Hidden in Hell - KAL (JadeElite), PotatoJade (JadeElite) (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

‘Well, this is an unexpected…problem…’ The radio demon muses to himself as the TV broadcast devolves into chaos after the announcement of the moved up extermination date. His neck cracks slightly as his head turns to face Charlie. “ Soooo…. How did a meeting with the heaven embassy regarding redemption for human souls turn into this ?” He gestures his cane at the television set as the demons on the screen scream bloody murder around the accelerated countdown hourglass.

“Well you see…” Charlie fidgets in her seat, recalling the abysmal conversation she had with Adam. “They kind of didn’t listen to me, at all.” She sighs. “Turns out the whole reason they wanted to meet was to let us know they are moving up the extermination date. And when I tried to tell them about my plans for the hotel and rehabilitating souls they just told me that ‘hell is forever’ and that killing demons is ‘entertainment’ for them.”
Alastor’s creepy smile strains wide. “I see. If the angel’s find it so entertaining, then perhaps they have more in common with us than they’d like to admit.” He stands, snapping his fingers so that the TV shuts off, he can’t think with it blaring it’s garbage. “Do tell me you have a plan to fix this, because if not then all the time I’ve put into helping you with your little pet project will have been quite wasted.”

Charlie stammers and looks around the room at her companions. “Well no, I don’t have a plan yet but, I’m sure that if we all put our heads together we can come up with a solution!” Her usual unfettered optimism is tainted with a hint of despair at the thought of her people being slaughtered once again.
There is a silence in the room as the others are still processing the announcement. Several of them side eye each other, not really sure how Charlie expects them to react.
“Well you all can ‘put your heads together’ and try to work something out. But I have some business I need to attend to.” Alastor takes a step towards the stairs.
“What business could be more important than trying to figure out how to prevent us all from being killed in six months!” Vaggie snaps.
“Private business,” he says in a dark tone to dissuade them from prying. “And ‘all of us’ is quite the stretch, there’s a reason I’ve survived as many exterminations as I have.” His eyes flicker, and for a moment he seems even taller than usual, but it passes quickly. “Anyways I’m not much of a group thinker. You all can plot and plan together, I will inform you if I have any ideas to prevent your impending demise.” Before any of them can stop him with more frivolities he dissipates into the shadows, leaving Charlie and her crew with baffled expressions.

A few moments later Alastor rematerializes in his room, for a brief millisecond his wide smile falters as his own comment about surviving the exterminations rings through his head. But he swiftly corrects his composure, now is not the time to lose his head.

He takes a deep breath, looking around the room, it is a space he has specifically curated to fit his aesthetic, everything has its proper place, and everything must always stay in that place. So, two of the books on his ornate bookshelf being swapped catches his eye pretty quickly. He crosses the room to this shelf, as he switches them back he looks them over. Both are thick, leather bound tomes, not light reading by any margin.

Alastor shakes his head and places them back where they belong, then reaches for the deer skull that decorates the shelf. A tug on the left antler causes it to move about 45 degrees, and there is a clicking noise behind the wall. With a dramatic creaking and groaning, the large bookcase slowly swings outward to reveal a tunnel leading deeper into the hotel.

As the demon steps in the secret entrance swings shut behind him. He walks in a deliberate manner, clicking his cane against the floor so that it echoes down the narrow hall. It’s a rather short walk before arriving at the small room that he has hidden within this building without even Charlie knowing of its existence. It’s been set up to resemble one of the hotel rooms, but with a few more homely accommodations added, such as the quaint writing desk and large wardrobe. The most notable thing about the room though is its lack of windows, which is unsurprising given that when he snuck this room into the floor plan he made sure that it had no exterior walls.

Alastor clears his throat, a strange sound with his radio-esque filter, announcing his presence to the room’s sole occupant, who currently appears to be a lump in the bedspread. “ Grace, are you decent? ”

There is a crackle in the air as the lump shifts slightly. A distorted feminine voice emits from a cell phone resting on the bedside table. “ If I w- de-de -decent I d-n’t th ink I ’d be in hell, w--ld I ?”

The demon chuckles, “You might have a point.” Glancing over at the dining table, he sees a barely touched plate of eggs and toast, his smile twists into a bit of a grimace, good food is hard to source in hell. “Gracie, you need to eat, it’s important you keep up your strength.”He crosses the room, and slowly sits on the edge of the bed.
“Trust me it wasn’t for lack of trying.” The female voice comes through the device much more clearly with Alastor in closer proximity, but it still seems to have several issues. “You know I never thought it c-uld be worse than when I was on the chemo, but today I couldn’t even be near the food without w--ting to…”
“I get the picture,” Alastor glances at the cell phone, the distortion in the voice was not like this when they first set it up as a means of communication, she sounded much clearer a few weeks ago. He knows it’s not his own powers causing the interruptions, even if this modern tech is something he is not fond of, it’s still well within his ability, so this issue must be on her end. “But you need to eat something, just like when you were on the chemo, it’s not good if you get weak from starvation.”

The lump shakes a bit, and the phone tries to broadcast a laugh but it doesn’t come out right. “Careful ‘Mr. Psychopathic Dem-n who is the Soul of a Ser-l Ki--er’, if some--dy heard you they might get the wr-ng idea and think that you care.”

He had never expected she would hold onto that phrase for so long. It was something he threw out in an argument they were having years ago, when he was still trying to deny to himself that he was catching feelings for this girl, and decided he needed to ‘remind’ her who he is. It was something that was supposed to drive her away, but she had somehow turned it into a silly little bit that she uses to tease him.
“Well dear,” He reaches for the edge of the covers, “I do suspect that a rumor about me ‘caring’ would start as soon as they discover I went to the trouble of smuggling you in here.” Smuggling isn’t actually referring to getting her into the hotel, in fact that part was rather easy. Pulling back the blankets exposes the very human woman who he managed to bring past the veil of death and into hell without actually taking her life.

Though that last part is a little debatable, given the way the color and vitality have been draining from her since her arrival here. Alastor still manages to maintain his disturbing smile, but his eyes do betray that he may, perhaps, be concerned with what he is seeing. To the outside eye it may appear that sneaking into the afterlife has caused this affliction to her health, but both of them know this is far from the truth. The woman is laying on her side, half curled, one hand resting on the resting on the source of her health issues, the small baby bump that has begun to form on her abdomen.

There is a long stretch of silence as Alastor looks her over, taking in every detail of the woman as though he may find the solution to their problems in some small thing that he’s missed. Bringing her to hell was supposed to keep her safe while they sorted… it… out, her unique nature already caused her to resonate with the supernatural, carrying a half demon baby only made her a giant target on Earth. He brought her over during the chaos of the last extermination, expecting that they would be safe from the next for another year, meaning he’d only have to protect her from other demons, and well, other demons are no sweat. But now the next extermination is coming in six months, which throws the semblance of a plan they had concocted out the window.
“Alastor…” The phone crackles, snapping him out of his thoughts. His red eyes shift to meet her beautiful green ones, the one part of her that had not lost life yet. “What’s the m-tter, darling?”

He knows he should tell her, not saying anything is just delaying the inevitable, right? But perhaps if that princess of misplaced hope can get things to go her way, then they might not have to worry. In which case there is no reason to burden Grace with worries about extermination when she should be focused on her health.
“It’s nothing Gracie,” He takes her left hand and lifts it, placing a kiss on the red and black wedding band on her ring finger. “I just had a long day at work.”

The woman sits up slowly, with some assistance from the demon. “ Well, perhaps you c-n tell me about it?”

Alastor figures that with some editing out of certain details, he can probably tell her about the whole ‘commercial’ debacle with the rest of the hotel crew. “ Very well dear, but while I talk you must try to eat some more, okay?”

Grace delicately touches the old surgical scar on her throat, trying hard not to think about how much her throat hurts whenever her food comes back up to say hello. “ I will try, but I c-n’t promise it’s go ing to st-y down.”

“And when I am done talking about my day,” he says, “you and I are going to have a long discussion about the dangers of you sneaking out of your room.”
“All I did was go to your room to f-nd something to read because soooomeb-b-b-b-” She's in the middle of gesturing to the sparse bookcase on the other side of the room, but stops and stares at her phone, frowning as the broadcast of her voice begins to devolve into static. She tries to hide how much it bothers her, but Alastor can see the tears welling in her eyes before she brushes them away.

If he could give her back her voice he would in half a heart beat. There were few people he’d ever met that actually gave him a stimulating conversation, but now most of their talks were just her listening. Not that it bothered him, he does love the sound of his own voice, but…
“I’ll get you more books, I’m sure it’s dreadfully boring being cooped up here all day, but remember it’s for your own safety.” He takes both of Grace’s hands in his own. “We can’t have anybody discovering that there is a human in hell, if you go out without me then I can’t protect you.” She pouts at him, trying to convey her disdain for being stuck in this windowless room all day. “If you won’t do it for the sake of yourself, then do it to protect the baby.”

It feels odd to him saying that word. Despite everything that he had done these past few weeks for the sake of it, part of him has still not accepted the reality of the fact that there is something growing in his wife’s womb that is half made up of him. The constant smile plastered to his face does well enough to conceal the fact that he is still unsure how to feel about the wretched thing, and Grace seems to have not yet caught on to his mixed feelings about the situation.

Which is good because even if he’s not sure how he ‘feels’ about the child, since he learned of it’s existence he has been overwhelmed with a surprisingly primal urge to protect it, regardless of him still not even being sure if he is ready to… care about it. So, the last thing Alastor wants is for his dear Gracie to get the impression that just because the idea of a sticky, smelly, crying baby makes his skin crawl, that it means he wants her to get rid of it.
Grace leans forward, resting her face against his chest, trying to convey her thoughts without her voice. To tell him that of course she wants to protect the baby, and if that means she has to stay in this damn room then fine, she will.

Alastor, normally adverse to being touched, finds himself relaxing slightly at the feeling of her against him. He raises a hand so he can gently pat her back. “ Come on now, let’s try and get some food in you and I will tell you Aaall about my day.”

Chapter 2

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Luckily it seems that the eggs stay down better when they’re cold, so the concerns about starvation get pushed off for another day. But even Alastor knows that his wife can’t sustain herself on cold eggs and soggy toast for her entire pregnancy, so he’ll have to keep looking for some kind of nutrition for her. Putting that on top of all the other things he’s having to do to keep her hidden and cared for, plus managing and protecting this hotel, he’s beginning to grow frustrated with the amount of work on his plate.

But he conceals this feeling from Grace for the night. As she eats he tells her about his day, and as usual she is absolutely enthralled by his stories. She hangs onto every word that comes out of his mouth, her eyes lighting up as he details the actions of the other residents of the hotel.

“So in the end, after all th-t hard work you put in, the commercial didn’t even get to air bec--se of some dumb news report?” Grace leans back in her chair, her voice projects into the phone much more easily now that she has some energy back.

“Yes, it was rather irritating.” Alastor snaps his fingers, and the dirty dishes vanish. “I suppose I could bend somebody’s limbs and get them to run it again. But I really just want to be done with all that frivolous television nonsense.”

“I know darling, it’s so annoying when you w-rk hard on something and it gets oversh-dowed and ignored --cause of something stupid.” As she talks, one of her hands absentmindedly moves to rest on her stomach, just above where it’s begun to curve outwards. “So m-ny of my projects went nowhere because there w-s something ‘more important’ going on at the t-me.”

The demon glances at her hand’s idle fidgeting, his shoulders tensing, before he returns his gaze to her eyes. “They were all fools for overlooking you, your work is spectacular, I should know, I’ve listened to all of it.”

The woman’s laugh comes through the phone as a bit of static. “You never told me that you listen-- to ALL of it, do you mean that? Even the sh-tty podcasts?” Before being smuggled into hell, Grace had used her communications degree for a variety of jobs; she had hoped to get into journalism and be a reporter, but was never taken seriously. Apparently she wasn’t pretty enough for the news, something Alastor never understood when she told him about it, of course it’s one of the many reasons he found television to be such a droll medium, it’s far too vain. But his wife is a woman from the age of the internet, and while he may find most modern technology loathsome, he always somewhat admired the way she used it to put herself out there, taking on all sorts of gig and side jobs that would allow her to write and use her voice… well before she lost it that is.

“Of course I did, dear. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t familiarize myself with my wife’s hard work?” There is sincerity in his voice, even with his strange vocal effect going. Though the part he is concealing is that he had listened to her old recorded works a lot after the botched surgery that cost her her beautiful voice. He doesn’t want her to know that he misses the way it really sounded, no need to let her know he gets sentimental about such things, or make her feel any worse about the fact that it’s gone.
“Aw, that’s s- sweet,” Grace smiles and sits up straighter in her chair. “I w-uld love to see this commercial, I know you detest the medium but it’s something you worked hard on. Wh-t kind of wife would I be if I didn't support my husband’s h-rd work?”

Alastor chuckles, “Very well, I’ll bring the tape up later.”

“By the w-y,” Grace’s expression becomes quizzical, “What could possibly have b--n so important that it would make the news station interrupt the broadcast? I mean this is hell, I d--bt much gets them th-t worked up so it must have been pretty serious.”

The radio demon’s smile strains, but thinks quickly of a lie that shouldn’t stress her out too much. “Oh it was just some other overlord trying to flex his prowess by taking over the broadcast and make people listen to some monologue I didn’t bother paying attention to.” He stands and moves to Grace’s side of the table.

Grace pauses, looking Alastor in the eye, she can feel something is off. “Really…? That’s all it w-s?”

Alastor lowers himself so he is just above eye level with her while she remains seated, and gently cups her cheek. “Yes, that was all Gracie, nothing to worry about.”

She leans into his hand and sighs, one of the few sounds she can make on her own, “Alastor, I love you, but I’ve g-t this… gut feeling there’s s-mething you're not telling me.”

“Well,” the overlord’s other hand moves, normally everything he does is certain and swift, but there is hesitation as he hovers over the bulge on his wife’s belly. “You’re… gut, is a little preoccupied growing a fetus, so maybe you shouldn’t trust everything it’s telling you.”

Looking down, Grace does her best to hide her disappointment that he won’t close that gap. “Yes, you’re pr-bably right, the hormones are making me paranoid… or s-mething.” She stands, pulling away from him as she does. Between the fact that she can tell he is lying about something, and him trying to use her current state as an excuse to convince her she’s wrong, the comfort and safety she felt during the meal is quickly turning to a sour taste in the back of her mouth.“You kn-w, I’m starting to get a b-t tired, is it alright if I lay d-wn again?”

Alastor quickly pulls his hands back to his side, summoning his cane so he can have something to hold. “How about I draw you a nice relaxing bath Gracie? Then we could find something for me to read to you?”

Her pale lips stretch into a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “M-ybe later, I j-st need to lay down. My sleep schedule has been all over the place since I g-t here.”

“Right, I understand,” he straightens his bow tie absentmindedly. “Do you want me to… join you?” Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help thinking about how holding her for just a little bit might help alleviate the stress he’s feeling over the impending extermination.

“I’ll be f-ne, you don’t have to tr--ble yourself,” She grabs her phone and slips past him, crossing the room to return to her bed. “Anyways, don’t you have a hotel to manage or something? The others m-ght g-t suspicious if you’re hidden away for too long.”

He longs to reach out and catch her, pull her into an embrace, and tell her it would be no trouble at all. To say f*ck the hotel, f*ck the others, she’s far more important. But to show that kind of emotion would be relinquishing far more control than he can handle. So, instead he silently averts his eyes as she changes into a clean nightgown.

“If you need anything dear,” Alastor taps his cane on the floor, and in a puff of smoke a small radio with a microphone attached appears on the nightstand, “tune it to our frequency and… oh…” He stops as she fingers the scar on her throat.

“I’ll figure it out…” she seems about to say more, but is stopped as the room shakes around them, the whole building rumbling as though an explosion has happened. “Looks l-ke the hotel needs its facilities manager, you should go…”

“Yes, well, I’ll be back tonight, there’s snacks in the mini-fridge, try to get some more nutrition into yourself if you can.” As he begins to dissipate into the shadows, she rolls over to look at him. “And Grace… I…”

“I know, I l-ve you too Al…”

Chapter 3

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor shadowily apprates to the hotel balcony quickly enough that nobody really notices that he wasn’t already there. While he deals with Sir. Pentious’ attack, Grace sits alone in her poorly lit room. Saying she was tired was only half a lie, it’s easier to think without the seven foot tall demon’s imposing presence looming over her, even after how long she’s known him she still isn’t one hundred percent certain that he can’t secretly read her mind.

Despite her room being deliberately set up with no exterior walls, she can still hear the muffled chaos of her husband’s assault on the airship. Admittedly part of her wishes she could watch. In their time together he had regaled her with stories of how he took down overlords, how oh so powerful he is in a fight, but she had never really gotten to see what he is capable of. There were a few skirmishes on the surface where he came to defend her from the various supernatural beings that liked to try their luck with her, but she had only ever seen glimpses of his demonic form in those cases. Those terrifying moments always made her heart race in a way that drew her closer to him, like seeing a natural disaster, horrifying in its capability to cause destruction and loss of life, but majestic in its unstoppable force.

When the sounds of the fighting stops, she sighs and sits up in bed, leaning against the backboard. After a few silent moments of staring up at the ceiling she reaches for her cellphone. The device lights up and shows the same thing it has for the past week that she’s been down here, no signal, no internet. Up top she had never been much of a social media person, she’d never imagined how much she’d miss scrolling through Pinterest looking for recipe ideas or sewing tips.

Grace sighs, and pulls her knees up to her chest so she can wrap her arms around them while she flips through her gallery, then her notes app, till eventually she finds herself in the voice recorder storage, listening to old clips of herself rambling about different thoughts and ideas. There are even a few snippets from discussion and debates with others that she had decided at the time were important enough to capture, mostly either with her old roommate or with Alastor. The app was practically her personal diary back in the day, at a time when she had no idea she would probably never make another entry again.

She can’t help thinking about how despite the occasional flaws, Alastor had done a pretty good job of projecting her ‘voice’ onto the phone when they wanted to talk. But it never felt right, it wasn’t the same, not to her at least. Years ago she had read about how people hear their own voices differently from how others do, that because the soundwaves reverberate inside your skull while you talk you get a totally different experience, and that’s why so many people don’t recognize their own voices on a recording. Tears well in the young woman’s eyes as she listens to her carefree past self go on and on about the articles she had been reading about the history of beekeeping, or dissecting the historical implications of whatever recent archeological find she had just learned about.

Listening to these, just a fraction of the various things she had recorded over her life, made her dwell on how much she loved to talk. To communicate. She adores hearing Alastor talk about anything and everything, but it’s not been the same now that she can’t easily engage with him, ask questions, or share her thoughts. And she knows it’s not the same for him either.

After all, it was purely through their voices that they had fallen in love in the first place.

Somewhere in a box of external hard drives back on Earth is stored many of the conversations that Grace and Alastor have had over the years. ‘A record of their love story’ she used to call it when he would complain about his voice being digitized. She always knew she should back them up in the cloud, but although she was more comfortable with modern technology than her husband, there was a part of her that did still distrust certain aspects of the internet. The last thing she needed was some hacker going through her sh*t and discovering that hell is real, and she could talk to somebody down there.

Anyways, she always felt like it was more romantic to keep it on a ‘physical’ medium. Like those old couples with their photo albums and scrapbooks and boxes of newspaper clippings and sh*t. Even Alastor surprisingly agreed with her on that. But now that silly romanticism is bittersweet now that she can’t access the drives, or even her laptop.

On one of those drives she even has their very first conversation, the day they ‘met’. But even though she lacks access to it now, Grace remembers every word, every moment.

It’s been just over 9 years now since that crisp fall evening. Grace was a 19 year old college student at the time. It had taken a lot of hard work and many failed tries, but that night she was certain she had nailed down what she needed to do to connect that old rotary phone to the line she wanted.

This was far from her first brush with the forces of hell and the signals that leak into the living world. After a childhood of being in close proximity to unnatural forces, the girl was far from a normal human. At the time she didn’t fully understand how she was able to do it, but somehow she was able to access media that was broadcasting in the afterlife. The first time she did it she had no idea what the hell she was watching, it disturbed and fascinated her young mind when the images of the chaos and hellfire lit up the old CRT she had fixed up. By the time she figured out what she was tapping into she had discovered that her favorite was the radio broadcasts, although the strange overlapping screaming unnerved her at first, she eventually found it to be a great white noise machine. But what she really loved about it was the host, with his fun old-timey voice and the way he enthusiastically told stories about the going ons in hell, or whatever topic had caught his fancy for the day.

That night she finished setting up her laptop’s microphone and drawing the chalk pentagram around her whole set up just as the clock struck midnight. She felt a tug deep in her soul as she whispered her incantation, with each word something ethereal poured from her being and into the room. The flames of the candles around her suddenly shifted their hues to a soft violet.

It took a few minutes for her to be brave enough to continue. She’d rehearsed what she would say but seeing that this might actually work caused all those words to slip away from her mind.

But she couldn’t delay for long, the spell wouldn’t hold forever. When she picked up the receiver and dialed, she already knew what the number was, ‘666’ , what else would it be?

The young woman glanced at the radio, which had been playing tonight’s show the whole time she was working on this.

“ ... and over in cannibal town there appears to be an outbreak of salmonella, so if you’re wanting to try a rare opportunity of an exotic… what is that …” In the background of the broadcast there is the distinct ringing sound.

Grace held her breath as the phone rang in sync with the radio.

The demon’s voice was muffled for a moment, he seemed genuinely caught off guard but was concealing it. He was certain that that phone didn’t work, and even if it did, nobody had the number.

“Well listeners, it seems we have our first ever caller. Let’s see who it is that’s foolish enough to interrupt me.”

The girl’s heart was thundering as the ringing stopped, but she quickly realized something was wrong.

“Hello, you’ve reached 66.6, the best radio show this side of hell, and all others…”

The overlord’s voice was still coming through her radio, but the phone was just playing static.

“This is Alastor, and you have fifteen seconds to explain how and why you’ve interrupted my show before I drag your soul out through this line and add your screams to my collection…”

Grace took a deep breath, then spoke confidently, clearly, and with purpose, just like she was taught in her speech class. “Hello, Mr. Alastor, sir. It is my greatest pleasure to be able to talk to you,” She could hear her voice on the radio, her side of the call was going through… he could hear her, she could just only hear him through the broadcast. “ I’ve been a fan of your show for a very long time. I am so terribly sorry for interrupting you, but I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time, and I figured calling in was my best chance of doing that.”

There was a long pause before Alastor spoke again. “I find most who are so determined to talk to me have a death wish, they just don’t realize it yet .”

“Well, I don’t have a death wish, but I do have a paper due next week on early 20th century radio and its impact on American culture.” Grace leant over to her laptop, checking that her recording was still working. “You were a radio host in life as well right? In the 1920s? I was hoping I could interview you.” As she spoke her body relaxed more, and her voice began to smooth out as she got herself into a groove, despite the fact that she was still nervous as all hell.

There was another pause, whenever Alastor wasn’t speaking the ambient noises of screams became more pronounced. “Paper? Interview…” He paused again, before saying clearly to his audience, “Alright folks we’re going to go to a commercial break while I sort out some technical difficulties .”

“No! Mr. Alastor wait!” Grace gripped the phone as the radio broadcast shifted to commercials about flea medication for hellhounds. Her receiver emanated static still, presumably from the demon trying to talk to her. “Sir, I don’t know if you can hear me, but this spell seems to be… finicky. I can only hear you through the radio, so if you’re not broadcasting then this becomes a very… one sided conversation.”

The room was quiet for a minute, and the girl’s heart sunk as she began to think this might have all been for naught. When the radio sparks with green energy, it takes all her self control to not make some embarrassing noise in surprise.

“ Can you hear me now? ”

Grace stared wide eyed, but replied quickly, “Yes sir, I can.”

“ Stop calling me sir. Your radio is now set to a frequency where only you can hear me. Now, who am I speaking with?”

She fidgeted in excitement. “My name is Grace, I’m a communications student at Mississippi University.”

“ Mississippi… as in on Earth? You’re calling me from Earth ?”

“Yes si…Mr. Alastor. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve always been able to tap into signals from hell so I’ve been engineering a spell that would allow me to reverse the connection and be able to call down there.” Grace was trying to keep her tone even, but she had always been in the habit of getting too excited when she talks about one of her areas of interest. “This is probably my twentieth attempt at trying to get in contact with you.”

“So, you are alive then? A living, breathing human ? Calling down to hell?”

“Yes,” Grace’s smile was so wide her cheeks were beginning to hurt. “And may I just say, it really is an honor getting to talk to you. The way you tell stories is so enthralling and I can only hope that one day I can have even a fraction of your skill at captivating an audience.”

“Well… I have had decades of practice down here, this kind of thing isn’t all raw talent, it takes practice, and dedication.”

The student could hear his voice shift just a bit, her ego stroking was apparently working. “I know, but I would love to learn from the best…” She glanced over at the candles, they were burning down fast. “When I have more time, this spell isn’t going to hold for too much longer… and that paper is worth a third of my grade this semester so…”

“I suppose I could assist you, but how do you intend to frame an interview with a demon as a reliable source for your paper, without getting thrown in the loony bin that is.”

“I have a plan, it involves a bit of fabricating a fake book as a source to cite, then having my tech friend slip it into the library's digital archives and backdate it. The professors never fully investigate the sources anyways so I should be in the clear.” Grace was rather proud of this plan, sure it was far more work than writing a normal paper, but she was more interested in what she could learn from him anyways.

“ I see, technology certainly has… evolved … up there.”

More green sparks flew off the radio as Alastor’s utter disdain came through the speaker.

Grace swallowed hard, and chose her next words carefully. “It has indeed. I have fondness for older mediums like radio, I honestly prefer it over things like television, but the internet has its uses.”

“ Right, well anyways, what do I get out of helping you with your silly paper anyways?”

She hadn’t thought about that part, which she knew was stupid, of course he’d ‘want’ something, that’s how demons work, they make deals. “Uhm… you get to listen to the dulcet sounds of my voice as you get to reminisce about the days when you were alive.”

“Aha-aha-ah No… I was thinking something more along the line of…”

“Yeah, my soul… I know. But you see that’s actually not going to be possible…” Grace pulled her knees up to her chest, and stared at the palm of her left hand for a moment, more specifically at the swirling scar on it.

There was a pause, Alastor was probably composing himself after being interrupted. “I’m not that cruel, I wouldn’t make you trade your soul just for a paper. You wanted to learn from me right? Well, your soul in exchange for me mentoring you.”

The girl was silent for a while, just staring at her hand as her mind went fuzzy with memories she can only half recall.

“Grace, didn’t you say the spell wouldn’t last very long? Are you going to take my deal or not?”

She took a deep breath, but despite her earlier confidence and excitement, she could only manage the smallest of voices. “Unfortunately, I can’t sell you my soul. And not because I don’t want to… another demon bought it when I was six years old…”

Chapter 4

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Grace is pulled back from her wanderings down memory lane by her cellphone’s screen going haywire. Her heart stops, terrified that the device is breaking, that all these memories are about to be lost. It buzzes for a moment while flashing between static and a blue/red color scheme. Suddenly a news broadcast takes over the screen, the headline reading ‘UNREMARKABLE LOSER BACK FROM f*ckING OFF.’

The woman didn’t have to wonder who this was on screen, Alastor had once, and only once, told her a story about Vox, the demon with a television for a head who he had found rather unpleasant and annoying. Apparently despite how pathetic this Vox is suppose to be, his signal is strong enough to force its way onto Grace’s phone.

“Top of the hour and we’re discussing a certain has-been…”

Her chest shakes a bit as she silently chuckles, watching the screen, amused by how poorly the television demon hides his fear of her husband. There’s a little eye twitch, his smile is just a bit too wide. Whatever this show he’s putting on is suppose to be, to her it’s like watching one of those lizards spread its frills to try and scare off a predator. The singing is a little weird, but Alastor had mentioned that things are a little more… theatrical… down here. She just wasn’t expecting somebody straight up streaming themselves breaking into song about the current events.

“While he hid in radio~ we pivoted to video~”

She throws her head back in what would have been a mighty laugh if she still had her vocal chords. Hiding? Hardly. Clearly this Vox doesn’t know Alastor at all if he thinks that he has been in hiding this whole time. The overlord had simply found something more… important to occupy his time with.

For a brief moment she picks up on the true purpose of this little song and dance. She can almost feel the hypnotic effect coming through the screen when Vox’s eye does that weird little thing. But a pale violet energy crackles across her eyeballs, blocking his ability, something so small and outside her control that she doesn’t even realize that she’s done it.

Suddenly the small radio that Alastor had left on her bedside comes to life, there’s static for a moment, before that gorgeous voice begins to play over it.

“ Salutations, good to be back on the air.”

Grace quickly sets her phone down on the covers, and reaches for the radio. It’s got no power cord, and is small enough that she can easily pull it into her lap. It’s so pleasing to hear his composed responses to Vox, especially with the melodic tone of his singing voice. She doesn’t get to hear him sing very often, and always felt too embarrassed to ask.

“ And here’s the sugar on the cream~ He asked me to join his team~ I said no and now he’s pissy that’s the tea~”

She can’t help kicking her feet like an excited fangirl, not just because of how good that line was, but because she had taught him how to use the modern slang about ‘the tea.’ It’s clear that she’s not the only one that Alastor is getting a reaction out of with his little song, she can hear her phone blitzing out as Vox loses his cool.

She’s so enthralled by the radio that she doesn’t even notice her phone going completely dead from the force of Vox short circuiting the signal. Instead she is distracted by a… silly and sentimental idea that she will definitely not mention to her husband. As he launches into the final verse of his song, she pulls the little radio closer to her stomach, the speaker just barely touching the small curve where her child is growing.

“ Let’s begin~”

Grace almost feels sad doing this. It’s probably way too early in her pregnancy for the baby to even hear this. But she knows that this will likely be the only way it will get to be talked to during its development. She certainly can’t say much to it, and while she hasn’t exactly asked, the woman is fairly certain her husband would… turn down the request to talk to the baby, even if she were to make the point about it being good for its development to hear its parent’s voices while in utero. So she has to hope that this will be good enough, and maybe some of those voice recordings from her phone, although there were only two or three that contained Alastor.

The broadcast ends with Alastor’s sinister laugh, Grace can feel the energy of his demonic form radiating from the device, and it sends a shiver up her spine. When the broadcast turns off she returns the radio to her bedside table and takes several deep breaths. Her whole body is tingling in excitement, the radio demon’s voice always makes her giddy, but something about hearing him sing takes her to a blissful level.

She starts to think about how she behaved earlier when he left, and with a sigh she acknowledges to herself that maybe she was being unfair. Although she could tell that Alastor is lying to her about something, that wasn’t an excuse to act so cold and rude to him. After all, he's put a lot on the line, sneaking her into hell. And he’s been working very hard to provide for and protect her… perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to give him a little leeway… but only a little.

After a moment of thought she moves to the edge of the bed and slowly gets up. She wasn’t sure when he’d be back, but maybe in whatever time she has she could try to figure out something to do for him. At the very least she may try to at least clean and doll herself up a bit. She’d been so ill with morning sickness these past couple weeks that she’d barely cared for herself, and although he hadn’t expressed any issues with it, she felt a bit bad being so… disgusting.

f*ck, he had talked about drawing a bath for her earlier. That was probably his way of telling her she stinks, right? He must think…

She shakes her head violently, leaning against the wall and trying to clear the self-deprecating thoughts from her head. This is why she hates being alone so much, it’s so easy to fall into a spiral of self-loathing when she’s only got her own thoughts to keep her company.

A few more moments of reassuring herself, and then she heads to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Grace doesn’t quite have the strength for a shower, but she is able to lean against the sink and wipe herself down a bit with a wet washcloth. As she works on herself, she ends up distracted, and doesn’t notice the sound of metal clattering out in the main room.

Once she feels ‘clean’ she begins to brush out her short, brunette curls. Her hair is nowhere near as long as it once was, when it fell out during the chemo she had been devastated, but Alastor was never bothered by it. Though he had helped her pick out many of her wigs, he always told her that she was beautiful regardless of how much hair she had. Of course there is the possibility that his version of beauty has gotten a little skewed after being surrounded by demons for so long, but it used to make her feel good regardless.

There is a skittering and muttering noise in the other room, but she doesn’t hear it over the sound of her mind replaying her husband’s fun song.

In the chaos of grabbing whatever they could carry in one trip when moving her to hell, Grace had managed to get her small travel makeup bag. She was never much of a daily make-up wearer, but she did enjoy experimenting with different ‘looks’ from time to time. For the past few years she had been using an eyebrow pencil to hide the fact that her real ones never properly came back and are a bit patchy, so luckily she has that on hand. As for how she would complete the look, well although he was polite enough not to say anything, she was aware that he did not favor her wearing heavy or flashy makeup. So, maybe just a hint of blush, and that classic 1920’s cupid’s bow lipstick style with light red she has on hand…

In the mirror she sees the door open behind her as she’s halfway through applying the lipstick. Her eyes widen as she hears the mutterings of the little maid.

“Gotta clean gotta clean, everything needs to be clean!” Niffty is chanting as she scurries in with her little broom and dustpan, her single eye glued to the floor as she sweeps.

Grace is practically holding her breath as the little demon does her work. Part of her is almost hoping that if she is so task oriented then maybe she just… won’t notice that she is there. But of course that is a pipe dream that is crushed as Niffty’s fervent sweeping reaches her feet.

“EXCuuuuse ME!” the maid says loudly and dramatically, “I’m tRYing to do my job here!!”

The human slow steps out of the way, and begins to back out of the bathroom. Niffty continues working, seemling oblivious to the fact that not only is there somebody in the hotel who shouldn’t be, but that that person also shouldn’t even be in hell.

Grace watches silently as the demon cleans, her heart racing. It’s over right? Even if this odd little one hasn’t addressed her, she knows she’s here, which means she’ll tell others. How did she even get in here? Through the secret passage? No the entrance is well enough disguised, she wouldn’t have stumbled on it by accident, right?

It’s only after a full minute of her being frozen in fear that she remembers the radio. While Niffty is still distracted, having moved on to trying to scrub the toilet, Grace rushes to her bedside table and twists the dial on the radio to a specific frequency, then flips the switch on the microphone. But… of course there isn’t much she can do, without Alastor she can’t use her voice.

As the woman desperately attempts to contact her husband, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up suddenly. One hand instinctively reaches to cover her stomach, as though she can somehow protect the unborn growing within.

“Bedbugs bedbugs gotta look for bedbugs~” The maid is singing to herself after sneaking up on Grace so that she, while concerningly soaking wet, can climb up on the bed beside her and start pulling back the covers and shaking out the pillows. She almost seems disappointed when she finds no bugs that she can stab.

Luckily the microphone picks up Niffty’s little song, broadcasting it on the private frequency. And moments later Grace hears the bookcase at the end of the tunnel open. She and Alastor had specifically set up wards in the room to prevent anybody of his strength and below from just apparating in if that is an ability they have (although he can apparate out). But now Grace is realizing that perhaps that was a poor decision, although the smaller demon seems to pose no danger, if she was actually under threat than those few extra seconds it takes her husband to travel the tunnel could be the difference between life and death.

“ Niffty!!” Alastor’s voice is distorted as he storms in the room. Though he is calling for the maid, his eyes immediately go to Grace, looking her up and down to make sure she’s okay.

“Hello sir!” Niffty says excitedly, bouncing a bit on the bed. “I found a new room to clean! It’s so dusty in here, why didn’t you tell me it needs cleaned!”

Grace quickly scurries across the room, practically tripping over her own feet as she reaches Alastor.

He steps forward enough to catch her with one arm. “ How did you get in here ?” He seems to be straining to keep his voice even while his forced smile twitches. His Gracie leans against him, her breath shaking while her mind races with all the possibilities of how badly this could all end.

“Through the vent sir!” The maid points to the vent high up on the wall, the cover has come off and is laying on the floor.

“ Right, and why exactly were you in the vents in the first place?” Alastor’s arm moves to Grace’s waist, supporting her in case she collapses. In the back of his mind he hates that somebody is seeing him do such a thing, but his concern for his pregnant wife’s safety just barely overrides his concerns about how Niffty perceives him.

“I was chasing down the bugs that live in them!” Niffty giggles maniacally, “I got to stab so many sir, stabby stabby stabby!”

“ Right… of course… ” Alastor sighs. He leads grace over to the dining room table, and helps her sit. For a moment she clings to his arm, but he shakes her off then approaches the smaller demon. “ Niffty, if I wanted you to clean this room, I would have told you to .”

Niffty stops her bouncing, her demeanor shifts quickly, suddenly her lower lip is trembling and her eye is watering. “I’m sorry sir… please don’t be mad I just…”

Alastor snatches her up by the back of her dress, holding her up to eye level. “ I am going to give you one chance, one warning . You have been faithful enough up till now that I will grant you that given that this was… a mistake. You are going to forget this room exists. You aren’t going to tell anybody about it, and you aren’t going to come back here. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir!” Niffty squeaks. “Thank you sir!” Her eye drifts over to the human woman sitting on the other side of the room, and for the first time she seems to actually perceive the hotel’s secret guest. “Who’s that sir?”

The lights flicker.

“ You will forget this room exists .” Alastor says even more firmly. “Do I make myself clear? ”

This time Niffty nods fervently.

“ Good .”

The radio demon crosses the room to the open vent, and unceremoniously shoves the little maid through it.

Chapter 5

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

“Well, that was… exciting.” Alastor says as he closes up the vent. He rubs his hands together like he’s dusting them off as he turns around. “I suppose you are lucky it was only Niffty. It could have been much worse had it been one of the others.” He freezes as he lays eyes on Grace.

She is leaning forward in her chair, eyes fixated on the floor, with one arm wrapped around her torso and the other hugging her belly. Her breathing is ragged with her mouth hanging open like she is trying to make sound, and her eyes are filled with tears. He can’t quite determine if she is crying or hyperventilating, or both, whatever it is the display makes him rather uncomfortable.

“Come now, this is quite unnecessary.” Alastor says calmly, approaching her. “Everything is fine, there is no reason for you to…” He shuts his mouth, knowing better than to… diminish her emotions. It had taken several years of practice, but over the course of their relationship he had managed to learn how to be at least somewhat considerate of her feelings, even when he finds them annoying.

Her shoulders shake, and her lips move, trying to form words. Tears are pouring down her face, smudging the little makeup she had put on, then dripping onto the carpet. The girl’s mind is racing with a thousand worries. Not just over the fact that she had been discovered, but the fact that she couldn’t have called for help. The realization that if she was ever truly in danger, she could never again scream. And those thoughts are compounding with the intense sensation of isolation and loneliness from being locked up in this room. Her chest is burning as her body is racked with silent sobs.

Alastor grits his teeth, “Where is your blasted phone?” He can’t help her if she can’t tell him why this is so upsetting. When she shakily raises her hand to point at the bed he moves over there and begins moving the covers around trying to find the stupid device.

When he finds it, dead as a doornail, his wide smile falls suddenly, an extraordinarily rare occurrence, that he only allows to happen because his back is to the only other occupant of the room. He taps the screen and presses the buttons, not fully understanding how the device works, but it doesn’t respond to anything he does.

Finally he turns around and holds it up for Grace to see, after forcing his smile back onto his face of course. “Let me guess. That signal from Vox made it onto your phone?”

She raises her head enough to look, her chest heaves harder as she sees the dead screen, and barely manages a nod.

Alastor returns to her side in an inhumanly quick manner, “Grace, you need to calm down. You’re going to make yourself ill.” He hands her the cellphone, hoping maybe she can figure out what’s wrong with it.

She takes it from him and immediately flips it over and starts trying to take the back off, but her hands are shaking too hard to get it off. Her husband sighs and bends down to her level, carefully resting one of his hands on her shoulder while using the other to slide the panel off for her.

Grace manages to mouth a ‘thank you’ as she pries the battery out and looks it over. The connection prongs have a black marking around them, to the best of her ability she determines that when Vox short circuited everything it overloaded the battery. The rest of the phone looks to be intact though.

“Is it just that part that’s broken?” Alastor asks, a tinge of relief in his voice, he didn’t quite get this modern tech, but he knows that removable parts are usually replaceable. He still has a hand on her shoulder, his thumb gently stroking her skin in an attempt to be comforting.

Although that’s how it appears, Grace knows that she won’t know for sure till they replace it. She nods, but then devolves into another round of silent sobbing at the thought that this may have corrupted the data saved on it.

“Gracie… Gracie, stop crying… please…” The demon leans forward and presses his lips to her forehead. “I’m going to fix this for you. I promise, you’ll get your voice back, okay?”

Grace sniffles but holds his gaze, finding comfort in his red eyes. Her cheeks and chin are covered in tears and snot, so Alastor pulls a handkerchief from his coat and begins to pat her face clean.

“What’s with the make up dear?” His radio filter drops off completely, and his smile is softer than usual. “Were you trying to get all dolled up for something?”

She sniffles again, but this time it’s followed by a silent chuckle, as she nods and raises her hand to place it on his chest.

He looks down at her hand as he lays the soiled handkerchief on the nearby table. “For me, huh?” His laugh is soft and genuine in a way that he would never let anybody else hear. It brings a warmth back to Grace’s chest, calms her in a way only he can. When he finishes he takes her hand and holds it softly“What’s the special occasion? You seemed… upset when I left earlier…”

The woman pauses, trying to figure out how to communicate without her words. After a moment she points to the radio on the other side of the room, then attempts to dramatically mime somebody singing. This brings another soft laugh out of her husband. She watches him wistfully, a sparkle in her eye as she thinks about how different he is with her than when they first met.

“Now…” The soft moment can’t last forever though, Alastor takes the broken phone from her and takes a step back. “I’m going to go find a replacement battery for you.” He sees the way her shoulders tense. “I won’t be gone long I promise. And when I get back, you’ll get to keep me all night, does that sound good?”

Grace uses the table to support herself as she stands, her heart rate immediately picking up again at the prospect of being left alone again.

“Dear, you should rest… you’ve worn yourself out quite a bit…” He quickly steps back towards, removing the distance he placed between them so that he can put an arm around her and try to get her back in the chair. His gaze flickers down to her stomach for a moment, even he is concerned about how this stress she’s putting on herself could affect the baby. “...Please.”

The human fights the tears that are trying to come back, her mouth moves, trying to form words, trying so hard to find her lost voice, just desperately trying to tell him how scared she is of being alone.

Alastor sighs heavily, “I’m going to be right back. You really don’t need to get so worked up about this.”

She collapses back into her chair in defeat, putting her face in her hands, but doing her best not to devolve into a total mess like before. But she’s just so tired of not being able to tell Alastor what she’s thinking.

He snaps his fingers, and a glass of water appears on the table. “Try to hydrate dear. When I get that battery we will fix up your phone…” Despite her inability to communicate it, he does understand that her frustration is coming in part from her inability to talk. He just doesn’t get why she won’t let him fix the problem, if she would let him go then he could sort out the issue for her.

Grace waves her hand in a sweeping away motion, then picks up the glass of water and turns away from him.

These sudden shifts in mood are far from normal for his wife’s behavior. As Alastor dissipates into the shadows he thinks to himself that he can not wait for this stupid pregnancy to be done with, because her hormones might actually be the double death of him.

Chapter 6

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor re-forms from the shadows at the top of the lobby stairs. He quickly scans the room to determine how best to acquire what he needs. Charlie and Vaggie are sitting on the couch, the princess is being comforted by her girlfriend regarding the fact that they couldn’t recruit anybody new for the hotel. Angeldust is at the bar, complaining to Husker about his latest shoot while the bartender fills his glass. And Niffty is… cleaning the chandelier, Alastor notes that he should probably keep an eye on that.

He descends the stairs, approaching the girls first. “Charlie my dear, I need to ask a… favor of you.”

“Oh?” Charlie sits up, her overly trusting personality is not tuned to recognize that that phrase is rather dangerous coming from an overlord. “What can I do for…”

Vaggie on the other hand knows better than to agree to anything with him, even something small. “No.”

“I wasn’t asking you, I’m sure the princess can speak for herself.” The corner of Alastor’s smile twitches.

Charlie pauses, “uhm…” and looks between Alastor and her girlfriend. “Well, I mean I guess I need to know what you need before I agree to anything…”

“I just need to borrow your cellular device for a little while,” the radio demon straightens his bow tie. “You see I don’t have one of my own and I need to make some calls.”

“No,” Vaggie reiterates.

The princess puts a hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “I mean that doesn’t seem like such a big deal…”

“No, who knows what he might do to it,” the girlfriend crosses her arm. “He might tap it or something so he can listen to your conversations.”

“Oh I don’t know enough about your modern tech to do something like that,” Alastor says with a laugh, the radio effect on it strengthens after a second. “Anyways if I wanted to hear your silly conversations do you really think I would need to go to that trouble?”

That may have been the wrong thing to say, Charlie immediately looks a bit concerned, and seems to understand why Vaggie is trying to keep her from agreeing to anything, even something small. “You know what Al, I just remembered that I have to do some work and make some calls in a little bit so I don’t think I can…”

“Mmm… of course, it’s no trouble.” He knows he screwed that up, he should have held his tongue, but asking for favors is not something that is in his forte, usually he is the one offering them. His gaze travels over to Vaggie. “Dear Va…”

“No,” the girl says for a third time.

“Right, well… have a lovely evening.” Alastor turns and walks away, twisting his cane in his hands. It’s not often that he doesn’t get what he wants, but even he has to admit that that one was his own fault. But he can’t bear to disappoint Grace, he needs to get her back a voice.

He glances upwards, Niffty is clinging to one side of the chandelier, gleefully collecting the dead bugs that have accumulated on the light fixture. It’s unclear how she got up there in the first place.

“Husker, my dear friend!” Alastor practically appears at the side of the demon bartender.

“f*cking hell!” Husk half jumps out of his fur, nearly dropping the bottle he’s drinking from.

Angel snickers, leaning against the counter and sipping from his drink.

“Don’t call me your friend,” Husk sneers, chugging from his bottle then setting it down. “The f*ck do you want?”

Alastor’s grip on his cane tightens again, but he forces himself to be polite even in response to such a rude display. “I need to borrow your cellular de…”

“It’s called a cellphone, or just phone, and I know you f*cking know that you have called it that before,” Husk rolls his eyes, seems like he’s reaching the point in the night where he’s had one too many and is dumb enough to test Alastor’s patience.

“Fine,” Alastor seethes, getting very sick of everybody being so insolent tonight. “May I borrow your cellphone, Husker…”

“No.” Husk starts to reach for his drink again, but freezes as a soft green emanates from the radio demon’s hands.

“Are you sure…” Alastor hisses without dropping his sinister smile. His little pet feels the leash tightening around his throat even if he can’t see it. Seems he forgot that his master doesn’t make requests of him… he makes demands.

Angel frowns, recognizing their expressions from his own experiences with Val, and while he may not actually know that Husker’s soul belongs to Alastor, he doesn’t want to have to deal with even looking at the kind of sh*t that reminds him of that stuff while he’s trying to relax. “Hey now… he said no so…” He starts to reach across the bar to grab Alastor’s arm, but Husk slaps him away.

“It’s fine, it’s fine…” Husk groans, the claws on one of his hands scratching at his throat, while the other reaches into his fur and procures a device.

Alastor takes the phone from him, and his smile twitches again. “What is this?” He holds up the old flip phone with its little fuzzy dice accessory tied to it, he is very aware that this isn’t going to work with Grace’s phone.

“My phone,” Husker smirks a little.

“No no why is it not…” Alastor taps it with his finger in a way that mimics texting on the screen of a smartphone, gritting his teeth as his frustration mounts. It shouldn’t be this difficult to get a new battery.

“What? I thought you preferred older tech,” the bartender chuckles, and Angel laughs in near harmony.

“This won’t quite work for what I need…” Alastor grips the phone tightly, and the group can hear it crack.

“Hey! What the hell man!” Husk snatches it back from him. “Just cause I ain’t got what you need, don’t mean you need to go f*cking up my sh*t!”

“Apologies, I’m just in a bit of a rush you see.” Alastor takes a step to the side, then glances at the p*rnstar. “Angel…”

“f*ck no,” Angeldust uses three of his hands to flip the overlord a triple bird, while a fourth hand scrolls through his Sinstagram feed.

Alastor takes another side step, just as a tiny figure plummets from the chandelier and into his waiting arms.

Niffty blinks in stunned confusion for a moment. The idea of falling being a possible outcome had never occurred to her, and she certainly hadn’t expected to be caught. She looks up at Alastor, and smiles wide.

“Thank you sir!” She says enthusiastically, hugging him around the neck. It seems she has already gotten over, or even forgotten, the earlier incident.

“Why it was no trouble dear,” Alastor stiffens at her touch, quickly prying her off and setting her on the floor. “But perhaps we stay off the ceiling fixtures from now on?”

“But that’s where all the bugs like to hide!” Niffty replies.

“Right,” Alastor pauses, then takes a deep breath. “Niffty, you wouldn’t happen to have a cellphone, would you?”

The little maid stares at him, not a single thought behind her one big eyes.

“Of course…” Alastor sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. How in the seven rings of hell could it be this hard to procure a stupid phone battery.

“Is this for the lady in the walls sir?” Niffty tilts her head to the side with a quizzical look. Husk and Angel stop what they are doing and turn to look at her.

“I’m sorry, the who in the f*cking where?” Angel leans down.

“The lady in the…” Niffty starts, then suddenly seems to remember that she was suppose to forget that, a shiver runs up her spine as she looks up at Alastor, who’s staring at her with the same furious gaze as earlier. An expression he drops when the others look at him. “You know sir I think I hit my head on the chandelier when I fell.” The maid gives small laugh that is just fake enough to sound like her usual deranged laughter.

Husk side eyes the radio demon, but keeps his mouth shut.

Angel seems like he’s about to question her excuse, but is cut off when Niffty uses him as a climbing post to scramble up to the bar counter. “f*ck Nif, knock it off!” He smooths out his outfit where she wrinkled it.

“So why are you all in a twist about finding a phone anyways?” The bartender leans against the counter. “I know you’ve got that old rotary that you magicked up to be wireless, so why the hells do you need a smartphone?”

“That’s my business and none of yours…” Alastor says, turning and leaving the group behind. They look at each other and shrug, but while they know they should be suspicious, they value their own lives enough to not pry into the radio demon’s business.

Alastor ascends the stairs and slowly walks down the hall, he’s not in any particular rush to return to his wife and tell her he… failed his task. It’s not as though he has always been successful at everything he does, normally it would not bother him for being unable to complete a small task like this. After all he’s accomplished so many great things in both his life and afterlife that it’s silly to get worked up over such a trivial matter.

And yet despite his attempts to convince himself of this, his heart weighs heavy with the thought of Grace. The thought of disappointment on her face when he has to tell her that he will not be able to return her voice to her tonight. His smile twitches as he fights to keep it on his face. He can’t bear to think of her distraught and distressed when he was suppose to fix everything for her.

He comes to a stop, and raises a hand to his chest. It aches in a way he absolutely despises. Love… such a bothersome thing… Life was so much easier when he wasn’t so concerned about the feelings of another person, when his own happiness didn’t revolve around her smile.

She would still have her voice if he hadn’t pushed for the surgery… she could have survived another round of chemo, right? If he hadn’t pushed her to get the surgery then she wouldn’t have ended up under the knife of a drug addled surgeon. Of course it distresses Alastor that he failed this task, it’s his fault she is like this in the first place so it’s his duty to…

“Sir?” Niffty’s small voice squeaks behind him.

The overlord quickly straightens his posture, corrects his expression, and turns to face the little maid. “Yes Niffty?”

With a proud expression she holds up… a cellphone battery! “Is this what you needed?”

Alastor’s eyes widen, and he takes a knee in front of her. “Now how did you get your hands on this?”

“WHAT THE f*ck?!” Angeldust’s voice echoes up from the lobby, “NIFFTY DID YOU STEAL MY f*ckING PHONE BATTERY?” Fortunately the spider demon doesn’t know where the thief went, so she is safe for now. Seems when she was using him as a ladder she was doing more than climbing.

“Well then…” he takes the battery from her tiny hands, and pats her on the head. “You do often prove your usefulness, don’t you?”

Niffty starts twisting the hem of her apron in her tiny fists, “Am I forgiven sir?”

Alastor raises an eyebrow, “for what Niffty dear?”

“For going into the room I wasn’t allowed in?” She still doesn’t understand why he was so angry with her, but it’s incredibly rare for him to turn that kind of rage on her, and it seems to have affected her more than she was showing in front of the others.

“Oh…” his voice goes soft, and he laughs, trying to lighten her mood. “Of course you are.”

Her eye lights up brightly, “So, you aren’t mad at me any more?”

“For now,” He stands up. “And I suppose, if you can swear to keep that room secret… you could go in and clean it when you are bored.”

Niffty smiles wide, bouncing a bit and clapping her hands. “Clean! I can clean and kill the buggies?”

“Yes… I think the lady living in the walls would appreciate that,” Alastor says jokingly. “But, you musn’t mention her anymore, alright?”

She nods vigorously. “I promise I promise.”

“I shall inform her to expect you coming around, but I must be going now.” Alastor looks at the battery, his smile filled with relief before he dissipates into the shadows.

Chapter 7

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

This time as Alastor walks down the tunnel to Gracie’s room, he is beginning to see that maybe he had a flaw in the design. Though the wards that keep him from apparating in are for her safety, if he can’t just appear then nobody else can either, it still takes him a moment to get to her. He had rushed his little shadow workers to construct the space by converting existing secret tunnels from when the hotel was originally built, long before Charlie took over. But if he had taken his time then they could have just constructed the room to be adjacent to his own, but to do that he would have had to sacrifice valuable space in his own room, and at the time he certainly wasn’t about to give up his indoor swamp.

“Gracie~” Alastor says with a hum as he enters the room, holding up the battery proudly. “I told you I would take care of everything.” He stops, scanning the room, his throat constricting when he realizes he can’t see her. “Dear…?”

There is a soft cough from under the dining table. He moves towards it, bending over to peer beneath. Grace is sitting cross legged with an open jar of pickles in her lap. The nearby mini-fridge she procured it from has been left ajar with a few of it’s other options scattered on the floor near it, alongside some things from the bags of pantry goods. When the couple had packed up sh*t to bring down here they had grabbed everything from her own fridge and cabinets that they could fit in a small cooler and a few grocery bags. It wasn’t much, but it’s better than the sh*t food down here in hell that has a tendency to go off much faster than their Earth versions.

Alastor looks at the jar, then his wife’s tear stained face. He raises an eyebrow, and she responds by holding it close to her chest while shoving another pickle in her mouth.

“Well… as long as you’re eating…” He sighs, and hands her the battery, which she snatches like a feral animal. The demon straightens and goes to clean up the mess at the mini-fridge while Grace fixes her cellphone. Most of the packaged and preserved food seems to still be in good quality, but the pre-cooked meat seems to already be going off.

Grace practically holds her breath as she presses the power button on her phone. Her heart thunders as it buzzes at lights up, that’s a good first sign but she still doesn’t know if it’s going to work. She nervously chews on another pickle as though it will soothe her.

Alastor takes stock of the food supply, he used the last of the eggs this morning, so with the meat going bad they are running low on protein options for her. There’s only half a loaf of bread left, and the few vegetables they brought down also look like they only have a few days left before they start to rot. He begins to wonder if it’s less the origin of food in hell that makes it go off faster and more the fact that… they are in hell. Otherwise all they have left is highly processed junk food that he only brought along because he knew it could survive well down here.

Unfortunately when it comes to sustenance this ring of hell tends to be more known for booze and drugs than anything of actual nutritional value. As the overlord shuts the fridge, he begins to contemplate swinging by Rosie’s place; she wouldn’t ask questions if he told her he needed some of her stuff that could pass for regular meat. But he banishes the thought quickly, maybe ages ago he would have done such a thing, but the Alastor today respects his wife too much to trick her like that, even if it is for her own good. Alternatively he could just ask Gracie if she would be willing to…

“Al--tor…” The phone crackles, barely audible.

His head turns so fast his neck nearly snaps, Grace can hear his bones cracking, and she flinches at the noise. Alastor quickly returns to the table, his movements incredibly fluid as he bends down once more.

“There we go!” He smiles broadly, holding out his hand to help her up. “Are you feeling better now?”

She is still withdrawn though, curling in on herself and refusing to make eye contact. “I’m s-rry.” Once again there are tears welling up in her eyes as she grapples with her mixed up hormonal emotions. She scrolls through the files on her phone, checking their integrity.

One of Alastor’s fuzzy ears twitch, a expression of frustration he usually keeps from showing, but it has been a really f*cking long day and he is getting real tired of this mood swing bullsh*t. “Sorry…? Whatever for dear?”

She sniffles, and uses the palm of her hand to wipe at her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling this time. “For being a sh-tty wife…”

“Gracie…” Alastor sighs. After a moment of thought he lowers himself to the floor, and gets under the table to sit beside her. He is far too tall for the space, and even while craning his neck the top of his head still brushes up against the top. “When have I ever said you are a sh*tty wife?” He places a hand on the small of her back and rubs comforting circles, a technique that usually works.

“It doesn’t matter if you say it or not…” She stares off into the distance, trying to focus on the feeling of his warm hand on her back, but struggling to keep herself from devolving again. “It’s the truth. I’m awful. I’ve been n-thing but a pain in the -ss.” The phone seems to be struggling to project her voice, most likely because she is crying while talking. “You’re trying so h-rd to take c-re of me and all I do is wh-ne and bi-ch and m-ke things so much har--r than they n--d to be . I don’t know why you put up w-th my bullsh-t. I’m just… I’m just a b-rden. ”

“Oh my dearest Gracie…” Alastor’s frustration fades as he listens to her sh*t on herself. How could he hold resentment towards her when she already has so much towards herself. “Don’t say such things. You have never been a burden…” He cups her chin and turns her face so she can look at him. “Darling, you have had so much change in a very short period of time. I took you away from everything you’ve ever known to smuggle you down to hell itself. I don’t blame you for struggling to adapt…” He did, a bit, but he didn’t want her to feel bad about it. Anyways, it’s not as though he has been adapting very well either.

