Chapter 4: Today Was A Good Day

Three weeks passed in a flash and I was putting in work. Nifty and I alternated our cooking and cleaning tasks each week and every other Sunday, Alastor took over in the kitchen. There was no work schedule, everything was done on my time as long as it was at a reasonable hour. Out of habit, I chose to start my morning before everyone at 4:30am and ended my day with dinner ready by 6pm. Charlie planned for lessons and activities for the week every Sunday, too, with the help of Alastor and Vaggie. I wanted to be included just to be close to Charlie, but I was too nervous, not yet confident in sharing my own ideas for the hotel's success. So usually I spent my free time with Husker and Angel and sometimes Nifty, if she wasn't chasing bugs in the wall. I decided to only use my powers for bug extermination once a month, for Nifty's sake. I didn't want to take all her fun away.

Out of everyone, the person I'd say I'm most connected to is Angel Dust. He was weary of me in the beginning, but he was the first one to approach me, aside from Charlie. Whatever opinion he had of me when I first arrived, it disintegrated into dust the day after when I surprised them with my cooking. My lips could make gaps just big enough to allow me to taste liquids, but when I came to food, I had to rely entirely on smell. After learning this, Angel decided he'd be my personal taste tester whenever he wasn't at work. The help meant a lot to me. So when he invited me to go shopping with him for work today, I was more than happy to go. It was the least I could do for all his help.

"Hey, Thorne! Whatdaya think 'a this, huh?"

I'm sitting cross legged in front of a dressing room, and I redirect my attention from a very obvious shoplifter I'd been watching to Angel. He sashayed out of the dressing room, a bright pink sequined minidress clinging to his every curve. The harsh overhead lights glinted off the sequins, creating a disco ball effect that seemed to follow him around the room. He struck a pose, his hips jutting out dramatically and pushing his chest fluff higher to his neck with his upper pair of hands, while the lower pair rested on his hips. I don't understand how this guy could pull off literally anything. "Does this dress make my tits look big?"

'Okay, one: You don't have tits. And two: No, not big enough,' I signed. He turned to the mirror to examine himself. "I don't think strapless is your style. Try a windowed halter top. Those frame your chest fluff really well."

"Oh-hooo, have you been checkin' me out, baby," he flirted. I rolled my eyes at him, but I can't hide the smirk under my threads.

'Wrong. Go change.'

"Ugh, I really like this color though… But yeah, you're right, it can be bigger. Hold on." He took a quick moment to change into his regular attire and then we were on the hunt for another ridiculously outfit. He sighed, seemingly frustrated with his lack of findings.

'Question: What exactly are you looking for,' I ask curiously.

"I need some new looks for my shoot tonight. But it's soooo fuckin' dumb. I mean, where tha hell am I gonna find an outfit that says "totally-fuckable-space-alien" in a way where I don't hafta to explain it? Or looks as stupid as it sounds?"

'We'll find something eventually.'

"I hope so," he complained. He was so fussy today. "I'm not tryna be out here all day."

'Why? In a rush to go drool over a certain drunkie?' His eyes widened when he read the translation.

"Wh-what?! Drool?! I-I dunno what you're talkin' about," he fumbled. He didn't look at me, but I saw the red creep up his neck. He's cute when he's embarrassed.

'You can't lie to me,' I pushed, 'I see how you look at him, you know.'

"I don't drool ova' anyone, okay? I'm the one that's drooled afta', not the otha' way around, capiche?" He's flipping through clothes as a distraction, and it makes me chuckle.

'Oh please, don't insult me. I'm not blind. You want to bone Husk so bad, it makes you look stupid.'

"H-Hey!" He frantically pushes my hands down, subtitles along with it. I can't help but giggle at his embarrassment. He pushes me playfully and goes back to sifting through the clothing rack. "Jeez, just spread my business to the whole damn world, why don't ya?"

'I think you do a good enough job of that yourself.' He rolls his eyes at me, but I'm not worried because he's still smiling. It's just too easy. I love teasing this guy. It's nice to have someone to casually joke around with like this again.

"You've watched my films," he asked, seemingly surprised by my knowledge of him and his occupation. Who hasn't heard of the porn demon at least once?

My hands go to work with a response. 'Not by choice. We had a shitbox at my old job that would play your films sometimes, but I never paid it any mind. I always wondered though, is it as fun as you make it seem on screen?'

He scoffs at the question. He doesn't need to answer me, I can see it in the way he frowns. "I wish… Well, eh, that's not entirely true. Sometimes it is. I love havin' sex just as much as the next psycho. My boss is just… well, let's just say he ain't the easiest to work with."

