AN: So, remember when I thought this fic would be short? Well, that sure was a joke, huh? I'm apparently incapable of doing such a thing XD, anyways, this chapter is very different from any I've written before. I've never used this style but I hope it turned out okay and that you like it. Thanks again for reading :)

Disclaimer: Hazbin Hotel belongs to the one and only Vivienne Medrano.

1953

Vox slumped against the wall of the alley, legs nearly giving out. The Radio Demon had just spared his life! What the fuck was happening? From everything he'd heard, the Radio Demon never left survivors... so why had he this time? Not that he was complaining, far from it, he was damn well thankful... but what had caused the other sinner to deviate from his known M.O., and why now of all times?

Figuring that was a thought best left for another day, Vox slowly righted himself, wrapping an arm around his injured torso. He was sure to have a few cracked ribs, not to mention all the lacerations littering his body. Even so, he couldn't afford to linger. If the Radio Demon was toying with him and decided to return to finish the job he'd rather not be here when he did. So, gathering what little strength he had left, the blue sinner dragged himself home to his pitiful, rundown apartment.

1956

The next time Vox saw the Radio Demon, he had been minding his own business while browsing through the selection of meat at a reasonably priced butcher shop. He hadn't been there long when he heard the bell ring above the door, signaling that someone new had entered the establishment. He paid it no mind, people come and go all the time and he had better things to do. Moments later, he felt a chill shoot down his spine as static filled the air.

"Hmm, what a lovely selection, if I do say so myself." A familiar voice spoke and he felt himself stiffen in fear.

Slowly turning his head, Vox was met with the smiling presence of the Radio Demon. It had been three years and yet, Vox hadn't forgotten his face, not for a moment. It still haunted his dreams, as if taunting him. The smile always seeming to follow him from the corner of his eye as he awaited the day the man would return and take the life he'd spared.

"Though I'm quite disappointed at the lack of venison." The other spoke once more, eyes flicking to the side as Vox jerked back in confusion, staring at the other sinner's deer-like attributes.

He couldn't hold his tongue, the words slipping out before he even processed them.

"What the fuck... you're a deer! Isn't that like cannibalism or some shit?" He voiced, watching the Radio Demon's smile widen in amusement.

"Does it matter?" The reply came before Vox had the chance to regret his outburst. "I like what I like, that's all there is to it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find a shop that's better suited to my specific tastes."

And just like that, the Radio Demon walked out the door and Vox was left with a sudden nauseous feeling seeping into his stomach. Taking a final glance at the display, he decided that a salad sounded good for dinner and left the shop.

1958

It was late at night as Vox tracked a group of thugs that had invaded his territory. He had no idea why they'd done so, it was an area he'd secured several years ago and everyone knew to stay out. Was it some upstarts looking for a fight? Or was there something deeper going on? Someone higher on the food chain that they were working for, perhaps? Whatever it was, he planned to find out.

Taking a look around the corner, the man watched as the group dawdled. He could take them all out right now, it wouldn't be much of an issue as he had the element of surprise. But, if he was right and they were working for someone, then it would all be for nothing. No, best to let them lead him to the demon in charge. Distracted by his thoughts, Vox didn't notice the shifting shadows until screams tore through the air.

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me." He groaned, recognizing the transatlantic accent that spoke over the carnage. "How does this keep happening?"

Staying hidden behind the corner, Vox waited for the broadcast to finish before stepping out and taking in the sight before him. The Radio Demon was still present, laughing maniacally at the carnage he'd wrought.

"Thanks a lot, asshole, I was trying to find their boss." He groused, no longer worried about the other turning on him.

If the Radio Demon wanted him dead he'd already had multiple opportunities to do so and Vox would have been powerless to stop him. Trusting his luck to hold out a while longer, he spoke once more.

"How am I supposed to figure out who's moving in on my turf, now?" He asked, annoyance leaking into his tone.

