* There was an interesting headcanon that some of the fandom has, with most speculating if Charlie can in fact be injured by angelic weapons. I hope you guys don't mind me using that headcanon.

Does Fear Keep You Alive?

One of the reasons why Princess Charlotte's idea for a redemption hotel was one of complete madness was because of the angels themselves. No one in Hell trusted them.

Why would they? Once a year, they descended from Heaven to slaughter and lay waste to everything. Countless homes, countless lives, all demolished simply because Heaven thought it best? There was no use in confronting them, no use in stopping them…No use in being brave.

Many people in Hell talked a big talk. All arrogant and reckless. Plenty of royals and overlords, hell-born or otherwise, had very similar mentalities like this as well. However, if one brought up the subject of the angels, all arrogance went right out the window, being replaced with looks of unabashed fear from everyone in the vicinity. Those that were reckless would gladly admit to being so any day of the week.

Just not towards the angels. Never towards the angels. It wasn't a battle worth fighting.

Which Charlie agreed with all of that. There definitely was no use in risking your life by going up against beings that were so formidable. So, why didn't she feel intimidated by them like everyone else?

She definitely respected them, as in giving them respectful distance. However, she always wondered why she never had a healthy fear of them. One time, as a child, she asked her father this.

It absolutely baffled Lucifer. Though the angels were his previous brethren, even he had enough sense to be terrified of them. He had every reason to be, given the ruthless manner in which he was expelled from Heaven. It made Lucifer sigh a little, yet again reminding himself that his daughter was an odd one.

His explanation for her was a vague one, stating that it was probably, once again, her angelic genetics playing a part. Perhaps it was instinctual that she wasn't afraid. And he left it at that.

Charlie sighed. As she rolled over to face away from Alastor, she thought long and hard about that. Her father's explanation made sense, she supposed. It had always made sense. However, what refused to leave her mind was why she had asked that question to him in the first place. That particular day was the very first day that she'd actually seen the aftermath that the angels left behind in their wake.

Now that she thought about it, was her genetics really the reason? What about her drive to help her people? Well, they technically weren't her people anymore, but that wouldn't want to make her help any less. There was also one other theory she had –

And it made her cringe and slam her eyes shut. Things were going so well at the Hotel. She didn't want to think about it. She couldn't!

Alastor's arms tightened more securely around her. "I assume you're worried about tomorrow," he mused. There was a pause as he shifted a little behind her, as if looking for something. Then, he settled again. "Well, tomorrow is actually already here according to that clock, but you get the idea."

Charlie cringed again at that information.

He hummed, a concerned sound. One of his arms untangled from her waist, and he gently stroked a hand up and down her arm. Then, the hand continued to travel over the curve of her shoulder, until it found her jaw. "You needn't be," he murmured as he stroked her face. "You know as well as I do that it's fairly uncommon for angels to barge into homes and establishments. They often have far too many stragglers in the streets at their disposal. So long as everyone stays in doors as they know to do, we shouldn't have any problems."

"Th-" Charlie muttered restlessly. "That's not it."

"Oh? What is it, then?"

Charlie tried to find words, because maybe it would help to untangle her thoughts if she just said them out loud, especially to someone she trusted so much. However, with her mind going at what seemed like hundreds of miles per hour, she didn't even know where to start. She vaguely heard Alastor asking her to face him as his hand stilled against her cheek, but she was too distracted.

At least her thoughts seemed to be maintaining a consistent pattern, always circling back to wanting to help, wanting everyone to have the choice and chance to be redeemed. How the hell was she even supposed to accomplish all of that anyway? With another year having passed by in a blink, and with the Cleanse only hours away, and with the angels getting ready to…

Charlie's eyes widened.

The fingers on her face were a little more insistent, coaxing her. She finally let them guide her, even aiding him by rolling herself completely around to face him.

"You went extremely quiet on me just now," he commented, creases appearing between his eyebrows. The tell-tale sign of a worrying Alastor. "Tell me what's wrong."

Charlie inhaled and exhaled deeply, determinedly. "I have an idea."

