As per usual, thanks to Snow-Punk for making this passable as a piece of literature! You're the REAL hero, my /

If there's any issues you guys notice, be sure you lemme know! (Just pls be nice or I will sob and roll on the floor and shriek.)br /

And please, do comment that you think! They help lemme know that people are still interested.

...

The day Azazel "left" had already been off to a bad start. Goodbyes were never Taker's strong suit. And when they were tearful partings, that was much worse.

He wasn't a man of many feelings. Lust was his chief emotion, without a doubt. Why else would he storm Hell in search of a harem of demon ladies? Of course, there was Wrath, as well. The very thing that carried him through the underworld. Countless deaths spent at the hands of spikes, endless foot cramps from kicking brawny skeleton demons apart, and the overwhelming oppression of the soul that hung in the air of Hell had only fueled his fury.

Love was a strange one. He had come to love his harem. Even if some didn't partake in the usual "Harem Activities". He felt Pride when they scarfed down his food three times a day, practically begging for more with every meal. Dread was prominent in the first few days back on Earth. Between juggling cooking, fixing whatever they broke, and dealing with the police, Taker's hands were all but full. Of course, he had settled into his new life by now. Nothing could faze him anymore.

And then Ollie came to live with him. His dear estranged nephew whom he had only seen on a few occasions when he was young, was living under his roof. And Taker felt fear.

Not for himself, of course. Fear for Ollie.

Believe it or not, Taker was definitely not all-knowing. Every outing he had with his brother and his sister-in-law when he came to visit on holidays was spent taking them to dinner. "It's Christmas, but I didn't know what to get you. I figured I would take you all out to dinner." He'd always parrot. He knew that their financial situation wasn't great, but his brother was trying. That's what he'd tell himself at least. He sent money on occasion to help out. It felt like the least he could do.

What he didn't know, was that behind the façade of being a nice family who were struggling financially, something darker lurked.

He had only found out when Ollie had gotten out of jail, what was really going on.

And then Taker felt true Wrath. Anger. Hatred. Not only was his sister-in-law a fiend, worse than any human he'd ever known, but his own brother was complicit in her vile actions.

Cold winter nights spent sleeping on the street, because returning home would mean a beating, or worse. Days spent causing so much money in property damage that it would make Cerberus look harmless instead of attending school.

Hours spent chained to a radiator, because the poor kid's mother didn't want to see him lingering around the house. Years spent begging his father to help him, and having his cries fall on deaf ears.

Ollie had been through a lot in his short life. More than most, at least. He was tough. Even still, Taker was worried about Ollie living under a roof with demons. Well, and an angel. They could be an armful, even on their best behavior.

So, color Taker surprised when Ollie not only managed to survive, but thrived in the Taker household. He'd spent hours with Justice working out, or chatting with Azazel about her research. He played catch with Cerberus, he managed to get along okay with Pandemonica and Lucifer relatively well, the only person he really had trouble with was Zdrada.

And Malina? Malina was the type to take what she wanted. Ollie never stood a chance.

Taker didn't expect them to be serious about each other, but that's not to say Taker wasn't secretly overjoyed about it. Ollie needed someone to love him. More than a regular family member could. And he needed someone to love. Really love.

Malina needed someone to get her out of her shell. She wasn't into the whole harem thing all that much. In her words, she left Hell for "the internet and vodka." And Ollie was definitely that person. For every hour he spent with the other members of the harem, he spent two with Malina, drinking, joking, and gaming with her. Over time, most of his time came to be spent in there with her.

And of course, just as Taker was beginning to stop worrying about Ollie so much, the Azazel incident happened.

The morning had started just like any other, of course. Wake up early, make pancakes for everyone, make Pandemonica's coffee as carefully as possible. The daily grind. And then Azazel had announced her departure. He had held it together for everyone, of course. He wasn't a crier, and seeing him tearing up wouldn't do much good for everyone's spirits anyhow. He was disappointed, of course, but it was Azazel's choice to make.

All things considered; it had gone alright. Modeus was a wreck, but she'd be fine after a few days. Everyone would be bummed for a little while, or at least the ones that cared would be. Ollie was pretty broken up about it, but he had Malina. He didn't need to worry about him. So when Ollie slinked out to get some fresh air, he was surprised to see Ollie sharing a cigarette with his least favorite person in the house. And not at each other's throats at that!