"Oh, no need, my good fellow," The other sinner spoke, eyes momentarily taking on the form of radio dials as his grin sharpened. "They're already dead."

'Well, fuck,' He thought, watching the other male amble away without a care in the world.

1961

Of all the things he imagined would happen when he woke up this morning, finding the feared Radio Demon passed out in an alley was not one of them. Vox stepped forward as if by instinct, hesitated, then thought 'screw it' and rushed to the other sinner's side. He reached out, slow and careful, to place his fingers against the deer's neck. Letting out a relieved sigh upon feeling a steady thrum, Vox considered his options. The Radio Demon was unconscious, utterly defenseless. What's to stop Vox from killing him here and now and taking all that power for himself? Well, his conscious for one. He didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if he killed the man after he'd spared his life all those years ago. Besides, if he did that, he wouldn't be able to listen to his favorite radio station.

Letting out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, Vox glanced around. Noticing an abandoned blanket sticking out of a cardboard box a few feet away, an idea came to him. He swiftly grabbed said item, moving to wrap it around the unconscious demon's body to hide him from view before hefting the deer into his arms. He was surprisingly light for someone capable of committing such atrocious acts. Shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts, Vox rushed out of the alley and made his way back home.

Once he arrived, he deposited his guest on the worn sofa and settled in to wait. It didn't take long for the other to awaken. Thankfully, he didn't immediately murder him. Instead, he shot to his feet and took in his surroundings with cautious eyes, smile never wavering.

"Where am I?" The Radio Demon asked in a glitching voice as he turned to face him.

Vox held up his hands, showing he meant no harm.

"I found you passed out in an alley and brought you to my house," he revealed, staying a fair distance away. "I didn't think you'd appreciate getting murdered by some upstart while you slept."

"Fair enough," the other responded, eyes narrowed warily. "What do you expect in return for this favor?"

Shaking his head, Vox scoffed, "I don't expect anything."

Upon noticing the other's eyes narrowing in suspicion he amended his previous statement.

"Well, there is one thing." He said, watching as the Radio Demon seemed to calm slightly. "I want to know how you ended up there."

"Is that all?" The red sinner laughed, cocking his head to the side. "You truly are an interesting fellow, I'll give you that."

Vox didn't know whether to be offended or pleased by that statement.

"To answer your question, it was a simple miscalculation on my part." The other continued, eyes shifting away as if annoyed. "I assure you, it won't happen again."

Nodding in understanding, Vox watched as the Radio Demon walked out his door before a thought popped into his head. 'Dammit! Now he knows where I live!'

1964

Ever since the day he'd brought the Radio Demon into his home, Vox found the other sinner popping up at regular intervals. The first time he'd walked into his kitchen and found the man sitting at his table sipping from a cup of coffee, he'd nearly had a heart attack. After that, it had been a common occurrence and yet, he still didn't know the fucker's name! It was frustrating! They'd known each other for a while now... meeting on and off for about ten years... and Vox was beginning to consider the guy his friend. Hell, he would be the first actual friend Vox has had since landing in this shit hole. Was knowing his name too much to ask?

"My, someone seems to be in a foul mood this beautiful morning." A cheerful voice called as he entered his sitting room.

'Speak of the devil' He thought to himself, not even surprised anymore as he turned to find the Radio Demon sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of joe.

"Just a lot on my mind." He stated, moving over to his seat where a steaming cup suspiciously awaited him.

"Hmm, do tell." The other sinner smiled, taking a delicate sip as he watched with interest. "What could be troubling Hell's newest overlord on such an auspicious occasion? Congratulations, by the way."

"Wait? What?" Vox asked in confusion, having no idea what the man was talking about. "I'm not an overlord."

"You are now," He revealed, smiling ominously. "You see, a position recently opened up and you're the only one eligible to fill it, thus the promotion."

Eyes wide, Vox slumped into his chair. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Everything he'd been working toward for the last decade was being handed to him on a silver platter and yet, he hesitated. What did the Radio Demon get out of helping him? The man was a known deal maker, if he accepted without knowing the terms it was sure to come back and bite him in the ass.

