Author's Note: This took far too long to do... I honestly wasn't completely sure if I would be continuing this, but I thought I'd add another chapter at least.
-/-
"Really!?"
Alastor was surprised the room around them wasn't on fire with how brightly she beamed. Her arms folded and clamped tightly as hands shook under her chin like a spring about to launch. Smile and eyes so big it threatened to overtake her face. She was practically bouncing in anticipation.
This would be the second time asking for clarification after walking through the front door. "Unmistakably."
The spring sprung. Charlie jumped and hollered, punching the air. The former demon nearly laughed as she did a little dance. Skipping back towards him, she wrapped him in another hug. "Thank youuu! I really needed to hear that."
Even with the success of reforming a demon, he the dreaded Radio Demon no less, and proving without a shadow of a doubt that the damned can move on to Heaven, it seemed familial support was still lacking. Filing away this new—though not unexpected—information, Alastor resolved to bring it up with her. But not now, now was the time for pleasantries.
Charlie righted herself. "Right, I just remembered, you caught me at a bit of a bad time. Got a lot of paperwork and things to fill out. Very important boss-job-related things. You know, boring stuff that needs to be done. You're free to roam the rest of the hotel. Gotta-go-bye."
The reformed demon watched Hell's princess disappear around a bend and smirked. She was totally up to something. Charlie had never been good at lying to friends and loved ones and it painfully showed. He would let her have her fun and wait for what she had in store.
-/-
A chair creaked from a demon shifting his weight. He did not seem particularly interested in the warm meal or cold drink before him, neither did the other demon he shared the table with. Clothes ruffled as one fished for something in their coat.
With a move of practiced casualty, one of them pulled from their pocket a small, innocent seeming bag. Both reached under the table, one to give, the other to take.
A third snatched it away.
A threatening snarl escaped his scaled lips as their chairs clattered. He had waited too long to get his package only for some schmuck to swipe it like an opportunistic, amateur thief. The hotel manager tossing him out would be worth it for the gratification of caving-in some teeth. His "friend" shared that sentiment, cracking their knuckles.
Whatever bravado they had was sapped the instant they recognized the "thief."
Alastor flashed them a more genuine smile, tucking the bag into his inner breast pocket. "Don't mind me gentlemen, just making sure no funny business happens on Hotel grounds. I'm sure you understand."
The two demons cautiously returned to their meals, dumbly fumbling to right their chairs. Alastor saw them vaguely relax when he was a sufficient distance away from them.
The Hotel was more crowded than he remembered. Emptiness had been the norm, aside from hosting a handful of demons once in a while who never really stuck around. Now Demons milled about, idly chatting, enjoying a meal or drink, or both. There was still a fair amount of empty seats and space, but the change was still noticeable.
Another notable thing was after that little stunt everyone started giving him a wide berth. Finally acknowledging his existence. Hushed whispers were exchanged.
"I thought we were done with him?"
"Maybe he's just visiting?"
"Who would willingly visit Hell?"
"Masochists?"
"Does that mean we'll have to deal with him now?"
"I just live here, Frank."
Alastor gave them little heed. Amusement in regard to their thoughts was the only hook that kept him listening.
"What if what happened to him was just a fluke?"
That gave him pause. A kernel of doubt had always been buried deep in Alastor since his ascension, creating chinks in his finely crafted armor. Now a random arrow hit an unseen target. Flashes of unintended consequences raced in his mind, plastered on headlines and narrated by a certain infuriating newscaster.
Falsification of redemption!
Publicity stunt to trick demons into joining!
Hell's princess a fraud!
All because he wished to see and help his friends.
The smallest bead of sweat ran down his cheek. Inner turmoil was masked expertly by confident body language—nothing happening here, move along. To the few who knew him better they would have noticed his movements were the slightest bit robotic.
He moved for the employee lounge, leaving the murmuring demonic crowd behind. The door gently swung open and closed. Alastor leaned against it, taking labored breaths to ease his mind. He was overthinking things; being here was not a mistake.
