"Lucifer?"
The King of Hell had collapsed quite heavily after settling, to the point that Alastor actually had for the briefest moment thought he'd died. It was a reasonable concern because the devil had stopped breathing entirely. After moving him around a bit to check his pulse though, he felt the King suck in a breath that was rather shallow. Lucifer had warned him before that breaking contracts with powerful demons was quite draining on him, he hadn't expected it to be this much though. He knew personally that Lilith was a powerful foe, that was why he had made the original deal with her, but to put the devil of all people in this situation? Well, she was meant to be his equal, his partner, that was her job as the Queen of Hell. One she filled poorly apparently.
A burst of lightning lit up the Radio Tower like a white beacon and as it was followed by the trembling rolling of thunder, the steady sound of rain beating on the windows soon accompanied it. It had been a while since they had a true acid storm, one that was strong enough to cause a lightning storm with it anyway. Once a month or every other one they got horrible storms like this, but they were quite rare. Usually Hell was plagued with an unbearable heat instead, as one would expect from the original home of the Hellfire after all.
Alastor turned his head back around to King sprawled across him and hummed, the ears on top of his head flicking curiously. He should get him comfortable at least, then he can deal with the rest of this. Adjusting the other in his arms again he used his shadows to move them from the Radio Tower over toward his bedroom beneath it, carefully laying the devil on the bed and looking down at him. Alastor can't leave him lying there in his blood, if anyone walked in that would not be good and Vaggie had proven before she wasn't above using Keekee to break into his room.
Turning to the side he waved his hand at his feet and the shadow stretched up in front of him. "Go to the Apple Tower and get some clothes." The shadow nodded eagerly and vanished from sight. Alastor spared one more glance at his own bed before heading to the bathroom to get a cloth and a bucket of water.
It doesn't take him long to clean Lucifer up with the shadow's help. With how out of it the King was, he was rather easy to manipulate on the bed. He was easily rolled around, his clothes discarded to be burned and the cloth ran over his body. Alastor washed the blood from his skin, turning it back to that perfectly stone white complexion and carefully scrubbed the rest of the blood from his hair. When he was finally clean, he had the shadow help dress him in duck pajamas it brought. They were his favorite ones, the red ones with the yellow ducks. The creature probably knew that and fetched them purposefully. He really should do something about the freedom it thought it had to pick at him.
By the time they were done the storm had really started shaking Hell, the acid rain falling in heavy waves and the lightning striking close enough that Alastor wondered if the Radio Tower was acting like a beacon for it. It wasn't as if he couldn't protect the Hotel from being set on fire by lightning, but the fact the storm was raging this hard was what kept drawing his attention.
Another glance was spared at the bed, at the body barely breathing on top of it and the briefest thought started flickering through his mind. Whatever was blooming from it was quickly cut off by the sound of banging on his door.
"Alastor! Is my Dad in there!?"
The panic in the Princess' of Hell's voice had him crossing the room at a faster than average pace. Grasping the handle of the door he pulled it open and plastered a bright wide smile on his face. "Well hello, dear Charlotte! What can I do for you? Why the panic, darling?" That was exactly what this was, panic. He can read it on her face as easily as he could read any other. The young Hellborn was quite emotional when it came to literally anything in her life. Well, it was part of what made her so much fun.
Charlie's gaze darted around him searchingly but from the angle Alastor was blocking the rest of the room, she couldn't see the bed. He was doing it intentionally, he doesn't believe Lucifer would want his daughter to see him in such a state. "Al, the 666 elevators stopped working!" Huh, how odd, didn't Lucifer just fix them? Charlie seemed to catch something on his face because she waved her arm dramatically to elaborate. "Across all of Hell." Ah, that sounded much worse.
"I see, and what do you want me to do about that? Or your father, that is, since you were–"
"No, you don't understand! The elevators run off of Dad's magic!"
Oh.
How had he not known that? Lucifer had repeated, several times actually, that he was Hell. He made that quite clear in just about any argument that questioned what he was capable of. Perhaps he just hadn't thought the devil meant it as literal as it sounded. Apparently that was though. How much did run off of him, exactly? How much of himself was tangled in this place? The level of power that meant, and even more so how much of it was constantly being let out to control Hell–truly incredible. What a frightening individual he could be if he just let himself use it properly.
