"Al-aas-tooooor! Come ouut to pla-ay!" Wyr giggled wildly, her fingers cramping as they cupped her mouth, bellowing up to the radio tower. It hung off the side of the hotel, red lights shining against the darkness. Once again Wyr was reminded of how much she missed the blue of the night sky. A shooting star, a comet, anything, anything would have made her happy…Anything other than the glowing pentagram.

Her tongue tasted like ash, which was strange because she'd drunk enough of Mal's whiskey that she shouldn't have tasted anything, but no, just ash. Her stomach felt filled with ashes too. Which was why she wanted to see her friend. She hadn't actually had a moment to sit with him, to check in on him since she'd found out he was back…And after everything that happened today, she could use a chaotic friend.

For a moment her bag sat heavy on her shoulder.

"Aaal-aaaaas-toooooooor! It's your Wyyyyrrrr! I might be a liiiii-ttle TIP-sy!" She cackled as she held her hands together, shifting in range from each other. "I'm hungryyyy! For bloooo-oooood!"

The hotel was lit up inside, but the idea of dealing with any redeemers right now sounded like a lot of work. Work Wyr wasn't invested in right now. She wanted to hang out with her friend, and then go kill that guy from today. If he hadn't pissed her off in the first place, she wouldn't have fought with Lucifer. Then maybe she wouldn't feel so fucking guilty, and maybe wouldn't feel so fucking repressed. The fallen angel's face when she'd said no to lunch had been a punch to the gut. But the idea of having to sit and be…normal for an hour or two over lunch with the man she'd been in- No…The demon she'd- No.

Wyr moaned to herself as she pulled out the bottle of whiskey she'd purloined from O'Malley's. She tore the cork out with her teeth and took a swig.
Sitting and having lunch with the demon she had always thought was fuckable, and had been in far too close a proximity for too long today, was too much. The idea of Lucifer, and all those emotions was too much. Wyr needed a dose of reality.

"And to what do I owe this late-night pleasure of your company, my dear?" Wyr's hands shot into the air as she shrieked with celebration. The whiskey sloshed over and splashed down her top as she turned. Alastor stood in the darkness with her, impeccably dressed in a red housecoat, looking beautifully dapper. Wyr went to throw her arms around the radio demon. Her friend! Her best friend? Or maybe just her oldest friend? He was stiff under her touch but held her upright until she pulled away. O'Malley wouldn't be happy…She was Wyr's best friend. Especially since Alastor had disappeared.
"Alastor! You're here! I missed you! Wanna drink? I have whiskey!" She brought the bottle down and swallowed another burning mouthful. She wanted it to burn her throat on the way down, but nothing burned as much as inhaling fire so what was the point? Her point? The point of drinking? Oh! She had a point! "On second thought, there might only be enough for meeeeeee."
"I'm quite alright my dear. You can drink enough for the both of us!" Wyr cackled and booed at her friend.
"That's sad Alastor! I thought we could get smashed and go kill a guy. He needs killing. I wanna kill him." Alastor's interest was piqued. Wyr could almost see the bloodlust in his red eyes. Her friend was starting to blur into a red smear if she was being honest.
"Oh? Do you want to kill someone? Would this have something to do with the current news cycle?" In a flash, Alastor was wearing his red coat and dressed for going out again. He twirled his microphone in his hand, making Wyr's mind dance as she watched it. Rather than answering, she took another long pull from the bottle.
"You buying into Vox's work now huh?" Alastor scoffed at her.
"Who needs the slimy little television when I have my own sources? Come now dear, you were disappointed weren't you?"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

She stamped her hoof, hoping Alastor saw just how serious she was being. When she looked up he was doing a piss poor job at hiding his snicker.
"Can we just go kill this guy?" She huffed, crossing her arms. Alastor held out his elbow, sketching a mock bow. Wyr cackled again as she tucked her hand in. Always such a gentleman. Maybe she wouldn't stay mad at him then.
Wyr didn't notice as Alastor led her away from the hotel, the faces pressed to the window panes, watching in confusion. She clumsily kept up with the radio demon as they wandered down the hill and into the city, filling him in on all the events of the day.
"-So then I told him I couldn't have lunch with him because I had a thing. A thing! I lied to the king of hell about a thing! Mal says he probably didn't buy it." Her voice dropped into a low groan. "He looked so…sad. I made the king of hell sad Alastor! You told me not to stick my hoof, in my mouth, but I did!" Fat, watery tears filled her eyes and Wyr sniffed loudly, bemoaning herself. "And now I can't stop crying! I feel like an idiot!"
Alastor walked along beside her, patting her hand as they walked, humming in agreement in the right places and nodding when she looked at him. He was such a good friend. Really truly.

