* I sincerely apologize for the amount of grammatical and technical errors in the last chapter. I've been fixing them as I see them. Hopefully I got them all.

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"W…What?"

Charlie didn't actually know when she had uttered this word. The angel's question continued to bombard her thoughts, over and over, like a bell toll beating mockingly against her brain. It drowned out everything else. She no longer heard the chaos of the Cleanse, or even the other angels dispersing to continue their extermination. She couldn't even properly focus on their leader to talk to him or question him.

The angel slowly shook his head at her with an insufferable sigh. "We are not interested in redeemed souls," he said, his tone almost sounding bored.

Some broken words croaked in Charlie's throat as disbelief continued to repeatedly slam into her. "I – I don't…"

One of the other angels approached and placed his hand on the leader's shoulder. "We should carry on," he told him casually. He spared Charlie a single glance. "Destroy this one and let us move on with our day."

The leader stared at Charlie as he gripped his spear, but he didn't move forward.

"Sir," the angel asked.

"Do you notice how she does not look like a normal demon," the leader mused. "It is quite fascinating."

"Hmm, I suppose so…" was the other angel's disinterested response. "Well, it is your call, as you know," he sighed as he walked away. "You do as you wish. We will meet you somewhere further into the city."

For a few more seconds, the leader continued to stare curiously at Charlie, no longer holding the spear so tightly. Then, abruptly, he turned on his heel and made to join the others.

For some reason, that made Charlie snap out of it. Just like that, her senses were flooded again with the sounds, smells, and sights of Hell being destroyed around her. Every single body that she heard dropping to the ground got louder and louder, as if someone was slowly turning the volume up.

It was loud. So loud! She couldn't lower the volume. She couldn't make it stop.

She couldn't help.

Her goal, from the very beginning, was to fix this. To end all of the suffering, terror, and needless killing within Hell each year. To give everyone a second chance if they wanted it. And here she was, watching and listening to everything raging on around her, without her. It was as if the angels couldn't even be bothered by her presence now, let alone her…unsuccessful, fruitless, laughable idea.

She once again wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth clenching painfully together as she willed the tears not to fall. She swiveled her head around, almost feeling lifeless – helpless – as she looked in every disorienting direction, at every life that was meeting its ruthless end at the hands of these heavenly beings.

Charlie watched the leader going to join his comrades, and she felt her own fingernails digging sharply into the skin of her upper arms, as if doing so would help her feel the pain of the dying souls around. God, she was tired of it all. She was tired of the death and the chaos. She hated that it got worse with every passing year. She hated that not one of her passionate ideas ever came to fruition.

She hated that no one wanted to help.

Before the leader got out of sight, she also thought that she couldn't stand that the angels themselves didn't want to help. She released her arms.

…She couldn't accept that.

Eyes narrowed, she sprinted after the angel. In quick, long, purposefully strides that made her joints protest, she didn't stop, not until she cut off the angel's path and stopped him.

The leader dropped his spear in surprise as he stared down at her, in complete shock. "I…spared you," he responded after a few seconds, his hands clenched at his sides. "You have some nerve-"

"You need to hear me out," Charlie interrupted. "I…I know it's a crazy idea. God, it's been a crazy idea from start to finish! But I don't get it! Why wouldn't you want to…" She buried her face in her hands, exhaling harshly, trying to keep herself composed. When she lifted her head, she frowned sternly at him. "The residents in my hotel…They're not perfect, and maybe they still have a long way to go. I can accept that. But…But what I cannot accept is you just-just…brushing them off like that!"

The leader's hands were still clenched, but there was a break in his demeanor. An ever-so-slight tilt of the head.

"They've been working hard," she continued stubbornly, not caring if a couple frustrated tears fell. "Not only working hard for themselves, but for each other, too. The progress they've all made has been small, and they all go at their own pace, but it's progress! And you…you need to see that."

Charlie gestured to their surroundings. "We don't want this every year. And I'm willing to bet anything that you guys don't want it either."

