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Red lights flickered from above, the sour scent of death surrounding him like a all too familiar friend. The type that sticks to your hip and clings there well past it’s welcome, seeping into your bones if they only could. Fine hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, a normal response for him at least to this presence.
Yes, death was a close friend to Alastor, one he had known for well over a century at this point and transcending his own death itself. He had met it in dark alleyways, valleys in well forgotten and overgrown properties, muggy swamps and quiet hunting grounds, and now… now he had brushed hands with it on a battle ground. Yes, Alastor had narrowly avoided this fateful friend thanks to his own strength that had dwindled away after his retreat. It was honestly a miracle he had managed to even pull himself up to his radio station to stitch himself together with trembling hands. Should he get someone else to help with this? Most likely, yes, but that would mean allowing someone to see him in such a sorry (pathetic) state. Even a friend, (did he even have any of those?) he didn’t- couldn't appear weak. Weakness was death.
Alastor was a friend of death and pain, he had experience with both and after shedding his coat and ruined dress shirt to see the damage, he had taken a deep breath and settled in to patch himself up. Using what little energy he could, he summoned a needle and thread from the void and collapsed into a sitting position on the floor beside his radio equipment. A wound this severe was a very rare event for him, only having happened one other time, due to this when he finally steadied his hand enough to thread the needle he had to brace himself so he could focus as he pinched his skin together and slowly began to sew the cut closed with jagged movements. The stitches were far from professional, but they did the job and sealed the wound shut. He wasn't sure how long he had been up here, but he could feel his energy failing him as he wiped the blood- his blood- from his chin, the adrenaline from the fight wore off finally and fatigue and pain settled into his bones.
His ribs and neck hurt, from the cut and then the forceful hit to that wall, causing him to reach a hand up to gently graze his neck to check for damage there too while the sound of the pop from the hit replayed in his mind like a never ending record. Trembling claws grazed over a bump on the back of his neck, and pulled away wet with darkened blood. He was so focused on nearly being severed in half that he hadn't even noticed the slow trickle down the back of his neck from a small cut that the cement of the hotel had given him. Wincing in pain, he used his shaking arms to push himself up to standing and stumbled over to a cabinet that had once hung on the wall, now crashed open on a table that miraculously still stood under it, and pried it open. Inside were extra bandages, these ones smaller and translucent than what he kept in the storage he had with him at all times thanks to the void.
This cut would be easier to see thanks to it’s placement on the back of his neck, just under his nape. A clean rag was produced from the cabinet as well as a small bottle of alcohol he used to clean what little cuts he did manage to come across in his daily life. Soaking the rag and taking a small breath to brace himself, he settled the smile back into place (when had it nearly slipped?) and before he could second guess himself he firmly pressed the rag to the cut. His smile wobbled but stayed in place even as he hissed out the pain, using his free hand to open the bandage by tucking his middle finger under the center of it where the seam was and thumbing it open. Once the wound was deemed clean enough he placed there bandage over it and leaned his weight onto the table, his gaze pulled up to a cracked mirror that reflected from the floorboards.
He looked absolutely horrendous. His hair was a mess, his body trembling from pain and exhaustion, his eyes unfocused (maybe he should look into the symptoms of a concussion). Thank the lord no one had seen him after his fight and hasty retreat, he would have to kill them and didn't have the energy for that now.
Banging outside caught his attention, one of his ears flicking minutely toward the sound before he could stop the instinctual movement, along with a litany of voices. Pulling the smile back firmly into place, ignoring how painful it was as he pushed himself away from the table and closer to the punched out windows he peered outside and caught sight of the rest of the residents seeming to start the rebuilding process.
Hmph. so they’re all happily rebuilding without him?
He pushed back the small twinge that felt almost like hurt away and turned away from the window, sinking down into his surprisingly not broken broadcasting chair. These people weren't his friends, he needs to keep sights on his overall goals. He already started to stray from his path, becoming attached with such sentimental ideas as friendship. What a blasphemous idea. Friends were weakness, things you could use to twist someone into doing your bidding. He couldn't afford such a thing.
