The collective stood in the lobby, chattering the evening away. Husk began to pour drinks, Angel in a much better mood than previously, his troubles temporarily delayed for another day. Charlie detailed the improv'd day she had with the other hotel guests and that tomorrow was the true Day 1, while Niffty played with her newfound bounty.

Alastor was enjoying an aged whiskey when one of his little shadow minions popped out of the darkness and onto his coattails. It crawled up his shoulder and spoke to him in a wordless tongue. The deer demon's eyes shifted around the room and noticed belatedly the still absent former angel.

"Charlie, where is dear Vagatha?" he asked her on the sly.

"Oh Vaggie? She was tired after searching around all day, she's in bed."

"I see," he drawled, taking a sip. He would have to address his newfound knowledge at a later date. It wouldn't do to cause a scene amidst all this comradeship.

The night wound down, the group saying their farewells as they began to leave to their own devices. It was a whole lot of hubbub for Fat Nuggets and the stress and subsequent relaxation of the day had worn out its welcome.

Alastor was about to retreat when he felt a shy tug on his coat sleeve. As expected it was Charlie, her face slightly pink from whatever concoctions Husk had whipped up for her.

"Al," she whispered, "we haven't checked you-know-what in a day or two…"

"And?" urged the deer demon, making her work for it.

"Well," she kicked her toe and curled the fabric of his clothes around her fist. "We should check it…"

"Are you saying you'd like to come to my room?" he hummed, back to his teasing.

"Yes!" the demoness stomped her hoof. "Why do you always make everything so difficult?" But she was grinning despite her anger.

He smiled. "I do like to mess with you, my darling."

"I know," she rolled her eyes, both hands wrapped around his upper arm now like an iron vice. "Lead the way, please."

The Radio Demon raised an eyebrow as he took in her unstable condition. She was drunker than he realized, barely able to walk on her own without stumbling. The drinks she had were tall, foamy, and filled with a purple starlight. She couldn't resist asking for more and more, just to see the colors swirl together in the glass. And now she was paying for it.

But he took it in stride, chuckling softly to himself as the demoness struggled to continue up the stairs. He patiently held her upright, encouraging her along with a steady arm.

"Hey lovebirds!" Angel's voice cut through the lobby.

Alastor fought the urge to turn but Charlie's head whipped around.

"What?" she called back, a bit too loud.

Angel smirked, leaning against the bar. "Remember to keep it down, some of us need our beauty sleep!"

Husk palmed his face and cursed himself for giving them all 'one too many' as Charlie's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red at the accusation. Unable to find words, she instead shot Alastor an embarrassed glance before tromping up the stairs with a determined gait.

The deer demon merely laughed, a low rumble that echoed in the lobby as he followed his companion up the steps. The effeminate one sure did indulge in his filth. But he'd let it slide for now, always enjoying how riled up Charlie gets at the smallest provocations.

...

The duo made their way to the Radio Demon's room in a companionable silence, Charlie still stewing from Angel's comment. They entered the dimly lit room and Alastor guided her to sit on the edge of his bed, despite the availability of the couch. She seemed fit to keel over any minute.

He kneeled in front of her. "You're quite intoxicated, my dear. Are you sure you want to do this tonight?" he remarked with concealed concern.

Charlie giggled, her face reddened with alcohol and the thrill of being alone with her business partner. It was quite unbecoming of the Princess of Hell, she thought idly, but her mind was muddy with so much noise from the past and coming days that she simply ignored every other protestation that made its way through her brain.

She gripped his coat lapels and pulled him up till he was standing in front of her on the bed. "We have to…" she sang as she began to slowly peel off his jacket. He let her, easing his shoulders up and out of the long sleeves.

Alastor couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her sudden boldness. "Oh, do we now?" his voice dripping with mock innocence. The Princess of Hell was undressing him, his mind poked. A constant buzz began to radiate through his skull.

Charlie grinned as she tossed his jacket to the side, her fingers deftly beginning their work on the topmost of his shirt buttons. "Absolutely," she said, as seriously as she could muster. She bit her tongue in concentration, fumbling with his bowtie now, a step she skipped in her determination to undress the deer demon.

Alastor moved closer to grant her easier access, entering the space between her knees. He could feel the inside of her thighs rubbing against his own and he lost the ability to speak, so wrapped up was he in her proximity and the feeling of delicate fingers brushing against his neck.

She managed to get his bowtie off, commenting on the complicated way he tied it. Her breathing was heavy in focus and he felt the heat of her breath against his collar. As she leaned off the edge of the bed, Alastor gripped her waist to steady her. She shivered at the sensation of his claws but continued her assault on his buttons, neither one wanting to break the immersion of her task.