If the reformed demon's return did prophesies the end of the hotel—well, then he would just have to fix that little wrinkle.
Alastor would make sure of it.
Straightening his coat, he gave a final deep breath. A smile graced his lips once more. He took in the lobby's interior. Same gothic furniture, same elegant fireplace, same rug, same large stain on the rug that acted as Niffty's long time nemesis, still defiantly persisting. He tipped his metaphorical hat to it, not many a stain would last to her gifted cleaning skills. A few more paintings and pictures, but nothing new.
Someone leaning on the couch piqued his interest. Their back was turned to him.
His smile quickly turned mischievous. Casually, he ambled across the lobby, eyes locked onto a familiar figure whose long grey hair reached past their knees. His shoes barely made a sound on the hardwood floor. He raised his hand and a loud slap echoed between them.
The amusing squawk and jump made all that came next worth it. Impossible grace mixed with fury was the demonette, hair billowing from her spin. His smile never faltered when it met the murderous scowl and the knife pointed at his neck.
Her growl stalled, surprised as she took in her offending assailant. She settled on an annoyed frown, but he could have sworn a spark of fondness flickered in her eyes. Must have been seeing things.
"Didn't think I'd ever see you again. Heaven finally got fed up with you?"
"Why I never, I was the picture perfect tenant," the former demon said in mock offense. Gently, he pushed the knife away from his jugular. It made a small, shrill scrape between his cane and her blade.
"Sure, is that how they greet each other up there?"
"I'd never do something like that to someone I don't know. At least nowadays." He continued in a stage whisper fashion, "That and if the reaction isn't half as amusing."
"Har har. Try that again and I might not hesitate."
"My dear, reformed or not, I make no promises."
A second, sudden slap filled the air. Alastor's smile, like the rest of him, stiffened, blood rushing to his cheeks. The gloved hand on his posterior rose to caress his back, and another arm draped over his shoulders as a spider demon leaned against him. "I was wondering if I'd ever see that rump of yours again."
Arms crossed and hip cocked, a smirk played on Vaggie's lips. How does it feel?
His eyes narrowed. No. Promises.
"Angel Dust, always a pleasure," he said, not glancing away from the moth demonette.
"Pleasures all mine. So, did he spill on how he got outed?"
"Nope. Not yet anyway."
"Digressing from this absolute horrid showing of a lack in faith. Still the manager of the hotel I imagine? How are things?"
"Oh the usual," Vaggie said, with a shrug of shoulders and roll of eyes, "demons getting drunk here, breaking up fights there, responding with threats of violence from one lecherous comment too many, and then subsequent reignition of said fights. It's like I'm being punished or something."
"Considering where we currently stand, that's to be expected. Besides, this place would be lost without you, my dear."
"Speaking of 'lost'." Dexterous hands slipped in and out of Alastor's coat. "Boop!"
Angel held the dangling bag in front of him. "Oooo, looks like our reformed fiend really has lost his way. Didn't think you could even get contraband up there."
Alastor gently shrugged the spider-demon off himself, if at least to retain some personal space. "Ha ha, hardly. I was always above the influence of those short-term escapements before my reformation. I swiped that from two miscreants attempting to tarnish this hotel's good name. The nerve."
Angel felt rather than saw the bag being snatched from his fingers. "Wha?"
Spanish expletives carried on harsh, whispered growls flowed from the grey demonette. The former demon expected the bag to spontaneously combust from the intense glare leveled at it. When it didn't it's defiance was rewarded with a quick trip to the fireplace.
"Hey! I was going to personally, uh, inspect that later!"
Alastor blinked, an eyebrow quirked. "I'm sensing this is more than just a simple grudge against drugs to elicit immolating a tiny, innocent packet like that, I imagine?"
Vaggie didn't say anything immediately, content to watch the packet burn. "Ever since your ascension we've steadily been getting more clientele, you've definitely noticed that by now. A bunch of damned old and new started showing up, interested in how they could leave this infernal place or what the 'secret' was. We've actually been getting enough income not just to keep this place standing on its own two feet, but also renovating it a bit."