That was something he'd have to think about later considering Charlie looked like she was about to burst into tears again. She probably thought the worst had happened to Lucifer, which wasn't true. He'd just magically exhausted himself, to perhaps what was dangerous levels, but he had assured Alastor he would be fine. Stepping aside he held the door open all the way and allowed the Princess inside, closing it behind her the moment she was clear of it. No need for anyone else to stumble in after her, like a certain ex-wife.
Charlie noticed where her father was the moment she was in the room and immediately rushed her way over toward the bed, grabbing at her father's hand and feeling for a pulse. "What happened? You guys said you were just going out today! What did going out even mean!?"
"Darling, stop shouting, he's perfectly fine. He just exhausted himself." Alastor rolled his shoulders and made his way over toward the bed, standing beside the Princess as he tucked his hands behind his back. The lightning struck again and the thunder that rolled was loud enough to shake the entire Hotel.
This did not seem to lessen Charlie's distress. "Dad hates the acid rain storms, he always tries to keep them less violent."
This he had started figuring out on his own. The sudden storm that came the moment Lucifer was so heavily out and how bad it was becoming. That was certainly not a coincidence. "Charlie, dear, how much of Hell runs off of your father exactly?"
The young woman shuffled and rubbed her face with her hand not clinging to her father's. "Most of it. The sins support their own realm quite a bit, but all of it is still tangled around Dad's magic. He told me once, that after he lost his halo and his magic was so uncontrolled that he fed it into Hell to try and lessen the weight of it. Apparently doing that helped him control everything easier."
Alastor heard bits of that story too, when Lucifer explained how his magic turned on him after he fell, the weight of it far too much with his body changing to fit his new home. Feeding it into the domain must have been what created Hell itself. Now he's tangled himself around this place so deeply that his death, or even a magical exhaustion like this, was nearly enough to unravel the realm itself. For no one to notice, or at least Sinners like him, he must not have lost control like this in a long time. Thousands of years at least. Undoubtedly the Sins were going to notice, he hoped that didn't become a problem.
All of the 666 elevators stooping across the entirety of Hell itself was going to be the biggest indication that something was wrong, uncontrolled storms aside. There was nothing Alastor could do about that though, their agreement allowed him to pull on Lucifer's magic, it didn't go the other way around. Even if he wanted to try and give him back some of his energy to fix this problem, he couldn't. Besides, his magic wasn't like whatever was flowing through Lucifer himself. It was just a collision of several things. Saving Alastor's life and then breaking his contract. Unfortunately, he just needed time to recover.
"What did he do to end up like this? I've never seen Dad exhaust himself to this level. His pulse feels really weak."
He noticed that too. "Unfortunately dear, I don't believe your father would want me to tell you right now. You can ask him yourself when he wakes up, doesn't that sound more fair? And he will wake up, he's just tired. Not surprising if he's literally expending himself across the entirety of this infernal domain."
This did not appear to please Charlie very much. She had a rather complicated look on her face, as if she was tempted to push but another glance at Lucifer drained that fight from her. Probably because of the last time she pushed too hard and kicked her father from the building entirely. Her father had a point then, that as the King of Hell there were things she couldn't be a part of. Though he really was just pushing off the explanation of her mother having owned his soul. That was not a conversation he wanted to have.
"Fine. But one of you are explaining to me what happened." Charlie took her hand back from Lucifer and turned on the bed, looking out the window at the practical monsoon that was happening. "If Dad doesn't get his magic back soon, we might have a problem. Mom went to talk to Uncle Ozzie about working to free the people trapped in the elevators, but no one can do anything about the storm."
Lilith… helping? How very odd indeed. Alastor hummed and tapped his claws against his wrist. "I'll keep an eye on him darling, but I'm afraid there isn't much we can do but wait this out. Hell will just have to hold itself together for now. Besides, this is eternal damnation. Perhaps it will thicken the skins of the Sinners! Or melt it right off the pathetic ones." What a thrilling idea that was, all the Sinners screaming and writhing in pain in the streets, how he'd love to see it.
Charlie sniffled and Alastor turned his focus back on her, tilting his head as the Princess stood from the bed, wiping the rest of her tears from her face. "I'm going to go see if I can help Mom, will you let me know if Dad wakes up?"
