Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lute landed a firm kick to Vaggie's torso, knocking her to the lobby's floor. Vaggie grimaced as she could feel her bruised ribs throbbing with each breath. She couldn't let the adrenaline fade now, not when Lute had about the same amount of energy as when they started.

Unfortunately, Lute was above her before she could even begin to get up. Her ponytail was pulled hard, hurting her scalp and pulling her head back. A sinister voice she knew all too well began whispering in her ear.

“You always were weak.”

A shiver ran down her spine. She couldn't let Lute get the best of her again. She had to fight, no matter the cost. She desperately reached for her spear, lightly moaning in exhaustion as Lute retrieved it for herself.

She couldn't even blink before a searing white hot pain blossomed in her lower back. Her legs buzzed with a burning, staticy feeling as she was pinned. She let out a pained scream, whimpering as she was left immobilized by her own spear rooted deep in her back.

The lobby blurred around her as her ears began to ring, but it didn't block the following taunt of her attacker. “So, I'll spare you the pain of seeing your demon bitch die.”

She couldn't let herself be stopped. If she let Lute win, if she let her get away again, Charlie would be in danger. Charlie would be killed. Her empty eye throbbed as a painful reminder.

She saw the alleyway, she saw her missing eye in a puddle of ichor, she saw it being stabbed, forever ruined. She saw the silhouettes of her confidant and mentor forsake her. She felt the agony of having her wings ripped from the seams.

All. Over. Again.

She was going to die. Charlie was going to die. Her heart was trying to escape with how fast it was beating. They were going to die.

I need to live.

She was going to die.

I need to live.

Her wings sprouted from the scars on her back, feathered appendages ripping through her uniform and knocking Lute in the face, causing her to stumble back.

For a second, Lute stood askance, inherently baffled. “Wha-...how did…?”

Vaggie let out a noise animalistic in nature. Her eye burned as she pushed herself up and wheeled on the exorcist responsible for the mental anguish she'd felt for years on end. She snarled as nothing but pure instinct flowed through her veins.

She flapped her wings, rocketing herself towards the lieutenant in a fury. Lute was taken aback by the sudden animosity, unable to stop Vaggie from tackling her to the ground. Vaggie socked her in the face hard enough to crack the mask, making it glitch, disrupting her vision.

Lute gagged as she felt a firm grip around her throat, only squeezing tighter with every second. She tried to pry the hand off as another punch landed, this time breaking part of the mask, exposing her cheek. She kicked Vaggie's legs in hopes of stunning her, but the fallen exorcist was unfazed, putting all of her strength into her arms and torso to hold herself up.

Vaggie fought the tears forming in her eye as her lower half seared in agony. Her spear was still embedded deep, and she suppressed the urge to vomit as she felt her spinal cord grate against it.

She eyed the blurry lobby around her, knowing she couldn't overpower Lute for much longer. The scaffolding was damaged, one hit away from crumbling...

She strangled Lute even tighter, ignoring the hands clawing at her wrist. She held firm, before shooting off like a missile towards the weakened foundation, with her rival still in her grasp. Her wings may be newer, and her muscles may be out of practice, but her memory was still sharp. She knew how to fly in combat.

She remained in the air, and used her momentum to throw Lute into the wreckage with a growl. Lute yelped as she was suddenly pinned.

Vaggie hastily ripped her spear out, groaning as she could feel tissue and skin rip apart. Her legs dangled helplessly as she flew forward and sliced the shaky railing, causing rubble to fall from above and rain down upon the exorcist below her.

Lute screamed as she was crushed, trying to shield herself with her arm, to no avail. Dust sprouted as the rubble settled around her.

Vaggie touched down, ignoring the numbness in her toes. The second she reached the ground, it was like a bolt of lightning sparked through her lower half, trailing all the way up to the large gash that tore through her spine. She fell to the ground with a yelp as her nerves lit ablaze in debilitating agony.

Through her own ragged breathing and the ringing in her ears, she could hear a light groan coming from a few feet away. Lute was still alive, and possibly getting back up.

