Elida didn't know that Alastor could hear her crying herself to sleep again. The shadows subtly surrounded her like a blanket, offering her what little comfort he could provide while she sobbed softly into her pillow. With how busy she was, it was easy to push the guilt out of her mind during the day. But killing someone is an action that's not so easily shaken. The increased strength she felt in her magic was a constant reminder of what she'd done. Her heart felt slimy and wrong.

She wished there had been another way. Any other way. But she'd been backed into a corner. It was either end Lute or surrender to genocide. Elida didn't regret her actions, but the justification didn't make her feel any better about it. She wanted to tear her own halo off and cast it aside. How could she deserve it anymore?

It was impossible to determine when she'd fallen asleep, because the next thing she remembered was waking up. The sound of screams from her lover's radio was a surprising comfort to the start of her day. Elida yawned and stretched while she listened to his morning announcements;

"Good morning, monsters and malcontents, Alastor here!" Alastor's cheery transatlantic voice greeted, "It's a fine day in Hell today with the usual putrid air and stifling heat. There is a slight chance of brimstone hail-fire later in the day, so be sure to stare stupidly at any strange objects flying directly toward your faces, hahahaha! I see our favorite angel is tuning in just now. Why don't you say hello to our listeners, little darlin'?"

Without missing a beat, Elida spoke into her wand, "Good morning, everyone, Elida here! Heaven's well-wishes on you all today." She kept it short, so Alastor could continue his spiel.

"Ha ha; What a delight! I can't wait to spend the day with the most beautiful soul that Heaven and Hell have to offer," Alastor declared confidently for everyone to hear. "While I go enjoy her enchanting company, I'll start your music off for today with a brand-new album by a local artist. Here's 'Flesh in My Teeth,' by Hunger Hart."

A dark, cannibalistic song began playing, and Elida turned to see her favorite person enter her room through the crack under the door.

"Good morning, dearest," Alastor greeted, appearing out the shadows. "I'm taking you to breakfast today. Do wear something nice, will you?"

Any lingering sadness from the long night disappeared when she saw his handsome face. Her lips stretched into a smile, and Alastor caught them in a passionate morning kiss. When her glow was suitably brightened, he broke away and poked her in the nose.

"There's that shine of yours. Go on then," he leaned back on her bed, hands behind his head, "don't mind me."

"I sure won't," she flirted.

He watched her get dressed, feasting on the work of art she was. She took a little longer than strictly necessary, making sure Alastor got a nice eyeful. He didn't complain. He liked that she was reserved for his eyes only.

"Where are we going?" Elida asked, grabbing her glittering Velvette shawl. The warmth eased the chill that had grown far worse since Lute.

"There's a fine establishment in your corner of the pentagram that neither of us have yet to go to. I'm told they are quite high-end. Since it's on your territory, I thought we could try it and give our review during our podcast segment later tonight."

"Sounds yummy," she agreed. "Should we take the broom?"

"Delightful as your witchy device is, I thought we could take the carriage today."

"Oh! The one with the fire-horse creature?"

"The very same."

"I love that thing!"

"I know. The driver will be pulling up for us any minute. Are you prepared? It's a bit of a distance."

Elida grabbed her phone, putting it on mute and burying it deep inside her magically enlarged pocket. "I'm good."

He took her hand and guided her to the hotel exit. He wanted to cheer her up without letting her know he knew how much she was hurting. She'd already told him she couldn't say why she was upset, so all he could do was try to ease the pain until she either stopped crying or told him what was wrong. That started with giving her the princess treatment she deserved.

When Elida saw the magma mare, she ran up to pat its snout. It snorted and smoked, but allowed her to coo over its threatening form. She made sure not to burn her clothing. When the carriage driver was looking the other direction, she waved her hand and summoned a carrot. It roasted and burned in the mare's mouth, making Elida giggle.

"After you, love," Alastor held out a hand to help her up into her seat.