"So you went and saw your little pirate friend, hmm? And now we're off to do a little bloodletting?" He chuckled. "You can be so bloodthirsty my darling." Wyr snorted loudly.
"If he hadn't of been a dick, I wouldn't have gotten mad at Lucifer! If I hadn't gotten mad, we wouldn't have fought. If we hadn't fought, then we wouldn't have made a deal! If we hadn't made a deal, he wouldn't have teased me like that with an innocent kiss like that!" Wyr's fists were clenched, and she wanted another drink.

Alastor pulled her to a stop in the middle of the street, radio screeching filling the void of noise around them.
"You…Made a deal, with the king?" Alastor's voice barely made it past the snap and crackle of radio waves, his shadow growing and writhing in the dim street lights. His eyes had begun to glow and his neck had cracked at an odd angle as he stared at her. Wyr patted his arm, turning away to burp into her arm. She sniffed, and made a face, smelling her breath. That was gross. She dialled up the smile she gave her friend to a bright, toothy grin.

"Yu-P"

She popped the P as she said it and grinned wider. Alastor's shadows were growing denser, the grip on her arm more sinister.
"What sort, of deal?" Wyr flapped her hand at him again, admiring the way his antlers had grown, towering above them like bare tree branches. She reached out a hand, trying to touch one with her fingers.
"I teach him about the city, he does my paperwork!"
In an instant, the void of darkness and radio waves diminished, leaving Alastor, not so demonic now, grinning down at her as she stumbled, hooves slipping on the pavement.
"Is that all? Well now, why not say so sooner, my dear? Now, come come…We can't be out murdering all night long. I need my beauty sleep!"

"That's what I'm saying!"

Wyr yawned, covering it with the clean crook of her elbow. There weren't many spots left that were clean now, but she felt as though she'd gotten through to the sinner who'd decided not to pay her. Alastor walked beside her, looking far more impeccably clean, despite having seen his hand wrist deep in intestines half an hour ago. Wyr's head had started to feel a lot more fuzzy as the night wore on, and the iron smell of blood was having an adverse effect on the whiskey that was sloshing around in her stomach.
"Well, my dear, I don't think you'll be having any more problems about payment for this extermination."
Wyr tried for a smile, grateful Alastor had come with her, but the nausea was rising in her gut. He looked more like a red smear in her eyes than an actual person. Made her wonder if she was carrying around her radio rather than talking to the demon himself. But a radio couldn't expertly hack out one's liver and parcel it away for later as a gift of sweetmeats for another friend. And Wyr certainly wasn't interested in eating liver. Oh. She held a hand to her mouth, bile rising at the thought of liver. That would taste terrible. What if Lucifer had taken her to lunch and she'd been served liver?

"I'm going to be sick."

It came out more like 'imgnsick' but Alastor was out of her way in a slip of shadows.

It was all the warning she gave Alastor, and turned to the street, heaving. The whiskey burned more coming up than going down, the disgusting taste of bile and alcohol mixing and making tears spring to her eyes. At least it didn't taste like ashes anymore. Claws delicately lifted her hair back from her face as Wyr heaved again. Eyeing the puddle in the street, she'd probably brought up the entire bottle she'd downed and then the one she'd bought at the bar. She must have looked bad if Alastor had decided to hold her hair back.

When she finished, wiping her mouth on the hem of her shirt, she swayed, almost tumbling forward into the disgusting puddle. Alastor caught her arm and tucked it back into the crook of his elbow.

"Come now, dear. Let's get you back to the hotel where I can keep an eye on you."
"I can go home." Aastor's voice was disapproving.
"Hm, and choke on your own vomit and die? I have need of you in Hell a bit longer my dear. And choking on your own bile is an awful way to die. You need something flashy!" Wyr moaned and leaned heavily into Alastor. He didn't seem to mind her bloodstained everything and the smell of sick. He probably did mind, but her head pounded and seeing straight felt like her eyes were getting sucker punched over and over again. Her stomach still roiled against the smell. She must have stunk. Wyr had no energy to fight the demon as he led her back to the hotel.

She stumbled along beside him and as they reached the building, her eyes squeezed shut, pain lancing through her head at the bright lights that pierced her eyelids. She clutched onto Alastor, who led her upstairs, and more stairs, and more stairs, and she tripped.
"Fuck!" Alastor's sigh was barely audible.
"Don't wake the patrons dear." She whined, rubbing the knee that had cracked into the stairs.
"I can't see" She moaned. "It's too bright."
Alastor tutted but led her on.

