"Adam?"

His name. Someone's— someone's yelling his name.

Who…?

"What the fuck are you doing in there?" It calls again. "Hey, Adam!"

Vadgie. It's fucking Vadgie. Oh shit, if she sees him like this - wingless, broken, half-naked, crying, ugly…

She won't hesitate to tear him apart - maybe even literally, because she's always been pretty good at cutting away her enemies. Up until her exile, the line of bodies that ruthless bad bitch had left in her wake had been so long and grand - honestly, he'd been pretty proud of her.

So despite playing Dress-Up as the princess's bitch, he'll always know her as his headstrong Exorcist - and now that she's had time to get acclimated to the heinous atmosphere of this place, she's probably learned some evil tricks or two. She can make things so much worse for him.

Maybe she'll kill him, but wouldn't that be a mercy at this point? Who fucking knows? She'll still see how pathetic he is now, and whether or not she cuts him down in the end, the shame of looking like this will be too much to bear.

"Adam!"

Fuck.

"G-give me— give me a fucking minute," he croaks, his sore throat and chest protesting anymore yelling right now. His hand is still dripping blood, so he grabs a towel from the rack next to the sink to wrap it. After securing it tightly (with just a slight zap of protesting pain), he dashes back into the room.

Funny how it took him forever to struggle into the bathroom, but the adrenaline of panic makes him able to leave it so quickly. He catches his breath for a few seconds before seeing the entrance's door knob turn slowly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" he mutters to himself, eyes darting around the room for a hiding spot. He sets his sights on the closet. But first, he yanks the comforter off the bed before swinging open the closet door and slamming it shut.

Apart from the gentle glow of his cuffs, the room is completely dark, which is perfect. But before he can make himself settle, he takes the thick blanket and wraps it around himself, completely covering his back. It doesn't feel the best on his wounds, but it's the most reassurance he's felt since he woke up. Not only does the blanket hide his lumpy back, but it covers his torso in a similar way his wings did. Just having the softness at his sides is soothing.

But he has to stay completely silent, hearing the door open and the small footsteps of Vadgie. She's calling out for him, irritation laced in her tone.

"Adam, where the hell are you? C'mon, this isn't a fucking game." By the shuffling clicks of her heels further away, he guesses she noticed the bathroom door still open and the lack of Dickmaster beyond it. With an annoyed sigh, she steps closer to the closet - he can tell because her shadow covers some of the crack of light under the door.

At least, he hopes it's her shadow.

He holds his breath, remaining frozen in that position and staring wide-eyed towards the door. It's like an intense scene in a movie, the way he's hunkering down and just waiting for the enemy to pass him up. But this isn't Jurassic Park, and the Vadgasaurus is much more clever than some dumb raptors in a kitchen.

"I know you're in there, Adam."

To Adam's horror, he can hear the knob shifting to open—

"Stop!" he yells out, his voice cracking a bit in his desperation. "You can't come in."

There's a heavy pause. "…why not?"

"You can't— I'm not—" he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. There's nothing he can really say that won't make him out to be an absolute quivering pussy. "Just… just don't."

The silence stretches further, making Adam squirm a bit anxiously. Like this, he's just an ugly sitting duck. If she decides to break in, it's not like he's in any condition to hold her back.

Just to make himself feel better, he moves to push his back against the door; the comforter acts like a cushion, so his wounds aren't agitated.

After that terrifying bathroom encounter with the mirrors, the last thing he wants is to see someone else right now - but he's afraid that that won't matter to Vadgie. She has all the right ammo to attack him emotionally, too - just one glance at him would do the trick.

His face is still damp from tears, his bruised eyes probably puffed up. For fuck's sake, the ultimate proof of his weakness is forever scarred on his body. It's not hard at all to make him flinch - a fact he fucking hates.

Sure, the primal fear he'd felt during that whole… situation has died down a bit, but traces still linger. Last thing he needs is another moment of panic.

He can admit to himself that his reaction to the horror funhouse in the bathroom had been a lot - but, fuck, how else was he supposed to feel? He hadn't been ready to see himself yet, and the truth had been too ugly to process.

Besides, that smiling freak showing up in shadowy visages around the room had been horrifying. Even someone as strong as Adam would be frightened by that, right?