Her fist clenched tightly around the spear still in her hand. Her other dug her nails into the tattered floor, leaving noticeable indents. Her teeth clenched as she bit her tongue to possibly stave off the pain in her back.

Numbness was spreading to her knees, and the burning tingle in her nerves was beginning to fade. She needed to get up, before the adrenaline faded. And it was fading fast.

She heard a scream from far above. A pained and helpless, yet familiar scream. A fire ignited in her chest as adrenaline spiked again in full force. Charlie was in trouble. Charlie needed her.

She didn't spare Lute another glance as she flew up to the roof, hoping to reach Charlie before it was too late…

Lute scowled as she watched the traitor fly away without a second glance. She didn't even bother to finish the fight? She just ran away like a pussy? What could possibly be more important than her?

Insulting.

She wasn't letting that little bitch get away again. She was going to make sure that she killed her for being the rat that she was.

Hatred burned in her core. She pulled away from the concrete crushing her arm, grimacing as she felt it dislocate. She didn't relent however. She was getting out of this mess, at any cost.

Her tendons ripped apart, and she let out a mighty scream as her crushed appendage was ripped straight from her body, her shoulder spurting with blood. She took off, dead set on killing her adversary.

Vaggie could barely see as she reached the roof of the hotel. Her vision was far too blurred. Her chest heaved with the effort it was taking to stay awake and not let the pain consume her. She fought the spots forming in her vision. She needed to get to Charlie.

Adam had Charlie suspended in the air via a chokehold. Her limbs buzzed with anxiety and dread. She needed to stop him. She needed to save Charlie, before Adam took away the one good thing left in her life.

She only managed a few feet before being brutally tackled out of the sky by a blazing force. They tumbled across the roof. Through the blur and dizziness, she could see Lute, exposed face twisted in fury. She pushed down the subconscious fear in her chest. She needed to get to Charlie.

“CHARLIE!”

A hand clamped down around her throat, which was beginning to feel raw from all the screaming she'd done. She choked, spitting out a bit of blood.

She couldn't kick Lute away no matter how hard she tried. She could barely kick at all. Lute must've been pinning her legs down. Why else couldn't she move them?

Lute loosened her grip, which left Vaggie confused. Why was she stopping? The offending exorcist was looking towards Charlie and Adam, shock written on her pale face. Vaggie followed her glance, her own gaze widening as she saw none other but the king himself.

Lucifer had joined the fight.

The hotel was falling, that much she was sure of.

She felt a certain weightlessness she hadn't experienced in quite some time: Free falling. The feeling of having the wind rushing across her face and in her hair and feathers. It was a wonderful feeling when she was in Heaven. She would swoop down among the clouds, shooting like a missile, before halting her momentum at the last second for a safe landing. It was a fun feeling…

When she wasn't falling to her death.

The ground approached rapidly as she fell among the shattered pieces of the hotel. Lute was somewhere else now, as was Charlie. Hopefully Charlie was okay. Hopefully Lute wasn't hurting her.

...Hopefully the ground was softer than it looked.

…

…oh…

…Oh she was falling, falling.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug,” is what Adam used to say on rough days. Days that were filled with nothing but bruised knuckles and tight muscles. “When it kicks in, you can do fuckin’ anything!”

Adrenaline…

Falling.

Falling fast.

Oh...

Oh, shit.

Her wings spread to their full length, halting her plummet 10 feet above the ground. Her heart thundered in her ears as she caught her breath. That could've been…really bad.

She looked around. The hotel was in shambles, nothing but piles of nearly unrecognizable rubble. The hotel…the home she and Charlie had made for themselves was…gone.

She couldn't see anyone. She heard a commotion a ways away; the battle was still going on. Her hands were empty. She must've lost her spear when she was tussling with Lute.

Lute…

Charlie…

She needed to get to them quickly. She touched down to run, her upper back beginning to majorly ache along with the gaping gash in her lower back. She knew how to fly, but she hadn't done so for this long in years. The scars were beginning to prickle in bursts of sharp, mild pain. Fighting on foot for a bit wouldn't hurt. She folded her wings as she lowered herself.