“You’ve put so m-ch on the line to bring me down here, and you are constantly trying to make sure I am s-fe and taken care of,” Grace’s lower lip trembles “The least I could do is behave and not m-ke this any harder for you…”

“First of all, I didn’t put anything on the line to bring you down here. There is nothing down here that can be taken from me just because you are here,” he leans forward and presses his forehead to hers. “But you… if something happened to you up there because I can’t always be there to protect you I don’t know what I would do with myself. So I would rather you be down here where I can keep you safe…”

The woman shakily raises her arms, and slowly wraps them around his torso, holding onto him while one hand tightly grips her phone. “I just f--l like I should be doing more for you, instead of j-st sitting around crying all day…”

This isn’t normal. Alastor is beginning to realize that something may be seriously wrong here. His wife has always struggled with seeing her own value, but normally just a little praise from him would perk her up. It was never this much of a struggle to bring her out of a slump. This has to be more than hormones, but he can’t quite grasp what it is that is causing her mental state to decline like this.

His mistake of course is in failing to realize that just because they live on the same plane of reality now and they get to go to bed together every night like a regular married couple, that she is still incredibly lonely and isolated. He doesn’t understand that she is alone for most of the day, whereas on Earth she had her small friend circle and the whole wide world to interact with.

Alastor chooses his next words very carefully, desperate to find something that will break this spiral she has trapped herself in, “You are doing something though,” he’s trying to say what he thinks she needs to hear, “the most important thing you could be doing,” even if he has to force himself to get the words out, “you are growing my child… our child.”

And yet, despite how sure he was that this would bring his wife some comfort, he does not feel her relax. Instead she moves to rest her face on his shoulder, and is silent for a while. From what he can gather by the dampness that begins to soak through his coat, disgusting, she seems to be trying to conceal that she is crying once again.

“Gracie,” He starts rubbing the small of her back again, “I can’t help you with your problems if you don’t tell me what they are…”

Grace sits back, wiping her nose with the back of her wrist. “It’s not your job to solve my probl-ms…”

The radio demon pauses for a moment, then begins to remove his left glove. “I’m pretty sure that the day I put this on…” He holds his hand up, showing the red and black wedding band, “was the day it became my job to solve your problems…” He then takes her hand in his, running his thumb over her matching band. “It may have not been in our vows, but I assumed it was implied…” He gestures around them, “Do you think I would have crawled under a table with you if I didn’t want to help you with whatever is on your mind?”

The young woman grips his hand tightly, taking a moment to compose herself, and when she speaks it comes through much more clearly than before.“You’re wrong about it being important…” Her other hand goes to her baby bump, clutching the thin fabric of her night gown. “I ruined everything by getting myself knocked up I… I… everything w-s… well it wasn’t perfect but… I ruined it,” The phone’s playback crackles in a way that seems to be her voice cracking, “You’ve never wanted kids, I mean you’ve always hated children… and you pretend like this doesn’t bother you but I’m not stupid. I’ve gone and turned our whole lives upside d-wn and I just… I don’t understand why you’re putting so much eff-rt in for a baby you won’t even love, why you didn’t just… tell me to ter--nate the pregnancy when I asked if I should.”

As his wife goes on about this, Alastor’s eyes slowly widen. His chest tightens as a mix of anger and sadness fills him. He hates this so much. Not her, never her. But the complex feelings that come with loving her. The pain when she’s in pain. The fact that he would throw away so many of his own wants and desires for her sake. Of course he didn’t tell her to terminate, sure he was grappling with that urge to protect his offspring, but he could have overcome it at the time. No… how could he tell her to terminate when she…

There is a clattering as his head hits the top of the table. “SHI…” He quickly stops himself, and gives himself a moment to take a deep breath with his eyes closed. “Okay Gracie, hold on I need to…” He moves out from under the table, and before she can protest he scoops her up and stands. It’s only a few steps before he reaches the bed and can set her down on the edge.

Once she is down he takes a step back and turns away with his hands on his hips, trying to conceal his expression, hiding the frown and furrowed brows. How does he even begin to respond to that? It’s not like she’s wrong… well on some parts she is, but… he doesn’t know. A few months ago he probably would have agreed with everything she said. Before the little thing existed inside her, he had thought that if something like this happened then of course he would tell her to get rid of it. But the moment he knew… reality rarely ever matches up to fantasy.

“Alright Grace… let me make a few things clear, my dear…” He turns back to face her, his smile returned, though strained, “You didn’t ‘get yourself knocked up’, we may not have had good sex education courses when I was in school, but I’m pretty sure it takes two to make a baby.” He steps close to her, looking down and taking in her soft features. “I am as much responsible for the existence of this child as you are.”

“But,” she interjects, “I’m the one wh-… you don’t…” she twists the hem of her nightgown, her cheeks turning a soft pink.

“I know, you’re the one who wants intercourse while I really don’t care either way,” Alastor pats the top of her head with his gloveless hand, finding some comfort in the softness of her hair. “But you never forced me to do the act. If I didn’t want to fulfill my wife’s needs then I would have left you to your… toys…”

“But…”

“Stop, we aren’t having that argument again,” Alastor’s voice is stern and steady, but not aggressive. “And you didn’t ruin anything dear,” he pauses, composing himself and once again looking for the right words. It didn’t used to be this hard to talk to her, that’s the one thing that has been ruined, how easy it was to talk to her. “Listen, do I hate children? Yes. They are loud, and stupid, and always sticky for some reason…” He stops as he sees her eyes water again. “But…” He kneels in front of her, shifting their perspective so he can look up at her, “Saying I won’t love this baby is just wrong… how could I not love it? It’s a piece of you, the most incredible woman I’ve ever met… so how could I not care for it at least as much as I do you?” His voice slips fully into its natural sound, a rare occurrence even for Grace to hear, a slightly deeper tone than even just when he lets the radio filter come off. “And I didn’t ask you to terminate because… I knew you didn’t want to. I could never make you do that.”

“Alastor…” Her lips mouth the name as the phone projects it.

He takes both of her hands and brings both of them to his lips to kiss them. “Remember my dearest Gracie… you are the only being in all of existence that can bring me to my knees, so don’t doubt for a second that I wouldn’t do anything to make you happy… and I… I am sorry that I don’t always act in a way that makes that clear.”

She doesn’t wipe away the tears that are falling now, because they are warm tears that come with a smile.

Chapter 8

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Now that he has managed to soothe her worries for the time being, Alastor decides to shift the subject. He can only do this… vulnerability stuff for so long before it makes him queasy. He clears his throat, a quick cough and his radio effect returns. “Alright now my dear…” He continues to hold Grace’s hands as he stands. “I do have a surprise for you, I picked something up while I was in town today.”

“Oh?” The young woman tilts her head to the side. “Did you find s-me books for me?”

“Ah, no not quite…” He sighs, “I was going to look for some but I got busy with a certain… computer problem.”

The phone manages to convey her soft giggle, “Right, th-t silly little V-x’s stream…” For a moment her expression sours as she remembers that it was that silly little stream that shorted out her phone, so perhaps she shouldn’t dismiss him as quickly as her husband seems to. “I und--stand, what’s the surprise then?”

His smile grows even broader than usual… somehow she makes that possible. “I had to go to the tailor to get my coat fixed, and while I was there I saw a dress I thought you would look absolutely lovely in…” He carefully pulls her up to her feet. “It was in your size so I felt like it was a sign I had to get it.”

“Well you always have exquisite taste my l-ve,” Grace has to take a moment to balance herself, standing too quickly seems to have made her rather light headed. “May I see it?”

Once he is confident that she can stand on her own Alastor releases her hands and takes a step back. With a snap of his fingers Grace is suddenly engulfed in crackling green energy. She stiffens and shudders at the surprisingly cold sensation while all the little hairs on her body rise. It is something she never quite gets used to, but hell if it isn't convenient.

Beneath the cloak of energy her nightgown is stripped away and sent off to the laundry pile. Though she knows she is technically covered, there is a brief moment where she feels exposed and nude, and she shivers against the chill. But soon she feels herself wrapped up in clothing. Grace quickly recognizes the feel of silk and lace and layers as an older design. The fabric is genuinely softer than she would expect from a dress bought down here in hell, and she wonders if Alastor has been holding out with his powers, she wouldn’t have wasted money on fabric softener if he could have just been taking care of it this whole time.

It’s not just her clothes that are being altered though. Her smeared makeup is being wiped away, and soon after she feels a soft pressure on her lips and eyelids as a ghostly presence applies a soft look that will likely match with the new dress. She also feels the weight of a string of pearls come to rest around her neck, though she was certain they had not grabbed her jewelry box when she fled to hell, so she has to wonder if it’s one of her own pieces or something else. To finish things off she feels a pair of stockings appear on her feet followed by her most comfortable pair of flats.

When the demonic green energy dissipates, Grace is left in a beautiful knee length dress. Alastor chuckles as he looks his wife up and down, taking pride in his selection and how good she looks in it. The laugh dies down though as his eyes fall on her stomach, where the fabric is just a touch tighter than he anticipated when he said it was in her size. In fact he is so distracted by that area that he doesn't seem to notice that the bust area is even tighter, which is what Grace is struggling with, rolling her shoulders as she tries to make room to breathe.

“How do I look?” She manages to smile, not wanting to complain.

Alastor flourishes his cane and a floor length mirror appears before her. “Take a look for yourself dear.”

She steps forward, and her green eyes sparkle like emeralds as her face lights up. It's several layers of black lace and dark purple fabric with red floral embellishments. While not a fully formal looking, it's still a fairly fancy dress, one of the nicer ones he has given to her. The girl excitedly twirls so she can watch the layers of the hem flare up.

“Oh Al-stor…” when she stops she places a hand on his arm to steady herself. “It's abs-lutly lovely.”

He steps closer, left hand moving to hover behind her back just in case she falls. “I'm pleased you think so Gracie, I knoooooow it's more my era than yours, but I thought you would look spectacular in it.” He leans in to kiss her cheek. “And I was right, you are absolutely radiant.”

Grace takes a deep breath, and winces as the fabric strains. “There is just one sm-ll problem my love…”

He nods, “Yes I didn’t anticipate the growth of your stomach when I thought it was your size.” Alastor picks at some of the folds of fabric as though he can conceal the tightness.

She bites her lower lip, side eyeing her husband. “Actually… that area is not too b-d, I’m sure it was meant to be looser but I still have a bit of room so it’s comfort-ble there…” Her heart is a little heavy, she knows in the back of her mind that Alastor is less concerned with the comfort of the size, and more how evident it makes the part of her that he’s been trying not to think about lately.

“Right, of course as long as it’s comfortable that’s what’s important…” The overlord brings his hands back to his cane. “What seems to be the problem then my dear?”

“Well, it’s actu-lly this area that is uncomf-rtable,” she raises a hand and places it on her chest. When she sees her husband’s confused expression she sighs. “I know you do not pay much attention to that part of my body the way most men would but… the thing is…” She takes a deep breath, wincing as the dress constraints her ribcage once again. “My… breasts… have als- been gr-wing because of the pregn-ncy.”

“Ah… I see…” Alastor is silent for a good half a minute, she notices him do his little frog blink thing as he processes this new information. “Luckily I believe I can fix that,” he swiftly moves behind her.

In a flash of green light he summons a few small elastic bands. This is a trick his wife had taught him when she had become interested in thrifting old clothing and learning how to tailor so she could fix them up. Sometimes if an item ended up being just a little too small she would just…

He pops open the top three buttons on the back of the dress’ bodice. Immediately she sucks in a great big breath as the fabric loosens up. She makes a noise that sounds as though it would be a moan of relief if she still had her vocal chords, but ends up just being a rumble of air. His left hand is still missing its glove, giving it a bit more dexterity than the right as he loops the pieces of elastic around the buttons and through the holes, allowing for the two sides of fabric to be held together while giving it an extra bit of space.

“Better Gracie?” Alastor leans forward and whispers in her ear. With how close they are he can feel the shiver run up her spine.

“Much b-tter.” She smiles softly and turns around to face him. “Thank you so m-ch for the dress d-rling…”

“Of course my dear,” He starts to admire her again, but finds his gaze getting… stuck as he realizes what she was talking about. “Oh they… they really have… grown” He clears his throat and looks away. Although it’s not a part of her body he typically takes an ‘interest’ in unless there is a reason to, his more old fashioned notions tend to make him a little reserved on the subject.

Grace nervously plays with the fabric on the elbow length sleeves. “I was wondering if you were ever going to n-tice. I think I’ve gone up a full cup size in th- l-st month Al…”

In an attempt to distract himself from the way the conversation makes him feel awkward, the demon moves over to the table so he can retrieve his left glove from where he left it on the floor. “I see that now, I suppose I wasn’t expecting that part to change so I wasn’t paying attention.”

The woman looks in the mirror again, “I unfortunately don’t get the opt--n to not pay att-ntion…” She sighs, self-consciously bringing her hands up so she can cup her breasts through the fabric. “They’re so s-re all the time, I read that that’s what would happen but I honestly didn’t exp-ct it to be this bad.”

Alastor stiffens as he puts his glove back on. “You… never said anything.”

“I didn’t want to tr--ble you with it, not while you have so much on your pl-te,” she drops her hands down to rest on her belly. “It’s not like there’s much you could have done, after all…”

“If you’re in discomfort then I want to help Gracie. I could have… I don’t know…” He has one of his hands raised, resting in a cupped motion. When he realizes what he’s offering to his wife, and actually thinks about it, he swallows hard, drops the hand, and looks away.

Grace decides to be merciful and shift the subject before her husband has an existential crisis, “You know, it sucks that I’m all dress-- up with nowhere to go…” One hand subconsciously rubs the rounded part of her belly, “It’s such a beautiful dress b-t it won’t fit for very long…”

Alastor relaxes as the subject changes, and stands up straight. “Well, you could always wear it again… after, something you can look forward to over the next few months.”

“That could be true… but I’d have to tailor it a bit…” Her smile is soft and a bit sad, “I probably won’t just… snap back to my -ld size ‘after’.”

“Well, you have complained in the past about how underweight you’ve been since the chemotherapy, so I suppose it will all work out.” The demon sounds genuine enough, he’s never exactly been concerned with his Gracie being a certain weight, though it is rather annoying that he’ll have to be more conscientious of the size of clothing he buys her. “Though you are right, it’s a bit disappointing that your beauty must be contained to this room… I think I can do something about that though.”

Grace perks up, bouncing a bit in excitement, but keeping her mouth shut.

“It’s late enough in the night that the others should have retired to their rooms,” Alastor fiddles with his bowtie. “So, I suppose if you are careful and quiet then there is a spot we could take a walk to and spend some time. You would get to stretch your legs and finally get to see more of your new home.”

“I would really love th-t Al,” she steps towards him, getting up on her tiptoes so she can give him a kiss on the cheek. “I promise to be quiet as a m--se.”

He kisses her forehead in return, “But first, you simply must have more for dinner than just a jar of pickles…”

Grace groans, “First of all, it w-s only half the jar. Secondly, that w-uld be like going double or nothing gambling with this awful m-rning sickness…” She looks down at her stomach, “And I don’t particularly like my odds…”

Alastor mentally weighs the options. On one hand pickles probably do not have a good quantity of nutrition to sustain the fetus’ growth. On the other hand, if she eats more right now and ends up throwing up AGAIN, then there’s zero calories going into her body AND they have to clean up the puke.

“Very well my love, we can go out, but…” He says a bit firmly, “you have to promise that starting tomorrow you are going to start trying anything I put in front of you, you need to be eating more…” He strokes her hair gently.

Dear Grace’s features soften as she takes in her husband’s concern. “I will.” Though he is struggling with this situation, it’s clear that there is some part of him that cares for their child’s wellbeing, and that’s enough for her.

Alastor kisses her forehead once more, “Alright then dear, get your coat, I have a fantastic view to show you.”

Chapter 9

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

At night the halls of the hotel take on an eerie quality, the halls echo and the shadows seem to move. Though this doesn’t really surprise Grace. She always assumed that hell would be a rather creepy place whenever it’s not outright scary. If anything she finds it a bit weird that this place isn’t more off putting. Even when she was originally being hidden away in the attic of Rosie’s place she was surprised at how she wasn’t constantly hearing the screams of the damned.

Alastor’s shadow is wrapped around his wife, though it does not make her completely invisible, it does make it harder to see her in the dim light should they run into anybody who is wandering during the night. He walks tall, arms folded behind his back, and she trails behind with one hand out holding onto his microphone cane.

They pass by Angeldust’s room, and Grace pauses to admire the pink neon sign of hearts. There’s also a polaroid picture of a strange yet adorable little pig type creature, labeled ‘my baby’ but that seems to be the only photo he’s hung up so far.

Her husband senses her stop when there’s a resistance pulling on his cane. He glances back, then gives a gentle tug to remind her to keep moving.

A few moments later the two turn a corner and Alastor stops dead in his tracks, causing Grace to almost run into him. “Back.” He hisses softly as he watches Husker shuffle down the hall, presumably on his way back from the bar counter given the unopened bottle of ‘cheap booze’ in his claws.

Grace quickly conceals herself behind the corner, just in case the shadow doesn’t work as well as expected. Instinctively she puts a hand over her mouth, as though that’s necessary to help keep her quiet.

The first thing Husk sees is the red glow of the radio demon’s eyes. “The f*ck you doin skulking around?” He stops a few feet away from them and starts to uncork the bottle.

“Oh just taking a walk, I thought I would make sure everything is secure after that snake attacked today,” Alastors smile is a bit wider than usual, but he is otherwise calm. “What was his name again?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t f*cking paying attention,” The cat demon rolls his eyes and takes a swig from his fresh drink. “Anyways I’m trying to get to bed, and you’re in my way so…” One of his wings moves in a small sweeping gesture that can be best interpreted as ‘get out of my f*cking way.’

Alastor stands firm for a moment, mostly because he knows Husk will have to pass by his hidden companion to get to his room, and while he certainly has faith in his shadow powers, he knows that his dearest’s safety and concealment is far more important than his ego. Also he doesn’t like being made to do anything, especially by a soul that is supposed to be obeying him instead. And as contradictory as those two thoughts may be if you think about it for long enough, he remains unmoving regardless.

“You’re blocking like the whole f*cking hall ya freak…” Husker tries to step around him, but there isn’t a lot of space given that he wasn’t exaggerating about his boss taking up an excessive amount of room. This of course only makes him more aware of how suspicious the radio demon is behaving, especially when he sees him quickly glance off to the side. After a moment he grumbles and turns away. “I guess I can take the long way or whatever…”

There is one small problem that may cause some issues later. Although Alastor is very good at accounting for most things, there is something he has failed to take into consideration. Husker doesn’t just look like a cat, like many of the demons he took on the traits of the thing he’s taken the form of. His acute sense of smell has clued him in to the fact that there is absolutely somebody else in this hallway, but luckily it’s not quite strong enough for him to identify it as a living human, and he really doesn’t give enough of a sh*t to be concerned about it. Though he definitely will be taking Niffty’s ‘lady in the walls’ comments more seriously from here on out.

Once the overgrown fur ball has disappeared down the nearby stairs, Alastor holds his hand out to Grace. “Are you alright dear?” She nods quickly, but stays quiet out of fear of drawing unnecessary attention. “That was a bit too close for my liking. We should probably turn back…”

The girl’s lower lip quivers, and her eyes widen, but she knows better than to protest.

And yet that look is really all he needs. “Although I suppose we are almost there, would be a waste if we didn’t go all the way.”

When Grace snickers about ‘going all the way,’ he has to take a moment to think over his own words. He can’t quite place what she would have found funny in his statement, and decides it’s not worth asking.

A few minutes later they arrive at their destination. Alastor pops open the hatch to his radio tower and climbs through. He extends an arm back down, which his wife takes hold of. She grunts softly as she tries to climb through with his assistance, but she finds it difficult to keep her balance on the rungs of the short ladder leading up

The overlord frowns, then drops back down. He carefully scoops the woman up in his arms. “Watch your head,” he murmurs before boosting her up through the hatch.

Her voice comes from his coat pocket, “Thank you, s-rry…” the new dress doesn’t have any pockets so he opted to carry her phone for her. Once she is in the room she sits on the floor near the opening, catching her breath after their little journey. Her physical health never fully recovered after the bouts with cancer, making a lot of things difficult. But it was never this bad, now it seems as though she can’t even do the bare minimum without getting lightheaded and out of breath. If this is how bad it is while she is still in her first trimester, she fears she may be completely bed bound in a few months.

“It’s no trouble Gracie,” Alastor comes through the hatch and shuts it behind them. He waits for the human to catch her breath, then offers her his hand. She takes it and he helps her stand, and then returns her phone so she can hold it. “Now, why don’t you take a look!” He gestures around at the windows.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the red skies of hell. “Oh… wow,” she moves towards the closest window, her protective husband close behind. “Alastor… it’s incr--ible.”

She takes in the expanse of the city beneath them. The Hazbin Hotel has a unique position atop this hill, and Alastor’s radio room affixed near the top of the building allows them to view what feels like the entire layer of hell they reside in. Grace leans against the window, watching in amazement as the city lights pulse and glow. She admires the way that the different sections of the realm have varying color schemes, and wonders how it came to be that way. But what draws her attention the most is of course the bright glowing beacon at the center of it all.

“Is that th- heaven emb-ssy?” she points out at the large structure. She certainly hadn’t been expecting a giant hourglass when Alastor talked about the ‘obnoxious’ design of the building.

“Mhm,” Alastor affirms, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“This place is… so much more beautiful than I was exp--ting,” while her phone emanates her voice, her breath fogs up the glass. She uses her finger to draw a smiley face in it.

“One day you’ll get to explore the city for yourself my dear.” Alastor says. “I promise you won’t have to look from afar forever…”

“Sure, when I’m dead…” she sighs and turns away from the window.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Alastor’s smile stretches wide. “We have you hidden because it is the safest option for now. But if my plans go as I want them to, and well… they usually do,” He cups her chin, “then you will be safe to walk the city because no demon will be left that is stupid enough to f*ck with me by putting their dirty hands on you.”

Grace manages a soft and excited whimper at the intensity of the radio demon’s voice. She leans into his hand, practically intoxicated by his presence.

He chuckles, and puts a hand on her waist, “Of course it will have to wait until after the baby comes. We don’t want to be taking any risks while you’re with child.” Once she nods in understanding he releases her chin, and reaches for the radio console nearby. With a flick of the switch, a nearby set of speakers begins playing a song.

“Al-stor?” She raises an eyebrow.

“My dearest Gracie, may I have a dance?” His voice and expression are soft and genuine.

Her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as the upbeat jazz music fills the room. “Of course you may.”

Alastor guides her away from the window and towards the middle of the room. He raises one of her hands above her head and gives her spin, and soon they are in rhythm with the song. Despite the earlier tiredness, Grace finds the excitement of the moment enough to get her limbs moving.

The demon leads of course, as they dance across the room just like they always did on their little date nights. Occasionally when the dance brings them close he gives her a peck on the forehead, but mostly he watches the fabric of her dress shift and flare as she moves with grace and fluidity, creating an incredible spectacle of beauty and radiance.

But her stamina only lasts for a few moments, when he pulls her in for a dip he can see that sweat is already forming on her brow and her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she struggles to catch her breath again. He holds her that position for a few moments, and the music shifts from jazz to a softer ballroom song, and when he pulls her back up places one hand on her shoulder while the other intertwines with her fingers, and they begin to dance a slow waltz.

Alastor will always struggle to admit his feelings, even to this woman who made him realize he’s still capable of feeling things other than bloodlust. If he could bring himself to say the words he would tell her he’s missed this, for it had been far too long since they just… danced. But instead of saying anything like that, he just pulls her closer when her strength begins to fade, bringing his face down to the top of her head, her soft hair tickling his nose.

Grace rests her head against his chest when he does so, closing her eyes and just enjoying the moment. Rather than a heartbeat, she hears radio static with the faint sound of old showtunes. By this point she finds it completely normal, even if they’ve never talked about it. It makes sense after all, why would a dead man need a heartbeat? Tonight seems to be an old love song, and she wonders if Alastor knows that his ‘heart’ betrays him this way. But the possibility of him not even knowing is why she never brings it up, it’s her one little window into his true emotions, why would she risk him taking away her ability to peer through it.

Her feet begin to drag, so he guides her over to the console table. There is a clear spot that he raises her up to sit on.

“How are you feeling my dear?” Alastor murmurs into her ear.

“I feel good,” she places a hand on his cheek, “I’ve had a really nice time, thank you so m-ch for this.”

There is a pause as they just take each other in. The entire world slips away around him till they are just them. Her eyes like endless pools of swirling emerald fluid. His soft smile is like the warmth of the sun.

Suddenly and without warning Alastor brings his hand to the back of her head and pulls her in for a kiss. He is desperate to taste her, to hold her, to meld into one being that is invulnerable to the hell around them that seeks to destroy her.

Grace gasps into his lips, and finds herself with renewed energy, gripping his coat as she kisses back with almost fervent passion. She pulls him close so there is no space between them, spreading her legs so there is room for him to stand between them.

He hears her phone begin to buzz as it tries to convert her attempts to moan softly, but it tends to struggle with… noises. After a few minutes of this he can feel the heat in body rising, and can feel the familiar way she squirms when she needs him. So, he grabs her legs and wraps them around his waist, lifting her up off the console.

“Not here…” His voice is practically buzzing as the radio filter comes on extra heavy. “I do not wish to defile my workstation with what I am about to do to you…”

Chapter 10

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

They encounter no one on their way back to their room, which is good because it’s a lot harder to hide that he is carrying someone. Her thin limbs are wrapped around him with surprising strength, and her face is buried in the crook of his neck. Though with his high collar she can’t kiss the skin the way she wants, she still snuggles into the space affectionately.

Upon arriving in her room, Alastor carefully sets Grace down near the bed, and turns her so her back is to him,“ Hold still,” He says with a crooked grin. He removes her necklace and it vanishes in a puff of green smoke. His right hand index finger extends into a sharp claw, which he uses to slice the elastic holding the top three buttons together. She giggles, swaying a bit, at the sensation of the elastic snapping when it’s cut. Then with deft hands the demon undoes the remaining buttons, and slides his hands under the fabric to pull it away, exposing the thin white shift acting as an undergarment. Once he’s pulled the dress down past her hips he lets it drop to the floor, and helps her to step out of it.

The overlord’s gaze travels up and down his wife’s body, taking in the way fabric of the shift hangs loose around her frame, clinging to her skin in just the right places. He may not have the same kind of appreciation for Grace’s body as most men would, but he appreciates it just as much, if not more. She is beauty incarnate, a goddess in human form. A goddess that is all his.

The woman steps back and sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at him with glistening but heavy eyes. “ Al… take me , please…” She lays back on the bedspread, the white fabric of her shift spreads and pools across the red of the covers. Her arms move to rest above where her head is laying, a position of vulnerability and openness, waiting for her husband to come ravish her. Her swollen breasts and rounded belly are accentuated by her position, and for the first time the radio demon does not find himself put off by the sight of them.

Alastor chuckles, “ In a moment my dear,” he moves over to the dining table, turning his back to her as he removes his coat. Carefully he folds it and hangs it over the back of the chair, followed by removing his gloves and setting them down. He hooks a finger into his bowtie and tugs so that it comes undone and he can place it on the table as well. He turns back towards the bed as he begins to undo the buttons of his shirt, but pauses as he lays eyes on the young woman’s form. “ Gracie?”

Her chest rises and falls slowly, and upon approach he realizes that her eyes have shut. He comes to the side of the bed and lowers himself so one of his ears comes close to her soft lips, and confirms the faint sound of her snoring.

“ Oh my poor, tired love ,” he chuckles, unsurprised at this development, she had exerted herself quite a bit during their little dance, he had been more surprised than anything when she seemed to express the energy for other activities. It doesn’t bother him that she’s dozed off, he’s just glad she’s getting some much needed rest.

Carefully Alastor pulls back the covers of the bed, and gently shifts Grace so he can tuck her beneath them. He gets her head up on the pillow, and within a few moments she naturally adjusts to her preferred side sleeping position and her body relaxes into the depths of slumber.

Her husband removes his shoes then takes up a position on the other side of the bed, laying atop the bedspread on his side, head propped up with one hand so that he can watch her sleep. His mind wanders a bit, thinking back to ages ago, to the things he enjoyed about being with her in that way. The sounds he could elicit from her when they were being intimate. Her cries of passion, oh how he misses hearing them and knowing he was the reason those noises were being brought into existence. To know that no matter how much pleasure he brings his wife he will never be able to hear it in its full glory again brings a heaviness to his heart.

A thought occurs to the overlord. He sits up a bit and takes Grace’s phone from where it had fallen next to her pillow. Though he detests the tech he does find that it has its uses. He recalls there is something logged on the device, and after a few moments of trying to figure out how to navigate the damned thing he pulls up an old recording, turns down the volume so as not to awaken his sleeping beauty, and listens…

Approximately five and a half years ago.

No, it was exactly five years and four months before the opening of the hotel. A quiet Thursday night. Grace was laying in bed, reading the latest issue of national geographic. It was a time when she was livelier, healthier. Her body had not yet been ravaged, so her cheeks were still full and rosy, her limbs were still muscled and toned. She was practically a different person.

At 9:03 pm she picked up her phone and tapped the record button, lifting up to speak clearly into it. “Many of the Earth’s deadly animals are more unassuming than you’d think,” she began as she read over the article, vocalizing her thoughts. “Take the hippopotamus for example, although they are herbivores they have the jaw power to bite a human in half, and apparently they are so aggressive that if you run into one then there is a good chance they will try. I would have thought that if I’m on land then I’d be safe from something like an angry hippo, but apparently despite its size they can run anywhere between 20 and 30 miles an hour.”

“ Planning on getting a new pet?” Alastor rose up from the shadow she cast beside her on the bed, laying on his side with his head propped up.

Grace 's shoulders jumped a bit, betraying that she had been startled by him, but just turned the page in her magazine and pretended like nothing happened. “I mean I have been planning on getting a cat, but right now I’m just taking notes for the segment I want to pitch at work.” She set her phone on the bedside table. “I didn’t feel the summoning circle activate, when did you get here?” She asked while leaning over the side of the bed to check the chalk outline of the large sigil beneath her bed.

“ I came in through the kitchen circle,” he replied, “ Rosie acquired some decent red wine and I thought you might appreciate a bottle so I dropped it off in your fridge.”

“ Aw, thanks babe,” she shut the magazine and placed it on a pile of similar reading materials on the lower portion of the bedside table. She glanced over at him and noted the way his smile curled a bit in distaste. “Ok, putting babe on the ‘bad’ side of the list for pet names.”

“ Mmm, that is indeed something you should do, that one was… crude .” Alastor reached out and tucked a lock of her long brunette hair behind her ear. “ But feel free to keep trying, you’ll find something fitting eventually.”

Grace giggled and shifted her position to lean on her side facing him. Her brows furrowed as she took him in properly. He was not fully dressed, and he wasn’t just missing his coat and shoes as he normally would be if he was relaxing with her for the night. His shirt was fully undone, exposing his stomach and chest, with the strip of cloth for his bow tie hanging undone around his neck. He almost looked disheveled, in a very specifically sexy kind of way… too specifically…

“Are you trying to seduce me?” She asked, sitting up a bit more and admittedly taking in the sight with delight.

“ Maybe,” He said with a teasing lilt in his voice, his smile turned into a bit of a smirk. “ Is it working?”

Grace took a few seconds to continue admiring her demon boyfriend’s body, before shifting gears. “What did you do?”

There was a sound of a record scratch, Alastor’s radio powers being dramatic. “ Whatever do you mean my dear?”

“You need to tell me something that you think is going to make me upset,” she moved closer to him, hovering over the overlord. “I assume you did something, and now you’re trying to f*ck me so that when you tell me what you did I will be less mad.”

“ Grace, I am shocked and appalled that you would think so little of me,” Alastor said with a shocking amount of audacity for somebody who was just accurately called out on his bullsh*t. “ I am merely trying to take more initiative in our sex life, I thought you would appreciate…”

“No, no, no, shhhh, shut it,” She pressed a finger to his lips to shush him, but quickly pulled away when the nearby lamp began to flicker and his eyes darkened. But she didn’t back down. “I am not one of those 1920s socialite floozys that hung out in the speakeasies you went to. I’ve been manipulated enough in my life to know what this is. You need to tell me something that will make me mad, so you’re offering me something as a ‘treat’ so that when you drop the bombshell I feel compelled to take it easy on you since you gave me a ‘treat’...” She took a deep breath, sucking the air in between her teeth, “in this case the treat is sex.”

Alastor didn’t respond for the first few seconds, there was a sound like broadcasting dead air as his mind turned over her words for a bit. “ You really need to make a list of all the people who have hurt you, I would like to have a chat with them.”

“Don’t change the subject Mr. Radio Man,” Grace said, and in a surprising move she suddenly shifted her position, swinging her leg over so she could straddle his stomach and stare down at him from a position of ‘power’. “Here is what is going to happen. You are going to tell me whatever you came here to tell me. We are going to talk about it like mature adults, I am going to be allowed to have emotions about it. And then if I feel like it, I will let you decide if you want to f*ck me as an apology for whatever it is.”

Alastor laid there, too stunned at her boldness to retaliate for her insolence. He took her in from the new perspective, almost finding something pleasant about it. He certainly didn’t like the idea of being at the bottom of a power play… but he didn’t hate it as much as he was expecting to.

“Do we have a deal Al?” She offered her hand.

“ Deal…” He grasped it, and shook, there was an instinctive green glow despite the insignificance of the ‘deal’ but it was counteracted by the violet sparks at her fingertips.

Once they finished shaking she rolled off of Alastor, and sat cross legged facing him. “Okay, what’s going on?”

He sat up as well. “ So about that date night…”

Grace’s bright green eyes widened. “Alastor! It’s the one year anniversary of me being cancer free! Don’t you dare cancel on me…”

“ It can’t be helped Grace,” his right ear twitched, “ I took a step back from my responsibilities as overlord. I’ve been gone almost two years now and as a consequence some young upstarts have decided to start causing trouble . I have been requested to temporarily return from my ‘vacation’ to put them in their place.” Requested was a weak word for it, his leash was being pulled, and he must obey.

The girl sighed, her voice was sad when she spoke again, “But you were supposed to teach me your mother’s gumbo recipe… I already bought all the ingredients.”

“ I know I know,” He reached a hand out, hesitating at first, then placed it on her cheek. “ If I could say no I would , but it can’t be helped…”

She glanced down at his hand, her heart pounding a bit at the rare physical gesture of affection, especially with his gloves off, “How long will you be gone for?”

“ A few months unfortunately,” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “ Once they are dealt with I have to do some work to ensure the event does not repeat itself.”

Grace nuzzled into his hand, his skin was cold as death and yet she found comfort in it. “Will you be in danger?’

“ No not at all,” Alastor laughed at the notion, “ What do you take me for? Some small fry who can’t handle himself in a fight.”

“No, but…” she averted her eyes in embarrassment, “I love you so… I’m going to worry no matter how strong you are.”

Alastor was silent, his gaze softening a bit. His mouth opened as though he might say something in response, but this version of the radio demon is not yet ready to say something so…

“Just promise me you will stay safe, okay?” Grace leant forward and kissed his nose. “Come back to me in one piece…”

He cleared his throat, “ I promise my dear.” He brushed at his nose with his knuckle, his cheeks warm but luckily unable to betray any color. “ And when I get back I will make it up to you with the best date night yet. After all, it’s far too big a milestone to just let pass by.” Her eyes still held some worry and concern, so he took her hand and squeezed it. “ Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay .”

Alastor pauses the recording, his chest growing tight. Everything was in fact very much not okay. Upon his return nine weeks later, he was met with the most horrible of news. Their original date night had been planned for after her doctor’s appointment, when she was supposed to be scanned to confirm that she was indeed still cancer free. But when he arrived at her home after his conquests in hell, he learned that the cancer had in fact come back, more aggressive than ever.

They had both considered it a miracle that her first fight with the disease had gone so smoothly, only a few months of treatment and the tumor was gone. But the second time around was a fight that Alastor thought rivaled any of his battles in hell. He watched her wither away to almost nothing, all while he was left helpless to watch. Nothing was ever the same after, but he stood by her side, and swore he would always… he glances at her sleeping form, looks to where the blanket falls over her swelling belly… always support her.

After a few minutes of gathering his thoughts, he decides to press play on the recording once more.

-Back in the past, picking up where it left off when he paused the recording-

“Well,” Grace said, leaning towards him. “If you want to, I am still willing to let you f*ck me as an apology…”

Chapter 11

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Five years and four months ago, moments after Alastor and Grace had to discuss the fact that he would be canceling their very special date night.

“Well,” Grace said, leaning towards him. “If you want to, I am still willing to let you f*ck me as an apology…”

She yelped suddenly as something cold wrapped around both of her wrists. Alastor’s smile was rather devilish as his shadow tentacles bound his girlfriend, pulling her even closer, till her face was nearly up against his. He could feel her warm breath as she whimpered in excitement.

“That depends,” The radio demoned hummed, breathing in her scent deeply, lavender body wash never smelt so divine. “Tell me Grace, have you been a bad girl?”

She shivered as his voice filled her from head to toe. “Maybe, what if I have?” Her eyelids lowered seductively, “What if I’ve been a bit of a… demon?”

“Mmmhmhmhm…” Alastor chuckled. His shadows pulled her onto her back, and brought her arms up above her head. “You know I’m the only demon in this house,” He had a teasing tone on that last part as he slipped off his already unbuttoned shirt and moved to hover over her.

Over the course of their relationship the way the couple behaves in bed will shift as their bond grows, but at this point in time Grace was very aware that if she wanted Alastor to enjoy having sex with her, she needed to let him feel like he had power over her. And she was more than happy to play the role necessary to get him going.

She relaxed her body and tilted her head down, making herself small, submissive. “Whatever are you going to do to me Mr. Radio Demon?”

He brought one finger up to her chin, then slowly drug it down her neck, a claw just barely scraping the skin, enough to make her tingle, but also a subtle reminder that he could easily do so much damage if he wanted to. And yet he was also careful to avoid the red splotchy section on the right side of her neck, very aware that it was an area that was very sensitive to pain, and he didn’t actually want to hurt her.

Soon he reached the neckline of her night shirt. “Well to start, I’m going to get these pesky clothes of yours out of the way,” Though his radio filter was still on, his voice had more richness to it, a slightly deeper tone as his true voice, overtaking the 20’s trans-Atlantic accent just a bit.

Grace shuddered as his shadowy tendrils slipped under the thin fabric and pushed outwards till the buttons popped open. She giggled as they burst through the front of her shirt like a creature in a horror movie, before they dissipated, leaving her chest exposed.

Her breath was heavy and excited, causing her now bare breasts to rise and fall enticingly, “Alastor… touch me… please?” Her voice was trembling, desperate.

“Hmmm…” He tilted his head to the side with a bit of a cracking sound, leaning over and listening to the way she whimpered in need of him. He raised his hand to her left breast, hovering just above the sensitive nipple, pulling back every time she tried to lift herself up to feel his touch. “Patience my dear… is a virtue.”

She smirked, “There is nothing virtuous about our relationship Al…”

“Fair point,” he started the same way he touched her neck, dragging a single sharp nail gently in a circle around the nipple, watching as it quickly perked up in excitement. Once he was satisfied with her shaking whimpering, he fully grasped the pillowy breast and began to use his thumb to massage the hard bud.

“f*ck… Alastor…” Her voice started low, but jumped an octave on the last syllable of his name. She could feel pleasure radiating from his touch, and began to squirm and rub her thighs together as the stimulation began to get the rest of her body excited. The shadows around her wrists tightened to ensure she stayed in place

“That’s my girl…” He said in a low tone, and dropped his head down so his mouth was near the stimulated breast.

“A-Al…” Grace’s eyes widened as she watched him, this is much more than he’d given her in the past when it came to this kind of foreplay. “You don’t h-have to do anything more than what you w-wANT!!” She threw her head back and moaned as his lips wrapped around the mound of flesh and his tongue began to circle her hardened nipple. Additionally his other hand came up to begin playing with the other breast.

Her breathing continued to get harder as she panted in excitement of this new sensation. The tongue swirling eventually turned into sucking, with the explicit intention of leaving a mark. With each exhale she whimpered or moaned his name. She wasn’t used to this level of… attention from him.

Eventually Alastor separated his mouth from her body and sat up to admire his handiwork. Her cheeks were flushed red, her lower lip trembling and she whined with desire, and the skin that had been in his mouth was already beginning to darken into a hickey type bruise. He desperately wanted to mark her more, to take every inch of her and leave evidence of himself so that while he is gone she will know she still belongs to him.

But the overlord could tell that the girl needed more than to be marked, she needed to be claimed. He moved back on the bed so he was near her legs, in a swift movement he grasped the hem of her pajama shorts, panties included, and when she lifted her hips he quickly pulled them down, past her thighs then knees then all the way off, and tossed them to the floor.

Grace was panting, still shifting trying to rub her thighs together to give herself some friction and stimulate her needy crotch. But Alastor put a stop to that when he grabbed her by the knees and pushed her legs apart, positioning himself between them. He relished in her delighted squeal.

“Oh aren’t you such a needy little thing…” He hummed, then leant forward so he could capture her mouth in his. She was fighting the restraints of his shadows, desperate to press her body against his while opening her mouth to allow his tongue to explore.

After a moment of this he pulled away, only so he could begin to trail kisses down her chin, her neck, her chest… He could taste the salt of the beads of sweat that had begun to form on her as he continued down her stomach, then hips, till finally…

Grace watched in shock as his lips moved down, and when he repositioned himself she couldn’t believe what was actually happening. “Alastor… oh god Alastor please…” she pleaded.

He paused, looking up at her from his position between her thighs, red eyes glowing. “You know better than to refer to him here my dear. God has no place is what we are about to do…”

“Ffffuuuuck!” The woman threw her head back and arched her back as his mouth was placed upon her folds, his tongue quickly parting them and finding her cl*t. In response to her movement, more of his shadowed tentacles rose from the bed to hold her down.

Although unfamiliar with this particular act, it wasn’t difficult for Alastor to figure out what he needed to do, and it turned out the taste was not as… unpleasant as he expected it to be. His tongue flicked across the delicate bundle of nerves, and he found himself joyfully listening to the way her moans would pitch up when he got it right. Soon he found himself shifting to the space just below, he watched as her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth formed a beautiful O shape when his tongue plunged past her entrance and straight to her very core. Soon he found himself wrapping his arms around her trembling thighs to hold her in place as he simply devoured her.

Grace could barely control herself. As pleasure and ecstasy coursed through her entire being she could feel herself practically being elevated into clouds of bliss. Who knew a demon could raise somebody up to heaven? Her whines became staccatoed as her breathing stuttered. The girl’s lower stomach began to form a familiar tight coil.

“Al… Al I… I’m going to…” but her warning came too late, her whole body strained against the shadowy restraints as her insides felt the explosion of pure pleasure. She emptied her lungs with a scream of absolute bliss. All while the juices of her org*sm filled her demon’s mouth.

Alastor pulled back, trying to suppress a cough as her liquid love dripped down his chin. It wasn’t that it was unpleasant, not at all, but it certainly caught him off guard. He sat up and back, his own breath a little ragged as he took in his handiwork. She had been reduced to an absolute mess… and he was nowhere near done with her yet.

His hand moved to the button of his slacks, “Ready for the main event Grace?”

Her eyes were having trouble focusing to see him, but she could hear his voice. All she could manage was a nod and an attempt to spread her legs wider in anticipation.

The radio demon chuckled, pleased to have brought her to such a state. He slowly undid his pants and pulled his half hard co*ck free. He closed his eyes and stroked it a bit while listening to her beautiful whimpers and moans.

Grace’s vision finally began to focus again just as he reached a complete erection. Her breath hitched as she took in the sight, a beautiful piece of male hardware that it would take her years to get used to looking at. Perfectly long and thick, curving up just a bit when it’s at full mast like this. She continued to whimper in excitement as she watched him slowly pumping the shaft, that part has the same grayish color as the rest of his skin tone, but the tip is the bright red that decorates his overall color scheme, a unique result of demon anatomy that is currently dripping with murky precum.

“Alastor…” her voice was breathy, “I need you… please I need you so much.” Her desperate pleas were like music to her lover, he sat for a moment just listening to her beg.

And once he had his fill of that, he took one of her legs and wrapped it around his hip while lining up with her entrance, dragging his tip teasingly up the slick folds, gathering up some of that warm juice from her last org*sm.

“Remember this always Grace…” his voice dropped down to a low growl. “No pathetic human man will ever f*ck you as good as I do.” Upon his final word he thrust into her, filling her sensitive puss* completely in one motion. His co*ck kissed her cervix just as he fully sheathed himself.

The feeling of being stretched around him was so perfect that her moans of bliss caught in her throat, leaving her stuttering and gasping for air as she bucked her hips against his. When he slid back and snapped forward again she was able to catch her breath again just to scream.

“ALASTOR!” The woman’s voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls. He repeated the motion, and she repeated the cry of his name.

His own breathing became heavy as he set an almost punishing pace, thrusting while watching her eyes glaze over in pleasure. And she gave him exactly what he needed, the repeated calling of his name, rising up to certainly pierce the heavens and perhaps even reaching all the way down to hell. He tilted his head back, ears flat against his head, trying to focus on his breathing and rhythm.

Her whole body was already so overstimulated and enveloped in the intoxication of pleasure, and so it wasn’t long before her cries of passion devolved into near gibberish as her walls tightened around the demon’s co*ck in another org*sm.

Alastor grunted at the feeling, his nails digging into the thigh he was holding. He could feel his own climax coming quickly in response. Once her body went limp he pulled himself free just as he was overtaken, and he couldn’t help the deep moan he made as he spilled his darkish colored cum across her stomach.

Grace’s breathing was rapid as she tried to get oxygen back into her brain. Her voice was raw and yet with each exhale she still managed a small whine.

The overlord stayed as he was for a moment, composing himself, before he tucked his now softening dick back into his slacks. His shadowy tentacles receded, allowing her the freedom to move again, but she was so lost in coming down in the high all she could manage to do was bring one arm down to try and wipe the sweat away that had drenched her forehead.

Once Alastor had put his mind back together again he got off the bed and stepped over to the room’s attached bathroom. He quickly returned with two small towels, and tossed one on her face so she could wipe up the sweat better. Then he used the other to clean up the mess he had made up on her belly. The two don’t speak for a few minutes, Grace was too busy trying to bring herself back down to earth, and Alastor knew anything he said would just be static in her ears. Ultimately it took her several minutes for her to even be able to remember her own name, but now exhaustion was taking hold.

“Alastor…” she murmured, catching his attention.

He had been spending this time picking up the clothing he had thrown to the floor, which had led to him tidying up a bit in general, “No cuddling my dear, you know I don’t do that sentimental…”

“No… no I just…” her smile was soft as her eyes began to close, “I wanted to say… you said no man will ever f*ck me as good as you do but… I already know that… because there won’t ever be another man,” she chuckled tiredly, “I don’t plan on ever being with anybody after… after whatever this is ends. I’m always going to be yours… even when you get tired of me…”

The radio demon felt a sharp sensation in his chest, almost as though his dead heart was trying to beat, but instead it began to play a little melody that was just soft enough that only he could hear it.

“Well… Grace,” He moved over to the side of the bed and looked down at her, surprised at how stunning she looked in this state. He was about to say something, only to realize that she had already drifted off into a deep, sex induced slumber, and after a moment he softly spoke once more, “I can’t control what you do once I’m gone… but if it’s any consolation I… don’t plan on getting ‘tired’ of you any time soon…”

The recording doesn’t end there, but there’s no more audio aside from a soft snoring that matches that of the present day Grace sleeping beside the present day Alastor. She hadn’t even known she was recording this, having simply forgotten to turn the device off when he first arrived that evening. And the Alastor of that time didn’t know enough about the device to realize that it had not only recorded their entire sexual encounter, but that it had caught his moment of… softness.

He turns off the audio file, and plugs the phone into the wall charger so that it will have enough juice tomorrow for his wife to use. After a moment he takes a deep breath, and gets under the covers. Grace is laying on her side, facing the edge of the bed. Slowly the demon moves close to her, wrapping his arms around her frail body and carefully pulling her against his chest. She is so deep in her slumber that she doesn’t wake even slightly, but she does instinctively tilt her head back to nuzzle against him.

After a few minutes of lying there, Alastor swallows nervously, and moves one of his hands to rest on the gentle curve of her belly. He closes his eyes, and focuses on the feeling of her warm body, the sound of her breathing, and then gently he begins to shift that hand just slightly so that he is rubbing a small circle on this precious vessel of life.

His mind screams to pull away, to abandon ship, reminding him in a chanting mantra that he is not fit to be a father, he is not fit to be a father, he is not fit to be a father…

And yet his heart… that dead heart that this incredible woman breathed life back into all those years ago… it begs for him to stay, to love just one more thing in this wretched world. Begs him to change just enough to be the man that Grace needs… his child needs… to be a man that could have made his mother proud.

Chapter 12

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

A new day dawns. Many of hell's inhabitants begin to rise from slumber and start their day. During the night the Vs had their meeting to determine how to handle Alastor’s return to the city, and now the snake they have recruited is currently slithering towards the hotel.

In the meantime, Grace and Alastor are learning that unfortunately not even simple cereal is safe from the horrors of a demonic pregnancy’s morning sickness. As the woman finishes her latest bout of retching into the toilet, her overlord husband helps her to lean back and rest against his chest while they sit on the bathroom floor. He strokes her soft hair comfortingly as one of his shadow tentacles flushes the toilet, and another wets a washcloth in the sink.

“Feeling better dear?” He asks softly, taking the wet cloth and using it to gently wipe some vomit from her chin.

On the nearby counter her phone barely eeks out a weak, “No…” She curls up against him, arms wrapped around her stomach.

Alastor sighs and holds her close, he had almost finished dressing for the day before she got sick, but his hands are still bare, so his skin is cold against her flushed body,“You know I did tell you to let me raid that pharmacy before we came down here. Then we would have some anti-nau…” he stops when she squeezes his arm and sniffles. Though he didn’t agree with the reasoning she had at the time, he understood it, anything like that could have drawn unnecessary attention to them. They didn’t have the time to wait on prescriptions, but taking what they needed by force would have risked heavenly eyes investigating not only why a demon overlord was raiding a human pharmacy, but how a sinner made it to the surface in the first place. And the last thing they needed was some curious angel following their trail down here.

After about a minute of sitting in silence, Grace finds the strength to project her voice again, “You know, th-s is almost like the good old days… holding b-ck my hair while I puked up my guts after chemo treatm---s…”

Alastor’s smile wanes a bit as he thinks back on those days, but he does not let it fall completely, “I’m glad you can remember those days so fondly,” he responded sarcastically. With a snap of his fingers a cup of water with a lid and straw appears in his hand, and he gently urges her to drink.

“Sorry darling, j-st… trying to make conversati-n…” She lets him hold the cup for her while she tries to hydrate. While she drinks, her voice is still able to project from her phone. “At least th-s… tumor… isn’t trying to kill me.”

“Are you sure about that?” The demon’s gaze darts down to where her hand rests on the curve of her stomach. “Because it seems like it might be trying…”

Grace sighs, “Well at least we know it’ll b- over with in six or s-ven months… I think one of the w-rst parts about the cancer was not knowing wh-n the fight would be over…”

Alastor bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say anything that could be perceived as… rude. To say that perhaps the cancer was preferable to their current situation, but even as the thought runs around his mind, he knows that it’s too cruel to say. Suddenly his shoulders stiffen as his mind rolls those numbers around, and he remembers that something else will be happening in almost six months time.

“Al… what’s the ma-…” his wife senses the tension immediately, and she starts to sit up to look him in the eye, but she is interrupted by a horrific sensation in her stomach. Suddenly she lurches towards the toilet again, the water and what was left of breakfast coming back up.

The demon immediately casts aside those concerns and leans forward to gather up her short hair away from her face. “There there…” The retching doesn’t even bother him any more, he got used to it after the years of taking care of her while she was ill. His right hand comes down to her lower back so he can rub it comfortingly.

Her gagging and coughing slowly turn into sobs, “It’s official, th-s is worse than the chemo.” She spits to clear her mouth, then leans back again, tears welling up in her eyes.

“How so dear?” He wipes her chin with the cloth again.

She whimpers, and turns her face away from his gaze, slowly curling in on herself. “Forget it… f-rg-t it I’m sorry.”

“Come now Gracie… what’s on your mind?” He kisses the top of her head.

She sniffles, and wipes her dripping nose with the back of her hand. “When I had canc-r… when the ch-mo and radiation were burning me from the inside out I… I was the only one at r-sk of dying…” She chokes on her sobs, and Alastor holds her gently until she can speak again, “But n-w… if I can’t keep anyth-ng down it’s not j-st me that’s going to get weaker… I’m so… I’m so scared of l-sing the baby, after everything we’ve done to try and k--p it safe… what if it ends up dying because my body is too weak?”

This is of course what Alastor has been concerned about as well, but right now it’s going to be more beneficial to keep her from being stressed, “That isn’t going to happen dear. You are so much stronger than you realize, you are going to be fine.”

“Al-stor, I can’t even keep down water!” Her whole body is trembling as she cries.

“That is a bit of a problem I know…” He tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling, trying to think. “There isn’t much in terms of good medical care in the pride ring, I should have prepared for the possibility of you being this ill…”

She wraps an arm around his torso and squeezes, “It’s n-t your fault, we couldn’t h-ve anticipated it would be like this. We didn’t have any time to prepare.”

He pauses as she attempts to comfort him, his throat tight, she shouldn’t be worried about soothing his feelings… but she’s also wrong. Certainly he can’t blame her for not expecting it, after all she had so many other concerns on her mind at the time, that doesn’t excuse him failing to account for all the dangers. After all this is a half demon baby growing in a human womb, within a woman whose body has already been through so much physical strain that it would have been a miracle for her to even carry a normal pregnancy to term. He should have known. How stupid was he to not see these risks and prepared for them…?

Alastor holds her close, “Sinners regenerate, so there has never been much need for quality medical care, BUT there is a district on the south side of the pentagram where the souls of medical professionals tend to go and continue their… experiments.” His shadow tentacles return, and move towards the bathtub so they can begin running hot water, followed by dumping some bubble bath in. “Some of them do have connections in the other rings, I shall call in some of my favors and see about getting an IV and a supply of saline. I doubt any other demon based medicine would do you any good, but that will at least help you to hydrate…”

Grace clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she tries to think of a response to her husband’s suggestion, “That s--nds like a good plan but… Alast-r why in the ever loving f--k did you wait until now to mention that w-s an option?”

“I didn’t want to raise suspicion in the demon community by going around asking for things like medical supplies,” the overlord helps her to her feet, “I was hoping to avoid doing it because Jack is a notorious gossip… so I was planning to only go there as a last resort.”

Grace’s mouth opens, and her phone hums as though she is going to say something, she is processing where she’s heard that name before. Ultimately she ends up deciding that right now is not the time to ask if her husband has a habit of hanging out with other serial killers down here.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up. Once we have you set up for the day I will go to the district and…” He pauses, ears flicking suddenly. His whole body tenses as he looks in the general direction of the hotel lobby. He can sense the arrival of Sir. Pentious, as soon as Charlie let the snake into the lobby he could immediately feel the garbage signals of the Vox tech that the spy is smuggling in. “Not now…”

“Alastor?” Grace asks as she sits on the edge of the bathtub.

“I am so sorry my dear Gracie,” Alastor sighs while helping her remove her stained white shift. “Something has just come up, and I have to attend to it now. But the moment it is dealt with I will go into town. “

“Is everyth-ng alright?” The woman asks as she lifts up her legs so she can turn and put her feet in the tub.

“Nothing that you need to worry about dear,” He places his hands under her arms so that he can support her as she lowers into the bath water. “I know you are worried about being alone, but I promise you are safe in this hotel. I… I am going to figure out a way for you to get in touch with me though, even if I have to carry around one of those awful little cellphones.”

Grace gets a small smirk while playing with some of the bubbles “What if we got you a pager?”

Alastor rolls his eyes, “I suppose that could work, give me a few days, let's focus on getting you those medical supplies first.” He kisses the top of her head then steps out into the main room so he can grab his coat and gloves.

“Hey Al,” Grace’s voice is strong on the phone for a moment, something emotional is coming through, “If you see that bastard surgeon of mine down in that medical place… let me know…” The overlord glances back into the bathroom, and sees the lights have changed to a soft purple glow. “While I’m sure you have plans for him… I want to punish him first.”

The radio demon’s smile grows disturbingly wide. A chuckle starts deep in his chest, building to a laugh. Oh how he adores this woman. While he certainly has tortures planned, the likes of which have never been seen, he knows that it will be much more entertaining to watch his beautiful wife inflict the suffering upon the bastard who stole her voice from them. Because while Grace may be sweet and kind, she far from lives up to her name. And it is certainly comforting to hear her have so much fire left within her despite her situation, it reassures him that everything will be okay.

“Trust me my dearest Gracie, the moment he arrives in hell I will know, and I will bring him to you.” He fixes his bowtie. “Now, take good care of yourself today.”

Grace senses him evaporate into the shadows, and she slowly sinks deeper into the bath water, bubbles coming up to tickle her nose. She closes her eyes, allowing her mind to wander between the depravity of torture, and the comforting thoughts of picturing what her baby will look like. As she lays in the tub, she is blissfully unaware that the hotel has been infiltrated by a snake.

Chapter 13

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

“Ah yes, you’re the one who ruined my coat,” Alastor could not believe the absolute audacity of this snake, to show up after the thorough beating he took and try to act like he wants redemption, “I definitely remember you now…”

Sir Pentious reeks of Vox tech, and while it’s already bad enough that the demon with a habit of blowing up walls is now within the hotel, the idea of that arrogant television sneaking his camera into Alastor’s safe haven has the radio demon about ready to eviscerate the spy right in front of poor, naive Charlie.