This answer concerns me a bit. I'd never judge Angel for his line of work. If it's what made him happy and he was okay with it, who am I to judge? I liked him well enough, anyway. What I didn't like was the idea of him being in such a vulnerable line of work where he wasn't treated well.

'You don't like it,' I asked cautiously.

"I don't like him, that's all…"

'Why-' I caught myself and held my own hands, realizing how invasive I was being. Angel is gripping a plum colored silk dress in his hand with unnecessary tightness, and I get the message loud and clear. Mentally kicking myself for my insensitivity, I corrected my response. 'Sorry. We don't have to talk about this now. Let's just find you something nice to wear, yeah?'

His smile is all the reassurance I need. He must have noticed me watching him, as he took a deep breath and hung the dress back on the rack of clothes. "Yeah… Thanks, doll."

'Thanks, doll…' The words echoed in my head, reminding me of Gus and his idiocy that kept me well entertained at The Shipwreck. I suddenly felt a squeeze in my chest, an urge to see him. Angel, in his own little way, reminded me of the big dummy shark demon that I was so bold to call my friend. Maybe that's why he felt easier to talk to. I took a mental note to write to him, letting him know how I've been since arriving here. Maybe convince him to leave and join me.

A sudden scream erupted from Angel's pocket and he pulled out his phone to check the caller ID. So many emotions crossed his face in such a short amount of time. Annoyance, disgust and, most notably, fear. I saw his jawline tense as he gritted his sharp teeth. If he squeezed his phone any harder, I was almost sure he'd break it.

"Goddammit… Fuck does he want now?" He's been sighing a lot today. With an apologetic smile, he awkwardly backed away from me to take the call. "Sorry babe, I gotta take this." And he vanished around a corner where I couldn't see or hear him.

Angel must be a great actor. I knew maybe his job might be stressful, it was evident in the long hours and late nights he tended to come home. Husker was always the last to go to sleep, with his usual excuse of doing "night shift cleaning". It was obvious, at least to me, that he didn't want to admit he was waiting for Angel to come home. I picked up the habit myself, staying up late in my room until I heard the front door creek open. Angel would come home sore and tired and my curiosity would get the best of me, listening through the crack of my door to their soft murmuring. They cared deeply for each other, perhaps even loved each other. I liked watching whatever was between them blossom. And whatever Angel dealt with at work, Husk was his first responder for comfort. I appreciated him for that.

Romance. I've yet to feel such an emotion for anyone. Never cared much for it.

When Angel returned, the air around him felt different. I got the feeling he was in no mood to joke around anymore. With unnecessary aggression, he tossed the clothes he held in his hand to the floor. Something itched in me to pick it up, but I ignored it. "Change of plans. Val needs me at the studio."

I blinked up at him. 'Right now,' I asked. 'But we haven't even finished your shopping for the shoot.'

"He said not to worry about it. Come on, let's get outta here." He was off before I could say anything else. Rushing out of the store after him, we quickly got into the limo parked out front. Charlie was gracious enough to let us borrow it for the trip, in case we came back with more than we could carry and so we didn't get robbed of our expensive possessions. Angel is a celebrity, after all. I was surprised no one tried to rob the car instead, but then again, Razzle was an excellent body guard.

"Take me to Val's." A notably dreadful request. Angel slumped in the seat across from me and we rode in an uncomfortable silence the rest of the way.

I poked my head out the window to look at the building coming into view. Neon lights were almost blinding this side of town. Everything sparkled with the illusory promise of a glamorous life, fame and false contentment. A pretty show meant to draw you in, to coax you, bathe you in riches in exchange for your entire being, your soul, if you had one. In a strange way, it reminded me of the Angular Beast and that of its parasites whose lives I drained. There was something dark about this place. And the way Angel seemed apprehensive about exiting the car, I felt sick to know I was right.

'A-N-G-E-L' I signed his name in front of his face, distracting him from whatever thought he was lost in. 'Will you be okay? Do I need to come get you tonight-'

"Dollface, don't worry 'bout me, alright?" His smile was not as reassuring as he thought it was. His eyes looked empty. He wasn't here right now, not really. Not like before. "I'll see you at home."

I watched him walk into that industrial lie of stardom, standing tall and proud like it wasn't secretly ruining him. A symphony of wailing and rattling chains rang in my ears and it grew louder and louder and the noise felt like I was drowning under the weight of this building's fears, shame and sorrows. There was something evil within and it worried me to know Angel was at the heart of it. With a cold stare, I rolled up the tinted window and requested Razzle to take me back to the hotel.