"Certainly, do be safe out there. Unforeseen events can tend to bring out the worst in people." A fight for survival is such a thrilling thing indeed.
He walked the young woman to the door and showed her out before swinging it back shut and turning around. The shadow had popped up the moment that Charlie left Lucifer's side and started working its way onto the bed worriedly, tendril hands running along the King's face and poking his temple. Alastor narrowed his gaze at it and started making his way over toward the chair by the fireplace. "I am not that worried." The shadow gave him a look that could only be defined as doubt.
He was, perhaps, a little worried. Alastor had not anticipated that doing what he did would take so much energy from Lucifer. He had said that doing it would knock him out but this seemed like more than that. For a long enough amount of time he had stopped breathing entirely and Alastor had thought something was wrong. Now though, he was starting to become certain about what that is. Lucifer had given too much of himself out, especially with everything he had been doing lately and then he gave even more to break that contract with Lilith. Not that he had asked him to, but Lucifer has been certain it was the only choice and he did have a point. The contract only felt like it was going to become more dangerous to keep. If he had known it would lead to this–he should have told the other not to do it.
How long he was going to be stuck like this was what was truly worrying. How quickly does an Archangel regain their energy? Especially magical energy? Alastor had never drained himself entirely before, never had a reason to, but he pushed himself harder than he should and felt the pull of exhaustion. It takes him, perhaps at most, a day or so to recover his own magical energy.
But what about someone like the King of Hell? Whose power levels were quite frankly bottomless seeming. Not that they clearly were but the levels seemed unfathomable if he could do all of that. Alastor glanced back at the bed again and pressed his lips together, watching the shadow curl around the King protectively and relax against him. Pathetic. Seeing no other choice than to just wait it out he sat down in his chair and popped a book into his hand.
By the time that Alastor was halfway through Dracula by Bram Stoker the next interruption on his door occurs. A very loud and repeatedly irritating knock sounded and when he didn't answer it quick enough the banging continued at an even louder volume. Snapping his book shut he stood from the chair and made his way back over toward his door, yanking it open and blinking at the woman on the other side.
"Ah, good evening your Majesty, how might I be of service?"
"Alastor." Lilith narrowed her spiteful gaze at him and then as Charlie had done, darted it around his head. He's so glad she's shorter than him. Maybe not by much, but shorter is still shorter. "Where is he?"
Cracking his neck to the side, Alastor grinned. "My apologies, I don't know what you mean."
"Don't be irritating. I was married to him for several millennia, I know what it looks like when he drops." So this has happened before? He wonders how long ago. "You two are stupid, breaking that deal we had like this. There are few people who can rival Lucifer in strength, and even less who can actually beat him. My power might not be grand enough to overcome his own, but I am far from weak."
Already aware of this, it being the entire reason he agreed to that contract, Alastor simply blinked at her. "You point, dear?"
Her delicate painted lips thinned in irritation at him. "He could be out for weeks. Let me look at him."
Let her, who clearly had some vindictive situation going on, anywhere near the King of Hell when he's in his weakest state? Alastor didn't think so. Nothing good sounding could come from that, and he had made an agreement with Lucifer before the devil collapsed. He assured him that if Lilith came for them, he would handle it. Maybe not in those exact words but it was close enough to one for him. The last thing he had any intention in doing was breaking his word and allowing her to–whatever it was she was thinking of doing. Probably not murdering him but at least making this worse.
On top of that, why would he trust her after she told him to stand there and let Michael nearly cut him in half? Loyalty might not mean much to her, but Alastor took great honor in his own. He defended the Hotel, he fought for the Residents, he defended Charlie's dream, he's gone to great lengths for this deal with Lucifer and now protecting him. Loyalty means far more to him than it ever would the woman in front of him.
The grin on his face widens even more and he shrugs. "No." The door swings shut, he flips the locks on it and spins back around to return to his chair. The shadow was watching him around Lucifer's head, its red gaze narrowed at him. "I am not sure how wise that was, no, but the alternative was allowing her in here and that was certainly not happening. Just go back to guarding his Majesty, I'll handle the rest." Ever alert and refusing to relax even a moment, he pulled his book back out and settled in for a long night. Let what come may, he would defend the devil in his bed.