The leader continued to scrutinize her, and Charlie wondered what his facial expressions were, what emotions he might've been giving away behind his face mask.

Finally, and in an oddly patient tone, he said, "We do not need a redemption establishment."

"But it could help with the overpopulation!"

"Last I checked, that's what we have these annual Cleanses for." He lifted his gaze above her shoulder, towards his fellow angels. "Now, I suggest you get inside somewhere before you become another fatality."

Before he could brush past her, Charlie once again stepped in his path. "At least visit the Hotel," she suggested swiftly. "It doesn't have to be today. It could be a day less…violent than this, and when nobody is defensive or up in arms."

With a huff, now losing patience, he physically pushed her aside, making her stumble.

But Charlie wouldn't stop. "If you could just meet them for yourself-"

The leader spun around and bent down until he was inches from her face. "We are not interested in this folly of an idea. These sinners are here for a reason. If we wanted to redeem souls, we would do so ourselves. We have far too much going on up in Heaven as it is, and we do not have time for it. Now, if you'll be so kind as to get out of my sight. You are pushing your-"

"Well, wait," Charlie interrupted, her brows coming together. "What's going on in Heaven?"

The leader immediately straightened up, as if her words had physically caused him to do so. He stood there rigidly, not saying a word for the longest time. Charlie didn't know why he responded like this, but she did know that it was something that she shouldn't have asked.

Finally, the leader shook his head, as if to clear a daze. "That is…none of your concern. It is not the business of a demon." He swiped an exasperated – maybe even tired – hand over his face, jostling his mask. Charlie nearly caught a glimpse of his face before it fell back into place. That's when she noticed his head was now lifted in the direction of the Hotel.

"That eyesore in the distance," he mused curiously. "I take it that's yours."

She sighed. "Yes. That's my hotel."

He scratched his chin, keeping his gaze towards the Hotel. Even from that great of a distance, he analyzed it as if he were directly in front of it. He was also muttering under his breath. Charlie could only make out snippets of what he was saying.

"Yes. Hmm…Yes…I suppose you do have some souls…that could…Quite possibly…" Then, he gave a long sigh as he acknowledged Charlie once more. "You've worked long and hard to make this work, it seems."

Charlie nodded once, resolutely. "Yes. Not just me, though. They've all worked hard."

"It shows," he nodded. "I'll admit to that…It shows." He glanced at the Hotel again. "And your goal is to redeem these lost and wayward souls."

"Yes. Will you please consider giving them that chance?"

He shook his head at her. "I cannot," he said, and Charlie could've sworn she heard an apology in his tone. "Your work is admirable and just, but it is not what we are looking for." He sighed. "A shame. All that work. All for naught."

An explosion rang out behind him. Both he and Charlie looked at the cluster of angels, who were all picking themselves off the ground after a dilapidated building nearly collapsed on them.

"Clumsy oafs," the leader grumbled. That's when he looked at Charlie again, with his head tilted thoughtfully once more. "Hmm. Well, unfortunately, I cannot do anything for this redemption proposal of yours. However, I fear I also cannot let your fine work go to waste." He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the destroyed building. "As you know, we may not do it often, but we do have to enter buildings on occasion to…carry out our work."

As he gave one final look towards the Hotel, he said, "I will communicate to my brethren not to touch your hotel. I don't know if I can convince them, but I will try. Who knows? Perhaps someday I can even convince them to specifically leave your residents alone should they find themselves outside during the Cleanse. But that is long shot."

Charlie's shoulders sagged as she stared at the ground.

"It is not enough for you," the leader stated.

She shook her head in response.

He sighed. "I am afraid it will have to be."

Frustrated, and feeling defeated, Charlie all but scratched the tears away from her face. When she looked up, she could see through her bleary eyes that the leader was gone.

Everything was quiet once more, as Charlie was now left alone with her own thoughts. Mechanically, she walked back to the Hotel, staring at the ground, not even remotely in a rush. Once again, she only vaguely observed how everything moved around her, as if in a fog, or some twisted nightmare that left her helpless to do anything but observe.