I should be fucking stronger, then.

"So… do I even wanna know why you're in there or what you're doing?" He can hear the smirk on Vadgie's one-eyed face, and it distracts him from his self-loathing. "There's a lot of 'in the closet' jokes I could say…"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you cunt," he snarls. Yeah, that would've been funny if he said it, or if he'd been in any degree of a good mood.

"Aw, can dish out the jokes, but can't take them, Dickmaster?" Vadgie mocks. He's obviously unable to see her, but he hears her shuffle around and imagines her sitting against the door, and by extension she's back to back with him.

"Go away, Vadginator," he shoots back.

"Can you at least tell me what the hell you were doing in the first place?" she asks. "I heard you screaming like a banshee - I thought something was seriously wrong, but you were only hiding out in the closet?"

He's not about to talk about what happened, at least not yet, so he dodges the question. "I wasn't in here until you decided to come in uninvited," he hisses.

Vadgie laughs in a tone that crawls under his skin. "I hate to break it to you, but you don't own anything in this hotel. Charlie's letting you stay in her hotel room. Anyone can come and go as they please."

The words cause a bubble of anxiety to swell in Adam's chest. Anyone? So he really is exposed here, the door nothing but an illusion of privacy? He shouldn't have expected anything less from these Hell freaks - of course they'd want to continue tearing Adam apart, switching turns and creating endless suffering—

"...whoa, can you take it fucking easy in there? You're gonna goddamn hyperventilate."

…what?

He feels lightheaded for a second, realizing that yeah, Vadgie's right about that - he's gasping for air, the panic tightening around his neck like a noose.

"I can't help it!" he spits out. "You… you just said anyone can come in at any time - how the fuck can you expect me to be calm?!"

More silence. Ugh, Vadge-of-Honor has never been a talker, but he remembers being able to get her to speak a little more than this.

"Adam, I didn't, uh…" she trails off, clearly carefully choosing her words. "I didn't mean anyone-anyone, as in… Alastor." Damn it all, just the bastard's name is enough to get Adam's heart pounding against his ribs. "He's not allowed in here, I swear. All I meant was that the room you're in is rented, not owned. You can have privacy, but not when we think you're in danger."

"Whatever," he grumbles. As if that demon didn't already find a loophole to get around the 'not allowed in' rule.

Adam isn't sure he's going to tell anyone about his little mirror event, though. It's beyond embarrassing to admit that it caught him off-guard, and even if he kept the parts about him crying secret, he can't be sure Alastor won't just tell them all everything, anyway.

"Do you want to… talk about anything?" Vadgie asks quietly.

What kind of question is that!?

The obvious answer is "fuck no" - but does she expect him to just be honest here and just say how he's ~feewing~? How he's on the verge of breakdown after breakdown, all because he saw something he hated in the mirror? Why would he ever admit that to himself, much less another person?

"Talk about what?" Adam scoffs, deluding himself into thinking nothing is wrong. "About how we kicked your asses until Lucifer unfairly showed up? And now I'm stuck here as goddamn prisoner?"

"Well, you're not technically a prisoner—"

"I have fucking handcuffs on!" he snaps. "I'm not stupid , you dumb cunt. I know you're not just gonna let me walk around freely - even if I wasn't too fucking crippled to walk out."

(He wouldn't even know where to go, anyway.)

"Or if this is more of a babysitter thing," he adds, "you're more fucking stupid than you look - which is a lot already. So why don't you make a good choice for once and get the fuck out, Vadgie?"

The cunt groans. "Look, trust me, there are ten million things I'd rather be doing right now, but I promised Charlie I'd look after you - and that includes making sure you're not about to keel over in there. So, be honest: how are you feeling, at least physically?"

"Your bitch asked the same thing - I don't have a fucking number to give you. Leave me alone."

"Adam, you have no idea how much trouble we all went through just to bring you back from death's door. I'm not about to let you just waste all the time we spent saving you for some stupid pride."

"Saving me?" Adam barks. "Yeah, a lot of good that did. Where were you when he was—" He stops himself, unable to fend off the flashbacks creeping at the edges of his mind. "You… you know what happened, how he…" His voice trails off again, unable to finish the sentence.

"Tore off your wings?"