The complex aroma of mouthwatering food invaded my senses, and I cursed myself for my impeccable cooking ability. My stomach growled, hunger demanding to be treated, but thankfully not as crippling as it could be. Surviving off small rodents in the area and insects was not my ideal meal for feeding, but I had little room to complain. It got the job done, but because they were small prey, they didn't satisfy me for long. The size and amount of prey played a big part in that. I am irrationally picky and suffer greatly from the disease that is boredom, quickly growing intolerant of the same foods I may eat daily. And I was getting incredibly bored of these limited menu items. And this was bothersome, considering I had no safe place to feed anything bigger. Not yet, at least.

I didn't want to eat the eels I brought with me when I first arrived a month ago. Charlie, thinking they were pets, had gone through the trouble of getting them an aquarium and they now swam in a large tank within the hotel's library. She thought it would add to the ambiance, and while I was a bit annoyed at first having turned my lunch into pets, I found that she was right. The soft bioluminescent glow of their scales provided just enough light to enjoy a book in the quiet darkness of the library. The gentle sound of water was soothing to the ears. The ocean had always been one of the better parts of the Envy Ring. When I was well above the surface, anyway.

As I packed the last bit of food away, labeling each container, I fantasized of old delicacies. Demon flesh rarely ever tasted good, the most consistently delicious being that of a young child. They were the purest form of meat, next to infants, virgins, and vegetarians (in my humble opinion, but every cannibal is different). Newborns, while delicious, were too little, lacked defining muscles, and did not yet develop their own unique taste. The best time to eat them is a little after they've learned to walk, no older than 2 years old. Truly a delicacy, indeed.

Perhaps it is in my nature as a siren, but the urge to tear flesh apart in the name of starvation is a feeling I had to learn to repress. I couldn't be a palace maid and untrained, undisciplined. To control my hunger is to control myself. It's disrespectful, rude even. Just poor bad manners.

My last remaining stream of consciousness fades away when I hang the last dish up to dry, completing my duties for the evening. I made my way to the training room when I suddenly felt the disgusting sense that I was being watched. I stopped and turned my attention to the looming shadows behind me, already becoming agitated. Why did always have to fuck with me? He's been fucking with me since my arrival, any chance he got. I half-wondered if this was what it was like to be bullied by an older sibling.

I signed my question to the darkness. 'Are you going to stalk me like I'm some sort of prey the whole time I'm here?'

There is a chilling silence before Alastor manifests before me from a puddle of his own shadows. I hate being smaller than him. I hate his blatant lack of respect towards me. I hate him.

"My dear, you're not exactly prey material," he retorted, his tone cool and composed.

'You sure do revel in the shadows, don't you,' I ask him.

Alastor's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why, of course! The shadows hold such tantalizing secrets. Everyone knows all the juiciest kinds of entertainment are born where no one can see them."

'Weird answer...,' I started, 'But I guess I should expect that from you. Though, I'm starting to think you've got something to hide. What are you so afraid of that you can't face them in the light?'

His laughter echoed through the halls. "Afraid? Perish the thought, little imp. I thrive on the darkness, just as you thrive on your illusions of light."

I feel my right eye twitch at his response. 'Hey, just because you don't believe in something, that doesn't mean it's not real to others,' I argued, emphasizing the "you" by pressing a finger to his chest. I stare up at his gaze head-on, refusing to show any sign of weakness. My hands don't do me enough justice portraying the attitude I want to vocalize.

'Your beloved darkness won't hide you forever, Edgelord. Sooner or later, the truth will reveal itself, and you'll have to face whatever you're running from,' I tell him.

I see his eyes reading my translation, but he does not seem impressed. In fact, he seems amused and his eyes are flashing with malice. Getting under people's skin must be part of his job description as a facility manager. As much as I try to ignore him, he always seems to know just to crawl into mine. It's not even what he says bothers me, he's just… so fucking annoying to be around.

So why did I feel like I was losing whatever this exchange was?

"Well, that's interesting, coming from you of all people." He returns my emphasis on the word "you", pushing my forehead with a clawed finger. I slap his hand away and with a deep chuckle, he walks past me, purposely bumping my shoulder to get out of his way. "By all means, believe what you wish. But you'd do well to keep Charlie out of it. She doesn't take disappointments lightly."

My jaw tightened, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. Me? A disappointment? To Charlie? What the hell would make him say that? What did he know about anything? The thought angered me.