The second she stood on the ground, the static electric shock returned. It reverberated through her legs, painfully igniting the nerves. It spread from her toes to her lower back, centering where she could feel the large gash.

She fell to the dirty ground yet again, the raging fire in her nerves the most debilitating she ever felt. This was miles worse than her phantom pain. Even on the stormiest of days where she was essentially bedridden from how bad the pain in her back and eye was. This was a thousand times worse than it had ever been.

She managed to flip onto her back, despite her legs feeling rather uncooperative. She was probably slipping into shock from nearly falling to her death. That's probably why her legs felt so numb now that the pain in them had faded. Her back was still on fire, though.

She let herself catch her breath. Given her shaking limbs and stabbing pain in her lower back, she wasn't in the best condition to fight. She'd give herself a few seconds before getting up to rejoin the fray.

She made an attempt to bend her knees, only for her legs to be unresponsive. That was weird. She was a bit more calm, now. The red sky above was no longer blurred like a watercolor painting; she could easily make out Heaven's glow among the deep crimson. Her heart was at a fairly regular pace, and she could breath just fine. She was definitely lucid, not in shock, so why was her lower half entirely numb?

She sat up ever so slightly, grimacing as a spike of sharp pain ran across her spine. She glanced at her motionless legs, willing them to move. Her efforts were met with nothing. That was…really weird. Why couldn't she move them? Sure, she knew from experience that back pain made it difficult to walk, sometimes even move, but never impossible.

Her arms were trembling from the effort. The spots began to return to her vision as she could feel herself losing more and more blood by the minute. It was leaking out of her nose and mouth, as well as the cuts on her cheek. Not to mention the gashes she had sustained on her arms and legs. And of course…her back.

Her arms gave in, making her lay fully on the ground. She tried to curl her limbs, to no avail. Why couldn't she move?

Move, dammit!

Why couldn't she fucking move? What was wrong with her stupid legs? Why couldn't she feel them?

She couldn't feel her legs…

…no…

No it couldn't be…

“No!” She tried to get up, crawling on her arms as her legs lazily dragged behind. Her lower back erupted with every attempt to control them. “No no no no nonononono.”

This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening. This couldn't…

“No…” the tears returned without her consent, beginning to fall and mix with the blood on her cheek. Her breathing became uneven, each breath agitating where her spine had been split.

She couldn't feel her legs…

She heard footsteps approaching. She could barely see through the blur and the spots. The approaching figure began running closer once it had spotted her. Was that Lute? Was she finally coming to kill her?

“Vaggie!” The figure knelt down and put a hand on her face. They had a mane of blond hair, sharp horns protruding from their temples, a tail that was gently resting on her, and rosy red spots on her cheeks. They were sobbing, large eyes bubbling with tears and fangs wringing with high pitched wails. It was…

“Char…” she whimpered. Her body was suspended as Charlie held her in her arms, causing her to grimace. “...it hurts…”

She couldn't feel her legs…

Vaggie sobbed, overwhelmed on all fronts. Charlie sobbed with her as she held her closer, alarmed at how much blood was pooling below them. Vaggie needed serious help.

Vaggie could feel herself fading. She ground her teeth as the adrenaline entirely faded, maximizing the pain tenfold. She felt nauseous and faint, fighting the urge to puke all over Charlie. She whimpered as she gripped Charlie's shirt in a vice grip.

“It's okay…” Charlie promised, mostly to soothe Vaggie, but to soothe herself as well. “You'll be okay…”

The last thing Vaggie felt was a tender kiss to her temple, before finally passing out.

Chapter Text

For a few short moments, all was quiet. All that was heard was a struggling heartbeat buried in the chest of a wounded warrior. A rush of blood, that was the only assurance that the fallen angel was alive and breathing.

Charlie trembled as she held a motionless Vaggie in her arms. Her ear was placed firmly on Vaggie's chest. Each beat of her heart was an electric charge, fueling her, knowing that Vaggie wasn't gone. Vaggie wasn't gone.

She was perfectly fine.

Her hands were sticky with ichor. Her dress was torn in several places. Her hair was dirty and matted, tangled around her horns. Her tail was curled tightly around Vaggie's leg, protective.

