AN: Hey everyone, it's been a while. Sorry I haven't written but life kind of sucks. Anyways, Hazbin Hotel came out and I, like many others, have had it stuck in my head ever since. So, I figured why not try my hand at writing for this fandom. This is just a little something that decided to make a home in my head and not leave until I wrote it so I hope you enjoy my little Alastor and Vox friendship fic. Alastor is my favorite character, thus I need to make him suffer. I'll try to update this quickly and it will probably be relatively short but we'll see what happens. I'm writing this without much of a plan which is not my usual style so please bear with me :)

Disclaimer: Vivienne Medrano is the creator of Hazbin Hotel. I own nothing but the plot of this fic.

Alastor grasped his chest, doing his best to keep the blood inside his weakened body as he slowly drew himself up to his knees. Everything hurt. His ribs, his back, his shoulders, his head. The pain seemed to radiate through every inch of his body like a shock of electricity. The overlord knew he had to move, Adam was still advancing and if he had any hope of surviving this encounter he had to get out of there before the angel had another chance to attack.

'I was foolish, I suppose.' He thought to himself, managing to flip his body over so he was leaning against the low wall of the hotel's roof, broken microphone clasped in one hand. 'I should have known better than to let myself grow so careless. It seems my pride may very well be my downfall this time.'

Alastor let out a shaky sigh, the pain warring with a strange numbness that was beginning to take hold. Glancing up through the hair that had fallen into his face, he smiled wider, not allowing the fear to show as he found the camera he knew had been watching the fight.

"Apologies, old friend, I believe this is farewell." He spoke softly, ignoring the angel creeping ever closer, weapon raised to deal the finishing blow. "I'm sorry I couldn't uphold my end of the deal."

With that, he closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate. He didn't have any strength left, not even the meager bit it would take to shadow warp. It seemed to him that the Radio Demon had finally met his match.

-XXX-XXX-XXX-

Far away, in a tower that resided in a different section of the city, a certain overload's eyes narrowed. Oh, hell no! This was not happening! Not on his watch. Ignoring his colleagues' shocked exclamations, the man rose to his feet and let his powers roar to life, never taking his eyes off the screen in front of him. Within the blink of an eye, he was falling through the sky above the Hazbin Hotel, having transported himself through the camera of the drone he'd sent to observe the fight. He never imagined he'd see what he had, but that didn't matter right now. What mattered was reaching his friend before that damned angel had the chance to finish him off.

Vox hit the ground and rolled, already running as he regained his footing. Before Adam could even begin to comprehend what was happening, the TV Demon scooped the barely conscious Radio Demon into his arms and turned to glare directly at the angel. Summoning his powers once more, Vox felt his left eye spark to life as he used his hypnosis, hoping against hope that this would work.

"Your work here is done, the Radio Demon is dead," he spoke, pushing more power into his words. The knowledge that if things went wrong Alastor wouldn't be the only one to end up erased causing his voice to tremble slightly. "Trust me, it's over."

The angelic being paused, seeming to consider his words. The demon mentally urged his fallen comrade to be silent, not wanting to break the illusion he was weaving. Finally, Adam nodded to himself and turned away, flying off to join the main battle. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, Vox took a moment to relax the tension in his stiff muscles. To be honest, he was surprised that his ability had worked as well as it had.

'Jeez, that was close. Not something I ever want to experience again, that's for sure.' He thought to himself before a pained groan drew his attention back to his ailing friend.

"Al, can you hear me?" The TV Demon asked, looking at the other with concern as an explosion sounded from somewhere below them.

No answer was forthcoming. Instead, the other sinner weakly curled his body closer to Vox's chest, blood still seeping from his wound and his microphone nearly falling from his slack hand.

"Don't worry, pal, I'm getting you out of here." He comforted, knowing the other probably couldn't hear him. "We're gonna get that cut taken care of and you'll be back to your annoying self in no time, you hear me? You are not allowed to die... not after everything we've been through."

The last was said in a pained whisper as the blue overload thought back on all the years he'd known the other. It had been so long, going on sixty years now, and in that time Alastor had always seemed so indestructible. Sure, there were times when he'd been injured before, but not to this extent. Never like this. Not to the point where Vox was scared that the other sinner would die in his arms at any moment.

"I've got to get you out of here, but how?" He asked aloud, knowing he would receive no answer but needing to hear something other than the sounds of the battle raging below. "Gah! This would be so much easier if I could transport others with my power! Okay, think Vox, what's the best course of action."

He wracked his brain, knowing he didn't have time for this. Alastor was literally bleeding out in his arms. Already he could hear the other's breaths growing weaker and it sent a jolt of fear through his heart.