I claimed my responsibility for her from the moment I met her. I made it my job to make her life easier, to realize her dreams and make sure they come to fruition. She is my princess. I wouldn't dare think of ever disappointing her. A bastard like him shouldn't dare speak her name so loosely, and in an effort to manipulate me, no less. It pissed me off how above everyone he thought he was. Beneath our verbal sparring, a deeper conflict simmered with me, one that threatened to erupt into something far more sinister.

That interaction left me with a bad taste in my mouth for the rest of the training hour. I was damn good at holding a grudge, but horrible at controlling my temper. Because of that, this was one activity I was reluctant to join. I had always kept my own training fresh, but I was not too thrilled at the idea of showing my skills this soon. I was worried I'd embarrass myself.

My trained eye could pick out everyone's strengths and flaws, but what really struck me was that Alastor never joined in either. At the end of every training session, he or Vaggie would offer the challenge of sparring with him, but no one ever took it. Apparently he was one of the most powerful and well-known overlords in the Pride Ring. I thought "shitlord" was much more fitting.

Alastor and I spoke very little to one another and when we did, it was him trying to taunt me, play a sick prank on me, or order me around. It irked me to no end that he looked down on me and saw me as nothing more than just another lower class demon to toy with. Always testing me, always making condescending remarks on my work, always making me feel like what I'm doing wasn't good enough. He often tried to intimidate me, but it never worked. Just made me more angry, and I knew he secretly hated that. I wasn't scared of that cajun fuckhead.

"Alright, I think that's enough for the day," Vaggie finally announced. "Good work, guys. Same time tomorrow."

"Ugh, finally," Angel groaned, falling on his back on the wood floor. Charlie fell next to him, equally exhausted. "How do you do this training shit every day? I'm barely this sore when I'm done with work."

"You need it more than any "train" you catch at work…," Vaggie gumbled. I chuckled at the sarcasm in her joke and she flashed me a quick smirk. "Alright, get outta here. Get all the rest you need because I'm kicking your asses again tomorrow. Do not be late! Dismissed!"

Alastor clears his throat and the room gives him the attention he's looking for. Except me.

"Aren't you forgetting something," he asks in a sing-song tone, radio voice in full effect.

"I'm not wasting anyone's time asking if they want to challenge you to a fight." I love Vaggie's no-nonsense attitude towards him. It was music to my ears hearing her chew him out for anything, like witnessing a bully getting in trouble with their parents.

"Well, that's disappointing. I'd hoped at least one of you would feel confident enough to challenge me by now." He sighs, shit eating grin still plastered on his face. "Not that I blame any of you. A wise decision."

I scoffed through my nose and rolled my eyes so hard, I thought they'd stuck behind my head. This guy loved to feed his ego. His comment floated in the air of defeat that filled the room. I looked between all the faces of my hotel mates and realized that even if they wanted to, they were too tired to actually do it. I knew Charlie was much stronger than Alastor could ever hope to be, but she lacked the skills and fighting experience needed to propose a real challenge for him.

Just then, I felt a strong sense of duty overtake me. Something just told me they needed a win to end the training day on a good note. So when I stood and quietly walked to the middle of the floor, my heart felt full to see just the faintest glimmer of light shine in their eyes, even if they were mostly shadowed by concern. It hadn't been long, but I'd choose them over the shadow man, any day. I did not like seeing how helpless they seemed to feel against him. How helpless I felt against him.

"Well now, what have we here," Alastor asked slowly. He stood from his seat and stepped to the middle of the floor, a respectful sparring distance away from me. Again with the amused glint in his eyes, but still not impressed.

Good. I want to see the look on his face when I make him bleed.

"Are you fuckin nuts," Husker asked incredulously. "Don't get yourself hurt, this guy ain't someone to take lightly."

"Uh, Thorne?" Angel's concern was evident in the way he said my name. "Ya sure about this? I mean, ya haven't trained with us at all since you've been here."

'Neither has he,' I reasoned. The subtitles Alastor put on me was admittedly a wonderful idea. Now everyone could read what I was saying, everyone but myself. I don't know how it appeared to other people, I couldn't even see it in a mirror.

"Yes, but… He's a powerful overlord," Vaggie said, as if I needed a reminder.

There was that familiar deep chuckle again. "That, I am," he stated proudly. "You should listen to your instructor, little imp. Those who've crossed me rarely live to tell the tale."

My eyes never left his snarling gaze. He wanted me to back down. I refused, straightening my back and stood tall. I always did have a problem with authority.

'Could've fooled me.'