Well, they would be just fine without him for a while, he reasoned as his eyelids drooped. Besides, he wasn't in the shape he needed to be to help them in at all and he could not let them see him like this. With his last conscious thought, he sent his shadow to watch over the entrance to the radio station so he could sleep and regain strength for a while, knowing the shadow would alert him if anyone came poking around.
A week passed by, Alastor had made his grand reappearance after the hotel had been rebuilt thanks to Lucifer’s magical help. Sure enough, Charlie and her wayward residents had come sniffing around his radio tower, his shadow having alerted him just in time for him to melt into the shadows and watch as they discussed what could be salvaged for him. It seemed that despite his disappearance and their lack of knowledge for his whereabouts did little to make Charlie doubt whether he was alive or not. Maybe it was because Husker and Niffty weren't worried, he did hold their soul contracts after all. They would be able to feel it if those broke.
He had spent the week, watching from the shadows as the hotel was rebuilt bigger and grander than ever, only exiting when he was absolutely sure he was alone so he could eat and check his bandages and stitches. The wound on his neck healed up quite easily, no scar in sight, but the cut across his front was another story. It was much too deep and tricky to heal, angelic steel did that he supposed. Charlie had been overjoyed to see him, singing and smiling and appearing to be completely fine (he wasn’t), and had hugged him along with Vaggie, Niffty and even Angel. His eyes carefully avoided Husker, knowing the cat sinner would pick up on the painful wince he hid in his eyes when Charlie’s arms wrapped around his front and put pressure on his wound.
The rest of the week had passed by slowly it felt, spent with him making only the necessary appearances to come across as okay to the residents. The rest of the time, he spent in his own quarters trying to fix his mic. Unfortunately that seemed to take more power than he had realized, having never dealt with it being broken before, and the process was slow. He spent what little energy he could spare from healing his wound toward manifesting the mic as whole again. Each time added on a small patch to the crack where it was broken, and a huffy but once again exhausted Alastor.
When he walked down for breakfast on the seventh day since the battle, he was interrupted in his stride for his cup of coffee by a excited Charlie who had excitedly jumped in front of him and bounced on the balls of her feet, exclaiming to him that the hotel was officially open now and they already had a couple applicants. He had merely smiled and side stepped her to grab his favorite mug- somehow the thing had survived the crash and burning rubble of the original hotel- and poured himself a cup from the freshly brewed pot.
He attempted to appear casual and relaxed, leaning back against the counter as he sipped on his coffee, reveling in the bitterness of it and- oh, was that spice notes? Nifty must be in a good mood today to break out their favorite roast. His wound smarted just under his left shoulder as he raised the mug for a second sip, hiding the wince behind his cup so the princess wouldn't notice.
“That’s wonderful, my dear.” He grinned at her, putting a little more effort into it as he tried to ignore the stinging sensation. “Better get to going over those applications then, hmm?” Patting her shoulder, he moved to step past her and make his way back up to his room so he could sit outside on the covered balcony but was stopped by Vaggie who was standing outside of the kitchen with hands on her hips.
“We actually could use your insight on this, Alastor.” She narrowed her eye at him and reached out to grab his shoulder as he stepped past her. He just narrowly avoided wincing as her fingertips caught the edges of his stitching and turned to face her, dislodging the unwelcome touch. He narrowed his own eyes at her and resisted the urge to let his antlers grow in a show of irritation toward the fallen angel.
“And why is that?” He hummed, watching as Vaggie placed the hand that had been on his shoulder back on her hip. He couldn't see any reason why he should be needed to look over residency applications of all things, he had had no say in Sir Pentious staying here so why begin now?
“Because you’re a sponsor and we really could use insight on these particular applicants,” Charlie explained as she stepped up to stand next to Vaggie, placing a hand on her girlfriends shoulder. “They come from Cannibal Town.”