When Sir. Pentious hands him the piece of his coat that he had ripped off the previous day, Alastor wants nothing more than to shove it down his slimy throat. “This must have meant quite a lot to you.” Instead he ignites it with a green flame that nearly singes his own gloves. The overlord maintains an intense level of eye contact as Charlie guides her new guest away before the situation spirals out of control.

Alastor crosses the lobby to the bar, where Niffty is furiously scrubbing the counter, while Husker works on wiping glasses. Well the cat demon is really just wiping a single glass with a dirty rag, just trying to look busy so that the princess won’t try to drag him into whatever redemption exercises she has planned.

“So,” Alastor takes a seat on the barstool, watching as Charlie’s small group are forced to participate in some kind of ‘clap and talk’ activity. “Who thought it would be a good idea to bring that one into the hotel? I would have thought the princess’ overprotective girlfriend would have stopped this kind of shenanigan.”

“Oh trust me she tried,” Husk replies, “But Charlie pulled her little puppy dog eyes thing and she caved faster than a bridge made out of toothpicks.”

“Well I’m glad he’s here!” Niffty nearly squeals as she takes a seat on the edge of the counter, “It’s so exciting to have a real ~bad~ boy here!”

“Right…” Alastor hums, side-eyeing the maid. The trio sit in relative silence for a moment, watching the absolute disaster of Charlie trying to get Angeldust to cooperate. The radio demon is unsure of how best to approach this situation, if he outright harms Sir. Pentious then it will upset Charlie, and while he really couldn’t care less about the little princess’ feelings in this situation, he needs to maintain her trust and permission to reside in the hotel. Perhaps if he waits until the snake is alone he can take him out, dispose of the body, and then allow the others to assume that he has abandoned the path to redemption that they believe he is on.

He is pulled out of his thought process by a sharp jabbing in his arm. Looking over he sees that Niffty is poking him to get his attention.

“Yes Niffty,” Alastor turns a bit on the stool to face her.

“I clean?” She asks with her single eye wide, but doesn’t elaborate.

“Of course you clean dear, that’s your job, you are a maid,” Alastor tilts his head.

“No, no,” she shakes her head vigorously. “I clean the shhhhh?” She presses a finger to her lips, as though trying to convey she is talking about a secret.

The radio demon sighs, “Yes you may Niffty dear…” while he can appreciate the tiny one’s attempt to not reveal to Husker that there is a secret room, all she is doing is drawing attention to the fact that… well there is a secret room.

Which of course is something that the bartender isn’t going to just let slide. As he watches the maid manically giggle in delight and scurry off, he sets down the glass he was pretending to clean, and grabs a bottle off the top shelf. Silently he fills the glass with the whiskey, while watching his overlord owner continue to observe the group bonding activities.

“So then, Al…” Husk slides the glass across the counter. “That lady in the walls that Niffty mentioned yesterday, it wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the person you were skulking around with last night, would it?” He can immediately tell that his boss is questioning how he would have even noticed his companion last night, so he points to his nose, “the cat face isn’t just for show, don’t know how you hid them from sight so well, but I could smell them the moment you turned the corner.”

Alastor glances at the drink, and momentarily contemplates if this is meant to be some kind of peace offering. But he knows the cat better than that. He also knows that the demon on the other side of the bar is smart enough to know that a drink or two isn’t going to loosen his lips or anything of the like. So that only leaves one thing, Husk is playing his role as bartender, the ears for all those who drink at his station. He may act like everybody dumping their problems on him is annoying, but the truth is he probably enjoys getting whatever gossip he can, just to keep his life just a little bit entertaining.

The radio demon picks up the glass and takes a sniff, though it’s higher quality than most of the swill in hell, it’s still only barely up to his standards. “Tell me Husker, what makes you think it’s any of your business who I keep company with?”

The other demon rolls his eyes, “Listen Al, it ain’t like I can tell nobody about it, you got that leash around my neck tighter than a noose, all you gotta say is ‘don’t tell anybody’, and I have no choice but to keep my mouth shut.” He gestures in the direction that Niffty ran off in, “But clearly she knows, and we both know that she is more than a couple crayons short of a box, so it’s only a matter of time before she goes and spills the beans, I mean you saw how she was just now.” He folds his arms. “I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass what goes on in this damn place. But I don’t wanna have to deal with whatever tantrum you throw when people find out whatever you’re hiding, but if they start poking around your stuff or Niffty says something odd again then I can’t help conceal a secret. Not if I don’t know what the f*ck is going on.” Pressing his boss for details about his personal life is a bit of a gamble, but Husk likes his odds.

Alastor absolutely detests when somebody other than him makes a good point. “Very well then, this stays between you and I, and Niffty, if you breathe a word about this to anybody else…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Husker waves his paw dismissively, “Keep my mouth shut or you’ll gut me like a f*cking fish or something…”

The overlord looks at the whiskey again, the dark surface barely reflecting his gaze back at him, before speaking low to ensure no prying ears hear anything, “When I spruced up the hotel I constructed a hidden room, within that room is a person whom I am currently obligated to protect.” He lifts the glass to his lips and takes the whole thing in one swig. It does nothing for him alcohol wise, but the taste does bring back almost fond memories. When he sets it back on the counter he sits straight and makes eye contact with the bartender. “Due to current circ*mstances I can not even allow the princess to know of her residing here. And that is all you need to know.”

“Right…” Husk responds, not bothering to keep his voice soft, but still watching the others across the room to make sure nobody seems to be paying attention. “So then why does Niffty…”

“It would appear that her dedication to the slaughter of insects is strong enough to take her into the ventilation system,” Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose, “She stumbled upon the room while scurrying around up there.”

“Ah, that does sound like her,” Husker leans against the counter, “So, I’m guessing all this tension I’m sensing is you being concerned about the fact that the snake with a penchant for putting holes in things is currently inside the hotel. Are you worried that he’s going to do it to the wrong wall and expose your little girlfrie...” He coughs as light strangulation sensation encompasses his throat.

“Let me be clear, Husker my boy. You aren’t sensing any tension, I am not tense,” says a very tense Alastor, “I don’t need to worry about the snake because I can handle him. I don’t want to hear you implying that I can’t handle a small issue like him.” He releases the essence of the leash when Husker nods. “And she is not my girlfriend, so you better not go spreading any rumors about such things.” It’s not exactly a lie, Grace is indeed not his girlfriend, and yet Alastor can’t help noticing that saying that makes it feel as though his wedding ring is heavier under his glove.

“I know you think I’m dumb but you know I’m not that f*cking stupid right? Like I’d ever go spreading that kind of business around, I’d just be asking for you to slit my throat.” Husk moves back to the liquor shelf and grabs something sh*tty and cheap. “So, I’m guessing you’re also working to make sure that TV pal of yours doesn’t get his wires into the hotel?” He uses the bottle to gesture towards Sir. Pentious on the other side of the room. “Cause he’s so clearly a spy, am I right?”

Alastor nearly shudders at the thought of that bastard light box being his ‘pal’, “I can feel the technology he is trying to smuggle in. But how did you know?”

“You and the screen-head were broadcasting your beef yesterday,” The bartender smirks, taking a drink from the cheap booze. “The timing is suspicious, I mean you’d have to be a moron to not make the connection.”

“Yes… indeed..” The overlord glances over his shoulder at the princess as she desperately attempts to get the p*rnstar to participate in her bonding activity.

“What’s your problem with him anyways?” Husk asks.

“Believe me, it’s not a very compelling story, he is simply bitter that I am a better entertainer than he is,” Alastor chuckles. He follows up by straightening his bowtie a bit and locking eyes with the other demon. “It occurs to me that there is something I need to address with you. Since you were so insistent on knowing about my little ‘secret’, I should let you know…” His eyes flicker, and he seems to grow taller, nothing significant enough to draw the attention of the others in the lobby, but enough to punctuate his next statement. “If that person comes to be in danger, you will protect her with your miserable pathetic life, do I make myself clear?”

Husk feels his blood run cold, he doesn’t need to see his master’s demonic form in its full glory for it to have an impact, and yet he still is not a fan of just taking orders, especially ones like that, “Why the f*ck should I? Whoever she is, she's your problem, not mine.”

Alastor’s voice is practically a hiss, “Believe me Husker, my old friend, I will make it your problem if I need to. Her safety is more important than anything else going on in this hotel, and since you’ve decided to stick your muzzle where it doesn’t belong you are now responsible for that safety.” The bartender is very lucky this conversation is happening while there are others nearby.

“f*ck, whatever fine…” Husk tries to conceal his desire to smirk. He might not be feeling so cheeky if he was witnessing the level of frustration and power that the overlord is wanting to display. But as it stands, this behavior indicates to him something very important; Alastor has a weakness, and it’s within the walls of this hotel

Chapter 14

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Imagine for a moment that you are a rat living in the vents of a hotel. You have a beautiful nest made out of couch stuffing and demon cat fur. Your beautiful rat wife has just given you a litter of perfect rat babies and they are all snuggled up in this nest. And the golden-haired, red clad giant that you worship as a goddess blesses your family with cheese and crackers every other day. Life is good.

Until one morn you are suddenly awakened from a deep slumber by the whole world shaking around you, as though these metal tunnels are about to collapse. Is this the end? Is today the day you die with your rat family?

You squeak out a prayer to your rat gods, “take me, but please spare my children. they are yet new to this world. i beg you please, they do not deserve to die before they have even seen the beauty beyond these silver walls.”

What little light fills the vents is obscured by a shadowy figure far larger than your tiny rat form. There is a scraping against the metal as the giant approaches you so quickly that you can not even fathom its movements. Suddenly you are faced with the glow of a single, giant eye, it comes close, blinking slowly. It is bright like the beacon of a lighthouse upon a stormy crag, and seems ready to incinerate all which its gaze falls upon.

Then you see the teeth of the monster’s wide smile, it’s breath hot as a desert wind against your fur. You tremble in the nest, standing between this horror and your defenseless babies. You bare your own yellow fangs, and yet in the face of such an unfathomable being you are incapable of striking. There is nothing, only fear.

The eldritch being opens its maw, and from it pours sounds that you can only imagine are meant to be words in its ancient language. Fear turns to madness as its voice penetrates your brain, picking it apart cell by cell, leaving you a gibbering mess as the thing turns and leaves. The world is quiet again, and yet your ears are filled with that horrible noise, sound swirling till finally your mind is broken enough that you understand what it said.

“I’ll be back to clean you up later”

You are left to only imagine what horrors and tortures this monster will inflict upon its return. Your wife squeaks, you no longer understand your own native tongue. But you know that there is only one way to protect her and your children from this being and whatever it will inflict, only one way to save them from falling to the same insanity that has broken your tiny mind.

‘I must save them,’ is all you can think as your wife’s throat blood fills your mouth and the soft flesh of your babies is torn by your claws. ‘I must save them’ There is no god, there is only the abyss, and your happy little life has just been cast into it.

Many wonder if Niffty realizes that she often resembles the bugs she so eagerly wages war with, but none are brave enough to ask. There is no better example of her near insect like behavior than the way she skitters around the vents. She moves quickly, nimbly, her hands and feet causing the metal to shake and vibrate as she traverses her personal tunnel system.

After her bath Grace emerges from the bathroom in a cozy red robe with her hair wrapped in a towel. Upon entering the bedroom she feels a chill run up her spine, the hairs stand up on her arms. She looks around, trying to find the source of this intense level of fear. Upon seeing the vent near the ceiling she realizes that through its metal slats there is a single giant eye watching her every move.

“Housekeeping!” Niffty’s voice is filled with pure joy, unaware of how utterly horrifying she appears at this moment.

Grace sighs in relief once she realizes she’s not in any actual danger. During breakfast Alastor had informed her that the maid had been sworn to secrecy, and then since she now knew of the room, it had been decided she might as well be allowed to come clean it. So Nif’s arrival is not as anxiety-inducing now that Grace knows she is not actually in any danger… probably.

The woman approaches the vent and carefully removes its cover. She’s about to lift the small demon out of it, but instead jumps back when she scurries down the wall like a feral squirrel.

Niffty brushes the dust off her apron and shakes her head to clear the cobwebs out of her hair, then smiles widely at Grace, “Hi, I’m Niffty, I clean!”

The human realizes that while this is certainly a little oddball, she is nowhere near as terrifying as she seemed in the moment of panic yesterday. She opens her mouth to introduce herself but her phone, in the pocket of her robe, remains silent without Alastor present to connect the two.

The maid tilts her head, confused at the lack of response.

So Grace takes out her phone and opens it to the notes app. After a few button taps she carefully squats down and shows her the screen, while extending her left hand for a shake.

-hi Niftey, i’m Grace. its nice to meet you-

The small demon blinks at the screen, slowly reading the message out loud, then grins and takes her hand, shaking vigorously. “Hi Grace, it’s nice to meet you too! I haven’t seen a living person in a long time, not since I was alive anyways. How did you get to hell without dying? Also it’s N-I-F-F-T-Y, Niffty and I ooooooo!!” The little maid is rapidly shaking the woman’s hand this whole time, when suddenly she notices the wedding band. “Those are such pretty colors! I’ve never seen a red and black ring before! No wait, I have!” She starts bouncing up and down. “One time Alastor got a whole bunch of blood on his gloves and he had to take them off, he thought nobody was looking but I saw and he had a ring on just like…” she gasps suddenly and dramatically, “are they wedding rings? Are you two married? I didn’t know he was married!” She folds her arms and starts to pout, “How could he get married and not invite me to the wedding? I thought he was my friend, that’s just rude not inviting your friends to your wedding.”

As Niffty’s little mind rapidly works through her thought process, Grace is forced to lean against the wall a bit to maintain her squatting position. When she tries to type something on her phone she begins to lose her balance, teetering a bit at her calves and stomach cramp from the position.

“Oh no! You don’t have to be down here with me!” The small demon hops up on a nearby chair and holds out her hand. When Grace takes it she pulls with all her might to help the woman stand, which is a surprising amount of might given her utterly tiny size.

Once she is standing Grace smiles with gratitude, she has one hand on her stomach, the robe is thick enough that it conceals her small bump. But she needs to take a few deep breaths while she waits for the cramp to pass, it’s strange having to be so limited in her range of motion. The whole time she does so Niffty is watching with her little mind turning its little gears. Luckily the possibility of the woman’s condition is such an out there idea that it doesn’t cross the maid’s mind… yet.

Grace taps out another message on her phone.

-yes, i am is wife. but it was dangeruos for me to have other people know he is married. we keep it hush hsuh-

She puts a finger to her lips to make her point clear.

Niffty nods rapidly, then looks around the room. “Oh wow it’s really dirty in here, I don’t know why Alastor didn’t have me come and clean sooner.” She starts to scurry around the room, producing a feather duster from nothing so she can get at the various spots of dust and cobwebs that have accumulated around the room. “If you guys didn’t want me coming in here why didn’t you clean yourself? Or do you like living in a dirty place? It’s okay if you do it’s just not my thing I need to clean everything needs to be clean you know?”

Grace sighs and takes a seat, leaning back in her chair and looking away, a bit ashamed because the maid is right, it’s a mess in here, and she’s not proud of it. And though he didn’t say anything she knew it bothered Alastor, but he hasn’t had the time to do it himself. She types out another message, and when Niffty next scurries by she holds it up for her to read.

-i’ve been very sick lately so i don’t have the energy to claen. and AL has been busy so he can’t do it either-

“Oh, well that’s okay then,” Niffty now produces a broom and goes over to the bed so she can sweep the dust bunnies out from underneath it.

The two actually manage to maintain some semblance of a conversation for a little while as Niffty works on cleaning the room. It’s mostly the maid chattering away while the human listens, but she always makes a point to come over when there’s a message to be read.

Grace actually properly relaxes for the first time in… well a long while. Though the conversation is heavily one sided it is still enough to ease the loneliness that she’s been feeling while cooped up in here. At some point she subconsciously slips a hand under her robe where the fuzzy fabric folds over on itself, and allows it to rest on the warm skin of the baby bump.

Once Niffty has finished cleaning not only the bedroom and bathroom, but swept up the secret tunnel as well, she stands atop the edge of the bed and spreads her arms wide. “All done!” The room is probably the cleanest in the hotel now. Despite Alastor’s efforts the majority of the building is still rather dilapidated, but this room is freshly built and therefor in good condition. “You know you should really get some windows in here, it’s so depressing without any light I bet it sucks being stuck in here all day. Why are you staying in here anyways? Don’t you want to go out and explore? I mean I guess hell is probably scary for a human but the hotel is safe. You should come out and meet Charlie and Angel and everybody they would love to meet you. Why is Alastor so big on keeping you a secret?”

Grace picks up her phone again to try and type up a message, but she ends up just staring at the screen, unable to find the words to express to Niffty what her situation is, without revealing too much that is.

“That would be because living humans are not meant to be in hell, it is borderline illegal for a demon to bring one here,” the familiar voice of her husband causes Grace to jump slightly. Not because his sudden appearance out of nowhere surprised her, that is something she has gotten used to over the years, but rather it is the tone of his voice. While not harsh in any manner, it lacks the softness with which he usually speaks to her. “Were Charlie to discover Grace’s presence here, then as princess of hell she would be obligated to see to it that she is returned to the human world.”

Grace’s phone crackles for a moment as Alastor’s power connects her voice to it. “We also really can’t be sure that it would be safe for me out there. If somebody with bad intentions came into the hotel, especially one who has a grudge against Alastor, they may try to hurt me, and I am… squishier than you demons.”

Niffty pauses, looking at Grace’s phone, then looking at Alastor, then back, “Your voice… is so PRETTY!” She goes over to Grace and takes a closer look at the device.

The woman hesitantly allows the demon to hold her phone so she can hear her talk more clearly. “Thank you Niffty.” She then looks up at Alastor. “Is that situation from earlier dealt with?”

Alastor sighs, “Unfortunately not, but I wanted to come check and see how you are doing.” He looks to the maid. “Niffty, would you mind keeping Grace here company for the remainder of the day? I have concerns about the state of her health and I need somebody who can come get me if she suddenly worsens.”

Niffty smiles, then looks at Grace with her one big eye wide as it can be. “Do you want to see my roach puppet shows?”

Surprisingly the human doesn’t find this as appalling as others might, “I would love to.”

Chapter 15

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Grace quickly learns that, unsurprisingly, a ‘roach puppet show’ is exactly what it sounds like. Niffty goes to her room, she insists on continuing to use the vents even though Alastor has taught her now how to use the secret passageway. Upon her return she has a box filled with several dead roaches glued to sticks and with pieces of tissue paper wrapped around them.

“Oh no!” Niffty says in despair, “Miss. Bumblebutt is missing!” Somewhere in the hotel there is a roach in a green tissue paper dress crawling around with a stick glued to its back. “The show must go on!”

Meanwhile Alastor is enduring a ‘puppet show’ of his own. Charlie is no screenwriter and that is quite obvious from the dialogue of her little ‘say no to drugs’ play that she is forcing Angeldust to perform with Sir Pentious. As he watches the atrocity he finds some amusem*nt in the spider demon’s suffering, but that is the only enjoyment he can find from the trainwreck. His mind briefly wanders to his youth, when he was human and great writers would write plays for radio, two or so actors opposite each other dramatically reading off scripts while somebody used odd items for sound effects. He had introduced many performances of varying quality, and had often considered writing his own but never could find the kind of creativity necessary to craft a fictional narrative.

Ultimately though he decides that between the poor acting and abysmal writing that this play is far worse than anything he ever introduced on his show. Though he almost has to give some credit to Sir Pentious for genuinely trying to put on a good performance. If only the snake was half as good at acting for the job that Vox has sent him here to do.

Niffty’s play ends with a dramatic reenactment of an exhausted housewife stabbing her useless husband to death. Grace applauds vigorously as the maid bows, but she makes a mental note to keep an eye on her when she has sharp objects.

Despite her energetic clapping, the young woman is very pale and tired looking. When her hands come to rest in her lap afterwards they are shaking a little bit.

The little demon notices this very quickly, “Are you okay?” She approaches the human, her large eye filled with concern.

Grace manages to type out a message but it takes a few extra seconds as she struggles to hit the right buttons.

-i’m fine, just a little undre the weather.-

“Are you sure you’re okay, you look really… shaky,” the cyclops tilts her head.

-i just haven’t eaten anything today. i was sick this morning and haven’t been feeling up to trying to eat again-

“That’s no good,” Niffty wags a finger in a ‘no no no’ fashion, “Everybody needs to eat, three good square meals a day is best but anything is better than nothing.”

-i would if i could but my stmocach can’t keep anything down latley. Al was suppoesed to go somewhere to get me medicine but i guess there was some kind of issue here at the hotle that is holding him up?-

Niffty puts her hands on her hips. “I will be right back then! If his wifey is sick then that should be his first priority! I’m going to go tell him to get his butt moving to get you that medicine!”

Before Grace can stop her, Niffty rushes over to the wall, clambors up it and climbs into the vent.

A few minutes later Alastor feels a tug on his coat while sitting at Husker’s bar. He looks down to see a very angry little gremlin cyclops.

“Is everything alright Niffty my dear?” Alastor asks with a raised eyebrow, he can not even begin to imagine what would have occured between her and Grace to cause the level of fury he is seeing, though he suspects it's something a bit more mundane than one would think.

Niffty stomps her tiny foot, “You were supposed to get medicine! She’s sick and instead of taking care of her you are…” she starts to gesture dramatically then pauses, “what are you doing anyways?”

Husk is in the middle of reorganizing the liquor shelf, he continues this task but keeps his ear on the conversation between his master and the maid.

Alastor rolls his eyes and gestures to where Charlie and the others, minus Angeldust, are working on more bonding activities; it seems board games are the new attempt. “I am ensuring her safety by watching our newest guest. He is a spy for somebody who wishes to bring me harm, and while I can certainly handle myself against them, I have no wish for any risk to fall upon her. So I have to ensure that the snake does not complete his mission.”

“Oooo… so the bad boy is also a spy?” Niffty is momentarily distracted as she looks over at Sir Pentious, who’s scales shiver suddenly as though he can sense her gaze. But the maid quickly shakes her head and looks at Alastor again, “She is sick! You need to go get her medicine, you're her husband so that’s your job!”

Glass shatters behind the bar. Alastor glances back to see Husker staring at them with wide eyes, having apparently dropped a bottle in shock at the revelation that the radio demon is apparently married to the secret guest.

Before the bartender can say anything, the overlord’s eyes flash and his antlers momentarily grow a couple extra inches.

“Oh my gosh is everything okay over there?!” Charlie calls from across the room, she begins to stand up to come check on them.

Alastor’s stare intensifies, and Husk swallows hard before calling back, “It’s nothing, just got a big old pair of butter paws over here!”

“Clean, clean, clean,” Niffty is chanting, already holding a broom and dustpan and sweeping up the broken glass.

The radio demon’s form returns to normal, and his strained smile at the cat demon widens, “Husker old pal. I need you to go run some errands for me...”

---

A little while later Grace looks up from her writing desk as the vents shake ominously. After a moment Niffty pokes her head out, then drops to the floor with a suspicious brown sack.

“I’m back!!” She cries, triumphantly,“And I brought snacks!” She quickly crosses the room to where Grace is sitting, and starts rooting around the bag, “I had to ‘borrow’ them from everybody’s room, but you need to eat something and if all the food you have is making you sick I thought maybe somebody else’s food will do.”

Grace smiles appreciatively as Niffty pulls out the protein bars and hard candies that she fetched from Vaggie and Charlie’s nightstand. Though it turns into a bit of a silly smirk as the maid also pulls out a bottle of rum that had been hidden under Husker’s bed. And then it becomes a bit of a concerned frown when the little one produces a baggie of white powder that she had discovered in Angeldust’s wardrobe.

-thank u very much nifftey, you are so sweet-

Despite her concerns about getting ill again, Grace opens up one of the protein bars, figuring the condensed nutrition might help her get her strength back if she can keep it down. Niffty climbs up onto the writing desk and starts eating some of the hard candy, specifically by chomping down on them so hard it would certainly break a human’s teeth. After a minute the woman shows the demon another message on her phone.

-can you tell me about the other peopel here? i can hear their voices through the walls sometimes but i don’t know anything about tehm.-

“Who do you want to know about?” Niffty pops another candy in her mouth and chews.

-what about the one who’s always singing? i think her name is charlie?-

“Oh well Charlie is the princess of hell, her dad is the ultimate bad boy, Lucifer.” The two go on to converse for a while about the residents of the hotel. Allowing Grace to finally gain a bit of understanding about the people she is being hidden from, though she also recognizes that she should probably take some of Niffty’s commentary with a grain of salt. Eventually they work their way down the list of hotel staff and guests and arrive at Sir Pentious.

-ok so sir pentiuos is the one who blew up one of the walls yesterday? but now he’s a guest?-

It took the woman several attempts to get even close to a spelling of the snake's name that sounded remotely right.

“Yeah, he’s a real bad boy, I like him,” Niffty starts to reach for the baggie of white powder, she doesn’t know what it is but she knows the spider LOVES the stuff. But Grace casually picks it up and moves it away, shaking her head. When the small one pouts in response Grace pats her head and types out a new message.

-trust me niffty, u don’t want any of that…-

---

Later that evening Sir Pentious’ deception is revealed, but in the course of a song he is finally properly converted to the path of redemption. As Alastor crushes the video watch with a sinister laugh, he can’t help but to think that while she may be naive and make stupid decisions, Charlie does seem to have quite a talent for molding the will of those around her. His shadowy form slinks down the hall, and discovers Husker freshly returned from town, overburdened with boxes and bags.

“The f*ck did I miss?” Husk asks, sensing the shift in Alastor’s mood.

“The snake was caught,” The radio demon chuckles, returning to his solid form, “but it seems the princess’ skills at recruiting people surpassed my expectations.”

The bartender sets everything he is carrying down, “Well I managed to get almost everything on your list, but would you believe that it’s harder to get f*cking books than it is to get those creepy doctors to hand over medical supplies?” When he had arrived in the southern district all Husk had to do was say he was on an errand from the radio demon and most of them were willing to hand over everything on Alastor’s list. “But I ain’t ever going down there again, somehow the place is even freakier than cannibal town…”

“I appreciate…I appreciate this Husker…” Alastor snaps his fingers and the pile of things disappears into a puff of smoke, off to the liminal space where he can store things.

Husk blinks in surprise at his boss’ almost genuine tone, “Yeah whatever, I mean I guess I don’t mind helping out whatever poor girl you’ve got locked up in the walls, I’m sure it’s not her fault she’s stuck with you.”

Alastor grits his teeth, but maintains a polite tone, “Well I best be off then, she has been waiting on me all day.”

“Hold on, I just have one question…” the bartender interrupts before the other can shadow himself away. “Sinners don’t get sick, not unless they do some dumb sh*t like drink themselves into a nightmare of a hangover. So… what the hell kind of person do you have hiding here? I can’t imagine a hellborn willingly consorting with one of the most dangerous sinners hell has ever seen.”

The overlord straightens his bowtie, “You do know curiosity killed the cat? Right Husker? I have given you all the information you need to perform your job effectively, so I strongly suggest you keep your whiskers out of my business.”

A strange bug with green tissue paper stuck to it scurries past the pair, and Alastor wordlessly crushes it beneath his cane without breaking eye contact with his servant…

Chapter 16

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

The next day arrives, and for the first time in a while Alastor doesn’t feel an immense amount of stress at the thought of leaving his wife on her own while he goes to attend his duties around the hotel. With Grace’s new IV set up she has a steady supply of fluids so that at least if she can’t keep her food down she can still stay hydrated.

Additionally, while Husker was in the medical district he learned that the psychopathic doctors also had packs that could be added to the saline to give her some basic nutrition, and like a good little kitty he had taken it upon himself to procure some of those as well. Although sinners can not starve to death given the nature of them being a dead soul already, occasionally the freaks on the south side of the pentagram are able to ‘obtain’ hellborn test subjects. The bartender was very disturbed to learn that some of the various ‘experiments’ performed on these subjects will involve things such as sewing their mouths shut, or removing their esophagus… or their digestive system entirely, and these nutrient packs were how the ‘doctors’ keep the subjects from starving to death right away.

He had relayed this information to Alastor while going over the supplies he brought back. The way the radio demon’s eyes lit up when he described this to him will haunt his nightmares for a while . His master had begun to press for more gorey details but ultimately decided it was more important to get these medical supplies back to Grace.

With the saline and nutrient packs, the couple feel more secure regarding the health of their unborn child. Though they both know that it’s not a permanent solution, as IV nutrition can only do so much, it is nice to know they have at least a few more weeks to sort out her physical state.

In addition to this medical set up, Grace finally has some books to keep herself occupied, although with how fast of a reader she is the small stack of tomes will only last her a few days at best. Luckily she is not above repeatedly rereading the same text, but Alastor will still have to keep an eye out for more reading materials if he wants to keep his wife occupied for the remainder of her pregnancy.

“All right my dear,” Alastor kisses Grace’s forehead and carefully tucks in her covers around her lap to ensure she stays comfortable today. “Once Niffty has completed her tasks around the hotel today she will be by to keep you company. But please try to stay in bed as much as you can, okay?” His right hand moves near her stomach, but does not quite touch it. “You need to conserve your energy…”

Grace nods, her phone is on her bedside table, “I will try Alastor.” She has a small, soft smile that makes her husband’s chest feel a bit warm. “Have a good day at work darling.”

The demon chuckles as her attempt at a doting housewife type tone. “Knowing that I get to come back here to you at the end of it will make dealing with some of the more insufferable parts of the job a lot more bearable…” He steps back, about to shadow himself away, but pauses, looking over her, there’s something sadly familiar about the sight of her like this. Stuck sitting in bed with a book open in her lap… and an IV attached to her arm. This wasn’t supposed to happen again, and yet here they are…

Six years and 9 months ago

A summoning sigil made of chalk and surrounded by bone upon linoleum began to spark with violet electricity, before being taken over by a bright green glow. The corner of the kitchen was overtaken by dark shadows, and from them arose the imposing figure of Alastor. His red coat flared like an intense wind was filling the room, and his eyes were closed to brace himself against the force of the magic that was pulling him into the realm of the living. To his chest he was clutching a paper wrapped bouquet.

Upon opening his eyes he discovered that the kitchen was not unoccupied. A clearly startled human male was sitting in the breakfast nook, a cup of coffee half to his lips, still clad only in his pajama shirt and boxers.

The man attempted to appear nonchalant, “Good morning Alastair…” but it was clear he had still not grown accustomed to his roommate’s demonic ‘friend’, not after only three months of weekly visits anyways.

“It’s Alastor,” the demon swiftly corrected as he stepped away from the sigil, careful not to disturb the arrangement of chalk and bone. “How is Grace faring today, Brian?”

“It’s one of her good days,” Brian sipped his coffee, averting his gaze from the visitor. He had been friends with Grace for so long that he had been aware of her resonance with hell, so he had really always expected that she would eventually do something insane like learning to summon an actual demon. Honestly since he knew it was impossible for the girl to sell her soul a second time, and so far Alastor had been genuinely helpful through this ordeal of hers, especially with the circ*mstances that had resulted in his initial successful summoning, Brian didn’t have a reason yet to be bothered by the overlord’s presence. After all, if he was going to slaughter them wouldn’t he have done so already? But it didn’t change the fact that it made the human rather uncomfortable to be in the presence of such an otherworldly being. Looking at him practically made his soul queasy. “So… the insurance company has been rather generous about Grace’s treatment plan, no copays on her visits and they are even covering some in-home health equipment for her. In all the years I’ve spent studying to be a nurse I’ve never seen an American insurance company be so generous… you have anything to do with that?”

The visitor chuckled and adjusted his bowtie with one hand, “Though it is difficult for us sinners to cross over, relatives of the living can often orchestrate contact. The CEO of Grace’s insurance company has a grandmother in hell, apparently she drowned one of her children when they were a baby. She was more than happy to help me… persuade her grandson to make some changes to his business practices.” He laughed even harder as he remembered the terrified look on the man’s face when he and the old lady’s soul appeared to him as ghostly apparitions.

“Some of the admin guys at work were gossiping about an insurance CEO announcing recently that he’s ‘found god’ and started instructing his employees to approve every claim…” Brian mused to himself, “but that’s probably only going to last until the company’s board ousts him.”

“So long as he stays in charge long enough for Grace to finish treatment then it will all be fine. Which reminds me. How did her appointment go yesterday?” Alastor glanced down the hall towards Grace’s bedroom, but part of him was still not ready to see her, at this point in time it was always a coin flip as to if she would look better or worse than the previous week.

“Doctor says that the tumor is responding well to chemo,” Brian scratched at his morning stubble, “Few more months and she should be right as rain.” He side eyed the demon, contemplating making a comment about how ‘then you won’t have to go to the trouble of dragging your ass up here all the time since you always complain about it being such a chore,’ but the wise man decided he likes his intestines on his insides and opted to instead ask, “so, what are the flowers for?”

Alastor looked down at the bouquet, almost as though he forgot he was holding it, “I thought Grace’s room could use something to brighten it up. It is Valentine’s Day after all so I thought she might appreciate something after the rough couple of months that she’s had.”

Brian sputtered on his coffee, and coughed while setting the mug down, “Did you say Valentine’s Day? That’s today?”

“Indeed, I mean I assume it’s still held on February 14th, yes?” Alastor’s unwavering smile turned to a bit of a twisted grin. “Why? Did you forget to get something for your special someone?”

“Yes!” The human man stood quickly, “f*ck my boyfriend is going to kill me for forgetting again!”

“Well if he does then do send a postcard from beyond the pearly gates,” The radio demon teased as he walked past the panicking man and strutted down the hall. He paused at a door decorated with wood painted carvings of orchids, lilacs, and woodland creatures. After taking a deep breath Alastor gently knocked, “Grace, are you decent?”

“Yes!” The girl’s voice was weak, but filled with enthusiasm. Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas as her demonic friend entered the room.

Grace was sitting in bed, her legs tucked under the covers to keep her warm. A saline IV is attached to her arm, though unlike the version that her future self is using, this one had a small morphine drip attached rather than nutritional add-ins. She had in her lap a book of short stories, and as he entered the room she paused the voice recording she was doing of herself narrating.

Alastor looked her over for a moment, finding it difficult to approach. Though she was not as visibly ill as he will one day witness, it was a depressing sight to see her so pale and tired, “How are you feeling today Grace?” He contemplated reminding her that she is supposed to be resting her voice rather than recording it, but he knows it won’t do any good.

“Pretty good, yesterday’s chemo session wasn’t too bad, I only threw up twice!” The girl paused at the way his eye twitched at that information, “Sorry, I guess you didn’t need to know that…” She cleared her throat and coughed a bit, gently placing her hand where the skin was red and tender. She smiled and tried to shift the subject as her eyes fell upon the flowers in his hand, “Are… those for me?”

“Indeed,” Alastor crossed the room, taking a chair that was against the wall and dragging it over to the bed so he could sit beside her. He had no problem standing, but had over the past few months learned that she was more comfortable and relaxed if he wasn’t towering over her. “It is rather difficult for flowers to grow healthily down there so you will have to forgive the state of them,” it was true that they were a little malformed and mutated but it was still clear they were meant to be…

“Orchids… you went to the trouble of finding me my favorite?” Grace’s voice shook a bit. Nobody ever got it right before, she had not received flowers often in her life, but the few times had always been red roses despite how much she detested the cliche. This bouquet of misshapen flowers mostly consisted of vibrantly red orchids, but was also accented with lovely purple hydrangeas and sprigs of fresh greenery to make the whole bouquet look full of life despite having come from the realm of the dead.

It hadn’t been easy sourcing the bouquet, especially when the radio demon was doing his best to stay under the radar, luckily dear Rosie was more than happy to help him assemble this ‘romantic’ gesture, her words, not his.

“Well of course, if I’m going to go to the trouble of getting you flowers then I’m going to make sure I get you something you like,” Alastor passed the bouquet to Grace so she could hold and admire it. “...You… do like it, right?” Perhaps it was too much, it might be too forward. Though they’ve been speaking for over two years at this point, they’ve only been able to see each other in person for the past three months. Maybe he should have started with one or two, she’s so overwhelmed with her health crisis right now that suddenly presenting her with…

The overlord’s mind had never run around in circles this way before he met this strange human woman. He had always been certain of every choice he made. And yet for the past year or so he had found himself questioning every other step he took around her.

“They are perfect,” Grace held the flowers tenderly, her green eyes soft as she gazed upon them. “It means so much to me that you would think of me on Valentine’s day.” One of her hands moved out and took one of his, squeezing it affectionately, before withdrawing.

Alastor looked down at his hand for a moment, surprised that he had not instinctively pulled back. In fact the touch felt rather… good.

He sat up straight, bracing himself for what he was about to ask of the girl. “Grace, I was wondering something…”

When she tilted her head to the side and said,” What is it Al?” He swallowed hard, but did not show any other weakness. He refused to act like a love sick puppy. After all what he was going to ask next was not because of something as paltry as feelings, no it was time to begin moving on to the next stage of the plan that he had started formulating as soon as they met. As soon as he had learned that there was a human who not only was powerful enough to make contact with the afterlife, but had wanted to use that power to talk to him. Who likely had much more power that he could take advantage of.

“When you are well again, I was wondering if you would do the honor of going on a date with me?”

Chapter 17

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Only another two days pass before Grace finishes the books that she was given. They covered a variety of topics, the most interesting being a botany tome. It covered the plant life of the lust ring, and apparently is part of a seven book set, each one covering a different layer of hell. On this particular morning she looks at Alastor with puppy dog eyes before he leaves.

“Will you keep an eye out for the rest of the set darling?” She asks as he sets up her IV for the day. “I know that it’s difficult to get books here in the pride ring since sinners are so prone to burning them… but…”

Her husband’s smile softens, “You don’t have to beg darling. I will talk to Rosie, she has an affinity for flowers so she may know where to find at least a couple of them.” It makes him happy to see her so enthusiastic about something, this brightness to her had been missing for so long. He wishes he didn’t have to tend to the hotel today, it feels like being trapped inside on the first sunny day after weeks of nothing but rain and clouds. The demon will certainly put effort into finding this botany book set, even if he is swamped with his current tasks, it will be worth it to see her so passionate about something again.

Supposedly in the pride ring’s other major city, IMP city, sinners and hellborn live in… well not necessarily harmony, but they are able to go more than a day without any major mass murder events. It would be a long trip that he doesn’t have the time to make himself, but if he calls in a favor or two then he may be able to send somebody to go inquire about the tomes.

“When I get back tonight,” Alastor steps back, “I would love to hear all about what you’ve learned from that book.”

Grace smiles, “Have a good day at work today my love,” and blows him a kiss.

The overlord catches the imaginary kiss and holds it to his lips, “And you have a lovely day as well my sweet,” then bows and sinks into the shadows.

When he arrives in the hotel lobby a few minutes later he discovers that Angeldust is currently pacing a hole in the rug, throwing his arms up in the air to grumble and shout about how the stash in his wardrobe went missing. Both Charlie and Vaggie have denied responsibility for the missing drugs.

Niffty has also just arrived in the room, she has a feather duster in hand and quickly darts around to dust the different pieces of furniture, singing her cheery little cleaning mantra.

Angel pauses his pacing and looks at the maid, realization striking him. “Hey Nif, when you were cleaning my room did you find a baggie of white stuff?”

The cyclops doesn’t stop her cleaning, but just responds without even looking at the spider, “Yeah I gave it to the lady in the wall!”

Alastor’s bones crack as he twists his head to stare down Niffty. Grace had told him about how when the little one brought her snacks the other day she had mistakenly also brought her booze and drugs. But once again Niffty is proving that she does not think about a single word before it comes out of her mouth.

“Hold on, the who now?” Angel pauses, recalling that this isn’t the first time Niffty had mentioned this mysterious lady.

Husker quickly clears his throat and interjects on the conversation. “I found some weird f*cking alter near one of the mouse holes in the wall yesterday, this old ass building makes all sorts of weird noises so I think she thinks there’s some being in the walls of the hotel and is worshipping it or some f*cking sh*t…”

Alastor practically holds his breath as the p*rnstar runs this over in his mind. The radio demon is side eyeing the maid, pushing her to play along, but the girl seems to have not even realized the conversation has continued on without her, as she is already back to dusting.

“Yeah that sounds about right,” Angel shrugs. Honestly it made more sense than there being an actual lady in the walls anyways.

Suddenly Charlie bursts into the lobby from one of the side hallways, “Alright everybody! Today’s activity is group cooking!”

Some memories flash across Alastor’s mind. He realizes suddenly how much he misses his wife’s cooking…

The violet crackling and green glow returned to the summoning circle in Grace and Brian’s kitchen a week after Valentine’s day. The weekly visit was practically a ritual in its own right by this point. This time it was Alastor who was surprised upon his arrival. As he rose from the gaping hole to hell he froze upon seeing Grace at the counter, she was deftly using a knife to butcher some kind of small animal. The stove nearby had a large… oh that’s the cauldron Brian bought her as a joke last Christmas, though rather than any kind of potion brewing there was a delicious smell of some kind of soup filling the kitchen.

Upon the round kitchen table was a vase filled with the flowers he brought the previous week. Surprisingly they seemed to be thriving under Grace’s care.

“I see you are feeling better today,” Alastor stood on the side of the kitchen opposite her, twisting his cane in both hands. “Should you be using a knife when you are on prescription pain killers though?”

Grace chuckled slightly, but did not allow her guest to interrupt her work, “I was feeling pretty good this morning, so I’m putting the dose off till I really need it so I can get some things done.” She glanced back over her shoulder for a moment, “You know you never did explain how you fixed the summoning problem… and made it so you can come and go freely.”

“Well, not freely,” Alastor wrinkled his nose, thinking about the cost of this… travel pass he was using. “Only when you are in the house.”

“Right, right,” there was a crunch of bones as the woman spread out the ribcage of the carcass so she can cut away chunks more easily, the radio demon felt a shiver of thrill at the horrific noise, “But like, we were having so much trouble getting you through, almost a year of trying to figure out why the spell wouldn’t work and now all of a sudden you can come through without me having to even chant the thing?”

The overlord pondered for a moment how much he wished to reveal to the human regarding the situation that resulted in this ability, and ultimately decided that he could garner a bit more of her trust by sharing at least some of the details, “Simply put, it turned out that the magical barrier in the pride ring does not only prevent the sinners from traveling to the other areas of hell, but also prevents us from entering the human realm unless extreme circ*mstances are met.”

Grace nodded, “That makes sense, when sinners go to hell it is meant as a punishment. A jail doesn’t let its prisoners come and go as they please.”

“Exactly,” Alastor was always impressed by how fast she caught onto things, it made conversing with her far easier and more enjoyable than with most pathetic people he tried to talk to, “Well, there are many levels to the hierarchy of hell, and while I may be high up there as an overlord, there are still many who are considered… above me.” His eye twitched at admitting that. He hated not being at the top of the pyramid, but currently there was nothing he could do about it, though hopefully this interesting human with her strange level of power may aid in turning those tables soon… “I ended up learning that those higher up can grant sinners the ability to bypass the barrier and enter the living world without something as serious as a virgin sacrifice.”

As the demon talked Grace continued nodding along with the occasional “Mhm… mhm.” She was listening of course, but her focus was on her knife work rather than forming full responses. She knew that he didn’t like being interrupted anyways.

“Such a being can become a ‘patron’ to a sinner and give them permission to come to the surface. I found one who I was able to strike a small deal with to allow me to come and see you as much as I wish,” Alastor examined his hand as he tried not to think about the shake that bound his soul to a higher being, “But of course I have to… ‘behave’ myself up here. If I cause trouble then they will get in trouble, and well… revoking my traveling ability is the least that a patron can do to punish a sinner.”

“Oh so it’s like having a parole officer?” The human asked, “You have to follow the rules of your parole and keep curfews?” She laughed a bit, “well I guess that means I don’t have to worry about you going on some kind of murder spree if you come through while I’m asleep or something.”

Alastor responded with his own chuckle, “Don’t worry Grace, as much as I miss the feeling of somebody’s lifeblood spilling out under my knife, I wouldn’t squander my opportunity to spend time with you.”

“Good to know I matter more to you than the satisfaction of the kill,” she teased, then paused, allowing an awkward silence to fill the room as she recalled the way his last visit went. After a minute she took a deep breath and looked over to where he was still standing on the other side of the room. “What are you still doing over there, it’s hard to talk with you that far away you know?”

The radio demon hesitated for a moment, then quickly crossed the room with long strides, shoes clicking on the linoleum. He came up behind her and peered over her shoulder

He licked his lips, “And what do we have here?”

“The old guy down the road likes to do hunting and trapping in his free time,” she sensed her demonic friend flinching, but did not call him out on it. “He ended up with a bunch of extra because his daughter has gone vegan and is making her husband and kids convert with her, so he gave me some of the stuff he would usually give her.” She used her knife to gesture to the ‘pot’ on the stove, “I thought since quails are birds that I would see if they would make good stock.” She had by this point already broken down the animal on her cutting board, and was in the process of getting the meat off the bone, “And I decided I’m going to grind up the rabbit meat and make meatballs. Not a traditional use for either I know but some days I’m so tired I can barely chew, you know? Plus I can pack up and freeze both pretty easily.”

Alastor stood there listening, somewhat impressed at her creativity in attempting to turn the animals into something that she can consume more easily in her condition, “Is there anything I can do to assist?” He asked while reaching around her to pick up a sliver of the raw rabbit meat, popping it into his mouth like the tasty snack it is.

“Actually, could you keep an eye on the stock for me?” She motioned to the simmering cauldron, “I can’t move fast enough if it decides to bubble over…”

“Of course,” the demon took a few steps over to the stove, and peered at the boiling liquid. Up close he could really take in how delicious it smelled. Despite his propensity for consuming raw meats of…varying origin, he could still appreciate well cooked food. “Perhaps I ought to share some of my mother’s recipes with you, you do have quite the talent for cooking, I believe you could honor her well with them.” For a moment his gaze focused on his little human friend, and his mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. Her brunette hair tied back, bent over the cutting board with a focused face and fast moving hands… though she did not carry much resemblance to the woman, for just a split second the man swore he saw his mother standing before him. But the illusion passed as quickly as it had formed.

Grace didn’t respond at first, which was strange to Alastor as he hadn’t thought he said anything unusual, but he understood where he misstepped when her soft voice said, “Sharing the family recipes is usually something a man does when he is in a close relationship with a woman, isn’t it?”

Alastor cleared his throat, she had a point, “You… never did give me an answer last week.”

Grace sighed, and set her knife down on the cutting board, and after taking a few deep breaths she replied, “I told you, I need to think about it, okay?”

“It’s already been a week, how long does it take to…” the overlord sighed as well, “You can say no if you want, I won’t bite your head off if you do. I’m mature enough to handle rejection.” Honestly that would be debatable, he’d be quite frustrated if she rejected him, but he could always rework his plan, courting her would just make it so much easier to get him on the path to his ultimate goal.

“The thing is Alastor,” Grace turned to face him, putting a hand on her hip, “I want to say yes.” She held up a hand to signal for him not to respond, she’s not done talking. “But I’m not a fool, I want to approach this cautiously, be smart, and really think about it before agreeing to do something romantic like a date with a powerful demon.” She held up the palm of her right hand, showing the purple swirling scar on it. “Remember… I’ve made a deal with a demon before… I didn’t fully understand the ramifications of what I was doing, and with what it cost me I… I just don’t want to rush into something else with yet another supernatural entity.”

Alastor seemed as though he was about to respond to her little speech, but was quickly distracted by the cauldron bubbling and frothing rapidly, he turned to quickly reduce the heat and stir the stock. Both of them silently focused on their cooking tasks, allowing them some time alone with their thoughts.

Grace was thinking about how crazy she feels for wanting to enthusiastically say yes. What kind of person was she that she yearned so deeply for somebody who had committed horrific atrocities? Somebody who was no longer even human.

Meanwhile Alastor was contemplating how odd her response made him feel. Normally when somebody didn’t agree to what he wanted he would find them to be irritating, an obstacle to his goals. Yet she was clearly intelligent, and was actually calculating for the sake of her own well being rather than jumping in headfirst like many other humans do when faced with somebody who they want despite them being a less than… safe option. He could tell she was letting her mind guide her heart, rather than the other way around. And for some reason that was causing him to feel an inkling of desire for her beyond just seeking a tool to manipulate.

Chapter 18

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Another three days pass rather uneventfully. Grace’s morning sickness still ravages her with more than half of her meals, but through the IV hydration and nutrition she is able to avoid withering away completely.

On this particular afternoon when Niffty comes to the room, she discovers that the woman is not in her bed. The IV stand is nearby, the tubes hanging unattached to anything. She does not fret though, instead she quickly goes to the bathroom and pokes her head in.

“Gracie, are you okay?” The cyclops had taken to calling her by the nickname she heard Alastor using, since it was the only way she had heard the name be said anyways.

Grace groans, she is laying on the cool bathroom floor, half curled up and breathing hard after another round of vomiting. Her left arm is bleeding where the IV line was ripped out in her hurry to reach the toilet before her lunch came up.

“Hmmm…” the maid enters the room, first going over to the toilet and flushing it since it seemed that the human had not had the energy to do so herself. Then she kneels beside the much larger person and pats her head. “Don’t you worry, Nurse Niffty is here to take care of you!”

The woman smiles weakly, appreciating the comfort of the demon’s hand on her head, even with how strangely shaped that hand is.

Nif takes a very small handkerchief out of her pocket and dabs Grace’s chin with it, “But you can’t stay on the floor, it’s so very dirty down here.” She looks around, an instinctive urge to clean obsessively taking over, but it can wait.

Reluctantly, the woman gets to her feet, very slowly. The tiny demon tries to assist by pulling on her hand, but even if she has the strength she doesn’t quite have the height to offer much help. Grace has to support herself with the edge of the bathtub with one hand as she stands, groaning and holding her stomach with the other.

“I thought Alastor got you medicine to make you feel better?” Niffty takes the hem of the woman’s nightgown and starts guiding her out of the bathroom.

Grace wishes she could explain at least a little bit, but without Alastor present she doesn’t have a voice. Actually now that she thinks about it she isn’t sure where her phone ended up after her scramble to the bathroom. Her steps are slow as she scans the floor, confused when she doesn’t see the device.

Luckily Niffty seems to have picked up on what is going on, and as soon as she has helped Grace to the edge of the bed she goes into search mode. She darts around the room, looking under the bedside table, then the dining table, she even gets under the bed, but only finds a new crop of dust bunnies. It’s incredible how despite this room being one of the newest, nicest, and therefore cleanest in the hotel, the little balls of lint and fuzz still seem to crop up at the same abnormally high rate as they do throughout the rest of the building.

‘mreow~’

Both girls freeze and slowly look up to the top of the wardrobe. Laying on it is the adorable yet mischievous Keekee. Her little paws are tapping the screen of Grace’s phone, enjoying the pretty lights and colors, though how she got the device up there is… not a mystery really. She’s not just a cat, she’s a demonic entity, carrying around small objects is probably child’s play to her.

The human makes a strange noise like she’s trying to shout as she stands quickly, but stumbles and falls to her knees.

“No KeeKee!” Niffty scurries to the wardrobe and starts to scale it, “Bad kitty! That’s not yours!” She swats at the feline with her feather duster, till the cat hisses and scampers off, disappearing down the secret tunnel. The maid grabs the phone and descends once more. “There we goooo...” She stares at the currently open photo; a selfie shot Grace had taken, she appears to be lying in bed, a figure that the camera is struggling to capture is lying beside her, their head resting against her.

Grace makes another vocaless noise as she crawls across the floor to Niffty, snatching the device from her quickly.

“Was that Alastor?” Niffty asks, despite honestly knowing the answer.

The woman hesitates, holding the device protectively to her chest, then looks at the screen. After a few moments of silence she sighs, then nods.

The cyclops once again helps her get back to the bed. “You two are very cute together. Very cute. I mean it’s hard to tell since Alastor hates having his picture taken, but he let you take his picture at all so that's so-so sweet that he likes you that much.”

Grace crawls into bed again, sitting back against the pillows, and allows Niffty to clean up her bleeding arm and reinsert the IV. She bites her lower lip, then taps out a message.

-i can show u sumthing if u promsie not to tell Al-

She is of course unaware that Niffty is a terrible secret keeper, so when the little demon nods excitedly she takes it at face value. The woman makes room so the other can sit near her on the covers. She navigates the phone in a way that allows her to open the picture in some kind of photo editing app. After a minute of fiddling around with some filters and saturation levels, Alastor is slowly, properly revealed in. His appearance is still not quite in focus, but it’s clearly him.

In the photo his eyes were closed as he rested his weary head on Grace’s chest. Even in his sleep his lips are still locked into a smile, but it is softer. His arms are wrapped around her, and the woman recalls the way his fuzzy ears were tickling the underside of her chin. The photo is actually rather recent, so recent in fact that the bed covers in the picture are not the ones from her home, they are the bright red of the Hazbin color scheme. She had taken it just the other morning, when she had awoken before he did, a rare occasion.

Niffty clasps her hands together, “Aww, he’s so sleepy!” She smiles at the human, “I’ve never seen him be affectionate to… anybody, and he usually hates to be touched so much. I’m usually the only one who can touch him without him being bothered. He must love you so-so-so-so-so much if he’s holding you like that.”

Grace’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. So much of her relationship she often doubted how much Alastor cared for her. Although she desperately wanted to believe his feelings for her are as deep as hers are for him, it was difficult to see at times. Hearing somebody else confirm that his behavior towards her is special… it gives her some reassurance.

On the other side of the hotel Alastor shudders suddenly, as though he’s just been perceived in a way he typically disdains. He rolls his eyes, Grace thinks he doesn’t know about her little photo trick, but he does. He allows her to think that she has a little secret. Because if she knew that she is the only one he is comfortable with letting him be seen in photographs, then she would want to take his picture all the time.

Once the uncomfortable sensation has passed, Alastor looks around the lobby. Honestly this hotel needs more communal spaces. Nice hotels have ballrooms and restaurants, indoor pools and gyms, it seems like almost everything that happens here happens in this lobby. The radio demon watches as Angeldust plays with his dear Fat Nugget nearby, and Sir Pentious stands at the top of the stairs giving orders to his little egg minions.

As one of the eggs runs by the overlord, he puts his cane down in front of it, stopping it in its path. “Tell me little egg thing,” He bends down so his face is almost to the floor yet still just above the strange creature. “Are you edible?”

“Uhhhh, I dunno,” The egg looks up the stairs at Sir Pentious, “Hey boss! Are we ebidible?”

“I mean technically,” the snake demon says, “why do you ask?” He looks over and sees Alastor, “Oh…You there, sss-tay away from my egg boys, I need them to do my evil bidding sss-o you can’t be going and eating them!”

Angel looks up from the couch, and sees that now the overlord is looking at his dear pet. “Stay the f*ck away from Fat Nuggets too,” he holds the piggy close to his chest.

Alastor rolls his eyes and leans back on the bar counter. They will be out of food for Grace soon, even if the IV nutrition keeps her stable for the time being, she still needs to be trying to eat. Perhaps one day when their respective ‘parents’ aren’t paying attention he can catch and cook up a lovely bacon and egg breakfast for his wife.

This time the kitchen was empty when Alastor arrived. The lights were out and if he didn’t know any better he would think that nobody was home. It had been a few months since the day Grace had been cooking up the rabbits and quail. He still maintained his routine of weekly visits, even if things were a bit more tense between them. Part of him had begun to regret asking her about going on a date, he hadn’t expected her to jump at the opportunity of course, but he certainly never expected her to take this long to give him an actual answer.

He wandered around the house for a bit, looking at the photos hanging on the walls of the hallways and living room. Most of them were of Brian and his loved ones, a few of them he was with Grace. But the girl herself scarcely appeared, and when she was not with the human male, she was alone. Not a single family photo, though he knew that she had no living relatives, she had not yet filled him in on the details of what happened. The lack of any pictures of them indicates to him that either they died when she was very young, or whatever happened was so traumatic that she can not bear to look at them. Once he nearly asked her about them, after all, of course he would be curious about the people who spawned a human with her abilities and then allowed her to make a demon deal at the tender age of six years old.

Eventually he made his way to her room, the door had a new painted wood carving on it. He knew that she purchased the carvings from a local craft store, but painted them herself. This one was of a little deer, much in the style of that one traumatizing Disney movie, but she had painted it crimson with black spots. He couldn’t help widening his smile at it, feeling just a bit of a softness in his chest.

He was about to knock on the door, but his knuckles hesitated just an inch away as a soft melodic voice wafted from behind it. Though muffled through the door it was still such a sweet sound.

“~Come dance with me~ When the night has fallen come and~ dance with me~ when you’re feeling blue and lost come dance with me~ oh dance with me~ until the stars burn out we shall spin across the sky~ until there’s nothing left but you and I~ oh dance with me~ and we shall see the… something something~… something dance dance~”

The song trailed off, and Alastor waited a minute before knocking so that she would not suspect he heard her. “Grace? Are you decent?”

“Huh? No, no actually hold on I just got out of the shower.” Her voice came through. He could hear the sound of her dresser drawers being opened and the rustling of fabrics. After a bit she called out again, “Alright you can come in!”

When the overlord entered the room, the human was shoving some papers into her writing desk, which was odd as she usually preferred to take all her notes digitally, but he left the matter be.

“Hey, sorry I was starting to think you might not come by tonight so I started getting ready for bed,” she took a seat in her desk chair, a little out of breath from rushing around so suddenly.

“My apologies, I got held up with something,” Alastor snapped his fingers, summoning another chair so that he could sit across from her. “How was your day?”

She smiled, “It was good actually, I got my latest scans done.” She gently rubbed her throat, “Doc says the tumor is almost completely gone, I should only need to be on the chemo for a few more weeks.”

Alastor chuckled, “Don’t you feel foolish now for overreacting so badly when you got the diagnosis? It’s not even been a year and you’re already almost over with this illness.”