And there it was. A slight twitch in his eye, a predatory shine in that fake smile of his. A lesson he was now determined to teach me, and I couldn't wait to learn.

Here's the thing; I was totally okay with losing. I knew I didn't have what it took to actually defeat him in a true fight, especially with the limitations of my own power. I didn't blindly accept this challenge just for the sake of being difficult. This was my opportunity to learn him on a deeper level, one that I thought would be more his style. Based on observation and listening, there were a few things I did know about him. He was a serial killer when he was alive on earth, a cannibal, an attention whore, a manipulator, a deal maker. But none of that accounted for the mystery of his physical strength. And I intend to solve that today.

"Alright." Vaggie locked into her drill sergeant mode. "This fight seems a little unfair, so I'm setting some rules. You will have five minutes to fight within two rounds. The first round will be hand-to-hand combat only. The second will include any special abilities. Do not kill anyone." She glared at Alastor for that last part. "Ready yourselves."

Neither of us moved. He stood tall with his hands behind his back and I stood just the same with my gloved hands held in front of me. The tension between us was sure to suffocate the room, and it was electrifying to my senses. Hair stood on the back of my neck, a chill running up and down my spine. I was excited to be given this opportunity. I had so much steam to blow off and I knew he could take it. I wanted him to bless me with the worst part of himself. My body itched for a long repressed desire to bring pain to something, anything, and I needed him to give me a reason to set this side of myself free.

The others sat on the sidelines watching with intensity, too engaged to look away. Alastor still didn't seem to take me seriously. I was just a noisy little imp to him. His first mistake.

Devour him.

Vaggie, after a moment's hesitation, stepped between us and raised her arm high in the air. "And… Begin!"

She jumped out of the way, expecting the fight to begin immediately. Still, neither of us moved.

I couldn't help but smirk. He's a calculator, a strategist. His smile gives him a sense of control, a well trained barrier of not wanting to be read by not just his enemies, but anyone at all. I wonder if he knew his eyes told more than he probably would have liked.

It was quite literally a blink of an eye when his punch launched me to the other end of the wall. The pain in my chest and back knocked the wind out of me and I collapsed to the floor. I coughed, not that it could really go anywhere, but the blood pushed through my sealed lips. The shock from the blow stunned me, scared me, then enraged me. Whatever doubts I had about his speed and strength, he erased it. It made me feel… Alive.

"Whoa! Fuckin' asshole, go easy on her!" Angel cried out. I shot my hand out to him, stopping him from protesting any further. Stumbling to my feet, I wiped the blood from my chin and looked the bastard right in his daring eyes. I bet that wasn't even half his power.

I breathed heavily through my nose and, involuntarily, giggled my frustrations away. Instinct took control of me and with a speed I didn't realize I possessed, I flew to him in one swift motion, my left fist looking to connect with his jaw. He just barely blocked the attack, my punch landing in his left palm. He slid back a bit and I saw him attempting to land another punch with his free hand. I caught it just before it hit my stomach and acting quickly, I banged my forehead against his nose.

A cheap shot, sure, but there were no rules on the battlefield. Seeing the red drip from his nose excited me.

I didn't want to give him a moment's breath, quickly freeing myself and landing a quick, forceful double blow with both my fists to his chest and stomach. He didn't fly to the other wall like I had, but it was enough to create a major distance between us.

This is supposed to be the big bad Radio Demon? Perhaps I was just feeling full of myself, but my goodness, we'd barely started and I was already getting worked up. It was hard to keep the smile from growing on my face. Alastor's own grin didn't seem to be one of fun like mine, though. He seemed annoyed more than anything. I thinned my lips to suppress another giggle.

"It seems I may have misjudged you," he strains through gritted teeth.

'I told you before,' I signed. 'I'm one hell of a maid.'

I dashed towards him in a zigzag motion, then jumped in the air for a roundhouse kick. He saw it coming from a mile away, grabbing my ankle and looking to slam me to the ground. My reflexes save me, quickly recovering as I twist out of his hold to sweep his feet from under him. While in the air, I catch him by his jaw and slam him to the ground, straddling him in place. My blackened claws drew blood from his cheeks from under my gloves and his antlers grew larger and sharper, his pupils now taking the shape of radio dials. Saliva builds in my mouth seeing the damage I've inflicted on him. He was making me so hungry.

Devour him.

I choked, his hands suddenly gripping my neck with a force that could crush my windpipe. I jolted back to reality, but not fast enough to stop him from turning the tables on me. Before I could make sense of it, I was on my back and he roughly grabbed my face with one hand, repeatedly slamming my head to the wood floor. Pain feels like it's splitting me open and I want to bite him, but these damn cursed threads will barely let me open my mouth.