When Wyr finally heard the quiet click of a door she sagged against Alastor. When they stepped through the doorway, Wyr cracked her eyes and sighed in relief at the low-lit room. Alastor stood at the door.
Wyr eyed the room, the four-poster bed with fluffy-looking blankets, the nice carpet covering the floor, and two bedside lamps that were giving off a low red glow. She looked to the only other door in the room and looked to Alastor.
"A bathroom. Go brush your teeth." A trickle of something she didn't like to name licked up her spine.
"Will you be here? When I finish?"
"Brush your teeth." She pouted but stumbled to the bathroom. She hesitated before flipping on the light and sighed in relief as the light came on also a low, dark red. She fumbled around on the bathroom counter. It was far nicer than her cramped little bathroom. It was twice the size, and the shower had enough space to fully turn around in.
She found the spare toothbrushes and toothpaste on the counter and set to work, brushing her teeth, rinsing and moaning in relief. The minty taste was so much better than bile and alcohol and yeah, she still tasted blood. Her eyes kept going to the shower.
Wyr poked her head out of the bathroom and Alastor was now sitting at the small round table, hiding an ornate fireplace she must have missed before.
"Shower." He didn't respond and Wyr took that as permission to go ahead.

Back in the bathroom, she turned the knobs and instant hot water steamed out of the shower head. It felt like the lap of luxury. Wyr's shower took minutes to warm up. She peeled off her clothes, wrinkling her nose at the smell of them. In the red light, you couldn't see the stains in the black clothes, but she knew, judging by the stiffness of the fabric that they probably wouldn't be making a return to her wardrobe. They should probably be burned.

The shower, blissfully hot enough to scald her skin melted the scent of alcohol and blood away. The small soaps and shampoos scrubbed out the dried blood caked into her skin and hair, leaving her smelling somewhat like crappy artificial clean, but at least made her actually clean. The hotel towels were also fluffy and dry, wicking away the last of the water on Wyr's skin. She scrubbed at the fur on her legs, trying to get them as dry as possible so she didn't drip all over the room. Still touch damp, Wyr stared at her pile of dirty laundry in the corner. She poked her head out of the bathroom, steam leaking into the bedroom. The shower had left her more sober than when she'd first come to get Alastor, and now instead of a smear of red, she could make out his features, the ever present smile, as he sipped from a teacup.

"I don't have anything to wear." She said pathetically. Alastor didn't move, but gestured with his free hand to the bed, where a bundle of clothes waited. Wyr wandered over, keeping her towel tucked in tight to her chest. Her hooves sank into the plush carpet and she wondered what it would have felt like if she'd had human feet still.
On the bed sat a set of silk pyjamas. Very different from her ratty over sized t-shirt she'd stolen from an ex a few decades back. They felt like water when she picked up the full length sleeved shirt.
"'Spensive" she mumbled.
"Get dressed and get into bed. Some of us need to work in the morning." Wyr cackled as she got dressed.
"'N just what does a hotela-hoteli-hoterlia-hotelia do?" Alastor didn't sigh, didn't give any indication he was put out by her drunken mumbles. She crawled into the bed, snuggling down under the fluffy blankets. The mattress was just as comfortable as her one at home, but maybe she'd have to upgrade her blankets. Alastor got up from the table and walked to the bedside.
"Go to sleep dear. You'll be ever so hungover tomorrow." Wyr pouted into the duvet and looked up at Alastor.
"You're mad at me." He blinked slowly.
"Whatever made you think that?"
"You're being grumpy at me. You wouldn't drink with me."
"I helped you torture and murder a soul tonight. Wasn't that fun?" Wyr rolled her eyes and Alastor's eye twitched. He walked away from the bed and picked up her bag she'd dropped by the door. With the utmost care, he set it down on the bedside table.

"We're friends right Alastor?"

There was a thick silence between them in which Wyr started to question all the years the two had spent in each other's company.
"We're old friends Wyr. You…" He shook his head. "One of few." With a flourish of green, a radio appeared on the nightstand and Alastor flicked the dial. Soft piano echoed in the room and Alastor didn't say anything more as he left Wyr, snuggled in the sheets. She didn't call out of him again, instead waiting to hear the door click shut before she reached blindly for her bag. She shoved her hand in and almost automatically closed around the odd duck shape, pulling it out.