Alastor liked to laugh. Not only because it went with a smile, but also because his kind of laughter left people comically annoyed and paranoid. Charlie was that one rare soul who thoroughly enjoyed his laughter. Hearing him laugh in this moment wasn't what upset Charlie. It was the way he was laughing.

He started off snickering, then he was suddenly wheezing hysterically, which eventually dove into full-on boisterous laughter, until it finally tapered off into exhausted chuckling as he wiped his thumbs against the corners of his eyes.

What an idea she had! What a thought! As he chuckled at this nonsense, he finally opened his eyes to look at Charlie…and upon seeing her frown, the room fell uncomfortably silent.

His smile nearly slipped. "You're not laughing."

Charlie shook her head. "No. Because it's not a joke."

"Ah."

After that, they were silent again, and his eyes were continuing to search her face. Then, he moved to sit up, which Charlie followed suit. They leaned against the headboard, the atmosphere getting more and more troubled as they refused to break eye contact with one another.

Charlie flexed her jaw as she observed Alastor. His smile was tense now, in disbelief, but he didn't say anything. At all. Which was not what Charlie was expecting out of him, out of this situation. She sighed, knowing she'd have to be the one to break the silence.

"You're not saying much."

"Oh," he chuckled emptily, devoid of any humor. "I have much to say, believe you me."

She nodded once, encouragingly. "I want to hear what you have to say. I need to hear it."

He shook his head slowly at her, his smile shaking, as if this were hard for him. "Surely you cannot expect me to agree to this…this…scheme of yours. If you can even call it that."

"You've always been supportive of my ideas, which I always appreciate," Charlie said. "But you also know when to tell me something probably isn't going to work, which I appreciate even more somehow."

"Exactly," he said, his tone clipped. "This won't work."

"So let's brainstorm together like we always do. How can we make this work?"

He shook his head stiffly. "This. Won't. Work." He paused to exhale. "Because I won't let you."

That made Charlie freeze. She stared at Alastor, unsure of how to respond to that. There'd been plenty of times that he'd opposed her ideas. This in turn made them work together to figure out a better solution. He'd always seemed to understand her drive to do things one way or another. Not once, though, did he ever prevent her from going forward with any idea at all.

Alastor continued, waving his hand dismissively, as if that were the end of the conversation. "We will figure out another way to redeem these parasites of yours."

Charlie swallowed. "Then, what do you suggest?"

"I don't have a suggestion at this time, Charlie. All I know is that this is not the way to do it." He leaned forward to cup the side of her face, and Charlie watched as a tiny bit of his tension seemed to melt away with that little action. "I know you care very deeply about this hotel of yours, my dearest. But I care about you far more. If the roles were reversed, do you think you'd be letting me do this?"

She shook her head at him, almost nudging his hand away in the process. "That's not fair. I –" She cut herself off, and narrowed her eyes at him. "That…actually doesn't matter. That logic, I mean. Because in that situation, you'd be me. And you would be doing everything in your power to help the people in your home. To use every resource that you can to help them move on to a better life."

Something in Alastor's eyes flashed. Not only was it the realization of the obvious meaning of her words, but there was also irritation at how she managed to turn that around on him. It was enough to make him at a loss for words, which Charlie took advantage of the extra silence.

"My dad was a fallen angel. He was the one I would've…begrudgingly gone to. But I don't have my parents anymore. I don't have those kinds of resources at my disposal anymore. But this. Today. This is the resource I currently have. I'm not saying it'll work, but I refuse to say that I didn't try." She then drifted her hand upward to cup his face as well. "I knew you weren't going to be thrilled about this, but…I have to try, Al."

It was their first argument as a couple, if one could even call it that. Neither of them had a temper, but their words were spoken with complete frustration towards the other.

From somewhere outside the Hotel, there was the sound of something landing in Hell. This was followed by the sickening clash of metal slicing through flesh. The panicked screams of the damned filled the air, getting louder and louder.

This year's Cleanse had begun.

They were never able reach a compromise, both of them knowing each other all too well to know that wouldn't be possible.

