voice chimed in—the only person Charlie had yet to hear from, and the person she was most worried about:

“Ssssorry to interrupt this lovely moment, but may I ssspeak with Charlie in private for a moment?”

They both turned to look at Pentious, and Vaggie took a step back. “Of course.” She nodded at Charlie, and Charlie nodded back.

She took Pentious by the wrist and pulled him into the hallway, away from everyone else. Now that it was just the two of them, she really had time to examine his new look. It was beautiful, and absolutely angelic, made of heaven’s soft colors and images, even if his clothes had been damaged in the crash. Even his body was now a pleasant navy blue in comparison to the deep black it had been before.

“What’s up?” She asked. “Actually, first, tell me: what happened?”

He wrung his hands anxiously. “Well, after Adam wiped me out, I woke up in a ssstrange place—all white and quiet and clean. And there were two angels in front of me.”

“Emily and Sera?”

“Indeed. Emily was very excited! But Sera…not ssso much. She wouldn’t let me leave, and just held me there for quite a long time…until she reached her decision, I sssupose. That’s when Emily decided we should…fall.”

Charlie folded her hands, thinking. “Sera is definitely coming back for you. Do you…want to go back?”

Pentious seemed to seriously think about that. “I’m sure Heaven is a lovely place. But…if I have to forget everything? Everyone I’ve ever loved? All of this?” He gestured around him. “Not a chance.”

Charlie nodded. “It seems the war is far from over. I…don’t know where to go from here, but we’ll figure it out. What did you want to talk about?”

Pentious sighed. “...My boy. If…I do go back to heaven, and I remember…should I look for him up there?”

She grabbed his hands excitedly. “Pentious, that’s a wonderful idea!”

“I will admit, I never looked for him down here. Partially because I knew he didn’t want to see me, but also because…he’s not down here. I know he’s not. I can feel it. But, in heaven, do you think he still doesn’t want to see me?”

“Well, I can’t know how he feels, but…it’s been a very long time, and heaven is a place of redemption, is it not? A lot has changed since you died. You’ve changed a lot. I think it’s definitely worth a shot.”

Pentious smiled at her, bashful but happy. “I think I will, then. If I’m able to.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, I think I’m going to go check on Emily. Do you know what room she’s in?”

“Oh, yes! Let me show you!” 

And as Pentious led her to the correct room, Charlie felt all warm and fuzzy inside. 

The war was far from over, but as long as she had her friends by her side, Charlie would never, ever stop fighting.