Why does she have to be so blunt about it!? Hearing it said out loud just continues to make it real, and he's pretty sure that's the fucking point she's making, but the words cause him distress nonetheless.

"Y… Yeah," he growls. "But there's also big-ass chunks of my skin gone, and everything fucking hurts - it's not gonna kill me, but it's too late to help now. I- I'm already fucked up."

"Well, you'd be a lot more fucked up if not for Charlie insisting we take care of you after Alastor mangled you." Adam flinches again at her word choice, but she continues none-the-wiser. "Charlie practically did surgery on you in the middle of the battlefield, even sewing the holes back up. She did her absolute best to save your life."

He does remember feeling like he'd been pinned down with someone rifling through his innards. He'd only been slightly conscious, but the pain had been excruciating, and his only instinct in that moment was to get away.

"I wish you could've seen it," Vadgie adds dryly, "I doubt anyone's ever tried that hard on your behalf."

She's not exactly wrong, but he doesn't like it being put that way. He's never had serious injuries before, or at least not in Heaven. Eve might've taken care of him when he was sick or hurt back on Earth, but he honestly can't remember.

No one's ever needed to go the extra mile for him, though, because he's super powerful and has never been in such an extreme state of weakness like that before. He's sure any of his Exorcists would defend him in battle, especially Lute, but…

But they didn't answer when I begged for their help.

"You went quiet again," Vadge observes, cutting through his thoughts. "Should I even ask how you're feeling emotionally right now?"

How the fuck do you think, you disgusting bitch?

Vadgie takes his lack of verbal response as the embarrassing reality that he is, in fact, going through it. "Not that great, huh?" she guesses, correctly. There's a hint of smugness to her tone as she continues, "Are you jumping at shadows yet? Guess you haven't been conscious long enough for nightmares, but be prepared for those. They're the worst."

Much as he hates it, she strikes a nerve. "Are you making fun of me?" he growls through gnashed teeth. "You don't understand a goddamn thing , you cunt."

"Wrong on all accounts, dickhead," she scoffs. "I'm actually the only one who gets what you're feeling right now - because you forced me through that first." Her voice softens just a bit when she adds, "Having your wings taken away isn't a joke - trust me, I know how much it hurts - but I can't deny the irony of this situation, either."

Oh, right… Lute chopped off her wings back then. That's the whole reason Vadgie's here in the first place, why she's no longer in his army. It's not like he forgot the details of her exile, really, just that he's had more prominent things on his mind. She probably plans on taking advantage of this situation to taunt him, the wicked little...

"Well don't fucking hold back on my account. You wanna say something, go ahead and say it!" he snarls. "I'm sure you just feel so fucking happy I got what I 'deserved' - what went around, came around, right? Bad guy's defeated and humiliated - happy fucking ending!"

"Believe me, I was ecstatic when Niffty stabbed you," Vadgie admits, "But finding out you survived, only to go through what I did… I wish I could get some satisfaction from that, but I really just… feel bad."

Disgust roils his stomach. "You pity me."

"It's more that I empathize. I know that's probably a foreign concept to you - God knows it was for me during the Exorcist days - but yeah, I can't stop thinking of how I felt after it happened to me." She huffs. "It's excruciating, being rendered that powerless and helpless."

"I'm not like you," Adam bites back. "I'm way stronger mentally, and I feel nothing but rage at that fucker for taking something that doesn't belong to him. Someone like me doesn't get traumatized, Vadgie."

She snorts, and it's clear she sees right through him. "You really believe that." It's not a question.

"Of course!"

(Mostly because he has to.)

"Well, whatever. Arguing that with you is pointless," Vadgie continues. "I'd much rather catch you up to speed, since you were unconscious from your not-trauma for almost two weeks."

"Uh, yeah , that'd be oh-so-fucking appreciated."

"Turns out cleaning out your wounds in the dirt made them more prone to infection - who could've guessed? We kept you cool until your fever went down, but it had been pretty touch-and-go for a bit. After everything you'd endured, we weren't sure you were going to make it." Vadgie gives a little scoff. "Of course you proved us wrong."

Is she joking? "Um, duh. No shit I survived all of that like the badass I am. You fuckers were wrong to doubt me." Though no one can see him, he habitually flexes his fingers in a 'rockstar' sign.