"What do you want from me?" He questioned, wary eyes watching the grinning man from across the table.

"Oh nothing, nothing at all." Came the chipper response. "I'm simply returning a long overdue favor."

Seeing no sign of dishonesty, Vox felt himself nod in acceptance. If what the man said was true, it's not like he could refuse anyway. Deciding to move on to other matters, Vox smiled slyly.

"So does the fearsome Radio Demon have a name, or should I make one up for you?" He teased, taking pleasure when the question caused his companion to choke on his coffee.

The other sinner simply stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed and smile wide before he tilted his head to the side curiously.

"Hmm, I suppose I can tell you seeing as it seems I won't be rid of you any time soon." The man replied as if he weren't the one currently invading Vox's home. "You may call me Alastor."

Grinning like a fool, Vox reached his hand across the table, grabbing the other man's in a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you Alastor, the name's Vox."

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Alastor said and just like that, he was gone, disappearing into shadow as if he were a figment of the imagination.

The new overlord smiled, not letting the other's quick departure trouble him. After all, he'd come back when he grew bored.

1971

"So, how'd you die?" Vox asked as the pair lingered behind after an overlord meeting.

They were careful not to be noticed as they had decided it would be best not to reveal their friendship to others.

"That is a very personal question." The other demon replied, smile wavering.

"Yeah, well, I'm curious." He admitted, slightly concerned by the older sinner's reaction.

Alastor rarely spoke of his human life and when he did it usually revolved around his mother, so Vox couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him. He'd walked in on him once, just as Al was getting out of the shower. It hadn't been a pretty sight. Numerous scares littered the man's scrawny form and Vox had to fight back the rage he felt at the discovery.

"I want to know more about my friend, is that so wrong?" Vox asked, reaching out to place a hand on the other's shoulder only for him to tense under his touch.

He was quick to remove it, not wanting to cause any discomfort. That was one thing he'd discovered, Al was very touch-averse. It was something he was slowly working to remedy... but progress was slow, to say the least.

"How about I start?" He declared, watching the deer's ears perk with interest. "Okay, so I worked as a TV salesman when I was alive. Big fucking surprise, there, am I right? I was on a job, pitching the newest model to a potential client and had just gotten it set up to show off how it worked when there was a power surge. I don't know what happened, exactly, but something went wrong and the damn thing blew up. The next thing I knew, there was screaming and I couldn't breathe. You see, a shard of glass had sliced through my neck and I ended up drowning in my own blood."

Risking a glance at his friend, he saw Alastor staring at him with a sympathetic look, ears flat against his head.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, it sounds terrible." He spoke at last, averting his eyes as he continued. "I suppose I'll return the favor then. I worked as a radio host and a rather popular one at that."

"Figures," Vox muttered with a quiet laugh, gesturing for the other to continue as he glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, let's just say I had a certain... hobby... that no one knew of. Namely, I was a serial killer in my spare time." Vox let out a low whistle, he'd expected the man to have a bloody past... he just didn't realize it would be that bad. "I was in the process of burying my latest victim when a hunter mistook me for a deer and shot me in the head. Somehow, I didn't die immediately. No, I was still clinging to life when his dogs found me. The last thing I felt before ending up in Hell were their teeth ripping into my flesh."

Vox felt sick to his stomach, unable to do anything other than stare at his friend in horror before finally managing to choke out. "Fuck, Al, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought this up."

"No harm done, my dear friend, it's in the past," Alastor commented, red eyes betraying his unease as he walked toward the door. "Now, I really must be going."

Regretting his choices, the blue sinner was quick to follow.

1976

"I've been thinking," Vox said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

The two had managed to find time in their busy lives for a chat and the TV Demon figured it was the perfect time to bring up something that had been on his mind for a while.