The odd demon ruthlessly shoved her out of the way to dodge an oncoming attack. Debris occasionally was kicked up into her face. And the angels…They bustled around her, avoiding her completely. Had the leader said something to them already? Or did they sense that she wasn't a normal demon? Or perhaps they sensed that she wasn't necessarily afraid of them? Even Alastor's shadow didn't currently feel threatened. On their way back to the Hotel, not once did it make an appearance.

Soon, the lights of her hotel came into view, making her look up. So far, thankfully, it was still standing amongst it all. She could also see the shadows that guarded the Hotel, nearly all of them making a rare consistent appearance as they paced back and forth in front of it. When they caught sight of her, they grinned, seemed to relax, and flitted aside to allow her to pass.

Charlie once again looked at the ground, more tears falling. She didn't want to feel welcomed. She didn't want to feel like she'd done something good.

She vaguely caught sight of the shadows hurriedly gesturing for her to quickly enter the Hotel, all of them keeping a lookout for any angels. Charlie snorted. It was probably baffling to them to see her take her time, to see that she wasn't afraid of the current events.

Charlie had a third theory as to why she wasn't afraid of the angels. Her enthusiasm to help those that needed it, to give her residents the resources for a second chance, the motivation to not let anyone down, including herself…

The need to not be a failure doesn't leave much room for fear.

Before her hands even touched the door handles, the doors were already swinging open. An arm hooked itself around her waist and pulled her inside the low light of the foyer as the doors slammed shut behind her. She was being all but crushed against a familiar chest.

"Charlie," he whispered in utter, total relief. "…Thank goodness." She felt him pull back some, but just enough to remove his face from her hair. "I tried to give you as much time as possible, especially after I felt my shadow mysteriously calm down. But by god I was so close to all but ripping down these doors to go and find you."

Charlie simply stood there, most of her face still pressed against his chest, her hands clenched at her sides despite wanting to hold onto him for dear life.

Alastor took note of her obvious silence. As he tried to get a better look at her face, he quipped, "Niffty would've had a field day cleaning up that kind of mess, wouldn't you say, my dearest?"

Charlie wanted to at least manage a fake chuckle or even a snort, but all she managed to do was gulp dryly.

Concern filling him far too quickly for his liking, he gripped her shoulders to fully look at her. "What is it?" He happened to ask this question just as his eyes fell upon on a small, angry, red blemish on her throat. He gently stroked his thumb over the burn mark, swiping away a bit of dried blood in the process. That made his own blood boil, and he had to force his radio static not to rise in volume.

"Does this hurt," Alastor asked. He could've laughed, for his shadow immediately fled the scene upon hearing this question, with its metaphorical tail between its legs. He shook his head, not feeling humor in the slightest. He would deal with his shadow later, if he was in a vindictive mood, that is.

Charlie shook her head at him.

"Then, what is it," he asked hastily. He had seen Charlie's many moods over the last year. Sorrow, pain, happiness, liveliness, but not numb. No, actually. Numb was too generous of a word.

She looked drained. Completely, horribly drained. And he couldn't stand it.

Charlie inhaled shakily. Blindly, she reached her hand behind her, feeling for the wall, to have something to lean against. God knows she didn't have much else left with the support of her own passion now tossed mercilessly out the window. Support was an odd thing, though, because everyone had their own definition on what could be considered supportive.

Alastor's arms immediately went around her torso again. He didn't want her to drift away on him, now that he was getting some sort of response from her.

When Charlie finally looked up at him, her eyes wet and red, she ended the silence.

"You were right all along, Al…No one's getting redeemed."

As she told Alastor what had happened between her and one of the lead angels, she struggled to look him in the eyes. This made him firmly, but gently, hold her face so she couldn't look away. For some reason, he feared she would get off track or stop altogether if he didn't do so.

Her voice was frighteningly neutral in the beginning, speeding through each little detail monotonously, but detailed nonetheless. She left nothing out. He waited for it, though. He might not be good at empathy, but Charlie was. Emotional by nature, she couldn't maintain this for very long. He didn't encourage nor discourage her as she sped to the inevitable, hoping that it's what she might need.