“And we could use your help with the hotel, since you left us high and dry after your shield fell.” Vaggie pressed, narrowing her eye. Ever since he had shown back up, seemingly fine, she had suspected that he had simply let them fight and watched from the shadows. Adam had been fine after breaking the shield, after all, and Alastor seemed uninjured.
Alastor raised an eyebrow in return at that, resisting the urge to poke fun at how Vaggie herself hadn't really been injured either save for a few small cuts and bruises. Best not to tempt her, he didn't particularly desire to have to risk revealing his injury or have to use much needed energy in defending himself against her wrath. He hadn't really expected anyone from Cannibal Town to actually be interested in redemption, but here he was. Would he be able to trust these new residents to not out his current state if they caught his flinching at small movements? Cannibal Town residents were notorious for easily catching onto minute facial movements. Maybe it was for the best that he go over these applicants after all.
“Alright,” he grinned and stepped back into the shadows, much to Vaggie’s annoyance, remerging in the girl’s office just down the hallway. He took the few spare moments he had before they caught up with him to shift the collar of his dress shirt to the side, checking to make sure the stitches hadn't been ruptured. Thankfully, they held just fine and he released his shirt just in time to settle into a chair as the girls entered the office.
Setting his coffee aside he leaned over the desk, grinning up at them as Charlie returned it while Vaggie frowned in annoyance. They walked over to stand beside him, Alastor ever the gentleman standing up to pull the chair out for Charlie and pushing her in. He chuckled quietly at the aggravated huff from Vaggie, now standing beside him, while Charlie leaned down to pull a file out of the top drawer in the desk. Pulling out two applicants, she set them out for Alastor to look over. Leaning over her shoulder, he braced his weight on the chair and ignored the pulling sensation near his sternum as he read over her shoulder.
Both applicants from Cannibal Town, had been in hell for only six months and their sins were relatively small- or, at least small in comparison to most Cannibal Town residents. One had killed their significant other and had to turn to cannibalism out of desperation when they had been trapped after a natural disaster. The other had been greedy in life, having been short tempered they had beaten a young man over the head over a simple mistake with a sandwich. The young man had lived.
Raising a eyebrow, he couldn't help but quietly wonder why on earth those two had even ended up here, but shrugged and pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He didn't have a clue what got people into heaven or hell at this point, and was not about to begin questioning it what with a tentative agreement with Heaven possibly on the horizon. “They appear to be fine with me, interview them if you must.” He stood up and cut off a sharp inhale before it could escape as he felt a small snapping sensation at his sternum.
That could not be good.
Maybe everything would be fine. It had been a week, maybe his wound has healed enough for the stitches to not be necessary anymore. Maybe he would be lucky.
Unlikely, knowing him.
“Well, if that’s all you two needed from me, I’ll be taking my coffee on my balcony. Good morning,” he smiled at them before melting into the shadows, trying not to panic and hoping he wasn't bleeding too much yet.
“…he left his coffee,” Vaggie noted, glancing over at the cup as she and Charlie sat in silence.
Up in his room, Alastor dashed to his bathroom and discarded his clothes quickly on the bathroom floor as he unbuttoned his shirt to check the stitch work. Sure enough, one had ruptured near his sternum and started to bleed. More concerning though was the angry red coloring that surrounded the wound and, worse, the puffy unhealed cut appeared to be getting infected if the slight green tinge under the stitching was anything to go by.
Fuck. In his pained haze he hadn't cleaned the wound, and now he was paying the price. Huffing in aggravation toward himself, he summoned the needle and thread once again along with the bottle of alcohol. Picking up a clean wash rag he doused it in alcohol and, clenching his jaw in a close lipped smile he steeled himself before pressing the rag down over the cut. Searing pain flowed through him, causing him to clench his jaw even more as he tried to keep a whimper in while gently pressing the cloth over the length of his cut. By the time he had thoroughly disinfected it he was shaking all over again and blood trickled down his chin from where his sharp teeth had pierced his gums and inside of his mouth.