Grace’s face darkened, and she looked away, her mind returning to that fateful night that Alastor first successfully stepped through the summoning circle. She was unconscious when he and Brian found her, and to this day she can not even begin to imagine how they felt finding her in that state. What the radio demon didn’t know at the time was that it was not just her recent diagnosis that had driven her into such a deep depressive spiral.

“Perhaps that was in poor taste,” Alastor admitted, picking at the sleeves of his coat.

“Hey Al…” Grace was still staring off into the distance, “Were you… being serious when you asked me about going on a date when I’m well again?”

“Indeed, I’m not in the habit of leading women on and asking them something like that frivolously,” the demon leant back in his seat.

The woman nodded, “I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to give you an answer. I’ve just been stuck running circles about it in my head. Like I said before I… want to be careful before I agree to something like that with a demon, especially one as powerful as you.”

“Believe me Grace, I completely understand,” he looked to her hands folded in her lap, “You have a history dealing with people like me, of course you would want to be careful.” He paused, thinking, then spoke again. “I’m unsure if it matters, but I would like to remind you that my method of killing did not involve me luring women on dates, in fact I refrained from killing women. So if you are concerned that I’m trying to relive my glory days…”

She chuckled, “Don’t worry Alastor it’s not that. Remember I am very familiar with your history as a serial killer.” The girl crossed one leg over the other, one hand playing with a damp lock of hair. “Sometimes I worry about how little it bothers me that you’ve killed people, that you still kill other demons down in hell. I mean I’m not like those women who froth at the mouth wanting to f*ck serial killers, I’m not attracted to the fact that you’re a killer, I just… don’t care…” She still wasn’t making eye contact, her green eyes were dull, lost. “And I know that means there’s something wrong with me, it should bother me…”

“I mean I told you why I killed. You know that my victims… deserved it, did they not?” Alastor smirked, but that faded when he saw it didn’t seem to bring her any comfort. “If my history does not bother you, then why does it seem as though it is holding you back from accepting my proposal for a date?”

Her smile was melancholic, like a renaissance painting of a young woman faced with the burdens of existence, “Because I am not under the delusion that I am special. I know that I am not some magical incredible perfect special woman who can melt the heart of a psychopath, this isn’t a fairy tale, so… obviously you have some kind of ulterior motive.” She squeezed her right hand into a fist. “It’s my power, isn’t it? Neither of us understand it but… you want it, in some capacity. You can not take it through a soul deal, not unless we break my current contract but… you seek to gain my trust… my affection… my love. You seek them so that one day I might willingly give you my power in whatever capacity I am capable of…”

The room went dead silent. Alastor sat there, eyes wide, smile… gone.

He felt stripped, naked and bare before a violet spotlight. She saw through him, to his bones, his core, his rotted soul. Never in his life had anybody peeled him away so easily. He should be angry, furious, defensive. He should stand and intimidate her. He should leave. Do anything but just sit here, paralyzed before the radiance that is this strange and brilliant woman.

And in that moment he knew that she was wrong about one thing in her little speech. She is special. Special in a way that changed the very fabric of the world and people around her. Special in a way that would make some people cringe and complain about bad writing skills. But she was not melting his heart, no she was unknowingly ripping it open and nestling herself deep in its wires, becoming a part of the mechanism that sat in his chest in place of a muscle.

Though she could not hear it, his radio heart softly began to play a melody that he could feel radiating all the way to his fingers and toes, ~oh dance with me~

Chapter 19

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

‘What a delicious meal!’ Alastor thinks to himself as he hums and cuts into his breakfast. The atmosphere of his mini indoor swamp is the perfect place for eating rotting deer carcasses. It’s warm and humid, the flies swarm around his table, sharing in this meal with him while also adding to its flavor. Now as much as he enjoys having breakfast alongside his beautiful wife, she could never stomach being around the raw, spoiled venison, and that’s not just a pregnancy thing. Of course he respects that, just like she respects his desire to eat such things, so long as he brushes his teeth before he kisses her later. Anyways, such a delicacy is something he prefers to eat on his own anyways, truly savor the texture and flavors without being distracted by the presence of another person.

Briefly his mind wanders, wondering if his child’s food preferences will align more with his or Grace’s. It might not be so bad to teach a small boy how to properly store the deer so that it ferments into a lovely flavor, or teach a little girl the proper silverware etiquette for eating large pieces of meat. He might not be opposed to cutting it into bite sized pieces like his mother used to for him. A little smiling face at the dinner table with him could be…

His fork freezes halfway to his mouth as he suddenly realizes what he’s thinking about. He tries to think about how children have no table manners and are always throwing food and making a mess and absolutely awful to dine alongside. Tries to think of anything to stamp out this uncomfortable fuzzy feeling in his stomach that is quite ruining his appetite.

“ALASTOR” Vaggie’s arrival is almost perfectly timed to snap him out of this thought process he’s found himself trapped in. Normally Alastor would find himself rather displeased that he can’t seem to have one moment to himself, but in this case he’s just… grateful to have been freed of the impending existential crisis.

The radio demon glances at his meal, then back at the girl.“Do you mind? I’m in the middle of breakfast” He says this with a dramatic tone, there’s no need for her to know that her interruption had been helpful.

“Pentious’ eggs are all over the place and I need you to get rid of them.” The cluster of sentient eggs seem completely oblivious to what is going on around them.

Alastor’s smirk grows extra wide. Perhaps Grace’s food shortage issue is about to be delayed a bit longer. Each one of the little egg boys is certainly full of vitamins and nutrients, and perhaps the little bit of demonic energy that brought them to life will be enough to satiate the growing half-demon fetus enough to stop the woman from immediately throwing the food back up. If the others are looking to get rid of these little eggy pests then they certainly won’t notice that they’ve been consumed.

“Oh well in that case I’d be delighted to!” The overlord eagerly stands and summons his cane, approaching the doorway. He’s already thinking of ways to serve them up, fried, poached, maybe turn one of them into a giant deviled egg. He can’t help chuckling to himself at the irony of the last one.

“Humanley!” Vaggie’s no nonsense tone was grating on Alastor’s twitching ears.

The demand was of course a disappointment to the demon, he was looking forward to tasting the little creatures innards,“Hm, well, that’s a lot less fun.” If he’s getting rid of them then still they won’t know what happened to the eggs, perhaps if he is discreet he can still harvest them for his wife’s nutrition needs, at the very least one or two. “But I suppose I can take care of that on my outing today.”

Alastor uses his cane to guide the little creatures along down the hall. He hears Vaggie complain about his breakfast being ‘disgusting’ and it brings a little chuckle out of him. He doesn’t mind leaving the deer out till he gets back, after all it will only accrue a better depth of flavor as it decomposes further, so it will be even more delicious when he returns.

The overlord heads towards the hotel entrance, a trail of egg boys following close behind. As he reaches the lobby he swings by the bar, tapping his cane on the counter to get the barkeeper’s attention.

“Husker,” he says, “I will be heading out to take care of some errands today. I’m not sure when I will be back but it likely will not be until this evening. Inform Niffty that her priority today is taking care of our ‘special’ guest. Understood?” The cat demon rolls his eyes in acknowledgement, but that’s not enough for Alastor. The radio demon clears his throat, laying the radio filter on extra heavy, to the point that when he speaks it creates almost a growing effect without him actually rumbling his voice. “Understood?”

“f*ck, yeah I understand,” Husk flinches away. He was starting to regret pushing his boss to let him in on the secret. He seemed way more impatient than usual when it came to matters regarding the woman he’s hiding away in the walls.

Alastor’s voice immediately shifts back to an overly perky tone, “Good! I will be seeing you later!” The egg boys seem oblivious to the interaction that just occurred way above their heads, and just dutifully follow the tall red demon out of the hotel.

A few floors up Grace rolls over in bed, still half asleep and unaware that her husband has completely left the building. But this motion ends up catapulting her into consciousness as she awkwardly puts pressure on her left breast. She gasps, and mouths something along the lines ‘jesus motherf*cking christ,’ before flopping onto her back. There is no sound though, which is her first clue that Alastor is not in the room with her, but she’s still a touch too groggy to process that. She spends a few minutes massaging the cramp out of her breast, it is still strange getting accustomed to how tender and swollen they’ve become in the couple months.

Without any windows it is rather difficult for her to tell what time it is. She feels as though she’s slept in, but for all she knows it could still be the middle of the night. Though if that was the case then where is Alastor? The woman sighs, then silently laughs to herself, realizing that in her sleepiness she had forgotten something. She’s in hell. Even if there were windows in this room, it would likely be impossible to be certain if it’s morning, afternoon, or night. From what little she’s seen of the outside world, she’s determined that this place does seem to have it’s own day night cycle, but there is no sun that rises to signal the start of day, and though the sky darkens at night it is not quite the same level of darkness that blankets the nighttime upon Earth. Briefly she wonders how anybody sleeps down here with such an annoying amount of illumination from the sky, especially when combined with the bright glow of the city itself. During their little date night in Alastor’s radio tower she had observed how bright the lights and neon signs of the area were, and that the heavenly monstrosity of an embassy and hourglass was just a beacon of ‘don’t sleep don’t sleep don’t sleep’ radiance. And while it was beautiful in its own way, her little rural heart would never be able to handle it being so damn bright every time she went out at night.

As she continues to lay in bed, Grace briefly recalls the time she took a trip to New York City. Before going she had looked up why it’s called ‘the city that never sleeps’, and the two answers she found were that it was,in part, because of a song sung by Frank Sinatra, but also it was due to the fact that the city has a 24-hour subway system. Yet when she arrived she felt that the name more aptly described the lights. Buildings that reached up to touch the heavens and were always gleaming. Certainly she had not been the first to attribute the nickname to these lights rather than the subway system, and would not be the last. But she’ll never forget how she got next to no sleep for the whole week she was in town because her hotel room’s window faced a giant sign for a bank building, and the curtains were nowhere near thick enough to…

She suddenly realizes that maybe she doesn’t mind this hotel room being windowless as much as she thought she did.

The woman continues to lie in bed, she really doesn’t want to get up. The mattress is surprisingly soft, and the blankets are the nice level of warmth that only happens when you’ve been laying in it for hours. She knows that the moment she gets up she will never get to be this comfortable again, or at least not until tomorrow morning when she experiences the same thing. Grace knows that once she gets on her feet her ankles will start hurting. As soon as she starts looking for food her nausea will return. And when she gets out from under these blankets she will be cold.

After a few more minutes of lying there she sighs and finally throws off the covers, shivering despite the room being rather warm. One of her hands moves down to the small curve of her baby bump as she looks down at herself. Despite her struggles with nutrition, the bump has been growing considerably faster than expected. Grace hadn’t really had a way to determine exactly how far along she was when she discovered her pregnancy, and because they brought her down to hell within weeks of her positive test, the opportunity to schedule a doctor’s appointment to figure it out was something they just didn’t have time for. The couple had discussed the concern that a half demon pregnancy may be gestating faster. But ultimately they decided that it’s more likely it’s because her frame is so small after the years of illness, and as a result her belly is going to be more prominent more quickly. It’s still at a level that if she needs to she can conceal it with a very loose blouse, which has been a great way to ease her husband’s general discomfort, he doesn’t have to think so much about the fact that there is a baby growing in her if he doesn’t have to see the bump. But it’s not going to be long before he will have to face the evidence of his planted seed every time he looks at her.

Grace sits up and swings her legs off the bed, wincing at the shooting pain in her ankles as she puts weight on them. Slowly she crosses the room to the mini-fridge, one hand still resting on her stomach. She opens the door and sits on the floor in front of it, debating what to try eating since Alastor isn’t there to make her breakfast. As she contemplates her decision she rubs small circles on her belly, mouthing silently, trying to talk to her baby. ‘What are you feeling up to kiddo? What are you going to let me keep down?’ She fights back tears as the room remains silent despite her efforts to speak.

Her mind wanders a bit, and she wonders what her half-demon child will like to eat once it is born. Will it breastfeed? Her swelling breasts certainly indicate that her body thinks that will be necessary. But what if that’s just the natural response to the pregnancy hormones, and the newborn will come out of her womb craving rotting meat. Grace gags as she thinks about her husband’s enjoyment of certain very… non human safe dishes. Will she have to learn to stomach the smell of rotting meat if she wants to sit down and enjoy a meal with her family. Of course Alastor does enjoy regular food as well, they spent so much time cooking together because he loved a good home cooked meal. But that’s because he used to be alive, right? A holdover from his time as a living person?

The reason that it was truly a shock that Grace fell pregnant is not because Alastor is a demon. It’s because years ago her doctor confirmed the chemotherapy and radiation treatments had effectively killed her uterus, she hadn’t had a menstrual cycle in a very long time, hence the inability to use a ‘most recent period’ to determine how long it had been since she conceived. But the more all of it sat in her mind, the more it made sense. Alastor isn’t a hellborn demon, he’s a sinner, a dead man. So while there could certainly be other explanations for how this situation befell them, this is the one that made the most sense to her; her dead womb was the perfect garden for a dead man’s seed.

So Grace has to ask herself; does that make her child a living soul? Or a dead one? Will it enjoy the things that make life wonderful if it was never ‘alive’ to begin with? How would she bond with such a child? If it does not eat human food how will she cook for it? What if it does not like to be held because it does not have the human need to feel the warmth of another against its skin? If it never has a heartbeat then how will it know it has a heart?

The girl’s lower lip trembles, and her face drops into her hands as tears stream down her cheeks. Her throat squeaks as she tries desperately to sob. How can she bond with her child if she can’t even sing them to sleep at night? How will she comfort them if she can only speak when her husband is present? Will that half working voice even be able to soothe her child when Alastor is there for her to be able to speak? Whether the child is a living being or a dead soul, neither will matter in the end, because what kind of mother will she be if she can not tell her baby how much she loves them whenever they need to hear it?

Chapter 20

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

So far Charlie’s attempts at trust building exercises have not been going very well. She really wants to celebrate Sir Pentious having made it a full week at the hotel, but it’s difficult with him being so suspicious and distrusting of all the others. It’s not really a surprise that the trust fall exercises aren’t working, but she isn’t sure where they can go from her. Niffty continues to run up on stage and jump off well past her turn.

Angeldust comes up to Charlie and Vaggie as they discuss how to continue, “If you’re in the market for some ideas,” his smirk should relay that he doesn’t exactly have the best intent, obviously still not taking this whole thing seriously, “I’ve got just the thing for some trust building.”

“Ugh…what do you have in mind,” Vaggie grumbles.

“It’s a surprise! Trust me,”Angel replies, and guides the girls back over to the group, “Alright everybody, the next trust building exercise is going to take us on a field trip!”

Husker freezes, his eyes traveling upwards, “Wait, are you talking about going somewhere? Like leaving the hotel?” He is thinking about how leaving would mean that Alastor’s guest will be unattended, and he doesn’t want to face the radio demon’s wrath if he were to find out they abandoned their post.

“Uh, duh, that’s obviously what I meant,” Angel rolls his eyes, “Come on we never get to go anywhere. A field trip would be so much fun and a great way to bond~” He looks over at Charlie for that last part, trying to play on her desperate desire to see everybody get along.

Niffty is still repeatedly face planting into the ground, seemingly unfazed by the cracking sound her skull makes against the floor each time.

The cat demon takes a few steps back, “Well you guys have fun, but I’m going to stick around here. I’m not really in the f*cking mood to go out today.”

“Sorry Husker but you gotta come with us,” the princess says, “If we’re going to be building trust amongst the group then the whole group kind of needs to be present you know.”

“I mean it’s not like you can f*cking make me,” Husker responds, crossing his arms.

Niffty jumps from the platform again, and when she comes crashing down she doesn’t get up again. She’s breathing, but just laying on the floor, listening to the group, despite her brain being a little jumbled she is still able to pick up on the problem that may be about to arise. Husk discreetly shuffles over to her and nudges her with his foot, when she locks eyes with him he tries to silently communicate what he wants the maid to do.

“Actually I can,” Charlie looks a bit nervous trying to assert authority, “Alastor told me that when he isn’t around you and Niffty have to do everything I say because it’s my hotel and he brought you here to work for me.”

Husk knows that this is bullsh*t. Even if Alastor implied that to Charlie, he would never fully give his control of him over to somebody else. She doesn’t hold the leash, and therefore can not compel him to do anything. And if the little princess complains to the radio demon when he gets back, then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting in trouble since he’s just following his boss's orders to make sure the secret guest is safe in his absence.

Before Husker can argue again Vaggie snaps, “I will drag you along if I have to. We don’t have much time to prove the hotel works, so we ALL need to be working on these trust building skills.”

“You sure leaving the hotel unattended would be a good idea?” Husker slightly spreads his wings to conceal Niffty getting up and scurrying away. “I mean Al ain’t here so if some f*ck face comes by to screw with things there would be nobody to protect it.”

“Well aside from Sir Pentious we really haven’t had an issue with people attacking the hotel,” Charlie points out. She sees the snake demon hunch over and look away. “WHICH I have totally forgiven him for. Anyways it wouldn’t be totally unattended, Razzle and Dazzle will be keeping watching.” On cue the little floating sheep demons pop up beside her, and she scratches under their chins.

“Listen, your pets are cute and all but I don’t think they can do much against a…” The bartender freezes as Razzle snarls at him, a flash of demonic energy flowing between him and his brother, a gentle reminder that they are the chosen protectors of the princess of hell, not just a couple of lambs ready for slaughter. “Well, regardless, we can’t leave without Niffty.” He gestures around to show that the little cyclops is no longer with the group.

“Ahh… maybe it would be best if we didn’t get her involved anyways,” Vaggie points out, “like I know we want to build group unity and all but… I’m not sure she really has the… right mindset yet to be able to contribute.” She glances at her girlfriend, “We can, of course, get her more involved when we have this redemption stuff figured out, but maybe for the time being she doesn’t have to be involved in every group activity…”

“Well that’s kinda f*cking rude…” Husker stiffens, legitimate disappointment in his voice. “Not very f*cking goody two-shoes of you guys to leave her out just cause you don’t always get how her mind works. What happened to ‘we all need to work on trust building sh*t to get the hotel to work’ sh*t you were just spewing? Or is that just a narrative you only push when it suits you?”

“I mean…” Charlie looks visibly uncomfortable, torn between wanting to agree with her girlfriend to put the best interests of the group first, and her desire to see the best in everybody and always give them all the opportunity to learn and grow. “It’s Niffty, I don’t think she’s going to mind being left out every now and then, she can keep herself entertained. Plus, we have less than six months to prove the hotel can work, of course I want to help her achieve redemption, but at what cost? If she slows down everybody else’s progress then the next extermination will come down on us and we won’t be able to redeem anybody!”

“Actually I have to agree with the grumpy cat man,” Sir Pentious interrupts. “The little gremlin creature may sss-scare the sss-sh*t out of me, but it’sss not fair to abandon her, what if sss-she getsss lonely? Like I am without…without… sniff… without my egg boooysss!!” The snake demon starts comically crying as he thinks about how much he misses his minions.

The group stare at him for a while, all of them a bit surprised by his sudden ability to comprehend empathy. Maybe he hit his head during trust falls…

Husk can see that Vaggie is still trying to get Charlie to move on with activities without Niffty, whilst Charlie is stunned and surprisingly moved by Sir. Pentious.

Before anybody can say anything else that might push the group to drag him out of the hotel and leave the Alastor’s wife with only Niffty as protection, Husk speaks up again, “I mean honestly though, should we really leave Niffty alone in the hotel? Even if you’re on the fence about her participating in group activities, I doubt those f*cking sheep can do much to reign her in if she starts to spiral. We might come back to half the hotel burnt down if we leave her without… adult supervision.”

“Okay, that’s actually a good point,” Vaggie sighs, “I guess if we’re going to be leaving the hotel for an activity we should take her with us, but that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about reducing her involvement in the regular stuff. Let’s split up and look for her, then Angel can take us to…” She pauses, looking at the spider, “Where were you going to take us anyways?”

“It’s a surprise! Remember?” Angeldust winks.

“Riiiight, anyways we’ll all take a different floor, she’s gotta be around here somewhere, then we can get back to trust building exercises,” Charlie claps her hands together, then starts directing everybody which floor they get to go search.

A few floors up, Grace has once again crawled under the dining table with her comfort pickle jar. She is silently weeping as she eats, trying to stop herself from thinking about all the horrible things that are plaguing her mind, but it’s just a swirling mess of darkness in her mind.

She jumps at the crashing noise of Niffty falling to the floor from the vents. The maid struggles to get to her feet, stumbling around a bit, maybe she did that ‘trust fall’ thing a few too many times… But once she has her balance again she immediately starts looking around for Grace.

The cyclops doesn’t have to look for long, since being under the table pretty much puts her on the same level as the tiny demon, “Gracie!” She quickly goes over to the woman. “Oooo this is a nice little nook. You like being down here?” She immediately sees her friend’s tear stained face and tilts her head in confusion.

Grace nods, attempting to make a motion that conveys that she finds comfort in confined spaces, but there is really a gesture that can say something like that.

“Okay, but it looks a little chilly on the floor,” Niffty says, despite the fact that the room is very warm. Over the past week of spending time with the human, she has learned that her friend gets cold very easily. The maid rushes over to the bed, pulls a sheet off, and drags it back over. “Here!”

The woman smiles weakly, and takes the sheet, wrapping it around her shoulders. Niffty gets under the table as well, picking up an edge to the sheet and putting it around her own shoulders before sitting. Grace, unsure what to do next, offers the maid one of her few remaining pickles.

“No, no, no!” Niffty pushes it away, “You need it more! It’s the only thing that doesn’t always make you sick right?”

Grace smiles, and begins to move the pickle spear in a circular motion, and does her best to make airplane noises with her lips despite not having the vocal cords to back it up.

The small one pauses, her single eye wide, then she giggles and takes a bite out of it. She then takes the remainder from the woman’s hand and carefully nibbles on it. “Thank you Gracie…” She feels the juice dripping down her fingers, but for once she doesn’t mind the mess. Her voice is surprisingly soft, missing that usual dramatic energy that unsettles people, she hasn’t known Grace for very long but… she feels safe around her. “You’re going to make a great mommy…”

The human was in the middle of taking a bite into the last pickle from the jar, but she coughs and sputters at Niffty’s comment. Once she’s cleared her airways she looks at her, eyes wide, a bit frightened.

The girl has a bit of a sad smile, “People think I’m dumb, but I’m not really… you know that, you don’t treat me like I’m stupid.” She finishes off her own pickle and starts to lick her fingers, but keeps talking. “I was going to wait for you or Alastor to tell me when you were ready, but I’m starting to think maybe neither of you will ever be ready so maybe I need to be the one to bring it up…” Her voice is so surprisingly calm, which may be a side effect of slamming her head into the floor repeatedly and Grace should probably keep an eye on her because this is rather abnormal behavior for the little gremlin.

The mother-to-be closes up the jar and sets it aside, then brings a hand down to her stomach, she tries to communicate with the demon, ‘how?’ her mouth moves.

“Like I said, I’m not stupid,” Niffty grins, “Al would never have gotten that mad at me unless something overrode his usual behavior, there aren’t many things I could think of that would make him behave like that, but ‘primal fatherly protective instinct’ felt like a good bet. Really it was the only thing that would explain why he went to all this trouble to bring you down here and hidden away. You being sick all the time just proved it to me, oh… and the pickles.”

Grace’s chest starts shaking, but she’s not crying this time, no she’s laughing. Silently. But a laugh all the same.

Niffty smiles widely, and stands, taking her handkerchief out of her pocket. “You’re going to be a good mommy,” She reaches up and wipes away the teary residue on the woman’s cheeks. “And if Al tries to be anything less than a great daddy… I’ll stab him for you!”

Chapter 21

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

“Oh boy, what’s the plan boss?”

Alastor’s eye twitches as the gaggle of eggs follows him down the street, never shutting up for more than a microsecond. This is what having children is going to be like, isn’t it? The inane ramblings of a half-formed mind following him around everywhere. Spewing nonsense and crying for attention every moment of every day. He’ll never have a moment of peace again, not unless he leaves all the childcare to his wife and well… he doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes his own father made. The demon shudders as he realizes that the group of little egg minions is making him think about children in plural. What if Grace wants another?

“I like your suit!”

Certainly she would be smart enough to recognize that one is enough, especially after how awful this pregnancy has already been. Hell, even if this pregnancy was normal why would she want to go through it again. When he found out she was pregnant he researched and informed himself on the effects it has on the human body, because after the years of health scares he wanted to make sure he knew exactly what was about to happen to his wife’s body, and it may be one of the few things in his life that has truly scarred him. Like many men he did not have an appreciation for the… hell… that a woman’s body can go through while pregnant but now that he knows he can’t unlearn the information. He knows that purely from a health perspective Grace should NOT get pregnant again. But Alastor ALSO knows that after her difficult childhood she has always craved a large family. When her fertility was lost to the cancer treatments she had taken it as a sign that it just wasn’t meant to be, but was still devastated. The fertility loss had actually been quite a relief to the overlord, he had spent a handful of years waiting for the day that Grace would have to decide which she wanted more, him, or a family. Now it seems fate has decided that she’s allowed to have both, his own desires be damned.

“What are the antlers for?”

But if she does end up asking for more offspring… would he have the strength to tell her no? For a century, in both his human and demon life, he has only cared about his own desires, his own wants and needs. The exception being of course his own mother, he would have done anything to make her smile. But then she passed, and he was left not giving a sh*t about anybody other than himself. Until he met Grace. Now he would give her everything and more, he would rip the stars out of the sky and craft a necklace to decorate her beautiful neck, capture the sun and make an ever burning lamp for her to read beneath. And yet so many of the things she needs, she wants, are outside his power, he has never felt more helpless than he has while married to her. So, if he has the power to give her as many little gremlins as her heart desires, how could he say no after failing her in so many other ways…

“Can I touch your staff thing~”

His head is spinning as he walks. Why has he been so focused on this nonsense today? First at breakfast thinking about dining alongside his future child, ruining his appetite. Now he is focusing on the remote possibility that there might be even more little spawns in the future. He keeps getting stuck running loops in his mind about the notion that his wife may want more children. Even though he knows realistically that she is wise enough not to want to risk her health that way again. Even though he knows that she is the one person who cares about his feelings as much as he cares about hers. He knows she sees him struggling with this change, in fact it makes him feel guilty that she has to be so concerned about his struggles rather than focusing on her own mental health and possibly enjoying the prospect of impending motherhood. Instead he sees the way she looks at him, scared that he is going to reject her and the child in her belly, and he doesn’t know how to cast aside all his hesitations so that he can embrace her and allow her to be happy that she’s going to get to be a mother. WHY can’t he stop these thoughts today, why are they running him ragged on the day he has something so important to take care of. Could this have not plagued him on a morning where all he had to do was rebuild the hotel wall yet again?

“Are those your ears or is it your hair? I can’t tell!”

Alastor sighs, the egg minions still blathering on behind him, even if she does end up desiring more children and is willing to take the risk, Grace would never ask that of him, because she knows he is barely comfortable with this one in the first place. And somehow that makes his head and dead heart hurt worse than the idea of telling her ‘no’ if she were to ask. Why did this all have to get so complicated so fast? Everything was… well not perfect… but it was damn good.

A window display catches his eye as he walks. And he pauses for a moment, gazing in. One would think that there is no use for children’s toys in the pride ring. But between the degenerates who like to play sick games where they run around in diapers as a sex thing… and the occasional sinner who managed to land themselves down here despite dying at a very young age… Well there has been enough business to keep the doors of Old Man McFee’s toy shop open for the past couple centuries. His eyes land on a baby carriage in the middle of the display, and a thought begins to form in his mind, but it is swiftly cut down by the sudden sense of dread that permeates his being, a coldness of ancient power washing over him as he watches a being arise from the shadows.

“Hark Alastor! How fare thee this day?” Zestial’s voice is as bone chilling as ever.

“Who’s that boss?” An egg pipes up, causing Alastor’s shoulders to stiffen as he looks back at the poor stupid creature, “Want me to rough him up for you?”

The radio demon moves swiftly to bend down and tap the egg on its top with his cane, “Follow in silence if you value your shell!” On the surface one might infer that his words are a threat that he will dispose of the eggs if they embarrass him. But the reality is that he does not want to test and see if Zestial’s patience is thinner than his own. He was instructed to deal with the minions in a humane manner, but also after his little mini-crisis just now, he’s not in the mood to see if the egg boys dying will trigger other disgusting emotions within him. “Greetings Zestial!”

As the pair discuss the weather, all the sinners around them begin to lose their absolute minds. And Alastor truly can not blame them. When the radio demon arrived in hell all those decades ago, he had done an incredible job of deposing overlords that had been in power for thousands of years. And yet when he came against Zestial he instinctively knew not to play f*ck around and find out with that particular ancient. Luckily they did not need to sort out their differences in battle, in fact the old demon was grateful for Alastor's work. The previous overlords had ruled in chaos and blood, constant wars for power and never a moment to be able to just sit back with a cup of tea and read the latest books from the mortal realm. So, while hell still wouldn’t necessarily be considered a ‘nice’ place, Zestial prefers the more amicable state of things under the current set of overlords. While there is certainly some infighting every now and then, there hasn’t been an all out war since Alastor cleared out the blood hungry savages that used to rule. As thanks for his work he considers the red clad demon a cautionary ally, one he only trusts as far as he can throw. And both demons know that, currently, if Alastor were to even try to go up against Zestial, that the ancient lord would certainly return him to the puddle of primordial goo that all human souls once were.

As they walk, Zestial moves the conversation on to the subject of the other overlord’s long absence, “Some have even spun wild tales of you falling to holy arms.”

Alastor laughs, “Oh no I just took a well earned sabbatical. Nothing serious.” He adjusts his bowtie in the reflection of a broken window “Though it’s fun to keep everyone on their toes!”

As the other overlord questions him about his involvement with the princess’ pet project, Alastor’s mind wanders yet again. His little vacation was never meant to last as long as it did. When he finally got a way in place to be able to travel to Earth and visit his at the time ‘friend’, Grace, he decided to go under the radar in hell. The last thing he needed was some demons finding out he had the golden train ticket and trying to give him trouble. Demons like Zestial would certainly not be happy to find out that the radio demon was gaining the trust of a human who had powerful magic that he might exploit. He could not risk one such as him finding their own way to the surface and disposing of his little violet ball of energy while she was still too ill to properly protect herself. Initially his hiatus was only supposed to last for the duration of her cancer treatment and until she recovered. But shortly before he was to make his public return, her cancer returned first, and he was forced to stay ‘underground’. Before he knew it, seven years had passed, and by that point… it was no longer the cancer that was making him keep his head low in hell. Alastor would have certainly made some big showy return eventually, but for the time being he had just wanted to enjoy the strangely peaceful life they had built together. Until that life was no longer peaceful, and he had to bring all of it down to this cesspit of an afterlife. Bringing an end to his ‘sabbatical.’

The radio demon manages to maintain conversation with the ancient lord until they reach the elevator, without the other suspecting that his thoughts are not on the words they are exchanging. At least so he thinks, Zesitial is just as good at hiding his true thoughts as Alastor is, maybe even more so, after all he’s had thousands of years of practice.

As they ride the elevator up, Alastor thinks about how at one time he had a plan. Once they had freed her soul from its current contract he was going to steal Grace’s power and use it to finally overthrow the last of those more powerful than him. His wife does not know how powerful she could be, she still thinks that she just has a couple magic tricks. But the moment Alastor saw her in person he knew the truth, he could feel the way her body resonated with her powers, she is meant to be so much more powerful , but the demon who owns her has clearly taken the majority of her energy (and apparently wasting it considering there is no demon he knows of that has risen to power using an energy source that matches Grace’s.) With her violet energy mixed with his own powers, Alastor would have woven all of the pride ring, and perhaps all of hell itself, into his own personal kingdom. One that he’d rule from his radio tower. And while of course he still desires to be the most powerful, he would now rather rule alongside Grace than over her.

How different would their relationship be if the woman’s soul had still been her own when the pair met? Every now and then Alastor wonders if he would have had the time to fall in love with her had he not been waiting for her owner to reveal himself. He knows his own mind, Grace was so lost, so lonely when they met. It would not have taken much for the radio demon to coerce her into a deal, and as soon as she outlived her usefulness he would have discarded her. He never would have given himself the time to fall into those emerald eyes and been ensnared by her beautiful mind.

Still, even if his plan has been derailed, that doesn’t mean he can’t make the best of things. One day he and Grace will rise to take their place at the top of hell’s food chain. And even if they don’t make it as far as he hopes, then perhaps he can still pave the way for the spawn of both their abilities, their child… maybe even children… to take their rightful places as the top of the hierarchy of the universe.

Chapter 22

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

The hotel crew have been searching for Niffty for about half an hour now. In that time she and Grace have dug a notebook out of the writing desk and begun working on a list of baby names. Niffty had been horrified to learn that Grace and Alastor hadn’t even considered any yet. The pair are still under the table, as Grace still isn’t quite emotionally ready to come out.

So far the two sided list, boys on the left - girls on the right, is very much heavier on the girl’s side. Grace’s suggestions are mostly girl names with floral themes, like ‘Lily’ and ‘Violet’. But the only boy names she can come up with are biblical in nature, ‘Joseph’ or ‘Michael’ and well those don’t work for…obvious reasons…

The human types a message on her phone.

-what abuot Adam if it’s a boy?-

The maid stares at a message for a few seconds, then cracks up in a fit of maniacal laughter. She falls over, huffing and puffing, absolutely laughing her ass off, unable to speak.

After a minute she catches her breath, and between disturbing giggles manages to say, “Adam is a dick, a total dick, the worst, not even a cool bad boy kinda dick just… an utter douche bag of dicks galore. You don’t want to name your baby after him Gracie.”

Grace mouths an ‘oh,’ and sets her phone in her lap.

The lists also contain an assortment of odd names scribbled in with Niffty’s handwriting. Examples being ‘Mc’Roach’ and ‘Dyson’ on the boys half, and ‘Lady Whistlebutt’, ‘Lysollia’, and ‘Fabuloso’ on the girl half. There are a few that Grace recognizes as Spanish curse words, and when questioning the cyclops about it she just says “Oh I heard Vaggie saying those under her breath and I thought they were really pretty.” Needless to say, the woman will not be naming her child ‘Pendejo’ or ‘Puta-Sucia’.

Although there is one name that she suggested that Grace thinks is cute. ‘Scooter’ as a boy's name, but while Grace thinks it’s cute she’s not sure Alastor will go for it.

There is a sudden quiet as Grace’s mind wanders to her husband, and begins to form an idea. Niffty watches the woman’s face screw up, as she twirls the pen in her hand trying to break through a mental block. Finally after a moment she leans over and scribbles ‘Alastor Jr.’ under the boy’s names, then adds and underlines ‘A.J.’

Niffty reads it over, and her face breaks out into a big smile. “I think he’ll really like that one!”

Grace’s shoulder’s relax a bit, and she smiles softly. She had never been much for the idea of just naming a kid after their parents. This one feels right in a way though, and may actually be something Alastor will agree to, being reminded that this baby is the beginning of his lineage may even help to sooth some of his unwillingness when it comes to this whole baby thing. That all could be the pregnant woman’s wishful thinking though, a desire to give her husband something that will make her proud. Still, it makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside thinking about a little A.J. running around with his father’s fluffy ears and bright smile. But the moment is interrupted as she begins to cough suddenly.

Niffty pats her back, “Are you thirsty? Those pickles were really salty…”

The woman nods, rubbing her throat, wincing as the raised scar aches.

The little demon gets up, “I think we have apple juice in the kitchen, you probably need the sugar too. I’ll be right back!” She scurries over to the wall and climbs back up to the vent before Grace can say… well Grace can’t say anything to stop her because she has no voice.

In the section of hallway below the room, Sir Pentious is slithering around, this is the floor he was assigned to look for the gremlin maid on. “Ooooh Niffty, here Nif Nif Nif,” The snake attempts to make little ‘pspsps’ noises but his forked tongue makes it nearly impossible. KeeKee crosses his path, and looks back at him, apparently offended by his butchered attempt. He sighs and looks down at the ground, this was taking so much longer than they anticipated. The maid didn’t typically go off and hide, so none of them really know where she could have gone.

Suddenly there is a rattling, scratching noise in the ceiling. The metal of the vents shaking behind the drywall, and whatever is causing it is moving. His eyes dart around, following the source of the noise as it moves across the ceiling, then down into the wall. For whatever reason the vents system is a labyrinth that can be difficult to navigate at times. Though only somebody who had been in there would know this, after getting lost on several occasions.

“INTRUDER!!” He suddenly screams, and from his pocket he suddenly pulls the last ray gun that had not been confiscated by Vaggie. “INFILTRATOR, HELP!!” He begins to fire at the wall where he can hear the ‘intruder’ moving about. The source of sound moves quickly back up to the ceiling and his shots follow.

“Pentious what the f*ck!” Vaggie yells as she runs into the halls. “Stop shooting up the hotel where did you even get another f*cking gun?”

“THERE’SSS AN INFILTRATOR IN THE VENTILATION SSSHAFTS!!” Pentious continues to scream, firing wildly, trying his best to hit his target. But well… his best has never been particularly great when it comes to wielding his firearms, his skills lie more in building them.

“OH MY GOSH,” Charlie was close behind her girlfriend, “Stop! It’s probably Niffty! You’re going to hurt her!”

The snake just continues to scream in blind panic while firing at the ceiling. The rest of the crew are quick to get to this floor to investigate the source of the chaos. Vaggie attempts to wrestle the ray gun out of Pentious’ hand, but by the time she’s gut punched him hard enough to drop him to the floor, the damage is already done.

The ceiling creaks violently, dust, drywall powder, and flecks of insulation pouring from the holes left by the shooting. The whole section of hall is filled with a light smoke that smells absolutely awful. After a moment of eerie stillness, a near perfect circular section drops from the ceiling with a spectacular crash. The surprisingly solid chunk is about a foot thick, with the metal tube of the vent shaft sandwiched between ceiling tiles and the carpet of the floor above, with plenty of insulation in between as well. A dazed and disoriented little cyclops demon crawls out of the shaft section.

“Batten… down the… hatches…” she mumbles, trying to stand, “we’re… under fire… mateys…” She takes a few stumbling steps, before spinning dramatically and collapsing.

“sh*t, now look what you f*cking did.” Vaggie puts her hands on her hips, “Now Alastor is going to have to fix that AND you put Niffty out of commission… this is such a mess Charlie this is why… Charlie?” She realizes suddenly that her usually incredibly talkative and energetic princess is very… quiet right now.

Charlie is staring up at the hole, confusion in her eyes, her mouth slightly agape. After a moment of processing she finally manages to say, “There’s not supposed to be a room up there…”

Husker’s blood runs cold as he looks between the dazed Niffty and the hole in the ceiling. He hopes it’s not the case but… how many secret rooms could this place possibly have.

“What? That can’t be right, the floorplan up there has got to match with down here right? That’s how hotels usually are,” Angeldust approaches, looking up, with his height he can almost see into the room, getting glimpses of the furniture, “Oh sh*t, that’s an actual f*cking room! A nice one too! How is it that f*cking clean?” His eyes widen as he briefly recalls…

Lady in the walls.

Charlie clears her throat, a bit of dust filling her lungs, “No, there are a lot of sections of each floor that are blocked off. I don’t know who originally built the hotel, but they didn’t want to make it follow a conventional design structure. So on that floor there’s a whole section in the middle that’s inaccessible, the section that is right… there…”

“So maybe who ever built this f*cking place put a bunch of secret rooms around, it’s probably nothing important,” Husk says suddenly, if that room is what he thinks it is then he has to do everything he can to keep them out, even though he knows the curiosity of this bunch knows no bounds, “bet nobody’s been up there in years. Place is probably full of all kinds of f*cking nastys, we should just seal it up before we catch some disease that’s been trapped in there.”

“No, no, everything in there is too new,” Angel gets up on his toes, trying to see more clearly, “Like fresh wallpaper, nice furniture, no dust…”

Charlie squats down to Niffty’s level, “Heeeey Niffty, do you know anything about that room up there?”

“Lava lamps… flood gates…. LYSOL!” The maid mutters deliriously on the floor. Looks like after the head trauma from trust falls, this little debacle has been too many knocks to the brain for her. They’re going to have to wait for her to recover before they’ll get anything straight out of her.

“Alright, Angeldust, give me a boost,” Vaggie ties her hair back suddenly, and has her spear in hand, “I’m going to go check it out.”

Husker grits his teeth, he can’t think of any way to stop this. He knows that nothing he says will keep the girl from going up, and trying to stop her will just implicate him in what’s going on. He has to watch in horror as the spider lifts the girl up through the hole, and he prays that Alastor’s guest is f*cking good at hide and seek… if she manged to avoid Pentious’ ray blasts that is. He picks up Niffty and holds her close to his fur, listening closely. He can hear two people moving about in the area above.

“WHAT THE f*ck!” Vaggie calls out a few moments later, the bartender’s breath catches, thinking the worst, “There’s a secret tunnel!” He relaxes again, but not completely, and then another minute passes before Vaggie sticks her head back down the hole. “It goes to f*cking Alastor’s room! I knew that sneaky, freaky, f*cking piece of sh*t was up to no good. Everybody meet me there I’ll let you in!”

The rest of the crew scramble to get upstairs, but Husk hangs back, his mind overflowing with all the details of the horrific things Alastor is going to do to him…

POTATO'S DISCUSSION CORNER

I’d love to know people’s thoughts on Niffty’s origins. I have loads of different theories about who she is and where she came from and why she is the way she is, they all conflict though and probably none of them are right, BUT If you want to I offer for you to go to the comments of this chapter and tell me your favorite theories.

What is your primary headcanon or theory for her, what are you most confident will turn out to be true in the show? (I don’t know which of my theories is most likely, but I do actually think she is going to turn out to not have been a sinner and actually be either full or part angel or hellborn.)

What is your favorite joke theory? A theory or headcanon that there’s NO WAY it’s going to turn out to be true but when you first thought of or read it it made you laugh so hard and now you wanna see silly doodles of it? (I saw somebody make a joke post that Alastor and Lucifer had a one night stand and Niffty is their daughter, Alastor was gone for 7 years because he was raising Niffty and the reason he hates Lucifer so much is because he doesn’t remember the night and doesn’t acknowledge Niffty. There is no way it’s what happened but I would kill for a 10 part comedic webcomic where that’s the premise)

What is your highly unlikely but could still be true absolute crack theory? One that there no real evidence to support it, but it’s not impossible, and you’ve told a handful of people but they think you are crazy, but you are holding onto this theory so that if one day an episode airs and it’s what happens you can message your friends at 4 in the morning with ‘I f*ckING TOLD YOU SO’. (Mine is that Niffty is the one who holds Alastor’s soul, I have no evidence for it, it probably won’t be true, but I think it would be a crazy ass plot twist and is technically possible)

Finally, what do you think the backstory is that I’m using for Niffty in my fic? I’ve done my best to start laying some foreshadowing and hints, not a lot, but does anybody have any ideas what my plans might be for her if I end up deep diving into my version of the backstory? I kinda want to see if I've been doing a good job with the hints and since it's not a major plot point for the story I will absolutly tell you if you get it right or at least are in the ballpark

Chapter 23

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor is seated at the meeting table when yet another sense of dread overtakes him. This time it is different than when Zestial approached him on the street. It is not the feeling of another being's power enveloping him, it is like hearing screams in the distance. The group is still waiting on Carmilla to arrive and start things, so he had just been chatting with Rosie. The woman’s smile fades as he sees her friend’s ears twitch, his own smile tighten, and his eyes grow wide.

“Is something the matter, Alastor?” She says softly, putting a hand on his.

“Something just… happened…” The radio demon mutters, his head swiveling to look out the window, towards the hotel in the distance. The building looks fine, no invaders tearing it to pieces.

“Do you need to go?” The cannibal follows his gaze. Though she had been so looking forward to some updates and gossip regarding his little stowaway, she understood the importance.

“I’m not sure,” he replies, beginning to stand, ready to abandon the meeting and go see what is happening.

“Leaving already Alastor?” Zestial asks, raising an eyebrow.

The radio demon bites his tongue. Of course, he can’t leave now. It would draw too many eyes to him. He had spent so long crafting up a perfect lie for where he’s been and why he came back, he needed to begin weaving the story so that the others don’t start poking their nose in his business. If he leaves now then they might ask why, and start looking in places he doesn’t want looked at.

“No not at all Zestial,” Alastor lies smoothly despite internal strain. “I simply want to take a better look at this view before we get all wrapped up in stuffy meeting things.” He approaches the window, watching the hotel. Everything looks fine. Perhaps it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. After all, he has had two separate near mental spin outs already this morning, he is not one to get himself worked up about much at all, so it would make sense that he’s feeling on edge. If he doesn’t reign in his concerns about this whole fatherhood business he might develop an anxiety disorder by the time the baby arrives, and he would rather perish than become somebody he’d usually label as a ‘nervous wreck.’

“It is a really cool view isn’t it?” One of the overlords pipes up, “There was another building in the way, but the owner fell a couple exterminations ago, there was a big scramble to acquire his souls and other assets. Carmilla scooped up most of his sh*t including the property deed and tore it down. You should see the view from her office upstairs, you can see across the Forsaken Fields, on really clear days you can see Imp City in the distance.”

Alastor nods, “Yes it is quite a spectacular view, almost as nice as the one from my old radio tower…” His eyes wander over to the large structure of the V’s estate, in his absence from hell they had claimed his radio tower and built their monstrosity around it, the antenna can still be seen at the top, but it’s been modified to send out Vox’s junk television signals instead.

His right hand goes to his left, feeling the ring beneath his glove. He knows he has to have…ugh… ‘faith’ in Husker and Niffty’s ability to watch out for his beloved. There is nobody within the hotel that he believes poses enough of a threat that they can’t happen, not to mention that even in her current physical state Grace still has a few of her own tricks up her sleeves. He has no reason to think that she might be in danger, the radio demon tries to focus his mind instead of letting it be consumed by hypotheticals.

Though it might not be too big of a deal if he just… puts a little slack on his pet’s leash. He rolls his neck, bones cracking, eyes glowing green for just a moment. It’s reasonable, if he’s going to have the cat acting as a guard dog, then he might as well give him some teeth. Once the act is complete Alastor returns to his seat, just as the doors open and Carmilla Carmine enters the room, followed close behind by her darling daughters Odette and Clara.

“Welcome Hell’s sovereign overlords,” The woman’s voice is dignified and respectful as she speaks. “I invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city.”

The radio demon glances around the room, finally taking in all who are present. Though he had kept tabs on the city while he was ‘away’ he was surprised to realize that there’s been an apparent shift of power in his absence. Though he recognizes most of the faces in the room, demon sitting across from him was a minor overlord when he left, certainly not on the same level as the others in this room. Normally that seat would be filled by… his gaze moves again to the window, and he finally recalls who owned the building that was torn down to create this view.

Rosie leans close to him, and under her breath whispers, “watch your ears dear…” Pulling Alastor’s attention to the fact that his ears have been swiveled in the direction of the hotel, as though he might be able to hear if there is any trouble, which at this distance would be difficult even for him. He folds his hands on the table and forces himself to pay attention.

By the time his focus is reigned in again Carmilla has finished her opening monologue about the souls they own being at risk with the new extermination schedule, and it seems he has gotten himself under control just in time for her eyes to fall on him, “Alastor?”

“Yes I know I’ve been absent some time,” he forces his shoulders to relax, and he slips into his dramatic showman type way of speaking, prepared to give a lengthy and in depth lie as to where he has been for all these years, “I’m sure you’ve all be wondering!” He forces his radio filer to drop, something that is surprisingly more difficult to do than one may imagine. Normally he can only speak without it if he’s actually being genuine. It’s quite a pain because he knows that others know what his filter dropping means, and if he could easily drop it on his own then it would be so much easier to lie to and manipulate people if when he really needs them to believe him he could just talk to them in his normal voice and they would automatically trust him more because of it. The eyeball on his cane blinks at him, as though offended that he would force the filter to drop, and his throat hurts from the effort of just those few words.

Carmilla doesn’t even hesitate, “Not really. But welcome back in any case.”

Alastor’s eye twitches, his whole body tenses. It’s fine, it’s totally fine. It’s easier if nobody asks questions anyways. If nobody cares where he was then nobody will go snooping and find out about Grace. He only spent twelve hours straight workshopping a story with Rosie and Grace to explain his absence. Only used about two dozen favors and a couple thousand soul currency to create a paper trail and some witnesses in case somebody checks his alibi. Only spent three weeks lying awake in bed thinking about all the possible questions he might encounter and how to answer them, ensuring every possible aspect of his story is absolutely air tight. It’s not like all that work is wasted, it’s easier if nobody cares. If nobody asks then he doesn’t have to risk them not believing his answer. It’s better.

Can sinners get stomach ulcers from stress?

This whole time that he’s trying to convince himself that it’s all okay, Carmilla has continued on with the meeting. She has a diagram up and is apparently talking about percentages or something.

Alastor is drawn out of his brain’s little spiral by the doors slamming open. His gaze snaps to Velvette, who has always been known for making an entrance. She is talking loudly on the phone, intentionally disrupting the meeting. For a moment he begins to try and tune into the cell phone signals, a skill he can perform because even the modern technology still uses radio waves, but there is no signal to access. Everything the V is saying is an act as part of her goal to put the spotlight on herself, there’s nobody on the other side of that phone call.

He is admittedly relieved when she says that the other Vs will not be coming. It would be no issue to deal with Vox, that’s for sure, but with the way his mind has been stressing today he does not need to add dealing with that particular loudmouth to his plate. Plus, if there is anybody that can pick up on the fact that he is distracted today, it would be that f*cking television set. And Val is just generally disgusting to be around so he’s glad he won’t have to play nice with the f*cking insect.

Suddenly, and without warning, there is a severed head on the table. An excorist’s head. An angel’s head.

“Oh, tasty!” Alastor leans over, practically salivating. Angel blood does smell so delicious, he had a few up close encounters with it in various fights during extermination day. But he has never seen an actual dead exorcist. As the others gasp and murmur, he begins to realize the gravity of the situation. He has always suspected that angels must have some kind of vulnerability. Nothing is truly immortal. All things must die. He just hadn’t expected a dead one to be dropped in his lap right as it has become incredibly important that he figure out how to kill them.

Like any other sinner and overlord he’s always wanted to know how to slay the winged freaks that come down to slaughter them all. But since bringing his pregnant wife down here to hell, and finding out that the extermination date has been moved up, it’s become imperative that he finds a way to slay the exorcists so that he can properly protect his… family. Now it seems that the opportunity to find his much needed knowledge is closer at hand than he thought it would be.

Vevette is not the only one who notices Carmilla’s very particular expression. Alastor certainly sees the disgust on her face, unlike him, she doesn’t seem to find a severed head to be a delectable thing placed upon the table. But he can also see recognition in her eyes, she knows something. He realizes that this also might explain the extermination being moved up, he had questioned why after thousands of years heaven would change up the schedule all of a sudden. He knows little about the place but he is aware that they do not like change, not in the slightest. But one of their own being killed suddenly on the front lines would certainly be something to spur them into a revenge fueled attack. Millions of sinners slaughtered over the millennials, but a single one of them falls and they get their panties all up in a wad? Certainly sounds like the kind of bullsh*t they would pull.

Though this does cause him to lean more towards Carmilla and Zestial’s side of the argument they are currently engaging in with the young upstart… oh they all started singing at some point. He supposes that’s good entertainment while he works out the details of everything in his mind. While the carnage of an all out war could be incredible, blood and bodies everywhere, a chance for him to stretch his shadows and have some enjoyable fights for the first time since he wiped out the last of the ancients, he is wise enough to know the risks. Hell will be the battlefield, to strike against heaven will bring all of its forces raining down on this god forsaken place. Even if the demons do win, or at least force heaven into a truce, there will be destruction and casualties far beyond what the pride ring has ever seen. If all out war comes to hell, his Gracie will be trapped in the middle of it, his unborn child will be at risk. All that he has done to try and keep them safe will be for nothing if heaven’s army razes pentagon city to the ground.

If only he were stronger. If only Grace had all of her power. If her body was not so weak after the years of cancer, if her womb was not currently housing another life, if her soul did not belong to another demon who’s been sucking that delicious violet energy out of her, then perhaps the two of them could power through. Alastor has no doubt that if his wife was at the full strength he knows she could have been capable of, then there would be no concerns about defending themselves from heaven. But unfortunately, that is not the case, and may never be. So, instead while all the other overlords bicker about what to do, he has to plot to find out how this exorcist died, so that he might have a slim chance of saving his family from being destroyed before it gets the chance to exist.

Chapter 24

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Husker holds Niffty close to his chest, his eyes darting between the hole in the ceiling and the rest of the group as they head for the stairs. The maid is still murmuring nonsense, which is a problem for many reasons. Firstly, it means he’s going to have to deal with this sh*t on his own, but the more problematic issue being that he and Alastor’s wife have never been introduced. He has no way of knowing if the woman will trust him and do as he says without Niffty to vouch for him.

He hisses slightly as something shifts. For a moment he feels that damn chain around his neck, but the sensation is different this time. He feels the lead loosening, not enough to free him, but enough that he can feel more strength in his veins than he has in a while, not just his own but… there’s a burning sensation as his eyes glow green for just a moment. The bartender clears his throat, rolling his neck to adjust to the strange sensation. Alastor knows something is up, that’s the only thing that could explain why he would suddenly not only put slack on the leash, but also funnel some of his power over.

If Alastor knows something is up, then that means Husk is well and truly f*cked if sh*t goes sideways. If he fails to protect that guest of his even with his leash loosened and a power boost from his master, then there will not be a single ounce of mercy from the radio demon. Not that the bastard has ever been merciful in the past but… the cat has borne witness way too many times to what the other overlord is capable of doing to another soul, he can only imagine that what he would be… he can try to think of the worst thing imaginable, multiply it by a thousand, and then knows that Alastor will inflict even worse than that upon him if he fails. The demon shudders as he spreads his wings.

Flight is difficult when you’re chained down, even with this temporary extra freedom he’s been granted the few flaps of his wings that it takes him to ascend through the hole in the ceiling is almost painful. The gust of air kicks up all the dust and debris that settled in the hallway after the ceiling collapsed. It creates something like a smoke screen around him as he ascends to the upper floor. It gets in his fur, his eyes, his nose, causing him to be a coughing, sputtering mess when he lands. Vaggie is already halfway down the secret tunnel, and so luckily does not hear the commotion.

When the dust begins to clear from his airways, he begins to sniff around. There is a hint of smoke, it seems that a blast clipped the bed and now the covers are smoldering. Husker’s fur bristles as he realizes he also smells the sharp tang of blood. But not the fetid smell of demon ichor, it is coppery, fresh, lifeblood. sh*t. He blinks the drywall powder out of his eyes and looks around, there’s an overturned table nearby, the scent is coming from behind it.

The whole room is covered in a fine layer of debris, some of the shots had gone clear through to the next layer of ceiling, resulting in the same mess covering the room. His tail drags through the carpet as he walks, leaving a trail in the white and gray powder that covers it. Niffty clings to his fur, her eye still closed tightly as she mutters. As he gets close to the table, Husk hears a gasp, and a shuffling, the person hiding behind it having heard his approach, and apparently trying to conceal themselves further.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” Husker says softly, he glances back to the tunnel, making sure that the others haven’t returned yet, then crouches down, “Don’t be scared I’m here to… help…” As he peers behind the table, the bartender suddenly becomes aware of the level of deep sh*t he has gotten himself into, the level that Alastor has apparently been stuck in for a while. When he smelled the fresh blood, he assumed… no he hoped that this was just a newly dead soul, somebody who still has some essence of the living world on them. Well, he’s suspected for a while that his boss may have done something like this, but he really thought that the radio demon wouldn’t be so colossally stupid as bringing a living soul into hell. “f*ck…”

The woman whimpers, her short brown hair in complete disarray, her green eyes wide in utter terror. With one hand she clutches a smoking device to her chest. Husker immediately identifies it as a portable radio, it seems to have taken a hit in Sir Pentious’ ray gun fiasco. If he had to guess it’s probably the girl’s way of communicating with Al, which is why despite the fact that it is clearly non-functional now, she is still holding onto it like her life depends on it. But her other hand is holding the real problem, clinging tight to her shoulder, blood pouring from between her fingers, there is a smell of burnt flesh where the energy of the ray gun began to cauterize the edges of the wound, but it wasn’t enough to fully stop the bleeding.

Husker uses the hand that isn’t holding Niffty to reach towards the woman to help her stand, “Come on we have to get you out of here…” She pulls away, her mouth moving like she is going to shriek but no noise comes out. “It’s okay it’s okay I’m with Al… we have to move before the others get back…” His shoulders tense as he hears footsteps in the distance, voices as the group talk.

“I knew that sneaky rat f*ck bastard was up to something,” Vaggie grumbles as she leads the group to the room. Her spear is out, clutched in her fists, and her glare could probably kill if they weren’t all already dead. “The only way into this room is that secret door hidden by his bookcase, so Alastor has to be behind this!”

“Maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves, jumping to conclusions,” Charlie says quickly. “He might not be doing anything nefarious, I mean it’s just a room, he could be… practicing his interior decorating skills!” She’s stretching for explanations, the princess really doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that it was her choice to bring Alastor into the hotel, her decision to trust him. As they enter the strange hotel room, she immediately gestures to the large bed, “I didn’t see a bed in his room! Maybe this is where he comes to sleep!”

“But why hide it in a secret passage, why build a whole room without telling you just so he can sleep?” Angeldust points out, looking around, slightly impressed by how much nicer this room is than the rest of the hotel. Or was before Sir Pentious’ ray gun tore the middle of it to shreds. It’s no palace, but he’d mistake it for a room at maybe a three, maybe four star hotel back in the living world. Hell, it’s nicer than his dressing room at Valentino’s studio, but with less sex toys.

“He probably doesn’t want any of us to see a possible weakness, I didn’t think the f*cker slept, it would just be a time when he’s vulnerable,” Husker says, his wings are puffed up as he stands on the other side of the room, he should keep quiet but he also feels compelled to try and keep them from investigating further. “Honestly we should probably get out of here before he catches us snooping through his sh*t and gets pissed.”

