It was your average Saturday morning at the Hazbin Hotel, well, what passes for average since its grand opening several weeks ago. The Hazbin gang hung out in the hotel lobby, with Niffty busily cleaning, Husk cracking open his first bottle of the day, Alastor drinking his morning coffee while reading the newspaper, and Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie chatting with the news channel droning away in the background.
"And in other news," Katie Killjoy said with her usual over-the-top smile, "It's that time of year again! Be on the lookout for new strains of Demon Flu, and be sure to visit your local clinic to get your Demon Flu vaccine! More details after the break!"
"Aw crap," Angel sighed. "I hate needles."
"That's ironic," Vaggie muttered.
"Has everyone gotten their shots already?" Charlie swiveled around in her chair.
A chorus of yups and yeahs came from the crowd. All but Angel and Alastor answered in the affirmative.
Charlie looked at the two disapprovingly, "I know you hate needles, Angie, but it's important you get your shot! You don't wanna get sick, do you?"
"No, but even if I did it's not like it would kill me. Demons get sick but we don't die from disease. Usually."
"Still! And you, Alastor, why haven't you gotten yours yet?"
Alastor took a sip of his java; dark, just the way he liked it.
Without bothering to look up, "Don't worry about me, my dear. I'll be fine, I'm too powerful of a demon to get sick!"
Vaggie shook her head, "You seriously buy into that theory that strength prevents you from getting ill? Ugh, I knew you were old-fashioned but seriously. Charlie's right, you should get your shot. I don't care if you get sick, but if you catch the Demon Flu and wind up bedridden then you won't be able to help us run the hotel!"
Alastor put his cup down, a slight look of annoyance creeping its way into his perpetual grin.
"And as I said, I am too powerful to get sick. The two of you seem to have everything in hand, anyhow."
"Yeah, but who's gonna protect us from demon attacks?" Angel exclaimed. "Ya know plenty of idiots out there are gonna target our hotel just 'cause they think it's funny or 'cause they're pissed off by our existence!"
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. It's a one-in-a-million chance, but should something happen to me I'm sure our dear princess here can handle herself. She is the daughter of Lucifer, after all."
Charlie blushed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, "Th- that may be so, but I'd still hate to see you get sick! Come on, please Alastor?"
Alastor let out an exaggerated sigh, "Very well then, if you insist, I'll go this afternoon."
"Thank you!" Charlie beamed.
The commercial for the latest Hellphone ended, and the news returned.
"Annnd, we're back! As we mentioned before, be on the lookout for new strains of the Hell Flu! Symptoms include a cough-"
Suddenly Alastor cleared his throat. Charlie turned to look at him worriedly.
"Fever, chills-"
Alastor gave a small, almost imperceptible shudder and pulled his coat tighter around himself.
"Weakness, fatigue, sneezing, a runny nose-"
Alastor sniffled and wiped his nose with a handkerchief that he drew from his breast pocket. Vaggie noticed the direction of Charlie's gaze and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Let's… turn this off, shall we?" Vaggie turned the TV off. Then, whispering so he couldn't hear, "I'm sure Alastor is fine. It's just your imagination."
"I… I hope so," Charlie whispered back.
Alastor pretended not to hear and continued reading his newspaper.
Hours later, Alastor was strolling down the streets of Pentagram City but for some reason the air was abnormally cold and he couldn't help but shiver. Hell had its ups and downs temperature-wise, depending on the season, just like Earth did. Ironically, it could even be quite cold some days, in spite of the common mortal preconception of Hell as a place of eternal fire and brimstone. Still, it was spring, it shouldn't be this cold. He would have just chalked it up to strange weather if it weren't for the fact that others around him were dressed much more lightly and he was also coughing and occasionally sneezing.
Dammit, hay fever? No, Alastor didn't have any allergies and besides Pentagram City, like most cities, hardly had any plantlife. He couldn't have caught the Demon Flu, could he? No, impossible! He was too powerful for that! Besides, who would he have caught it from? He hardly ever interacted with others! Alastor tried in vain to push these thoughts out of his mind as he again shuddered and pulled his coat tighter around himself.
By mid-afternoon, there was no longer any denying that he had the Demon Flu. Alastor was breathing heavily despite having taken longer strolls in the past, he was sweating and yet somehow simultaneously shaking uncontrollably. He had a headache, a cough, and his nose refused to stop running. It was too late to get a vaccine now. Alastor decided to turn around and head back to the hotel, even though he hadn't finished his usual route around the neighborhood. With luck, nobody would notice how sick he was.