It came as such a shock since he knew how hot-headed his dear nephew could be. The kid had turned out to be a fine young man, but he had his mother's temper, for sure. And Zdrada loved to push people's buttons. But if nothing bad had happened yet, nothing was going to happen. So Taker had gone off to make Pan another coffee and think.

He thought he was wrong about Zdrada behaving when he heard something smash into the side of the house. Imagine his surprise when he rushed out to see Zdrada screaming for help, and his poor nephew slumped against the wall looking like the grave. And as if that weren't enough Azazel was back as well, lying unconscious just a few feet away from Ollie.

He called 911 as fast as humanly possible. When the paramedics had arrived on scene and proclaimed, "He's not breathing!" among the chaos, he had feared the worst.

Taker wasn't a crier. At least, at any other point in time. But looking at his nephew lying limp on the grass with his head split open, a mangled arm, and blood soaking every inch of him? It was a wonder he wasn't more of a mess.

Ironic as it was given that he lived with Lucifer herself, he had silently thanked the Lord when the paramedics resuscitated Ollie. But that didn't mean it was over. Malina clambered into the ambulance with the paramedics when they wheeled him to the hospital, shouting and threatening them with reckless abandon and screaming "That's my boyfriend, you motherfuckers! Let me in!"

Of course, it had been no secret to the rest of the harem that Malina was with Ollie. They spent all their free time together. The tattoo Ollie had gotten the night before certainly didn't do anything to hide how close they were. But seeing Malina in hysterics, sobbing and begging Ollie not to leave her had certainly made an impression of just how much she cared for him.

While Malina took it the hardest without doubt, the others were undoubtedly shaken up too. Hell, even Pandemonica looked upset and she was known as the Sadistic Demon for a reason. Justice and Judgement hugged each other close as they (or rather Judgement) watched on in horror, doing their best to reign in a distraught Cerberus and an even-more upset Modeus.

Zdrada did her best to hold Malina back while the paramedics did their thing. It was only Lucifer who seemed outwardly apathetic to the whole situation, but Taker knew better. She wasn't fond of showing emotion most of the time. At least not when she was upset. When she was angry, horny, or showing her love for him? Sure. Not so much when it came to showing sympathy, though.

Of course, they had dragged Azazel back into the house and laid her on the couch before piling in the van as fast as possible and following the ambulance to the hospital. Every long, suspenseful hour was spent in the waiting room, comforting each other as they wait for news about Ollie's condition. Every minute was spent knowing that the moment the doctor came in to give them an update it would be either bad news, or terrible news. Taker was on edge the moment the head surgeon had come to give them the update, bracing for the worst.

But in the end, Ollie had survived. It was a miracle, if ever such a thing existed.

The problem now, was that he was comatose. His condition was stable, for now. They had that much to be thankful for. But the doctors had no clue when he could wake up.

Everyone was disheartened at the news. But Malina was broken. He wasn't dead, sure... but comatose? Maybe permanently? She didn't shriek or cry. She didn't fly into hysterics. She was quiet. Maybe that was the worst part. She looked lost.

The car ride back was silent. There was no jeering, no bickering, not a word of comfort.

Azazel was awake when they had gotten back home. Malina didn't say a word to her, nor Zdrada for that matter. Malina had stormed past her and shut herself in her room. Zdrada had followed her up and could be heard asking for her sister to let her in. The sounds had gone quiet after a few minutes, meaning one of them had relented. Most other demons went back to their rooms, except for Judgement and Modeus who had sat on the couch to watch something. Those two were surprisingly close, despite being pretty dissimilar. They had muttered their hellos to Azazel, both bringing the lost angel into a hug before settling down under a blanket, Modeus drifting to sleep before the movie had even really started.

Justice and Taker had opted to ask Azazel what had happened, and why she had returned. She had begun to tear up, explaining in between cries that Heaven had rejected her. Apparently, she had been dyeing her hair for months before Heaven had picked her up for their little "chat". When they had found out, they checked her halo, finding a crack. It was then that Archangel Michael declared her too far fallen to be salvaged. Azazel emphasized that heavily. The fact that Michael used the word "salvaged" and not "saved". As though Azazel was some piece of machinery that needed fixing, instead of a person.

That was their reasoning for why they flung her back to Earth. The last she remembered was the ground closing in fast, and smashing into something.

She had asked to see Ollie, looking around as if he would be found walking in the door at any moment. When they explained that the situation and the state they found him in, a look of realization had dawned on her. She had landed on Ollie, plastering his broken body onto the siding of the house.