“No, there’s more going on here, I can smell it, he’s hiding something from us,” Vaggie snaps. Luckily that sense of smell is figurative, and not an actual ability like Husk’s, otherwise it would be game over already. She’s so angry right now, sure she never trusted Alastor, sure she should be glad she’s being proven right, but in the end if he’s betrayed Charlie and it hurts her feelings, that’s not worth the satisfaction of being right. So she’s furious that her girlfriend is now in a position where she might have to feel the sting of betrayal.

“Anyways, don’t you want the opportunity to see what kinda skeletons he’s got in his closet,” Angel teases as he crosses the room to the large wardrobe.

“Persss-onally I think we sssee enough of the skeletonsss he keepsss out in the open,” Sir Pentious says, hanging back. He glances at the cat demon, his hat’s eye squinting in suspicion. “How did you get up here before usss?”

“The wings aren’t just for show dumbass,” Husk jerks his thumb back at his wings, immediately regretting it since he’s currently trying to conceal a human woman behind them.

“Everybody just shut up and tear this place apart, we don’t know when he’s going to be back so if he’s hiding something we have to find it now!” Vaggie moves over to the writing desk in the corner.

“Isn’t this an invasion of his privacy though?” Charlie hangs back, her arms folded as she withdraws into herself. “I mean I’m trying to get you guys into heaven, and going through somebody’s belongings isn’t really a virtuous thing to do…”

Husk would feel bad for the princess if he wasn’t busy trying to conceal the secret that the rest of the group is trying to dig up. Although after her lack of empathy earlier regarding excluding Niffty from group activities, he really isn’t in the mood to give her much in return. While the others search the room, he slowly shuffles from the overturned table towards the hole in the floor, allowing the human to crawl behind his wings.

Niffty is beginning to regain consciousness, as Husk sees her big eye slowly open he quietly shushes her, pleading with the maid to not draw any extra attention to them.

Despite his reservations about the situation, Sir Pentious does slither across the room to investigate. He heads for the bathroom since the others seem to have the main room covered. This does cause him to pass close to Husk and Nif, and he becomes very aware of the way the cat’s fur practically puffs up in a defensive manner, his tail bushy and swaying side to side. Luckily the snake attributes it to the other demon being so against them all messing with Alastor’s stuff, and doesn’t notice the way his wings adjust position.

Husker glances back over his shoulder, the woman is shaking, as she tries to crawl, leaving a trail of blood behind. Luckily the carpet is a bright shade of red, so it’s not obvious that the trail is of blood, but he and Niffty will still have to try and prevent anybody from taking too much of an interest in the dark spots and where they lead.

“Ok this is weird!” Angel pipes up as he digs through the wardrobe, “These are all women’s clothes! And even some long wigs!” There are a handful of unisex t-shirts and sweatpants in the drawers, but the majority of the clothing is female oriented.

Charlie, in her desperate desire to find any potentially innocent reason for Alastor’s deception, gasps and slaps the bottom of her fist against the palm of the other hand, “He must be a cross dresser! He’s ashamed to tell us that he likes wearing girl’s clothes so he comes in here to play dress up and feel pretty!”

“Except none of it would fit him. The wigs maybe but..” Angel pulls out one of the longer brunette wigs, pausing to whistle at the quality, before he resumes speaking, “all of these are for a fairly short, definitely super petite woman. I’d say somewhere between… four foot ten and five foot two. And Al may have that scrawny as f*ck waist, but he’s what… seven feet tall? With his height and his shoulder width he’d never fit into any of this. Oooo shiney!” He ends with an exclamation as he discovers and opens the jewelry box in the bottom drawer.

Husk’s tail is swishing back and forth nervously. The woman is moving so painfully slowly and he doesn’t know why she can’t just hurry up, at this rate they are going to get caught. Despite his frustration, he has an inkling of why, her body looks concerningly frail, so much so that he’s definitely going to have to figure out if she’s some sort of torture prisoner. Alastor and Niffty have been calling this woman the radio demon’s wife, but with her condition he has to wonder if the marriage was… consensual.

Vaggie is poking around the writing desk, opening drawers and finding nothing more than some blank notebooks and barely used pens. Eventually she finds a sheet of half crumpled paper, the writing on it seems fresh and there’s a singed corner. She can’t be certain what happened to it but it seems as though it was nearly a casualty in the snake’s rapid fire destruction of the room. She picks it up and starts to read it over, quickly realizing that it’s a list of names. There’s two sets of handwriting, one looks familiar but she can’t quite place why.

“Okay that’s… that’s not right…” The woman mutters upon seeing ‘Fabuloso’ under the section labeled ‘girl,’ and despite there being much more important things to deal with, she feels compelled to take a pen and correct it, crossing out the ‘o’ and changing it to ‘Fabulosa.’ Still a terrible name but at least more grammatically correct in her language, though she also has to raise an eyebrow at the Spanish curses that are also on the sheet of paper. “There’s this weird list of what I think are supposed to be names over here?”

Charlie comes over and reads it, “OH, that’s Niffty’s handwriting. You know what, I bet this is where Niffty comes to plan her little roach puppet shows!” She takes the sheet of paper, “I bet these are name ideas for her characters. Maybe Alastor helps her write her shows!”

Vaggie sighs, it’s not exactly an impossible idea, but it’s still a stretch, “Babe, even if that’s what this list is for, it doesn’t explain anything else about this room.”

Sir Pentious pops his head out of the bathroom, “Doesss anybody know what thisss isss?” He drags an IV stand out of the bathroom, the saline bag hanging from it is empty.

Vaggie gestures dramatically in the snakes direction while looking at the princess, “See what I mean? There’s nothing good intentioned that explains all the weird sh*t in this room!”

“Okay, I don’t have an explanation for that one…but still…” Charlie says solemnly.

Husk has nearly gotten the human to the hole in the floor, they are almost in the clear. But there is a lot more dust and debris around the damaged section, and it’s all getting kicked up by the cat’s tail swishing. Kicking up just high enough to get into the woman’s lungs, and irritate her already messed up throat.

The bartender freezes as she breaks into a horrific coughing fit, causing everybody to turn and look at him. Husk and Niffty lock eyes for a moment as the rest of the room becomes aware that there is another person with them. Without hesitation, he takes Niffty, and chucks her at Vaggie, who he perceives to be the biggest threat. She sails through the air, still confused and disoriented but ready to whatever is necessary.

“f*ck! f*ck get her off!” Vaggie screams as the gremlin latches onto her head and begins clawing and biting like a feral, rabid cat.

Husk begins to turn to scoop up the woman, but the closer threat lashes out. Sir Pentious wraps his tail around the bartender’s leg and pulls him to the ground.

“f*ck,” He hisses, his claws glowing with a green energy as he lashes out at the tail, slicing deep. The snake wails and pulls back. Meanwhile the human scrambles for the hole, but stops at the edge, staring down. It’s far too high a jump in her condition, and before she can try to make a break for the tunnel, she finds the barrel of a Tommy gun pressed to her forehead.

Chapter 25

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor watches the little egg, ‘Frank’ follow Carmilla, her daughters, and Zestial down the hall. After a moment he and Rosie board the elevator that will take them back down the alley behind the building.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so stressed,” Rosie says, eyeing her old friend.

“Stressed? Whatever do you mean stressed?” Alastor tries to laugh it off, “When have you ever seen me ‘stressed’ my dear Rosie.” And yet he finds he can not stop the way his hands twist his cane back and forth. His ever present smile is tight, his eyes tired yet full of anxiety.

“Well, there was the time you spilled sulphuric acid on your favorite pair of shoes,” Rosie begins, “Oh and you were rather anxious right before you told me that you had gotten married and not invited me to the wedding.” Her voice is a bit teasing on that last bit, but her eyes hold some resentment that she’s not let go. She gently puts a hand on his shoulder, “And right now… I’m seeing you be stressed right now. And the other overlords may have missed it, but that is only because they don’t know you like I do. But if I’m catching on to it, it’s not long before somebody else notices as well.”

As they get off the elevator, the radio demon just wants to make an immediate run for the hotel. To check on Grace, to make sure that nothing has happened in his absence. But he restrains himself, if he gives into the worry, then he will never get past it. If he allows these wild and unfounded concerns to dictate his actions then he will never be free of them.

The pair cross the alley to where the remaining egg minions are, staying close together. Alastor watches as the little creatures play in the dumpster, pulling out little ‘treasures’ and showing them off to each other. His lips curl in disgust as he thinks of a grimey child tracking mud all over his carpet.

He and Rosie are silent for a while as they wait for the other overlords to finish leaving. Every now and then one of the elevators open, and an overlord steps off. A few congregate nearby, discussing the events that happened upstairs, and their plans for later, as though this is just some regular office meeting. But soon they disperse, and the two are alone once again, aside from the sentient chicken fetuses.

The radio overlord closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, tuning in to his radio wave senses. Although he’s looking for any device that may be recording them, he is specifically trying to make sure there is no Vox tech in the area. Any standard equipment is probably unmonitored, but he knows that ever since their little spat over the airwaves, his former friend has most likely set up his systems to automatically notify him when Alastor shows up on one of his cameras. He senses the signals from Velvette’s phone, but it’s a ways away, she seems to be having a conversation with one of her models, yelling at them about their various inadequacies as she pursues a fabric store. A fabric store! The pride ring can have a fabric store but it can’t have one damn grocery store?

Luckily although the damn television-head has his cameras all over town, the headquarters of other overlords are usually big blind spots. There are a handful of surveillance cameras, but they are all part of Carmilla’s security system. So not only does he not have to worry about Vox watching him right now, there is also an added benefit that he can just… take another deep breath and send out a radio wave pulse that temporarily knocks them out of commission. Vox tech has all those pesky extra security measures designed specifically to minimize his ability to mess with them. He can sense it, and his natural ability to obfuscate his face on video still works, but he can’t disable the sh*t because Vox is admittedly rather good at what he does. But now Carmilla’s security system is down for a few minutes, so he and Rosie have the freedom to talk while he waits for ‘Frank’ to return.

“So then, Alastor…” Rosie plays with her umbrella, uncertain how to get her friend to open up. “Why… are you so stressed?”

“I am not…” He starts, but catches the way she is looking at him. He knows he’s not fooling her, he’s barely fooling himself. “I don’t know. I really don’t Rosie.” He starts twirling his cane, he needs something to do with his hands otherwise he might lose control of his mind once again. “This isn’t like me, you know that. I don’t get anxious. I don’t worry. I don’t… ‘lose my cool’ as some might say.”

“I would beg to differ,” Rosie chuckles, “You may keep your head on straight most of the time, but the reason most sinners know not to mess with you is because they know what happens if you lose your cool.” She gestures to the hem of his coat, “Didn’t you blow that one snake halfway across the pentagram the other day just because he ripped your coat? And then when V…” She pauses as the other demon’s shoulders tense, “...when the one who’s name we don’t speak made his silly little news broadcast you felt compelled to bite back at him, despite the fact that you are supposed to still be minimizing attention to yourself.”

“It’s not as though I could have just let him spread lies and slander about…” Alastor starts to mutter, then shakes his head. She’s right, calling out Vox had been a mistake, it drew far more attention to him than meant to. He knows that he had publicly embarrassed the other overlord, and fed into the demon’s pre-existing fears. Because of that he sent a snake to spy on them, and while Sir Pentious may now be a proper resident, it doesn’t change the fact that now there is somebody with a penchant for random destruction loose in the hotel. If Alastor had kept his head down like he was supposed to then he wouldn’t have to worry about the threat of the wrong wall being blown open, even if that possibility is a remote one… “The truth is Rosie, I don’t know why I’ve been like this. Today has been worse than ever, I just keep getting these… thoughts in my head and I don’t know what I’m meant to do about them.”

“What kind of thoughts dear?” Rosie questions, raising an eyebrow.

“I keep thinking about the ba…” he violently shudders as the word ‘baby’ conjures up an image of a pink, squishy, squirming thing spitting up all over his coat. He clears his throat and tries again, “The chil…” And now he’s thinking about a two legged monstrosity coloring on the walls and running around with scissors.

Rosie is admittedly amused watching Alastor struggle. She does not like to see him suffer, but that resentment over a lack of a wedding invitation at times will take pleasure in watching him struggle with the thoughts pertaining to his growing family. Even if it was a logistical imposibility for her to attend, she would have at least liked to have not found out months after the fact, by complete accident no less. He had just failed to tell her until she happened to see his wedding ring.

“I keep finding myself thinking about the… offspring,” the radio demon is not up to date enough on his modern music for his brain to try and make an association image with that, so it’s the term he settles for. “Thinking about how things are going to change. The things are such revolting little creatures, and I keep finding myself thinking about how I’m going to have to care for it.”

“Well, that’s rather normal hun,” Rosie says reassuringly, “to be thinking about the child that is, I’d be a bit concerned about the ‘revolting’ part, but we can work on that later. You’re going to be a dad. You can’t just pretend as though you aren’t.” She glances at the egg minions as they toss their various ‘treasures’ out of the dumpster and onto the concrete. “This isn’t a hypothetical situation anymore. Very soon that child is going to exist, and you will be responsible for caring for it. So, it’s perfectly natural for you to be thinking about them.”

“Well yes, I realize that. I just thought I’d have a little bit longer till these kinds of thoughts started plaguing me,” He sighs. “With her morning sickness I can pretend it is like when she was on the chemotherapy, she has been working very hard to ensure I don’t have to see the… bump, and I was hoping I would be able to put off these nasty little mental conundrums until it reached a point that I’d be… forced to see it.”

The cannibal purses her lips, she seems to be thinking how best to handle this, after all she is the only person he is close enough to to confide in about these things. She wouldn’t want to ruin that bond by calling him out on the utter bullsh*t that he is spewing. This overlord may not yet have children of her own, but she is well aware of the physical and emotional turmoil other women go through in order to build a living being. So, upon hearing that poor Grace has been trying to conceal her baby bump for the sake of her husband’s comfort, rather than focusing on her own wellness and reveling in the fact that her body is currently performing the miracle that honestly makes women the superior gender, well it makes Rosie feel a special kind of rage. The kind of rage that if she was a less proper woman might lead her to smack some sense into her old friend. But, for the time being, she bites her tongue. Telling Alastor how he should be feeling will likely incur the opposite of the intended effect.

“But the truth is… the ‘children are revolting’ part of the impending fatherhood experience isn’t the real problem,” Alastor looks up to the sky, taking in the moon of purgatory and the shining ball that is heaven. Oh how he misses stars. “I think about it certainly but it’s always overridden by something… terribly soft, in a way that I wish I could say I hate, but I don’t. Although I shudder at the thought of them smearing food on their faces at the dinner table, I also am… looking forward to teaching them how to use a knife and fork.” Rosie’s ears practically perk at the way Alastor shifts in his reference of the child, no longer calling it an ‘it’ like something, but ‘they’ and ‘them’ like it’s a soon to be person. “And then, when I start to think about those things I get this absolutely and utterly horrid sensation, a feeling that nearly incapacitates me.”

“What feeling, Alastor?” his friend steps closer to him.

“Fear…” He says it without hesitation, his eyes wide, frightened like a baby deer alone in the forest as he stares up at the orb that is heaven. “What if I’m not good enough Rosie? What if I can not care for them the way they need?” His filter is struggling, earlier today he tried to make himself sound sincere by forcing it to drop, now he’s working his little behind off trying to keep it masking his tone. He already hates opening up, being vulnerable, Rosie, Grace, and Niffty are the only ones who he can crack open his shell around, but this is getting into a depth of his mind that he doesn’t know if he would ever normally expose. Yet he feels compelled to, because if he doesn’t talk about this with somebody then his worries may eat him alive before this child is born. “I have always been able to handle anything the afterlife threw at me, if I could not fight it then I could manipulate it. They’re just… they’re just a baby, sure they will be loud and sticky, but eventually they will be an adult and then I won’t have to worry about those things anymore. But what if… they don't make it that far. What if I fail, and something happens. What if I can’t protect them? Being away from her today has been the worst kind of hell since I’ve gotten down here, despite the fact that I have no real reason to be concerned for their safety, I can’t help feeling this tightness in my chest like something terrible is going to happen while I am away. Even when I am by her side I’m not free of it, this constant… nagging fear that gets so so much worse every time I even begin to think about how being a father might not be as bad as I’m expecting.” Rosie is about to respond, but holds off, she can see his mind is still working, still scavenging deeper into his subconscious to pull out these concerns. If she needed to be his sounding board than she would, she couldn’t just let him go back to his wife with all of this bottled up inside of him. His voice is soft when he speaks again, the filter fully gone, but still the hint of lightness that comes from his radioshow voice rather than his true one, “Or worse yet, what if I… do something wrong… how could I ever look at Gracie again if I f*ck up and kill our child?”

The cannibal taps his arm with her umbrella, so that he looks down at the sky and sees her surprisingly soft smile, “None of us know what the future holds Alastor. Life is messy, and terrifying and sometimes horrible things happen that we can’t do anything to stop. And it’s okay to worry about those things, because it helps keep us on our toes for the things that we can prevent. I can’t promise you that there won’t be some awful tragedy. I wish I could but I’ve been alive long enough to know that things just don’t work that way.” She takes his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “But what I can tell you is this; the fact that you’re worried about all that stuff… the fact that you’re scared… means you’re more ready to be a dad than you think. You know how many people are down here because they neglected their kids? Whole swaths of people who just left a baby in a hot car, starved them, shook them, did all sorts of things that caused irreparable harm? That is not the kind of person you are, not since you met Grace at least, she has made you kind, thoughtful… in a way I never expected to see. So, if something were to happen to your child I promise you it would be by no fault of your own. You’ve got your work cut out for you sure, you’ve grown a lot in the past seven years but you still have a lot more to go to be ready to take on this challenge sweetie. But I promise you, that fear you’re feeling, is perfectly normal, it means you care. You just gotta make sure it doesn’t control you…”

While it has not alleviated all of his stress, not by a long shot, being able to get these things off of his chest has certainly been helpful. Rosie is right, he didn’t used to be this way. He didn’t use to care this much. It’s Grace’s doing and he can’t even hold it against her. But it is so difficult at times to reconcile the differences between who he was before he met her, and who he is now. For the rest of the world he still has to put on the front, the big bad radio demon, the overlord who cares for nobody but himself. Because here in hell there are hundreds, if not thousands of demons who would see this change and smell weakness, blood in the water. He can not let these fears control him.

“Oooh noooo!!!” one of the little egg boys cries out as it begins to fall from the dumpster. The other minions gasp as they watch their brother tumble through the air. And yet there is no cracking or splatting of egg on pavement, but rather a soft, gloved hand cushioning its fall. The little one looks up at his savor with twinkling eyes, meeting the radio demon’s red gaze.

Alastor’s lips curl at the feeling of the disgusting dumpster slime soaking through his glove. He should have caught the thing with his shadow, and yet he acted on instinct.

Instinct…

Chapter 26

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Cold steel pressed to her burning forehead. Adrenaline fueled by terror coursing through her veins. She doesn’t even feel the pain in her shoulder anymore, but she can feel the blood trying to pour out as she presses on the wound. How did it all go so wrong so quickly?

Grace had just been sitting, waiting for Niffty to return. All of a sudden everything was on fire. No that’s not quite right, but it’s what it felt like. Blasts of white hot energy rocketing up from the floor. In the moment all of her weakness faded, and she did the best she could to survive, pushing the table to the corner furthest from the spot that the shots were coming from, and kicking it on its side. She knew she needed help, and despite all her instinct telling her to hide, she made a dash for the bedside table, grabbing the small radio. Her intent was to get back behind the table and signal her husband for help, but she never got to.

Despite her efforts to avoid the main concentration of gunfire, not one, but two shots found her. The first struck her shoulder, if she had vocal cords she would have screamed. It didn’t just feel like a sharp piercing sensation, it burned. She could smell her own flesh cooking as the edges of the wound cauterized from the heat of the blast. She barely had time to process that pain, process the bleeding, before another shot came through the floor and struck her little radio. She should have dropped it, yet as it smoldered she just hugged it closer to her chest as she slid behind the table just as the floor gave way and fell into the hallway below.

While all of that seemed to have happened in slow motion, the next few minutes were a complete blur. She sat hunched behind the table, desperately trying to get the radio working again despite it being nothing more than a smoking piece of casing now, while she listened to the voices explore her room. She could put a name to almost all of them, Niffty had taught her who was who. And yet despite the fact that she and Alastor had both described the cat demon Husker to her, and told her that he would protect her if anything went wrong, it didn’t stop her from feeling a sheer terror when he peeked at her behind the table. Her heart thundered in her chest as she tried to back away from the strange creature. Although in the past she had never been put off by the strange forms that demons take, her being married to one being evidence of that, in that moment where she was just scared and confused and thought she was going to die, all she could see in front of her was a great furry monster.

He tried so hard to hide her as she crawled across the floor to the hole, she was so close to making an escape. But even with the adrenaline in her, her body was still weak. She couldn’t move quickly, crawling with a shoulder wound is no picnic after all. But her whole body was beginning to ache. She felt a new kind of fear as her stomach began to cramp, because while it could certainly be nothing but just her body complaining of exhaustion, she still couldn’t shake the terror that something might be happening to her baby. But she didn’t get to think about it for long, because as soon as it happened the dust began to kick up, and it filled her lungs, making her poor throat burn. Of course she blamed herself for coughing, they were so close and she just had to cough, why couldn’t she have just stayed quiet for one more minute.

The next thing she knew her legs were carrying her as fast as they could. Niffty had gone sailing through the air, the cat was on the ground wrestling with a snake. She moved like her life depended on it, because it almost certainly did. And yet when she saw that drop, she couldn’t do it. Grace already knew her body was frail, already struggling to protect her baby, there was no way she was getting down there without getting hurt, and she didn’t think her uterus could absorb a shock like that without it being the final nail in the coffin for her poor unborn child.

And then it was too late. The only non-neutralized threat had gotten to her before she could make a break for the other exit.

Now she is staring up the barrel of a spiderweb decorated Tommy gun, her eyes locked with those of another strange creature. His soft white and pink fur does nothing to dampen the menacing effect of his cruel expression. The glint of his golden tooth matches the sheen of the pendant that he ‘borrowed’ from her jewelry box while going through her things. And yeah, that’s the last thing that Grace should be worrying about right now, but seeing her great grandmother’s necklace being worn by this demon really is the icing on the f*cking icing on the sh*t cake isn’t it?

All she wants to do is plead, explain she is no threat, beg for them to spare her life. Yet she can not speak, she can only hope that something changes the tide, that these things will show some small amount of mercy, or that somebody will save her. She despises this feeling of powerlessness. Hates that she must always rely on the will of others to determine her fate. It is not supposed to be this way.

In Angeldust’s mind all he can really think about is that this is the second potential threat to have wormed its way into the hotel in the past week, and in the chaos he’s letting his frustration cloud his thinking, “Get up, keep your hands where I can see them… hands UP” She is struggling to comply with her injured shoulder, but manages to get to a standing position with her hands weakly above her head. His voice is low as his gaze darts between her and Husk, who is currently frozen watching them, his green glowing claws hovering above Sir Pentious’ throat. “Let him go asshole, or you get to explain to Al why this chick’s brains are splattered on the wall of his secret room…”

Husker lets off a low cat growl, but pulls away from the snake. “You think I’m the only one who will have to answer to that freak if something happens to her?”

“Angel, put the gun down! We can all talk this.. ou-OW!” As Charlie attempts to talk to the spider, she’s also busying attempting to pry Niffty off of Vaggie’s head. The little maid is still a bit delirious, so she’s just in full fight mode, clawing at the woman’s face and hair, and biting the princess every time her hands get too close.

Vaggie currently can’t contribute much to the conversation. Her focus is mainly on screaming, “f*ck! Get her off!” Over and over. Even the tough girl isn’t immune to the intense pain of Niffty’s incredibly sharp claws.

“You can’t be serious Charlie!” Angeldust starts, head turning so he can look at her while the barrel of the gun drifts. “You can’t possibly think there is good intentions behind Alastor of all f*cking people hiding some girl in the walls of your hotel.”

“I’m OW not saying it’s good intentions,” she snaps at him, “Fine, I’ll admit something f*cked up is going on here. But look at her, does she really look like a threat? Put the f*cking gun OW down!!” She finally gets Niffty off of her girlfriend and holds her away at arms length as the gremlin thrashes and cackles maniacally.

Fight or Flight?

There is no Alastor to save her. His minions have failed. Grace can only rely on herself.

Every living thing on earth has the instinct for self preservation. There are few things in all of creation that can overwhelm that basic thing that is ingrained into each and every one of us. It doesn’t always save the creature, they may choose ‘fight’ and lose, they may choose ‘flight’ and not be fast enough, and maybe neither one will do any good. Sometimes the best option is to sit and wait for things to work themselves out. Or, talk your way out of a situation, that’s what seperates humans from animals after all, their ability to comminucate with one another to sort out a problem. But with her missing vocal chords, Grace might as well be a cornered animal. There’s always the lesser known third option, ‘freeze.’ But like a deer in headlights, that option is perhaps the riskies of all so…

Fight or Flight?

In the heat of the moment, adrenaline pumping through every aspect of her being, mingling with hormones and terror, things get messy. Grace was never a ‘freeze’ type, especially not now that she has to protect the extra little life in her belly. Especially not in a room filled with monsters that have already shown themselves to be incredibly dangerous. In her mind she believes they have already decided her fate. And all she can do is fight against that.

While Angel is looking away, while his gun hand is drifting and unfocused, she feels a long forgotten spark. Her hands are barely above her head, the swirl pattern on her right palm is exposed.

Fight

or

Flight?

She grabs the barrel of the gun with her right hand and suddenly everything is…

Violet

The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the very air they breathe.

“f*ck!” Angeldust manages to yell as his gun becomes insanely hot, he drops it, holding his hand to his chest as his singed fur smolders.

Violet

A light, a feeling, a heat that burns but does not sear.

“Somebody f*cking grab her!” Vaggie calls out, stumbling in what she thinks is the direction where the woman was. But she can’t tell because everything is…

Violet

Like a star has been dropped in the middle of the room, a burning ball of gasses swirling and consuming all of infinity as a fuel source.

Husker can not look away, he should, but it’s impossible. At the center of the swirling violet void is a being of pure light, the cosmos embodied in a singular point of space time. He knows it must be an illusion, the bright power of this energy searing an impossible image onto his retinas. And yet for the briefest of moments he sees…

And then it is done.

All the demons are blinking and rubbing their eyes as the violet flashbang fades. When the white begins to fade from their vision and they can see again, the Tommy gun is a molten pile of scrap metal on the floor. The fibers of the carpet around it are igniting from the intensely high heat.

Grace is halfway to the tunnel. Fight has passed, it’s time for flight. But unfortunately it seems she’s vastly underestimated how long that intense flashbang would incapacitate, and how much it would take out of her. She’s stumbling already, but it’s enough for now.

Husk sees that Vaggie is already on the move, the warrior being more than capable of recovering from a temporary vision impairment. His wings move without him having to think about it, all the dust and debris kicking up around him, leaving Angel and Sir Pentious behind in a smoke screen as he crosses the room. They cough and sputter, still disoriented from the violet light and now inhaling the drywall powder.

Something is different, his body feels light, more powerful than even when Alastor had sent a buff. For just a moment he feels the energy in his veins as he comes between the two women, just as the warrior is about to spear her through the back. He catches the blade in his paw, which is coated in green and violet swirling energies, preventing it from cutting him and allowing him the ability to resist Vaggie’s incredible strength.

Grace falls to her knees at the tunnel entrance. She never stood a chance. Not in her condition. Without her voice she is useless. She could not plead for mercy and amnesty and so she had to run and fight. Now her frail, exhausted body can not hold up anymore. The whole world is spinning around her and she feels like her entire body is on fire.

“ ENOUGH !!” A voice rips through the room with the power of hell’s royal authority behind it. Charlotte Morningstar grasps the shaft of the spear and wrests it from Vaggie and Husker's hands. Her eyes are burning red, her hair floating like a halo as her horns are revealed. “ I will not stand for this in my hotel, not one moment more!” Everybody looks between each other, but they do not move to continue the fray. Charlie gestures to Grace on the floor, who is gasping and shaking, more terrified than ever, as though she had not just displayed a similar level of power not moments ago. “She is clearly not a threat. All of you need to chill the f*ck out!”

Angeldust gestures to the melted gun on the floor, “I would beg to differ…” His mouth snaps shut as the princess turns her intense gaze towards him.

“Charlie, that is a human! A living soul!” Vaggie’s voice is half pleading, wanting her girlfriend to see what she thinks is reason, “A human who was powerful enough to break into hell! That alone makes her dangerous, but the fact that she is clearly friends with Alastor must mean that they…”

“LOOK AT HER!” She doesn’t need her princess of hell voice anymore, her yells are filled with enough fury and desperation that they carry more power than that tone ever could, “SHE CAN BARELY STAND. AND ALL OF YOU ARE ATTACKING HER LIKE SHE’S SOME KIND OF MONSTROSITY.” She takes a deep breath, looking around the room, making eye contact with first Sir Pentious, then Angeldust, “I am so disappointed in all of you, I know my expectations of you are high but… I really can’t believe you would fall so short of them,” then her gaze meets Vaggie, “especially you… you’re better than this… I know you are, and yet…” She sighs and turns around to face Husker. The pair look at each other for a moment, she seems as though she is trying to figure out what to say to him while the others process what just happened. But she doesn’t need to say anything to him, not now anyway. The bartender steps aside, allowing the princess to pass.

Vaggie looks down at her hands, sadness and rage all mixed up in her chest, she knows that the princess is right. And yet she can not help but feel like she once again failed to protect the hotel. She sees threats around every corner, how else is she supposed to react to them? If not with force then… she recalls briefly the act that landed her in hell in the first place. The small moment of mercy that she received unjust punishment for. Why can she not show that leniency anymore? Was that softer side ripped away along with her eye and wings? These thoughts she fears will forever be trapped in her head, unanswered questions, for she can not talk to anybody about these troubles without revealing her own secret. She looks around the room as she thinks these things, how hypocritical is she for assuming all secrets must mean the worst intentions?

Angeldust sneers at Husker, before bending down to look over the scrap metal that was once his favorite gun, it’s going to be a bitch to get another custom made piece again. He could always ask Valentino but… he’s been trying not to ask him for things lately. The spider glances over at the cowering human and for a moment he feels… guilt, in the heat of the moment he had been more blinded, more than the violet energy ever could do. Now he sees that that is no threat, it is just some poor scared girl… how often had he cowered from Val in the same pose?

Sir Pentious is holding the wounds where the cat demon’s claws tore his flesh. He does not feel anger or guilt. Only confusion. A lot has happened in a very short period of time. As he staunches the bleeding and bandages it with his coat he finally has time to think. Whoever this is, she meant a lot to Alastor for him to have smuggled her in and hidden her in this room, then compelled the maid and bartender to fight for her survival. His eyes widen, including the one on his hat, as fear takes root in his heart. She is bleeding, from a wound he gave her. Maybe if he starts running now he’ll have enough of a head start to possibly escape the radio demon’s wrath.

Niffty is… well Niffty is playing with a chunk of Vaggie’s hair that she ripped out… scalp included.

Charlie leans the spear against a wall and looks upon the terrified human, their eyes meeting. “Hey, I’m Charlie…” She steps forward, and Grace tries to shuffle backwards. “What’s your name?” She stretches out her hand, like she’s approaching a feral animal, but she’s just offering to help her stand.

Grace looks upon the princess, her heart still racing, her vision blurring. While this person seems kinder, almost more human than the others, all she can think about is how this being might also seek to harm her baby. The human has almost a ghostly pallor to her as she trembles, sweat dripping down her brow.

Charlie squats down beside her, “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise, can you tell me your…name…” Her voice trails off as she sees the thick surgical scar on the woman’s throat. She’s about to ask if the girl can not speak, when suddenly a small figure brushes past her. Upon nearly losing her balance she has to lean against a wall while watching Niffty bring a wastebasket to the human, luckily the room has those solid walled types, and not one of those wiry ones.

All the muttering and murmuring to themselves that the others were doing stops, the room goes dead silent, and Grace begins to retch and vomit into the wastebasket. Charlie goes a little green at the smell, while the others eventually turn their heads to attempt to give her some privacy.

Niffty, sweet little Niffty, just pats the girl’s back. “There there it’s alright, get it all out…” Her voice is calmer than any of the others have ever heard it, surprisingly so given the day she has had. When her friend seems to be finished she pushes the now sloshing bin a bit down the hall, then returns to the woman’s side. She takes out her handkerchief and gives it to Grace so she can wipe up her face. Then she turns back to the group, and with her voice now returning to it’s ‘normal’ tone, states clearly for everybody, “This is Gracie, she is Alastor’s wife!”

Chapter 27

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor shudders as the dumpster slime soaks through his glove. He gently sets the egg creature on the ground, then looks at all of them. His task has been to get rid of them, and while he still does not know how to achieve that, he does know that he can not let them run around covered in filth. The radio demon looks around the alley while he removes both the filthy glove and its clean counterpart. As the fabric incinerates in a green flame he catches sight of a hose attached to an exterior faucet on the Carmine building.

Rosie watches in silent fascination as Alastor uses his cane to herd the group of egg boys over to that side of the alley. When he picks up the hose she opens her umbrella and holds it in a way that will prevent her from getting splashed.

“Alright… egg things,” the overlord sighs, “Line up.”

The obedient little minions line up in front of their boss, bracing themselves. The water that comes from the hose is surprisingly clean for hell’s plumbing. Carmilla must have her own filtration system for the building. She really could use her engineering skills to do so much good for the people of hell if she wasn’t so focused on the insane profits that weapons manufacturing generates.

While Alastor hoses down the filthy eggs, Rosie decides to divert their conversation towards some of her real concerns. “So, how is your dear Gracie doing?” For the first week that she was in hell, the human woman had been hidden in the attic of Rosie’s shop until Alastor could procure more secure lodgings. That had been the cannibal’s first time meeting her in person, but she knew much about Grace through what her old friend had told her, and from the handful of conversations she’d had with the woman through the radio connection that kept the couple in touch whenever he was down in hell. But when she had first brought the human into her home, Rosie was very concerned to see that she was far sicklier than she had pictured. And while she had always questioned Alastor’s resolve to keep his wife alive, now that the girl is carrying his child she knows it is imperative that Grace hold onto her mortal shell for just a little while longer.

Alastor uses his cane to gesture to the eggs to indicate he wants them to turn around so he can properly hose down all sides of them, “She is… not well… the morning sickness has been hard on her. We were able to acquire some basic medical supplies to stave off dehydration and malnutrition. But it’s palliative treatment at most.” He is quiet for a moment, contemplating how much of his wife’s condition he wants to reveal to Rosie. He shares everything with her, but after the intense moment of vulnerability he just had, he’s not sure if he can handle veering into more of the territory of concerns and emotions.

“So, you’d not figured out why this pregnancy is causing her to be so ill?” The female overlord ponders for a moment, before jokingly offering. “I could send over some high quality organ meat, they say livers and kidneys are great for pregnant women.” She chuckles at the way Alastor’s ears flatten back.

Although he is particularly fond of the type of meat that his friend serves at her shop, he’s often made it very clear that he has no intention of trying to convince or coerce his wife to take part in that lifestyle. He certainly isn’t going to start now, while she’s struggling so much mentally on top of the physical issues.

Rosie waves her hand as though to dismiss her own comment, “Ignore me, you know how I am. Don’t you worry I adore her even if she is a bit of a picky eater.”

Alastor rolls his eyes then turns the hose off, with a snap of his fingers a green towel falls from the sky onto the egg boys, “Luckily I believe we have her stabilized for the time being. But I’m running out of ideas on how to keep her nourished without resorting to… making her eat things she doesn’t want to.” He approaches Rosie again as the eggs dry themselves off. From his coat pockets he produces a spare set of gloves, they are a bit off the colors of his usual color scheme, being more a dark burgundy and light gray than his usual black and crimson, but they will do for now. “I’m… concerned that even if we get the baby to the point where it is developed enough to survive outside the womb that… it won’t be enough for her to… survive as well.”

“Well, would that be a big issue?” She twirls her umbrella so that the water that got on it spins off, then shuts it. “Yes, I know another demon owns her soul. But that just means she’s sure to end up here in hell when she passes.” Rosie watches his shoulders stiffen, he’s struggling to keep his smile up, which is rare even for her to see. “Perhaps once she’s a dead soul it will be easier to find her ‘owner’ anyways, as he’d likely come around to tell her what it is he wants her doing for him. Then you can… deal with him.”

“He’d have the brunt of her powers Rosie,” Alastor’s mind wanders, images of swirling violet energy fill his mind. “Even I don’t know how strong she was really meant to be, so if he has her power source and god knows how many other souls… He could be as powerful as Zestial, maybe even more so. I can’t bank on being able to defeat him in order to regain her soul ownership.”

Rosie hums, “That’s true but… you’ve been making friends with that little princess right? If you continue building your allegiance with her, then feed her some sob story about wanting to save the soul of the mother of your child, and then…” Even she knows it’s a stretch for Alastor to consider such a thing, to debase himself, to plead for help, he’d never do such a thing. Or so the cannibal would have thought. She sees the way his eyes dart away, like he’s ashamed to admit he’s considering it… well, love makes a man do things he would normally never consider. It’s one of the reasons she hasn’t given up on that gender entirely by now, maybe one day she’ll find a man who loves her as much as Alastor adores his Gracie. She tries to lighten the mood while also reinforcing her point. “And hey, if she becomes a dead soul then the two of you don’t have to worry about another little ‘oopsie’ baby. That would be a good thing right?”

The radio demons audibly groans as her comment touches on the thoughts that he was having before the meeting. She’s right, there’d be no more children if she dies, and he should consider that a plus. Anything to avoid another baby would be preferable and yet the thinks that a decade or two, maybe centuries down the line Grace might one day half heartedly mention that ‘it’s too bad they never got to have another kid or two’. It would shatter him, if he’s this weak now after only nine years of knowing her, then he knows that in the way off future if his wife voiced any regrets about not having more kids it would break him. So, Rosie is wrong. It would not be a good thing, even if they never have another child, he can’t stand the idea of the ability being permanently stripped from her when she is only twenty eight. She was already devastated enough when she supposedly lost her child bearing abilities years ago, how could he expect her to go through that twice?

The other overlord’s expression turns from amusem*nt to shock. She had certainly not expected the reaction she is witnessing now. While she can not even begin to imagine the swirl of thoughts that is drowning her friend at the moment, she can at least tell that he is in fact NOT pleased at the point she made.

What is it about Grace? That would make such a man as Alastor change so much in such a relatively short period of time. She remembers how he was when he first started talking about her. She watched him change over time, his voice becoming softer and more full of joy every time he spoke of the conversations he had with the strange human girl he had come into contact with on the surface. But somehow Rosie had failed to see how much he had changed, because this is not something that has just happened suddenly since finding out his wife is pregnant. This kind of softness, this empathy, this willingness to upend his whole philosophy on children… it’s been brewing for a while hasn’t it. A rather impressive feat given that before that he had made almost no change in his personality for about a century, aside from the couple impressions left behind by a certain former associate.

Rosie would tip her hat to Grace… yet she is starting to suspect that it’s not all the girl’s work. Perhaps she did not just change him, but rather uncovered something that had been long since lost. She may never know which is this case. But it pains her to see that Alastor is struggling so much, so she has to wonder if this change really was for the better. She will adore him no matter who he becomes, but after this whole long conversation of watching him be all twisted up inside, she’s almost beginning to resent the human. It’s a touch of jealousy, but also a bit that she misses how he used to be. They used to have long talks about the best way to flambé a piece of thigh meat or where in the pentagram is the best place to raise some absolute terror. It’s a good thing he’s grown, even if he’s still at the painful growth spurt stage of it, but she almost feels like she is being left behind.

She clears her throat, “Well Alastor, whatever you decide is best for her, I will do everything in my power to help you help her.” The cannibal glances to the side, and half mutters under her breath, “Even if I don’t fully agree with the choice…”

Alastor’s ear twitches as he hears the shift in her voice, he too remembers how they used to have such fun together terrorizing any soul or overlord who stepped out of line, “Rosie dear, I know it’s hard to understand my reasoning,” he will always be grateful, for she has supported him no matter the path he chooses in life. But he can hardly blame her for feeling a little sad to see him so focused on somebody other than her and their little adventures reigning in unruly souls across the pride ring, “You are hellborn, so you have yet to experience death, and I hope that you never do. But for us… this is not just the next stage of life.” He takes a deep breath, and holds a hand to his chest, “It’s easy to think that because these forms are our souls made manifest that it means that us sinners are exactly who we were in life but no longer restrained by the limitations of the human form. But I assure you it’s not the case. None of us ever talk about it, I’m not sure most even realize it, but when we die something changes. I believe we lose a piece of ourselves on the way down, the people here who I knew in life are… different… I’m different than I was when I was alive. It’s not an extraordinary difference, but still…”

The hellborn overlord purses her lip, and earlier thoughts come back to the forefront of her mind. Grace being able to change this man so much in such a short time would certainly make more sense if she has more so been bringing back this ‘piece’ that Alastor claims to be missing. But it is a half formed theory, barely worth mentioning aloud.

The sinner overlord continues, “I will love Grace regardless of what becomes of her when she dies, there is no singular part of her being that my love for her hinges on…” He realizes it’s strange how easy it is for him to talk about his love for his wife to another person, and yet he feels so strange and awkward still saying the words ‘I love you’ to her face. “But what if I… don’t love her the same way? What if all this painful growth I’ve been forced to endure for the past years comes undone because she becomes like us? And it becomes too easy to fall into my old habits because they will no longer hinder us?” His eye twitches as he thinks of worse. “And what if when she dies, the part of her she loses is the ability to love me?”

“Oh Alastor…” Rosie reaches out and touches his shoulder, “I don’t think you have to worry one bit about that. That girl adores you far too much for a little bit of soul loss to change that.”

“Maybe… maybe not,” Alastor puts his hand over hers, “Either way, life is… living… breathing… All of it is incredible in its own way. We will have eternity together in our demonic forms, but I don’t want her to lose even one more moment of her life than necessary.” He swallows hard, eyes growing distant for a moment, “She deserves to grow old Rosie, like I never did…”

Chapter 28

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

After Niffty’s big reveal the whole room goes silent for a full minute, aside from Grace coughing to clear some of the remaining bile from her throat, and an ominous creaking sound that may indicate the area is not very structurally sound after Sir Pentious rampage, oh and the crackle of fire.

Fire?

“sh*t!” Angeldust starts stamping out the flames on the carpet that have sprung up from the heat of the molten gun.

Charlie turns to see what is happening, her eyes going wide, but Vaggie is already moving. She grabs the cover off the bed, and drags it into the bathroom. The others hear the bathtub running for a moment then when she emerges again the blanket is soaking wet. With Angel and Sir Pentious’ help they manage to throw it over the flames, mostly putting them out. Mostly meaning that the hot gun is causing the whole thing to steam and smoke. It’s getting hard to breathe in here with that and the drywall dust everywhere.

Grace’s coughing is getting worse, and her eyes are watering.

Charlie moves to help, they’d have to address their concerns over Niffty’s statement later, “Husk, take her down the tunnel, breathing all this in can’t be good for her.” Both the princess and the maid rush over to help try to extinguish the flames.

“Right… right,” Husker turns and approaches the young woman, “Alright… Gracie?… can you stand?”

Grace looks up at him, her emerald eyes shining with fear, then shakes her head. Her body will no longer follow her commands, the adrenaline rush is gone and now she is just exhausted.

The cat demon gets down on one knee, “I’m going to carry you then… is that okay?” He’s trying to force his usual gruffness down, partly because he knows that he has to get on this girl’s good side so that maybe she can save him from Alastor’s wrath, but he also can’t help feeling a twinge of empathy for her. He can recognize the eyes of somebody who feels they have no control over their situation. A bunch of demons just broke into her room after all, raided her belongings, then attacked her, after who knows how many weeks or months of her possibly being trapped in here. He can tell that scooping her up and carrying her away without her permission isn’t going to do anything to build trust between them.

Grace hesitates for a moment. But when she looks over his shoulders and past his wings she can see the chaos behind him. She knows she needs to get away from the fire, certainly they can put it out before it engulfs the hotel, but she needs a few minutes to compose herself before the inevitable barrage of questioning. Eventually she nods.

The bartender leans in, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck and bury her face in the fur on his shoulder. He gets his own arms around her and carefully raises her from the ground. The demon is extraordinarily cautious to not touch her anywhere inappropriate as he adjusts to carrying her. She seems resistant to being carried bridal style, understandably, so he has to allow her to cling to him like a spider monkey with her limbs wrapped around him while he does his best to support her.

As he walks down the tunnel with her Husker can feel her warm blood oozing from the shoulder wound onto his fur, it’s not a heavy bleed but they will definitely have to take care of bandaging her up once they are in a more sterile area. He feels how scrawny her limbs are, and is unable to even begin to imagine what kind of awful things may have happened to put her in this kind of condition. While he hopes it is not Al’s doing, he knows that sick f*ck is capable of awful things. Though he knows the radio demon is more prone to being kinder to women, he still imagines the monster is perfectly capable of starving a captive human girl to this point. But after a minute of carrying her he realizes that there is yet another thing he can feel about her since her torso is against his, there is a strangeness to her body shape.

“Ah f*ck Al…” Husk mutters as he realizes that despite her scrawny frame, the human has roundness to her stomach that hadn’t been noticeable just by looking at her in her loose shirt. “Don’t tell me you… f*ck what have you dragged me into now you bastard?”

Grace sniffles, her hands tightening around his fur. She isn’t sure what he’s talking about, but she doesn’t have a great feeling about it.

Once he exits the tunnel and enters Alastor’s room, Husk decides to keep going, the further he gets from the rest of the hotel crew, the more time he and the girl will have to… at least try to talk. The bartender needs to get his bearings on the situation, so he knows how best to protect Grace. He takes her out of the room and heads down the hall, towards the lobby.

“Okay, Gracie… can I ask you some questions?” Husker is trying to keep his swearing in check in addition to his tone, he knows that his best shot at getting out of this situation with all his parts intact is to get this human to relax and trust him.

She turns her head so that her cheek is resting in his fur and the two can make eye contact. Her mouth moves, and her eyes are intense as she tries to convey something important without her voice.

It takes a bit but he manages to somewhat decipher it, “Gra…Grace? Your name is Grace not Gracie?” She nods vigorously. “Then why did Nif…oh, let me guess, Alastor calls you Gracie, and she was just repeating what she hears?” Another nod. He thinks he gets it, ‘Gracie’ is a pet name and she doesn’t like others using it because it would make it less special when Alastor calls her that, assuming she is consenting to and enjoying her marriage to the radio demon. The alternative that Husker fears is that she is his prisoner and she hates being called Gracie because it’s what her captor calls her.

Husk is careful not to jostle her as he descends the stairs, and is also careful with his choice of words. “I need you to be honest with me, okay? I work for Al, but if…” He takes a deep breath, focusing on his steps for a minute so that he doesn’t trip and drop his cargo. “Niffty said you’re his wife, but if he’s holding you against your will then I’m not going to stand by and be a part of it. I can help you, or… try to at least, that one girl back there is pretty strong, so we could help you get away from him…” He blinks in surprise at how angry she suddenly looks, she’s shaking her head, and her fists are tight in his fur.

Grace hates this, she hates that she can’t just tell people what is going on. She can’t really blame this demon for thinking the worst, she knows how this looks from an outside perspective. But everything would be so much easier if she could just explain herself, and the fact that she knows all those others will soon descend on her with even more questions and theories and… for her whole life her greatest strength was not her magical abilities, it was her voice, her ability to convey her thoughts. One of the reasons she was so willing to be hidden away was because she knew it would be easier, she wouldn’t have to constantly be talked over, wouldn’t have to worry about nobody listening to her just because she doesn’t have vocal chords to stand up for herself.

“Okay okay, calm down I get it.” They’ve reached the lobby now, and he takes her over and gently sits her on the couch by the fireplace. “You aren’t a prisoner then?”

She mouths a very stern ‘No.’

He sighs, “Are you… are you sure?” He takes a step back and looks her over, her condition is horrific, yet Alastor certainly can’t be blamed for all of it, the dirt and blood are the fault of the chaos set in motion by the snake after all.

He doesn’t have to hear her voice to hear the power of the ‘f*ck You’ that she mouths.

“Alright alright, f*cking hell,” Husker groans and heads over to the bar. He grabs the first aid kit from below the counter and a bottle of vodka because he knows that kit doesn’t have disinfectant in it. While he’s separated from her he takes some time to think. It’s not as though it’s impossible for her to actually willingly be with Alastor, but he can’t imagine what type of woman could love a monster like him. Did he hide his true nature from her? Or is she also some sick and twisted freak? Regardless, he was going to have to try and get more information out of her to decide how to proceed. Because Charlie is certainly going to try and send this girl back to the living world, and if that happens Husk will be the one that Al puts the blame on. He’s already in deep enough sh*t for letting her get hurt, if he comes back and his wife is gone, then he can kiss any hope of survival goodbye.

When he returns to the couch, Grace has pulled her bare feet up onto it and is resting her forehead on her knees. She’s running through every possible scenario in her mind, her breathing is ragged as she thinks of every worst case imaginable. They might send her back to earth, which would be a death sentence in her condition without Alastor there to protect her. If they discover she is pregnant then they may force a termination of the pregnancy out of fear of what a child born of an overlord and a human with magical powers may turn out like. What will they do to Alastor? If Charlie is the princess of hell, supposedly more powerful than any sinner, could she be capable of inflicting punishment on him for consorting with a human? Losing her child would be one horrific thing that she can’t stand, but if in addition to that she had to lose her husband to some cruel ‘consequences of his actions’ then she would have nothing left. No child, no husband, no voice. Nothing.

Husk kneels by her side and gestures to her bleeding shoulder, “Can I get that cleaned up for you?” He again asks permission, not wanting to freak her out more by touching her when she isn’t wanting to be touched.

Grace takes a deep breath, then nods, and sits so that he can access it. She’s been so anxious and terrified that she honestly forgot about it, though the moment he dabs a ragged soaked in vodka on it she is immediately reminded. She gasps, opening her mouth as if to scream in pain, but there is no noise.

Husk does his best to be gentle, not just because this is Alastor’s wife he’s treating, but because even he knows you shouldn’t be rough with a lady, “Did Al do that? Take your voice?” He thinks about the overlord’s history, the way he ripped demon’s screams from their bodies and broadcasted them. Is she a victim of this?

She shakes her head, but can not explain.

“Were you like this before you two met then?” Husk asks.

She shakes her head again, and raises up a hand and signals ‘1’ with it.

He looks and thinks for a moment, “One… One month? One year…?” She nods. “You lost your voice a year ago?” She wobbles her hand in a so-so motion. “About a year?” Another nod. “Alright then, and how long have you known Alastor?” It’s hard to do with him cleaning and bandaging her shoulder, but she manages to use both hands to hold up nine fingers. “Nine years… that’s quite a…wait. Are you the reason he disappeared for seven f*cking years?”

There is a pause, as her eyes dart to the side. Grace knows that her husband wouldn't want any of his personal details revealed to anyone, especially a subordinate. But if she’s honest with Husker then maybe that will get him to believe that she’s not some Stockholm Syndrome prisoner of his. Though to be fair how exactly would one prove that the reason they are with a person isn’t because of that? Anything she ‘says’ to convey that she loves her husband and is with him willingly could be misconstrued as her mind being broken into being convinced that she loves him. These thoughts are running through her head but she doesn’t have time to dwell on them. So she just nods again.

“So he was up on the surface for seven years, how was he not caught or something?” Husk asks in disbelief as he finishes tieing off the bandage.

She shakes her head and tries to explain, but without her voice there is no way to convey that it was a regular trip type thing, and he was keeping his head low whenever he was in hell so nobody would know he had a ticket to the surface.

Luckily the bartender understands that that is too complex a question, and they don’t have the time to talk on it right now, so he moves on to his next. “Alright then, and how long have you two been married then?” He has a much bigger question on his mind, but he fears that if he jumps straight into it that she won’t be honest, so he’s still trying to build her trust.

She holds up four fingers with one hand and makes another so-so motion with the other.

“About 4 years?” Husk asks, and is given a nod in response. He sees the ring on her left hand for the first time, it looks familiar, and he begins to try to remember when the last time was that he saw Alastor with his gloves off. He might have noticed a ring and just ignored it in the past, as it’s not a traditional looking wedding band, and could have just mistaken it as a quirky part of his ensemble.

Suddenly his ears twitch, he can hear conversing in the halls above, the rest of the group is on the move and he is running out of time. He has so much more he wants to ask the woman before they are ambushed by whatever insanity those demons are about to bring, but he only has time for one more line of questions.

Husker takes a seat beside Grace, tucking his wings in a way that he won’t sit on them, and looks her in the eyes. “I need you to be honest with me on this one, because I can’t help you or Al if you aren’t honest, and if I can’t help you then Al is going to probably f*cking kill me so…”

She nods to convey that she understands, she does not doubt that her husband would inflict a horrific punishment upon this poor demon if he fails to fix this situation, so for now he is her best ally. While Niffty is certainly on her side, she suspects that the little maid will not be able to do much in terms of assisting to convince the others of anything.

The cat takes a deep breath, and asks, “Did Al bring you down here… because you’re pregnant?” The way her eyes immediately begin to water is all the confirmation he needs, confirmation that the strange shape he felt while carrying her was a baby bump. He mutters, repeating to himself what he said before, “f*ck… Al what have you gotten me into?” He watches the way the woman wraps her arms around her stomach, protectively. He’s surprised that with her clear physical frailty that she can even carry a child… although perhaps that would explain why she is in such bad shape. “Is he forcing you to…” He gets a response before he finishes the question, and it’s far more forceful than he was expecting.

The palm of her hand connects hard with the side of his face. Far harder than would be expected from a human in her condition. Grace leans back, hot tears in her eyes. She already knows it was an overreaction, but she is exhausted, not just physically, but mentally. She is tired of not being able to explain concisely. She is tired of false assumptions, and they’ve barely begun. The woman knows that as soon as the rest get down here she is going to be bombarded with more accusations and presumptions and she won’t be able to defend herself. So this fuzzy demon accusing her husband of forcing her to carry a child, after she’s spent weeks trying to cope with the fact that he barely wants the kid… it’s too much for her.

“f*ck…” Husker hisses, his tail bushing up, he really hadn’t been expecting that. “Alright, sorry for trying to make sure you’re o…” He stops as he watches her begin to cry. It’s silent, and yet he can feel the sound of her sobs, the mix of anger and sadness and fear. The more sensible option becomes clear in his mind. Alastor hates children, Husk knows this, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to force his ‘wife’ to have a baby. If this girl has known him for nine years then she too would know of his feelings about kids. And while the radio demon is not known for being forced to do anything he doesn’t want to do, Husk can imagine it’s possible that this poor human is terrified of her husband rejecting their baby. Why on earth would he allow this woman to continue the pregnancy anyways?

He can’t even begin to imagine the machinations of his master’s mind. How did they get into this situation? Why is he so desperate to protect her while she is carrying a child he probably doesn’t even want? Unfortunately, Husker doesn’t have much sympathy for Grace at the moment. She chose to marry a demon. And not just any demon, one of the worst that hell has to offer. Husk is not a complete monster, he does not wish to see a woman cry. But he simply can not fathom how to feel bad for her when she is apparently capable of loving the overlord that has caused him an immense amount of pain and anguish

Chapter 29

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

A little over 4 years ago

It took a lot of work to get Alastor into this hospital room so he could be by Grace’s side. Hiding a summoning sigil nearby was the surprisingly easy part. Since this was the hospital that Brian, Grace’s astonishingly supportive roommate, worked at, he was able to smuggle in the necessary supplies to get one set up in a supply closet across from the room. Of course there was the concern about it being discovered, but the underfunded hospital only had three janitors rotating shifts on this unit, and none of them were particularly religious. Brian was buddy enough with them to get them to ignore the demonic sh*t going on in exchange for some favors that Alastor never really learned the details of. He and the human man may have not been ‘besties,’ but the demon did admire his ability to strike deals. If the guy ends up in hell, then Al might just take him under his wing as a thank you for everything.

Normally there might have been a concern that with Grace’s declining health she wouldn’t be able to maintain the sigil’s power, or that powering it would cause her to weaken even faster. But, it had been determined years ago that there is little connection between the girl’s magical ability and her physical self. Though it could drain her stamina a bit, the woman could potentially drop a violet nuke, if she had access to that much power, and it wouldn’t negatively impact her health.

The final touch was the tricky part. A sacrifice that had to be made, a sacrifice that if Alastor had his way nobody will ever know was made. The power to create a human disguise is costly, there are hellborn who can pull it off with a bit of practice, but for a sinner to walk around with a human face… it requires negotiating with their patron. After all, their demonic forms were meant to be a punishment for their crimes, it would be rather redundant of any of them could just put on a human face and forget about it. The overlord had already leashed himself to a higher power in order to travel to the living world, so he had not been eager to hand over even more of himself. Which is why for her first fight with cancer he had never visited while she was in the hospital, those stays only ever lasted a day or two, treating dehydration when she had become too ill. But this time, this second run against the dreaded disease, she was spending more and more time in a lonely hospital room. First it was a couple days out of the month, then a two week stretch here and there.

Grace always came home weak and sad. She wouldn’t speak much of it, not wanting to make him feel bad about not being there. But Alastor knew that without him, the only visitor she had was Brian, no family, no friends. Occasionally a former coworker from one of her previous jobs would swing by, but it was always a clear case of that person trying to feel better about themselves in some way by pretending that they cared about somebody other than themselves. It was after the third long stay in a six month stretch that Alastor realized that he had to do something. Renegotiating his deal with his patron was something that he had to back and forth about for a long time. If a version of himself from before he met Grace found out what he was doing, that self would have eviscerated him for giving up so much of his freedom for a woman. He still doesn’t know why he did it, how he could have possibly fallen so hard for a human that he was willing to basically become his patron’s dog in exchange for a human disguise. At the time he justified it, he was already bound to that person, so why not sacrifice a little more if it meant being able to comfort his lover while she’s in the hospital? And he never once regretted the choice.