“Stay with me…”

“Charlie!”

Lucifer rushed over, eyes wide and frantic at the gruesome sight before him. He placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder, half to console her, and half to get her attention. Panic clenched around his heart as blood continued to pool around Vaggie's crumpled form. He swallowed. “Sweetie…”

“Don't leave me…”

Thick tears continued to cascade in mighty waterfalls, with no sign of stopping. A wet spot was beginning to form on Vaggie's shirt where Charlie's face was buried.

“Charlie.” Lucifer was facing her now, on the opposite side of Vaggie, still resting a hand on her shoulder. “She needs help.”

Charlie finally looked up. Lucifer's demonic qualities had faded. He was staring into Charlie's eyes, identical to his own, in a quiet reassurance, but also in urgency. They couldn't sit here any longer.

“Char!”

Angel and Cherri ran over, Husk and Niffty not far behind. They stopped at the heartbreaking sight. Charlie and Lucifer on either side of Vaggie, who was motionless in a puddle of her own blood. Angel held Cherri’s hand in one, and pushed his bangs up with another. His remaining two were balled up at his sides. Husk took one as he walked closer.

“Is…is she…?”

“She's fine. She…she's just…” Charlie bit her lip to stop it from trembling. She hiccuped, holding Vaggie even closer.

“She needs healing.” Lucifer spoke up. “I…” he swallowed. “I…my scrolls…”

“Where ya scrolls at?” Cherri ushered, motioning for him to speed this along.

Lucifer stood up and swallowed, not taking his eyes off his daughter and her partner. “They're in the mansion. I gotta…”

“Then go get 'em! Hurry!” Angel yelled. Husk squeezed one of his hands. “She's fuckin' dyin’!”

“Yeesh!” Niffty cringed as she tiptoed closer, amazed and almost entranced by the amount of blood. “She's already as good as dead by the looks of it.”

Charlie, upon hearing this, began sobbing again. Everyone leveled glares at Niffty, who just shrugged and gestured to the fallen angel’s crumpled form.

Husk stepped forward, hand to his aching lower back. “We can't stay here. She,” He gestured to Vaggie, “Needs a doctor. And we,” he vaguely addressed the rubble they stood in, “need some damn shelter.”

Lucifer smoothed down his hair. “Okay…” He took a deep breath, failing to quell his shaking hands. “Okay. Alright!” Lucifer stepped back and formed a portal. The inside appeared to be a lobby with a hardwood floor, plush chairs and couches pushed against the ornate walls. He dashed past the battered and bloody group through the glowing ring, before running further to his study to grab his scrolls. The sinners followed into the lobby without hesitation.

Angel stood helpless. Looking one way showed a dying Vaggie, and the other showed her only saving grace running off. “Are we just meant ta do nothin’? How good are them scrolls anyway?”

“It's betta than fuckin' nothin'!” Cherri snapped. “We ain't losin’ another if we can help it.” She tried her best to hide the light tremble in her hands. The airship burning away in a blaze of gold was still fresh in her mind.

Lucifer rushed back, past the group and through the portal, to the wreckage where his daughter still was. Scrolls bounced in his arms and his hat blew off his head with how fast he was moving.

Charlie was yet to move. Her ear was still placed firm on Vaggie's chest, hungering for each heartbeat. The only indication she was still here. It was weakening, fading. It only made her cling tighter. “Please…please stay with me…”

There was so much blood. More than he had ever seen. More than when he fell. He felt frozen. He knew he wasn't capable enough of a healer to fix this, not on his own. The scrolls scratched against each other as he fought a tremble in his arms. He couldn't fix this. He didn't even know where to start. He sighed and quickly made up his mind.

“C'mon, sweetie.” Lucifer ushered as he crouched down, putting a hand on her shoulder once again. Charlie finally looked up, golden eyes glistening with tears. Lucifer smiled despite himself, hoping to inject a little optimism into the dreadful situation. “Let's get her to Belphegor.”