One by one she poked each button out, and with each tug of his dress shirt, the Radio Demon felt himself becoming more undone. This was not an appropriate situation for the two business partners. And as much as it thrilled him to push the demoness's buttons, there was something to be said about his reputation as a gentleman. Charlie was not of sound mind, and soon, neither would he.

As she reached the lower part of his shirt, her hands bumping against his belt buckle, Alastor's hand shot out to grip hers. "Let me take it from here, dear," he murmured with effort, moving back towards the wall and away from the intoxicating heat of his companion.

She did not protest, appearing nearly grateful that one of them had any awareness left. Charlie flopped backwards onto his pillow while she waited, humming a breezy tune.

Alastor turned away then, pulling aside his dress shirt to examine his wound himself. It was rippling like heavy rain upon a still sea. But aside from that, he noticed little difference from the last time he had looked upon it. It was large, sure, but its lack of growth lately gave Alastor a brief pause in reflection. What had changed so much since it had grown? And what in Hell was this unknown stain doing to his character? It was making him feel deeply, recall old memories, and tear up in joy. It made him warm in the company of others. It made him sick.

After a moment of some self-admonishment and re-buttoning of clothes, he looked upon the woman still in the room, the determined cause of all his shakiness of self. She was sound asleep, arms splayed above her head, mouth open in light snores.

He shook his head in amusement at the sight of the demoness. He drifted quietly across the room towards her, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face. She mumbled something unintelligible and his fingers lingered at her temple. As Alastor finally brought himself away to conjure up his own makeshift sleeping quarters, Charlie shifted in her sleep and mumbled again. He turned back to her, an ear quirked.

"Alastor..." came the whispered plea, a delicate entreaty steeped in untold longing. It was as though she were pleading with him from the depths of some dream. What exactly she sought he could not tell, yet the shy smile playing upon her lips hinted at something beyond her usual call for attention.

He had to get out of there as soon as possible.

Maybe his radio tower would make for safer sleeping quarters, away from the blonde and her tricky ways.

…

The next morning, Alastor sauntered downstairs all the way from the tippy-top of the hotel, his head held up high.

The kitchen was already a chaotic rumble of staff and guests, all fighting over a plate of breakfast. Niffty was smacking hands away with her spatula, while her knives were carefully held out of reach by Vaggie.

The former angel and current demon of Hell locked eyes momentarily and gave each other twin grimaces before turning away. He would have to address that little issue later. Maybe once all the nonsense of this morning was out of the way.

Shawshank and Ama were already co-conspirators, ducking together at the end of the table, discussing something boring about the weather.

Sylvie was eating next to Tai, both in utter silence, while Pete and Husk were getting on swimmingly, playing a game of cards.

"Good morning ol' chum!" Alastor greeted, before plopping right next to the cat demon and summoning himself a plate of food right out from under Niffty's nose.

Husk didn't look up from his cards, too focused on the game at hand. "Boss," he mumbled in response.

"Gin!" said Pete, ending the round. He sipped on a strangely colored liquid.

"Fuck!" exclaimed Husk, throwing his cards down.

"Ah, Husker, always the epitome of grace in defeat."

Husk grunted in annoyance and turned his whole body away.

"Hmph," said Alastor, sensing he was not wanted. His eyes roamed over the wonderful cacophony of the Hazbin Hotel in this bright and early morning. His little business partner would be thrilled were she to see this, he thought with a small pride. His gaze raked in either direction and she was nowhere to be seen. He began to suspect he ought to have woken her up on his way down… his room was delightfully dark in the mornings.

Angel wandered in then, scantily dressed in pajamas and yawning wide. He took the seat across from Alastor.

The spider demon received his own plate of breakfast and mindlessly eyed the card game between Husker and Pete. He elbowed the so-called poisoner and made a lewd comment that obviously Pete didn't know how to respond to. Husk just shook his head, having heard it all before and continued to lay down his cards.

Not getting the attention he wanted, Angel looked back around the room and noticed a certain someone missing from their ranks. He looked back and forth a few more times before landing on the overly casual looking Radio Demon.

"Ay Smilessss… where's Char?" his voice rough with sleep but with a hint of playfulness rolling off his tongue.

"I assume our dear princess is still wrapped in the arms of Morpheus," said Alastor, not biting.

"Who's Morpheus? Some sort of sex god? Sounds hot."

"The Greek god of sleep, you reprobate."

"Touchy, touchy!" Angel hummed. "Whiskers, have you seen Char? I swear I just saw her last night…" he smiled, gold tooth glinting.

