Chapter 16

Emotions Suck

Alastor had disappeared for a few days, and both Charlie and Vaggie shared a sigh of relief. He had started to become a tad bit annoying towards Lakavi, and they saw that even Eliza seemed somewhat avoidant of him, which was odd. Still, they kept themselves too busy to really look into it, and so it was time to start moving forward with some ideas.

"Alright, everyone," Charlie called. Everyone other than Alastor and Eliza were currently in the lobby, and they all turned to acknowledge the princess. "We have an announcement to make. As of today, we're requiring staff and guests to take part in scheduled rehabilitation programs."

"What the fuck?" Husk grumbled, pulling away from his bottle of booze. "Why the fuck does the staff have to take part? We've got work to do, dammit!"

"You usually sit there drinking and nothing else," Vaggie countered, folding her arms. "There aren't a lot of guests, so it's not like the front desk or the bar is very busy."

Niffty piped up, "But I have all the rooms to clean!"

Vaggie leveled a serious look with the cyclops. "You can take an hour out of your day. Besides, there aren't a lot of programs yet. We need to get used to having group sessions, and we thought it'd be best to get some practice sessions in now before we get a larger group of actual guests."

"And this way," Charlie added, "if anyone has any ideas during the sessions, they can share them and we can get things rolling!"

"Alright, toots, I'm listening," Angel said. "What kinda programs we talkin' here?"

"We want to schedule weekly group activities," Vaggie continued. "Group therapy is one. We'll pick a topic of discussion, and spend an hour with the guests sharing thoughts and opinions." She glanced at Charlie, who was nodding excitedly. "We're thinking Tuesdays."

"And then we can have a movie night!" Charlie suggested excitedly. "We'll pick out movies that follow the redemption theme!"

Vaggie stepped up to add "Or, at the very least, have a moral lesson worth discussing as a group. That would be Fridays."

Now Charlie was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Whatever she was about to say, it apparently was what she had been looking forward to the most. "And, since Dad sent us that awesome karaoke pad, I was thinking we could have Karaoke night!" Vaggie cleared her throat, and Charlie added sheepishly "Or an open mic night for stories and testimonies. Oh, and jokes!"

Vaggie face-palmed, but Angel nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Singin' and dancin's a great way to vent an' shit. Are there rules, or..?"

"No stripping," Vaggie interjected. "Or poles."

"Hey!" Angel snapped. "Pole dancin's legit, dammit! It's sexy as fuck, but there's nothin' wrong with it!"

Charlie put up her hands soothingly. "We can discuss that later." She looked between her lover and Angel, who were glaring at each other. "But for now, it's on the table as a possibility, OK?"

Vaggie looked like she wanted to argue, but Angel just huffed. "Fine, whateva."

"Cool beans," Charlie sighed with a thumbs up. "But we're agreed on the no stripping part, right?"

"Yea, yea," Angel agreed in a half-assed sarcastic tone. "I agree with that. Stripping is too sexual for you prudes."

Charlie smiled sweetly, causing Angel to soften a bit inside, though he tried his best not to show it. "Thank you, Angel."

He looked away and sighed. "No problem, Bubbles."

"Alright," Vaggie said, her own expression softening. "So we can have both karaoke night and open mic night, or it can be the same event. Thoughts?"

"Same event!" Niffty called out.

"Ditto," Husk grunted. "I'm not dealing with two nights of that shit."

"OK!" Charlie agreed. "Then we'll have open mic karaoke night on Saturdays! Sound good?" Everyone gave some form of verbal consent, which made Hell's princess very happy.

Suddenly, Angel looked at the clock and sighed. "Got an eval to get to." He got up and started walking towards the therapy room.

"Good luck, Angel!" Charlie called, grinning from ear to ear. Angel smiled back with a tiny wave. He really was learning to care a lot for the princess. She was one of the few people who had faith in him.

"Have a seat, Angel," Eliza greeted with her usual polite demeanor. He obeyed, though he didn't stretch out across the couch as he usually would. "I'm happy to inform you that today is the first day Vaggie will not be sitting in on your appointment. My probationary period is over!"

"Congrats!" Angel cheered. "Nice to not have Bitch-Face in the other room judgin' me the whole time, especially today." He looked around for a moment as if searching for something, then turned back to Eliza. "So, uh… Where's the thing?"