Belphegor sat in her office, sifting through several medical records of a recent accident in the Wrath Ring the night prior. Wrathians were the most common visitors of Bel’s many hospitals, as their nature was in their name. They were the most violent, brash, and injury prone out of the 7 rings, aside from sinners who were unable to travel outside the Pride Ring.

She read up on the incident in question leaving a pair of imp brothers to be incapacitated and in need of special care. A deadly car accident, where both were lucky to survive. One had needed an amputation due to the metal crushing his limb, and the other had needed a lung transplant due to a severe impalement completely rupturing the organ beyond repair, both which Belphegor performed herself.

She sighed in exhaustion and rubbed her temple. At least they were both safe now, and set to recover. Their sister had visited an hour prior, letting her know that the brothers had a safe home to return to and healthily recover in.

Since the night of their surgeries, business had been thankfully slow. It was now early afternoon, and a midmorning nap had been slightly sufficient in replenishing her much desired sleep. Hopefully there wouldn't be any incidents for a while. Surgeries always left her rather exhausted…

…

A golden portal materialized on the other side of her desk.

“BELPHEGOR!”

Bel’s droopy eyes widened immensely as Lucifer himself stepped through, with his daughter not far behind. It was a rather alarming sight, as the King of Hell was carrying enough scrolls to feed a bonfire, and the princess appeared to be carrying what looked to be the corpse of an angel, if the yellow ichor was anything to go by.

“Lucifer…what is the meaning of this?”

Belphegor could never sound angry if she tried, but Charlie could tell she was a little miffed by the sudden intrusion. Her floppy ears pinned back ever so lightly, and the flame above her burned brighter than normal.

“Auntie, we need your help, please.” Charlie stepped forward, holding the angel in her arms as steadily as she could. “M-my girlfriend…she…”

Bel took a better look at the wounded girl. She had what looked to be several lacerations across her limbs, from her face to her legs. What was really alarming, was the area practically soaked with blood, centering around her lower back. There was more than just blood pouring from it, she quickly noted. There seemed to be a clear, colorless liquid leaking out as well, which wasn't a good sign.

Charlie watched with bated breath as Belphegor’s hand began to glow brilliantly with magic. A hot pink aura surrounded the limb, and it slowly encompassed Vaggie's form. “Wh-what are you-?”

“It's alright, dear.” Bel gently interrupted, impressively retaining concentration. “It's a scanning spell. It shows me what exactly is wrong, and how it can be-”

Belphegor suddenly gasped as the aura reached its brightest glow. She put a hand to her mouth, seemingly in shock, which didn't quell either of the Morningstar's worries.

“Bel?” Lucifer prodded. “Bel, what's wrong?”

“Oh, dear…” Belphegor went back to her desk, rummaging through multiple drawers, searching frantically for something. She picked up a plastic container, seemingly meant to hold multiples of little, easy to lose pieces. She picked out a cube of glowing material, shimmering in the low rosy lights. “Lucy, we have no time to waste.”

“Wha…I-” Lucifer couldn't even object as his scrolls were scattered, and Bel took his hand in her own. Their joined hands began to shine with their shared magic. It spread up Lucifer's limbs, trailing all the way up to his head. His eyes widened and he gasped as the magical simmer in his eyes faded.

The knowledge had been transferred. He turned and eyed Vaggie with even deeper concern, if that were even possible. Charlie eyed him helplessly. None of this was easing her nerves. “What? What is it?!”

Belphegor ushered them to follow without another word. Lucifer quickly followed behind. “Charlie, c'mon.”

Charlie followed, increasingly alarmed as the situation became more and more serious. Vaggie's limbs numbly bounced as she and Lucifer practically ran to keep up with Bel’s long stride. The pale pink painted hallways, normally meant to be calming, felt enclosing. The entire hospital felt like a maze with how similar and sterile everything looked. “Dad, what's going on?!”

“She needs surgery, Char.” Was all he could offer as Bel opened the doors to a dimly lit surgical room. Her hand lit with magic, before a transparent pink bell formed and rang itself. He stopped just inside the room, causing Charlie to stop in the doorway.

“Wh-what?! Surgery? What's-”

“I will explain everything afterwards, dear.” Belphegor walked closer and held her arms out in a silent indication. “But as of now, we must make haste for the sake of her health.”