She started begging Taker desperately to drive her to the hospital, in hopes she might heal Ollie. "I've done it before! I can do it again!" She swore up and down. Lucifer had poked her head in from the kitchen however, and put those thoughts to rest.

"If you're truly fallen then Heaven will have stripped you of your powers, dear. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do but wait." She had shrugged, going back to finish making herself tea. Drained of all hope and pale as a ghost, Azazel had fallen to the couch.

"It's... this is all my fault." She had cried. She had tried begging for punishment. Some sort of recourse for nearly killing Ollie. They had refused. Tried telling her that it wasn't her fault. That it was a case of wrong time, wrong place.

In the end, Taker had sent Azazel to bed, sending Justice to stay with her through the night. Partly to make sure she was okay, and partly to make sure the angel-no-more wouldn't take any drastic measures.

The night had come and gone, and when the sun had risen they had all sat down and talked about what to do. Azazel was back. Only this time she was fated to fall for good. As for the Ollie situation, all there was to do was wait. It was out of their hands.

The discussion had taken most of the day, and great effort on their parts to convince Azazel that accepting the inevitable was better to denying it every time the subject came up. The transformation would be slow and painful if she fought it. The best thing she could do was accelerate it. It would be faster that way, and Lucifer had promised her that she'd do her best to find a job for Azazel to fit nicely into. Even create one if she had to. What she had come up with was perfect for Azazel, settling on Director of Research and Development. Azazel was elated, practically groveling at Lucifer's feet for ensuring she'd have a purpose.

Slowly but surely, they had settled into their routines. Malina never left her room unless it was to shower or use the bathroom. Every moment in her room was spent eating, gaming, and likely drinking herself blind all the while. Zdrada and Modeus came to keep her company every now and then, but when Azazel attempted it she was removed rather forcefully from the room. It had seemed that despite the fact that Ollie's condition was a freak accident, Malina couldn't help but resent Azazel for it.

She was emotional, and 95% liquor: Taker couldn't blame her.

The demons had spent a few days here and there doing their best to corrupt Azazel, teaching her the ways of sin. Most outings had been unsuccessful, with Azazel being too pure to commit unholy deeds. The resistance had lessened with time, however. Through her greying hair little nubs of horn could be spotted if one squinted and looked close enough.

Taker had called the hospital every day, asking for an update on Ollie. After the second week his hopes had begun to dwindle. Until one day, the phone rang before he had a chance to make his daily call.

The caller ID read: "Tri-State Med..."

…...

Ollie awoke to blinding lights. Not too far off from when he last fell asleep. Only this time, there was the shrill beeping of the ECG monitor. A reassurance that he was still among the living, for better or worse. The unparalleled pain in his skull wasn't as bad as he remembered, thankfully. Same for the stinging in his chest. As for the rest of him, he couldn't feel any kind of pain. He wasn't sure if he should take that as a good sign, or a bad one.

His chest rises and falls, in time with the rhythm of the ECG. Blinking the blindness from his eyes, and wincing at the small throb of pain in his skull. As the lights die down, his sight only confirms what he had already assumed. He was in the hospital. There's a sign, just outside his door on the wall across the hall. He squints, doing his best to read the bright green lettering.

'Coma Ward', the sign reads.

'What happened?', his weary mind ponders. For all the sleep he's had, he sure as shit doesn't feel well-rested.

'Wait, COMA WARD?!'

Looking around frantically, his heart rate spikes sharply. With it, the EKG begins to pick up its pace until it's beeping becomes rapid. Likely beckoned by the increasingly worsening vitals, a doctor rushes in. He stares for a moment, wide-eyed. "We've got a patient awake! Send two!" He barks down the hall, resulting in the sounds of footsteps echoing. With each second the footsteps increase in volume, until two nurses in blue scrubs rush in. The doctor approaches Ollie, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Wellager!" He snaps his fingers in front of Ollie, getting his attention. "Mr. Wellager. You're awake. You're okay." He attempts to soothe Ollie's panic, lest it get worse.

"I'm- I'm awake? -Where am I? What... what happened to me?" Ollie stutters, eyes resembling that of a madman. He can feel a bit more hair on his face than before. Not much, but enough that he can tell some time has passed.

"I need you to calm down, sir. I'll explain everything, okay? First off, I need to ask you a few questions." The doctor orders, patting him on the arm as he pulls a stool up next to his bed.

Ollie takes a few deep, gasping breaths. Steeling himself for whatever news might come, he clutches his eyes closed and nods to himself. "Okay. Okay."