She accepted, settling easily on the black leather seats. Alastor joined her, draping his arm comfortably around her shoulders. The driver closed the door and latched it into place, then urged the fire horse onward. It singed the ground wherever it stepped. Elida, still a bit sleepy, rested her head on Alastor's willing shoulder. He ran his fingers through her hair while they traveled.

The further they got from the hotel, the more people gawked at them. Celebrity appearances were more of a novelty when you were in an area they didn't visit often. They ignored them all. Gunshots and blood splatters decorated the world while they chatted pleasantly about this and that.

At one point, half a corpse fell from a window nearly landing on their heads. Alastor sent it in another direction with a wave of his hand. It landed on the sidewalk with a splat. They drove on.

"Did I tell you I invented a new recipe?" Elida mentioned. "It's an inhalable potion that turns nasty smells into pleasant ones."

"Sounds similar to your charisma perfume," Alastor pointed out.

"Yes, I used that recipe as the template, but these are cheaper, less complicated, and more customizable. For example, this one," she pulled a silver, egg-shaped pendant out of her pocket, "Makes everything smell like baking bread." She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I designed it to smell like your mom's house."

Alastor took a whiff. Sure enough, all the rot and brimstone of Hell shifted into the inviting scent of baking bread and fresh spices. "This is lovely. May I have it?"

"Sure, it's all yours. Here, you just pin it to your jacket, like so…" she placed the egg pendant somewhere close enough to reach his nose, but not anywhere that would get in the way. "You'll have to refill it once a week. I got the idea from an old Victorian trend."

"It's quite brilliant. I daresay I may grow accustomed to the lack of stench."

"You'll be spoiled rotten by the time I'm through with you," she joked, nestling further into the cook of his neck.

"I believe that is my job."

"You'll have to fight me for it."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Oh, definitely," she kissed his cheek sweetly.

A bleeding man was crying in the road. The carriage bumped as the wheels ran over him. He stopped crying. The carriage never slowed.

"What other scents do you intend to create?" Alastor asked cheerfully. "I daresay it'll be hard to beat this one."

"I'm working on one that smells like a mossy forest, and then I think I'd like one that smells like a library. Maybe I'll make a farmland one too, even if that's not my cup of tea. I'm sure there are a lot of people who would find it comforting and home-y."

"I'm rather fond of roasting meats, myself."

"I could do that, too. Ohhh, and maybe a rose garden! I bet Marcel would enjoy one of those for when he visits. Perhaps I could also…"

She continued on, listing off ideas to add to her product list. Alastor adored the passion in her voice. He could listen to her all day. On a whim, he decided to tape her ramblings with his staff for later. One day, she'd return to Heaven, and Alastor wanted every record of her he could get to help hold him over through his lonely eternity. Lilith would never let him go.

After quite a drive, they arrived at what Elida considered to be the cleanest skyscraper she'd ever seen in Hell. Several winged demons flitted about, polishing the exterior to a shine. It gleamed like a crystal mirror. It was far enough from Vee tower that she had never noticed it, but it was too big to be new.

The carriage pulled up to the front and a demon with his nose firmly in the air approached, "Name, please?"

"Reservation for Alastor and Elida," Alastor replied.

The demon checked a device to confirm their names, then nodded, "Of course, sir and ma'am. Welcome to The Skysons. Your table is ready."

They were escorted up a glass elevator to the highest floor. As they went higher, Elida could see several wealthy-looking demons going about their morning routines. It seemed like some kind of resort for the ultra-rich. These were the kind of people Velvette designed her fashion shows for.

The elevator opened to a finely polished restaurant. Above their heads dangled a sparkling crystal chandelier. Gleaming silver cutlery adorned every table. In the center of the room sat an ornate fountain depicting a well-muscled demon that Elida didn't recognize.

Even at their early hour, the whole place was packed with glamorous demons, all enjoying dishes that were certain to have price ranges over three digits a piece at least. How Alastor managed to find a reservation, Elida didn't know or ask.