Charlie couldn't give Vaggie away. She couldn't let someone take her. She needed to keep her close and keep her safe. She held her angel closer, refusing to let go.

“Charlie.” Lucifer put a hand on her shoulder. His eyes were crinkled in worry, his jaw stiff. “We can't afford to waste any more time.”

Footsteps approached from behind, and in stepped a variety of Sloth demons, obviously doctors meant to assist. Charlie relented, understanding it wouldn't do any good to deny Vaggie the care she needed. She handed Vaggie over to Bel, who gave a tired, reassuring smile.

Doctors immediately crowded the angel as she was laid on the table. Charlie tried to peek past them so that Vaggie was still in her sights, but to no avail. Lucifer had to forcefully push her out of the room, much to her frustration.

“Dad…!”

Lucifer gave a tired sigh. “Charlie, listen.” Charlie tapped her heel on the tiled floor, limbs buzzing to burst into the room to ensure her partner was safe. “This is probably going to take a long time.” Charlie held a little more still hearing that.

“And?”

“And I know you're worried, hell, I am too, believe me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “My point is, don't fret, okay? Clean yourself up, get something to eat, maybe head back to the manor for a bit. We'll be here when it's all done.”

Charlie could only nod and watch as her father disappeared into the dim surgery room, leaving her alone. A numbness crept across her limbs as her lip trembled and tears began to form once again.

She fell to her knees and quietly sobbed before the large doors.

It was an hour or so before a nurse trekking through the halls stumbled upon the princess in a less than ideal state. Charlie barely had any recollection of being guided to the showers and the checkup that followed after the water reached frigid temperatures.

Her clothes were tattered, ripped, and stained with blood, crimson and gold alike. How much of it was Vaggie's, she didn't want to know. She was given some spare patient clothes in the meantime. A pale blue shirt and comfy black pants.

She washed her hair free of any blood, but that was about it. She hadn't bothered to brush it and put it up again. It fell behind her in a tangled mane. It looked like she had a bed head.

She had a nasty gash on her forehead that had been painting nearly half her face with red. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as it looked, and only required a few stitches. She had other cuts too, but they were much more minor.

Her tail was slightly sprained, which required some wrapping and a warning not to whip it for a few weeks.

Her forearm was still charcoal, and warm to the touch, which she knew would fade in time as long as she iced it for a while. Her hand was cramping ever so slightly, a consequence of being out of practice with unleashing her demonic power. It was fine, though. It gave her something to do other than worry.

And worry, she did.

She had so many questions that couldn't be answered while sitting in a stiff chair in the hospital waiting room.

Why did Vaggie need surgery? Why was it taking so long? What was wrong? Why was Bel so concerned? Why did she need that weird cube? Why couldn't they have explained it to her to start with? Why'd they have to leave her in the dark about what was happening with her girlfriend?

She wrung her hands together. Hours and hours had passed. It was most certainly past sunset. Not even the cheap, albeit well prepared, meals could cease the anxiety gnawing at her gut. If anything, it just made her want to vomit.

She thought about going back to the manor, either by attempting a portal or simply taking the elevator system, but those had their own share of problems. She knew she didn't have the mental or physical energy to form a proper portal right now. And she didn't know if she had it in her to venture out into Sloth, take the elevator system, and have to make her way across Pride to get to the manor. It all seemed so grueling.

So, she stuck with the stuffy waiting room. She'd browsed through every single children's book and magazine offered to guests to keep themselves company multiple times. She didn't even have her phone. It was probably still somewhere in the wreckage of the hotel.

The hotel…

The hotel was destroyed. Her home, her livelihood, her dream, was in literal shambles. It was gone, crumbled to pieces, and that wasn't even all of it.

Pentious was gone. Adam had evaporated him. He was gone. He wasn't coming back. He sacrificed himself, he trusted his life in her hands, and he paid the price for it in the end.

This whole mess could've been stopped if she just tried a little harder. If she had been firmer with Adam the day everything changed. Or if she fought and used every legal loophole she could manage to at least get Heaven to just postpone the extermination. Maybe then, things would've turned out better and she wouldn't have failed. Maybe then, Pentious would've lived. Maybe then, her dream would still be alive and thriving.