"Yes, those wind-chimes were a lovely addition."
She gave a halfhearted huff and a brief ghost of a smile. "It's become clear to me that some came because they were tired of Hell and willing to try change. Most however, when they learned that there aren't any shortcuts, just stay for the roof over their heads and fake good behavior. Charlie's allowed this in the hopes that their acting would become the genuine article. The fact I keep finding these malitos packets are not helping me believe that. Part of me…" a sigh escaped her lips, "part of me just wonders if we're actually getting anywhere or if you were just a stroke of luck."
"Well, nobody claimed this redemption gig to be a waltz in the roses. I mean, take myself for example, all the tears and screams and heartbreak we shared. Quite the mischievous scamp I was!"
The stink eye Vaggie sent his way made Alastor internally flinch. Her hand reached for a currently nonexistent knife. Mayhaps he had crossed a still tender boundary, he thought, the grip on his cane tightening. Angel Dust subtly and wisely inched away from the danger zone.
As quickly as the raging fire came it dissipated, her features softening. She had caught the slightest twitch of his ever-present smile. "Don't." The usually fierce demonette hugged herself. "Just. Don't. Joke about that."
Accidentally torching a more fragile than perceived bridge had not been on Alastor's todo list. He tugged at his shirt collar, racking his brain for something witty or charming to disarm the tension until he remembered who he was dealing with. Honest sincerity seemed the better option. Dancing around subjects like this with her tended to aggravate her further, especially in this mood.
"I-"
"Hello!"
Vaggie briefly tensed when a pair of arms wrapped around her in an embrace. Her rigid posture melted when she recognized the bubbly voice; she gave way to a tiny smile on her lips. Behind her Charlie beamed at Alastor and winked.
The former Radio Demon let out a breath and shot her a nod. The ever sunny princess of Hell suddenly showing up worked too.
"Sorry to interrupt, I just need these two for, uh, managing some paperwork? Yeah, that's it! But it's great to see you all catching up."
"Wait wait wait, two as in 'plural' as in 'also me'?" Angel sputtered, pointing a pink gloved finger at himself.
"Yup!"
"But my break just started!"
Without missing a beat, the princess of hell gripped his wrist and started leading Vaggie and him away. "Don't worry, it won't take too long and who knows, you may have fun."
"Sure, paperwork, fun. Those words always work in a sentence." Angel Dust pouted, before giving a teasing smirk over his shoulder. "You can give me a spank anytime, Al."
'Al' replied back with light-hearted sarcasm, "I'll keep that in mind."
"Isn't this great?!" Charlie whispered.
"Yep, like how rehabs need patients who relapse," was the reply Alastor heard from Vaggie as the door closed behind the trio.
The former demon jotted down another mental note, a slow realization that not everything was hunky-dory in their little group as he had remembered. Still, he had a few more friends to check up on.
-/-
The hotel's bar was emptied of patrons when Alastor approached. The bar-tending black, card-motif cat was the only soul present. His back was to him as he cleaned a glass cup. Funny how a room somewhat full of demons could quietly disappear. He couldn't have been socializing that long? Absently, he chalked it up to it being near closing time, some heading to bed to process what they saw and others just departing for the day. Other things had to be attended to.
Alastor slid onto a cushioned stool, his mic-cane left to lean against the bar beside him. The bartender stubbornly continued polishing. His ear pointed in the reformed demon's direction was the only tell that he heard him. Chin resting on his hand, Alastor patiently waited for his presence to be acknowledged.
Their stalemate ended when the cat's shoulders sagged with a sigh. Putting down the cleaned cup to grab a near empty bottle, he downed it. He didn't even bother to turn around. "What'd'ya want?"
"A little alcohol on the rocks. Shaken, but not stirred. Handle it ruff and let it breathe until the waters settle and the taste is just right."
Husk's ear twitched. "...If your expecting me to decipher that shit, you've got ano-"
The black cat froze. Red wings ruffled. He looked at Alastor, his expression priceless.
Alastor looked back.