"A dangerous pastime," the other joked, turning his full attention to his friend. "What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, Vox took the plunge.

"I think we should make a deal," he replied, attempting to gauge Alastor's reaction.

"Is that so..." the Radio Demon asked, interest piqued. "What kind of deal?"

"One between friends." He stated, moving to stand before the other man, a serious expression on his face. "In life, we both died alone... painfully... and I don't want that to happen again."

"I think I see what you're proposing," Alastor spoke quietly, meeting his gaze with understanding. "I must say, I have no wish for a repeat of such events."

"What if we promise that, no matter what, we'll be there for one another? If worst comes to worst, we won't let the other die alone." He stated, voice shaking slightly.

"Let me add something, if I may?" Alastor replied, reaching out to place a comforting hand on the TV Demon's shoulder. "I have no intention of dying. However, if such an event comes to pass, I find that I wouldn't be adverse to your company. In the meantime, let us become the most powerful overlords Hell has ever seen so that if the day comes where we perish we will leave behind an unforgettable legacy."

Vox stared at the other in shock, he'd known his friend was ambitious but this was something else. Slowly a smile spread across his face, matching the one worn by the Radio Demon, and he laughed.

"Yeah, I like the sound of that." He agreed, meeting the other's gaze with firm resolve.

"It's a deal, then?" Alastor asked, needing to be certain they were on the same page.

"Yeah, Al, it's a deal," Vox confirmed, reaching out to take his friend's hand.

1983

It was dark out, the trees seeming to converge in on them in an unsettling manner. He'd never been to this part of Hell and being so far away from any form of technology worried the TV Demon. Still, he followed his friend. He and Alastor had been tracking down a lead that could result in a deal for the other demon. To be fair, Vox wasn't needed for this. Al had simply dragged him along for some company.

"So, where do we go from here?" Vox questioned, glancing around at the unfamiliar sights.

The TV Demon tended to stay away from places such as this. They rendered his powers practically useless and he hated that he'd have to rely so heavily on Alastor if they got into trouble.

"Hmm, that is the question." Alastor, hummed in response, causing Vox to stop in his tracks.

His eyes widened in disbelief before an incredulous laugh tore from his throat.

"Oh, you are shitting me!" He said, not amused in the slightest. "You're lost?"

"I don't think 'lost' is the right word," The Radio Demon denied, glancing around at the nearby scenery. "We're simply taking in the sights before reaching our goal, that's all."

"So... we're lost," he deadpanned, not putting up with his friend's bullshit.

"Yes, we're lost," Al admitted, upon realizing the other wouldn't play along.

"Well, that's fucking great," Vox muttered as he began walking in a random direction, Alastor jogging to keep up.

It took him two hours of pointless wandering before he remembered Alastor could use his shadows to teleport them home. Once confronted, the Radio Demon merely laughed at his misery.

1992

Vox snuggled under the covers of his bed, a box of tissues nearby. How he could get a cold with a TV for a head he had no clue, but that's what happened when Alastor decided to drag him through a bayou he'd made using his powers. The damp air wreaked havoc on his lungs and now here he sat, sneezing his brains out every few minutes while his nose ran like a faucet. To make matters worse, he couldn't get a moment's rest because Al was constantly checking on him.

It was obvious the deer demon felt guilty for what had happened, after all, it had been his idea. Vox wasn't upset with him though. He knew his friend had simply wanted to show him the place as it was a fond memory of his life before Hell. He only wished Al wouldn't be so hard on himself, it's not like this cold was gonna kill him.

"Here, I brought you something to eat," Alastor announced as he walked back into the room, a bowl carried in one hand. "As my dear mother used to say, soup is like a liquid hug for your taste buds."

Sitting up in bed, he smiled at his friend before taking the bowl.

"Would you like to watch something while you eat?" The deer asked, fiddling with the remote for Vox's TV. "I know how much you enjoy the picture show, and I'm sure I can figure this darned contraption out."