"You okay now? Good." The doctor nods, reaching over to pluck a clipboard from the foot of the bed. "First off, how are you feeling?"

"Like hammered shit." Ollie groans, quietly.

"Ah, okay... Next, what do you remember?"

"Urgh, I remember being in my backyard, then... I guess things cut off there."

"Well, that matches up. Good." The doctor chirps, noting something down on the clipboard. "One more thing. What do you remember about yourself? Do you know your name? Age? Address?"

"Yeah, yeah. Grosvenor Drive. I'm uhh... Okay, things're a bit fuzzy. I'm er, 20? 22? My name is... Oliver Burnham Wellager."

"Alright. Well, you're 22, sir. As for everything else, that all matches with the info I have on record here." The doctor coughs into his arm, adjusting his facemask. He scans the clipboard once more, before turning his sights on Ollie.

"At about 12:32pm on October 23rd, 911 received an urgent call for medical attention at 540 Grosvenor Drive, which we have listed here as your legal residence." He casts a look to Ollie, the doctor's dull grey eyes boring into his own. The doctor sighs. "Upon arriving to the scene, you were found to have sustained severe blunt-force trauma to your chest, head, and your left arm. The injuries were life-threatening, and you had to be resuscitated on-scene."

"Wait- I died?" Ollie's asks, incredulous. Mouth agape, his skin flushes even further beyond his already bone-white complexion.

"Your heart stopped, but they were able to save you. From there you were transported here, to Tri-State Med Center. You were brought in for surgery immediately, and were operated on for a total of 18 hours. As I mentioned, you sustained severe trauma to the head, requiring us to put a plate in your skull. Miraculously, you managed to avoid sustaining a traumatic brain injury. On top of that, you suffered a punctured lung as a result of three broken ribs, with two puncturing your left lung." The doctor leans away, clearing his throat. "Luckily, you're expected to make a full recovery in time."

Not great news, not by a long shot. But considering the situation, he reckons he should be thankful he's not a vegetable, let alone still alive. "Oh..." He trails off, tone despondent. His gaze drifts away from the doctor, wandering around the room. With his vision less bleary now, he can make out the stack of 'Get-Well-Soon!" cards on his table, as well as a vase of bright peonies.

"There's... one thing I haven't mentioned yet, son." The doc starts, and when Ollie meets his gaze a few seconds later, he notices his eyes look sad. Sympathetic, maybe.

"What else? My arm?"

"Uh, correct. You suffered some... nerve damage in your left forearm. Nothing major, surprisingly. However... we couldn't save the entire appendage. Unfortunately, your ring finger was beyond saving. We were forced to amputate."

The news hits Ollie like a hundred-mile-per-hour Dutch oven. It's not the worst news he could have gotten, but... he's lost a finger? What... what hit him?

The doctor tenses up, as if expecting Ollie to begin thrashing about and throwing a fit. It never comes, however.

"...Can you call my family, please? Can I call my family?" He asks, voice hollow and flat. It's more of a plea, really.

"Just one problem, sir. Do you know how long you've been out?" The doctor asks, gently. Ollie just shakes his head. "It's November 14th."

In a weird way, Ollie is relieved. Truth be told, he'd expected the worst. To find out it's been a month. Or a year. In comparison, 22 days isn't so bad.

"Okay." He whispers. "Can I please call my family, now?"

"I would advise against it, sir. We can handle it for you. It's best you get some res-"

"Please." Ollie begs, meeting the doctor's kind gaze. "Please, let me talk to them."

The doctor looks conflicted, but his sympathy overrides his professionalism. Just this once.

Reaching onto the table besides Ollie, the doctor hands him a landline and punches in the phone number.

"Hello?" His uncle asks. God, was it a comfort to hear his voice. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

"Uncle..." Ollie mutters into the receiver, voice breaking bit by bit. He hears nothing for a moment, before he hears his uncle speak again. This time his voice is far more animated.

"Ollie! You're awake! I'm going to get everyone and head right over- are you feeling okay? How are you?!" Taker raves, perhaps just a tad more excited than he should be. But who could really blame him, given the circumstances?

Normally Ollie'd retort with something witty. Some smart-ass remark. Instead, all that comes out is "Not good. I'll see you guys soon?"

"Oh- yeah! I'll get everyone together and head over ASAP! Love you, kid! See you soon!"

"Bye, uncle." Ollie hears the sound of the phone clattering against something before the line goes dead.

