A/N: Prompts by Knigthfire AND Spookydazechaos
Al notices a pure white feather on one of Husk's wings, and suddenly finds himself wondering (in horror, perhaps), if redemption is a possibility after all.
My friend knightfire and i both would like to see a story with Al worrying about the possibility of Husk getting redeemed and leaving hell

Joint prompt! Cute~

This chapter happens sometime during their last couple of months at the hotel, and may or may not have been Alastor's cue to go "I suppose we're about done here".

The morning had started like any other. Alastor had woken up and gotten himself ready for the day. He had dropped by Charlie's office to see if she needed anything specific done today, and then had gone to the buffet room for breakfast while planning out his schedule. Afterwards he had patrolled the hallways for a while and had then checked on a few patrons who needed daily supervision to stay on the path towards their supposed redemption. Finally he had just made his way to the garden to see if there was anything in the greenhouse that he'd like to see on his dinner plate today, when a shadow minion appeared to inform him that Husker had situated himself at the front desk.

Smiling widely to himself, Alastor ditched the vegetables and appeared by his sheik's side.

"Good morning, my dear!" Alastor said cheerfully, pulled his fluffy cat into an embrace, and kissed the tip of his nose. Husker was purring quietly by the time Alastor leaned back, and generally looked happy today. That had been the trend lately, and Alastor couldn't be more pleased. "I see you're content today?"

Husker had a smile on his lips and his pupils were dilated as he looked at Alastor. "Very. It's almost the weekend and so far it's been nice and quiet here for the entire week. Just gotta last one more fucking day. You're taking a day off as well, right?"

The tone of Husker's voice suggested that he had something in mind. Alastor's interest was immediately piqued. "That is correct."

"Then how about you preen my wings tonight, and we go flying tomorrow?"

Words couldn't describe how excited Alastor got at the suggestion. Flying with Husker was a rare treat, and one he wouldn't pass in a million years. He loved preening Husker's wings as well, because while touching his wings was generally allowed, it was still one of the few things that was off the table sometimes, and Husker usually got uncomfortable if the petting lasted too long even when it was allowed. Preening meant guaranteed quality time with the gorgeous feathers.

"Certainly! That sounds like a wonderful idea that I will happily anticipate. I shall see you tonight, then."

Husker nodded, looking pleased, and Alastor released his hold on him. Husker recognized a dismissal when he saw one, and turned his back to Alastor to begin working.

That was when Alastor's world came to a screeching halt.

In the middle of the plumage of Husker's left wing was a white feather.

A white feather.

Husker didn't have white feathers. The tips of his tail feathers were white, yes, but that was it; no actual fully white feathers. This wasn't normal.

The contrast between the intruder and the normal red and black feathers surrounding it was so stark that the feather looked like it was glowing in its pure, bright, alien whiteness.

Hold on.

A pure, glowing white feather.

Like an angel's feather.

Alastor's heart dropped and his lungs emptied of air. He felt dizzy and there was a ringing in his ears.

The implication behind an angel's feather when they resided in a hotel that was supposed to redeem sinners…

Husker had been so happy lately…

Content with his afterlife and more at peace with himself than Alastor had ever witnessed in their decades of friendship…

So untroubled that Alastor couldn't remember the last time he had drunk himself into a real stupor…

What if…

What if…

No. It was ludicrous.

They had been at the hotel for nearly two years now and nobody had gotten redeemed. Yes, some sinners had had a lot of personal growth, and some had cut off their bad habits, but nobody had ascended to Heaven.

It wasn't possible.

...Right?

Alastor stared at the white feather, and for the first time since he came here felt his certainty crack.

What if it was possible?

What if Husker turned out to be the person who defied the odds, who broke the status quo, who… ascended…

No.

No, Husker couldn't do that. He wasn't allowed to. He would not leave Alastor and go to Heaven. That wasn't acceptable.

But what if that was happening? He couldn't afford to dismiss the possibility. Not when it could potentially mean losing Husker due to inaction.

If it was happening, how was Alastor supposed to stop it?

He needed to stop it.

But how?

...If Husker's happiness was what was causing him to find peace, and said peace was allowing him to ascend…

Alastor struggled to keep his smile up as he wrestled with his urge, want, desire to make his Husker as happy as he possibly could, and his need, must, necessity to keep him by his side forever. He had never thought those two needs would clash – in fact he had always considered them mutually inclusive – but right then they were clashing badly and he was floundering.

How was he supposed to choose between his own happiness and Husker's? Especially when Husker's happiness was essential to his own?

But to make him stay…

Could he find a balance where Husker was happy but not too happy? Not happy enough to go to Heaven?

Could he?

He could and would gleefully annoy Husker on purpose for the fun of it. He could and would rile him up to a certain extent just to make him livelier at times. He most certainly did things Husker didn't like all the time, because as long as it didn't directly involve him Husker didn't get to tell him what to do. But to actively make Husker unhappy? Purposefully make him feel bad? Deliberately sap away any amount of joy from his afterlife? Ruthlessly keep him from achieving maximum happiness at all times?

He couldn't. He simply couldn't to that. His Husker should always be as happy as possible at the given moment.

But then what-

"Al?"

Alastor startled back into the reality outside of his own head, and saw Husker looking over his shoulder at him. He quickly fixed his smile back to a presentable state, but the frown that appeared on Husker's face as he turned around was clear indication that his slip had been noticed.

"Is something wrong?" Husker asked, worried orange eyes searching Alastor's face for clues.

"Ah, that is… up for debate yet", Alastor answered, knowing better than to outright lie when Husker had caught him red handed. He cleared his throat, and forcefully pushed his admittedly slightly panicked thoughts from earlier back for now.

With Husker facing him, he could no longer see the terrifying white feather.

...On that note, did Husker…?

"By the way, I saw an anomaly in your plumage just now", Alastor said, keeping his voice light. "Have you noticed it yourself?"

Husker gave him a suspicious look, quite clearly thinking he was changing the subject, but undecided on whether to run with it or not. Poor dear had no idea.

"...You're gonna have to elaborate", Husker finally said, and crossed his arms. His tail was twitching, and Alastor knew it was allowed to openly do that just so Alastor would know he was, as Husker put it, 'on thin fucking ice'. Duly noted.

"A white feather", Alastor said, and did his very best to keep a neutral face. And to keep his brain carefully focused on Husker's face and not let his thoughts wander.

Husker looked at him blankly for a moment, and then scoffed. "That's all? Tell me something I don't fucking know. You get to pluck it tonight, problem solved."

That was way more blasé a reaction than Alastor had expected and it threw him for a loop. "Pardon moi?"

Husker raised his eyebrows. "White feathers happen sometimes. I don't fucking know if it's Hell's way to remind me that I'm an old bastard or if it's my wings getting confused about which of my colouration to use for shit, but it's certainly not fucking news. I pluck 'em off when I notice 'em and move on."

...It was normal. It had presumably happened at times before they came to the hotel. Husker wasn't shocked or concerned. He wasn't ascending to Heaven. Redemption wasn't possible.

It was normal.

Alastor laughed, threw an arm around Husker's shoulders, and squeezed him tightly. "Is that so? I can most certainly pluck it for you! I think I'll keep it, even. It's not nearly as exquisite as your regular feathers, but it's beautiful in its own right."

Husk's ears turned slightly back and his shoulders hunched, yet a little smile rose on his lips. "Shut the fuck up, you mushy jackass."

Husker wasn't going to leave him.

"Never."