He threaded the needle, forcing his hand to still, and restitched the ruptured seem before summoning bandages and wrapping them around his wound. Once he was bandaged up and the medical supplies put back into place where they belonged, he redressed and opened the bathroom door- only to find Niffty standing outside of it with a wide eye. He paused in the doorway and tilted his head, waiting for her to speak- hoping she hadn't heard anything. The little demon could not keep a secret to save her afterlife, and was exactly the last person he’d want to find out about his wound if anyone were to discover it- lord forbid. Everyone would know about it within ten minutes if she had heard even a whimper.
“Charlie wanted me to get you, she says we’re doing a celebratory lunch!” She smiled up at him, unaware of the relief that flooded him. She hadn't heard anything then, he chuckled as she grabbed his hand to drag him down the stairs. When she started to get frustrated that he wasn't going as fast as she desired, he merely let go of her hand and encouraged her to go ahead of him. She had nodded eagerly before darting off down the rest of the stairs, leaving Alastor to descend the stairs at the careful pace he preferred with his current state.
Once standing in the lobby, he watched for a moment as the residents bustled about, carrying trays of food from the kitchen and to the dining room across the lobby, his eyes catching sight of Lucifer as he strolled past with a tray of drinks in his hands. The two of them made eye contact, Lucifer’s smile dipping into a displeased glower, but he didn't stop to talk or taunt him and slipped into the dining room to set the drinks with the cutlery.
After a moment, Alastor followed them into the dining room, finding everyone but Charlie and Niffty in the large room setting trays of food down in front of pre-placed plates and silverware. Lucifer had just finished setting the last of the drinks down by the plates and looked up as Alastor entered, his smile seeming to sharpen slightly at the sight of the Radio Demon but softened when Charlie entered behind Alastor with a final plate of food as Niffty trailed behind her. His smile sharpening with mischief as a idea formed, and ever the gentleman, Alastor pulled the chair at the head of the table out and gestured for Charlie to take it, noticing the irritated look Lucifer shot his way out of his peripheral vision as he carefully pushed her in before taking a seat to her right himself.
“Thank you, Alastor,” she smiled before turning to the rest of the table as everyone took their respective seats. “We got our first applicants since the hotel reopened, things are gonna pick up, so I just wanted to spend some time with everyone before things get crazy.” She smiled and picked up her drink, standing and holding it out for everyone to toast. “A toast, to a family and a successful hotel!” She grinned as everyone followed her lead, clinking their drinks together before they all set their drinks down and started to pass the food around the table. She hadn't gone all out, she had never been a very big cook, nothing like Alastor or Niffty at least. But she managed, and had made them a pile of different types of sandwiches, dips, and a assortment of chips and veggies for the dips. For desert, she had baked brownies, and knowing Alastor’s dislike for sweets she had also tried to include him in with the desert by making a simple fruit salad with fruits she thought he may like. To be honest, she had never really seen him eat anything other than meat, but who didn't like fruit?
Conversations between friends filled the room, Charlie and Vaggie talking together, Angel and Husk, Niffty prattling about her war against bugs with a very uneasy Lucifer, Alastor watched on in amusement to that particular one. He was more than happy to enjoy the light lunch and just listen in, noting small comments he overheard from each conversation to himself to possibly use to his own entertainment later on. However, he pointedly didn't sip from the drink in front of him. He had caught a whiff of it as they toasted, realizing it was most definitely some sort of alcoholic drink, and had decided not to just in case it exacerbated his wound or loosened his lips and caused him to let something slip about the fight and his current state.