During the night the storm that was raging across the Pride Ring didn't get any better. Alastor was actually quite certain it was getting worse the longer he focused on the windows that continued to tremble with each flash of lightning. The power had been lost at one point across the entire city, leaving them only with his magic to power the Hazbin Hotel but the rest of Pride without any. Vox must have been having a fit over that and he briefly let the pleasure that thought brought him wash over him. He had finished Dracula before the night turned into day and fetched another book, this one The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Not his typical type of book, but it was rather enjoyable.
They had found another problem with Lucifer being out, whatever support he gave to the other Rings had been yanked away with his unconscious state and a bit of chaos had started shaking their ends of Hell. The King of Hell's phone had been going off endlessly during the night and Alastor had taken to reading whatever came across it out of curiosity. Apparently the Ring of Envy was being tormented with blood tsunamis that Leviathan was attempting to quell. The Ring of Wrath was about to be burned away by volcanoes that were erupting. A plague had actually broken out in Sloth and Belphegor apparently hadn't slept in over twelve hours which, from what she texted Lucifer, made her very miserable.
Hell was unraveling. It was impressive how much of their punishment down here Lucifer was actually taming back. The damned Sinners and Hellborns had no idea how much worse their suffering could actually be. Until now, perhaps.
Lucifer would probably tell him he wasn't supposed to be getting as much joy out of this as he actually was. But he really was. He was tempted to take some of the calls that came through on the phone just to hear the suffering and anger of the Sins, but he figured that was probably more something the King should deal with when he woke up. Which, Alastor realized, he was starting to hope was soon. Not that he missed having the devil attach himself to him and fawn over him, absolutely not. Those were pathetic and useless emotions, not something he should actually be experiencing.
It feels so unnatural to have him laying in the bed, completely still and barely breathing. Alastor knows what it feels like when Lucifer is sleeping, when he's content and comfortable. They've spent many nights together, the King pressed up against him and clinging to him, his tail looped around Alastor somewhere, his hands playing with his hair. He fidgets in his sleep, his tail twitches when he dreams, and he tends to overheat when there's too many blankets on them.
Now, wrapped around the shadow and all of Alastor's blankets on top of him, he laid there entirely motionless, his chest barely rising and falling. There was something wrong about it and he finds he doesn't like it.
Since when did wanting to possess and own the King of Hell seem to turn into something else?
There's a shift in the air, a feeling that's actually rather familiar, and as Alastor closed his book gently a spinning golden portal popped up right in the middle of his room. Immediately the Radio Demon was on his feet, the book vanishing from his hand for his cane instead. As the figure stepped through it he swung the cane out in an arch, throwing his tendrils of shadows out at them. The angel stepped to the side, wide blue eyes tracking the movement as his bookshelf was speared in half by his own magic.
They blinked at the shattered remains, turned their head toward him and Alastor blinked back. Silence. A long quiet moment where only the radio static from him filled the space. With another pop of static Alastor slowly started pulling his magic back into himself and he dragged the familiar wide grin up onto his face.
"To be honest, I was expecting a much different Archangel."
"I… can see that." Their gaze again darts toward the bookshelf before slowly returning to him. "And I'm rather worried about which one…"
"Michael."
"Ah…"
Swinging his cane up behind his back, Alastor tapped it against his shoulder blades. "Saint Gabriel, what might I do for you? To come all the way to Hell, you must be here for a rather grand reason."
"You don't–" an uncomfortable grimace pulled onto his face. "Just Gabriel is fine. I was actually tracking Lucifer?" His gaze darts around the room and then lands on the figure on the bed. "The drastic and unraveling changes to Hell had alerted Heaven, I worried something happened to him. Seems I'm not that far off." He started moving toward the bed and Alastor swung his cane back out, blocking the angel's path with it.
His neck cracked to the side and the smile pulled threateningly onto his face. "What do you intend on doing?"
Gabriel looked at the cane crossed in front of his chest and then up to the demon. "Checking on him. As I'm sure you can see for yourself, just by looking out your window, he no longer has control over Hell."
Yes, Alastor has figured that much out. His own head turns toward the bed, where Lucifer was still motionless on it and then back to the Archangel. Out of any of them, the King had said he trusted this one at the very least, and he had aided them greatly during the conversation at the Heaven Embassy. Perhaps, at the very least, he doesn't mean anything malicious in his aid. If any of the others had shown up, this would be a different story. He slowly lowered the cane back down and though the smile stayed, it certainly sharpened.