Alastor didn't bother to stop Charlie as she got dressed and got ready, simply wanting her to remain in his sight for as long as possible. He wordlessly followed her through the Hotel, his background static buzzing agitatedly all the while. It was still very early in the morning, so no sinners were up yet. It was just the two of them, now in the foyer, standing near the front doors.

As Charlie checked herself over to make sure she looked presentable, Alastor leaned ever casually against the opposite wall as he fidgeted with his microphone stand. It should be noted that he wasn't feeling casual in the slightest. And then there was Charlie, who looked as calm and neutral as anything.

"So," Charlie eventually asked, spreading her arms out. "How do I look?"

"You look lovely," he responded automatically, wholeheartedly. "As you always do." There was no lie there. She wore her usual attire, consisting of her black and white shoes, black pants, white shirt, and suspenders. She also put on her pink jacket that she normally wore to more formal occasions. Though in his eyes, she could be wearing nothing but burlap and she would still look like the most beautiful being he'd ever laid eyes on. Yet, he couldn't stop the sarcasm. "As lovely as one can be as they march off towards willing foolishness."

She frowned. "Al-"

"I understand why you feel you must do this. Do I have to support it? Yes. But does it mean I have to like it? No."

She sighed. "I…Yeah. I get what you're saying." She gave him a half-smile. "Thanks. Not just for supporting me, but…for your honesty as always."

He nodded. "That'll have to do, won't it," he supposed.

She nodded.

Then, Alastor's smile twisted into a half grimace. "Except…It won't do…Unless you'll agree to a compromise that I just thought of?"

Charlie's eyes brightened at that. "Y-Yeah! What do you have in mind?"

Without pause, Alastor loudly clicked his fingers. His personal shadow immediately appeared. It leaned its elbow on his shoulder, wearing its ever-wicked grin as it stared at Alastor, eagerly awaiting orders.

"My shadow will go with you," he stated, practically leaving no room for argument. "Not so that it can mindlessly attack the angels, but…to give me peace of mind. Will you please agree to this?"

Charlie began shaking her head, thinking this wasn't the best idea. She and him already had a brief argument that Alastor himself couldn't come, that it could be too dangerous. It didn't matter how powerful Alastor was, the angelic weapons were meant to kill demons instantly. Charlie was hoping that she'd be at least somewhat safe given that she was only half demon. She had no doubt they could hurt her to some degree and she would have to be careful, but she wasn't about to risk Alastor's life when hers probably had a more decent chance than him.

However, now that she thought about it, his shadow was different than him in some aspects. For example, its form could phase through objects like a ghost. After a few moments, Charlie gave a reluctant nod, and she watched as Alastor's shoulders sagged ever-so-slightly in relief.

Then, he cleared his throat and addressed his shadow. "Accompany Charlie whilst she confronts these angels. You are not to attack on sight. You are to follow any orders she gives you. And if she gives you none, then you do nothing."

The shadow nodded enthusiastically, and it made to move towards Charlie. That's when a threatening, clawed hand suddenly gripped its chest. The hand once again forced the shadow to be face-to-face with the glowing, threatening, red eyes of its master.

"You may be my shadow. And there very well could be consequences should I decide to destroy you myself," Alastor continued, his voice becoming distorted with growing static. "I care not for that. She is to come back to me in one piece. That isn't negotiable…Do I make myself clear?"

The shadow was no longer smiling. Its mouth was curved downward in pure terror as it silently gulped and nodded instantly.

Just like that, the hand dropped. "Good show," Alastor praised it with a harsh smile.

As soon as the shadow was free, it launched itself away, not stopping until it was behind Charlie. Once there, it grinned and dipped its head at her respectfully. Then, it sank to the floor, shaping itself to become Charlie's interim shadow. As Charlie watched the shadow, Alastor continued speaking, now addressing her.

"My shadow is obedient, especially to you, but it is not a dog. Command it as you see fit, but at the end of the day, it has a mind of its own. And its drive to keep you safe is just as strong as mine is."