A sudden shout pulled him out of his musing, bringing his attention to Lucifer who now sat with a glob of mustard dripping off his nose and a wide eyed Angel sitting wide eyed two seats down from him with a now limp and empty mustard packet still stretched out in his hand, Husk also frozen but trying not to snicker from his ducked position. He couldn't help his smile stretching into a entertained grin as he leaned forward to watch and see what would happen now, assuming that whatever had led up to this had come from Angel originally aiming the mustard packet in his hand at Husk. The table had settled into a tense silence, Charlie standing beside him and ready to intervene as the King of Hell narrowed his eyes at Angel, standing himself- not much of a height difference there, Alastor thought to himself in amusement- and before anyone could react he grinned and snatched a spoonful of hummus before flinging it into Angel’s hair. With that simple attack, the table broke out into outright chaos as everyone dove for either cover or ammo, sauces and foods flying across the room.
Alastor simply stood and stepped back, enjoying the chaos but not wanting to partake in the mess, seeing no reason to soil his clothing unnecessarily especially since he was having to channel the majority of his energy toward healing himself still and didn't particularly want to spare any just to snap his clothes clean. Shadow stepping was one thing, it took hardly any effort or energy for him now that he had been doing it for the entirety of his existence in hell, but calling up his abilities and focusing them on something so minute? That required a little more focus.
It would seem he hadn't distanced himself enough though, as a piece of ham snagged onto one of his antlers, causing him to snap his attention to the poor soul who had thrown it. Narrowing his eyes when he spotted the culprit, he reached up with his right hand- thankfully it had landed on that antler so he had no need to possibly cause strain on the higher up stitching- and flicked it off all while keeping his eyes locked with a positively shit eating grinning Lucifer. Naturally, it had to have been him, he couldn't just pass it off as a accidental collateral damage. No, this was clearly a targeted attack based on how the King was turned toward him and looking pleased with himself.
Allowing his grin to stretch into a mischievous one, he melted into the shadows along the walls, Lucifer’s own grin only growing as he recognized the move as what it was. A stealth attack. He slowly began turning, his eyes scanning the room in hopes of catching Alastor’s reemergence into the room, but in his focus he failed to catch Alastor manifesting in the shadows underneath the table. While he was distracted, Alastor sent his shadow out to hold Lucifer’s focus by acting as if he was Alastor himself reemerging from the shadowed wall directly behind him. Whilst he was waiting for the faux Radio Demon to emerge, Alastor silently shifted to crouch out of the view of the other demons in the room but now beside the table. A large bowl of potato salad sat atop the table beside him, and he slid it off and into his hands.
He stood quickly and upended the bowl over the King’s head, letting it rest atop his hair like a mock crown. The room settled into silence as everyone realized Alastor had joined the fray, and had targeted Lucifer of all people. Charlie froze atop the table, a handful of carrots still clenched in her hands and a smile fading fast from her face as she waited with bated breath to see how her dad would react, moderately afraid she would have to intervene this time to prevent either of them from killing the other- well, really, Lucifer from killing Alastor. She doubted Al would actually try to kill her dad, she wasn't stupid and knew that the Radio Demon purposefully tried to stay on her good side for the most part.
The silence stretched as Lucifer slowly turned, tipping the bowl up just enough to look up at Alastor, potatoes and mayo dripping down his hair and nose, his eyes flashing red for only a moment before returning to normal. To his credit, Alastor didn't back down, too prideful even to his end despite knowing he was already injured and not up to snuff- not that anyone else knew of course. The tense atmosphere of the room, thick enough to be cut with a knife, was suddenly broken when Lucifer launched himself at Alastor and tackled him, surprising everyone. Charlie along with everyone scrambled to see what was happening on the floor on the other side of the table, the princess hopping down to pull her dad off when she realized neither party were throwing punches but instead were trying to grab onto a packed of mustard that sat by a table leg.
“Dad!” Charlie couldn't help but laugh as she pulled him off, stepping between the two of them and glancing down at Alastor who was sitting up on his elbows now. She turned back to her dad, a tired but amused smile on her face. “I think that’s enough,” she glanced over and nodded to Vaggie who was stepping up beside the king, wiping a smear of hummus off her cheek.