Eliza cocked her head to the side. "Excuse me?"

Angel pointed to one of his hands. "The paper. You know, the thing I'm supposed to sign."

"Oh, that!" Eliza picked up a clipboard, but when Angel put his hand out for it, she halted him. "There is nothing to sign."

"Huh?" Now Angel felt terribly confused. "I thought there was gonna-"

"-Be a contract? I know," Eliza interrupted. "I thought about that. Charlie and Vaggie approved it for use, but…"

"But what?" Angel pressed. "You have a change of heart or somethin'?"

Eliza thought for a moment. "Yes, actually. I decided that Charlie was correct from the beginning. What's the point of honesty if it's forced? So there will be no contract. You are free to lie or be honest at your own discretion."

Angel blinked dumbly at her, unable to process this new information. "Oh… OK." He had no other words.

"Shall we begin?" Eliza asked invitingly. Angel just nodded, and so she proceeded with the first question. "Do you feel as though you've made progress here?"

Angel rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, yea, I guess. I mean, I've been more sober lately."

Eliza nodded slightly as she jotted down her notes. "What are your goals for change before your next evaluation?"

"Um…" Angel leaned back against the couch, trying to relax. "I mean, sobriety has been difficult, but I guess cutting back more." Eliza continued to write, but before she could move on to the next question Angel asked "Hey, do I get to see what you're writing?"

She looked up at him and blinked. "Of course. At the end of the session, you may request a copy. I'll give it to you before you leave, unless you're in a hurry."

"No hurry," he informed her.

"Alright then," she smiled. "What are your long-term goals?"

"Well, total sobriety, I guess. And…" He hesitated. "I guess cutting down on all the sex. I mean, I doubt Heaven'll let me in if I fuck people for money."

"Most likely not," Eliza agreed.

"How long you think I gotta go without?" he asked, leaning on his knees. "Sex, I mean."

Eliza put her clipboard down for a moment and tapped her chin with her pen. "I'm not sure. It's probably not so much about how much time you go without as whether or not something changes inside. Think of it in terms of a drug: you'll wean yourself off, but just about everyone has to overcome an extreme low before they truly start to change as a person. So, until you reach that point, I don't think time matters."

Angel crossed his arms with a huff. "Seriously? I could go years without fucking a John and it might not matta?"

"It doesn't usually take years to reach that point," Eliza replied thoughtfully, "but it is a possibility." Angel muttered to himself, but she couldn't quite understand what he was saying, so she decided to move on. "Do you feel any member of staff is holding you back from your goals?"

A smile slowly spread across Angel's face. "Lemme guess: Bitch-Face wants to know if Radio Daddy's interfering with the hotel?" Eliza just returned his gaze without response, so he laughed. "Nah, no one's really stoppin' me. Al's been more of an annoyance than anythin'. Hey, I gotta ask: Al said he wants to see people fail, but he's not really gettin' in the way so far. Why is that?"

"That's a good question," Eliza answered. "Maybe it's not as much fun if he intervenes? Or perhaps he's just waiting for the right moment. I'm not sure."

"Gotta keep an eye on him," Angel said. "Man's gotta be here for somethin'. Though I guess he could just be that bored. Not like anyone really messes with him. Probably just stays for shits and giggles.''

Eliza's smile widened. "That's as good a lead-in for my next question as any: Is there anything keeping you from wanting to leave Hell?"

Angel stared for a moment. "I guess… I don't think so?" Then he had a thought. "Do you think Heaven would let me bring Fat Nuggets?"

"He's just a little pig, right? I don't see why not."

"I hope so," Angel muttered, getting rather quiet. "I mean, I have Cherri too, but she seems to belong down here, ya know?"

"Is that the friend you mentioned before?" Eliza asked.

Angel face-palmed. "Fuck, I forgot you never met 'er. She came here a while ago hopin' to meet ya."

"Well, I'm sorry I missed her," Eliza apologized. "Is there a specific day she can come? I can try to make sure I'm present for the occasion."

"Nah, she doesn't really do scheduling," Angel answered. "She has to bail a lot, and can be rather flaky about getting somewhere on time, so we just play it by ear."

"Ah, I see." She made another note on the page. "Last question, Angel: Do you honestly intend to pursue redemption moving forward?"