I could kill him. I knew I could. I could kill him right here, right now. I could drain him of all his spiritual essence, his power, his soul. Such a power could free me, could break my silence or at the very least, give me the power to exact revenge on the bitch responsible for all my years of suffering. Every feeling I've ever repressed was coming up in this fight and I was overwhelmed by emotions that contradicted each other. The biggest being my desire to eat him and the thrilling, chilling thought of him killing me. Eating me.

I wanted so badly to tear his flesh apart, to consume and become one with him. I felt I hated him, but I admired his ferocity. Tears welled in my eyes and I mistakenly thought he couldn't possibly show me any more teeth. He liked seeing me in pain. He probably thought it's what I deserved. And I couldn't have agreed more.

"You were warned of who you're dealing with," he growled. "Didn't anyone tell you? Do not mess with the Radio Demon."

When he removed his hand from my face, he seemed stunned. I was smiling so hard, the pulling of my threads made my lips bleed. In his moment of distraction, I grabbed hold of his antlers and with the help of my tail tucked around his slim waist, flung him off of me and into a rack of weapons nearby. I quickly stood to my feet, finally giving myself the chance to get my bearings.

'You talk too fucking much,' I signed with trembling hands. Perhaps this is what my years of beatings prepared me for. Adrenaline rushed through my veins and my tail thrashed wildly behind me. The scent of sweat and blood burned my nose, the taste of copper stained on my tongue, everything muscle burned and the room almost looked red. 'And you got blood all over my new dress.'

Alastor coughed up blood and held his chest. He is glaring daggers into me as he stands to his feet. "You ruined my new coat…," he croaked. "I'd say we're even."

Fuck this guy. 'I don't know about that, I'm kind of kicking your ass right now. Were you always this weak?'

A quiet "oh shit" from Husker I almost made me regret asking. Red symbols appear out of nowhere around him and he glitches out existence for a moment. The damage to my head must have my mind playing tricks on me.

"One minute!" Vaggie called out, reminding us of our five minute rule.

In the blink of an eye, the symbols were gone and he flew at me. I stood my ground, welcoming anything he had to throw at me. We exchanged a flurry of punches and kicks, one of us landing a hit on the other between every block. Unbeknownst to him, I had untied my apron and as a distraction, jumped over him while throwing it over his head. Holding both straps in my hands, I quickly looped them around his head and pulled them tight around his neck, effectively blinding and choking him. With any luck, his resemblance to a deer didn't just stop at his physical features, and my theory proved correct, as he seemed to freeze, even if just for a fraction of a second.

It was all the time I needed and taking the chance, I grounded myself after landing behind him, tightening the straps around his neck even more. His head was fully covered now, but not for long as he quickly clawed through the fabric with a gasp, freeing himself. He turned to backhand me, which I just barely dodged with a duck. While close to the ground, my left leg shot upward to his face, successfully connecting my heel to his chin.

"That's enough! Round one has ended!"

Alastor's grin went from an angry snarling to triumphant show of teeth in a matter of seconds, and I was glad to have caught it. There was a blast of black and green and I was suddenly trapped against a wall, being held up by my throat, arms and waist by some sort of tentacle. It was so cold against my skin it felt like it burned.

He was competent in hand to hand combat, yes. But now I understand that his true specialty, his true power, lies in the use of his magical abilities. With this discovery now in my back pocket, I'm now satisfied, having no reason to continue fighting. I've learned my lesson and more.

"Surrender." His voice still held his radio filter, but this was different than his usual speaking voice. It was deeper, scratchier, more disoriented. He'd grown much bigger, meeting me face to face, even though my feet thrashed and dangled below me. The grip of whatever the hell he held me with tightened. He was going to crush me just because the little deer didn't like to be called weak. I embarrassed him.

I smiled.

"Stupid Girl, Surrender Before You Lose Your Pathetic Life."

"Thorne, for fucksake, give it up! You're done!" Angel's words broke through my stubbornness. Watching him from the corner of my eyes, he was standing, visibly torn between wanting to help and not wanting to be pulverized. I found I didn't like seeing him this way. I didn't want him to get hurt, not because of me. When did get such a weak spot for him?

Alastor must have seen the defeat in my eyes. I was dropped to the floor and not a beat later, Angel was the first at my side.

"You fuckin' dummy! Why would you do that?! You know you couldn't win that fight!" His scolding amused me. I didn't think he cared that much. He just met me a month ago.