He can practically hear her one eye rolling. "You wouldn't have survived without help, dumbass, so— no, I guess it's not worth it." She takes a deep breath, murmuring numbers to herself. "...anyway, I'm sure, after everything that's happened, you want to go home ASAP. You'll be happy to hear that we've trying to contact Heaven…"

Adam's mind screeches to a halt.

"Trying to do what!?" he practically squawks, shifting to turn around to face the door for dramatic effect but stopping once his back protests with pain. These idiots can't have a little bit of tact and wait for him to be able to stand before getting involved with the folks upstairs!?

"Charlie and Lucifer have been relentlessly reaching out to them, but no one's answering. We haven't heard anything from them since the Extermination," Vadge explains somberly. "I don't know if they can even hear us anymore, or if they're just ignoring us."

Oh.

Well, that's…

Her words are enough to make his chest flare up with pain, and he finds himself tugging the comforter tighter over his body. "Look, just— they're not gonna answer, so don't bother anymore, okay?" he says, a bit softly.

"What? That's… unlike you. You want to stay here?"

"Of course I fucking don't!" he snaps, then clears his throat. "But going home isn't really… just, not like this… they can't, uh…"

"You don't want them to know about what happened." Another not-question. He wants to deny it, but she's already figured him out. Once again, he feels naked and exposed; even with a door and thick blanket between them, Vadgie's able to see right through him.

"Maybe they gave you bitches their answer by ghosting," he rasps. "Maybe… they don't want me back." The thought makes his throat tighten.

"...I don't know," Vadgie admits. "We both know how cold they can be."

Right - though the rejection hurts, he isn't surprised at Heaven's silence in the least; like Vadgie said, they don't tolerate failure or shortcomings. Once Adam initiated the Exterminations, he adopted a similar position, reflective in the ideals he trained his girls by. And even from the beginning, when he first ascended to Heaven, he'd always done his best to appease the higher seraphim. Yeah, he'd bent the rules a few times, but it was easy to explain away any of his mischief without so much as a slap on the wrist. The angels loved him from the beginning, their first human; for so long, he'd done no wrong in their eyes.

But… there's no way Heaven will accept him back like this, if ever again.

And besides…

"I… called for them, before, when it was… happening. They… didn't answer me," he murmurs, unable to stop the words from escaping his lips. It leaves him even more vulnerable, but he can't help it; there's a compulsive, instinctive need to justify himself here, to confirm just why he's so sure his home doesn't want him to return.

(And even if they did, he doesn't know if he can stomach the humiliation of going back home being literally half the man he used to be.)

"Really? Not even Lute…?" Vadgie asks carefully. "Aren't you two close?"

"She's my best fucking friend," he immediately replies. "But…"

But she never answered, either.

It's possible no one in Heaven was able to hear him back then, though he'd been pretty fucking loud - but even so, they should've heard the annoying-ass demons spamming them with messages. He hopes Lute's just been recovering and not in the loop, but he can't be sure; for now, he has to accept that even she might not want him to return.

Recovering…

…Oh shit!

A thought lights up in Adam's mind - something he definitely should've thought about earlier. "Vadgie— speaking of Lute… you fuckers didn't kill her, right? She made it back?" He finds himself holding his breath, hoping with everything he has that his toughest girl showed how tough she truly is by surviving this all.

Thankfully, Vadgie says, "Yeah, she did - though only because I beat her in battle and let her live. She tore her arm off trying to get back to the fight, and grabbed your halo when she retreated."

Okay, so that answers a lot of questions Adam had had about the aftermath of the fight - such as where his Exorcists and his halo went. Yes, he did lose some soldiers, but his lieutenant's still in (mostly) one piece. Good.

"I knew Dangertits was hardcore, but damn." He tries to chuckle, but it feels forced; sure, he's grateful Lute survived, but nothing about this situation is amusing. Her tears had been real, and he hated seeing her like that.

"She's always acted that way: cruel, ruthless, barbaric," Vadgie replies bitterly.

Adam's not sure he'd go that far… they are killing people who deserve it, after all. But instead of pointing that out, he just adds, "Thought you understood that when she fucked you up."