"See, this question is the one that needs its own contract," he said, using his trademark snark to try and dodge the question entirely. "All I have to say is 'yes,' and I get free room and board for two more months."

Eliza took longer than usual to write some notes. "Well then, what's your official answer?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Angel snapped. "I told you all I gotta say is 'yes'!"

"But you didn't," Eliza countered, halting all of her writing and putting down the clipboard entirely. "Why are you angry about this, Angel? You've known for quite some time that this was coming."

"Because people will just use her!" he yelled.

Eliza recoiled slightly, a shadowy tendril snapping behind her. "Excuse me?"

"Charlie!" He stood up and started pacing. "Seriously, that girl treats us like children sometimes! Trusting the honor system, little 'time out' punishments, that disappointed mom look… Does she realize she's dealing with people who have done terrible things? I've done terrible things! I've killed people! Fuck, I still do! Then there's my job. I haven't been able to stop taking the drugs because, half the time, my boss forces them on me-"

Eliza started writing, and Angel froze. "Shit, don't write that."

"It's important information-"

"DON'T WRITE IT!" He reached for the clipboard, and Eliza jumped off the couch.

"That's enough!" she snapped, forgoing her usual polite smile and tone.

"I know she'll see that," he growled, making another attempt. Unlike her previous assailants, Angel was far more dexterous and could change directions quickly, so her dodging failed her. He grabbed her wrist, and the two lost their balance and fell. Sensing her danger, one of her wings burst forth to deal with the threat.

'NO!'

The scream was internal, but the wing halted its advance with a furious shimmer. She felt it start to recoil, but it refused to disappear, hovering just in front of Angel's face. The spider froze above her, still pinning her to the floor, seemingly too terrified to move.

Eliza caught her breath as the wing hovered less than an inch from her client's face, ready to strike. "Angel," she breathed. "Get off me. Slowly." However, the man refused to move. She felt his arms starting to shake. "Angel…"

"Please," he begged, resting his head on the palm of the shadowy appendage. "Don't… Don't let her read that. She doesn't need to know that!"

Eliza was stunned. This was, for all intents and purposes, an absolute breakthrough. She could not see his face beyond her wing, but she could hear him crying. "Angel," she repeated, repressing the wing as best as she could. "I'm serious; I need you to move away. Please."

Very slowly, he crawled off of her, and the wing disappeared with an angry shimmer. As she expected, her back locked, forcing the air out of her lungs with a powerful spasm.

Angel sniffed and looked down at her, shock evident in his eyes. "Shit… Shit, are you OK?"

"I-I'll be OK," she stuttered, fighting to breathe. "It n-needs to pass… Ah!" A muscle along her spine twinged painfully, and her body twitched.

Angel hurried to the couch and borrowed a cushion, putting it under her head. "The fuck is happening?" he demanded. "I… I'll go get Charlie, she'll-"

"No, it's OK," Eliza reassured him. "I'm serious, there's nothing to do but wait it out. It's like a seizure; it just needs to pass."

"I'm sorry." If Angel was emotional before, he felt like absolute shit now. She was just trying to help, and his actions left her lying on the floor in serious pain. "I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to…"

Eliza looked at him, and saw tears streaming down his face. As a therapist, she should call off the session now. It was the professional thing to do. But…

"You really care about Charlie," she commented. Angel looked away, utterly unable to look her in the eyes. He didn't want to say it out loud; that would make it real. She decided to press in spite of this. "Why?"

He let loose a soft sob, trying to bring it all in enough to answer. "No one… No one ever believed in me like this." He laughed sadly. "You know, the first time we met, I told her to pay for my time. I was just being an ass, I didn't expect anything. It's Hell, I'm not stupid enough to think…" His breath caught, and he had to clear his throat to continue. "But she did; she dropped a shitload of cash into my hands. All because I stayed and talked. Called it an 'investment'. An investment in me. I thought she was such an idiot. I mean, who invests in some useless prostitute that can't even pay his debts?"

It was the first time Eliza had ever heard him insult himself like this. Normally he would refer to himself as 'flawless' or 'the best'. To hear him use the word 'useless' was beyond unexpected.

Eliza kicked herself for wanting to comfort him. That's not her job, damn it! She's not his friend. She's just his therapist. Her job is to remain unattached.