Without a word, Ollie hands the phone back to the doctor, uttering a "Thank you." As he stares blankly at the sterile white sheets. He braces himself, for what comes next, sucking in a breath as he pulls his left arm from under the blanket.

True to the doctor's word, his arm bears an ugly, gnarled scar along the inside of his forearm. True to the doctor's word all but his ring finger stand tall. 'It could always be worse.' Ollie thinks to himself, albeit bitterly. A few minutes pass as Ollie stares at his hand analyzing each inch of scar tissue. It was a strange thing, losing a part of yourself. In the literal sense that is. It wasn't a lot of flesh he lost but he was sure he'd be missing it all the same. As the minutes wear on and the nurses leave the room to tend to their duties, the doctor stays beside Ollie. Color returns to his skin if only slightly. Maybe it's come with the time he's had to take inventory.

He's still got an unanswered question, but it'll have to wait.

"Hey, doc..." Ollie gets his attention. The doctor looks up from the tablet he'd been fiddling with for the past few minutes.

"Yes?"

"...Will I ever play guitar again?" A weak joke, but it was better than nothing.

The doctor chuckles, looking back to his tablet.

"You'll be just fine, young man."

…...

30 minutes pass. 24 of which are well-spent napping. Of course, when one just wakes up from a coma and has the news broken to them that they've nearly died it takes quite a toll on them. Ollie's physical injuries had all but mended at this point. With him being comatose, the only thing his body had to expend energy on was recovery. It'd still be some time before he was back to 100%, no doubt.

The scope of his mental recovery remained to be seen however. Waking up from a near-death experience was a strange thing. You spend a few moments in anguish, and you blink. Next thing you know you're in the Coma Ward of a hospital with less flesh than you fell asleep with. It was almost like anesthesia. The kind you'd get for a surgery. Blink and you'll miss it.

That said, when the body gives all it has to healing severe injury you don't really get any rest. When you wake up, IF you wake up, you wake up dead tired.

He was SO not ready to face his family in this state. He wanted to regardless. For both their sakes. He can't imagine how some of them must feel, especially Malina and his uncle. Poor bastards. First Azazel leaves, then he gets thrown into a coma for damn near a month? A true 24-karat run of shitty luck.

He was looking forward to getting some answers almost as much as he was looking forward to holding his loved ones.

Gaze affixed to his lap, he fails to notice the gaggle of sharp-dressed figures watching from the doorway. Plus one, hidden out of view behind the others.

"Thank Go-" "I thought you were dead, you bastard!" A set of two voices snap him from his trance. His neck creaks when he tilts his head upwards, nearly toppling over when Malina semi-tackles him. A small twinge of pain runs through his ribs, but it's nothing he can't handle. Stuck to him is a sobbing mess of a woman, face buried into his shoulder as she wails. The sound is heartbreaking and the situation becomes all the more bittersweet.

"I... I'm sorry, Mal." He whispers, wincing as he wraps his arms around her. As he feels her hot tears soak his bare shoulder his gaze meets that of his uncle.

"I'm glad you're awake, kiddo. I- we... all missed you." Taker approaches, joining in on the hug. The warm embrace is a welcome comfort but Ollie can't really bring himself to tear up like the others. His tears have all run dry.

"I'm glad to be awake." He says as he running a hand through Malina's hair subconsciously.

With a fury Ollie had yet to see from Malina she shoves Taker back a bit, seizing Ollie by the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. He reciprocates, yearning for nothing more than the affection of the one closest to him.

They eventually separate, panting for breath. "Don't you ever worry me like that again." Malina orders, resting her forehead against his.

"Wouldn't dream of it Mal." Ollie affirms. He comforts her by resting a hand on her cheek.

The moment is broken by another voice. A familiar one at that.

"I'm so sorry, Ollie! I'm so sorry!" Azazel sobs, muscling into the hug and cramming her face into his chest. "This is all my fault, and I'm so sorry!"

"What? Azzy, what're you doin' here?" He asks, in shock. Her tears and snot get all over his chest making him shift uncomfortably. "Mal, can you hand me the tissues?" He requests.

Already way ahead of him, she lifts Azazel's head and wipes the snot from his skin.

"It's fine, Azzy. It's alright. What do you mean this is your fault?"

"Heaven rejected me! They s-said I was too far gone, and I couldn't be saved!" She wails. "When they threw me back to Earth, I landed on you!"

"You... what?" Ollie mutters, confused. "Didn't they say you could be saved?"

"Once the effects of Falling begin to set in, it's already too late." Lucifer elaborates. "Azazel's been too far gone for quite a while."