He glared down at the bottom of the bottle through the nozzle, expecting answers.
Alastor's smile softened.
Husk glanced back at the reformed demon, his trademark frown returning. "Am I that drunk already?"
"When aren't you?"
Eyes locked on each other, the black cat chucked the empty bottle to the side. Light glinted off glass as it sailed, expertly landing in an out of the way bin and shattering with the rest inside. Without missing a beat, another bottle was in his hand like it was meant to be there. A clawed thumb easily flicked off the cap.
"You'a hallucination?"
"Hm, an interesting proposition. Maybe I am. Maybe this whole hotel is a hallucination brought forth by a mind suffering from one weeks worth of a bender too many." Alastor's smile was teasing. "Or maybe I'm as real as real gets."
Husk's face was as dead as a pan could be. "Took them long enough to kick you out."
"Why does everyone say that? Do you all think so little of me that I couldn't behave."
"Yes, we had a bettin' pool a little whiles' after our 'tearful goodbyes.' Charlie was the only one who thought you'd be there indefinitely."
It was Alastor's turn to blink. "What wonderful expectations, I'm honored to have known you all."
The sharp gasp and the sound of skittering was the reformed demon's only warning. A red blur zipped across the room, ducking under tables and chairs if need be. It clambered onto an adjacent stool before launching itself off it, leaving the top spinning. The resulting impact left Alastor grasping for his cane to keep from falling over.
A large, single eye stared up at him.
"Ah, Nifty my dear, it's been too long! Been behaving yourself I hope. Did you abduct any men while I was gone?"
"Only five!"
"Atta girl, keep those numbers low and someday they'll be none!"
As the short girl beamed, Alastor's eyes locked on Husk with a slightly raised eyebrow. Are they fine?
The cat replied by taking a swig of beer and making a lazy hand gesture: more-or-less.
The short demonette tightened her hug. "I knew you'd come back one day! What offense got you kicked out?"
Alastor's smile was dangerously close to being more of a straight line. "You too, huh? Well, sorry to rain on your collective parades, but my grand return was all me. No tricks, no offenses, just a hop, skip, a majestic plummet, and here I am."
Alcohol spewed from the bartending demon's furred lips. The bottle almost slipped from his grip. Niffy gasped, skittering off to clean the oncoming mess before it could dare stain the flooring.
Husk hacked and coughed, pounding his chest in an effort to regurgitate any burning liquid that went down the wrong pipe. His wings flapped and twitched. A brief image of a cat passing a hairball flashed in Alastor's mind.
Husk blinked. "You chose to come back here?" He gave one last hearty cough. "That bad up there?"
"No, quite the opposite in fact. The people are pleasant, the sights are varied, plenty of things to do, and fun to be had. A small part of me didn't want to make my leave and just stay. If I may be so bold, I was quite the talk of a certain club-"
"Why?" The sheer disbelief in Husk's voice gave Alastor pause. "Why would you intentionally come back to this shitty landfill of a fucked up city?"
"Simple really, I-"
A very loud, very obnoxious sound blasted through one of Alastor's ears and out the other. What felt like paper tickled his lobe. Ever so slowly, he turned to face whoever had the audacity to do such a thing, his smile unamused.
Charlie had a face of well-crafted innocence as a party pipe dangled from her black lips, its paper tube having retreated back. She broke into a wide grin. "Surprise!"
"Second time you've interrupted me, my dear. I dare say this is becoming a habit."
"Maybe." Her arm hooked around the former demon's, practically dragging him. "Come on you two! We're having an impromptu party!"
-/-
"I see you finished your important 'boss-job-related things,' as you so elegantly put it, and with such impeccable timing. You truly are a wonder, my dear." Alastor said with a straight face, a party hat atop his dark red hair at a slight slant.
The Hazbin crew was gathered around him at one of the bar's round tables. A pre-made cake set in the middle with letters spelt in icing: 'Welcome Back,'. Going by the blank space and lone comma, and having seen it in bakery windows, he was certain 'Bastard' had been scraped off.