'Hey, dumbass,' Id commented from the back of her head. 'Since we're getting all pissy about professionalism, let me remind you that it's your professional duty to erase the notes he asked you to. He's the client, remember? He says no one needs to know, then no one needs to know. Get over yourself and fucking fix it!'

As much as it irked her to admit it, her darker half was right. "I'll erase the last note," she conceded, fighting to lift herself up onto her elbows. "She won't know about being forced to take the drugs. You have my word."

Angel breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, toots-"

"Eliza!" she snapped.

He put up both sets of hands. "Right, sorry, it slipped out!"

She sighed. "I think that effectively ends this session, Angel. Did you still want that copy of my notes?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. Just let me see you take out that last part before I leave. I know you said you would, but…"

He helped her to her feet and half-carried her to the couch, handing her the clipboard he had tried to grab moments ago. She erased the end, replacing it with "Information withheld at client's request." He nodded once before turning to face the door, but he didn't take another step for a few moments.

"Hey, seriously, do you need anything?" He turned sideways to give her a side-long glance, but she shook her head. "Alright. If you change your mind, let me know." He walked out the door and shut it tight behind him, leaving Eliza alone to her thoughts.

"Damn it," she cursed, staring at her hand. She was starting to feel attached. Was it because she was living here at the hotel? She saw her clients almost every day, and it was starting to have an effect on her professionalism. This was not a good development.

"Damn it!"

However, Angel was not going to get much peace as Alastor intercepted him just down the hall. "Why, hello there-"

"Not now, Smiles," Angel interrupted. "Whateva it is, it can wait."

"How rude!" Alastor chastised, though his tone sounded rather bubbly. "I take it things didn't go well with your evaluation?"

"I said shut it," Angel growled.

Alastor's mouth twitched. "And what have I done but show concern for your wellbeing?" Angel faced the Radio Demon, who wore an expression that was distinctly lacking 'concern'.

"Smiles," Angel said with a sarcastic smirk, "you couldn't give a rat's ass about my 'wellbeing.' Leave me alone; it was a rough session."

"Rough?" he pressed, leaning in. "Is that why I heard a scuffle? Did you get 'rough' with our poor little therapist?"

Angel glared daggers into his smug gaze. "Damn it, Smiles, I'm serious; back off. The fuck do you care anyways? You gonna say you care about her, now?"

"This is an investment of mine!" He backed up slightly and threw out his arms, as if claiming the entire hotel as his own. "She is employed here. Should I not be concerned?"

Angel was done with Alastor's shit. "Bullshit. You couldn't give a literal fuck about someone if you could get it up to care! You think I haven't noticed she's been avoiding you? That everyone hasn't noticed? Don't know what the fuck you said or did, but even the most polite person here, a chick who thinks emotional decisions are 'unprofessional', can't stand to be around you. And you're gonna tell me you're fucking concerned?!"

Alastor's eyes switched to dials. "Watch your tone, Angel."

"OR WHAT?!" Angel yelled. He was about ready to snap something in half, and the closest thing to him was this tall, red, smug bastard that was pushing all the wrong buttons. "Or you'll eat me? Kill me? Shove a spear up my ass? GO AHEAD!" He clenched all four of his fists. He reverted back to a quieter voice before continuing "I don't know why you're here, but if it's to piss everyone off, you're doin' a bang up job. Keep up the good work."

Alastor stood there as Angel walked right past him, not even bothering to look at him when the spider added "But if you get bored, don't worry; no one will miss your bullshit if you leave."

Angel went down the elevator to the bottom floor, and was greeted by a buzzed Husk. He looked the spider up and down before reaching into the back of the bar. "Round two?" he called, pulling out two familiar shot glasses. Angel smiled; he was really starting to love that damn cat.

"You're on, Kitty," he taunted, planting his ass on the other side of the counter. "Lay it on me!"

Upstairs, Alastor stood frozen to the spot. Had he been too busy to notice what everyone else was seeing? How could he never tell that she was avoiding him? She was polite as always; smiling sweetly like she did to everyone else. But as he thought back to the few days following their last real conversation over her handwriting, he realized the spider was right. She would always excuse herself to go work on something, or quickly divert him to something or someone else so that she could walk away. He spent a few days away at his house, taking care of other matters because things were too slow at the hotel to be particularly interesting for now, but would he have even noticed if he stayed?