I don't remember much after that, but I do remember feeling incredibly satisfied with myself. I felt proud, as if I had won the fight. Maybe I did win something at that moment. But in the end, I just passed out in his arms, exhaustion and agony finally catching up with me.

"You're awake!"

My head throbbed like a possessed drum solo. Pain lanced through every muscle, an unwelcoming reminder of my recklessness. Angel's voice, usually a welcomed irritant, felt like a rusty nail on a chalkboard. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to breathe through the pounding.

"Keep it down, Legs. Poor girl's in enough pain." I tiredly looked over at Husker, who sat next to him. His eyes held a flicker of concern I hadn't expected. Everyone was here, crowded around the bed like vultures at a carcass, except for Niffty. Charlie, ever the angel, offered a weak smile. I've never woken up to so many concerned faces before.

"How're you feeling," she asked.

I managed a shaky thumbs-down sign. Then, the question that burned in my mind: I formed the letters 'J-A-M-B-A-L-A-Y-A' with my fingers, a questioning furrow of my brow.

Vaggie, who sat at the edge of the bed on my right next to Charlie, snorted at my one of many nicknames for Alastor. "Sulking in his tower and crying to Niffty. I haven't seen either of them since you kicked his ass." She stated. She seemed proud of that.

I hadn't realized he and Niffty were close. The crying part I didn't believe, but Sulking? I kicked his ass? I know I got a couple hits in, but I clearly remember losing the fight. Did I hit my head too hard? The question felt trivial compared to the throbbing in my head, but a sliver of morbid curiosity gnawed at me.

'I won?' I managed to ask.

"What? No, bitch, you got beat the fuck up." The harshness in Angel's response was laced with something else, a tremor in his voice that surprised me. Before I could decipher it, he continued, growing more agitated. "The hell were you thinkin'? Takin' on the Radio Demon of all people? He coulda ripped you apart!"

Oh boy, he looks really mad. I rolled my eyes, then signed, ' He couldn't. Rules.'

"Oh, fuck all that! He doesn't give a - "

Charlie cut him off with a gentle hand on his arm. Angel obviously still wanted to chew me out, but settled for chewing his bottom lip instead. Her gaze met mine, firm but gentle. "What Angel means to say is," she started, "We're glad you're okay."

Gratitude welled within me and I nodded. 'Thank you, your Highness. But Angel is right. It was stupid.'

"Thorne…" Charlie's eyes held a depth I wasn't used to, a flicker of something… understanding? Maybe? "You really had us all worried back there. It was pretty risky to provoke Alastor like that, but it was also pretty… brave. I have to know; why did you do it?"

The question hung heavy in the air. I winced as I turned to look away from them, suddenly feeling the humility of my actions erasing what little pride remained left of the fight. Opening up wasn't something I did. But seeing their concern, the way they rallied around me, a sliver of hope cracked through the wall I'd built around myself. I knew I couldn't hide forever. I don't think there would ever be a time I felt ready to open up to anyone, but I felt as though I owed them something. Even if it wasn't the whole thing, maybe they deserved to know some of my truth.

I took a shaky breath, closing my eyes again. Images flooded back - the suffocating weight of my past, the constant self-loathing. Alastor, in all his arrogant glory, was a cruel reflection of everything I despised in myself.

"Thorne… Please?"

With trembling hands, I began to sign a slow, deliberate story.

'I'm sorry for worrying you. All of you. But…' I paused, deciding to take the leap. 'I don't regret what I did at all.' This beginning seemed to stun the room. I sighed again, pushing through the ache as I continued.

'Please let me explain… All my life, I've only ever been allowed the weight of my own worthlessness. When I finally had the guts to leave my past behind me, I thought that feeling would be left with it. But it still makes me sick every day, and Alastor, he... Well, he's just a walking embodiment of all the worst things I already think of myself.'

I swallow the lump rising in my throat and ignore my aching arms. I wish my mouth worked. I wish I never made this stupid deal. I just wanted my voice back. With weak fingers, I continue.

'So when he says out loud what I already feel, I can't help but get so... angry. Every feeling I've ever repressed consumes me. And when I saw how defeated everyone looked when they didn't have it in them to face him, I don't know. I guess I just wanted to feel more in control?'

It was a question more than a statement. 'It was unbearable thinking he made any of you feel how I always did. I wanted to show you all that he wasn't as untouchable as he seemed to think he is. And... I wanted him to see me for what I was. Or at least what I'm fighting to become. Not some lowly imp little he could toy with.'