Alastor's teeth sharpened. He knew what the spider was getting at.

"Leave me out of it," Husk mumbled.

"Yeah, where is she? She's missing breakfast!" shouted Niffty from her position over the stove, her face covered in black soot.

Vaggie's attention was caught now, her head swiveling around to look for the missing blonde.

"She never returned to the room last night," Vaggie commented, realizing she slept alone.

"She must've had quite the night and fallen asleep in her office!" supplied the Radio Demon.

"I'll go get her–'' started Vaggie but Alastor quickly stood, offering up his services instead. Vaggie began to protest.

"I insist! The office is off-limits to outsiders."

"What? Why? Since when?"

"I think you know why, dear." He knew about her little rendezvous with Vox, but not of her intentions. If she insisted on working with the enemy, he would be forced to put her in her place. She clearly did not trust him, which is fair, but to cast Vox's scrutiny over the hotel was a no-go in his book.

Vaggie scowled and plopped back in her chair, unable to fight or merely unwilling.

"What made her so tired, I wonder…" crooned Angel, digging into his eggs.

"You're just asking for it…" said Husk.

Alastor stood as casually as he could and walked out of the kitchen. He would have to discreetly wake and retrieve the demoness before anyone else jumped to the wrong conclusions. But he also wondered why it mattered so much to him. Wouldn't it just rile up the gray angel more to know she slept in his quarters? No, he thought, that would make Charlie look bad too, rather than just himself. He would take the heat on her behalf, whatever may come. The Radio Demon was used to taking on all types.

Especially considering the evening they shared, it wouldn't do to attract more observation. The deer demon had spent all night just trying to calm the storm of his Mark and here he was, returning to the maw of the beast. Oh, how he did this to himself.

He teleported in his typical black smoke and appeared in his room.

Expectedly, the demoness was still fast asleep, curled up soundly amongst his blankets. She hugged a pillow to herself and sighed.

Alastor hesitated, observing her peaceful slumber. He wasn't used to seeing her this way, never being privy to what it might be like to wake up next to the sleeping demoness, to share a bed with her. His thoughts tilted for a moment, entertaining the idea. He really needed to snap himself out of it.

Alastor considered waking her up in some disturbing manner, teasing her about her tardiness, and then dragging her back into the hustle and bustle of the hotel's affairs. But then, another, more uncharacteristic impulse washed over him. A desire to let her sleep just a little while longer, to grant her this moment of peace and quiet in a world that she so often worked herself to the brink.

He could get this morning's event started, couldn't he? He wasn't the co-owner of this Hell forsaken place for nothing. Alastor knew her little plottings backwards, despite how closely she guarded her insane ideas. He always looked over her notes, listened to her ramblings, and gave what little feedback he could offer. Whether she took those notes, he had no idea, but that wouldn't stop him from ad-libbing anyway.

Grinning, he tucked the Princess of Hell back in and disappeared to the kitchen before he could get any more bright ideas about his partner.

Back in the bustling kitchen, Alastor rejoined his companions at the breakfast table, a subtle sense of satisfaction lingering in his demeanor. When questioned about Charlie's whereabouts, he simply shrugged and told them she'll be down in a jiffy, his tone betraying none of the sentimentality he felt moments ago.

Alastor found himself oddly at peace. He smiled to himself, content to let the others carry on without him, knowing that away from the chaos and noise, his dear friend was sleeping soundly, undisturbed and undeniably cherished.

…

Charlie awoke in a dark but warm room. She was tightly tucked into some blankets, her shoes removed. The demoness rubbed at her eyes in confusion, not quite remembering how she ended up enfolded in this place.

She kicked the blanket aside and her ruby eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was in Alastor's room, she determined, embarrassment creeping up her neck at the thought of passing out in here, without the deer demon in sight. Did she force him from his own quarters?

She spotted his red coat strewn upon the floor and she froze in her tracks, more memories drifting out of her subconscious. Charlie remembered, quite clearly now, what she had done the previous night. And how at the time she did not even register the intimacy of the gesture.

She went from closing her eyes while he undressed to undressing him herself! She groaned, knowing she won't be able to live this one down anytime soon. She had just wanted to see his wound, she reasoned. The demoness wanted to make sure he was okay and he was being far too slow and annoying for her taste.

Charlie didn't remember actually seeing the progress of his wound, however, and she mentally chided herself for wanting to strip him all over again so she could see it. Couldn't he undress and take notes himself? The sane part of her mind questioned. No, he couldn't be trusted to be honest about the state of his health. That was why she had to bear physical witness…

She made her way to his door, already feeling awakened from the thoughts of last night. The blonde had latched onto him so mindlessly, had tangled with his clothes, felt his warmth on her legs… her face lit up again like a beacon.