That earned an amused chuckle from Vox as he knew how much the other demon hated television. It warmed his heart to know Al would willingly put his own discomfort aside for him, though. Still, he didn't want to inconvenience his friend if he had better things to do.

"You know you don't have to take care of me, right?" He asked, taking a small bite of the soup with an appreciative moan.

Damn, Alastor could cook.

"Of course, I don't... but I want to," the Radio Demon revealed, ears folded against his head as he took a seat on a chair he pulled up beside the bed. "I know I may not say it often but, I care for you, Vox. You're my friend and I don't like seeing harm befall you."

The warmth that washed over him in that moment was worth the annoyance this cold had caused. He would gladly suffer through whatever came his way if it meant his friendship with Alastor would remain a constant in his life.

2000

It was not unusual for one of them to seek out the other when they were upset. Normally, though, it was Vox who sought comfort from Alastor as the Radio Demon still had trouble showing weakness even around his good friend. Today, however, was different. The blue sinner could tell something was wrong the moment Al stepped out of a nearby shadow, head bowed and shoulders trembling.

"Alastor, what's wrong?" He called, rushing forward to place a hand on the other male's back and lead him to a nearby chair. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

There was a choked sob as Al buried his face in his hands and sank into the seat. Vox stared in shock. He'd never seen the other so much as shed a tear, now he seemed to be having a full-on breakdown. Rubbing a soothing hand over the deer's back in silent support, he waited patiently for the man to calm down enough to speak. It took several long minutes but soon enough the sobs turned to sniffles and the tears slowed. Reaching out to offer a napkin, Vox watched as the man pulled himself together.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked, at last, gently grasping one of the Radio Demon's hands.

There was another minute of silence and Vox feared the other wouldn't answer, then he took a breath and looked up with sorrowful eyes.

"You'll have to forgive me, today is not a good day," Alastor revealed, voice shaking slightly. "You see, my friend, today is the anniversary of my dear mother's death and I find myself missing her worse than usual."

"Oh, shit, Al... I'm so sorry. Do you want to talk about it or something?" The blue overlord suggested.

He knew how close his friend was to the mother he talked so highly of. He'd heard the stories. Heard of how Al had grown up with a loving mom and abusive asshole of a father. The TV Demon hadn't been happy when he'd learned that little tidbit, that's for sure. If he ever met the bastard here in hell he'd be sure to give him a piece of his mind.

"No, I don't think I'm ready," the other admitted, no smile to be seen as Vox focused his attention back on his friend.

Thinking for a moment, a smile appeared on his face as an idea came to mind.

"Then how about you teach me to cook one of her recipes?" He declared, seeing the other's ears perk with interest at the suggestion. "It'll take your mind off things."

Receiving a small nod, Vox breathed a sigh of relief as he continued talking about everything and nothing, simply serving as a much-needed distraction in his friend's time of need as Alastor gathered the ingredients for the impromptu cooking lesson.

2009

Vox rushed through the streets to where reports had stated the Radio Demon had been sighted after an absence of nearly a week. Catching a glimpse of a red coat disappearing into a dark alleyway, he increased his pace, racing to catch up to his friend.

"Alastor!" He called once he'd made sure they were alone, successfully gaining the man's attention.

The deer Demon turned to face him, a smile on his face as he said. "Hello Vox, it's been a while."

He glared at the other sinner, taking a threatening step forward to grab onto the lapels of his coat. Al stared at him, face impassive behind his smile.

"Do you realize how long I've been looking for you, asshole?" The TV Demon demanded, pulling him even closer as he wrapped his arms tightly around his friend's skinny body in a tight embrace. "It's been days, Al! You never went home after our fight!"

"Such labor on your part was quite unnecessary, I assure you," the older demon stated, returning the hug upon realizing how upset his friend was. "I was simply taking a few days to myself."

"This shit wouldn't happen if you'd let me get you a cell phone," Vox growled, calming down from his panic. "For fuck's sake, Al, I thought I'd hurt you."