Before Charlie could look at Alastor again, she found herself being crushed against his chest. His arms were tight around her, as if he couldn't fathom letting go of her ever again.

"Please," he spoke desperately into her hair. "Please I-" He stopped himself to huff, almost sounding frustrated. Then, he exhaled, nuzzling his face against her shoulder, his voice just barely a whisper. "…I love you far too much."

Charlie's breath caught in her throat. "Y-You-"

Once more, he gathered her face in his hands, making her bewildered face look at his. "Do as you must," he said. "But, please…Come back to me. Safe and sound. Can you do that for me?"

Swallowing, Charlie nodded, unable to find any words, too blindsided by his confession to be able to say it back.

Alastor placed a lingering kiss to her lips.

He abruptly turned away and scowled at the door when they heard another blood-curdling scream from another unfortunate demon.

"I'll give you a little more than half an hour," he told her. "But do understand that if you're not back by then that I'll come looking for you."

Charlie shook her head firmly. "We already said it wasn't a good idea for you to even remotely come with me."

"It matters not," he countered. "I'll no sooner attempt to destroy every angel I see than be left wondering why you haven't returned to me." He kissed her once more. And then he looked at her with a small, fond smile. It wasn't exactly his soft smile, the one he reserved only for her, but it was close enough, and still ever affectionate. "I suppose…that if anyone could charm those vicious creatures they call angels into redeeming soles…it could be you."

Charlie smiled at him. "You really think I can do it?"

"For your well-being and my sanity…I certainly hope so."

It had been a long time since she'd willingly gone out onto the streets during a Cleanse. As soon as she closed the Hotel doors behind her, she was reminded why. Even though she didn't fear the angels, she knew to avoid all of the destruction. That no matter what she did, she couldn't stop it, not alone at least. No, for that she'd need help. And she had to directly go to some very unlikely beings to do it.

As she walked, she quickly became overwhelmed. Her ears picked up on every loud scream, shout, gurgle, and gasp for breath. Her eyes stung with the smoke from destroyed vehicles and weak buildings. Her nostrils were flooded with the nauseating stench of torn and decaying bodies.

As she walked passed every single corpse lying on the pavement, she briefly glanced at each one, just to be sure they weren't any of her residents that might have stayed out late. It was also to honor the fallen with one last acknowledgement, as most of the demons she observed she had at least had once seen in passing.

The last of her senses was her sense of touch, of which she used to hug herself and rub her hands up and down her arms. Every single part of her good-natured being was being bombarded by hellish chaos.

Her hearing picked up on the sound of another body hitting the sidewalk, and metal being yanked from its flesh. Finally, more smoked cleared until a couple of tall beings appeared in her vision.

All three of the angels looked very similar. They were grey and black all over their bodies, with the backs of their large wings appearing to be the darkest, and they had curled horns and jagged-looking halos atop their heads. The only differences between them were their faces, which they didn't show. They wore masks that appeared to be covered with a screen, as their facial expressions appeared to glitch every now and then. Their overall expressions seemed to be unchanging, though, with some smiling and some frowning.

Before she could take a determined step forward, she felt a hand clutch her shoulder. Alastor's shadow stared at her, shaking its head.

"Please stay hidden," she asked. "Not only for your sake because I don't know whether they can hurt you or not, but I also don't want them to see us as a threat."

The shadow scowled blandly at her, as if to retort, Do they even need a reason?

"Please," she urged.

With extreme reluctance, it once again faded away, trailing on the ground behind her.

As she continued towards the angels, she honestly had no clue what to do now that she was close. How was she supposed to address them? How was she supposed to get them to stop if they chose to attack? She certainly wasn't going to let the shadow fight for her in any capacity. Because Alastor was right. What consequence would there be for him should his own shadow be destroyed?

Her over-thinking thoughts came to a grinding halt when the angels caught sight of her, making everyone, including Charlie, stop in their tracks. They stared at her, their masks glitching and fizzling almost contemplatively as they stood absolutely still.

Charlie released her own arms and straightened her back, remembering that some would consider it rude to appear shy. No one could've prepared her for speaking with any angelic being, though.