The demon who'd greeted them at the door handed them off to a waiter in a tuxedo, who brought them to a table next to the fountain. The sound of running water was a soothing addition to the atmosphere, and Elida found herself thoroughly entranced.

"You sure know how to treat a lady," she smiled.

"You did extend me a challenge," he joked.

The nice thing about being in a room full of rich and famous people was that no one cared about anyone else being rich and famous. There was no awe, paparazzi, or creepy fans. No one groveled for angelic favors from Elida or ran away when they caught Alastor's eye. There were no hotel guests asking for their plumbing to be fixed or for their addiction potions to be refilled. No, they were simply allowed to exist.

Breakfast was magnificent. The resort clearly employed a master chef. Even Alastor was impressed. The only thing he didn't love was the coffee, and that was purely because Elida couldn't slip her own blood into it in front of everyone else; That would be bad etiquette.

His efforts were working. Elida was cheering up, at least for the time being. Her smile was addictive; it made it so much easier to maintain his own. She was so painfully precious to him.

By the time they finished up, Elida decided she was in the mood for a bit of pampering, so they went to get their nails done. Alastor had his claws sharpened, and Elida had her hooves polished. They treated themselves to a nice couple's massage, along with a facial that was refreshingly tingly on the skin. All-in-all, it was a relaxing several hours.

Elida never noticed her phone buzzing. She didn't bother to check the texts that flooded in at an abnormally high rate. Her volume was off, and her attention was on Alastor. Sweet, funny Alastor, who always had a silly joke to tell. Looking at him made her heart all fluttery. Fluttery enough to forget to turn her volume back on, even after they reentered the fire-mare carriage.

They spent the entire return ride making out. The few souls stupid enough to try snapping a photo for… personal use… had their devices explode the moment the photo was taken. Alastor put up a privacy shield of dark mist after the first dozen peeping creepers.

"Your lips taste like cucumber face mask," Elida giggled into him, kissing him again and again. Evidently, the flavor didn't bother her.

"Mm- You're one to -mmm- talk."

"Shush," she ordered.

"Mmmhm. Yes ma'am."

A stray bullet shot Elida in the side of the head, but since it was just a normal weapon, all it did was annoy her. She did, however, take it as an excellent excuse to pull Alastor out of his seat and onto the floor of the vehicle. She pinned him in place; something he only allowed because he adored her far too much.

"Surrender," she teased.

"Not going to happen, love." He flipped her over, pinning her in his place instead. "You, on the other hand, are free to beg."

They pretended to fight for a bit, Alastor taking the upper hand in the end. Elida was reduced to a gasping mess when he reached into her dress, touching her intimately the same way he had before. She barely managed not to cry out, knowing the mists obscuring them did nothing to mute sound. Alastor felt very smug about her struggle. He liked seeing her face screw up in pleasure. To his amusement, her holy glow very nearly blinded him when she reached her climax.

They could get used to this.

Once Elida caught her breath again, they decided to take a little detour on their way home to visit the Coven. The carriage driver was visibly annoyed about this, but they weren't stupid enough to complain or argue. They just did as they were told.

"Well, if it isn't shoulder pads and glowstick," the Hag affectionately glowered at them as they pulled up to the Rose Quartz. She was turning the sign on the door to declare their establishment closed. Odd time of day for that, but witches did whatever the Hell they wanted, regardless of the time of day.

"Hey babe," Elida greeted, fluttering out of the carriage to hug the Hag before the driver could even come to a complete stop. "Look what I made!"

Elida gleefully showed off her new scent potion like a child showing their mother a finger painting. The Hag listened, her face perpetually grumpy. Still, she seemed engaged in the conversation, asking about ingredients and the brewing process. Alastor patted the Hag condescendingly on the head, earning him a slap to the wrist. He grinned, opening the door to let them inside.

"Age before beauty," he quipped.