"Oh believe me, I do understand. In the end, it took all my effort to not strike her down."

Adam gets it - he doesn't like it, but he knows Vadgie would naturally want Lute dead for what's happened. It's just how the wicked think. "Then why'd you let her live?"

Vadgie gives a deep sigh. Her voice shakes with anger as she says, "I think it's the same reason she didn't kill me back then: cruel mercy. Now she'll never forget I'm the reason she's still alive."

"Damn, Vadgie, that's not the same idea at all," he mutters. "Lute was taking care of business when she left your ass behind. You were just being a cunt."

There's pure vitriol in her tone. "...Business?"

"Uh, yeah. You did something you weren't supposed to," Adam reminds her. "And you were well aware of how we feel about betrayal. You must've known you were risking everything."

"...yes, I knew - you and Lute have never exactly been fans of compassion," she murmurs. "I guess at the time, I just… I was thinking about the kid, and how wrong it felt to kill him in cold blood. He was a child, Adam."

Adam had known that at the time, and has personally killed several children in Hell throughout the years. It never mattered. "So what? A sinner's a sinner. Lute saw you go rogue, and kicked you to the curb."

Vadgie sounds pissed. "Her 'solution' was hardly justified."

"Nah, it was. Like you said, she can be a hardass bitch sometimes - but there's no doubt in my mind she made the right choice that day."

There's another uncomfortable silence, and he finds himself wanting to continue his word-vomit. It's probably not the most wise decision to keep talking, but the thought of Vadgie thinking she has the moral high ground here, when she's been in literal Hell all this time—

It's insulting, actually.

"But hey, at least you get to fuck Lucifer's spawn, right?" he sneers.

A sudden slam to the door startles Adam. Vadgie sounds closer, like she turned herself around and punched the door to get his attention. He finds himself instinctively pressing his back further into the door, trying to keep himself from harm.

"Look, you asshole - I know how injured you are, so I've tried to play nice and go easy on you. But if you keep talking like that about me, about Charlie, we're gonna have a problem." Vadgie pauses to let the words sink in. "It sounds like you're saying I deserved what happened to me. So I want to make sure I have it right: is that what you're telling me?"

Adam… doesn't really know. He still respects Lute's decision, but is it possible that Vadgie's actions didn't justify the pain and humiliation of being de-winged? Two weeks ago he would've never put another thought into any of this ethical bullshit, but after personally experiencing how painful mutilation is… remembering that kind of overwhelming, neverending, all-encompassing agony and terror…

Do even sinners deserve that…?

But on the other hand, he doesn't want to admit that Vadgie might be any degree of right. He can't give her that satisfaction and leverage.

So vague half-answers it is.

Against every little voice in the back of Adam's mind telling him not to, he still pushes out his reply: "...well I know out of the two of us, I sure as fuck didn't."

He waits for the inevitable explosion or spear through the door or some kind of violence, but a heavy silence settles into the air instead. Vadgie's hatred and anger for him is practically palpable, and her hand once again slams into the door.

"Okay, y'know what? Let's keep going with this topic," she mutters, danger in the quietness of her voice. "Because I've got some pretty bad news for you: since that is what you seem to be implying, you are proving that you deserved it just as much. If Lute was right to do what she did, then so was Alastor."

Adam's mouth hangs open, her words doing the damage she intends. But his initial response is always deflection, so he swallows hard and forces a reply out: "It— that was different."

"Was it?" Vadgie scoffs. "Then tell me, specifically, what I did that makes me so much more worthy of it than you."

"I— you're a traitor," Adam mutters, but there's no bite behind his words. "I'm not. You— you messed up. You made the decision to help that sinner back then, so there were consequences."

Vadgie chuckles, but it's dark and unsettling. "Guess what, asshole? You also fucked up. You made the decision to come down and attack the hotel specifically. You decided to tango with Alastor. You ultimately gave up your wings. If I'm to blame for my actions, you can't absolve yourself of yours."

"Yes I can!" he yells, not really knowing where he's going with this. Panic is starting to creep in with some unwanted memories, so he tries his best to stave it all off with a purely emotional response. He can feel himself trembling, the uncertainty of the future bringing a heavy stress over his already exhausted body. "I can! How dare you say that!? I'm the First Man, I'm naturally above all you pathetic losers! I've never made a fucking mistake!"