When I finished, silence descended heavy and thick with my hands falling to my lap. I couldn't bring myself to look at them, so I just stared up at the ceiling. This was all so embarrassing, I felt so naked. It wasn't everything, but it was more than I've ever told anyone in such a long time. Part of me just wanted to crawl back into my dark cave and forget any of this ever happened. It all felt stupid. I felt stupid.

A sniffle broke the silence and the sound made me flinch. It wasn't me.

"Charlie?" Vaggie sounded worried and slowly, I lowered my eyes to meet hers. Her own eyes were red-rimmed, a tear tracing a glistening path down her red cheek.

Well, this was awkward. In all of my pitiful life, I've never had anyone ever cry for me before. It felt… wrong. Backwards, even. And yet… a flicker of something warm bloomed in my chest, a forgotten ember rekindled.

I realized then that they were all here simply because they cared. Nothing more, nothing less.

"What are you fighting to become, Thorne," Charlie asked, her voice thick with emotion.

What a question. Tears threatened to fall when I finally answered.

'Good…'

My hands shake at the word. 'I just want to be a good person. But I didn't think it'd be so hard. I just wanted to…' And I can't finish. The shame, the self-doubt, it all threatened to drown me again. I buried my face in my hands, the sting of tears finally spilling over.

Four long arms wrapped around me then, a surprising warmth against my chilled skin. It was Angel who reached out first, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pulled me into a hug. It felt foreign, this affection, this closeness. I tense at the feeling. Alastor's wailing on me in the training room felt more natural than this. Bile threatens to crawl up my throat. I feel sick. But again, just like with Gus, I can't bring myself to pull away.

A forgotten emotion, a flicker of something like… safety? Yes, that must be what this is. I feel… safe with them. Everything hurts and even for my reckless actions, I am still gifted this pink and white shoulder to cry on. Angel rubs my back in an attempt to soothe my shaking, but my body burns. Both my old and new scars burn. My eyes burn, my heart burns, my throat burns. Everything burns in hell.

"I guess we have a lot more in common than I thought," he croaked. The chuckle that utters from him sounds so sad. He pulled back and looked at me, his own tears flowing down his face. This vulnerability in him mirrored my own. For the first time, I saw Angel not as a brash nuisance, but as someone who understood, maybe even… sympathized. And though I felt seen, the thought made me sicker.

"Y'know…" he started, "Someone once said a loser like me ain't that special for havin' my own shit sandwich."

A quick scoff puts out of me amidst my crying. 'Did you tell him that?' I signed the question to his beloved bartender and earned an amused grunt in response.

"He did." Angel wiped his own face, a watery smile breaking through the tears. "Now come on, loser. Sit up a little." He helped me sit up a little straighter, his touch lingering on my arm for a fleeting moment before he turned to Charlie.

"Alright, Princess, what's the big surprise?"

"Oh! That's right!" Charlie reached into her blazer pocket, her fingers brushing something. My breath hitched in my throat. A sudden suspicion gnawed at me. Was this some kind of punishment? A new, more humiliating task?

It was nothing of the sort. She instead pulled out an envelope, a single sheet of paper peeking out from the top. A beat of silence hung in the air as she placed it on my lap. My eyes narrowed, suspicion battling with curiosity.

"I actually wanted to give this to you for some time now, but uh… I couldn't decide how much I should give. Sorry, it took so long."

'What is it,' I asked.

"Well, you did take on the Radio Demon, even if you didn't exactly win." A few chuckles ripple through the room. "The point is, you put yourself out there for us. You've worked so hard the last month and showed courage and loyalty. That deserves to be recognized."

Hesitantly, I reached out a shaky hand and opened the envelope. Inside, a single check lay nestled against the soft paper. My eyes widened as I glanced at the amount scrawled across it. It was… a lot.

Like holy shit, that's a lot of money.

My eyes must've looked as though they were popping out of my head because the room erupted in laughter at my surprised reaction. I looked up at Charlie, then back to the check, then back to Charlie. Her smile was soft, wiping away her own lingering tears. There was that fire in her eyes, that burning passion, that demanded I raise my head. A determined stare that told me there was no room to doubt myself. She valued me. She valued my work. She saw me for what I was this whole time and still believed in me.

This was her dream. She is living it in real time, and she is proud. With all my mistakes, she is still proud of me.

"I'm really glad you came to us, Thorne," she said, her voice filled with a quiet strength.

The words washed over me, a balm on the raw wounds I'd exposed. I'm glad I came to them, too. Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for me after all. Hope for redemption. For better.

For warmth.