Without needing prompting, Gabriel continued the rest of the way over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. "What happened?"
Moving to stand beside them and certainly hovering in what he hoped was a menacing way, the Radio Demon motioned between them. "He broke Lilith's contract on my soul." After having to pull holy energy from him, but he'll keep that end of the situation to himself. Gabriel felt Lucifer's forehead, his pulse, and then–did something weird.
Alastor narrowed his eyes as the Archangel formed a golden sigil in the air and laid it over Lucifer's chest, lighting his body up to the point he was certain he could see every organ in the King's body. The sigil moved, hovering over the center of his chest and then vanished entirely before the demon could figure out what exactly they had been looking at. "Lilith is not your average Sinner, she is by no means ever meant to be underestimated. On top of that, your contracts you demons make that involve souls are stronger than typical ones. Her hold on you was not simple." Gabriel motioned toward Lucifer's body. "He's more than exhausted himself, something else has attacked his soul. I'm going to take a guess here and say whatever it was, is in part why you wanted to skewer my brother alive?"
He does not like dealing with clever angels. Instead of answering, the Radio Demon simply hummed and drifted his gaze up to Lucifer's face. Apparently Michael's magic was just as rude as the Archangel himself.
Beside him he hears Gabriel let out a sigh. "When will they stop fighting?" Never, Alastor wants to voice, but holds himself back. The amount of people who blame Lucifer for everything that happened in Eden was insurmountable. Lucifer himself even voiced that his brothers would never see or trust him. Hatred, from his understanding, runs deep through this family. Mistakes, to the Archangels who are meant to uphold the Seven Holy Virtues, are a one and done thing. They don't appear to believe in forgiveness, which ironically is what Zadkiel was known for. Not that any of them appeared to own the tiles they were actually known for well.
Other than perhaps the one sitting in front of him.
"Pardon my questioning, Sir, but are you not the second in command of the Archangels?"
The other spares him a brief glance before turning back to Lucifer, waving his hand and opening a smaller portal beside him. "That doesn't hold as much weight as you seem to think it does. At least not in the face of Michael. But, technically speaking, yes. The four of us, the eldest who were born with Lucifer, have more governing say over Heaven. Michael, myself, Raphael and Uriel are the oldest. The others, Azrael, Cassiel and Zadkiel are our little brothers. Zadkiel is actually the youngest of the Archangels."
Fascinating. They have such a strange system working up there. It's like having a Royal Family dictating everything but there seems to be no true order other than submitting to Michael. Why does he have as much pull as he appears to? Is it because he actually makes use of it? It's the same thought he's had over Lucifer before. If he just let himself be the King he knows the devil can be, things would be different. "Another question if I may. Lucifer seems to believe that Raphael has more sway over Michael than any of your other siblings. Is he right?"
Gabriel hummed and plucked a small blue looking vial out of the portal, vanishing it a moment later. He yanked the cork of it off and nodded finally. "Michael and Raphael have always been close. What does he want Raphael to do though?" The vial is shifted in his hand and the Archangel looked over toward Alastor. "Help me sit him up, this will improve his health."
Well, he hasn't let Alastor down yet. If anything wakes Lucifer up quicker, he'd be a lot happier too. Moving over to the bed he grasped the devil gently and eased up on the bed, sliding to sit behind him and supporting his weight. Holding the King with his arms wrapped around his waist, he watched as Gabriel put the vial to his lips and gently tipped it back to get it in his throat. "Lucifer wants a meeting with the Archangels, and he wants it in Heaven, he feels like his words will hold more weight up there than they would in the Heaven Embassy."
A tight smile pulled on the angel's face and he nodded his head. "I see. So he wants to be unchained from Hell for this. Don't tell me what he wishes to talk about, I'm afraid it might swing my judgment and I don't wish to damage his chances at whatever he needs." That was, perhaps, the most considerate thing he's heard any of these angels say. Though he thinks it's stupid too. At least he knew himself well enough to know he might not be able to be impartial to whatever Lucifer needs. Not that, truthfully, he thinks any of them can be impartial when it comes to the King of Hell.