“I’ll clean,” Niffty hopped up on the table, noticeably completely clean herself, and already starting on clearing the table. The rest of the residents all nodded and started to clear out of the living room, but paused when they heard a intake of breath from Charlie. Turning to see what had caused the reaction from her, everyone’s eyes followed her gaze down to Alastor who was still laying on the floor.
He quirked an eyebrow and a moment later realized what had caught her attention, in the fray with Lucifer one of his stitches must have been irritated or burst, but now there was a small circle of blood forming just where his sternum was. The adrenaline coursing through him during the scuffle with Lucifer must have distracted him from the stinging pain, but he was very much aware of it now.
“Alastor, you’re bleeding!” Charlie whirled around and knelt down beside him, worry crossing her features as she attempted to reach for him only for Alastor to melt into the shadows and reemerge on the other side of the dining room.
“I assure you, Charlie, I’m fine. It’s just a pesky stain from one of the dips.” He attempted to cover for himself, but when he turned to leave he was met with a frowning Angel Dust and Husker blocking the doorway.
“There was no red anythin’ on that table,” Angel pointed out, crossing his arms, the frown telling Alastor that he was unhappy with the excuse but was that worry in his eyes? Blasphemous. Scoffing them off, Alastor glanced over his shoulder to find a now worried Charlie standing next to a frowning Vaggie, both with their arms crossed over their chests. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, a unimpressed look in his eyes.
“Alastor, you’re hurt.” Charlie sighed and walked around the table to stand beside him, but didn't try to touch him again. “Dad didn't tackle you with enough force to cause that, so what did?”
He was about to make another simple excuse, maybe claim that he had simply cut his hand earlier while making breakfast in his room and it must have reopened when Lucifer tackled him, but Niffty was faster than him. She scurried over and before he could react, she had already popped open a couple buttons just where the blood was seeping out, revealing a larger spot on the bandages underneath.
So, more than one stitch burst then, he thought to himself as his hands flew to fix the buttons while he shifted away from the little maid. “Niffty, darling, we’ve discussed boundaries before remember?” He tried to shift the attention in the room off himself to no avail, glancing up to see the even more worried look in Charlie’s eyes.
“Al…” she stepped forward, her hand hesitating in the air just in front of him, wanting to reach out, wanting to help him, but knowing how averse he was to touch and how unwelcoming he found it.
“I assure you, I am okay.” He tried once again, forcing the grin into place as the stinging sensation climbed up to more of a constant tugging. He needed to get away, quickly, before the rest of the stitches burst.
“Clearly, you’re not,” everyone turned a surprised look to Lucifer, who had decided to step in, a serious look on his face now. He may not like Alastor, and under different circumstances he could care less what happened to him, but he had seen how much this man meant to his daughter and her dream. He could put aside his feelings to at least make sure the sinner was able to at least stand without bleeding out.
Red eyes blinked in surprise as Lucifer walked over to them, standing next to his daughter, and it was this moment that Alastor realized he was being ganged up on and metaphorically cornered. He could shadow step to his room, sure, but the crowd would just follow him up there and demand answers. He would never hear the end of it until he came up with an excuse that was believable or told them what happened, and seeing as the wound wasn't going to heal anytime soon it seemed, he only really had one choice. They hadn't believed any excuse he had come up with, and now had seen he had bandages on so they knew it wasn't a small wound one would get from just cleaning or cooking.
Sighing, his ears pinned back for just a moment before he stepped back, needing space before he felt like he was being smothered along with ganged up on. The movement caught Husk’s attention, the sinner having never seen Alastor back down from anyone before, only serving to heighten his curiosity. The cat demon honestly wasn't all that concerned, he knew Alastor could handle himself, and honestly even if he couldn't he really could not bring himself to be concerned for him. Not after everything the other demon had put him through.
“Fine, fine,” Alastor huffed and crossed his arms over his chest protectively. “I did fight Adam,” he let his gaze land on Vaggie, grin sharpening as her eye widened just slightly.