Maybe it was sentimentality? When he stepped in front of a mirror he was surprised at how different he looked. Was it how he looked when he was alive? He couldn’t remember anymore. The red eyes were definitely different, but he recognized the nose, his mother’s nose, he had forgotten he had his mother’s nose. At first he couldn’t fathom why that feature had changed in his demon form, shouldn’t his human-like features have stayed the same as when he was alive? But quickly he realized, it was because it was his mother’s characteristic, everything he liked about his appearance had been stripped away, all the parts that reminded him of the only woman he loved. The only woman before Grace.

On this night they were coming up on three weeks since she’d been admitted after collapsing in her kitchen. Luckily Brian had been there and was able to swiftly get her to the hospital, but things were beginning to look dire. Alastor was sitting in the bed with Grace, allowing her head to rest on his chest as they leant back on the inclined bed. The room was dark, quiet aside from her ragged breathing and the steady beep of the strange monitor she was hooked up to. He didn’t understand this modern medical stuff, he tried once to read the details on the screen, watch the little line go up and down, but it just made his head hurt on top of the stress he was already enduring.

The demon felt like the air was heavy, it made his chest feel tight, a feeling that forced him to drop that constant giant smile. He was too focused on her to maintain his oh so important facade. Feeling the life slipping away from his darling Gracie was too much to bear. Her body was frail, her skin pale, eyes sunken. Her beautiful brown locks had been lost months ago, leaving her almost skeletal like in his arms. She was still the most beautiful being he had ever the pleasure of laying eyes on, but the coldness of her weakened body terrified him. She reminded him of the bodies of his victims as he sunk them beneath the murky swamp waters.

Grace was listening to his chest, the one comfort she found was in that strange little radio in place of his heart. She still hadn’t told him that she could hear it, that it broadcasted his feelings. But at the same time, she felt like he probably already knew. That maybe it was why his favorite way to hold her was like this. At this moment it was playing sad little tunes, and occasionally she would try to hum along, but was usually interrupted by a painful fit of coughing.

Even with a constant stream of morphine, everything still hurts. Not just her throat, where the tumor had wrapped itself around her esophagus, but every cell in her body ached and screamed for a merciful release from the seemingly eternal torture. Although the cancer was responding to the chemo and radiation, it wasn’t doing so fast enough. The treatment was killing her slowly, and it’s become a question of which will be destroyed first, the illness, or her body. It was a gamble, because without the treatment she will die anyways, but at this rate she was beginning to think that might be preferable to the agony being inflicted on her by modern medicine. That morning the doctors said that she probably has a week before she’ll have deteriorated too much to be saved. If things don’t turn around in the next seven days, then she will certainly die. And the girl hadn’t told Alastor that yet, she had no idea how to.

Grace didn’t have much strength to speak these days, especially with the tumor choking out her voice. But she could get a little conversation in here and there. Each day Alastor lived for those few moments where she could say something, anything to him, just so he could hear it one more time. Each time he was terrified it may be the last time he hears her speak, hears this voice anyways. Because she did not have the energy for conversation most nights together were spent watching videos on her phone, he didn’t care any more about how the technology reminded him of that arrogant bastard, he just wanted the simple joy of seeing a sparkle in her eye at an adorable cat video. Sometimes he wanted to just talk to her, tell her things, but for once in his life he had nothing to say.

The blinds were pulled back, allowing the silver-white glow of moonlight to spill across the bed. Around 2am Alastor noticed that her gaze had drifted away from the phone screen, and she was staring up at the sky. He didn’t say anything at first, instead focusing on the stars, trying to figure out what she was seeing.

Eventually he brought his lips down to the top of her head, gently kissing before speaking, “What are you looking at my dear?”

It took a moment for her to respond, and when she did it was a delirious sort of muttering, a string of incoherencies and something about ‘home.’

The overlord chuckled weakly, “Is this how you decide to finally tell me you’re an alien my dear? Does E.T need to phone….” He sighed, not having the willpower to finish the joke.

Grace didn’t say anything in response, instead was quiet for a while. She was so tired, in so much pain, it was impossible to focus for any period of time, and yet something about the starscape really did captivate her gaze.

Alastor was holding one of her hands, their fingers intricately intertwined. He pulled her hand up so he could rest his lips on her knuckles in a long gentle kiss, while he thought about things. The joke he made, E.T., he only knows the film because she showed it to him. He still had an aversion to garbage that is usually aired on television, but she had good taste in films. Sometimes when they would watch them together, the demon would feel himself pulled back to when he was a child, and his mother saved up extra pennies to take him to see a moving picture show for his birthday. Throughout the years Grace had managed to pull all sorts of memories like that from him. It made him feel… safe… human.

Suddenly the woman spoke up, her voice shaky and weak, but clear enough to be understood, “I… want to say that I feel like I’m dying, but I’ve never actually died before. So, I don’t know what death feels like, I could be dying… or I could just be feeling really really sh*tty.” Each word was delivered slowly, her voice was so rough but she managed to get through the whole statement.

Alastor squeezed her hand, “Well, I assure you, you’re not dying.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but this damn human form made it so easy for his facial muscles to succumb to his true emotions, he despised it. “You are not allowed to die, so everything will be okay.”

Grace’s response was a laugh that quickly became a wet, hacking cough, but once she had her breath again she replied, “I don’t think that’s how it works my love.”

His only response was to hold her tighter. She didn’t tell him that it made her bones hurt, she just enjoyed the feeling of being close to him. The pair sat and watched a wispy cloud float across the moon, casting a shadow for a few minutes, before disappearing into the dark blue of the night.

Her body was relaxed against his, “What was death like?”

Alastor tensed, “How do you mean dear?” He knew what she meant.

Her eyes were half closed as she stared off into the distance, “What was it like to die?” She knew that he knew what she meant.

Of the many things that the couple had discussed regarding Alastor’s life and afterlife, he had always withheld the details of his death. It was not for shame or anything like that, he merely did not like to reminisce on the moment that the bullet passed through his skull. And despite her immense interest in his past, Grace had never pushed for his manner of death. She avoided the topic for his sake, until this moment.

He took a deep breath, and decided very quickly that there was no need for the truth. What she needed was something comforting. The radio demon could take the brunt of her being angry at him for lying when they reunited in hell. Though he never stopped to think if it was really his choice to make, to decide if she needed truth or comfort.

Alastor gently adjusted their positions, careful not to pull out any of the tubes or wires, so that he could properly look her in the eyes, “It was like going to sleep. But warmer. Everything went very dark, then very quiet. And I thought someone was picking me up. And then a little while later I woke up in hell.”

It was of course the furthest thing from the truth. He wasn’t being picked up, he felt unseen hands dragging him down. As he passed into perdition he felt as though his skin was being peeled off as he transitioned to his new demonic form. Everything burned, everything was loud, everything was awful.

He looked at his hand, this fake human hand, and remembered the first time he looked and saw the gray skin and claws of his new body. But the way he had just described it to Grace, was how he always imagined that death would be like on the way to heaven. And if it were up to him, she’d never have to experience what he did. If it were up to him she wouldn’t go until they had freed her soul and could guarantee her a ticket through the pearly gates. Even if it separated them, he knew that he could never provide her an afterlife in the underworld that would be as nice as the paradise of heaven, the afterlife she deserved.

Of course even if they did free her soul, she would likely be barred from the clouds beyond due to her having had premarital relations with a demon. If he had known back then that he would come to care so much about her place in the afterlife, Alastor wonders if he would have resisted the relationship with her in order to protect her from being damned. For a moment his mind dwelt on the ‘premarital’ part of the equation, but before he could focus too long on it, he was interrupted by her rasping voice once more.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad then,” she knew he was lying, but she didn’t mind, “at least I would finally be able to properly join you…”

“But it’s not your time yet,” he said quickly. “You still have so many things to do. So much life you haven’t lived.”

“It’s okay,” Grace said weakly, “I don’t need to do everything I could do. I’m so tired, I don’t have the energy for anything else.”

“That’s just the illness,” Alastor kissed the top of her head again, the smooth skin cold. He needed to get her to put one of those head wraps on, but she was always pulling it off by accident. “When you get better you’ll have the energy to do lots of things.”

“Like what?” The woman took several deep breaths before continuing. “What could I do that’s worth putting up with this pain for any longer.”

He didn’t say anything at first. What could he say? He couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of anguish she was in. And he couldn’t say the first thing that came to mind. He didn’t have the will to say it out loud. ‘You could get married…’

So instead he said, “I don’t know. But I promise, you don’t want to get down there and regret there having been something you didn’t get to do up here.”

“I won’t have any regrets as long as I have you.”

Alastor opened his mouth, as though he might say something, but no sound came out. What do you say to that? To a dying woman. To the woman you love.

So instead they just sat in silence again, watching the moon and stars. More clouds rolled across the sky, slowly obscuring them until the room was more shadows than moonlight. But the man did not need to see them, for his true moon and stars, his sun, his glimmering violet nebula was in his arms.

Grace’s mind was nowhere, she was too exhausted to think about anything beyond the sound of his ‘heart.’ It was playing a familiar tune. “Come dance with me,” she whispered, unable to bring her voice to sing the melody, “When the night has fallen come and… dance with me…”

Alastor hummed, “When you’re feeling blue and lost come… dance with me…” He smiled softly as they ‘sung,’ together, their silly little song. “Until the stars burn out we shall spin across the sky,” but it faded as her voice did, her recitation of the lines becoming incredibly slow, barely enunciated. “Until there’s nothing left but you and I… oh… dance… with me…” And then it was just him, humming and holding on to her. “Dance with me and we shall see the world collapse or rise. It all depends…on us…” He choked on the words, but continued to hum it while his chest played the song.

Grace had become very still. Her chest was not rising. She made no sound.

Alastor’s entire being was falling to pieces. He was not ready. She can’t be gone, no. No. No.

Her half lidded eyes still stared at the night sky, still fixated on a point in space. The green gems were dull, almost glassy.

He squeezes her hand. His throat constricted. This can’t be real.

He just wanted the nightmare to end. This was never how it was meant to go. She was supposed to live, live and be by his side. Live and teach him about the world. Live and help him remember who he was.

Flashes of his mother’s corpse play in his mind. The way her lifeless body felt in his arms.

Not again, please not again.

She was supposed to live.

An impossible noise of pain came from deep within his body.

And then the world stilled as she took a shuddering breath.

Alastor practically collapsed into her, listening to her breathing, taking in the sensation of what little life there was still within her. The man was reduced to a boy as he choked out sobs of relief, as tears poured down his cheeks. Had he ever cried? Even when his mother died, he wasn't sure, did he cry? He must have, right? And yet this moment feels like the first time tears have ever come for him.

Grace weakly squeezed his hand, and brought the other up slowly to his cheek, “Why are you crying darling?”

“Why are you crying, boss?”

Alastor snaps back to the present, and looks down at his feet. An egg is standing there. He realizes this specific egg is Frank.

“What?”

“Why are you crying, boss?” The egg repeats, he is holding his top hat to his chest.

A single teardrop had come to roll down the radio demon’s cheek, it was not quite clear like a human one, but has a silver like quality to it. He quickly wipes it away as he looks at the creature with his wide smile and furrowed brows.

“You’re mistaken, I merely had something in my eye,” his voice is strong, smooth, the emotion almost undetectable. He looks around the alleyway, luckily it seems nobody has snuck up to catch the moment of weakness. He is alone aside from the eggs. Rosie had left to attend to her own business, as the cannibals can not be left alone for long periods of time before one or two of them will begin to regress. This was why he found himself reminiscing on such a memory while waiting for Frank to finish reconnaissance. The end of his conversation with his friend had left him in a particular mood, and now he is stuck, terrified that he is about to experience all of that all over again, but worse. “So, what did you hear?”

Frank responds quickly, not wanting to get his shell shattered for dwelling on the wrong thing, “First the old guy was like, ‘you’re not yourself, you’re/ the one that killed the angel’ a-and the she was all whatever it takes~”

“What was thta last thing?” Alastor leans down, bringing his facex very close to the strange creature.

“She… killed the angel?” He was trembling, his insides scrambling with this piercing red gaze so close to his.

“Interesting…” the radio demon stepped back again, “Let’s keep this between us, shall we?” His voice becomes incredibly intense, some of his earlier emotions leaking out perhaps?

Frank salutes, “You got it boss!”

This could work out in his favor. Though he does not want to rush into things, he realizes that he could use this as an emergency back up. Carmillia is a mother, he doesn’t need to hear some silly song to know how important her daughters are to her. So, if the worst comes to pass, and Alastor needs to make any move necessary to protect his family, then there is something he can do. He can speak to Carmine, overlord to overlord, and appeal to her motherly instincts. Reveal that he too has a child to protect, and ask her to share with him the tools necessary to do that.

He sighs, twisting his cane in his hands. That could work, it could definitely work.

The radio demon stands tall and begins to walk out of the alley, the egg boys following close behind. Then his shoulders slump, and he nearly cusses to himself in frustration.

He had forgotten to ask Rosie about those botany books.

Chapter 30

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Husk and Grace look up towards the top of the stairs as the sound of the rest of the group’s conversation nears. The whole gang is covered in soot and drywall dust now after the whole ordeal. They haven’t had much time to discuss what’s just happened, as soon as they put out the fire properly Niffty had started bossing all of them around, telling them to gather things that she believed Grace would need. So they’ve only just begun talking while on their way down to the lobby.

“I’m just saying,” Angeldust has a bundle of clothing in his arms as he walks, an outfit picked out by Niffty so that Grace can have something to change into, “Maybe it would be a good idea to invest in some fire extinguishers, we could have saved the bed if we had the right tools to put out the blaze.”

“Seriously? You think a fire extinguisher would have stopped molten metal from setting the room on fire?” Vaggie rolls her eyes as she leads the way down the steps. She has several bags of Grace’s saline and nutritional supplements carefully cradled in her arms, picked out from the medicine cooler by Niffty as well. She is being gentle with the meds, as the last thing she wants is for the maid to go into feral cat mode again and rip out even more of her hair. “And why are you so worried about the bed that was being kept in Alastor’s f*cking secret room? Honestly, it’s like you don’t even get how f*cked this situation is.”

“Well, no, but it would have been easier to mitigate the damage till we got enough water on it to cool the thing down,” Angel shrugs, “It was a nice bed, better than any of the ones you guys have put in the real rooms. I was thinking I could have snatched it for my place if you end up kicking this chick back topside where she belongs.”

Grace reaches out and grabs Husk’s arm, her fingers gripping the soft fur as her chest tightens. She looks at him, shaking her head, she can’t go back up there, it’s too dangerous.

“It’s alright,” the bartender mutters, “You ain’t going nowhere unless Alastor says so, I promise.” A pretty tough promise to keep, he’s going to have to stave off any rash decisions from the group until his master gets back, and he has no idea when that will be.

Sir Pentious is lugging the IV stand, it’s a difficult task with his injured tail, and getting it down the stairs without tripping is nearly an impossible task. He opens his mouth, about to say something, but is interrupted by Charlie, who has just seen that Grace is on the couch.

“Oh my gosh, okay okay okay,” She rushes down the stairs, bumping into the snake and causing him to topple down the remaining steps in a spectacularly comedic fashion. But Charlie, who often gets tunnel vision in intense or exciting situations, doesn’t even call back a ‘sorry’ or anything as she rushes over to the human, “Hi! I’m Charlie. Wait, I told you that already…” She stands in front of the pair, oblivious to the way the woman shrinks away from her in fear.

Although Grace knows that the princess is the kindest of the lot, her whole mind is still caught up in terror after everything that’s happened. She can only perceive the other woman as a potential threat, and Charlie’s loud, energetic voice isn’t as soothing as she thinks it is.

“I am so so so so sorry about everything that’s happened, I feel really bad that this was the way we had to meet but…” She looks around the room at all the others, “we’ve all been a little on edge lately and I think in the chaos everybody just lost their cool a little bit. But I talked to them all about how good people don’t attack somebody who is running away and I’m going to add lessons about de-escalation to my planner because I don’t know how I didn’t realize before now that with sinners being used to violence we’re going to have to teach them how to handle things in a nonviolent way so really I should be thanking you for opening my eyes to the glaring hole in my redemption lesson plans and…”

Grace stares at her, wide eyes, only half taking in the word vomit that is spilling from the princess’ mouth. Her only clear thought is, ‘oh my god it’s like Niffty… except everything is bullsh*t…’ Which might have been a little rude if she said it out loud, but she’s had a very tough day so she’s allowed to think a couple not nice things. She watches as the others sort of gather around her as the woman talks, all of them kind of just looking at her with various degrees of confusion, disgust, and apprehension.

“Now a lot of your room was kinda destroyed in the fire…” Charlie laughs nervously, “but it didn’t spread over to the side where it seemed like all your personal belongings were, the clothes might be a bit smoky but it should wash right out.

Angeldust mutters, half under his breath, “Wouldn’t have even been a fire to worry about if she hadn’t melted my f*cking gun…”

Charlie’s eye twitches, and she elbows the spider demon in his ribcage, harder than she would normally lay hands on somebody, but she’s a bit more stressed than usual, which is quite a feat given her usual high strung state of anxiety. But like everybody else in the room she had been considering the various implications of what had just unfolded in the past… less than an hour. She side-eyes Angel, then looks down at the clothes in his arms, then back up at him.

“Oh, yeah… right,” he approaches Grace, and holds out the bundle of clothes, careful to keep as much distance as he can, “Since you got all dirty and were bleeding, Nifty thought you might want a change of clothes…” Charlie clears her throat loudly, and the p*rnstar sighs, “and I’m ‘sorry’ for holding a gun up to your head.”

The human carefully takes the pile of clothes and looks at them, then back up at him. He’s still wearing her necklace, and while she’s not particularly attached to it, it is a family piece so she’s a little… miffed. There are so many other things to be worried about right now, but all she wants is to rip it off his stupid neck, or maybe strangle him with it but that’s a thought that’s oddly violent for her so she pushes it away. She doesn’t need to go making things any more tense, so she decides she can deal with the necklace situation later.

Niffty approaches her human friend and holds out her hand, “We have a restroom over there! Let me help you get cleaned up Gracie!”

Grace can’t help smiling softly at the little cyclops, taking her hand as she stands. For a moment she pauses and looks around at the others, as though they might try to stop her, but they all either avoid looking at her or gesture for her to go on. The maid has to stretch her arm upwards to hold on as she guides the girl across the lobby. Everybody watches as she struggles to walk in her condition, but nobody says anything.

Vaggie has begun to wrap Pentious’ tail using the remaining supplies from the first aid kit that Husk left nearby. She is unusually quiet, trying not to snap and make the situation worse, despite how badly she wants to scream about how f*cked up this whole state of affairs is. The snake is glaring daggers at Husker the whole time he’s being treated for his injuries.

“The f*ck is your problem?” Husk stands, heading back over to the bar so he can get himself a drink.

“I think I dessserve an apology!” Pentious says with a hiss.

“An apology for what?” The cat rolls his eyes as the other demon gestures to his injured tail. “You f*ckwads started sh*t, I was just doing my job.”

“And what job iss that exactly?” Pentious’ voice is very aggressive, they never did get to do that trust building stuff today, in fact everything that has happened so far has really just built animosity. “Lassst I checked your job was to man the bar, not to attack guestsss.”

Husk swipes a bottle off a higher shelf then he usually drinks straight liquor from, “Listen here. I work for Al. As much as I hate that sack of sh*t, I have to do what he tells me. So if he says work at a sh*tty bar for a sh*tty hotel, I do it. If he says protect some girl he’s hiding away, I gotta do it. I don’t exactly like the idea of having my voice ripped out to be broadcasted, so yeah, I ain’t sorry for hurting you cause I’ve got other sh*t to worry about.”

Charlie deflates a little at hearing him refer to her hotel in such a manner, but keeps her mouth shut.

“Soooo,” Angel sits in the nearby armchair, folding one leg over the other and lounging back, “Is that Niffty’s ‘lady in the walls’ then?”

Husk grunts in confirmation as he uncaps a bottle and sniffs it. “Apparently Nif discovered her by accident. Obviously she ain’t too good at keeping secrets so I had to come up with lies to cover for her when she slipped up.”

“Riiiight, so then…” the spider glances at the restroom door, “what happened to my drugs then? Cause that chick may be scrawny, but she ain’t co*kehead scrawny you know?” He points to his mouth, “Her teeth are way too nice for her to be a druggie.”

“Honestly I don’t know, if Nif found them then she probably didn’t know what they were,” the cat takes a swig straight from the bottle, then shudders, he’s an alcoholic but usually the sh*t he drinks is cheap, it’ll burn on the way down but in a different way than what the higher proof does, so he isn’t use to the feeling. “She was probably just trying to bring the girl things to be nice to her, but was just grabbing whatever she could bring through the vents.”

“Vaggie, you were complaining about your protein bars going missing,” Charlie glances at her girlfriend, “Niffty has access to all of our rooms so she can clean, she was probably swiping them.”

Unfortunatly, bringing Vaggie into the conversation means that now she can’t bite her tongue anymore, “Are we not going to talk about the giant f*cking elephant in the room? That is a living f*cking human being. How the f*ck did she get down here?!” She takes a deep breath and clenches her fists. “She’s clearly got some kind of powers so Alastor’s probably got her down here as part of some sinister plan to take over hell!” She sneers at Husk, “I can not f*cking believe you and Niffty took part in hiding a human down here, do you have any idea how f*cked up that is?!”

Husker shrugs as he reapproaches the group with his bottle, “I had no idea she was human, if I had then yeah I probably would have found a way to say something without him catching me and getting pissed, but all I knew was that it was supposedly his wife.” He leans against the couch and takes another drink, it goes down smoother this time, “As for Niffty, ya’ll were real quick to dismiss her ‘lady in the walls’ comments with some real sh*tty lies, so would you honestly have believed her if she had been saying there was a human down in hell?” The cat does think to himself a bit about the fact that Alastor also failed to mention that the woman he was hiding is pregnant, that seems like pretty important information, but he’s not sure if he should bring that up to the rest of the group yet. The girl seemed pretty terrified about the idea of them all knowing, and he can’t blame her. He can think of at least one person here who’s response might be to try to obliterate the abomination in her womb.

“Well, I’ll admit he’sss right about one thing,” Sir Pentious points out, “You all take that little one about as ssseriously as I take my egg bois.”

“Shhhhhh, everybody shhh,” Charlie’s eyes widen and she gestures for everybody to be quiet as Grace and Niffty emerge from the restroom.

Though the human doesn’t appear to be doing much better, she’s at least cleaner. Niffty had taken the time to wash her hair and help her wipe down her skin a bit in the sink to get all the powdery residue from the collapsing room off of her. The clothes that the cyclops picked out are also much warmer than the pajamas she was wearing before, which only slightly helps her with how she feels like she’s freezing. At least it covers up her bandaged shoulder, for now.

Grace looks down at Niffty nervously, before crossing the room towards the group. Her steps are slow, one foot dragging a bit behind the other, she’s not necessarily injured, but her whole body is weak and she’s in a lot of pain from her shoulder. She isn’t even aware of how her uninjured arm is wrapped around her stomach, an instinctive need to protect it taking over without her consent. But the woman feels as though she can’t show any weakness, and can't let them know that the violet blast from earlier was all the stored up energy she had at the moment. She just has to stall until her husband gets back.

“Hi!” Charlie is both excited and nervous at the same time, she loves meeting new people even if it’s under horrible circ*mstances. “How are you feeling, better?”

The human glances at Niffty again, then nervously holds up her phone so the princess can read a message she has typed out.

-please dont be mad at Al, he wsa just trying to keep me safe. its what he thought was bset to protect me…-

She can feel Vaggie’s imposing stare, she is standing with her arms crossed, watching Grace’s every move, evaluating her.

“Well we… we can talk about that…” Charlie laughs, nervously again, “He really shouldn’t have been keeping this kind of secret from me you know? And I just… we, just want to make sure you’re okay.” She glances around at the others, “we need to understand why you’re here… before we can decide if he was in the wrong.” She is using ‘we’ in an attempt to deflect, ultimately the decision for how this all plays out falls on her, not because it is her hotel that Alastor brought this living soul into, but because he brought the girl into her domain. It’s her job to take care of the citizens of hell, and Vaggie is right, this girl has some serious magical juice going on, so if she’s part of some plan to hurt people then… It's Charlie’s duty to put a stop to it.

“Hold on!” Niffty waves her arms to get the others attention, “Before all of you start asking all your silly questions,” she points to the IV stand nearby, “we need to get that set up! She is very tired and needs her medicines!”

Grace nods, her head is still spinning, some fluids may help with her exhaustion and injuries. She takes a seat on the couch, keeping her gaze in her lap, while Niffty switches from maid mode to nurse, setting up the things that she had the others bring down from the secret room.

Angeldust is pretending to send messages on his phone, trying to keep up an aloof act so that the others can hopefully not tell that he’s freaking out. The spider was the one closest to the violet blast after all, his skin is still scratchy from the exposure, like it gave him a mild sunburn.

“So, what are our thoughts on why she’s here?” He asks, somewhat knowing that it’s not fair to talk about her when she can’t respond in an efficient manner, and not really caring, “I’m thinking she’s some kind of sex slave. I mean with how nice her room is… was… and all those clothes and jewelry? Seems like the kind of thing a f*cking sicko would give his prisoner to keep them complacent.” His eyes go up and down Grace’s frail body. “He could be keeping her malnourished, maybe even drugged up, so that she can’t resist him, or maybe he just likes them frail and submissive. Would explain why he keeps turning down all of this,” the p*rnstar gestures to himself dramatically.

Grace lifts her head, mouth opening to yell, ‘NO, that’s not true!” But she can not speak. She picks up her phone, starting to type a message but she can not type as fast as they can talk.

Husk tries to subtly move so that he is between Grace and the others, but it’s pretty obvious to them what he’s doing, “I don’t really have any details beyond the fact that Alastor is very determined to keep her safe. He wasn’t just f*cking telling me to keep his secret, he made it very clear that I was to protect her. That seems like something a little bit beyond just being a sex slave.” Obviously he has a bit more information than the others, but he’s resisting telling them. “Al ain’t interested in that kind of thing though, if she is a prisoner then it’s most likely due to that power we saw. That was quite a hit given her physical health, so I can only begin to f*cking imagine what else she has up her sleeve. The only thing that radio freak is interested in is power.” He knows she tried to tell him that she’s not a prisoner, and he believes that’s what she thinks. But even if she is with him willingly, he knows Alastor too well, he’s manipulating her in some way, he must be.

In the back of Husk’s retinas is still burned the image of her enveloped in violet light, as though she had become the cosmos themselves. Half of his mind screams that she is powerful enough for Alastor to consider her an equal, the other half fears that if he is right, then he might just be trying to make a child that is a mix of their abilities, to add a new, powerful tool to his arsenal.

Grace practically squeaks in rage but the sound is not audible. She wants to scream, ‘No! You’re wrong!” But she can not speak.

“What about thessse medical supplies,” Sir Pentious points out, “perhaps she is just ill, and he is caring for her?” The human seems to get excited at this statement, pointing to the snake before trying to quickly type something.

“Okay but why? Why would he give enough of a f*ck to go out of his way to care for a sick human?” Vaggie steps towards Grace, leaning forward to look at her more closely, the girl’s hands are so shaky and she is trying to type so quickly that she can not get anything actually written to convey her thoughts. “If he is trying to take care of some illness than it must be so he can get something in exchange.”

Grace shies away from her glare. Again she finds one of her hands instinctively moving to protect her belly. Her head is a bit less swimmy now, thanks to Niffty’s now expert skills with her IV saline and nutrients. She’s able to ignore the pain in her shoulder for the time being, she can’t lift the arm, but there doesn’t appear to be nerve damage given that she can still use her hand properly.

“You know we keep jumping to the worst possible conclusions, but I don’t think it’s anything as sinister as you all are making it out to be,” Charlie interrupts. Though it is hard to look at this girl and not think that there is something terrible going on, the princess of misplaced hope still desires to see the best in people. In a way, she is. She’s right about this not being some horrible, nasty plot. She just has no evidence to support that, no real reason to believe it.

The silver-haired woman is still glaring at Grace. She takes another step closer, till Husk spreads his wings to seperate them and she’s forced to back off. Vaggie thinks about the medical supplies, she thinks about the human’s body language, she thinks about the list of… names… She had been so distracted by the poorly written Spanish options at the time, that she had completely glazed over the name written on the bottom. ‘Alastor Jr.’

Her blood runs completely cold. “Holy sh*t…” This is followed by some heavy swearing in her native tongue before she says, “f*cking pregnant… the sick f*ck figured out how to reproduce!”

Grace’s eyes dart to Husker, silently pleading with him to help keep her secret. She has no doubt in her mind, if they discover she is pregnant with Alastor’s child, they will end it’s unborn life. It’s clear several of them have a disdain for her husband, and do not trust him. She knows that what she carries would likely be considered an monstrosity in their eyes even if it’s father was not an overlord they so despise. She has no reason to trust them, at least that’s what her terrified, hormone-addled mind is telling her.

But Husk doesn’t need to say anything to deflect, instead Charlie speaks up, “What? There’s no way. Come on, you think Alastor of all people would want children?”

Okay that bit stings Grace’s heart. The cold reminder that it’s true, her darling husband has no desire for children. Even these people know it. All the girl wanted was to be with Alastor. It’s not fair, she was given such a cursed life from birth, why could she not be permitted happiness. Yes, her great love is a demon, but who else was she supposed to be with after the sh*t hand that fate dealt her? They had worked so hard to get to a point where she could feel safe, stable. And while this pregnancy has been a trial, deep down she believes it may be a gift, one that her husband will come to love one day too. She knows this gift would mean life will never be easy again, but at least she would be with her soulmate and raising a child, just like she had dreamed since she was a little girl. Now it is all going to be torn apart, these demons will tear her away from her love, from her child, for the only happiness she has ever found.

The whole time she is caught up in her swirl of emotions, the whole group has devolved into argument. Charlie and Husk are on the side of it being preposterous that she’s pregnant. Whilst Vaggie has convinced Angeldust that what she’s saying is right, they are throwing around wild theories like Grace being a breeding slave. Sir Pentious seems caught between the two sides of the argument, unwilling to commit to either idea. And Niffty is just watching Grace’s IV bags and making sure she’s getting her nutrients properly.

Suddenly Charlie says something that pulls the human out of her mental spiral, “Why would he bring his pregnant wife down to hell when there’s going to be another extermination in five months? It’s ridiculous, if they were having a kid and he cared enough to keep her close, then he wouldn’t be endangering her by bringing her down here now…”

Grace’s eyes widen, and her chest tightens, she realizes she was right, Alastor has been hiding something from her.

The bickering stops suddenly as Grace stands and half stumbles towards them, supporting herself using the IV stand, while holding out her phone.

Charlie reads the message, her own eyes widening as well.

-5 months??? it was suppose to be year. he brouhgt me down after the last extermination cause i was suppose to eb safe for a year here!!”-

Her hands were so shaky that it was a miracle she got any of that typed out legibly.

“No, he… did he not tell you?” The princess looks over at the rest of the group, then back to the human, “The extermination got moved up, like a week and a half ago heaven told us that they were going to come back in six months.”

Grace looks like she’s about to collapse, her head is spinning again.

But before the conversation can further continue, they are interrupted by the lobby doors opening.

Chapter 31

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

“Now remember little egg… things… everything that you heard or witnessed today is to be kept a secret between you and I,” Alastor says as he approaches the hotel.

“Yes, boss!”

“We can do that, boss!”

“The sharp teeth lady was scary, boss!”

The overlord rolls his eyes as he pushes open the doors to the lobby. As he walks in he is looking down at the eggs, and yet despite not immediately seeing the group that has gathered around the couch in the parlor, he immediately knows something is wrong. All those fears earlier, that strange tension he tried to brush off as meaningless anxiety, immediately come crashing down on him.

From the perspective of the group it seems that he has not noticed them as he walks in. Just looking down at the ground, talking to the eggs and oblivious to the dirty, bloodied people in the room. But he knew what was going on the moment the doors opened, he just needed a minute to process.

The radio demon is five steps in when he finally looks up, and immediately locks eyes with the too familiar green ones of his beloved wife. His beloved wife, who looks exhausted, leaning heavily on her IV stand, as though she may collapse at any moment. His beloved wife who looks terrified as she is surrounded by the other demons of the hotel. His beloved wife, who has a growing red stain on her shoulder from an injury that she must have sustained while he was away.

“f*ck…” Husk mutters, taking a quick step back, trying to figure out if he can get away before the carnage starts.

“Damn it…” Angeldust mutters, his eyes darting around, trying to figure out if he can get away before the carnage starts.

“Ssssh*t…” Sir Pentious mutters, cowering behind the couch, trying to figure out if he can get away before the carnage starts.

Grace reaches out towards him, her mind caught between calling for help, and screaming for him to stop. She knows her husband’s temper. She can already see reality phasing around him as he begins to change. The woman has never seen the true extent of his powers, and knows not how severe things are about to get. She needs him, wants him to save her from the nightmare she has found herself trapped in. And yet she fears for his life, his safety, should he try to stand against this group. Fears that she may lose any chance of gaining their trust if he assaults them.

But she can not beg for help. She can not scream for him to stop. For she has no voice, not yet anyways. Her phone is buzzing, struggling to connect to his powers, but the way they have begun to overflow is too much for the device.

The lights blink out.

“sh*t”

When they come back on he is closer. Taller. His neck a bit too long. His antlers have grown.

“Alastor hold on it’s not…”

The lights blink out. There is a static in the air.

“Al calm the f*ck down we can talk…”

They come back on again, he is halfway to them. The radio demon is towering, surrounded by shadowing tentacles. Reality itself seems to glitch around him. Nobody can move, even the fearless Vaggie is paralyzed.

“Please we didn’t mean to hurt her, this is all a big misunderstanding just…”

The lights blink out. But the room is not dark. Each member of the group can faintly see each other in an ominous green glow.

“f*ck”

He is within their circle. So tall his antlers scrape the ceiling. His neck is long and crooked. His whole form is surrounded by shadowy squirming tendrils. The air is filled with the sound of a screaming stag that seems to come from his chest rather than his mouth. In fact his mouth is stretched into a massive, horrifying smile, with green slime dripping down his chin, his teeth somehow sharper than they’ve ever been.

In a single move one arm scoops up Grace, raising her high above the group. She feels the air escape her lungs but barely processes the fact that she has gasped. She is still desperately holding onto her IV stand, even though she feels the needle wiggling in her arm in a nasty kind of feeling that will probably bruise later. She has the metal pole clutched tightly to her chest as she watches the ground grow further away from her.

“You damned, rotten souls think you can bring harm to my Grace?” His voice is beyond the radio filter, it is like static that has come together to form words, a thousand signals coalescing into a voice that nearly breaks the minds of those listening. His glowing eyes have turned to ticking dials, his gaze darts between different members of the group as he decides which one he is going to eviscerate first. “I knew you were fools, I knew you were violent bastards, but apparently I failed to realize that you are all IMBECILES.”

“Alastor, please we can expl…” Charlie is cut off as a tentacle wraps itself around her so tightly it squeezes the air from his lungs. Two more grasp Vaggie by the wrists and dangle in her the air in a crucifixion pose.

“Listen, Al, I’m f*cking sorry. I tried I sweeeEEAR,” Husk is interrupted by one of the shadows grabbing him by the ankle and pulling him up into the air, dangling him upside down. “Please, please for f*cksake I tried… I swear I f*cking tired.”

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough you mangey furball!!” That abominable voice hisses.

Soon Pentious and Angeldust have been pinned down by the shadows as well, both are so consumed by the fear of what they are looking at that they have no words, not even to scream. Both of them are very aware that if Alastor finds out that one of them actually caused Grace’s injury, and the other held a gun to her head, that the radio demon will find worse ways to hurt them then they can even imagine. And it’s imagining what might be about to be inflicted upon them that has practically petrified them.

The only one left alone is Niffty. Even in his utterly blind rage Alastor knows that none of this could be her fault. So instead of restraining her, he reaches over with his free hand, plucks her up by the back of her dress, and drops her over where the egg bois have gathered to watch in terror by the doors. She giggles as she is carried through the air, then as she is plopped down she immediately becomes excited at the sight of these creatures that are smaller than her. Her smile grows wide, and she ignores the potential slaughter on the other side of the room and instead opts to focus on inflicting her heart’s desire on the poor minions.

It is beginning to seem like the hotel staff and guests may be doomed. Charlie is still trying to beg for him to listen, despite the fact that she can barely breathe. She knows in her heart she should tap into her infernal powers and fight back, but she does not want this to end in bloodshed, she just needs him to listen. Her eyes lock with Grace’s, who seems almost enamored by the chaos and destruction her husband is bringing down.

But after a moment, the human shakes her head clear.

There is a new crackle in the air. If one could describe the sound of colors, then the room’s occupants might describe it as being the same blindingly familiar violet that they’ve all been exposed to recently.

“SIX MONTHS?!?”

The snap back to a sane reality is disorienting. None of those who are still restrained by the shadows really understand what just happened until they see their attacker has returned to his normal size. The lights click back on, and the buzzing static has ceased. The overlord is still cradling his wife in his arms, she is not being so gentle.

She is death gripping one of his fuzzy ears, pulling his head down to the side as her voice crackles out of her phone on the floor nearby, “The extermination was moved up by six months and you d-idn’t tell ME?!” Although she went from being more than ten feet off the ground to a more normal distance within the span of a single frame of reality she seems mostly unbothered. Although her head is spinning even more now she does not allow it to deter her from lambasting her husband for his spectacularly poor decisions. “And put me down when I’m yelling at you!” This is perhaps the clearest her voice has ever sounded on the phone, the whole screen is glowing with a swirling mix of her violet and Alastor’s green.

He carefully follows her command, “Grace… I can explain,” His eyes are wide, he almost seems frightened of her. Or frightened for her? At the very least stunned into a state of temporary submission. The overlord has become so immediately focused on her that one might assume he’s forgotten about the others, but the way the tentacles stay tight on them indicates this is only a temporary distraction.

The woman still has a tight grip on his ear, like a mother lecturing her child. “No! You are going to lis….okay actually I do need you to…” Her body, still weak from all the stress of this day, begins to fail her. Alastor wordlessly raises his hands so that he has one on the small of her back and the other holds her by the arm, keeping her upright. “You’ve known for a week and a half that the extermination had been moved up and you didn’t think it was important enough to tell me?!” She pulls down on his ear even harder as though to accentuate her point. Normally she would never lay hands on him like this, but after the day she’s had, after the f*cking month she’s had, with all these hormones running through her poor body, she is not going to let her voice be ignored anymore. “You promised no more secrets. That was part of your f*cking wedding vows, no more secrets unless it is to protect my life. I’m pretty f*cking sure that not telling me an angelic MOTHERf*ckING ARMY will be coming to town six months early does not fall under protecting me!!”

Everybody is looking either at the phone on the ground that is currently lecturing the great overlord Alastor, or staring at the demon himself, who currently looks more like an ashamed little boy than he does an incredibly powerful denizen of hell. None of them can really figure out what to make of the situation.

“You were already unwell, I did not want to add more stress…” And now she is more stressed than ever, so that spectacularly backfired, as much as he could blame this whole situation on the rest of the group, they can’t really be held accountable for the seething anger that she is showing now.

Honestly, Alastor is a little terrified. He has never seen her this irate before, and maybe it’s the hormones and this god awful day whipping her up into even more of a frenzy, but it scares him to see her like this. He doesn’t even fully process the way she’s holding him by the ear as she cusses him out, he’s more focused on how red her face is, how she can barely stand. All of her remaining energy is going into this rant, and if she uses up everything she has left, will there be any stamina left for the baby?

The baby that already may no longer be alive, he remembers suddenly. The baby they may have already lost because she is exhausted and stressed and injured because the f*cking fools who run this hotel saw fit to endager a pregnant woman. His rage begins to grow again.

“Dear can this wait until I’ve dealt with…” He glances over at the rest of the group, who are all staring in silence and praying for their lives. They are hoping that they will see some kind of mercy.

“No!!” Grace’s tirade actually goes on for several more minutes, and Alastor endures each second without arguing back in the slightest. Everybody just watches as the all powerful radio demon is given the harshest dressing down they've ever seen, by a frail human woman of all people.

Husk is still hanging upside down, so it’s hard for him to read the expressions of the couple, but it’s obvious that Alastor is trying to hide shame behind that unwavering smile. He has never seen his master like this. Never in a million years could the bartender imagine him ever allowing anybody to talk to him like this. Not only is he allowing her to talk to him like that, but he is supporting her while she does it. It’s an almost fascinating pose even from his flipped perspective, her pulling his head down by the ear while he helps her stay standing.

Charlie ‘always looks on the bright side’ Morningstar is obsessed with how her facility manager is handling the situation. Despite the fact that she’s pretty sure three of her ribs might be cracked, she is entirely focused on how this proves it; Alastor does have some good in him. If he is allowing his wife to have and express her emotions without trying to dismiss them or silence her, then that must mean he loves her very dearly and therefore is capable of becoming a good person right? And if one of the most vicious sinners hell has ever seen is capable of that, then any of the demons must be capable of redemption, right? Her eyes are sparkling in excitement even as they bug out of her head from being nearly squeezed to death by these shadow tentacles.

Vaggie is formulating a battleplan. Her angelic spear is still on the upper floor, Charlie had made her leave it behind so that they wouldn’t appear ‘threatening’ to the human ‘guest.’ But she is looking for any possible opening so that she can escape her restraints, if she does that then her next goal would be to get Charlie free. She knows that without her weapon she is no match for Alastor, there would be no real point in fighting him except to distract him while the others escape. Though at the moment he seems surprisingly distracted enough, it’s almost amusing how he’s been reduced to a meek husband before his wife’s intense fury.

Angeldust is almost certain he is doomed. The moment Alastor finds out what he did, held a gun to the woman’s head while she was just trying to escape, it will be all over. In the back of his mind he wonders if he could tap into his contract and warn Valentino that he’s in danger, and have him bring help. But he dismisses the idea, he would rather have his voice ripped out and his soul shredded than allow Val to come to his rescue. He would never hear the end of it, the f*cking moth would certainly spend the next two of three decades making him ‘show his appreciation’ for saving his life. So all Angel can do is hope that somebody will take care of Fat Nuggets after he passes.

Sir Pentious’ focus is split. He keeps looking over to his little egg minions, normally he would shout for them to come help him, but his last battle with the radio demon wiped out nearly all of them. Those five are all he has left at this point in time, and he is not prepared to sacrifice them in them in a fruitless battle. But the snake’s engineering and science focused mind is also distracted by the phone on the floor. Although he really should be concerned about his safety, he finds that he can not help but to be fascinated by the way that the device is projecting the woman’s voice. He can immediately tell that it’s not a telepathic connection, and therefore must be a more magical mechanical type deal, his mind is awhirl with possibilities as to how the gadget may be functioning and how it’s ‘design’ may be improved. An inventor never stops inventing, even when faced with their imminent demise.

The egg creatures could not come to help their creator even if he did call for them. They are currently under the whim of little Niffty, who has found a marker and begun drawing faces on the backs of their heads. She is making slightly deranged commentary about turning them into puppets for her show. Somebody might ask why she is drawing faces on them for her to puppet them when they already have faces. To which Nif might respond with something about how the faces they have aren’t ‘right.’ And if that person knows what is best for them they would leave that conversation there and walk away.

She seems completely unbothered by what is happening in the hotel lobby. The maid pretty much expected that this would happen at some point, even before she became aware of Grace she knew that it was likely Alastor might snap and slaughter the other occupants. His outburst just a few minutes ago was not the first time she has seen him behave in such a way. Sometimes when you are friends with the radio demon he up and destroys everything because the people involved crossed him, that’s just how he is and she loves him for it. So, although she’ll miss her new friends, she’ll be okay because now she has Gracie and maybe will get to play auntie to her bestie’s baby, and she’s fine with everything else burning down as long as she gets that.

After a total of perhaps fifteen minutes of Grace lecturing her husband on the foolishness of trying to keep secret something as important as the extermination date, as well as airing a few other minor grievances that are only getting brought up because she’s caught in a word vomit rage soup, she finally takes a deep breath, and releases him.

Alastor’s ear twitches as it tries to shake out the cramp from being held like that for so long, “Are… you done?” She nods, and leans against him hard, trying to catch her breath. This action makes him very aware of how much she is shaking, how cold her body is, and how much that red stain on her shoulder has grown. His gaze turns back upon the group, his fury returns, “now… where was I?”

Everyone currently under his wrathful eyes feel a shiver run up their spines as the lights begin to flicker again. Most of their hope of survival begins to drain again. But Charlie is certain she can salvage the situation if she could just stop being strangled long enough to talk.

Husk points to Pentious, “Listen man, it’s all his fault. I tried to keep her safe.” He sees the snake tense up, but the best chance any of them has is if he can direct his master’s rage onto one specific demon. “He went f*cking crazy and exposed the room, that injury she has is because of him but I swear to f*ck I tried to keep her safe…”

Alastor’s tentacles bring the cat close enough for him to sneer in his face, “I don’t care who’s fault it is. It was your job to protect her, and you failed. And clearly the rest of these imbeciles…”

Grace stumbles over to the couch and nearly collapses on it. She pulls the IV out of her arm because the whole area is just bruised and sore now. Her eyes meet Husk’s, and he is silently pleading for her to help.

“He d-d try Al…” Her voice is coming through the phone weaker again, she doesn’t have much strength left. “I think you c-uld cut him some slack… he fought them…” She gestured to Pentious’s injured tail, “And I would pr-bably be dead if he hadn’t gotten between me and that one girl’s sp-ar.”

The radio demon pauses, looking his servant up and down. With a disgruntled ‘hmm’ he sets the bartender down nearby. In that moment Husk is incredibly glad he made the choice to try and get on the human’s good side earlier. Had he not then he likely would be screaming on the radio broadcast right now.

His comfort lasts until a sharp static sound makes his ears ring and he feels a voice in the back of his skull, “Don’t think this is over for you Husker, I may yet let you live, but you will face consequences for your failure.” He shudders as he backs away from the overlord, it’s better than nothing. He keeps telling himself that, I’ll live, that’s better than nothing. Though he might do his best to stay around the human as much as possible, since it seems that whatever Alastor has planned he does not want his wife to see.

Alastor’s head turns so he can look at Pentious, his neck cracks as though the bones in it are snapping, “So… if was your foolish antics that brought my wife harm? I knew I shouldn’t have allowed you to live… this is what kindness gets me apparently.”

Charlie has managed to finally get somewhat loose from the shadows, enough so that she can speak anyways, “Alastor please calm down, we can talk this out.” Her gaze moves between him and the woman half laying on the couch. There has to be a peaceful solution, there is always a peaceful solution right?

“We are way past talking princess,” Alastor hisses in response, his eyes still glued to the snake, “my wife is bleeding, you think I intend to let that slide.”

“Please, I… I admire your desire to protect her, it means there is so much more… going on in your heart than any of us could have anticipated,” She is panting a bit between breaths, there is definitely at least one broken rib, “But if you are capable… of loving somebody so much that you would get this angry seeing them hurt… then it must mean you have enough empathy to hear us out… to understand that this was a mistake… and forgive us!”

Again there is the sound of bones cracking as he turns to face the girl, his face is dark, his smile twisted as he forces himself to maintain it, “If I care as much as you seem to think… then why in all the seven rings of hell would I ever consider letting you morons escape with your lives after you attacked the woman CARRYING MY CHILD!!”

It’s at this point that the others finally understand that they may be well and truly f*cked. In one line he has confirmed all suspicion regarding Grace’s condition, as well as any soothed concerns that he may be anything less than an overprotective father-to-be.

Husk fights the urge to run now that he is free, and instead slips over to the couch, kneeling by the human so she can check on her, and prepares to get her out of the way if necessary.

Charlotte Morningstar sighs, her blood begins to run hot with her unholy heritage. She didn’t want to do this, she didn’t want to fight. Her relationship with her own father is rocky, but she knows well that if she wants to believe that Alastor is capable of loving his offspring then he is also capable of going to incredible lengths to defend it. And that the paternal, protective mode is not one that leaves much sense left to be talked to.

“I’m sorry Alastor,” She says softly as the shadows around her burn away from the sheer heat of her body, “but I can not allow you to bring harm to these people.”

Grace’s eyes widen as she witnesses Charlie transform for the second time today, but now that she’s holding the form for more than a few seconds the human is able to take in its full, terrifying glory. Despite her whole body being in a terrible state, she suddenly becomes aware of how much the swirling scar on her hand aches, as though trying to warn her. Husker positions himself between the princess and the human.

Alastor seems about to say something awful to the young Charlie, but he is interrupted by the phone on the floor lighting up and speaking with him again, “Al it’s f-ne, I think the baby is fine, my b-lly doesn’t hurt anymore…” Her eyes are soft, not quite pleading, but it’s a look that is trying to draw out her darling husband from within this powerful overlord.

“Anymore?!”

“Not anymore,” She has on hand resting on the small curve of her stomach, and the other is resting on Husk’s shoulder, stroking his fur to keep herself calm, “I strained myself a b-t earlier, but it feels bett-r now.” Although the rest of her body is still sore and weak, her stomach does feel much better than it did during the chaos before.

Alastor is half between his normal form and his demonic form, “We can’t just assume that it’s okay…”

“If something was wrong then I w-ould be in a lot mo-e pain dear,” truth be told, she has no care what happens to the inhabitants of the hotel. Now that Niffty and Husk have been cleared of the damage path, it doesn’t really bother her if her husband flattens this hotel and everybody else within. But she can sense the power scaling issue. She can tell just by being in proximity to Miss. Morningstar that her raw might far outweighs that of the overlord. Grace is out of juice herself, and so could not assist in any kind of fight, and she can’t rely on Husker to be strong enough to properly assist. So, the human must assume the worst, that the princess would decimate her dear husband, and she simply can not allow that to happen.

“It likely hasn’t hit yet,” and the truth of Alastor’s perspective is, he has already assumed the baby is lost. He had a long day of cycling through various intense mental excursions into the recesses of his mind, which have left him quite a mess of anxiety.

“We can’t afford to start a war with people wh- are trying to apologize for a m-stake,” she can not imagine that any apology would be sufficient enough to make up for the pain and terror they have inflicted on her today. Of course she is scared that this stress will be the final push that her frail body needs to start ejecting her fetus prematurely.

“A mistake?! You’re bleeding!! And if the baby is…” Alastor’s voice catches in his throat. He ignored the fear that something was wrong here and because he did not arrive sooner it put his wife and offspring in danger.

Grace’s phone barely manages to project her next line as she struggles to believe her own words, “The baby is fine!!”

His mind is still captured in that memory of his dearest Gracie nearly dying, “”YOU DON’T KNOW THAT” It’s all he can think about. Death. Her death. Their child’s death. What would happen to this half-demon if it perishes before it’s even born?

While the couple argue over the condition of their unborn child, Charlie casts flames that disintegrate the shadows restraining the others. Vaggie takes up a fighting pose beside her girlfriend. Angeldust takes a few steps back to watch from afar. Sir. Pentious does the smart thing, and runs for the lobby doors.

“Alas--r I promise that if I end up miscarrying in the next few days…” Her eyes are full of tears at the thought, she too can not bear to think of what may happen to her little one, “I will d-aw upon all of my power and incinerate these buffoons while you gut them alive.” Her phone crackles, she reaches for where it lays on the floor but does not have the energy to get up. Husker, still determined to stay on this girl’s good side, quickly moves to grab it, then hands it to her.”

This is not exactly reassuring to those who would fall under the category of ‘buffoons.’ But they don’t particularly have much of a choice in what to do.

Alastor sneers, his gaze returning to his potential adversary, “How does that sound princess?” He flexes his hands in a way that causes his knuckles to crackle. “Temporary truce… if all goes well then we make amends… but if my wife miscarries because of the antics of your fools…”

“Why would we make that kind of deal with you?!” Vaggie snaps, “After you attacked us? Why shouldn’t we just put you down now?!” She freezes as a familiar hand rests on her shoulder. She looks up at Charlie, her face screwing up in a mix of anger and disappointment, “Come on… don’t fall for his bullsh*t…”

“She got injured because of the actions of people in this hotel,” her infernal form begins to dissipate, “If she were to miscarry now… it would undeniably be our fault.”

“What?! Look at her!” The other girl gestures to the human, “She’s half dead already, she probably won’t live long enough to carry the baby to term, we can’t…” She hisses in pain as static fills her ears.

Charlie flinches in pain as well, “I don’t want to fight you Alastor. Give me the chance to make this right… let me help her…”

The radio demon glances at his wife, his chest feels so tight, he doesn’t know what to do. “Very well, but as I said… if my child is lost…”

“Yes, I understand…” she looks around, wondering if this is a bad idea. No, she knows this is an awful idea. But she feels she has no other choice. Or at least that all the other choices comprise her values in a way that she is not prepared to deal with. “Now, please, let me help her…

Chapter 32

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

To say things are still tense would be more than an understatement. Vaggie watches with an intense stare as Charlie and Alastor shake on their ‘deal.’ There is a small green glow to show its validity, but it doesn’t have the same level of theatrics that the radio demon typically uses when striking deals. This is too important for those kinds of frivolities.

“I will do what I can to help Grace, so long as you do not bring harm to the people of my hotel.”

“I will not bring harm to the people of your hotel so long as my child survives within Grace’s womb…”

Nobody is particularly happy about the details of this arrangement. Charlie and her group both know that if the human miscarries then Alastor will turn on them immediately, and with how poor her health appears to be, this almost feels as though the princess is promising their demise. Meanwhile the overlord and his wife feel as though this puts them in a position where they have to be at their mercy in order to help ensure the safety of their child. But it seems to be the only way to see to it they go forward with minimal bloodshed.

Alastor is only barely willing to admit it, but he knows he is not equipped to deal with Grace’s deteriorating condition, especially after today’s events pushed her so far. He needs help, the thought makes him shudder.

Charlie on the other hand, is so unwilling to tap into her true power that she would rather take an insane risk to avoid a fight. If she had even a fraction of her girlfriend’s ferocity then she would take down Alastor while his wife is too weak to assist in the fight. She saw that girl’s energy, and she’s smart enough to know that was just a fraction of her raw ability. Taking on both halves of the couple will be a fight she may struggle to win without casualties, but by agreeing to this she has placed herself in a situation where if she fails on her half of the deal then that is the fight she will have to face.

“Now, princess…” Alastor’s tone is bitter on the title, it is a struggle to maintain his usual composure, even his smile is a strain to keep up, “I would suspect that you’ve not inherited any of your father’s more angelic abilities, miracles… healing…” He is standing close to where Grace sits on the couch. The overlord aches to reach out and embrace her, but he must restrain himself so that he can stay in control, and to attempt to repair the image of himself that he wants the others to have. He can not appear soft, not now.

“No… Well I have but…” Charlie twists her hands together nervously, “I know I have some angelic powers but my dad never taught me how to use them…”

“Then how exactly do you intend to help?” The radio demon snaps his fingers and a new first aid kit appears on the couch, this one seems to be of far higher quality than the basic supplies that Husk keeps at the bar, the bottom of the case is labeled ‘Brian’s Do Not Touch.’

Grace is watching the two powerful demons discuss, she doesn’t have any energy left to try and talk. She barely has enough to sit. In fact in order to stay upright she has to lean against Husker, who is sitting beside her, his paws carefully placed to support her without touching anywhere that might anger his master. At first the cat had taken up this position to try and endear himself to the couple, to help protect him from Alastor’s wrath by appearing to care about his wife. But after a minute of holding her like this, he’s becoming more aware of how weak she is, and he’s beginning to develop a genuine concern for her. Even he is not heartless enough to not be concerned about the health of the baby inside her. Regardless of his feelings about the father.

“Well I may not have powers that can help…” Charlie says nervously, “But I do have connections!” She begins to pull her phone out of her pocket, but does so so quickly that she nearly drops it in her nervousness.

“And how exactly are connections supposed to help?” Alastor rolls his eyes. He has connections, favors, demons contracted to him under deals, and he’s been using them, but it’s been of no help at all. He opens the first aid kit, then motions for Grace to show him her injury.

The human carefully pulls her arm out of the sleeve, wincing in pain as her injury aches from the motion. It’s a wide type of collar, so there is enough room for her to pull the limb out through the top of her shirt to expose the shoulder wound, without having to remove her top completely.

Angeldust winces as he sees that the bandage is soaked in blood. Seems the injury is more severe than they first thought. He glances around the room, Sir Pentious seems to have successfully made a get away. On one hand that’s good, because he is the one who caused the injury and therefore would be the focus of Alastor’s rage should he go back on the deal. On the other hand, Angel is well aware of how the language of deals can be played with. The overlord agreed that the people of the hotel would be safe so long as his child is. If Pentious has abandoned them, then he would no longer fall under the protection of the agreement.

Charlie is trying not to fidget as she begins going through contacts in her phone, “Well you’ve probably been limited to supplies here in the pride ring right? I can get medicine…” She glances over Grace’s thin body, she has a suspicion that she may be struggling to nourish herself here in hell, she winces as she recalls the horrific bout of vomiting the girl had during the chaos earlier, “... and food. I have several great places where I order food from all the time. I even have a farmer down in the wrath ring who was going to provide fresh fruit and veggies for the hotel once I got things up and running…”

“Good food is a start, but medicine and medical supplies aren’t cheap…” Alastor delicately begins to unwrap his wife’s bandages. His eye twitches at the sight of the wound, it’s definitely going to leave a nasty scar, and he knows she already is so self conscious about her appearance. “Especially supplies that would be good enough for humans, you may have to acquire things from Earth, and that can be quite costly…” He is worried about the bleeding, although it’s not heavy, he doesn’t know how much blood she has lost. He knows that for her low body weight, every ounce of it is important. “She is likely going to need a transfusion if she’s to regain her strength in time to prevent…” He doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to think about it anymore, and yet it plagues every corner of his mind.