Why was Angel so angry? Why was Eliza avoiding him? And, most importantly:

Why did either fact bother him?

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. It shook him out of his thoughts, and caught the attention of both Angel and Husk, who had yet to down their first shot.

"I'll get it!" Angel called. Alastor heard him from the mezzanine and decided to watch from there, not feeling like going downstairs at the moment. When Angel opened the door, he was surprised to see a suspiciously run-down vehicle take off, leaving a package on their doorstep. It was a surprisingly large, rectangular box. "Hey Kitty, gonna need a hand! Big ass fuckin' box!"

Husk came up to him and looked out the door, cocking one of his fluffy red eyebrows. "The fuck is that?"

Angel read the shipping label carefully, and by the time he was done, all he could do was blink. "The… fuck? Who ordered this?!"

IMP Headquarters, several days ago:

"Blitz!" Loona called. She rubbed her temples as that morning's hangover pounded against her skull. "Gotta call from some business prick. Said he works for, I don't know, Heybazzi's factory or some shit; got an offer for you."

"Heybazzi, Heybazzi," Blitz repeated, trying to remember where he knows that name from. "Nodda clue. What's he want?"

"Says he needs confirmation or some shit," she informed him in a bored tone.

He picked up the phone in his office. "'Sup?"

"Hey there!" greeted the voice on the other line. "You've been selected-"

"Alright, see, gotta stop ya there," Blitz interrupted, filing his nails. "See, whenever someone says that, I gotta pay for shit, and I ain't paying for shit. Got me?"

"It's entirely free, sir."

"Then I'm all ears!" Blitz replied, excitedly. "What is it? Weapons? A horse? A dildo I can give to Stolas so he'll leave me alone?"

"I-" the voice on the other end faltered for a moment. "No, it's a robotic helper designed by our factory. We'd like you to test it out and send feedback as to its effectiveness-"

"Can it kill people?" Blitz interrupted.

A pause. "Yes."

"Does it have sex features?"

"Yes."

"If I command it to go on a murder spree, leaving behind tokens on corpses and stealing everyone's cash, would it do it?"

Another pause. This time, his voice sounded surprised but pleasantly certain. "Probably."

"I'll take it!" He slammed down his phone. "WOOHOO! I'm getting a package!"

Two days later:

"Oh Christ on a stick," Blitz muttered as he read the label. "It's not Heybazzi's factory, it's Big Ozzie's factory! It's amazing how often that gets confused."

"Something wrong, sir?" Moxie inquired, looking down at the surprisingly large box that his boss was currently reading the label of.

"Those bastards!" he yelled, almost clocking his subordinate in the face as he stood up. "They know it was me… This is revenge!"

"Revenge for what, sir?"

"Not the time, Mox!" he said, shoving the smaller imp out of his way. "I've gotta get rid of it. But I can't send it back. They'll hound me for it, and might try to charge me for it if I destroy it!"

"What did they want you to do?"

"Test it," he growled, grinding his teeth. "Those bastards wanted me to- ugh!" He kicked the box in disdain.

"Maybe you could send it to someone else?" his employee suggested. "You know, say that it wouldn't really work for you and you sent it to someone who needs it more?"

"Anyone who knows me knows I'm not that nice," Blitz argued. Then he paused as a thought occurred to him, looking down at Moxie with a malicious grin. "But you're that nice, aren't you?"

Moxie never thought he would regret such a compliment as much as he did now.

"Oh-ho-ho! This is perfect!" He raced around the office, collecting information and handing his secretary some stuff. "Loony, could you print these out for me?"

"K." She took the stuff. Whatever it was, she was watching videos on Voxtube, which was clearly far more important than asking about it.

"Sir, what are you doing?" Moxie asked, looking at his boss with mild concern, though it was more for his own well-being than anything.

"I'm sending it to that hotel!" he answered. "You know, the one the princess built? They need help, probably won't ask questions, and are MILES away! Yes, that's a great place for it. And if anyone gets mad…" he pressed a finger into Moxie's nose, leaning over him with a smug smile, "I can pin it all on you!"

Moxie stood there, watching his boss walk away looking all too pleased about his brilliant scheme. He facepalmed. "Crumbs."