Charlie shook her head of the memory, not even remotely prepared to deep dive into it. She was feeling bad enough about sleeping in his room while Vaggie was left alone in their bedroom.

Charlie squeezed her eyes shut, her head pounding with the after effects of too sugary alcohol. She must remind herself to stick to lighter fare or find herself in a similar situation… waking up in a man's room, dizzy with a hangover. And yet, she felt rested and light, eager to get the day started.

She dug through her pockets for her phone and looked for the time. Her vision focused and she saw that it was nearly halfway through the morning and she was terribly late to the rescheduled Redemption Plan Day 1 (Take 2)!

Screeching, she ran down the hallways, her hair a flowing sea of fluffy gold trailing behind her.

…

Charlie tripped and tumbled down a flight of stairs before skidding to a stop on the landing, her horns threatening to poke through. Arms akimbo, she looked down into the lobby as several sets of eyes all turned to look at her.

Everyone was already gathered, a circle of hotel guests and staff, the stacks of supplies already neatly arranged around them.

Angel raised an eyebrow and Vaggie offered her an awkward expression of encouragement.

Charlie was thrown by how organized and prepared they seemed to be. Even when she ran events, it was like pulling teeth getting everyone to cooperate. All that was left was her blessing of the task and two cheerful thumbs up.

Alastor stood at the front, a charming smile adorning his face. Using a single finger, he beckoned her closer with a 'come hither' gesture.

She reacted instantly to the motion, and raced down to stand at her business partner's side. "You did all this, Al? Why didn't you wake me?" she whispered to him.

"You were sleeping so soundly, dear. It would've pained me to bother you. Besides, I can handle these ruffians one way or another." He chuckled through radio static.

Her cheeks puffed in appreciation. She truly did owe him her eternal gratitude. She marveled at the efficiency in which Alastor had organized everything in her absence. Charlie felt she could relax, knowing that there was someone there to catch her. He looked at her then, offering a careless smile of his and Charlie's heart skipped. She immediately recalled their closeless of last night and almost stopped breathing. She still couldn't believe herself, and how he had just let her do it! He was so nonchalant about the whole thing, even now! She wished she could read his mind, but that smile of his was misleading as always.

She yanked her head sideways, stepped two feet away from him, and looked upon the gathered group.

"Welcome to Redemption Plan Day 1 2.0!, also known as…" Charlie pulled something from behind herself. It was a collage made from pieces of cut-up magazines and doodles all glued together. The images combined memories from her Hellborn youth. "Re-collage-tion Day!"

She was met with confused silence and she began to explain. "Recollection plus collage! The best way to move forward is to acknowledge our past. It doesn't define us, but we must recognize it so we may become better than we once were!"

Charlie explained the intricacies of cutting out images to form new shapes that will describe their life story. She encouraged drawing in missing images and to also feel free to be as creative as they want. It was their story to tell.

The group eyed each other, some more hesitant than others to deep dive into who they were or even still are.

Vaggie definitely looked uncomfortable at the prospect, and Husk just sighed. Angel looked bored and a mixture of shame, fear, and regret crossed the rest of their faces.

Did she misjudge this activity? Charlie thought briefly. No. She cradled her fist, eyes narrowing, redemption can only happen to those who can embrace and release their past selves.

"Have at it! And then we'll have show-and-tell time!" She clapped with glee.

Once everyone got started (after Charlie stood over their shoulder until they did), the demoness turned to the last in the group to even move a muscle.

"Alllllll~" she sang, holding up supplies for her partner. She held them out in front of her and the demon in question looked at her like she was insane.

"Wasn't me setting up good enough for you, darling?" he batted his eyes at her.

"It was very appreciated, Alastor, but nope!" She pressed some paper, glue, and scissors into his hands. "Remember you said you'd try?" she said under her breath.

"I would try something worth trying, not this mindless magazine mumbo-jumbo."

"How would you know it's worth trying until you tried it!" Charlie urged, her eyes pleading.

"Can't argue with that," he rolled his eyes, accepting the materials.

Charlie gave him one last grateful look before skipping along to the other sinners.

Alastor immediately dumped the materials on the floor after she turned her back. Who needed scissors when you had magic?

AN: I was quite excited for this chapter. Getting a little... close, the two of them. The scene in his bedroom was one of the first scenes I tried drawing art for and dang, it was hard haha I didn't have their designs down yet. Also, the first redemption activity begins! Hope you enjoy this one and I appreciate everyones' comments!