Grace winces as he begins to apply disinfectant to the wound. It does not hurt as badly as Husk’s vodka trick did, but it still burns. The human grips the cat demon’s fur as she hisses while Alastor tries to treat her.

The woman may not be a nurse or doctor, but she knows enough about wound care to know that this injury is going to plague her for a while. She is less concerned about scarring at the moment, though certainly it will bother her later, and more worried that since they didn’t get it properly taken care of quickly that she may suffer permanent muscle damage.

Vaggie is watching closely from the sidelines. Every one of her thoughts is focused on danger. She is preparing for any of Alastor’s movements to become an attack, and is readying herself to counter him if needed. The warrior loves and adores her princess with all her heart, but sometimes she truly can not fathom her decisions. But it is not her place to question Charlie’s choices, only to uphold them and ensure that when they backfire she is clear of the blast.

“I mean, dad kind of… gives me nearly unlimited funds and… doesn’t question what I spend it on so…” Charlie says nervously. She’s always tried to stand on her own two feet, one of the reasons she never hired proper contractors to fix up the hotel was because she didn’t want to spend her father’s money on her dream. “And some hellborn are permitted to go to the surface, so in theory I could hire them to get the supplies we need.” She winces as she thinks about it, hell money isn’t good on Earth, even if she were to hire some hellborn with human disguises, they would likely have to steal anything she asks them to get. But it’s to make a sick person better so… stealing is okay then right?

“Ooooh, she’s got daddy’s cr-dit card,” Grace says playfully, though it’s hard to understand her as she is mostly static at this point. She makes a noise akin to a whimper, but without the vocal cords, as Alastor begins to stitch her wound shut.

“I’m sorry dear, but we need to get this closed up…” Alastor says, his voice is quiet, but it doesn’t have the same softness that he usually has when speaking to her. He glances up at Charlie, “Very well, I require blood and antibiotics. If you can procure anti-nausea medications as well then I might be willing to consider not abandoning my duties to the hotel just yet.”

“O-oh, yeah of course I’ll get right on that…” The princess pauses. With all the life or death concerns regarding this situation, this is the first she is beginning to think of some of the other consequences of this debacle. As much as she knows that she should no longer trust the radio demon, she is well aware how necessary he has been to getting this hotel up and running. Between repairing the various damages and fending off attackers, she knows of the many things that he does to keep this place running… even if it’s only been running for a couple of weeks. “You… you’d actually stay… and continue to help me with the hotel?”

Okay, Vaggie has to question at least some of her decisions, “You can’t be serious Charlie, after all that you’re still going to let him stay here?” She gestures at them, “He attacked us…”

“He was protecting his wife and child,” Charlie tries to point out.

“But she wasn’t in danger anymore! The moment he saw us he went offensive mode,” Vaggie argues, “He’s clearly been waiting for the chance to take us out!”

“If I was so keen on taking you out, I would have done so before any of you had the chance to put your guard up, you would have been dead days ago…” Alastor says without looking up from his work on Grace’s shoulder. “I haven’t been waiting for anything other than the arrival of my offspring.” He is struggling with how to call the fetus, part of him keeps trying to say ‘baby’ but the rest of him shudders in response, ‘spawn’ is what he would call it if he did not need to worry about upsetting his wife. So his mind has compromised for ‘offspring’ with the occasional ‘child’ sprinkled in to appease those who he needs to believe that he cares about the thing. “You of all people know that battlefield decisions have to be made in split seconds, my Gracie was bleeding and looked scared, I did what was best.”

“God! sh*t like that is why I don’t f*cking trust you you creepy piece of...” Vaggie groans and steps towards them, “ your ‘would have already done so’ type sh*t isn’t as reassuring as you seem to f*cking think!”

“I do not intend for it to be reassuring, I only intend to convey the truth,” Alastor’s smile curls a bit as he begins to wrap gauze around the injury. The ray gun’s partial cauterization does not help in reassuring him that this will heal well.

“Well, either way, you can’t stay here,” the woman sneers, “you’ve clearly proven that you’re too dangerous. When your little girlfriend has recovered you need to take her and get out of here.”

The overlord’s shoulder’s tense, the air around him buzzes, “she is my wife! Do not go saying, don’t even go thinking otherwise. I will not have you disrespect my marriage.” It’s surprisingly intense of a reaction. Even he is not sure where that anger came from, although it could be him bottling up his rage and it is just popping out since his composure is weakened. He knows he is supposed to be downplaying his bond with Grace, he adores her but can not allow these people to know how important she is to him, otherwise they might start to realize he has a possible weakness. Yet he can not let comments like that slide.

Grace smiles a bit at the way he leaps to the defense of the importance of their marriage. She often struggles with her fears that he only married her because she was dying and he wanted to make her happy in her final moments. When she ended up surviving she had not expected him to remain so dedicated to the concept of her being his wife. So hearing him so vehemently insist on the importance of her title is reassuring.

Husk momentarily flashes back to when he made a similar comment to Alastor. At the time he thought that the radio demon getting upset about his implication was because he didn’t want to appear weak by having anybody know that he is in a relationship. Now he understands that the reaction was provoked by this obsession that Grace be properly refered to as his wife. If he wasn’t so focused on the way the human is nearly ripping his fur out from how tightly she is gripping it, then he might think more about why this is the case. Why is Alastor so adamant that the nature of his relationship to Grace be respected? Is it about respecting her? Or, is it because he does not want to allow himself to doubt the reasons why he is with her? Husk knows that while he may never learn all the details, this little relationship was likely not initially born out of Alastor loving the human, and perhaps sometimes he does not want to be reminded that his initial intentions were not pure.

Charlie moves so she is between Alastor and Vaggie , “Vaggie, honey, I really understand your concerns but… it’s not up to you if they get to stay here…” She glances at Alastor, “but I guess I do have to ask… why would you want to stay? After everything that just happened?”

The overlord secures the gauze and bandaging properly, “I do not admit to this lightly, but I came here out of necessity. I saw your extreme positivity and desire to help,” as well as her position,“and determined that the safest place in hell would be in a building that is under your protection.” He looks up at Grace’s face for a moment, she smiles reassuringly, but what’s not so reassuring is how she’s even paler than usual. “I hid her here to protect her. And unfortunately… I still need to keep her protected, which means that I suppose I must swallow a bit of my pride and remain here, and as long as I remain I will perform my duties to the hotel.”

“The safest place for that girl is back on earth! Not down here in hell,” Vaggie argues, still trying to get her partner to see reason.

Grace makes that almost whimper noise again, quickly reaching out to grab her husband’s hand. Her eyes are wide as she shakes her head. “I c-n’t go b--k, no, bad…” Her chest grows tight at the thought.

Husk is a bit relieved that she is no longer holding his fur. He wasn’t the biggest fan of having it touched, but her grip hurt so badly and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to say anything about it.

Angel watches the way that Alastor moves so that he can hold both her hands in his own. It’s a surprisingly comforting move, especially from somebody so averse to touch as he is.

Alastor glances at Grace’s phone, he can tell how badly she wants to talk, he’d rather let her explain anyways, but it seems that won’t be possible, “Sending her back to earth would be sending her to her death.” He looks over at the IV stand where it lays cast to the side, there’s still fluids in the bags, but he suspects that the needle and tubing may be contaminated after having been in contact with the floor the way it is. Further possibility of infection is not a risk he wants to take. “Since she fell pregnant she has become a beacon for all kinds of supernatural beings up there. I’m not certain what causes it, but before we left she was under almost constant assault by creatures that wished her harm.” He turns one arm over so he can inspect the spot where the IV had been attached. As he suspected there is a large bruise growing from the needle being moved around. It’s something that the demon realizes is his own fault, from picking her up so roughly, and now that arm won’t be able to take a needle for at least a week. “I can not be up there constantly, after a few days the portal drags me back under, and then I have to wait a bit before it will let me through again. So I can not be there at all times to protect her.”

“Okay do you even realize how much that sounds like bullsh*t?” Vaggie puts a hand on her hip. “You really expect us to believe that she’s just being ‘targeted’ up there?”

“Actually what he’s saying is pretty possible,” Charlie looks down at her phone as it buzzes, somebody responding to her messages about supplies.

Angel frowns, “seriously? Why would she be in dang…. Oh sh*t…” Some gears are clicking over in her head, “I didn’t pick up on her being human right away because she had demonic energy coming off her. Is the kid doing that?”

Vaggie looks a little dejected at being proven she’s wrong. Her anger is beginning to shift to something sadder. A touch of the guilt she felt earlier when she saw that she had been attacking a frail, injured girl is starting to come back. She’d been so blinded by her hatred of Alastor that she failed to realize she was doing it again, hurting somebody innocent.

The princess nods, “From what I can tell Alastor, Grace… your child seems to have a very strong presence, even though you’re still at an early stage of pregnancy. But because they are still just a fetus they have no ability to modulate or conceal how much energy they put out.” She quickly sends off some more messages on her phone. “So I can believe that what you’re saying is true. To supernatural creatures up on earth, demonic energy can have really weird effects, it may be sending them into some kind of frenzy or rage.” She bites her lower lip, “Or they may think they can claim the power behind the energy signal by consuming you.”

“Okay I guess that makes sense but,” Vaggie has begun to fidget. She just wants the people she cares about to be safe. Everything in her is screaming that Alastor is not safe to have around, and yet nothing she can say seems to deter Charlie. She wants to uphold her decisions, but it’s hard when she feels like her girlfriend is being blind to the dangers. “We should still look into how Alastor even got to the surface. If one of hell’s most dangerous sinners can get topside then that means there is a huge hole in the pride ring’s security. If he can pull that off then who knows what other kinds of tricks he could be hiding.”

“There is no hole in the security, I assure you,” Alastor begins to clean up the blood dripping down Grace’s arm from where the IV was ripped out, the bleeding seems to have stopped but he decides to disinfect and bandage it anyway. “I did not escape, hence why I keep getting dragged back down. I got up there by perfectly ‘legal’ means.” She flinches as he tries to clean the area, and gives him a sad look, to which he responds by lifting her arm up enough that he can lean in and gently kiss the boo boo, before resuming patching it up while talking,“There are protocols in place to allow sinners access to the human realm in such a way that they can not cause massive amounts of damage. They are not well known, but I figured it out.” He has no intention of sharing the fact that he had to basically sell his soul in order to get topside.

This gets Angeldusts attention. If he got to the surface would be be able to escape his contract with Valentino? Surely the dumb moth would have no way of tracking him down and bringing him back, right? Of course he doesn’t know it wouldn’t be possible for him to use the same method that Alastor did. His soul already belongs to Val, so if he wished to get up there then he would have to find a patron willing to give him that permission without trading in ownership of his soul… and then find somebody powerful enough to summon him.

“Fine, fine, I guess I don’t know as much about the rules down here as I thought,” Vaggie folds her arms, trying not to pout. “How did he even get a human pregnant, that’s the really impossible part of this whole situation…”

Grace’s phone vibrates in a way that seems to portray a giggle, “I’m s-rry you’re ed-cat--n syst-m failed you so bad-y that you now d-n’t know where b-abies come f-om.” Her husband smirks a bit at her witty little remark.

The other woman looks away in embarrassment, “I’m starting to understand why he supposedly likes you…”

There is a small flare up of radio static at that ‘supposedly’ indication, but Grace squeezing the radio demon’s hand helps to ground him again.

Charlie takes a deep breath, “That… that is kind of an important question, that we’ll need answered at some point. Because sinners aren’t supposed to be able to reproduce, and if they can have babies with humans then I see that causing some… bigger issues if others find out.” She takes in the state of the human, she looks as though she is struggling to stay awake, “but… that line of questioning can wait. I think maybe it would be best if Grace gets some rest. It’s going to take me a couple hours to get those things for you guys, and I don’t think being barraged with personal questions is going to help her recover from today…”

Alastor stands straight and rests a hand on his wife’s shoulder, “And where exactly should she rest? From what I understand you all destroyed her room.”

“This is a hotel,” Charlie gestures around herself, “there are plenty of rooms available.”

“Your rooms are not exactly up to my standards Charlie,” The overlord replies, “If I am being honest, they are sh*t. I have no intention of making her sleep on one of the flea ridden mattresses.”

“You’re the facilities manager Alastor,” Angeldust points out, he’s on his phone, trying to get ahold of Sir Pentious to let him know about the details of the deal that took place. He figures that if the radio demon does snap then he’ll be safer if the person whose action harmed Grace is there to take the brunt of the rage. He also knows that the snake’s best chance at survival is to be under the protection of the deal. “Ain’t it your job to make sure the rooms are nice? And her’s to keep them bug free?” He jerks his thumb behind him to point at Niffty.

Niffty is currently given hastily written scripts to the egg minions. They are now actors in her new play.

Alastor does glance over at Niffty, if he wasn’t so tense then he would be amused by her antics, “I’ve done the best I can with what I was given. You can dress up a dung pile but it will still be a pile of sh*t.”

“Al-stor… that’s mean…” Grace gives him a soft but stern look. “I kn-w you are still ang-y at them but…”

He resists the urge to sigh, she’s right. He needs to compose himself. After this whole debacle he has ruined weeks of getting on these people’s good side. As much as he wants to take Grace away and burn them all to the ground, this is still the safest place for her in all of hell, that he knows of. He must maintain the facade. Maintain the polite bullsh*t. Maintain the persona he’s built of a funny radio man who isn’t really a threat to anybody.

“I… apologize…” Alastor’s throat hurts as he tries to force fake sincerity past his radio filter, “perhaps that was uncalled for, it has been a very long day.”

Although she feels hurt by Alastor’s comments, Charlie swallows her pride, and decides it would be best to try and appease him to prevent any more conflict. “I understand, as a living soul she is more susceptible to illness, this building may pass demon standards, but it is probably not as safe for humans.” She peeks over at Vaggie, she knows that she should ask her before offering this to the couple, but it seems as though her girlfriend isn’t seeing any sense in fostering peace. So, Charlie has to do what she thinks is best, even if it results in an argument later, “Mine and Vaggie’s room is in the best condition, it’s very clean, and has the most amenities. Perhaps she could stay in there until you have her room fixed up?”

Vaggie opens her mouth like she is going to argue, but sighs and looks away instead.

The princess has a tense smile, “It will only be temporary so I don’t mind. In fact I think maybe all of us should get cleaned up and rest a bit.” She gestures at all the others, who are covered in varying amounts of drywall dust and soot.

“Are we really not going to talk about the fact that he is threatening to kill us?” Angel points out, flinching as Alastor’s gaze turns towards him.

“Once we’ve all had some time to decompress and clear our heads we can reconvene and discuss all this… including the threats of violence,” Charlie is thinking a bit about how she is going to need to have a conversation with Vaggie. If they are going to build any sort of trust between the hotel and the couple then she’s going to need her partner to stop antagonizing.

“I still think it’s wrong to be keeping a human here,” Vaggie mumbles, “we’re putting the hotel at risk of retaliation from heaven if they find out.”

Grace begins to twist her hands in her lap. She feels as though everybody is talking about her like she’s not even there, like her feelings and input don’t matter. She has her ‘voice’ back sure, but she barely has the energy to contribute to the conversation. She’s honestly relieved that Charlie is suggesting they all get some rest, not only because she needs to recover, but she also wants to be able to defend herself and her right to be down here. Which is difficult with her eyelids as heavy as they are.

“One more night isn’t going to trigger the apocalypse, she’s been here a while already and there hasn’t been an issue until now,” Husk says. Since Grace seems to have calmed down now he gets up and steps away, trying to put some distance between himself and Alastor.

Angel decides that this would probably be a good idea, because once he gets cleaned up he can go out and search for Pentious. He’s exhausted from the intense day they’ve had, but this wouldn’t be the first time that he’s had to work overtime when he’s already worn out.

“Alastor how about you take her up to my room, I’ll bring up the blood and medicines as soon as I have gotten a hold of them…” Charlie looks down at her phone as more response messages come in.

“Very well, Husker…” Alastor moves to lift Grace, “Please go to Grace’s room and gather up her things. I will need them out of the way while I repair and renovate it anyways.”

Vaggie is standing back now, arms folded, lost in thought. She doesn’t even argue about the human’s stuff getting put in her space. She doesn’t argue at all any more.

Grace brings her arms up to wrap them around her husband’s neck as he holds her bridal style. They are an odd looking couple. His tall, thin frame with demonic features, versus her frail body and very much human appearance. It is even more evident than usual how small she is now that he’s holding her, and yet it is a strange kind of small. Looking at her it’s obvious she’s not meant to be this size, she almost seems like she should be taller but something stunted her growth. She is not quite skin and bones, there are some residual muscles from when she was fairly well built. To an outside eye one may be concerned about the nature of the relationship with the one holding her, as though he is a demon feeding off her life force. At least that’s what everybody in the room begins to think as they watch Alastor carry his wife up the stairs.

Chapter 33

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Grace has never felt more heavy in Alastor’s arms than she does right now. And it can not be blamed on baby weight, for if anything she is a few pounds lighter than she was only a month ago. He is more than strong enough to carry her at any size, and yet he is struggling to keep a hold of her. As soon as the pair have entered a section of hallway where the group can no longer see them, he immediately lowers his face so he can rest his nose in her hair. He doesn’t mind the flecks of drywall dust that are mixed into her brown curls, he just wants to feel close to her. Even as his arms shake he still holds her close and tight.

He is not the only one struggling at this moment. As she is carried through the hotel, Grace is trembling. It could be the exhaustion, it could be the immense amount of pain in her shoulder, it could be because today has been utterly terrifying. Even she isn’t certain why she is shaking, her mind is so utterly scrambled that she can’t make heads or tails of her own sense of self. She has her arms wrapped around his neck, but she wants to hold her stomach, to reassure herself that the baby is okay, even though they have no real way of knowing yet. The woman feels like she should pray for its safety, but who would she even pray to? Certainly God would not lift a finger to protect her demonic fetus…

“Are you alright…?” Alastor asks softly, his filter completely gone, his transatlantic accent missing. He almost sounds human.

She was still holding her phone when he picked her up. So with the way she has her arms around him, the hand holding it is near the side of his face. He can feel it buzzing against his cheek as she tries to talk, but she does not have the strength to properly project her voice.

After a moment of failing to speak, Grace resigns herself to silence for the time being, and chooses to simply nod in response to his question. It’s not the truth, she feels awful, but compared to earlier she feels much better, so… on a scale of yes or no, a nod is sufficient. But she still wishes she could share her thoughts with him, her concerns, her fears.

Her husband holds her tighter, he knows. He knows her mind, even if he can not read it. But he aches to hear her voice. Hear her say what is bothering her. He walks just a touch faster, maybe if he can get her comfortable and settled in she will regain the energy to speak.

As they travel the remaining distance is silence, Grace puts her head to Alastor’s chest. She closes her eyes and listens, but only hears static. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it makes her nervous all the same. He’s closing himself off to his own emotions, not just trying to avoid expressing them, trying to resist feeling them, and so his internal radio has no music to play, only a buzzing similar to that of her phone when she tries to speak.

When they arrive at Charlie’s room, she takes a look around. It’s much bigger than any of the hotel rooms. Its furniture even nicer than what she had in her own room, but the walls and floor have the same sort of decrepit appearance to them that the rest of the hotel has. Peeling wallpaper, stains in the carpet. There are multiple doors, one presumably leading off to a bathroom, perhaps the other to some kind of kitchen? The room almost seems more like a small apartment, which makes sense given that it’s more of a permanent residence for the princess. Since she’s the owner, it would require more amenities so the resident can feel at home.

Alastor looks over at the large bed, and considers taking his wife straight to it. But before that he has a better idea. He carefully carries her over to the massive window, and sets her down on the cushioned seating area that is up against it. The sky outside is still rather bright, after such a long day he’d expect it to be nighttime by now. Although the sky always retains some amount of light regardless of the time of day, he can tell that it is still only late afternoon. He hadn’t been keeping track of time, which is unusual even for him. The breakfast he didn’t finish feels like it was days ago.

Breakfast…

“Are you hungry dear?” He gets Grace comfortable, resting her knees against some pillows as she sits in a half curled up position looking out the window.

The woman leans close to the window, her eyes widening at the view. It’s not quite the same height as the radio tower, but she can still see almost all of the city from this spot. For a moment she allows her fears and worries to slip away as she takes in the sights.

“Gracie…” Alastor places a hand on her shoulder, “did you eat today?” He had left before ensuring she had a proper breakfast. It’s not very high up on his list of regrets for the day, but he does feel bad about it all the same.

She sighs, “I d-d bu- I…” the phone buzzes again as it struggles to convey her voice again, so instead she makes a motion with her hand near her mouth to attempt to convey that she had thrown up earlier.

“I see…” The overlord expected as much, but really had been hoping he was wrong. “Do you feel up to eating?”

She thinks on it for a moment, her hand moving down to her stomach. They need to talk about it, talk about how she was injured, stressed, and run ragged. Talk about how her body is weak. Talk about how the baby in her belly may not be alive anymore. Grace knows she should worry about eating for the sake of her own health, but she also wants to just waste away, to allow death to take her so she won’t have to feel the pain of the loss she knows is coming.

But she has to persevere. For even the slim chance that her child still lives within her, she must keep trying. So she nods, even though it’s a lie.

Alastor snaps his fingers, and a bag of chips from her snack stash appears in his hands. He could summon all of her belongings to the room with just a snap, but he wanted to put Husker to work after his spectacular failure of the day. He also knows that she should eat something more substantial, but there isn’t much left in their food stores, and she’s earned a treat anyways.

He sits down beside her, opening the bag and resting it in her lap. The radio demon’s eyes are soft as he looks over his wife. For just a moment that awful feeling, the petrifying fear he felt when he walked into the lobby, sneaks back up on him. He feels his chest tighten, his throat constrict. How close had he come to losing her today?

Grace reaches into the bag, takes out a chip, and begins to nibble on it. Putting food in her mouth for the first time in hours makes her suddenly aware of how nasty her mouth tastes. Between not brushing her teeth that morning, eating nothing but pickles, then throwing up those pickles, she must have the worst breath in the world. But quickly she realizes that’s probably not true, how many sinners brush their teeth down here? Alastor didn’t brush his for almost the entirety of his afterlife, until they started dating. With that in mind she feels a little less insecure about it, though she still wishes she could have some mouthwash or something to get the taste of vomit out of the back of her throat.

The pair sit in relative silence for a while, aside from the rustle of the bag and occasional crunching. Both of them need a moment to just… process everything that’s happened. Alastor adjusts their positions a bit so that her legs can rest in his lap and he can carefully massage her calves. He doesn’t know how to comfort her, but he knows she’s sore and tired so he figures any kind of touch may help. He’s also carefully evaluating her health, trying to determine how much her muscle mass has deteriorated, as well as how they respond to touch.

Grace slowly eats her chips, which make her feel surprisingly better, having anything in her stomach really is better than nothing. She isn’t looking at the city, rather her eyes are glued to the sky. The bright ball that is heaven shines down on them, her chest hurts as she thinks about the people who reside there. There are millions, maybe even billions of souls up there, just as there are down here. She wonders if they know about the extermination. Are these people who supposedly earned their way into the good place complicit in the massacre of fellow human souls? Do they care not for their brothers, sisters, parents, children, third and fourth cousins, and friends who did not make it up there with them? Even if such horrors are concealed from them, how could the hierarchy that looks after them truly be considered good if they so gleefully come down here to slaughter…

Her mind wanders again to the unborn child in her womb, and her heart rate picks up as she wonders if she will ever see it be born. Even if they have not lost the baby yet, will she even survive to her due date? Six months. Six f*cking months. She doesn’t know how far along she is but she is certain she will be due sometime in the vicinity. The extermination could come while she is still pregnant, and an angel who cares little for whose skin they break with their blade may strike her down. Or if she gives birth before the dreadful day, she may be too weak to protect her newborn properly. What if she and Alastor fall, leaving their infant orphaned in this awful place? Or worse what if she must watch her child die at the hands of one of those monsters? A chip shatters in her hand as the thought of a baby’s dying screeches fill her mind.

“Grace…?” Alastor looks over at her, and sees her shaking hand as it tightly grips a shard of fried potato.

Her phone crackles and a voice barely comes through, “I’m s-rr-, I’m -o s-rry…”

The radio demon is unsure how to react, what to say. Just a little bit ago he had seen that flare of her former self. Her energy, her bite, her dazzling light as she lectured him. For a moment he thought she was back from the darkness, but it seems as though such a thing is inescapable.

He picks up her phone and hands it to her, “You have nothing to be sorry for my dear, but if you must speak please write it out, you shouldn’t be pushing yourself…”

Grace looks between the phone, and the sliver of chip still left in her hand. After a second she lifts her hand, shoves the potato piece into Alastor’s mouth, and takes the phone from him. He blinks in a stunned confusion, and almost spits it out. He finds junk food to be rather unappetizing, but instead he just quietly swallows it, begins to pick up the crumbs on her lap, and incinerates them with small green flames while she types out a message.

When she holds the device up again he has to squint to read. The glare of the screen has always been rather difficult for him to make heads or tails of the tiny font. After a moment she pulls it back, and he starts to say he wasn’t done, but she holds up a ‘one moment’ finger while adjusting the brightness and increasing the text size. She holds it up again, and he finds himself able to read it much more easily.

“Thank you my love,” Alastor responds before reading her message.

He doesn’t notice her small smirk as she mouths, ‘no problem old man.’ Now is not the time for such jokes, and yet that little spark of herself is still in there, still fighting, still trying to be just a little sassy even in the face of such an abysmal day. But that smirk falls quickly as she is dragged back under to the depths of despair while waiting for her husband to finish reading.

-this is all my fault. i make your lfie so much harder by being in it. if i had never mdae that call then you wouldnt have to deal with all this BS. youd be busy being a powerful overlord causnig chaos and having teh time of your afterlife but instaed you have to take care of me. im your weakness and you have to cower before those idiots in order to keep em safe-

It takes a minute for him to read the full message. She’s looking out the window as he works his way through it. Once he’s done he takes a moment to follow her gaze, she’s fixated on the streets, watching demons walk about, in the distance they are like ants. In the back of the demon’s mind it’s difficult to avoid thinking about how things used to be simpler. He was powerful, he was feared, he answered to nobody. But it wasn’t enough, he wanted more might, to be on top. She is the one who called him first, but it was he who reached out and truly made the connection. The former version of himself would blame her for all his woes, they are tied to her after all. His deal, the fact that he must play nice to that irritatingly positive princess, and all the anxiety he’s struggling with as of late.

Alastor mentally notes that it appears the phone’s battery is running low, so he should not allow this conversation to drag on for too long, “I made my choices. And I do not regret them one bit. My afterlife is different, but that does not mean it’s worse. I can handle the difficulties that come with this path we are walking, you need not blame yourself for them.”

Grace clears her screen and types out a new message, Alastor leans over so he can read it as she types.

-but if i hadnt called you…-

He interupts her by kissing her forehead and saying, “then my afterlife would be bland and boring because you would not in it…” It’s true, after decades of terrorizing the pride ring, he had begun to grow uninspired by the time her little phone call made its way to his radio station. Obtaining her power was meant to help him find motivation again. Never had he expected that it would be the girl behind the power that would become his muse. For as stressful as these past few years have been, especially these last weeks, it has also been the most exciting adventure he’s been on in his life and afterlife. Did he always think that? No, that’s a new thought. But he believes it with all of his half-dead heart.

She begins to type again;

-but if i hadnt gotten pregnant…-

“We’ve been over this my love, it takes two to make a baby…” He kisses her forehead once more.

-but…-

Alastor moves suddenly, without thinking, even with all that is going on it is rare for him to do something without thinking it through first. His lips move from her forehead to her mouth, capturing her in a gentle kiss. His left hand quickly pulls his glove off his right and then…

His right pushes up her shirt and comes to rest on her stomach. It’s not the first time he’s laid hands on the baby bump. A handful of nights he felt its warmth while she slept, trying with all his might to force himself to accept what is growing within it. Now, after a day of fighting with himself, his anxieties, his insecurities, he can not allow her to go another moment thinking that he believes this pregnancy to be a burden. It is still a small bump sure, but the curve feels perfect beneath his fingers.

Grace trembles beneath his touch, eyes watering as she is flooded with emotions. At first she kisses back, joy and hope filling every nook and cranny of her body as she feels his cold skin against hers. For a brief moment she feels utter bliss at the sensation, the recognition of the life growing within her. Recognition by the one person she seeks it from the most. To finally feel her child’s father place his hands upon the life vessel she is carrying is all she has wanted for weeks. A beautiful moment that should be the first of many. And yet…

She pulls away from the kiss, her throat choking with silent sobs as pushes her face into his shoulder to conceal her tears. He does not need to ask what is wrong now, because he feels it too. The ache of regret that this moment may have come too late. The fear that she may in fact no longer be a vessel of life, and now may merely be a walking coffin. At this stage they have no way to know, there are no movements or kicks to reassure them. No doctors to examine her. All they can do is hope, pray that this touching moment is not too little too late. But like his wife, Alastor has no idea who to even pray to.

“I’m s-sorr-,” Grace’s voice begins to crackle through her phone again. “It’s p--bably de-d and it’s m- f-ult.” Her sobs are half vocalized through the device.

Alastor holds her tighter, “It is not your fault, it’s not.” This… this he might trade back for his old life, this grief that is pushing against the edges of his emotions. This tragedy on the horizon that he feels like he can not prevent. “You were so strong, you’ve been doing such an incredible job despite everything, and I’m so proud of you.” The world around them begins to fade to static, he remembers the agony that he felt every time he thought the cancer had claimed her, he does not know if he could survive the intensity of that feeling if he were to actually lose her or their child. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you…”

Grace wraps her arms around him, and allows him to bring his face down into her shoulder, the way hers is on his. She feels his body shake as he tries not to cry. Feels his right hand tense against her belly. For all the power that exists between the two of them, it is meaningless if they can not save their own poor child.

Their moment of grief and fear is interrupted by a knock on the door.

Chapter 34

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor’s gaze snaps to the door as he pulls away from Grace. At least whoever is interrupting them has the sense to knock. He takes a deep breath, trying to reel himself in. While he had been on her shoulder his signature smile had dropped and now he has to get it back on his face. He feels naked without his grin, and yet his cheeks hurt trying to force it back into place.

There is another knock, “Al… I brought some of the sh*t from her room, figured she might need more or those nutritional packs or something so I grabbed the medicine cooler first…” Husk’s voice comes through the door, muffled by the heavy wood.

The overlord’s shoulders relax a bit. He still can’t show weakness in front of the bartender, but at least he knows that if he slips up then the cat will be bound to silence regarding whatever he witnesses. He kisses his wife’s forehead again, adjusts her position so she is comfortable against the pillows of the seating nook, then stands.

Grace grabs hold of his arm before he can walk away, he does not resist as she pulls him close to her again. She quickly raises a hand and uses her sleeve to wipe his cheeks. Alastor hadn’t realized how wet with tears they were.

“Thank you, my love,” he whispers, smile softening for a moment as it becomes genuine. “I’ll get you a moment to compose yourself…” He takes a step back and falls into the shadows, reappearing moments later on the other side of the door.

Husk jumps, his fur standing up as realizes that Alastor is suddenly behind him, “f*cking hell, do you have to do that? Couldn’t you have just opened the door?”

Alastor chuckles, doing his best to put up a creepy facade despite how much his mind is swirling, “Gracie is not prepared for visitors at the moment,” he looks down and sees the medical cooler up against the wall, as well as the IV stand which Husk must have retrieved from the lobby. Additionally the cat has a clean shirt from Grace’s wardrobe thrown over his shoulder. “We can head in after she has had some time to put herself together.” He is almost impressed by the initiative that his little pet has taken in prioritizing which items to bring up first.

There is even a small bag of snacks sitting by the cooler, he doesn’t recognize everything that he sees in it. Certainly the beast consumes more than just booze and the birds he catches outside on his break, so he must have his own food supply, and seems to have contributed some of it as a kind of peace offering.

“How is she doing…?” Husk asks tentatively. After what he’d seen today he did have some concern for the girl, but it’s difficult to overcome his spite for her husband and allow himself to show any real empathy.

Alastor doesn’t really respond, his eyes dart to the side and he fidgets with his bowtie. He is uncomfortable revealing his concerns about his wife’s health, “she’ll be… better soon…”

The bartender takes a small risk, “and… how’s the baby…?” He still can not fathom the fact that his master is about to be a father. Though he had initially feared that the girl was some kind of breeding slave to make an ultra powerful kid, those concerns were wiped out as soon as he saw the way the two interact. Perhaps in the back of his mind he still worries for her, but he knows that nobody gets to talk to Al like that without him biting back, so they way he just took the verbal lashing… clearly there’s more going on there than he initially assumed.

Again Alastor does not immediately respond, his eyes glaze over for a moment, before he refocuses, “we have no way to know how the child is doing, so we will have to wait and see.”

Husk nods in understanding, and there is an awkward silence between the two before asks, without looking at the other demon, “and how are… you… holding up Al?”

The radio demon’s shoulder’s stiffen and his left ear flicks, he half turns his head to look at his little ‘pet,’ “I am fine Husker.”

“Are you though?” He crosses his arms, avoiding eye contact, “Cause you know it’s okay if you ain’t…”

“If I was anything less than fine do you really think I would tell you?” Alastor replies with a sneer. As if he’d ever show his weakness, to Husk of all demons.

He grits his teeth, and his tail swishes a bit, “fine, sue me for trying to be nice to you asshole.”

“I don’t need you to be nice to me Husker,” the taller demon summons his cane and begins to spin it in his hands, something he doesn’t realize that Husk knows is his ‘tell.’ He plays with his cane when he’s stressed, and doesn’t even realize that he does it so often that it’s a dead giveaway, at least to a gambler who’s whole business is reading people. “I need you to do as I say. And I say the only person you need to worry about is Gracie. Tend to her needs and watch over her. Oh, and…” Alastor takes a deep breath, “when you are with her, you will speak to her, not around her. Do not treat her as an inanimate object just because she can not always speak up.”

This time it’s Husk’s ear that twitches, does Al really think so little of him? Thinks that the cat would treat a lady as callously as that, “You don’t need to worry about that, I’ve been doing just fine up till now, it’s the others you have to worry about. But I am guessing that this is a… problem you two have had before?”

Alastor nods, “It was happening earlier, I was going to call them out on it, but I… was too busy being part of the problem.” He admits this only because Husk was present and therefore already witnessed how a whole conversation about Grace’s future took place around her without her getting the chance to speak up for herself. “But during the year on Earth that she was voiceless I saw it happen fairly frequently. Only her housemate Brian, a… human who knew who I was, treated her with respect.”

“She had a male roommate?” Husk raises an eyebrow, “and you were okay with that?” He had not often thought about what Alastor would be like in a relationship, but since learning that he was married, he had assumed the other overlord would be the insanely possessive and jealous type.

“He is strictly hom*osexual, so there was no reason to be concerned. And because he was also a nurse I honestly felt more comfortable having him be there to watch over her when I could not,” Alastor begins to wonder if he’s given Grace long enough to get her emotions back in check. “I would put on a human disguise when his friends visited, and they would consistently ignore her, and attempt to have I or Brian communicate for her because they could not be bothered to take the time to read what she had to say. Suffice to say he is not friends with many of them anymore. But apparently when he would take her to her appointments, even the doctors would ignore her in favor of speaking to him.”

Husk makes a mental note that it sounds like Grace has been sick for a while, he guesses that her voice loss and her frail figure are somehow connected, and that they were wrong about the radio demon starving her, but then his mind takes note of something else that he said, “Wait, you have a human disguise?” Perhaps it is just some stage makeup and a wig or something, because it’s fairly common knowledge that the magic necessary to make a sinner appear as a human is rare and difficult to obtain, even for an overlord.

“Indeed, I can use it for limited amounts of time on Earth, but it does not function down here,” before Husk can ask any more questions, Alastor knocks on the door, “Gracie, are you decent?”

After a moment of silence he realizes that Grace may not be able to respond, especially if her phone finally died. Alastor opens the door just a bit and pokes his head in. His wife is still sitting at the window, she seems to have gotten herself to stop crying and has wiped away most of her tears, so she gives him a thumbs up.

He pushes the door the rest of the way open, and enters, leaving Husk to haul the cooler in, “We have your medical stuff dear, how about we get you into bed and we can set up the IV?”

The bartender struggles to drag the cooler in while also carrying the bag of snacks. He doesn’t bother complaining about being left to do it himself, he knows it won’t get him anywhere. Anyways he’s too busy to talk, he’s rolling all this new information around in his mind. His master not only has access to the surface, but he’s also in possession of a human disguise. He knew that the radio demon made a deal seven years ago, selling his soul to an unknown party, and now he is beginning to realize what Al got out of the deal.

Grace can only nod in response, her phone did indeed die. She raises her arms so he can pick her up again, wrapping them around his neck as he lifts her from the spot. She watches as Husk gets the IV stand and cooler over to one side of the large bed.

After a few minutes they manage to get her changed into the clean shirt that was brought up for her, and set up the stand with a nutritional pack and a little bit of saline. There are some concerns about giving her straight saline after she lost a bunch of blood, but none of them know medical stuff to really be certain if it’s a good or bad thing. She needs hydration regardless, and a little bit of fluid can’t hurt right? They’ll just keep an eye on her.

The cat demon is silent for most of the set up, he focuses on the tasks Alastor gives him, and doesn’t look directly at either of them. Part of him wants to watch their dynamic more and figure out the depth of their relationship, but he also knows that if he’s caught staring then the punishment would not be worth the reward.

Alastor tries to pull back the covers so he can get her tucked in, but Grace shakes her head and points to the window, it’s too early to go to sleep. He figures out pretty easily what she is trying to convey, but for Husk it takes a moment.

“You should get some sleep dear, even if it’s just a nap.” Alastor pats her head gently.

It’s not the condescending or fake way that he’ll pat somebody like Charlie, Husker immediately picks up on how much more tender it is, he clears his throat and pulls a crumpled sheet of paper out of his back pocket, “I found this, while I was getting stuff from your room, it’s a little burnt but some of it’s still readable, and I thought maybe you’d like it back.” He hands over a half burnt list of baby names.

Grace takes it, wide eyed, it feels like ages ago that she and Niffty were working on this thing. Most of it is illegible now, save a few lines here and there.

“Oh, and what is that?” Alastor leans over to try and read it.

Being completely mute with her phone now dead, Grace must attempt to pantomime everything she wants to say, which her husband has no problem taking the time to interpret. She places a hand on her belly, then tries to mouth the word ‘name.’

The word takes a moment for him to click on, but he gets there, “Baby… names, how… sweet…” He is still struggling to reconcile the differences between the person he was this morning and the person he is after all the sh*t that has happened today. He is not particularly enthusiastic about having to think about this stuff, but he is not immediately repelled by the idea the way he would have been before. Reading through the parts that are legible, he quickly recognizes the second set of handwriting. “Niffty helped you with this, Gracie?”

Husk blinks as he hears his boss say that line, something occuring to him.

Grace nods, she’s smiling brighter than she has in days, for a moment she has forgotten the possibility that these names may never get the chance to be used.

“She certainly has some… interesting ideas,” Alastor grins. He isn’t ready to say it, but of the ones in his wife’s handwriting he’s not particularly opposed to them. It’s mostly the floral names on the girl’s side that have survived. “I think I can picture having a little ‘Lily’ if it turns out to be a girl.”

That seals it. “You have a thing for girls whose names end in the ‘e’ sound…” Husk mutters, then freezes as he realizes that came out wrong and now both of them are glaring at him. “I don’t mean like that, f*ck, like you seem to surround yourself with girls with names like that,” that doesn’t seem to be helping. “Nifft-y, Charl-ie, Vagg-ie, and I know you’re friends with that one cannibal lady, Ros-ie, our ‘friend’ Mimz-y,” His body relaxes a bit as he sees the two start to think about what he’s saying, “Her name is Grace right? But you call her Grac-ie. And now you’re saying you might name your daughter Lil-y.”

Grace leans back, a thought is in her mind but she can’t quite grasp it all the way, nor communicate it.

Alastor opens his mouth as if to speak but instead finds himself… speechless. An incredibly rare occurrence. Had he done that intentionally? Surrounded himself with names that have the same ending sound? No it’s a coincidence, right? It has to be. What would be more likely than it being deliberate, would be if he was just a character in a fanfiction. What would be more likely than him making the conscious choice would be that the author noticed that all the women his character is close to have this similar naming thing, then gave his wife a nickname with the same ending sound. It might even be more likely that the author didn’t even notice that the nickname that only HE calls her matches up until very recently, and decided that the best way to call it to the attention of their readers would be to make a silly little fourth wall break. That would certainly be more likely than him deliberately surrounding himself with women whose names end with the ‘e’ sound, right?

“Hey Al, what was your mother’s name…” Husk asks with a smirk. He’s not totally aware of the soft spot the radio demon has for his mother, but he’s suspected it’s existence for a while.

Grace sits up a bit, that’s what was in the back of her mind, but Husker beat her to it.

The way the whole room instantly fills with static makes him regret just about every choice he’s ever made in his life though. “Forget it, f*ck I didn’t say anything forget it.” He begins to shake as the radio demon grows a couple inches suddenly, and his antlers begin to extend rapidly.

Grace glances at her husband, and feels a touch of sadness. She knows the real reason he is angry at the implication. Although he can remember the general details of his human life, Alastor had once confided in her that when he woke up as a demon he found that many of the specifics were fuzzy, and as time went on he forgot more and more. He is not upset because Husk was poking at private details, but rather because he in fact does not recall his own mother’s name, despite how much he adored her.

She places a hand on his arm, and the static begins to die down. His antlers retract and he returns to his normal size. He places his own hand over hers, but makes no other move that could show weakness with his subordinate present.

“I believe it is time you headed back to her room to finish backing up Husker,” Alastor hisses, his eyes still glinting with malice.

“Yeah, yeah I should do that, I’ll get right on that…” Husk responds, backing away slowly. “It was nice getting to properly meet you Mrs. Grace, let me… let me know if you need anything.” He bolts out of the room before either of them can respond.

As soon as the door shuts, Alastor practically collapses, sitting beside his wife on the bed, “I hate that cat…”

Grace rolls her eyes, she’s sure he’s telling the truth, but also thinks that maybe his hatred for the other demon is not quite as strong as he usually feels towards other people. If he really hated Husker then he wouldn’t have allowed him to slide on his ‘failure’ to keep her safe. Part of her knows that he’s going to still punish the bartender, when she’s not around. But there is little she can do to stop him from doing things she’s not present for. Still, she feels confident that it won’t be as severe a punishment as he might have gotten if Alastor did not favor the cat as much as she suspects he does.

She decides to try and distract her husband from his anger by leaning against him and holding up the paper of names again, she points to one at the bottom. ‘A.J.’ there seems to be something written before it but it’s smudged.

“A.J is an initial… do you have a full name decided or do you just like the sound of that?” He kisses her on the top of the head, moving to put an arm around her waist as he waits for her to figure out how to answer.

She knows immediately how to describe it though. One of her hands comes to rest on his chest, and the other makes a pinching motion like ‘little.’

It takes him a little longer than he’d like to admit, but as soon as he knows he feels a strange warmth in his body, “Alastor Jr…” That’s right, this child isn’t just some random baby he’ll be expected to care for. It’s his baby, the beginning of his lineage. A legacy he never expected to have. Despite his reservations in the past, he quite likes the idea of having it.

Chapter 35

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor gets Grace to eat some of the snacks Husker brought. Hopefully the combination of solid and IV nutrition will be enough to get her strength back, assuming the food stays down that is. Meanwhile the others in the hotel have their own business to attend to.

Husk is still packing up anything in Grace’s room that survived that fire.

Charlie and Vaggie are having a conversation regarding what ‘best behavior’ is around Alastor and Grace going forward.

Niffty is still preparing the eggs for her new play. She doesn’t want to clean right now, because if she cleans then she will think about the giant mess in Grace’s room. But she can’t do anything about the giant mess in that room. It’s going to need to be rebuilt anyways, so she needs to wait for Alastor’s instructions on how best to proceed.

Angeldust is on his way out of the hotel. He took a quick shower to clean off the soot and junk, then threw on a fresh outfit, so he’s nice and clean. After all the chaos that just happened he has somewhat forgotten certain details that his brain deems ‘unimportant.’ For example, while getting dressed he completely forgot that the cute necklace he’s putting back on isn’t his own. He’s trying to sneak out without anybody noticing him, but Niffty is right by the front doors.

He quickly puts on his pink sunglasses and crouches a bit as he tries to sneak around behind her, as though it may stop her from realizing that he’s there. But Niffty is far more observant that people give her credit for, that one giant eye really sees all.

“Are you running away?” She says without looking up from the sheets of paper she has scattered on the floor between her and the eggs. “I wouldn’t blame you, Alastor is scary when he is mad.” Her voice almost seems sad. She has never been fearful of the radio demon, never really minded the carnage he causes, but part of her kind of hates how he always drives everybody around her away.

“What?!” It sparks a memory in the back of Angel’s mind, something he’d forgotten a long time ago. Sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night after an ‘argument’ with his father, and his sister waking up and asking him the same thing. “No, no Niffty I wouldn’t just run out on you I swear.” He moves so he can stand where he thinks her peripheral vision would be, “I’m going to go and try to find Pentious, bring him back to the hotel.”

“Oh!” She smiles, then tilts her head to the side, “but why?”

“Well… I’m worried Alastor may use a loophole in the deal he and Charlie made, and go out and hurt the guy. The way they phrased it made it sound as though only Charlie’s people here at the hotel are safe.” He folds one pair of arms, and rests the other pair on his hips. “If Pentious has bailed on us then he no longer counts as a part of the hotel, which means he’s not under the deals protection. And since he’s the one who actually injured that human of his…”

“Oh yeah, Alastor would totally take advantage of a loophole like that, if he wasn’t busy taking care of Gracie then he’d probably be out there hunting him down right now!'' The cyclops resumes scribbling on the sheets of paper with the crayons she stole from Charlie’s planning desk. “The hotel’s redemption thing must be working better than we thought, for you to be willing to go out of your way to help the fake bad boy.” She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, a knowing grin creeping onto her face.

The spider decides not to mention the fact that this is more about the fact that he wants to use the snake as a meat shield if things go south. It seems like Niffty may already have an inkling that’s the case. He doesn’t want to have to throw Pentious under the bus, but he already knows that this deal Charlie made is going to go bust. Either Alastor is going to snap and go back on it and kill them anyways, or the human is going to miscarry and they will all be utterly f*cked. He saw her power much closer than the others did, and has no intention of getting another look at it if they lose their baby. After all, Pentious isn’t the only one who f*cked up, Angel can’t stop thinking about the fact that he held a gun to the head of Alastor’s f*cking wife. So he needs that bastard to be a sacrificial lamb to hopefully spare him from destruction, or at least give him a few extra minutes to get away.

He takes a step closer to the cluster of egg minions, crouches down, and asks in his sweetest ‘i need something’ tone asks, “Hey little guys, where does your boss like to hang out? Is there anywhere he goes when he gets scared?”

The eggs scratch their heads, Frank pipes up first, “there’s this place on the west side of the pentagram that he’ll go after we blow stuff up! But we aren’t allowed inside.” He goes on to roughly describe a bar that Angel is fairly familiar with in that part of town.

Another egg pipes up, “Sometimes we take the war balloon up to the top of heaven’s hourglass to eat ice cream cones on our birthdays!!” Not really as helpful given that the warship is still docked next to the hotel, but good to know, Angel and Niffty will both stick that information in their back pockets.

One in the back raises his hand, “Sometimes we go to the junkyards to look for parts when he has new designs!” Makes sense, he may have the money to buy weapons, but he builds a lot of crap so he’s gotta have a source for scrap metal and such. Angel decides he’ll check the nearest one, maybe Pentious is building something to defend himself with, in case Alastor comes to get him.

He is about to stand straight again and be on his way, but he realizes something. Aside from the strange egg things, it’s only him and Niffty down in the lobby right now. Everybody else is busy so if he wanted to try and get information about this whole situation, now would be the time.

“Sooo Nif, that human…” he begins.

“Gracie,” the maid turns to him and holds out her crayon the way she would when she’s threatening somebody with one of her big needles, “Her name is Gracie, not ‘that human’ why are you treating her like she’s an animal?”

Angel pauses and actually thinks about that, he doesn’t think he’s treating her like an animal per say but… he’s definitely not been treating her like a person. While normally that wouldn’t bother him, there’s something about her being an actual living soul rather than some demon who’s earned their place in hell that makes his stomach turn a bit when he thinks about his own words and actions today. He knows fairly well how bad it feels to be treated like he’s not even human, which is why he’s so comfortable doing so to others, but for some reason he feels like maybe she doesn’t deserve that kind of sh*t.

“Alright then… Gracie, what can you tell me about her?” he asks,

Niffty shrugs, “what do you want to know?”

“How long has she been here?” His legs are starting to cramp from crouching, so despite how gross the floor is he opts to sit down beside her. He’s probably going to get icky searching the junkyard anyways, he can just take another shower when he gets back.

“Since Alastor got here,” the maid is doodling on the sheets of paper now, “well, apparently she was with a friend of theirs when she first came down, but it wasn’t safe there.”

The spider raises an eyebrow, “so then… was the reason Alastor offered to help Charlie in the first place just so he could have a place to stow her?”

She shrugs again, “I guess so? I think there might be another reason.” It seems she’s making crude drawings of the various people of the hotel, starting with Charlie. “But it’s a long shot, and he’d never tell any of us if it was the case.”

“What do you think the reason is?” Angel is remembering now that it was Alastor who brought Niffty into the hotel, so presumably they have some kind of history. Although he will have to assume half the sh*t that comes out of her mouth will be totally incorrect bullsh*t, he can probably glean a little bit of insight into the creepy f*ck and his plans.

“He wants a way for Gracie to get into heaven,” she replies without looking up. “He might never want to go up there himself, but I think that maybe he secretly wants to see the hotel be successful, so that there will be a way for her to earn a ticket to the top”

Angeldust pauses, leaning back and folding both sets of arms, then says, “why would he do that? If he doesn’t want to go up, then that means they’ll be separated for all of time.”

Niftty now appears to be trying to draw Charlie and Vaggie holding hands, “if he loves her lots and lots and lots, then he won’t want her to have to stay down here and risk being exterminated. If he loves her enough then he’d be willing to be separated from her for her own good, oooooor…” she drags out the last word, then snaps her mouth shut and focuses on her doodling.

“Or what Nif?” He leans forward now, interest peaked.

She waves a hand, “you won’t take it seriously anyways.”

“I will, I promise,” he probably won’t.

She begins to add Grace to her drawings, but seems to struggle to do anything to make it look like her other than having short brown hair and green eyes, she seems to be trying to make her look thinner than the others in her doodles, but keeps scribbling it out and trying again, “Well, if he really really really love loves her, and wants her to be safe, but doesn’t want to be separated from her, then maybe he’ll try redemption too, so they can be safe up in heaven together and he can see his mommy again.”

Angel blinks slowly as he listens, then tries not to laugh, it’s an impossible idea. “I doubt that Nif, and anyways how would he get his kid up there, like I doubt the redemption process is going to work on people who were born half demon.” He’s barely known the guy for two weeks, but from the vibe he’s picked up from him, there is no interest there in getting to the pearly gates.

Niffty knew that the spider was lying when he said he would take it seriously, “It’s probably not the case anyways, I’ve known him for a looooong time and I didn’t even know he had a wife until recently. So I doubt he has any plans on going up there.” She leans back and folds her arms, staring angrily at the papers, “but if a sinner was once a human, and Grace is a human, then technically their baby will be human. It will probably have a chance to get to heaven just like everybody else.”

He rolls his eyes, such a thought assumes that life is fair, that heaven really does consider everybody equal, and if they did well… then they wouldn’t be coming down here all the time to exterminate ‘human’ souls.

“You know, if you want to know things about Gracie,” the maid begins to pile her drawings and screenplay into one stack of papers, “Then you should really just ask her yourself.”

The spider tenses, the thought of talking to her, especially with her husband likely right over her shoulder, makes him queasy, “welp, I better get going to find Pentious. Before Alastor sneaks off to go kill him.” He stands quickly, avoiding eye contact with the girl. Of course he wants to know more about what’s going on, but talking to the human? That’s insane.

He quickly leaves before Niffty can call him out on avoiding the subject.

Chapter 36

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Grace’s phone is charging, but in the meantime she has no way to properly talk to her husband, and he has no words of comfort to offer because he is stuck in a spiral of doubt. Their silence is the most deafening sound that either have ever experienced. It makes them aware of every little thing around them. The screams from the city, muffled by the window but still audible. The way her heartbeat is way too slow. The impending sense of doom that makes the air suffocating and unbearable.

They can’t even communicate via her writing things down because she is too tired, and her hand is shaking too badly. The only thing Alastor wants is to hold a conversation with her, to talk about anything to take his mind off the fact that he failed to protect her. But they don’t really get much time to try and find a solution to the dark aura that has surrounded them, as the woman’s body has decided that the food she ate needs to come back up NOW.

Once he gets her to the toilet, all Alastor can do is sit on the bathroom floor and hold her as she vomits up potato chips and a granola bar into the toilet. Her face is soaked in tears again as she coughs and retches. His hand is gently rubbing the small of her back, but she is so light headed, so nauseous, in so much pain that she barely feels it. The wound on her shoulder makes her feel like her arm is being ripped off every time her body lurches. She can’t even think about the baby, think about the fear of losing it, because at this point she feels like she is the one who is dying. And maybe she’s being dramatic, but she has enough experience now to know what dying feels like.

Alastor is not accustomed to feeling useless. It happens rarely, and when it does it is usually because of something to do with Grace. Sitting with her now, while she is weak and they are unsure if their baby is still alive, invokes the same sensation of inadequacy that sitting with her in the hospital while she was near death did. The first time he felt that way his immediate response was frustration, anger. He was still new to this whole ‘caring’ business, and back then he blamed the human for making him feel powerless. Now that feeling of helplessness is far worse than ever. But he loves her far too deeply to blame her for it. He is able to understand, or at least think he understands, that this is his fault, it was his job to protect them, if he’s feeling useless now then it is only because he failed.

“It’s okay…” Alastor says softly, “You’re…you’re going to be okay…” He is doing his best to not start crying again. The overlord can’t risk being caught being vulnerable now.

And he’s right to be concerned about being caught. Just as Grace is leaning back against his chest and he is beginning to wipe her face with a wet washcloth, the door to the main room opens suddenly.

“Alastor!!” Charlie doesn’t even think about knocking, not just because it’s technically her room, but because she does have a bit of a problem with recognizing boundaries and privacy, “I need to know what blood type to get.” She is currently pressing her cellphone to her ear, it seems she is on a call with somebody.

There is a brief moment where they make eye contact through the open bathroom door, but it is swiftly interrupted by his shadow tentacles slamming it shut.

“Told you not to go in there…” Husk mutters from the hallway. This time he has returned with suitcases full of Grace’s clothes, he almost looks like a bellhop, all he needs is a little hat.

Charlie, undeterred, approaches the bathroom and knocks rapidly on the door. “Alastor! I can have blood and medicines here in twenty minutes if you tell me what her blood type is. But the procurement guys only have a minute or so until their portal closes! They say there’s no O negative so we need her exact blood type!” Her blood practically freezes as the radio demons suddenly appears behind her.

“Please step away from the door and lower your voice Charlie,” he says, his eyes cold. “Gracie does not need the extra excitement at the moment. Her blood type is A positive, and if your ‘guys’ can also get some saline while they are there that would help immensely. We use it to keep her hydrated and I have the last bag hooked up now…” Luckily Alastor was able to swiftly yet delicately get Grace to the toilet without ripping her IV out, and since they placed a protective layer of disinfectant and gauze around the site so it should be safe from being dirties so long as she does not vomit directly on it.

“You get that?” Charlie turns her attention back to her phone call and steps away from the door as the overlord uses his cane to shoo her. “A positive, and we need saline, and by the sounds of it the anti-nausea meds are going to be really important so grab as many of those are you can…” she pauses, “but like, not all of them, because if somebody there needs them and they are totally out then that would be mean… I know you don’t care about being mean but… just… okay okay… no this is a personal matter we don’t need to involve… yeah… okay I will pay you extra if you DON’T tell my dad about this…”

While the princess deals with her people on the phone, Alastor moves towards the center of the room and gestures for Husk to enter, “Clothing?”

“Yeah but they’re going to need to be washed,” the bartender says as he drags the suitcases in. “There was a lot of smoke from the fire and while that half of the room was safe, the clothes definitely smell funny.”

“Wait,” the radio demon bristles, “All that I was told is that the floor collapsed after the snake went off with his ray gun. I was not informed of any fire”

“Well she was cleared of the room before it turned into an actual fire,” Husk replies, taking a step back, “So it didn’t seem important at the time….”

“Husker…exactly how much damage am I going to be looking at repairing?” Alastor’s smile twitches.

“The room is…” Husk pauses, and glances at Charlie, pleading for help, but she is still on the phone, “The room is pretty much toast. You’re going to have to f*cking rip everything out, carpet, wallpaper, the furniture is scorched, and honestly you’ll probably have to knock down most of the non structural bullsh*t and rebuild because I sure as f*ck wouldn’t trust the stability of any of that crap after what that room went through.”

“How, in the name of Satan himself, did you all manage to destroy it that badly!” His antlers grow a bit with his rage.

“Listen man, the floor may have been f*cking Penious, but the fire was your wife’s doing,” the cat flinches as he feels his leash tighten a bit. “I’m not blaming her or anything, f*ck, she was just trying to protect herself and sh*t got out of hand.” He chokes a bit, “she melted Angel’s f*cking gun, like molten god damn metal, it caught the carpet on fire and we couldn’t keep the flames out because it was so damn hot.”

“The spider had his gun out?” He’s a few inches taller, “He was pointing his gun at my wife?!”