"H-Hi," she began, unable to stop her default politeness. "My name is Charlie. And I-"

When she stuck out her hand to invite one of them to shake it, an offer of peace, they instantly surrounded her, almost smothering her with their presence. Before she could utter or stammer another word, an angel aimed a heavenly spear at her throat.

CLANGGG!

All was forced to halt when Alastor's shadow closed its hand like a bear trap around the shaft of the spear, stopping it from going further. Despite its form hovering apprehensively over Charlie, its hand remained unyielding.

All of the angels stared at the shadow, as if they couldn't believe the audacity.

This close, Charlie noticed that the angel holding the spear had red coloration in its eyes and mouth, unlike the other ones who had stark white in their features. From what she remembered, the ones with the red seemed to be the leaders of the Cleanses.

When the leader refused to move, the shadow grew impatient, its eyes glowing and its body hunching, ready to strike.

"J-Just wait," Charlie ordered it, making the angels look sharply at her. She tried to swallow in order to speak more clearly, but the tip of the spear shifted sharply against her throat. And she could now feel a burning sensation coming from there. She gulped again. She knew the spear could obviously damage her, but this is one hell of a way to find out it could do just as much damage as if she were just any other demon.

"Just wait," she repeated. Looking at the angel, she said in a more determined voice, "I run a hotel…f-for redemption purposes. Souls that can-"

The angel merely shook its head at this nonsense. Charlie gasped as she now felt the spear stinging painfully. In a rare occurrence, the shadow hissed angrily, the sound piercing the air like radio feedback. Alastor's shadows hardly ever vocalized.

"Just stop," Charlie exclaimed, not knowing her voice would be that loud. "Both of you, stop!"

As the angel glanced hurriedly between Charlie and the shadow, the other angels were gathering closer, trapping Charlie, ready to assist their comrade. The shadow was also glancing rapidly at Charlie, debating on whether to wait for her orders or to take over the situation. Charlie couldn't give it that chance.

Desperately, Charlie searched her mind. Not necessarily for a solution, but for a way to at least make everything stop. What could she do? They were ready to kill her without thinking, just as they always do. Just like with any other demon. How was she supposed to get that to stop?

Then, an idea coming to mind. Given that she wasn't a full demon, that meant she had knowledge that no other demon would have. And she now had a situation in which to use it.

She opened her mouth, her chin bumping against the blade of the spear. The words that flew from her mouth were rushed and desperate, and they were of a language that she hadn't spoken since when she was first taught them. "Please! I beg of you to stop! If only for a moment."

Everyone stopped. And they all turned their bewildered gazes to stare at her.

Charlie glanced up at Alastor's shadow, who was staring at her as well, beyond confused and awaiting her orders. She mumbled to the shadow to let go, now that things were more under control. After a stubborn staring contest that lasted many seconds, the shadow faded away once more.

The leader of this group of angels glanced around wildly, so distracted that the spear drifted away from Charlie, extremely unsure of what to make of things. "What…did you say," he eventually asked her.

Charlie tried to clear her throat as she attempted to confidently straighten her spine. "I said, if you would please stop-"

"Yes, I heard all of that," he snapped at her, no longer in that language. "Where on earth did you learn to speak one of the angelic languages?"

Charlie bit her lip, keeping silent, not finding the explanation relevant or important to her, or this situation.

He leaned forward, and Charlie could sense he was about to demand he tell her.

"My name is Charlie," she began quickly. "I run a – My home...It's a hotel that redeems sinners. To eventually send them to heaven. Or…That's the goal, at least. And a lot of them, almost all of them, are doing well. So well! They really have a chance, in my opinion." She paused. "Would you please consider giving them that chance?"

Slowly, the angel straightened up so he was no longer towering over her. The other angels stepped back, giving them room while talking quietly and contemplatively amongst each other. Alastor's shadow, which had been pacing restlessly behind Charlie finally settled into just being her shadow again.

The leader fidgeted with the spear, unsure of what to make of this. And then he said, "What makes you think we want to redeem souls?"