“But we didn't see you, and Adam was fine…” Charlie trailed off as the realization dawned on her, the blood, the bandages, Alastor disappearing for so long right after Adam had destroyed the shield. Her eyes widened and her hands covered her mouth, tears pricking her eyes. “You were hurt, weren't you?” Shakily, she stepped closer to him and reached a hand out for his, which he allowed her to take. At least she wasn't trying to check his wound.
He ground his teeth despite his smile, and simply nodded, his gaze moving from Vaggie to Charlie. “Al, I’m so so sorry,” Charlie whispered, a tear streaming down her face. They hadn't even gone looking for him, everyone had just assumed he would come back in time since Husk and Niffty could still feel their soul contracts were active. She had never considered he had been drastically injured, the idea of it being possible hadn't crossed her mind. Alastor had just always seemed so… untouchable.
“Can we do anything to help?” Vaggie surprised him by asking as she reached out to gently pull Charlie away, recognizing that Alastor had stepped back in desire for space. He and the fallen angel never really got along, but ever since the battle he had grown to harbor some respect for her- not that he would ever allow that to be something she or anyone would know. It seemed the same sentiment was being returned now, though.
A quick glance toward Niffty, Angel and Husk was all Vaggie needed to know that this was something that was better left with the four of them. “Can you three work on cleaning this mess up while we help Alastor?” She turned to them, ignoring the way they seemed to deflate and groan at the loss of juicy information, but got to work cleaning up the food that littered the room. Meanwhile Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie and even Lucifer made their way to the infirmary ward they had built into the hotel to help them clean and heal after the battle.
A examination chair was wiped down with a sanitation cloth as Vaggie locked the door behind them, and for once Alastor was thankful for the lack of windows in this area of the hotel. There was no possible way anyone else could see him in such a state, and though his pride was not going to recover from this anytime soon he had to admit to himself that he was reaching his limit of knowledge on healing this wound. He didn't particularly want to die from a infected wound, that was almost worse somehow than being remembered as a altruist.
Settling into the chair after removing his coat, he unbuttoned the rest of the shirt and removed it as well, allowing the three in the room to get a complete look at his bandages. The blood soaking through at his sternum had started to dry, thankfully, but he could still feel that dull tugging sensation. The bandages would need to be removed to access the wound and fix whatever had been pulled, and seeing as Charlie was still too upset over her lack of judgment and Alastor trusted Lucifer about as far as he could throw him, Vaggie was the one to pick up the scissors and carefully cut away the bandaging.
Once the bandaging was entirely removed, Vaggie stepped back to assess the wound giving Charlie and Lucifer a clear view of the damage. Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise, he hadn't been expecting it to be such a major injury that he had managed to hide from them for a entire week, and Charlie let out a startled gasp. “Alastor…” the tears were back, pricking Charlie’s eyes again as she leaned into her dad for support while Vaggie looked over the wound.
“What kind of stitching is this? It’s horrible,” she commented, already deciding it would need to be ripped out and done properly.
“Mine,” Alastor narrowed his eyes at her, his smile firmly in place. “Pardon my lack of medical knowledge, this doesn't tend to happen often.” He couldn't help but snap, feeling a sense of shame and defensiveness wash over him.
“You mean to tell me you stitched yourself back up? No numbing cream, or medical supplies otherwise?” Vaggie raised her eyebrows as she glanced over to Lucifer and Charlie. The king was rubbing a comforting hand against Charlie’s back, and the princess was clearly not taking the news well, barely holding herself back from launching herself at Alastor to hug him and profusely apologize.
Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, Vaggie turned back to Alastor and picked the scissors back up. “We’ll need to take the stitches out so we can do them again, properly this time. They're too spaced out, that’s why they ripped.” Alastor simply nodded and braced himself as Vaggie set to work, but surprisingly she was careful and delicate, causing minimal pain for him as the stitches were cut and removed. “How did you even get this injury anyway?” She asked, intending on distracting him as she was getting ready to apply a disinfectant to the area when she spotted the start of the infection. She made a point not to mention it, knowing it would only upset Charlie further, but her gaze was caught by Lucifer. The King of Hell had been watching her every move from over her shoulder and had likely noticed it as well and came to the same conclusion.