Another slam shakes the door, and he swallows a yelp.

"Well, Adam, there's a first time for everything - you made the wrong choice that day. And it had consequences."

She's completely right, and it cuts him to the core. Because he's never messed up before, he's never had to worry about consequences - but now? Breaking the original deal to not attack hellborns, effectively summoning Lucifer to nearly kill him? Striking an accidental deal with a demon in a moment of desperation and losing a gift from the angels? Being rendered unable to physically go home, having to rely on the seraphim to pick him up like a kid that missed the school bus? Having his body, originally crafted by God Himself, mutilated and ruined to a state where even he can't look at it?

Well, those are all definitely mistakes - critical ones at that. And Vadgie's no fool - even with one eye, she's able to see that crystal-fucking-clearly.

"You're stuck in Hell for the foreseeable future, without friends or wings. Your solo career starts now." She gives a humorless snicker at the callback to Adam's terminology. "And believe me, no one's going to kiss your ass here. Now that you've left your echo chamber, you're only going to hear your own voice singing any praises. Sinners absolutely hate angels, especially Exorcists, and have lived in fear of… of us for centuries." The way she stutters implies that she still feels some guilt or whatever for her part in the Exterminations - though Adam can't really relate.

(Still, he did think about how sinners must have felt in some of those hazy, pain-filled moments while getting his wings ripped off; maybe that's the empathy Vadgie talked about earlier…)

"But we're all you have now," she continues. "As you just pointed out, Heaven wasn't even willing to spare you a second's thought - so if you want to survive, I suggest you get off your high horse and stop insulting the few that are trying to help you."

Much as he wants to deny it, there's not a lie anywhere in her words. The inevitable truth is just as he feared: Heaven didn't even respond to him pleading for help… and the ones who actually saved his life are sinners, not angels.

"It wasn't supposed to go this way," he whispers. "I'm not— this wasn't supposed to happen to me … I can't get his laughter out of my head."

"Alastor knows how to pick people apart - it's what he's good at. But you'd be stupid to just give up and let him win." He can picture her crossing her arms in irritation. "C'mon, Adam, that's not you. At your core, you're a lover of life - er, afterlife - and you have done some good things for humanity."

"You just gave me a lecture, now a pep talk? Don't you fucking hate me?" He barks out a delirious laugh, feverishly running his hands through his dirty hair. "After all I did to you, you must think me losing my mind like this is just the funniest shit, right!?"

"Well, I don't feel that sorry that you're finally getting a reality check and realizing you're not immune to suffering and pain. And yeah, I do hate you - because you're a fucking misogynistic asshole who killed a lot of people. In case you forgot." She lets those words sit in the air before continuing, "But I'd be the hypocrite if I thought you were beyond help - because unlike Alastor and unlike you, I actually believe that people can change for the better.

"However, where you go from here isn't up to anyone else here - especially not me. I'm not dragging you out of this room every morning or holding your hand through nightmares. Let me be clear, Adam: I owe you nothing."

Despite the hot Hell air and the ever-present shroud of cotton around his body, his skin feels cold. Suppressing a shiver, he burrows deeper into the cover of the comforter, finding himself anxious about where this conversation will go.

To his surprise, her voice softens again. "But like me,you didn't deserve to have your wings clipped. Alastor was wrong to take them, just as you and Lute were." She briefly pauses to sigh again. "Because of the deal with Alastor, you might never get them back. That's just a reality you'll have to accept."

"Accept?" he echoes incredulously. "You think someone like me can accept that!? For fuck's sake, I'm hiding in a closet because I don't want anyone to see my ugly, minced-meat body. And there's nothing I can do to change what happened. I can't move on from this!"

The words settle heavily in the air as Adam pants to catch his breath; fuck, he'd overexerted himself. His whole body aches, his back protesting the strain the most, and he feels a wetness smeared across his scalp where he'd just touched his head.

She doesn't say anything yet, letting him have his outburst. Eventually, the quiet becomes too thick, and she breaks through it with a levelheaded - and rather cryptic - reply: "Huh. That's… weird…"

The cool and collected tone startles him. "...what?"