Husk coughs a bit as he struggles against his invisible collar, “Yeah, he sorta… held it to her head… “ He shouldn’t say that, but he doesn’t know what else to say to get out of this mess. Damn it he didn’t do anything this time why is he always getting the short end of the f*cking stick?

The radio demon opens up his senses to the hotel, he may not have eyes and ears everywhere like his old pal does with the rest of the city, but he can at least send out his shadows to know who is present in the building. He’s going to find that spider, and smash him. But his anger only grows as he realizes he can’t find him, and his demonic form begins to grow even more. Husk is forced to cower and watch as his master grows more and more fustrated.

“Whoa whoa whoa!!” Charlie steps between the two, hands up, Alastor immediately returns to his normal form, as though pretending that he wasn’t going feral a split second ago. “Remember! No killing anybody in my hotel as long as your baby is okay!”

“Well dear, I’m sorry to say that your little p*rnagraphy star seems to have run away, which means he no longer falls under the protection of the deal, the snake as well,” Alastor remains somewhat calm as he says this, he has no intention of running after the demons now, there is more important things to do at the moment. But he is already envisioning the gruesome things he will inflict on them.

“What, no… Angel wouldn’t do that…” the princess’ face falls, “neither would Sir Pentious, they both want to be redeemed.”

Alastor is about to speak again but is interrupted by dear Niffty entering the room, “Angel didn’t run away! He went to bring back Pentious!” She is leading the eggs like a commander leads troops in a parade, using her favorite feather duster as a baton to pump in the air with each step.

The eggs follow diligently. This has been the most fun day they have ever had. First they got to go for a walk with the funny deer man, and go treasure hunting in a dumpster that had lots of fun things in it. Then they got to learn how to be actors from the little cyclops. They really are oblivious to all the chaos around them, and are just having the time

of their lives.

Alastor can’t have one nice thing today, can he? All he wants is to spill some blood to help blow off some steam. But noooo he has to play nice with the people who almost killed his wife and may have killed his child.

“Yeah, that sounds right, that sounds like something they would do!” Charlie puts her hands on her hips, “Angel knows about contract language, he wouldn’t run away because he knows that it would exempt him from protection. BUT Sir Pentious might not know that, so you should give Angel the chance to go find and tell him so he can make an informed decision. Because good people always help their friends make good choices so you have to give them time to make that choice…” She is sort of rambling now, just trying to say anything to convince the overlord not to go after them.

His smile is stretched as he makes eye contact with her, “I will give them twenty four hours to return…” Since he won’t be going after them immediately anyways, he might as well give them the time to correct their errors. “If they have not returned by the…” The demon stops suddenly as the sound of more retching comes from behind the bathroom door. Immediately he slips back into the shadows to transport himself to his wife’s side.

Husk just seems relieved to not be the center of attention anymore, and is trying to sneak off, but is interrupted as a portal opens near him and drops a large medical grade cooler on his foot. He lets off a string of expletives and jumps back. He really can’t catch a break lately.

Charlie rushes over and opens up the cooler, looking over its contents and mumbling a list to herself, “blood… antibiotics…okay.. Okay good…” She looks tired, but this seems to bring some hope back to her eyes.

Niffty also comes over and peeks her head in to look at the medical supplies, “Ooooo, blooood.” Her cackling is a bit concerning, so Husk picks her up and holds her away from it before she does something impulsive.

Once she’s confirmed that everything is in the cooler, she shuts it, and uses it as a stool so she can sit. “Alastor the blood is here! And the medicines!” She feels a bit of a weight off her chest, maybe things can finally start looking up. All she has to do is stay positive, everything will be okay if she stays upbeat, right?

After a moment, the radio demon appears by her side. Everybody in the room jumps, except for Niffty, who has been placed back down beside the eggs.

“You got everything?” Alastor’s voice is cold but his smile is still plastered on his face. He looks down at Charlie, practically towering over her where she sits.

“Everything you said to get in medical supplies, I’m still waiting on food but this should help right!” She looks up at him, forcing herself to smile to match his.

“Very well, you can go now, I shall get Gracie situated,” He points his cane at the main door, and it opens wide, indicating he wants them to leave now.

“Actually uh… Al there’s something else I need to talk to you about…” She stands, twisting her hands together nervously. “Your room… well her room… I’m worried about the structural damage. I stopped in there and there was this creaking noise. I’m afraid the whole place is going to fall into the floor below if we don’t get it reinforced right away. And if it collapses then who knows what may follow, I don’t want to lose that wholesection of the hotel.”

Alastor resists the urge to sigh, he is doing his best to maintain his composure. “I need to stay by her side and tend to her. I can not leave my wife alone, not after you ruffians have proven she is not safe here.”

“She is safe here, I promise,” Charlie says quickly, the guilt is gnawing at her stomach, she feels terrible that all of this happened under her watch. “Please, I just need to borrow you for a little bit.”

He mulls it over in his head, and glances at Husk and Niffty out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he can trust them to watch over her in his absence, after their spectacular failure today… “Very well, I will come and look the room over, and make any repairs that are urgently required to prevent further damage.” It is near his own room, so if a collapse were to happen then his own space would likely be dragged down as well, and he worked very hard to build his indoor swamp. He turns to the bartender, “Husker, you and Niffty will remain here. Once Gracie has finished up in the bathroom get her set up with a blood bag and the anti-nausea medications, I will administer the antibiotics when I return.”

Niffty raises her hand, “Can I show her my new play sir?”

The radio demon glances at the door, “she requires rest Niffty dear, but if she is feeling up to watching then it should be fine, but do not force it upon her.”

The maid excitedly turns to the eggs and instructs them to help her find the best place in the room to put on the performance if they are given the chance to.

Charlie watches as Alastor steps over to the bathroom door and knocks twice on it, “Gracie, my dear, I have to step out for a little bit. I shall still be in the hotel if you need me, and I won’t be gone any longer than necessary. Will you be alright?” He pauses, then adds on, “You can just knock twice if that’s alright…” A moment passes, then there are two weak knocks on the door. He wishes so badly that they could just talk, but this is how they must communicate it seems. “Very well, I shall return soon.”

The princess can’t help thinking about how differently he behaves with her. Even this small interaction through a door carries so much tender love and care that she didn’t even think he was capable of. The overlord has been doing his best to conceal that his wife is his weakness, but Charlie’s eyes see all… usually

Chapter 37

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

The halls feel darker than usual as Charlie and Alastor walk down them. The girl tries to convince herself it’s only her imagination, that because she is tense and nervous things seem off. But it is in fact not her mind playing tricks on her, as they walk the lights dim as they approach them, and return to normal after they’ve passed.

The overlord is working so hard to maintain his composure that his stress is leaking out in other ways. He’d be offended if anybody were to ever accuse him of ‘losing control’ of his powers. But unfortunately it seems like his shadows have decided to play around a little bit with the lighting in order to reflect his mood.

His mind is secretly racing despite his silence and broad smile. He left care instructions with Husker and Niffty. Blood, anti-nausea medication, get her to eat, make her comfortable… But did he forget something? Does she have any allergies he forgot to tell them about? No, she doesn’t have allergies, he knows that? Does he know? Of course he knows she has no allergies, he’s her husband, he memorized her medical records when she was hospitalized. Wait, when he was reading up on pregnancy stuff he may have read that sometimes the hormones can cause the woman to develop new allergies. What if she’s allergic to something in her food now? Or to cats? What if she has a reaction and he’s not there to get her help in time? If he had a heart it would be thundering, he’s definitely beginning to develop an ulcer at this point.

Charlie glances at him out of the corner of her eye as they walk. She’s holding her phone in case any of her other contacts get back to her about the other items she is trying to procure. She had hoped that by bringing the blood and medicine that Alastor would forgive her for the ultra f*ck up today. But to her it feels like this cold silence is just him still being angry at her. She jumps slightly as one of the lights flicker.

Honestly though Alastor isn’t even thinking about Charlie or being angry at her. His mind has begun to focus on the anxiety again, and how much he hates it. He never used to worry, was rarely scared, he doesn’t feel like himself anymore. He thinks about the metaphorical collar around his own neck, almost feels it the way Husker does when he pulls on it. It reminds him that, in a way, he isn’t himself anymore, he gave up his freedom for this woman. Now he can hardly stand to be apart from her, and at any moment he could be forcefully separated because their owners tug their leashes in different directions. The demon begins to fixate on how he knew something was wrong today, but he didn’t return, and she got hurt, his baby may have been hurt. But he also knows that if he succumbs to the fears every time he thinks something is wrong, then he will never be free of them. Yet if incidents like today happen again then it will make him feel guilty and reinforce his anxiety. He loathes and despises all of this, his brain has become like the snake that eats its own tail, consuming itself with the madness that has been born from his weakness, from his love…

Charlie decides to try and break the silence and ease the tension between them, “By the way Al…” Her voice betrays her nervousness, “I did talk with Vaggie about her behavior and the way she was treating you and Gracie…”

“Grace,” Alastor says with a bit of force, “I call her Gracie because she is my wife, you may call her Grace.”

“O-oh… but Niffty… sorry that’s how she introduced her,” she rubs her arm and walks with her eyes on her feet. “Anyways, Vaggie promised not to cause any more trouble… as long as you behave.”

“Well, I can assure you that I will behave,” He looks at the princess out of the corner of his eye, “so long as she does not cause any more trouble.”

They have reached the stairs, and begin to descend them to reach the floor that Alastor and Grace’s rooms are on. The stairwell is even more disturbing with the lighting acting up. The girl still hasn’t figured out that it’s not her being freaked out and imagining things but rather her walking companion’s aura messing with their surroundings.

In an attempt to keep herself from getting too spooked, Charlie decides to try and maintain a conversation with the overlord, hoping to get him to relax as well, “Soooo, how did you two meet…”

While the radio demon would really prefer to not talk about his personal life, especially with the princess of hell, he knows that he needs to begin rebuilding his ‘relationship’ with her, in order to continue potentially manipulating her. Unfortunately that means engaging in her frivolous conversations.

“She was able to call into my radio show,” despite his logical conclusion that he needs to rebuild trust with the princess, his mind is still awhirl with anxieties about his wife’s condition. Therefore tight now he’s not quite the conversationalist he usually is.

“Really?! From Earth?” Charlie’s eyes widen, and she looks up at him in disbelief.

“Indeed. I was rather impressed that she pulled it off,” he raises a hand to adjust his bowtie as he thinks back on the first time he heard her voice, he had no idea at the time that he would fall in love with the sound of it. “I maintained contact with her because it was… nice… to talk to somebody who was not a demon.”

“Aaaw, that’s so sweet,” she smiles, watching his body language. She thinks he’s being genuine, but she’s also really bad at being able to tell when people are lying. “And how long ago was that?”

“Nine years, it was shortly before that year's extermination,” His voice is stiff. Now he is thinking about the extermination and the dangers that will be coming down upon his head soon. He must maintain his smile, it can never drop around these people, but he can’t quite maintain his usual ‘excited radio host’ tone when he speaks.

Charlie opens the door for the floor they need to exit the stairs on, “and how long have you been married.”

“It has been about four years now,” His wedding ring suddenly feels incredibly heavy. Four stressful, wonderful years of marriage to the most incredible person he’s ever known. A woman he does not deserve in the slightest.

There is a moment where Charlie briefly wonders how legitimate their marriage is, if they just slapped a couple rings on and said they were married, or what? After all, how could a sinner and a living human actually get married? But she does not ask that, she realizes that would be an incredibly impolite question.

“What was your wedding like?” She asks instead, in part trying to ascertain the details she really wants.

He doesn’t respond at first, and she begins to think that she was right, then he says in a tone that is far softer than she was expecting, “It was the best day of my life, and afterlife…” The overlord had to take a moment to decide how honest to be, afterall he does not want anybody to know how dear Grace is to him, and see her as a weakness. But he supposes that if there’s one person he can share such a detail with it would be Charlie. “It was a small ceremony, due to logistics we could not do anything special, but the important part was that I had her, and she… had me…” The truth is he hesitated to call it the best day of his life, because it was so shortly followed by the worst day, a day he knew was coming. He married her because he knew what was coming. The worst day he has ever experienced, worse even then the day a bullet passed through his skull, was the day that her heart stopped. Less than four hours after they were married, she was dead.

Technically dead at least. But through the miracle of modern medicine, and a little bit of violet sparks, she was brought back. He still remembers the utter terror and despair as he watched the life leave her eyes. It was a feeling that he will share with nobody, it will haunt him forever, return to him every time she is in danger. But he will never tell anybody that he is capable of such an emotion.

There is a moment where Charlie senses the despair in him, but she can’t quite determine what it means. It seems like he cares deeply for his wife, so why would the topic of his wedding bring such a heavy mood to him? She suspects he may be lying about the legitimacy of the marriage, or… worse yet, that he may regret it. In her mind it makes sense, sinners are down here because they sin, so why would one of the overlords enter into a god-abiding marriage? It’s the antithesis of why they are in hell. Though perhaps that thought spawns from her naivety, the fact that she lacks an understanding of the nuances that come with being human.

Charlie begins to formulate ideas, she wants everybody redeemed, including Alastor. So, when things settle down she’ll start helping them with their marriage so that it passes whatever requirements necessary to be heaven approved!

If Alastor could hear the girl’s thoughts he would put a stop to them immediately. He has no interest in allowing somebody to meddle in his personal life. Especially somebody who knows so little about him. But he is in his own mind, still running lists of potential dangers while they walk, unable to read the mind of the person next to him.

“Are you excited about becoming a dad?” She asks suddenly, snapping him back to the present moment.

“Of course I am,” he responds just a little too quickly. Of course he is. Of course he isn’t. Of course he is. He wouldn’t be going to such lengths if he wasn’t excited right? No it’s not excitement it’s obligation and paternal instinct and… now he’s beginning to slip down a different rabbit hole so he changes the subject, “The people you employed to get those medical supplies, can they be trusted? It’s going to seem fairly obvious that the medicines were for a human…”

Charlie notices how his shoulders tensed up as he responded, and she begins to worry, but tries to brush it aside and focus on his question, “Oh yeah no it’s fine. If anybody asks then I’ll say it’s a human under my protection. It’s no big deal.”

Alastor stops walking as he tries to process what she just said, “I must have misheard. ‘It’s no big deal’? She is a human, in hell, that’s kind of a really big ‘deal’ from what I understand.”

“Well, I can see why you would think that. Bringing living souls down here is generally discouraged,” Charlie walks a few more steps, then stops as she realizes that the demon is no longer by her side. She turns back to look at him as she continues to explain, “But it’s not technically illegal. Of course they have to be here of their own free will, if a demon kidnaps a human and brings them down then there would be problems. Most hellborn don’t care about humans being here as long as they don’t cause trouble. It’s still very rare and taboo,” she shrugs, “but it’s technically allowed.”

“So, what you’re saying is… she will be able to stay here?” Alastor’s ears perk up, “In hell? If she wants to remain down here then I won’t have to fight somebody who may try to send her back?” He is thinking of a few people who may try something like that.

“Well, your case is a bit more… complicated…” she chuckles nervously, “you’re a sinner, so it is technically kind of illegal that you brought her here. Which is why I’d have to tell people I brought her down.”

“So, it is alright if a hellborn does it, but not a sinner,” he raises an eyebrow, “That hardly seems fair.“

Charlie twists her hands together a little bit, “I mean, sinners are in hell as a punishment for things they did in life. You’re going to have more restrictions than a hellborn would. And especially because you got her pregnant, that’s going to cause some serious issues down the line if we aren’t careful… you are sure it’s your baby right? Because that shouldn’t be possible… and I know I sense demonic energy from the baby but like is there any chance that…” She jumps a little as a light flickers, she’s starting to realize that it’s not the wiring acting up.

“Do not even dare to besmirch my wife’s honor by implying she would be unfaithful,” he does not have the full extra dark layer of his radio filter going, but his tone is still tense. “I do not know how we bypassed the biology put in place to prevent my kind from reproducing, but I can guarantee you that the child is my own flesh and blood, and I will not take any suggestion otherwise.”

“Right, right, of course, I’m so so so sorry to have offended you or implied she would…” The princess swallows hard, taking a step back. Somehow he is more frightening right now than he is when he takes on his demonic form. “But hear me out, you… might… have to sometimes… pretend you aren’t the baby’s father…” She feels her heartbeat pick up as the lights flicker more, “Only if there are other demons around, or if we have to take her anywhere. Because, like, she might need to see a doctor, if I can find one that will treat humans that is but like… I don’t like the idea either, please don’t be mad.” She closes her eyes and turns away as if Alastor is about to unleash some form of pure fury and rage upon her for suggesting that he do something so awful as deny his role in his child’s existence. A chill runs up her spine as she hears his footsteps approach, then walk past her, continuing down the hall. “Alastor?”

He doesn’t respond, only continues to walk. His mind is turning this new information over, attempting to soothe his anxieties, but also creating new ones in its place. She can stay, they can be together, be a family, without constantly having to keep her hidden away from their world. Is that what he wants? To be a family? And what would the cost be? Although the moment he and Grace shared earlier helped him to show her that he wants to be a father to his child, what will happen if he says that he must pretend he is not? Even if behind closed doors he forces himself to be the most loving and doting dad ever in order to make up for it, pretending to be of no relation to them in public would be damaging to the relationship. He fears that just telling her such an idea will undo all the progress that was made earlier.

Of course, all of this is contingent upon whether or not their baby makes it to term… all of this will be for nothing if the fetus is already dead in her womb. And now his mind is there again, and he does not hear Charlie rambling on about nonsense as she follows him down the hall.

Chapter 38

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Everything is so cold, why is hell so cold? The white and blue tile is freezing against Grace’s sweat slick skin. The vent above is blasting frigid air down on her frail body. That’s why. This hotel has AC. If she wasn’t so weak and ill lately then she would certainly appreciate the amenity. When she was a teenager there was a neighbor who was pregnant during one of the hottest summers in a decade. The young girl had occasionally been asked over to assist the woman with housework and while there she saw the poor lady was just absolutely miserable from the heat. Grace wants to consider herself lucky, she wants to think she would take too cold over too hot any day, but right now it just feels like a million tiny knives on her skin.

Her mouth is filled with the taste of bile. Her throat burns so badly that it feels as though the deep scar across it may rip open despite the original wound being fully healed. The thought of ice cream dances at the back of her mind. Vanilla ice cream always helped the bad taste in her mouth when she was sick, if she wasn’t so damn cold then she’d want to eat a big bowl of it. Alastor used to carry her back to bed after she’d thrown up, then bring her some because Brian always kept the freezer stocked with it. But they aren’t at home anymore, there is no sweet treat to wash away the vile flavor and soothe her aching throat.

Her stomach seems to have finally settled, but that might just be because there is nothing left in it. She had spent a few minutes dry heaving after her husband left, but it has now been a good while since she stopped. Puking always makes her feel gross. The residue from her room collapsing, the dried blood on her, and the fact that she’s on a stranger's bathroom floor certainly doesn’t help. The woman feels vile, disgusting, like a worm in a sewer.

Our heroine hardly has the energy to move. All the things weighing down on her body have finally come to a head and left her nearly paralyzed with weakness. She doesn’t even feel pain right now, instead the girl is just a lifeless shell laying in a fetal position on the floor. Grace tells herself that she’s been through worse, that the cancer, the chemo, the radiation made her feel far more horrible. Her entire body was on fire back then, every nerve in agony unless she was pumped full of morphine, and that still only ever dulled the pain. This time she is just exhausted, and yet sleep evades her because her mind is swirling with stress, worry, and fear unlike any she has ever experienced.

All of this is far too familiar. She knows that she is not near death the way she once experienced it. Grace knows she is far stronger than to die just from something this simple. Yet she finds a bitter irony in how similar her current situation is to how ill she was all those years ago. Except now the stakes are far higher. She may be strong, but how strong could she hope for her fetus to be?

Her husband is a demon, an immortal sinner. Certainly that counts for something right? She can only hope that its demonic genes will give it the strength to survive the hostile environment that her body has become, and endure the ordeal she went through today. But laying on the bathroom floor is doing her baby no favors, she needs to get out of here. She heard everybody talking through the door, there’s new medical supplies waiting for her in the other room. If she wants to give her baby a fighting chance then she just has to get up… and…

She can’t. Her arms shake as she puts weight on her hands trying to push herself up, but it’s not possible. And trying to put that injured shoulder to work causes it to erupt in a fiery explosion of pain, harshly reminding her that it is not a minor flesh wound. A silent sob escapes her as she collapses back onto the floor. Grace can hear voices on the other side of the door, but she can not call out to them for help, and nobody seems to be coming to check on her. Earlier the girl had been able to knock on the door to communicate with Alastor, but she had since moved away from it so she could lay by the toilet, and now she doesn’t have the ability to get back over there.

She opens her mouth, trying to call out, but all she can produce is a half gurgling noise that is not nearly loud enough for them to hear. No strength, no voice, and nobody seems to care, her mind is spiraling, how could Alastor leave her like this? Abandon her when she needs him most, leave with simpletons who don’t have enough brain cells to realize she’s going to need help.

A memory flashes across her mind. A few of them. Times where Alastor could not be there because of the constraints of the summoning sigil, and Brian had to be at work, so she was alone in the house, and often found herself trapped like this, laying on the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room floors for hours until one of them found her. And while this time should be different, there are people, just on the other side of the door, she can not call out, can not escape this hell.

With what little strength she has left Grace grabs hold of the slender pole of her IV stand, and moves it so that the top sweeps along the edge of the bathroom counter. Luckily for her she is successful on her first attempt, managing to knock several beauty products off so that they clatter to the floor.

Husk and Niffty halt their conversation at the sound of things falling in the bathroom. They had been discussing the use of the eggs in Niffty’s latest play, and if it was really necessary to draw faces on the back of their heads and make them act backwards. The eggs are currently contained within a pillow fort Niffty constructed to keep them from wandering off; she's been referring to it as ‘backstage.’ Normally the cat wouldn’t take any interest in the maid’s shenanigans, but he’s stressed and has no booze so he has to keep himself occupied somehow, otherwise his mind may go to dark places.

Dark places like ‘oh f*ck she’s dead that was the sound of her collapsing and hitting her head and dying oh f*ck I was suppose to be taking care of her oh f*ck f*ck f*ck Alastor is going to invent ten new kinds of torture just to f*ck me up if I f*cked this up again oh f*ck.’

Both of them rush over to the door, the tiny legs of the cyclops somehow allow her to move faster and she gets there first, “Gracie, are you okay?” She starts jumping, trying to reach for the door handle. This is why she travels through the vents, the doorknobs are all too high for her.

Husk puts his paw on the knob, “Grace…. f*ck… uhm we’re going to come in, is that okay?” There is a muffled sound that seems like that of skin slapping against tile, most likely her hitting the floor to signal to them. At least it means she’s alive. “Is that… is that a yes? We can come in?” He is more concerned about pissing Alastor off by walking in on his wife then he is about the girl’s condition unfortunately so he’s not really thinking this through.

“OPEN THE f*ckING DOOR HUSKER YOU STUPID FURBALL SHE NEEDS HELP!!” Niffty suddenly screeches at such a pitch that it causes the bartender’s tail to puff up.

He opens the door quickly, revealing Grace, silently sobbing on the floor, “sh*t…” Al is going to kill him. He’s dead. How does he keep f*cking this up?

Niffty immediately scurries across the room to where she is curled up, “Gracie, what’s wrong, are you hurt?” She of course knows that the woman is injured, but she’s unsure if this behavior is because of a fall or what.

The young woman stares up at the cyclops, her face soaked in tears, how does she even begin to explain what is wrong without her voice? Tell her that her mouth tastes vile. That she can hardly feel her legs, and what little sensation she even has in her body is the excruciating pain in her shoulder. She can’t tell these demons that she doesn't even have the energy to move into a sitting position, much less stand up.

Niffty kneels on the floor and takes Grace’s head into her lap because she doesn't know how else to help her, “there there…” she strokes her sweat soaked locks of brown hair.

Grace tries to mouth her needs, ‘can’t move,’ is what her lips say, ‘don’t want to be here,’ but it’s difficult to tell what she is trying to say. Husk stares at her for a while as she repeats these phrases over and over, trying to decipher them.

She gets visibly more frustrated as they fail to understand her. She just wants off this damn floor. Medicine would be great, some f*cking blood to replace what was lost from her injury, but off the f*cking floor is her primary concern.

Her eyes begin to flash violet as she tries to mouth again, ‘off the f*cking floor.’

Niffty is too focused on trying to soothe her to read her lips. And all Husk can pick up is ‘f*cking.’

‘Off the f*cking floor.’

The violet flashes are getting more intense, like something within her trying to fight its way out. The bartender shudders as he locks eyes with the woman, the switching between green and violet is unnerving.

‘Off the f*ckING FLOOR.’

Both demons cry out in pain and hold their hands to their ears as though it might block out the intense static that bursts across the room. It’s very akin to when Alastor communicates with his radio waves rather than his voice, but the signal is more scrambled, and it burns. But the message comes across, in a way. Words seared into their brains.

“Off the f*cking floor, right, f*ck off the floor of course that’s what you want…” Husk stumbles a bit, it feels like his brain is filled with water. He shakes his head, his ears flopping about, until his senses come back to him.

Niffty whimpers and holds her head. Things are too clear. For a brief moment a pathway in her mind has opened up. Memories, thoughts, feelings, fears, fears, fears. So scared, she’s so scared. She never wanted to be this way.

Somewhere in the hotel Alastor feels a chill run up his spine as something similar to his radio waves blasts through him. He makes more sense of it than the others, ‘off the f*cking floor,’ he did forget something, he forgot to tell them she couldn’t communicate. That’s what was bothering him.

Back in the bathroom Grace is shivering on the floor, her mouth hanging open as she coughs out silent sobs. Why did Alastor leave her alone again? She needs him, he’s the only one who understands her.

Suddenly everything is warm, and soft. Her cheek is resting against a soft furry chest and she is finally off the cold filthy floor. For the first time in what feels like hours her body relaxes.

“I know you don’t want anyone but Al carrying you this way, but it’s easier, okay?” Husk says, sort of cradling her, being extra cautious not to rip out her IV.

Niffty, despite her little moment, manages to get up and push the IV stand along as the other demon carries Grace into the bedroom. He walks slowly not only so that she can keep up, but also so as not to jostle the human any more than necessary.

Eventually he is able to sit the human on the edge of Charlie’s bed, but she doesn’t have the energy to sit up straight so he carefully rests her on the pillows. She sniffles, and tries to mouth a thank you, but is too overwhelmed to even manage that.

Once the maid has moved the IV by the bedside, she hurries over to the outlet and checks on Grace’s phone. It’s only halfway charged, but it will have to do, they need to be able to communicate with her.

While she is doing that, Husker goes over to the medical cooler and begins to grab the things he was instructed to give to her. He is incredibly gentle when picking up the blood, not wanting to puncture the bag with his claws. When he turns around to face the bed again he sees that the human is still crying softly.

“sh*t… what’s wrong now? Are you still in pain? I don’t think there’s any pain killers in here but…” he stops when she shakes her head.

She is in pain, but that’s not why she’s crying. It’s not even the fear for her baby that is making the tears fall right now. Being on the clean bed is making her realize how utterly disgusting she is. Sweat soaked, covered in grime and dried blood. It was a problem earlier, but now that she’s in a clean environment it just feels so much worse.

Grace sniffles as Niffty hands her the phone, it’s already turned on, with the notes app open. She takes it, her hands weak, shaking, but she manages to type out a single word.

-dirty-

“Oh Gracie…” the cyclops seems to have already recovered and forgotten about the little episode she was starting to have. “Do you need a bath?”

The girls solemnly nods in response.

Husk brings the bottle of anti-nausea pills and the blood bags over, “sorry but… I think that’s going to have to wait until Al gets back. You clearly can’t take one on your own, Niffty’s too small to help with how weak you seem and well… I don’t want to know what he’d do to me if he found out I…”

Grace sighs, she understands, but it doesn’t make things better. She wants to be clean, it feels like nothing else about her current state is fixable, so if she could just alleviate the one stressor then maybe things will be a little better.

Niffty hops up on the bed so she can reach where the bags hang from the IV stand, “I can clean you here…” She takes the blood bag from the other demon and expertly hooks it up, attaching it to the existing line and closing the valve to the saline, so that it can be switched back to if needed after the blood is done. “Huskie, take the egg babies out into the hallway, I’ll get her all clean while this red good does its magic.”

This is the moment that Grace becomes aware that there are more beings in the room with them. She lays eyes on the living eggs, who are all staring at her with wonder, worry, and excitement. A small smile graces her lips. Perhaps it’s a touch of delirium after everything she’s been through, but she thinks they are utterly adorable. Just like little children. She wants to hold them and swaddle them and read them bedtime stories and… yeah she’s getting a little delirious, but at least she’s going to be clean, she’s going to be clean and for just a moment she gets to forget about the fear of what may have happened to the child in her womb.

Chapter 39

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Before Niffty ushers Husk out of the room, he first has to help her fill a washbasin with hot water and carry it out to the bedroom. The eggs, in their desperate attempt to be of some assistance, grab every single washcloth, soap, shampoo, and… toothbrush… they can find in the bathroom and bring it out for their new friends to use.

The whole time Grace lays on her side, watching them silently. She wants to appreciate their assistance, but she just feels bitterness over the fact that she’s in a situation where this is necessary. One of her hands rests on her belly, as she prays for some kind of sign that her baby is okay.

But no sign comes.

As Husk sets the water basin on the bedside table he notices the girl’s body language. He knows he should say something to comfort her, but has no idea where to begin. He doesn’t know her, doesn’t know her history. All the bartender knows is that this is the wife of one of the most sad*stic demons he’s ever known, so he can’t even begin to imagine what kind of person she is. It’s unclear what words would offer comfort, and what would make her feel worse. And honestly he doesn’t know if he actually cares, or if it’s just his self preservation still trying to get on her good side.

Before he can decide on anything to say, Niffty gets her feather duster out and uses it to usher him and the eggs out, “shoo, shoo, no boys allowed, no boys allowed!!”

The next thing Husk knows, he is out in the hall, surrounded by several confused little egg boys. The bartender looks down at them, realizing that he’s going to have to keep track of the damn things, while also not leaving this spot. Because if Alastor comes back and he’s not ‘protecting’ Grace then he’s going to end up getting in a sh*t load of trouble.

Of course one of the damn chicken fetus things immediately tries to wander off, so he quickly says, “listen, if you all stay put, behave, and don’t make me f*cking chase you everywhere, then I’ll give you all some candy later.”

“Ooooo, we can do that boss!” Frank says, clapping his tiny hands excitedly.

“Yeah we can stay right here!”

“Best behavior from us, don’t you worry!”

“Get back here you’re going to cost us the candy!!” One says, running over to the wanderer and dragging him back to the group.

“So, Alastor has you babysitting the eggs now?” Vaggie’s voice comes from down the hall as she approaches, “I told him to take care of them today, seems he couldn’t even do that right.”

“Clearly he’s got more important sh*t to do than deal with your annoyance over these things,” Husk folds his arms and leans back against the door, essentially body blocking it. “Anyways I’m not babysitting them, I’m protecting the girl. But Niffty wants us waiting out here for the moment so they can have some lady privacy, I really don’t want to argue with her about it, so I guess I’m the f*cking bouncer now.”

The silver haired girl opens her mouth to speak, but pauses, noticing that one of the eggs is wearing a lock of her hair. It is glued to the top of his hat, and follows him around like a long, thin ribbon. It’s clearly Niffty’s doing, as it’s the chunk that she ripped out of Vaggie’s scalp during the fight earlier. What’s most unnerving about it is that the piece of scalp is still attached, making it look more like a war souvenir than a costume. The woman raises her hand to the back of her head, where it still hurts from the hair being ripped out.

She decides not to mention it, in fact she doesn’t want to think about it anymore, so instead Vaggie says what she was about to before getting distracted, “Well, I have to go in and grab some of my things, so you’re going to have to move…”

Husk notices the way she reacts to the sight of Niffty’s hard work, and he smirks a bit. He recalls briefly the way the little maid sailed through the air as he threw her. She had put up for more of a fight than he was expecting.

Before he can tell her to f*ck off though, Frank pipes up, “Miss. Cyclops said no boys allowed!!” He and the other eggs line up in front of the cat demon to form a defensive front.

Her single eye widens, “the f*ck is that suppose to mean?!”

It means nothing really, the eggs probably don’t have a concept of gender. All they know is Niffty didn’t want people coming in so they’ll do what they’ve been told.

The bartender snickers, “I don’t know how their f*cking brains work, but I can’t let you in. Nif is giving the human a sponge bath or something, and it’s probably best you stay away from her anyways.”

“I’ll be in and out,” she puts her hands on her hips. I just need to grab my clothes and a few things from the bathroom.”

“She is stressed enough as it is, I think the last thing she needs is for you to be anywhere near her,” he spreads his wings a bit to make himself look bigger and more properly block the door.

She groans in frustration, “you can’t stop me from going in my own room Husk.”

He bends down a bit so that he is eye level with her, “after you tried to f*cking kill her? I sure as f*ck can.”

A few of the eggs are standing with their arms crossed, holding the defensive line. But Frank and the one with the silver hair attachment keep pivoting back and forth so they can face whoever is talking, absorbing all the information that is being exposited.

Vaggie huffs, “I didn’t try to kill her!”

“Bullsh*t,” Husk half growls as he says this. “Pentious may have injured her but it was an accident. Angel put a gun to her head, sure, but he was only threatening her. But you… if I hadn’t gotten between you and Grace then you would have run her through with that damn spear of yours. Through the f*cking back, mind you, given that she was running away.”

“What are we on a first name basis with the damn human stowaway now?” Vaggie sighs dramatically, “I thought she was a threat, that she was going to hurt us. She had just dropped that f*cking flashbang on us I had no idea what other powers she might have turned to use on us.”

This causes the cat demon to let off a throaty laugh, “damn, that’s pretty ACAB of you.” He fully leans back against the door, smirking at her, “I mean I would have thought she’d be safe since she’s white but… I guess since the girl doesn’t look like the rest of us then that makes her a ‘threat’, right?”

He also knows something most of the others don’t, or at least he thinks he does. It’s a hunch mostly, a little rumor spread around by the overlords. And the more time he’s spent with her the more he’s come to realize there’s more truth to it than he first thought. The princess of hell is dating somebody with an ‘X’ over their eye, who wields an angelic spear, and now after seeing how she behaved today well… exterminators really aren’t too different from trigger happy cops now are they? Even if he’s right, the gambler isn’t going to reveal it. That’s a trump card he’s going to hold in his back pocket until he needs it most.

She pauses for a moment, “I… don’t think that’s how you use that term, it’s an acronym not a…” She shakes her head, that’s not what’s important right now. “Anyways, that sh*t doesn’t apply to me, I’m f*cking hispanic.”

“No, that’s the point of the ‘A’ in it,” Husk replies, “ALL cops are bastards, not some, all.”

“Okay well, I’m not even a f*cking cop,” she has her hands curled up into fists. Her blood is boiling as her frustration turns into seething rage.

“Really,” he laughs again, “could have fooled me with that ‘trying to kill a fleeing suspect,’ bullsh*t.”

Vaggie opens her mouth to try and snap back at him again, but her heart sinks as she realizes that… he’s right. That’s exactly what she did. Where did that attitude even come from? The exterminator mentality really must be so far ingrained in her that ‘Kill first ask questions never,’ is her defualt setting. Even after she got her wings ripped off for sparing a demon who seemed to be a child. Even after she decided she wanted to try and be better. Even with all that, she’s still an exterminator at her core.

She’s already been beating herself up for today’s incident after Charlie gave her a talking to about her aggression, but now she’s really having to confront the fact that she tried to kill somebody who was just… running away. It’s not a pleasent confrontation, her fists are shaking as she remembers the feeling of her spear in her hands. She remembers the terror on the human’s face during every moment of that horrible fight, and most importantly she remembers the way the woman’s back looked as she aimed her weapon at it.

The angel huffs and folds her arms, “how do you even know that term? Didn’t you die in the… times before humans started spreading that on the internet?”

“I’m a f*cking bartender, you have any idea how many souls I’ve served before I came to this hotel, from every era? Including the recently deceased?” He rolls his eyes, “I get all kinds sinners bitching to me about it all the time, and it is f*cking amazing what a pig shaped demon will confess to you when he doesn’t realize you were a black man when you were alive.”

“Jesus f*cking Christ Husk, just let me through so I can grab my sh*t then I’ll be out of your fur,” Vaggie is getting progressively more uncomfortable with the conversation as she is forced to think about her sh*tty behavior, “I’m not going to just stand here and let you…”

The door opens halfway suddenly, causing Husk to lose his balance and nearly fall on his ass. If it wasn’t for his tail helping him keep his balance then he might have ended up on the floor.

“Will you two knock it off!!” Niffty says as she sticks her head out into the hall. “I am trying to help Gracie relax and she can’t do that if you two are yelling and making a big ruckus!”

Vaggie glances at the furious little cyclops. She is admittedly more scared of her right now than she is of Husk, so she takes a step back.

The cat’s shoulders relax a bit as he sees that step, knowing that the maid is a good ally to have when it comes to confronting Vaggie, “Sorry Nif, I’ll keep it down.”

“I just need to…” Vaggie starts.

“NO,” Niffty points down the hall, “you need to LEAVE. She doesn’t want to SEE YOU, she doesn’t want to HEAR YOU, you are stressing her out which means you are stressing the BABY OUT, so you need to GO.” Her surprisingly intense tone is far more effective than anything the larger demon had said while trying to drive the woman away.

Even the eggs are a bit scared. One of them is quivering. But Frank and the others always, who always defer to whoever they think is their boss, start waving their arms around and yelling.

“Yeah! You need to leave!”

“Go away!

“Stop stressing out the baby!!” Is the statement one makes despite having no idea what a baby is.

This somewhat amuses Husk, but he can see how it’s affecting Vaggie. Her face falls, she looks almost dejected. He knows that somewhere inside her she knows that what she did was wrong. He figures she wants to be better than this, to overcome her violent nature. But he is also aware of how hard it is for a person to admit they were wrong and change their behaviors. If he wasn’t so focused on not f*cking up the task Al has given him, he might feel a bit more empathetic towards her. But after the sh*t she’s pulled today it’s a little refreshing to see her put in her place.

“Go get your girlfriend to come get your sh*t, cause you ain’t setting foot in here until Al or Grace gives you permission,” he says. As he uses his foot to stop the eggs from wandering into the room through the partially open door, he also does his best to ensure he does not even accidently slightly glance back and see something he shouldn’t.

“Fine, whatever I’ll go find Charlie,” she grumbles, turning and beginning to walk away.

“Be careful, she’s with Al right now,” Husk responds, genuinely trying to give her a heads up. “They went down to his and Grace’s room to do emergency repairs so you should be able to find him there.”

“Thanks…” she mumbles. As the fallen angel turns a corner, getting herself out of sight of the others, her head droops. Her folded arms move more so they are wrapped around to hold herself.

The truth is she doesn’t want to have to ask Charlie to get her things for her, because she doesn’t want to talk to her girlfriend at the moment. After the conversation earlier she realized how badly she disappointed her partner with her behavior. Husk calling it out wasn’t the first time that she has been forced to think about it today. She knows she f*cked up. She knows she took things way too far.

But if she knows, then why can’t she stop acting this way? They’re all right, she was going to kill that girl. There had been no thought in her head other than to ‘eliminate the threat.’ It’s like old exterminator brainwashing that she just can’t seem to shake her head clear of, kill, kill, kill.

As Vaggie walks her heels drag. She tries to remember, wasn’t she human once? Exterminators didn’t come from nothing, but they aren’t naturally born angels, she knows that for sure. The one thing she remembers is the way the seraphim and archangels treated her and her sisters like lessers because they weren’t heavenborn… but also weren’t ‘winners.’ But she has no memory of having ever been human, it’s something that haunts her. What is she? A born killing machine, or a human that got reset and remolded into one?

The former exterminator wants to be better, wants to redeem herself for all the awful things she did. That’s why she so enthusiastically assists Charlie with this project. Because if she can get redemption for demons then… maybe she will finally be able to make up for what she’s done. But her instinct is to protect, and that protectiveness comes with a large side helping of ‘kill or be killed.’ How is she supposed to overcome instinct? To break through the programming that’s been instilled in her brain for centuries, to stop herself from being what she was made to be.

Vaggie is halfway down the stairs when she stops cold, her chest tight. She sits, no collapses, on the steps, and puts her face into her knees. The woman she loves is the most beautiful, pure of heart person she’s ever met. She doesn’t deserve her, the girl fears all she will do is bring darkness and taint that white light of hope. Tears roll down her cheeks as she thinks about how much she loves Charlie, how every aspect of her being makes her want to see the princess smile. And she thinks about how she may never smile at her again if she ever learns about all the awful things she’s done, and all the terrible things she is still capable of doing.

There is suddenly a spark of understanding in her mind. A half formed particle of empathy. Her actions were born of a desire to protect Charlie and the people Charlie cares about, because she loves her. Alastor’s demonic form, the way he almost shredded all of them without hesitation, the fact that he is still threatening to kill of all of them if something happens to his child, she begins to realize that it’s because of love. If he loves that human, loves that child inside her, then of course he would want to protect them. How can she judge him for his actions, when they were done so for the same reason that she committed her sins today?

Part of her still rails against it, after all Alastor couldn’t really be capable of love like that, right? It’s almost insulting to imply that somebody as vile as him can be feeling and making choices based on the same emotion that she is. To her, love is the pure thing, full of hope and life, a bright light in the darkness. It’s not fair that he can try to excuse his actions by saying it is because of love, not after all the horrible things he’s done before that.

Vaggie takes a deep breath and stands. Whether the radio demon loves that human or not, it does not excuse what she almost did to the girl. Her mind is not yet ready to accept that Alastor is capable of good intentions, but she can damn well do her best to atone for her own bad actions. She thinks this, over and over, and she descends the stairs in search of the princess and the deer.

Chapter 40

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Upon entering Alastor’s room, Charlie is immediately hit with the smell of rancid, rotting deer. As she stumbles back into the hallway, gagging, she wonders how she didn’t notice it before? The answer, most likely, is that she had a lot of debris up in her nose from watching the ceiling collapse, and everything was so chaotic at the time that it was just overlooked as they ran past it into the secret tunnel.

Alastor watches with an almost amused smirk as the princess doubles over and retches, “what’s the matter Charlie, don’t you like venison?” Even he has to admit that over the course of the day the carcass has gotten more foul than he expected it to. Perhaps he needs to adjust the ambient temperature of his swamp area; it may be too warm in there. Even he has his limits with decay, when it’s too far gone the texture becomes too gooey and ferment turns bitter.

He briefly recalls his thoughts from this morning. The images in his mind of a child at the table eating with him. Their tiny fist struggles to properly hold the fork as he cuts pieces of meat off for them. A bright smile that has Grace’s softness and his sharp teeth, as they enjoy a lovely meal together. The overlord is not quite as put off by the idea anymore, though he still shudders thinking about the sticky little fingers making a mess all over the place.

“No…” she hacks and coughs, “no it’s not… it’s fine… oh god…f*ck…” The girl ultimately has to retreat a little ways down the hall to catch her breath.

The radio demon snaps his fingers, and the deer carcass disappears in a swirl of green smoke, along with the cloud of flies that was swarming it. He steps into the room and waves his hand causing a window hidden behind the swampy foliage to open.

“The air should clear in a moment, I will go on ahead to the other room,” he says, moving over to the open secret passageway. Most of the books from the shelf are laying on the floor, having taken a tumble when the entrance was forced open. He almost frowns at the sight of them, but maintains his smile, merely furrowing his brow. Several of the tomes are now laying open, some with the pages being bent from the positions they are in, and one even has an ashy footprint smudging its words. None of these damn demons have respect for literature. Alastor takes a deep breath, then snaps his fingers again, several of his shadowy little imps appear and begin to clean up the mess, taking extra care not to further damage the books. He hopes that Grace’s survived the fray, Husker had not yet brought them up so he does somewhat worry they may have been lost to this fire he’s been hearing about.

Speaking of the fire, the tunnel is very hot, not quite burning, but definitely a good ten to fifteen degrees warmer than usual. That would explain why his room was warmer and the deer rotted faster. When the fire raised the temperature of Grace’s room, the heat’s main exit point was this tunnel. He knows there is supposedly a hole in the floor, but hot air rises, or so he’s heard, so the heat wouldn’t have dispersed downwards. It makes the demon realize that although he thought he had attended to every detail when building Grace’s room, he did not take proper ventilation into account. He had only installed the singular air vent and attached it to the hotel’s ancient ventilation system; all it does really is pump the AC into her room, and does little to pull air out. If this had not happened, then they likely would have encountered issues further down the line. He’s not used to the idea of needing to breathe clean air, so circulation had just not occurred to him up to that point.

These thoughts are of course just a way to distract himself, to not think about all the other things that have been plaguing his mind. He is no architect, nor an engineer, but it sometimes soothes him to think about the process of construction. Though his shadow imps do the actual work, they are implementing his designs, his thoughts on how things should be. This time he shall do better, make it more fortified to protect his dear wife, and more homely to soothe her nerves. If they stay, that is. If they stay then maybe he will expand her space into the other secret tunnels built by the former owners. Maybe even build a nursery, if Charlie will permit, and she almost certainly will. But only if they stay, and that will only be if things end in a way that makes that nursery a necessity.

Alastor stops dead in his tracks when he finally lays eyes on the room. It’s so much worse than he could have ever imagined. Although the main lights are out, the room is illuminated from below by the massive, gaping hole to the hallway below. There is still dust and smoke in the air, so thick that it’s almost unbreathable even for him. Then his chest tightens as a scent penetrates the ashy fog, blood, Grace’s blood. Though his sense of smell may not be as super human as other demons such as Husk, it is still very finely tuned when it comes to blood. And after the years of illness and chemo and radiation, his darling wife has a very unique bouquet. Though the overlord already knows she was injured and has treated the wound, he finds that the overpowering smell of it here mixed with the utter destruction he’s laying eyes on is bringing him back to a state of near panic.

Grace is okay, she is just a few floors up. His dearest is alive, and semi-safe. Yet this assault on his senses has triggered every protective instinct all over again. How could he let this happen? He should have been here to stop this.

With a flourish of his cane the room’s light bulbs flicker on. Well most of them do, a few are busted, their glass scattered across the floor, it’s a miracle that Grace didn’t step on any given that she was barefoot when all of this went down. One wall sconce is completely busted, even the metal is warped and twisted. Now that the room is better lit he can see why, there are scorch marks all up the wall. It seems the western half of the room took the brunt of the fire damage.

The illumination also allows the overlord to see exactly why Charlie was so concerned about the structural integrity of the room. There are two main areas of concern. The first being the giant hole in the floor, obviously, but more specifically the western edge of it. All of the material that composes it is scorched to the point that it is slowly crumbling, in fact as Alastor watches, a large chunk breaks away and falls into the hallway below. Additionally the ceiling above has also sustained significant damage. The support beam that crosses the room is creaking ominously, and is missing several chunks that seem to have been blown off by some shots from the ray gun that managed to pass all the way through. If he doesn’t get that reinforced soon then the whole section above will likely collapse into this room, and with the practically non-existent floor… well it would likely set off a chair reaction that could bring down this whole half of the hotel.

Alastor’s eye twitches as he surveys the damage. He knew it was going to be bad, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad. The bed is just a pile of charred logs and ash. The carpet and wallpaper is just… f*cked. This is going to take hours of work just to get it to a point where it won’t fall apart. And probably days to make it livable again, weeks maybe. Even if he puts all of his shadow imp power on contracting work this is going to take ages. This isn’t even something he can set them to work on and walk away, this is his wife’s bedroom, he has to oversee every detail to make sure that it’s absolutely perfect, safe, and comfortable.

But that is going to take time Alastor doesn’t have, time he should be spending with her. Even these few minutes away from her are agony, how could he spend that much time working on this when she needs him by her side. They might be better off just fixing up the emergency issues and finding her a new spot in the hotel… but this is the only place he can put her close to the center of the building, protecting her from potential exterior attacks.

He takes a deep breath as he hears footsteps behind him in the tunnel. His composure must be maintained, even if he can not keep up his usual ‘silly radio demon’ persona, he can not allow any of this stress to show through to anybody.

As Charlie steps into the light her eyes widen, she had forgotten how bad of a state the room had been in, “oh wow… this is going to take a lot of work…”

“I know…” Alastor taps his cane on the floor, hard, and about a dozen of his shadowy little workers appear with construction tools and materials. Several of them are on the floor below, and immediately set to work building a scaffolding to stabilize the crumbling ceiling, all down the hall and into adjacent rooms just to be on the safe side. “So the fire damage was caused by… this?” He slowly approaches the pile of metal on the floor, there is a vague shape of a barrel, but aside from that it is no longer recognizable as a tommy gun. He doesn’t get too close though, he has no intention of falling through the floor today.

“Yeah… I’ve been meaning to ask,” Charlie twists her hands together, “how… did she do that?”

“You were there, you tell me,” he has his suspicions, but the exact nature of his wife’s powers still elude him.

“Well she kinda like grabbed it,” she makes a motion with her hand, replicating the way that she saw it happen, “and then there was this really really really bright light and then Angel had to drop it because it was too hot.”

Alastor is honestly surprised the spider still has a hand if he was holding a molten piece of metal for even a fraction of a second, “her abilities are mostly light based. Heat and light are quite intermingled, if you touch a lightbulb that’s been on for too long then you might get burned.” It’s more than that though, he knows. Her powers aren’t just light, he’s suspected that for a while, they are based in whatever is producing the illumination. But with her deal constraining her access to her true abilities, she can not fully access the source.

Though seeing what Grace did does help him gain understanding about something he was confused about earlier. Although her powers mostly create little light shows, she does have small amounts of other abilities. In addition to being able to cast communication and summoning spells, she has a small amount of self healing magic. He hesitates to call it healing, more like regeneration or repair, and small is an overstatement. Illnesses like her cancer are immune to this self repair process, and she was never quite able to get the scar on her throat to go away, or bring her voice back for that matter. It’s always been his hope that if they break the bonds of her deal then she will be able to bring herself back to full health, that he will hear her voice again, but every day that dream grows more distant.

Regardless, a flash of violet energy has always been enough to patch herself up when knicks herself chopping vegetables or falls and scrapes her knees. He had been perplexed as to why she was still bleeding when he got to her today. Once she had a moment to concentrate she should have been able to at least close it up, but hadn’t. Alastor had been frustrated by this, as they wouldn’t have had to worry about getting blood for her if she had repaired the surface of the wound. But seeing the damage she did now makes him realize that she couldn’t, she must have spent all the power she’s stored up since they got here to launch that counterattack. And if she spent it all, then it’s going to be days, weeks before she has returned enough to help punish these ingrates if their baby…

“Do you think you’ll be able to rebuild it?” The princess carefully crosses the ruined room to the scorched side so she can inspect the damage to the wall. Her voice snaps the overlord out of his thought process.

He feels as though he should warn her that it’s dangerous to go over there, he can tell that it’s unstable, but a crash through the floor will only hurt her ego and give him a bit of amusem*nt so instead he replies, “I will likely have to gut the whole thing to be on the safe side. I believe a pipe was grazed above us, I can hear it leaking into the space between the ceiling and the floor above as we speak. Between that and the smoke damage I don’t want to risk any kind of mold growing or something deteriorating and giving way while my wife and child reside here…” He watches the way she steps, listens to the soft creaking of the weakened floor as she puts her weight on it. “Luckily nobody resides directly above or below us currently, and the only other resident of this floor is Niffty’s quarters on the other side of the building, so tearing open into the other rooms in order to rebuild shouldn’t get in anybody’s way.” He says luckily, but personally he wishes he could inconvenience as many of them as possible, after all it was their stupidity that caused this. If he had to kick some of them out of their room so he could tear down and replace walls that would certainly make him feel a little bit better.

Charlie looks up at the ceiling, squinting, “You can hear a pipe leaking? Your hearing is that good?”

“When I was dragged down to this infernal pit I was given the form of a deer in an effort to make me seem weak and feeble,” Alastor’s fake smile turns into a bit of a genuine smirk, “I of course overcame that obstacle. But a deer is meant to be a prey animal, so they evolved especially good hearing in order to detect if a predator is sneaking up on them.” One of his fuzzy ears twitches as if to remind her that they are there, “Although this form was meant to be a detriment, I still gained their excellent hearing.” He of course also has his senses bolstered by his powers, anywhere his shadows can reach he can have awareness, but he doesn’t intend to disclose that part.

Alastor actually isn’t sure how to address the leak without shutting off water for the whole hotel. The overlord begins to focus his mind, sending his shadowy tentacles into the internal structure of the building to see if there are any valves that can shut down just this portion of plumbing.

But despite how focused he is on this task, it does not prevent him from doing exactly what he said his ears can do. He spins around to face the tunnels as footsteps begin to approach down the tunnel. The overlord recognizes the gait long before Vaggie steps into the light to reveal herself, and has already prepared himself for whatever bullsh*t she is about to bring.

Chapter 41

Chapter by PotatoJade (JadeElite)

Chapter Text

Alastor straightens his bowtie as his current least favorite person in the hotel steps into the room, “hello again Vaggie, is there something we can assist you with?” He says this with as much fake enthusiasm as he can muster, knowing that Charlie is going to want them to ‘get along.’

Vaggie immediately clocks the fakeness of his demeanor. Her face screws up and she looks like she’s about to say something nasty but stops herself when her girlfriend gives her a ‘remember what we talked about’ type look. She takes a deep breath and a moment to reflect on what she had been thinking about earlier; she was wrong to attack the girl, she needs to atone for her action, and atonement doesn’t begin with being aggressive. There is a glint in the corner of her eye, her angelic spear leaning against the wall where Charlie made her leave it. It’s almost like it’s taunting her, reminding her of what she almost did. She wonders what kind of guilt she would have felt if she had actually managed to take the human’s life, how awful would she have felt if she found out about the unborn baby after the fact.

The radio demon tenses as he sees her look at the spear, immediately assuming the worst, “I wouldn’t try anything funny, remember, I’m a lot faster than you.”

“Jesus… f*ck no I wasn’t going to…” The angel takes a step back, raising her hands in an ‘i mean no harm’ kind of manner. “Listen, I just need some of my stuff from my room since the hum…” she sees Alastor drum his fingers along his cane as she speaks, “...since Grace is occupying it for the time being, I wanted to get our stuff moved into one of the guest rooms.”

“Oh yeah go on up Vaggie,” Charlie says with a chipper tone, “can you get some of my clothes and shower supplies too? I’m going to be busy here for a little while.” She takes a step over to the twisted wall sconce to examine it, fascinated by how the fire got hot enough to start melting it.

Alastor’s right ear twitches, “Unfortunately I am going to have to say no to that. I can not allow you to…” He takes a deep breath, and decides to try and be more hospitable with his phrasing, “I do not feel comfortable letting you be around my wife when I am not there to protect her.”

“Yeah yeah your furball already blocked me from going in on my own and made it pretty clear that I’m not welcome in there,” Vaggie replies, avoiding meeting either of their eyes. “So you’ll have to get our stuff Charlie."

“That’s kind of rude, it is our room that we’re letting you guys use after all.” The princess replies, crossing the creaking floor to examine the pile of burnt wood and ash that used to be the bed.

Vaggie sighs, “apparently, according to Niffty, she was pretty stressed out at even the idea of me being there. Not that I can really blame her.”

“I do not trust you around her in the slightest,” Alastor gestures to the melted gun on the floor, “given that your initial attack scared her so badly that she felt the need to defend herself, I cannot risk you trying to bring her harm when I am not there to defend her.” His mind is only an eighth dedicated to the conversation at hand, the rest of his focus is on his shadowy apparitions as they do their work. The tentacles have found a valve that shuts off the water to this floor so that the pipe stops leaking, and a few of the imps are now setting up a small scaffolding in the room to support the sagging ceiling support beam.

The angel rolls her eyes, “I’m not going to hurt her Alastor, she’s just some poor human who got sucked into your manipulative bullsh*t.” So much for playing nice.

Alastor’s shoulders stiffen, and at first he does not respond to the accusation of manipulation. He allows himself to focus on remaining calm while mentally dictating where his workers should go as they begin to rummage around the room for the remainder of Grace’s belongings.

“Vaggie… maybe we shouldn’t accuse him of things like that,” Charlie says softly, with a weak smile, “I think he cares about her very much and implying that he is just trying to manipulate her is kind of… mean.”

“I’m mean? He’s the radio demon, a deal maker who rips out people’s voices and broadcasts their screams,” Vaggie says defiantly, her hands on her hips. She wanted to behave, but it’s so hard when she has to see that smug f*cker’s fake smile stretched across his stupid face. “I’m just over here worried for that human’s safety, we still don’t know anything about how they met or how she lost her voice or how he got her pregnant or…”

Charlie stands up straight, “they met because she was able to use her powers to call into his radio show and he liked talking to her. That was nine years ago, and they’ve been married for about four.” She glances at Alastor, suddenly realizing that it may have not been her place to share that information that he gave her. “You’re acting like he’s being secretive and hiding everything, but it’s not like he could just give us the whole story of their relationship while he was trying to take care of her after WE injured her. I asked him questions and he was perfectly happy to answer.”

Perfectly happy was a bit of a stretch. He’d rather keep all the details of his private life to himself. The overlord only shared that information because he wanted to foster a sense of trust with the princess. Though it seems like it has become to his benefit that he did so, as she now seems rather securely on his side.

“Not being secretive and hiding things?” Her girlfriend gestures around the room, “We are standing in the secret room that he’s been hiding her in for weeks, how is that not…” She stops taking a deep breath and trying to clear her head. Behave. She needs to behave. She needs to stop being so aggressive.

The radio demon twirls his cane a bit, “You can think what you want of me. But actions speak louder than words. Yes, I hid Gracie in here, but it was for her own protection. You, on the other hand, claim that you won’t hurt her, yet you had no problem attacking her on your first meeting.” He glances at her spear again, his smile curling into a bit of a sneer, “I have no intention of trusting you around her when your actions have proven that you are dangerous.”