"There's no way I can jump off the building and ensure your safety so we're going to have to take the stairs," he spoke with resolve, tightening his hold on the fallen demon as he came to a decision. "Sorry about this Al, it might hurt, but it's the best thing I can come up with at the moment."

With that said, he shifted the slightly shorter demon into a fireman carry, carefully tucked the broken pieces of his friend's cane into his belt, and made for the entrance to the stairway. It was hopefully safer inside the building than it was outside but at least now his hands were mostly free if he did run into trouble.

Rushing down the stairs, Vox did his best not to jostle his passenger too badly. As it was, he could feel the blood leaking down his back from Alastor's wound. It sent shivers down his spine. He'd killed enough demons that the feeling of blood on his body was no stranger to him, but this was different. This was his best friend. He never imagined this would happen, that he would be hauling the other's near lifeless body out of a war zone... but here he was. He couldn't help but think back to the early days when he was new to Hell and gave a small smile. He wouldn't be here if it weren't for Alastor.

Vox walked the streets, taking in the sights before him. He'd been in Hell for about a year at this point and was steadily gaining power. It had been tough at first, every demon he'd met seemed to be out for his head or worse. He could trust no one. Everyone trying to make deals or outright murder him. Not to mention, he suddenly had a TV for a head! In a sense, it was almost exactly as he expected it to be, besides the weird body he suddenly inhabited. That didn't make him feel any better though. Now, a year in, he's learned that it's him vs. the world... or underworld... as it were.

Even so, there was one thing he found himself looking forward to... the broadcasts of the so-called Radio Demon. Not the ones where he murdered others and featured their screams as the main form of entertainment, no, he was never one for such violence. He preferred to manipulate rather than outright murder people, only resorting to such a thing when all else failed. So no, he'd rather avoid those particular shows, instead tuning in when he played music and talked about any number of subjects. It made him feel more at home, more peaceful. Some of the songs were familiar to him and some were from before his time. It didn't matter to him. It made him feel less alone, and he found himself talking back at times even though he knew the other couldn't possibly hear him.

That went on for a while, his one-sided acquaintanceship with the Radio Demon. Then, one day, everything changed. He'd stumbled upon an overlord who was new to power and ended up challenging him, wrongfully believing he could use his manipulations to take him down and win his turf. How wrong he'd been. It had been a trap and he'd fallen right into it without a second thought. Vox had never met an overlord before that day, only hearing of them. To experience their power firsthand had been a humbling experience, one that had nearly cost him his life. He lay there, bleeding on the pavement, awaiting the moment when death would claim him once more. Surprisingly, that moment never came. Instead, he heard screams and a sound like radio static fill the air. When he finally gathered the strength to rise he was met with a sight he would never forget. Blood and viscera filled the alley he'd previously been fighting for his life in, splattered on the walls and street in a gruesome show of carnage. And there, standing in the middle of it all, was the Radio Demon.

That had been the day he and Alastor had officially met. Even now, all these years later Vox still got a chill down his spine thinking of the way those blood-red eyes had turned to stare at him, the ghastly smile lighting the other sinner's face as blood dripped from every inch of his body. He still doesn't know why Al decided to spare him that day. He was defenseless, easy pickings, but instead of going in for the kill... the Radio Demon decided to show him mercy.

They met many times after that, slowly forming what would come to be their current relationship as friends while putting up a front of rivalry to keep everyone off their backs. Thinking back on all the times they'd fought over the years, Vox felt tears build in his eyes. Sure they'd had their spats, days when they didn't see eye to eye, but they were never serious. Neither of them truly wanted to hurt the other, at least not badly. They had to put on enough of a show to make sure no one else caught on, so of course there were times when injuries were unavoidable. Even so, they made sure never to wound each other too badly and, if they accidentally went too far, they would check in later on when they knew they had privacy. By putting up such a front they could never be used against each other. It was something they had mutually agreed upon shortly after they'd first become friends. This was Hell. The people down here would use every advantage they could get, exploiting friendships was just par for the course.

Now though, Vox didn't care who saw them. He was getting his friend out of this place if it was the last thing he did. Maybe now, almost sixty years later, he could repay Alastor for saving his life that fateful day. He could only hope that the other demon had the strength to survive an angelic injury of such magnitude.

"Stay strong for me, okay buddy?" The blue overload panted as they neared the ground floor, taking the stairs two at a time. "We're almost out."

Just then, the ground beneath his feet shook violently. He paused, attempting to keep his balance while glancing around for any sign of what was causing it. Suddenly, a beam of light cleaved through the landing mere meters in front of them. Debris rained from the ceiling, dust filling the air as the building groaned and began to fall. Adrenaline rushing through his system, Vox dove into a nearby alcove, flinging Alastor off his shoulders and crawling on top of him just as the ceiling gave way.