"Oh, it's just… I've never heard you say that you can't do something before."

The silence is strangling, and his cheeks burn in shame. She's right, he's definitely changed too - but not in a good way.

She hums, and he wishes he could accurately predict her mood by the tone, but she keeps throwing curveballs at him. "The first step to getting past all the shit that happened to you is remembering you can. And contrary to what some may tell you, even you shouldn't have been tortured, and yes, you do deserve a chance to get better and feel safe again."

He's gobsmacked by the kindness in her words. She doesn't sound that different from Charlie.

Maybe this is not the same Exorcist he remembers - maybe Princess Positivity took that ruthless soldier and tamed her, shaping her values to the same "Kumbaya" shit of the hotel.

Did Vaggie's exile change her… for the better?

And… could that also happen to Adam?

It sounds preposterous, as he should be above all these bastards, but… as she just pointed out, that's not the case down here. At the very least, maybe he should keep an open mind while he's stuck and maimed. Since he can't face Heaven yet - and doesn't even know where he stands with them - maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to play along with the hotel's bullshit.

But how can he fit into a place that's so obviously not for him?

Ugh, his head hurts.

Lifting a hand to his hair again just makes his fingers more wet, something viscous sticking them together. It's difficult to see in the dark, but with the glow of his cuffs he's able to scope out a glimpse of a shimmery substance - and it's pretty obvious what it is.

Blood.

At some point during that emotional back-and-forth, he dropped the towel - evident by the sopping wet cloth discarded next to him - and his hand just continued bleeding. The glass shards from the mirror are definitely still embedded in his skin, and it'll be painful as fuck to dig them all out.

"You still listening in there?" Vaggie asks.

He swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand's not going to fix itself.

Well, do I even have any more pride left to lose at this point?

With an exhausted sigh, he shrugs to himself and quietly calls, "Yeah— hey, uh… V… Vaggie?"

"What is it— wait… what did you just call me?" she sputters, and he hadn't even realized he'd pronounced her name correctly.

His strength is draining faster than his blood, all these mental gymnastics and critical thinking spurts exhausting - not to mention the adrenaline lost in the mirror-bathroom incident. "I'm… feeling kinda dizzy," he admits, "and there's blood on the floor. I'm comin' out."

Without waiting for a reply, he slowly gets up on his knees and turns around, the comforter still snugly secured around him. As he turns the doorknob, he hears Vaggie shuffle backwards, leaving him room to swing the door open.

The ambient red lighting of the room is still too bright, and he squints against it as his eyes adjust. Seeing Vaggie there, he realizes from her furrowed brow that he probably looks like shit. Oh well.

"Um… Adam, what's…" Somehow, after that lengthy lecture-turned-Ted-talk, she's left stammering as he stumbles fully out of the closet.

He flops face-down on the floor with a small groan, and that makes her scurry to his side. She kneels down, and he turns his face toward her, giving her a weak half-hearted smirk.

"Came outta the closet - yay me," he slurs, exhaustion catching up to him. Not his fault - there were a lot of emotions released.

Vaggie ignores his joke, frowning down at him. "You're bleeding?"

"My fucking hand." Weakly, he moves his palm to show her.

She grimaces. "For fuck's sake… okay, hold on a sec." Standing up, she takes a deep breath and bends over his bundled form, her hands gripping the sides of the comforter. There's a shing! sound and he catches a glimpse of lavender feathers above him. Tiny hands wrap around his stomach and he's lifted only a few inches off the ground before being dropped back down.

He lets out a hiss of pain - thankfully the blanket cushioned him, but what the fuck was that?

"You're too heavy," Vaggie explains, running a hand through her hair.

"Fuck you!"

"No, you idiot, I mean your body's too large in scale of mine, so I'm not able to pick you up alone. Hold on."

From his awkward position on the floor, Adam watches her cross the room to the door, presumably to look out into the hallway.

"Oh, um, Your Majesty! Can you help me?" Vaggie calls out to someone, and unless she's into some kinky roleplay with the princess, there's only one person with that title she could be speaking to.

Hesitantly, he lifts his head, just in time to see…

Lucifer's smug face stares down at Adam, his hands on his tiny hips. "Well, hi again!" he exclaims.

Oh, come the fuck on…