But fortune did not favor Alastor, as he approached the hotel he noticed a small group of demons wearing mischievous grins surrounding the front door. Charlie was at the center of it all, and she appeared to be struggling to talk the demons down. As he drew nearer, he could hear their voices.
"This dumb bitch really thinks she can reform us sinners with her fancy-schmancy hotel? Pssh, hey boys, let's show her what we think of her and her dumb hotel!"
The demons were clutching weapons in their hands: knives of various sizes, a chain, a lead pipe, and even a cherry bomb.
"Now, now, there's no need for violence…" Charlie motioned with her hands, hoping to de-escalate the situation before it turned into a true conflict.
Vaggie stood behind Charlie, manifesting her spear in preparation for a fight.
"Oh for pity's sake…" Alastor sighed as he approached the ragtag group.
He was tired, he felt like shit, and now he had to deal with this?
"Oh crap, is that the Radio Demon?" one of the smaller demons whimpered, voice cracking.
"Yes indeed-y," Alastor flashed them his brightest grin. "And that little darling is the proprietress of the hotel I'm staying at. You know, the one you pathetic excuses for demons are currently threatening?"
One of the demons gulped, lowering his weapon.
"Alastor!" Charlie called to him cheerfully.
"Um, don't worry about all this. I've got it under control! No need for anybody to get hurt!"
"Is that so?" Alastor cocked his head to the side, examining the demons. "And what say you? Do we have a problem?"
A few of them started backing away, but one of them, presumably the leader, took a step forward.
"Come on, don't be such a pussy!" the leader yelled at the other demons. "What, you guys are seriously afraid of this old-timey faggot? Look at him, he doesn't look that tough to me!"
"B- but…" one of the underlings stuttered.
The leader turned to Alastor, "You're staying at this piece of shit hotel? Ha! I bet you're one of those namby-pambies that think you can redeem yourself and get into Heaven by staying in this hotel! Come on guys, let's get him!"
Alastor snapped his fingers, and immediately tentacles arose from the shadows to strangle each of the demons. Their pathetic screams were music to his ears. He watched gleefully as they were each squashed like the bugs that they were, their blood and viscera spilling onto the ground. Alastor's features gradually became more demonic as he clenched his fist, spilling blood, finishing the little twerps off.
"Ah, that's better," Alastor took out his handkerchief and wiped some of the stray blood that had spilled onto his suit jacket and cheek.
In his eagerness to finish the demons off as quickly as possible (in this state, he couldn't risk expending too much energy) he failed to notice that one of the demons, the leader, had managed to get away. He came up from behind and stabbed Alastor with an angelic weapon before either Charlie or Vaggie could warn him.
Huh. Alastor thought. When did they get that?
The stab, which was already painful, was followed by a sharp, burning sensation. It took all of Alastor's willpower not to cry out and to retain his usual sharp-toothed smile. He turned his head 360 degrees to glare at the little fucker. What the demon saw caused the blood to drain from his face. A red glow emanated from Alastor, and once again his features took on a much more monstrous form. His antlers grew and his irises shrank into pitch black pits.
"JuSt WhAt WaS tHaT sUpPoSeD tO aCcOmPLish?" Alastor rasped.
The leader let out a small squeak and nearly soiled himself. He turned to run but Alastor quickly grabbed him with his long claws, now resembling talons, and tore the hapless demon to shreds. Charlie covered her eyes as Vaggie looked on in horror. The demon's shrieks ceased abruptly and there was naught left but a small pile of blood and goo. Alastor slowly returned to his normal form. He turned to face Charlie with a more relaxed smile, but there were now dark circles under his eyes.
"Well! That was bracing!" he joked, trying to ease the tension.
"Y- yeah... '' Charlie chuckled nervously. That was when she noticed how pale (or paler) Alastor looked, and how he was violently trembling. "Umm, Alastor?"
"Yes, my dear?" It took all the strength he had to just to remain composed.
"Are you alright? You look a little…"
"Never better! Come, let's go in!"