She was now explaining how persistent she was, about how she couldn't let that infuriating angel walk away. Her voice was quivering now, stuttering over her words as tears ran freely down her cheeks. And once she was done explaining that the angel would at least want the Hotel to be spared each year…Well, he obviously hadn't been with her at the time, and he didn't particularly know why this was so pivotal for her, but it finally happened.

Choking on a final word, Charlie gripped the front of his suit and cried against him. Though her body jolted sharply with every new rush of tears, she was silent, as if she'd already done enough talking, enough vocalizing of all her frustrations.

Alastor stood there, one of his arms still around her waist, with his other hand pressed against the back of her neck to keep her against him. He didn't say a word. He didn't do anything to soothe her. Now that he'd listen to every hopeless word she'd said, what else could he do except let her lean on him as much as she needed?

Minutes later, she was sagging, pressing all of her weight lifelessly against him as every last shred of emotion seemed to be wrung out of her.

Well, now.

That just won't do.

"So," Alastor exclaimed, making Charlie flinch at the unexpected enthusiasm. "Back to business as usual?"

Back to…

What?

Charlie stepped back until she was standing upright. Well, more like stumbled, in all honesty. But that didn't bother her. No, what was extremely baffling to her was Alastor's face. He wore his usual exuberant smile, no concern whatsoever, as if her tears weren't currently stained on his suit.

Charlie gaped at him. "What? Di-Didn't you hear what I said? All of that? This is it. There is no redemption. For anyone!" She wanted to hang her head, to not have to look at him, but she couldn't for some reason. "I…failed."

Alastor tilted his head. "How so?"

Beyond confused, beyond exasperated, Charlie gestured wildly with her hands towards the door, towards themselves, and yet towards nothing in particular. "Didn't you hear what I just said?!"

He laughed once. "And you're going to let such pompous creatures get to you? Have more dignity than that."

She shook her head with a growl. "It's not about dignity, Al. We can't get anyone's souls redeemed. This hotel is useless! I fa-"

"Tell that to all of the sinners who willingly live here, then."

Charlie stared at him, her mouth set in a hard line, but…she didn't have a response for that.

"You've given them a fine and safe place to stay."

"They're not getting redeemed, though," she countered.

"Maybe, maybe not," he mused. "That would be an interesting matter of perspective. But let's not digress."

He calmly gestured to the foyer and its walls, walls of which that didn't have a lot of photos hanging from them quite yet. But they were good photos, paintings, and pictures nonetheless. "Your residents are still living their lives. Peacefully, which not a lot of demons can say that. And to the fullest that they can. It may not be Heaven by any means, but I'd say it's the closest thing they have down here in this damned pit."

He didn't have to hold her face, because he had all of her attention. Her eyes were wide and completely focused on his words, absorbing them as she gradually let herself relax. Still, he cupped her face with both of his hands anyway.

"We didn't need the angels for all of that before, and we certainly don't need them now." He brushed some hair away from her eyes, and he was all too happy to see the sadness gone from them. "We don't need them."

Charlie dipped her head one last time. And when she looked up at him again, it was with a watery exhausted half-smile that she hoped silently conveyed to him just how much she needed to hear those words.

Charlie slowly captured his lips, to which he responded immediately to. On her end, she felt a little weak, but that made Alastor all the more lively. He encouraged her to deepen it by gently taking her arms and personally placing them around his neck. After many seconds, she did so, holding onto him with whatever strength she lad left from this day.

That night, they laid in bed, holding each other, ready for sleep to take them. Charlie was downright exhausted, understandably so, and also very quiet again. When Alastor was done tending to the small wound on her throat, he noticed this. It wasn't an emotional silence like it was in the foyer, but a contemplative one, one that spoke volumes without speech being involved at all.

He just stroked her face, assuming that she was simply going over today's events. She surprised him when she suddenly said, "I have an idea."