"Vox, look at me, I'm perfectly safe," Alastor reassured, feeling bad for scaring his friend. "No harm done."

"I know that now, fucker." Was the reply he spat at the Radio Demon. "But I had no way of knowing then. That fight was more intense than normal and you disappeared! You could have been lying in a gutter bleeding out and I'd have had no way of knowing! What about our deal, Alastor? Does it mean nothing to you?"

He knew it was a low blow, of course Al cared, but he was too upset to think straight. The days he'd spent searching for Alastor, not knowing where he was or if he would make it in time had carved into his heart, leaving deep scars... and this wasn't the first time he'd disappeared after a fight.

"Of course it does," the other sinner replied softly, eyes hiding the hurt he felt. "It means as much to me as it does to you... you know that."

"Then would it fucking kill you to embrace just a little bit of tech?" Vox pleaded, finally pulling away. "Please, Alastor, for me?"

"I... I'll consider it."

2014

Hiding behind the door of Alastor's house, Vox smiled. This would be an awesome surprise if it didn't get him killed. He'd already prepared everything, having known the other overlord would be out for most of the day, now he just had to wait. Less than five minutes later, the TV Demon heard the sound of shoes coming up the walk and held his breath.

The door opened and he jumped out from behind it, shouting directly in Al's face, "Happy fiftieth friendship anniversary!"

Snickering slightly at the sight of Alastor's radio dial eyes (he must have really startled him), Vox took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen where he proceeded to push him into a chair and place a bowl of gumbo in front of him. Thanks to the cooking lessons the deer had given him, it had turned out rather well in his opinion. The Radio Demon's eyes returned to normal as he took in the scene before him, his smile becoming far more genuine.

"My goodness, has it truly been so long?" He asked, tasting the food and letting his eyes fall closed in pleasure for a moment.

"Fuck yeah, it has!" Vox replied, smirking. "It was 1964, remember? I finally learned your fucking name."

"Hmm, so it was." The other agreed, continuing to eat. "Then I suppose I should give you this."

Pulling out a neatly wrapped present from the inner pocket of his coat, the red demon laughed as Vox's jaw dropped. He hadn't thought his friend would remember. No offense to Al but he'd never been one to pay attention to such trivial things. That had never bothered the younger sinner as Alastor tended to show he cared in other ways, but he had to admit he was curious to know what was inside. Opening the lid, Vox's brows furrowed in confusion until he heard what the other had to say.

"I will allow you to teach me how to use it, however, it is only for emergencies, do you understand?" He revealed, distaste clear on his face.

Staring down at the flip phone the asshole had probably chosen just to fuck with him, Vox smiled and nodded. He could work with this.

2024

"I've decided to help the princess with her wacky hotel business," Alastor said out of the blue one day.

Vox, who had joined the demon at his radio station for a relaxing broadcast (one that didn't include murder) did a double take. What the hell? What could his friend be thinking, getting involved with Lucifer's daughter? That was just asking for trouble! He'd seen the fiasco that her interview had become. The woman had no idea what she was doing and was clearly delusional if she thought she could rehabilitate the residents of Hell.

"Alastor, you know I respect your decisions and I say this with utmost respect but... HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND?" He shouted, concern washing over him in waves.

Reaching out to place a calming hand on the other's shoulder, Alastor smiled in amusement. "Trust me, old pal. If everything goes to plan, we will be one step closer to our goal."

Vox could see where the other demon's thought process was heading. They had made a deal to become the strongest and having the support of Princess Charlie was a step in the right direction, still, he couldn't help but have a bad feeling about this.

"Just be careful, okay?" He asked, reaching out to grip Al's forearm in a death grip. "You're painting a target on your back by getting involved with this crazy scheme. Sinners may start to think the Radio Demon is getting soft."

"No worries, my dear fellow, I can handle myself." Alastor smiled at him, not concerned in the least. "I'm sure this will be very entertaining."