Alastor couldn't remember the last time he felt this drained. Using his abilities, particularly in showy displays such as that, always left him feeling a bit tired and hungry. But this was different, Alastor felt as though he might collapse at any minute. He grimaced as he pulled the angelic spear out of his abdomen. Thankfully it wasn't a fatal wound, but then again, it would take a lot more than that to kill a demon of his caliber. Still, that didn't mean it stung like a bitch. He tossed the weapon to the side and hurried through the hotel's front door.
Once inside, he let out a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. He allowed himself to relax a little; big mistake. The adrenaline rush receding, Alastor felt what little strength he had left ebbing away. His legs turned to jelly as a wave of dizziness and exhaustion washed over him. He let out an almost inaudible gasp as he pitched forward, the world around him carouseling and going dark.
"Huh?" Charlie turned around. "Alastor!"
She ran forward to catch him as the others, namely Angel, Vaggie, and Husk, watched with both horrified and astonished expressions.
"Are you okay?!" she managed to catch him before he hit the ground.
On his knees and panting like he'd just run a marathon, Alastor forced a smile, "Y- yes my dear… Just… a tad tired from all that exertion."
Dammit, he couldn't allow himself to be seen like this! What would happen to his credibility? He was a powerful Overlord of Hell! Alastor couldn't allow others to see him in such a weakened state! Besides, he loathed having to accept help and being pitied. Charlie got a funny look on her face, then suddenly reached out and placed a hand on Alastor's forehead. Alastor flinched and tried to pull away.
"Al, you're burning up!" she gasped. "Don't tell me… do you have the Demon Flu?"
"I don't have the-" but as if life wanted to mock him more, Alastor devolved into a coughing fit. "I… I'm not sick…" he said weakly.
For the first time since he'd arrived, Charlie and the others saw Alastor's smile falter. Charlie noticed his eyelids begin to droop, and she carefully led Alastor to his feet.
"Can you walk? We have to get you back to your room so you can rest."
"I- I don't need…"
"Oh come on!" Angel Dust interrupted. "You obviously need help! Quit being so stubborn and let us help you!"
Angel Dust took Alastor's other arm.
The two managed to drag him to the elevator, where Angel used one of his many arms to press the button for the sixth floor.
"Why in the Nine Circles do you have to have a room on the sixth floor?" Angel grumbled.
"...It has the best view," Alastor said quietly.
His vision was blurring and it was getting hard to think. Alastor felt as though his head were stuffed with cotton. Who knew even demons could get sick? Who knew Overlords could get sick? Not once had Alastor ever caught the flu or any kind of cold while in Hell. That is, not until now. Finally the trio arrived at the sixth floor and brought Alastor to his room. Charlie had a master key for every hotel room, and she used it to unlock his door. She and Angel gently deposited Alastor on his bed, removing his bloodstained jacket and wrapping his wound with some spare gauze. It would heal on its own. Probably.
Alastor hated being touched, but he was too tired and too out of it to argue. Charlie pulled back the sheets and helped him lay down, then tucked him in while Angel went to fetch a thermometer and other supplies.
"You just take it easy," Charlie smiled, giving him a tentative pat on the head.
"D- don't touch me…" Alastor coughed and then sniffled.
Charlie merely smiled back at him. In a way, he was almost… cute? Al reminded her a bit of a stubborn child when he was sick. Angel returned and the two took Alastor's temperature. 101.6. Bad, but it could be worse. Angel took a wet washcloth and placed it on Alastor's forehead. Alastor couldn't help but let out a tiny sigh of relief at the cool washcloth. At the same time, he was still trembling a little bit and slightly cold, but the blankets helped to make him feel better. He slowly warmed up. It was next to impossible for him now to stay awake. Try as he might, his eyelids closed of their own volition and soon he succumbed to the siren call of sleep.
One of the few times he didn't smile was when he was asleep. After all, how does one consciously control their muscles while asleep? It was strange and a bit unsettling for Charlie and Angel Dust to see Alastor without a smile on his face. For his sake, they silently agreed not to mention it. It would drive him nuts if he knew anyone had seen him "naked". At the same time, Alastor almost looked peaceful while asleep. Charlie thought for a moment she could see the man behind the demon, the human soul that resided within Alastor, the person he was when he was alive. Charlie smiled and gave Al one last pat on the head before leaving the room. Angel followed quickly behind her.
"Goodnight Al," Charlie whispered sweetly as she turned off the lights.
"Yeah," Angel smirked. "Goodnight, ya Strawberry Pimp."