"Fuck you," the Hag replied.

"That's my job," Elida joked. She could still feel the blissful aftereffects of his fingers on her skin.

The Rose Quartz was predictably devoid of customers, considering they were closed. Incense burned on the host stand, sending a flowery aroma throughout the dining area. A witch hung naked from the ceiling like a bat, her skin painted with arcane symbols in what seemed to be blood. A skinned lamb corpse dangled beside her, dripping into a bowl.

Standing in a circle on the floor around them, six other witches chanted in a flat monotone. They spoke in perfect Latin, articulating the intention of their magic in a clear and ominous sound. Elida understood it to be a spell designed to find someone that didn't want to be found.

She turned to the Hag, "Who are you looking for?"

"Tell you when we find 'em," the Hag replied.

"Should I be concerned?"

"You already are."

"I am?"

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"You'll understand when we've got something to share."

"Whatever floats your boat," Elida shrugged. She helped herself to an apple from the kitchen and sat down to share it with Alastor. He sliced it for her.

A new witch, one who had clearly only died recently, poked her head in from the back room, gawking at the pair. "Unholy shit on a stick," she whispered to the Hag, "Is that them?"

"That's them," the Hag confirmed. "But whatever you do, don't- oh, for fuck's sake…"

The new witch, a woman with three eyes and an abnormally long torso, walked excitedly up to Alastor. She grabbed his hand, shaking it wildly before turning and taking Elida's to do the same. Before either of them could react, she was crouched on the floor and bowing like a cosplayer at a ren faire.

"I'm honored to meet you your majesties-"

"Finnie!" the Hag snapped, "Shut the fuck up and get back to cleaning up your mess back there before I carve out your uterus, use it to birth an abomination, and then cook it into a pie."

The new witch, evidently called Finnie, hurriedly stood up and ran back where she'd come from, the Hag spraying her with a bottle of water like a cat.

With utter bewilderment, Elida asked, "What in the world did she just call us?"

"She's new," the Hag snipped, "and is still a little funny in the head from dying. Finish your apple."

Alastor knew for a fact that dying, even dying and going to Hell, didn't give you delusions. But he supposed witches had their own way of things. "Did she die performing a spell of the mind, by any chance?"

"Who the fuck asked you?"

"No one, dear. I believe I'm the one doing the asking."

"Well shove that curiosity firmly up your triangle ass."

Elida leaned over and teasingly whispered at Alastor, "Someone's in a mood today, huh?"

"I'll say," he agreed, winking at the Hag's sour expression.

Shrewm, who was stirring something inside a cauldron in the corner, plucked one of the fungi from her skin and threw it at Elida's head, "Buzz buzz, bitch!"

"There are no bees here," Elida smiled back at her, dodging the mushroom easily.

"Bees? Bah! Buzzing is bad news before baby's big, kilted beak. Check your bulletin, beauty-queen. Find the birdie, now."

Elida replied, "Riddles, rhymes, and readied words. Fawns and shrooms and silly birds. Until you tell me what you mean, your warnings spoil like sour curds."

"Beauty and her beast are in for a blow."

"If my dear sister says so."

Being with the Coven was a favorite pastime for both Alastor and Elida, but as the day wore on, they still had to return to the hotel. Souls weren't going to redeem themselves, after all. Elida gave the Hag a kiss on her wrinkled cheek, then handed her a sample of her new sweet-smelling potion. Bidding her sisters goodbye, they climbed back into the carriage and drove home.

Elida was warm, and happy, and safe. Alastor made her feel warm, and happy, and safe. Everything was perfect, and warm, and happy, and safe.

And then they walked back into the Hazbin Hotel.

Elida's smile dropped, her expression going blank and unreadable. She stared at a face she knew all too well. A face that didn't belong there. A face that she hadn't expected to see for many, many years.

Heart sinking, Elida opened her mouth to greet the person who definitely should not have been there, "Dad?"