“Adam and I were fighting, and he managed to catch me off guard by destroying my mic. He took the chance and struck with his guitar.. er, sword?” Alastor explained flippantly, pausing when he remembered the odd shape of the weapon. It had resembled what looked sort of like a guitar but with a blade built into it, very odd.
This caught Lucifer’s attention, furrowing his brow as he let go of Charlie to step closer to Alastor and examined the wound. “You were struck by a angelic weapon, and survived the strike?” He asked upon seeing just how deep the cut was. It started just above his right hip and ended slightly above his heart and under his left shoulder. Any deeper and he would have definitely experienced some internal damage for sure if he hadn't already.
Alastor nodded, his attention firmly on the king now as his unease bled into his tensed body language but his smile never dropped. “Yes, shocking, I know,” he stated dryly but was surprised when Lucifer raised his gaze to meet Alastor’s.
“Well, you may be in luck,” he smirked at the sinner, knowing he was going to enjoy the next few moments of reaction he got out of him. “I should be able to heal you up, then.”
“You can do that?” Charlie and Vaggie asked at the same time, Alastor keeping eye contact with Lucifer as realization set in. He could either choose to let this wound heal on its own, however slowly that takes, and risk being caught by other demons like Vox or not be able to protect the hotel should it be attacked, or he could accept the help from Lucifer and possibly owe him.
He could not make another deal, he had nothing to deal with anyway and he couldn't let anyone in on his current one regardless. Besides, he would not make a deal with Lucifer of all people even if he had anything to give him.
“Yeah, I can,” Lucifer smiled at the two from over his shoulder before turning back to Alastor and arching a eyebrow. “What do you say, Bambi?” He teased quietly as the girls talked behind him about whether Charlie may have that ability as well.
Ignoring the nickname, Alastor narrowed his eyes at him and clenched his hands into fists. “What would you want in return?” He knew that nothing came free in hell, and he was far from a fresh dead who wouldn't know to ask up front what would be needed of them in return. However, much to his surprise, Lucifer simply shrugged.
“Nothing, you’ve already done enough for my daughter and there isn't much you could do for me seeing as I'm the King. I can have nearly everything I want. I just want you to know I did something for you.” Lucifer grinned, knowing that the knowledge that he had done the sinner a favor would likely eat at the demon until he came up with some sort of way to “repay” him. Maybe he would make his jambalaya, Charlie had raved to him about it recently but he was not about to request it himself.
Alastor searched his expression for a moment, looking for any sign of deceit and finding none, so reluctantly he nodded and watched as Lucifer grinned and rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“You may want to brace yourself,” he warned before a warm glow emitted from his palms. Alastor braced himself and repressed the urge to back away, for once not paying attention as his ears flattened back when Lucifer raised his hands and let them begin to hover over the start of the injury just above his hip. A sharp stinging sensation muddled with a throbbing and pulling, but it wasn't anything he felt he couldn't handle so he watched on as Lucifer moved his hands slowly up the gash. He had been right, the wound was healing but as it was healed a fresh scar stood in it’s place.
It took around twenty minutes, but eventually Lucifer finished healing him and dropped his hands, stepping back with a smirk as Alastor sat up. Charlie, seeing he was okay, launched herself at him and knocked him right back into the seat with the force of her hug. Gently patting her back, he gave Lucifer a thankful nod before his gaze was pulled to Vaggie as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You got lucky that we found out before it got worse, next time just tell us okay?”
He hummed but agreed as he snapped a fresh shirt on before slipping on his jacket. Would he honor that agreement?
Unlikely.
However, knowing Lucifer healed him was a nice reassurance that he wasn't going to be killed by the king anytime soon and would likely be able to at least trust him if he ever needed to in defense of the hotel.
For now, however, he had a hankering for some jambalaya.