"Do you think that Raphael will help him though? Lucifer seems to believe that his brother hates him. Actually, he and Leviathan seem to believe that." Alastor lowered his gaze down toward the Fallen Angel in his arms and adjusted him a bit, holding him closer. "Leviathan said that Lucifer is the only one who's ever made the Angel of Healing wield his sword violently."
Gabriel pushed the cork back onto the empty vial and lowered his gaze to his lap thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, the Sin of Envy is not wrong. Raphael is–still very unhappy about that fight in Heaven. But, as I told Lucifer in the Embassy, I genuinely believe he'd want to talk to him. Or maybe that's just hopeful thinking." He does truly look like he was disappointed at that, as if it bothers him that the two of them won't get along. Maybe it does. Gabriel struck him as the type to want to hold his family together, clutch at it desperately and try to stitch the seams of it back together.
Alastor doesn't know if that's entirely possible. Especially after Michael clearly was attempting to unravel whatever Lucifer is up to and drag him back down again. The gash across his chest and the reason he earned that was more than enough proof of the Archangel's intentions. "Do you think that Michael will unchain him from here to argue his point in Heaven? With or without Raphael's influence in the situation?"
"No." Entirely seriously, straightforward, and without a single bit of hesitation. He didn't even blink when he said it. "Not a single soul wants him up there. Even God himself doesn't want Lucifer back in Heaven. This, to everyone in Heaven, was the only fate that was destined for him. A realm of his own crafting, of eternal suffering, is what he deserves after what happened in the Garden. You will never argue a different scenario for him."
"I don't care about that." His arms shift around the King again, pulling Lucifer tighter against him. "Hell is what it is meant to be and I don't have a problem with that, nor does he wish to leave it. I don't even care if you self-righteous angels want him up there or not. I asked if you will all let him up there to defend his point like you would anyone else."
Lucifer had said that Gabriel wouldn't help them, that he would never make Michael unchain him from this pit. He had some lengthy, elaborate and long scheme for figuring out how to do that. From blackmailing Raphael (which sounded so unwise) to holding a long argumentative meeting in the Heaven Embassy to force everyones hand in the room to make Michael let him go up there. It was long and pointless and frustrating when they had the literal Voice of God on their side.
He told him before. Taking a chance is sometimes the easiest way to get what you want. Forcing the people around you, who you know the best, who have power–use the assets available to you.
The Archangel takes a tense breath and raises his gaze to Lucifer's face first, looking at him as if he was attempting to see through him before sliding his eyes up further to Alastor. "What do you want me from, Radio Demon?"
What a stupid question. He narrowed his eyes at the angel and felt the smile twist on his face. "I want you to use that power available to you, to make Michael treat him like you would anyone else. That doesn't sound unreasonable to me. To expect him, devil or not, to receive the same treatment as the rest of you. He is still your brother, no matter what he did, even if you see it as a mistake or not. He deserves, especially after as long as you have had him chained down here, to at least be treated like a person and not a caged animal for your Zoo."
A tight smile pulled on Gabriel's face and Alastor resisted the urge to sneer at him, clawed fingers dragging across the duck pajamas that he wanted to twist in his grip. Maybe he should have impaled this cowardly useless bird after all. He watched the other stand from the bed and tug his coat back into place before waving his hand and popping a golden parchment into it. Gabriel placed it down on the bed and nodded his head in Alastor's direction. "Have him fill this out, I will get him his meeting in Heaven." His hands fell back to his side and as he turned to look at Lucifer again. He seemed to take in the way that Alastor was clutching at him, the way the King's head was resting comfortably on his chest. "You really care about him."
Lucifer had told him that he was fond of him, that he truly cared about him, words that he threw around so easily whenever he wanted to. For Alastor–he thinks he's starting to really understand what those words mean. Fondness and care.
Not wanting a reply apparently, Gabriel turned away from him and waved his hand to pop the portal to Heaven back open. Before he stepped through it his gaze darted toward the window of Alastor's room and smiled softly. "Your storm has stopped, by the way." Turning away he stepped through the light, the doorway to Heaven snapping shut behind him.
When he found himself alone again Alastor let out an annoyed breath and turned his head to Lucifer. Leaning toward him he tucked his face against that golden head of hair and breathed in the apple scented shampoo. "You're far more trouble than you look."