She could barely see the duck in this light, but could feel the ridges of the rubber, the tiny top hat that sat on its head. Her mind swirled, thoughts muddy and sluggish, still infected by the whiskey in her blood. She pulled the toy down under the covers and curled in on it. Sleep tugged at her as the piano number continued to play. The look on Lucifer's face as he'd handed it to her, open and warm and nervous, like she'd deny wanting it…Made her feel warm inside. He'd brought her a gift, and after everything she'd put him through had still wanted to give her something so precious. She was touched and so ashamed of herself. No wonder he disliked Sinners. She was mostly a stranger and she'd torn his head off.

Their fight had been broadcast with the evening news, popping up on sinstagram within minutes of Lucifer taking her into the sky. So humiliating. It had been on repeat at O'Malley's until the pirate had turned the whole television off. Wyr had practically degraded the king in the street for the whole of Hell to hear. It had been on every station. It would take centuries for this to die down, and the hit to Lucifer's reputation would be catastrophic. The general populace had thought he was just a recluse, but now…Would they tear him down because she'd basically given everyone permission to do so?

Lucifer would have every right to tell her the deal was off. His message sat waiting on her phone, and she wondered what he was doing now. Had he stayed up late ignoring her lack of reply? Had he seen the news and was deciding how to punish her?
Wyr was almost sorry she'd run out of whiskey. The sad side of drunk was almost worse than being sober.
Wyr yawned, snuggling deeper into the sheets. She'd make up for it. She'd let some blood, now she needed to get laid, and not picture the king of hell, then she'd be ready to see him again and she could apologise.

Lucifer yawned widely, giving up on stifling just how exhausted he was. His spine cracked as his arms swung up in the air. He'd only collapsed in bed when the sky outside had started brightening. Charlie had grown used to his terrible sleeping habits, Hells, she had probably grown up knowing about them all these years. Of all the things he missed, the night sky being chased away by the dawn in Heaven was one that always hurt. Red skies and a constant haze over the city made his heart ache with a daily pain. A red night, just didn't help him want to fall asleep. He wondered what Wyr thought of the skies above the Pride Ring. Did she wonder if the other rings were different? Did she miss her life? Her work table yesterday had said volumes about the sort of life she'd led as a human Above. Her work was typical of the witchcraft back in the late 1500s. Her world wouldn't have been blinded by artificial lights like the humans were now.

The hotel towered above the city up ahead, and Lucifer frowned at the path where he'd had met Wyr. He hadn't heard from her since they parted ways the day before, and like he'd been doing all night, he pulled out his phone to check for any new messages. The screen was blank, the message he'd sent last night was still the last thing between them.

Hope you got home safe

He kind of wished she'd said yes to lunch yesterday. If only to flesh out this new friendship more, to hear her stories and history so he could get the full picture. He wished he'd felt brave enough to turn the pages in her notebooks yesterday. He knew better than to play with a witch's work but the small bubbling cauldrons filled with dubious potions, and the different pages of notes written in symbols from all across history… Wyr had obviously looked beyond her limited knowledge when she'd come down. She'd obviously sought out different Sinners and researched the differences in their rituals and magic. Her table had been such a tiny snapshot into a woman so shrouded in mystery. Wyr felt as though she held her puzzle pieces close to her chest.

His heart gave a painful lurch, remembering the way her eyes had fluttered closed, and she'd swayed towards him. Her lips had parted just a fraction, that she'd looked so thoroughly kissable, Lucifer had almost completely abandoned reason and kissed her. It would have ruined their deal before it had even been struck. She'd been clear on how she thought of him. She didn't want him as much as she wanted his help.

"Dad! You're here!"

Lucifer perked up, a grin splitting his thoughts in two. Charlie waited at the door of the hotel, a bright smile meant just for him on her face. Seeing his daughter's face was a reminder. Talking Wyr into that deal was for Charlie's sake. If he'd fucked it up by kissing her…He would have fucked up his chance with Charlie.
"Hey Apple Cakes, you didn't have to meet me at the door!"
He crossed the threshold and Charlie followed him inside, a nervous chuckle filling the space between them.
"Well you know! Just want you to feel welcome here! Thanks for coming by." Lucifer nodded, looking around the ground floor. The place was still empty, and judging by the bag under his daughter's eyes, his worry grew.
"Everything okay Charlie? Looking a little tired there. You know I'm making headway with the-" Charlie's smile was tight.
"No! No, it's, I mean yes, that whole thing makes me anxious…No, we just had an unexpected visitor last night, woke everyone up. Have you by chance seen the news this morning?" Lucifer scoffed, bravado hiding the fact he'd been absolutely wide awake spiraling the entire night and when he'd finally hit the sheets, and woken up to her call…He'd not washed, not eaten, just used a little angelic grace to fake a mentally healthy dad for his daughter.