Charlie stood, blowing the party pipe once more. "Welcome back to Hell! Well, in most contexts that wouldn't be a good thing, or would be for others, but we're happy to have you back!"
Angel leaned forward, tenting his fingers and resting his chin on them. "Unfortunately, we couldn't find a cake big enough for me to fit in."
"Thank God," Vaggie snarked, absently twirling an unused party horn between her fingers.
"I'd rather not have a repeat of my last Fallen Party," Husk said, furry arms crossed as he adjusted his wings to get more comfortable on his chair. Watching Charlie talk him into wearing a party hat had been amusing. Angel haphazardly strapping one to his top hat had been the cherry on top.
The spider demon fluttered his eyelashes. "I was your best gift there and you know it."
The sudden squeal of the party horn cut off any further banter, "Now, now. We are here to celebrate Alastor's reunion with friends and loved ones, not bicker with each other. That comes later."
"A bit counterproductive for us to celebrate someone's return to Hell rather than departure, if you ask me," Husk said.
"Oh, hush you."
Alastor gave a hearty chuckle. "Ha ha, it's unbecoming of you to mispronounce names, princess."
"Alright, like 'princess manners' said, enough with the pleasantries," Angel said, scootching further up the table with a sly grin. "let's get to the juicy bits like how you ended up back down here. It must be one heck of a story and I'm just dying to know."
"I'm actually with Angel on this one," Vaggie said.
"Yeah! It must have been wild!" Nifty stood on her chair with her hands braced on the edge of the table.
"Come on, out with it or they'll all continue pesterin'." Husk rolled his eyes at everyone, but leaned in nonetheless.
Alastor's gaze lingered on each one of them. This is what he had missed, the thing Heaven lacked, his friends. He wanted to share what he found up there with them. He wanted to be with them. He wanted to help them help demons get it through their thick skulls to let go of pointless power struggles, petty and violent rivalries, and pleasure from making others miserable. They waited with baited breath—except Charlie, she just gave him a grin and waited patiently.
"Well, darlings, truth be told there's not much to tell," the former demon said, his smile widening, "I came back to help."
Whatever answer they had been expecting, that had definitely not been on their collective lists. Alastor indulged in the dumbfounded staring contest.
"...Bullshit." Husk's fist slammed on the table, jostling the rest out of their stupor. "You's was out, free of this cesspit and you just- just dive right back in!? For what? A bunch of assholes? Nobodies?" Red wings flared when the cat's chair nearly toppled over, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "I ain't buyin' it! What's the real angle here, huh? Life upstairs not what it's cracked up ta' be? Better entertainment? Satiate your boredom? Stop pullin' my leg and get on with it."
"Like I told you, whiskers, it really was great. Part of me didn't want to leave." An image played in his mind, one of a lone woman tending to a garden. Bathed in sunlight was a motherly and kind smile he would never forget. He blinked it away. "But it didn't have everything. At the risk of sounding sappy I… missed all of you."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
The cat's eyes narrowed. "Not one of ya games?"
"I can assure you, this is most definitely not a laughing matter."
Slowly, Husk leaned back into his chair, arms crossed with a hrumpf. "…still don't buy it…"
"…Sooo, you here to stay then?" Angel said.
"Yes indeed."
"How long?" Vaggie said.
"As long as it takes to whip the entitled damned into shape."
"So, like, indefinitely?" Nifty finally piped in.
"If that's what it takes."
A squeal pierced Alastor's still recovering eardrums. Briefly he wondered if the party horn had been more preferable as Nifty bounded across the table. The backward tilt of his chair from the subsequent impact of the glomping shocked him, especially when it didn't stop tilting. His cane would not save him this time, arms unfortunately trapped in the small demon's death grip.
He felt himself and Nifty stabilize when Charlie, who had silently been hopping in place, saved them by joining in. She gave them a squeeze. "I'm so proud of you."
"Careful princess, you may give this saved soul a swelled head."
"I'm sure you always did." She said in such a sweet tone he almost didn't catch the sarcasm. The princess of Hell looked to the moth demonette expectantly.