"What? And nobody noticed?"

"Evidently so." Lucifer huffs.

Ollie lays back in his bed with a deep sigh, dumbfounded. "Fuckin' hell. I'm sorry, Azzy. I know how badly you wanted to stay an angel. What else's happened since I been gone?"

"Not much. It's been pretty quiet, dude. We've mostly been waiting to hear from the hospital." Justice stumbles over a stool on her way to the bedside, patting him on the leg. "Glad you're still kickin'. I missed my workout buddy!" She laughs.

"Heh, yeah. Probably gonna 'be a while 'fore I'm benching logs again, though."

"Take your time, kid. When you're all better I'm gonna' build you back twice as strong!"

A smattering of dread crosses Ollie's face. "Er- yeah. Sure."

"What's wrong dork? Scared I'll drop make you drop another log on yourself?" Zdrada laughs.

"Y'know... I think you'd like working out, you pale skinny bitch. Masochist that you are and all." Ollie shares a chuckle with her. "That is if Pan isn't whooping your ass hard enough."

"Call me that again and I'll keep you here." Pandemonica replies, sipping away at her coffee in the corner.

"Aww, threatening a harmless injured man?" Ollie coos. "You fuckin romantic, you." "You're pushing your luck, boy." She narrows her eyes.

"Nah, Mal will protect me." Ollie grins smugly.

Putting her hands up in surrender, Malina shakes her head. "Woah, don't put me in the middle of this."

"Fiiiine." Ollie mopes. "Please don't maim me, Pandemonica."

"Please do refrain from punishing the boy, Pandemonica. You might just kill him." Lucifer orders.

"...I'll give you a pass, since you've already had it hard enough." Pandemonica relents, sipping her coffee. She grimaces at the taste of the cheap hospital coffee.

"You can punish me if you want!" Modeus chirps in the background.

"Thanks. On the bright side, I got one less finger for you to break." Ollies laughs, garnering a collective grimace from Taker and the demons, sans Lucifer and Zdrada. "...What? I'll be fine, guys. Seriously, I'm not made out of wet paper. It'll be tough, but I ain't gonna let it get me down. And neither should you."

Silence fills the room. An uncomfortable, somber kind. Ollie groans.
"For fucks sake if someone doesn't say something to lighten the mood, I'm gonna slip back into a coma until you guys find a sense of humor."

Malina flicks him on the nose. "Not funny."

"Oh? One of you wanna' take a crack at it then? Cause so far, I'm the only one not being a complete downer."

Judgement clears her throat. "You were in a coma, Ollie. We didn't know if you were going to wake up. We were worried."

Modeus nods. "It's been quiet without you."

"I doubt the house is ever quiet with you guys around." He scoffs. "Guys, everything's fine, I promise. I been through plenty of hospital visits in my life, this is exactly the same. I'm awake, Azazel is back, what's to worry about?" He looks to Taker for help. "Uncle, back me up here."

"You heard him, ladies. It's going to be even more uncomfortable for him to recover if you treat him like he's broken." Taker agrees.

"Ye-" Ollie's interrupted by a growl, reminding him of the hollow pit in his stomach. "...Fuck. I needa' eat something ASAP." He demands.

"We'll go catch you some squirrels!" Cerberus excitedly chimes in, making a break for the door.

"Damn it!" Judgement shouts, running to give chase with Justice in tow.

"...I was thinking fast food."

"Fast food? Kid, you're coming home today. If you think I'm going to let your first meal in almost a month be fast food you couldn't be more wrong." Taker peers at Ollie over his glasses.

"Not that I don't appreciate it Unc... but I would eat brown slop at this point. Besides, aren't you supposed to eat small amounts if you haven't eaten in a while?"

"Then don't eat a lot." Taker shrugs.

Unable to think of a retort, Ollie merely shrugs. "Fuck it, I'm game." He sits up, throwing his arm over Malina's shoulders to balance himself as he stands. "What're you guys thinkin'?"

They mutter amongst themselves, with Zdrada, Malina and Modeus throwing their lot in for Mexican. Pandemonica, Lucifer and Taker hedge their bets on Italian, and Azazel and Ollie agree that a diner sounds good.

Of course, Ollie vetoes their votes on account of one thing. "I just woke up from a coma and I demand a good burger." Some complain, but for the most part they don't argue further than simply offering a groan. As the decision is made Judgement and Justice return with a chained Cerberus in tow.

"...Fuck, that was quick." Ollie chuckles.