"No, you know how I feel about the Sinner's channels…Wait-Unexpected visitor? Charlie, why didn't you-" Irrational fury fueled by fear raged to the surface. Had something happened last night while he'd been just staring at a blank screen? Had Charlie needed him? Was it bad enough it was splashed all over the news. He pulled out his phone, to find the news cycle, when Charlie's hand landed on his. He paused.
"Alastor handled it dad, it's fine. It just took everyone awhile to settle down again." Lucifer frowned, sneering at the thought of Alastor being the one to protect his daughter.
"What happened then? Why are you asking if I checked the news?" Charlie yawned, shaking her head.
"Different things…Kind of, maybe?" She shook her head again and turned when Vaggie entered the kitchen. Her girlfriend's bed head was as ruffled as Charlie's. He watched as the fallen angel sleepily kissed Charlie's cheek and silently went to brew the coffee. Again he asked himself if he should talk to Charlie about her girlfriend…But seeing how awkward he'd been when Charlie had introduced Vaggie…Maybe it was best he didn't pry too much into Charlie's romantic conquests. It's not like he had a leg to stand on. He'd fallen for a married woman. The first married woman.
The thought was like picking at a scab just to feel a little extra pain.
Charlie turned back to him and they sat down at the massive table. He wondered if everyone ate together here, like a massive family. It sounded like something Charlie would insist on. Would he ever be invited?

When Vaggie set down mugs of coffee in front of them, Charlie's smile let the entire room. Vaggie sat down on the other side of the table and yawned into her cup.
"Sir, do you have any idea what the fuck happened last night?" Lucifer rolled his eyes.
"You're really sticking with Sir? Seriously?" He picked up his mug and sipped it, feeling the liquid's instant effect on his sluggish thoughts. The fallen angel made good coffee. Vaggie rolled her eye at him and he sighed, sitting back in his chair.
"Fine, apparently it's too early for jokes. No, Vaggie, what happened last night?" Charlie jumped in, her hand landing on his arm. Warmth pooled in his chest as he looked at that hand, remembering when it had been a tiny chubby hand with tiny little fingers attached. Usually sticky from food, but sometimes with surprise glitter he'd be finding for the rest of the week attached to him.

"Dad, uhm, I don't know how to say this, but you were on the news."
Lucifer frowned, looking up from his daughter's hand on his to her face. Concern drew her features tighter.
"I was on the TV?" She nodded and Vaggie continued.
"Looks like someone filmed you getting a total verbal beat down to be honest Sir." Again with the Sir. But a beat down? When had he gotten into a-

"Oh."

The word was long and drawn out, expanding the longer his mind flicked back over yesterday's events. We should get off the street. Maybe Wyr had said it too little too late. But she must have been right. He's been too wrapped up in his head though, the words reminding him of her.
"Oh? What do you mean 'oh'? Dad! What happened?" It felt like it would have been so easy to tell Charlie and Vaggie what had happened, to tell them he was the victim…But he'd been thinking about it all last night, thinking about Wyr all night. She hadn't been lying to hurt him, but telling him the harsh realities he'd let slip past.
"It was nothing… Just a disagreement between-" What was Wyr? Was she his friend? It sounded too personal, what if she didn't think of him like that? How about a partner? They'd made a deal together, but 'partner' sounded so informal… She wasn't a business partner, even though she basically ran the cemeteries he had built.

"Between two individuals who share common interests."

Yeah, that sounded worse than just saying friends.

Charlie and Vaggie shared a look. "The audio wasn't super clear sir, but it didn't sound like a simple disagreement." Charlie squeezed his hand. His heart swelled and his tail coiled tightly around the chair legs. His daughter was worried about him. Was he allowed to feel this happy when she was worried?
"We're just worried because you haven't been out in a while is all, and no one has seen you with anyone other than mom." His heart began to ache again, and the missing weight of gold on his finger felt like he was missing a limb. He lifted a hand to Charlie's cheek, marvelling at how beautiful his girl had grown up to be. She had surpassed both himself and her mother in beauty and grace. Charlie had more grace and kindness than she could possibly know what to do with, and here she was, taking care of her lonely, depressed father.
"Charlie" His thumb brushed her cheek, lifting her chin to look at him. "I promise, whatever you saw on the news, it wasn't as bad as you think. Truly." He tried for a mischievous smile. "What if I liked being talked to like that?"
The smile and his joke worked. Charlie reacted as any child would to hearing about their parents in the bedroom. She jerked away and Vaggie's face was red as she took long pulls from her coffee.
"Dad! Oh my gosh, why?! Ew!" He snickered as Charlie went for her mug, sculling the coffee inside.

Parenting at its finest.