"…You want me to join in don't you?"
Charlie nodded.
"Not gonna take 'no' for an answer?"
A more decisive nod was her answer.
"All right, make room." Her voice was reluctant, but a small smile showed through.
When Vaggie was close enough, Alastor began to whisper, "About earlier-"
"Stop," she whispered back, "I may still have some… issues with what you did, but I do have a measure of trust for you now. That said," the moth leaned in close to his ear, "If you ever try something like that again, I will personally drag your sorry culo to the furthest depths of hell, run you through with a spear, and leave you there, capish?"
Alastor just continued smiling. "Wouldn't expect anything less, darling."
Thinking she said her piece, the former demon was not prepared for a reassuring squeeze. Watching the demonette, she seemed to be struggle with something. "Anyway, it is… nice… to have you back."
He blinked as his smile softened. "Thank you."
Four more arms wrapped around the growing hug. Vaggie gave Angel a questioning look while Charlie beamed at him, the spider merely shrugged. "Eh, feeling charitable."
Alastor's gaze flicked over to their last remaining member, Husk. The cat's ear flicked as he rolled his eyes at the display, seeming more interested in the untouched cake at the table center. He was about to call out before Hell's princess beat him to it.
"Oh Hu-usk~"
"No."
Charlie gave a mock pout. "Come on~. Just a minute?"
"No! I ain't the touchy-feely type and I'm surprised he," Husk waved his hand at Alastor in the center, "is fine with being in the middle of all that!"
"I'm willing to make exceptions for special moments and close friends," Alastor said. Husk rolled his eyes again, reaching for a kitchen knife on the table.
The former demon wiggled an arm out of Nifty's tight grip. With help from a grinning Charlie and mischievous Angel, Alastor was able to close the distance and grab the cat's arm. Husk yowled as he was dragged from his chair, stumbling into the closest thing that could regain his balance; the group hug.
"Careful there Husker, this floor is a tripping hazard to anyone not sober." Alastor's arm secured itself around Husk's back.
For his part, Husk just grumbled, not trying to fight back.
"I can feel you smiling at me, I'm just getting this over with."
"Thanks Husk," Charlie said.
This reunion had not gone exactly as Alastor had thought it would. Old wounds yet to heal and a lack of trust were things that should not have surprised him, but did anyway. It almost hurt, if just a bit. Small diggs that fed a sense of dread, the thought that his return truly was a mistake.
Right now though, at this moment, surrounded by those he considered friends sharing such an intimate moment with each other, the former radio demon was sure that whatever problems they faced, new or old, they would come out on top.
"So, now that all this mushy shits out of the way, when were you going to let me in on us holding hostages?" Angel said, demolishing whatever serenity had set in.
"What?" Vaggie reeled back, not fully breaking away from the others.
"Ya know, the demons we've got bound and gagged in the bowels of the hotel. Bet you all thought I wouldn't find them when I helped you search for all this stuff."
"Uh, Angel?" Charlie said.
"What the hell are you on about?" Vaggie said.
"Don't play dumb, I'm the only one the act ever looks good on. Figured they were from that gang that's been trying to muscle in on our territory. Well the jokes on you, I'm not mad that you kept it from me, just glad you're finally sending those creeps a message. I take full responsibility for being such a positive influence on you all."
"Angel, we haven't been taking hostages," Charlie said tentatively.
"Oh, seriously?" The blank stares and nods he got in return caused Angel to deflate, slouching back on his chair. "Then who are those schmucks?"
The last two dots connected in Alastor's mind creating a rather unsurprising picture. His voice was flat and calm, "Nifty?"
The cycloptic demonette had stilled, her pupil shrunk to a pinprick and sweat beaded down her forehead. "…Okay, sooo it may have been more than five."
-/-
End Note: If anyone seems out-of-character or closer than they have been actually shown to be, this is because a lot of time has passed and they've been through stuff... that's what I'm going with anyway...
Hope you enjoyed this, thoughts and criticism are appreciated.