Maybe then, Vaggie wouldn't be fighting for her life in surgery.

She looked at the clock for the third time that minute, hoping time would break its own rules and move faster just so she could see Vaggie. It was a little past 10pm. A long time since she first got to the hospital. How long had it been, now? Eight, nine hours? When would it end? The longer it took, the more dread spread throughout her form.

Her limbs uncontrollably vibrated with anxiety and worry. The shock had long faded, and all that was left was unsettled impatient nerves. She was going to lose her mind if she had to wait another hour. She couldn't take not knowing anymore.

She put her face in her hands with a tired groan. She heard footsteps approaching, probably another nurse to ask why she was here. She'd snap at them if they bothered her too long and the cycle would repeat an hour or so later. She felt the figure’s shadow on her, and she looked up, annoyed.

She didn't expect to see Lucifer, looking a bit worse for wear. The bags under his eyes were far more prominent than usual. His hair was messy like hers, and his clothes were extremely wrinkled. “Hey, Duckie.”

“Dad!” Charlie jumped up and hugged him tight, thankful that she'd finally be able to get some news. They rocked in the warm embrace for a few moments, before Charlie pulled back. “How is she? Is she okay? Can I see her? What took so long? What-”

“Charlie…” he let a tired wheeze escape him in an attempt to laugh. “She's fine. She's stable, and she's resting. It was a difficult process that Bel's gonna explain to you later.”

“Okay…okay then.” She took a deep breath. “Can I please see her?”

Lucifer gave a tired smile. “Of course. Room 208. You go ahead without me, I'm gonna head back to the manor and freshen up, maybe take a nap.” A yawn interrupted him. “Bel should be in the room in a little while, okay?”

“Okay…” Charlie itched to run down the halls, to see her angel, but something about having her dad here made her long for his company even longer. She wrapped him in another hug, much to his surprise. “Thank you, Dad.”

Lucifer briefly hesitated before hugging her back, just as tight. “Of course, sweetie.” A few beats of silence, the two royals enjoying the comfort of the other in spite of the stressful circumstances. “Well,” he pulled back. “I won't keep ya any longer.”

Charlie nodded as she finally turned to go see Vaggie. She picked up the pace, almost jogging. Room 208.

Lucifer watched her go with a melancholy grin. He hoped Charlie would take the news well enough. She didn't need any more bad news as it was, what with one of her friends being gone and the hotel in shambles.

He opened a portal with a sigh, stepping into the manor, and a waiting group of sinners.

Charlie hadn't moved in ages. For the good part of an hour, she had sat motionless by Vaggie's bedside, clenching the angel's hand in her own, idly listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor. Each beep was a split second reassurance that Vaggie was still here, still breathing, still fighting. A rogue tear would occasionally fall and hit the bedsheets.

A gentle knock on the door, and in stepped Belphegor herself, looking rather exhausted—well, more exhausted than usual. “Charlie, dear.”

Charlie simply hummed, voice cracking. Bel walked closer, pulling a chair and sitting down on Vaggie's other side so Charlie could see her. The princess in question didn't shift her eyes in the slightest, barely even blinking as she continued to stare at the bedridden angel. Her angel.

“Would you like me to explain now…” Bel began, stifling a yawn. “Or would you prefer to wait? The choice is yours, dear.”

Bel’s voice was soft, calming. It had a wistful tone, like that of a sweet grandmother retelling stories of her youth. Yet it was also tiring, accompanied with a hint of lethargy. It was enough to make anyone sleepy, sometimes make them fall asleep on the spot. It put Charlie at ease ever so slightly.

“Please…” she begged, voice breaking with a single word. She sniffed and hiccuped, using her free hand to try and wipe the tears away. “I need to know…”

Bel sighed, knowing this was going to be difficult. “Very well. Please, do your best to pay attention. There is a lot to cover, and some of it may come as a bit of a shock.” She materialized a clipboard in front of her detailing Vaggie's condition. Charlie finally shifted her gaze, eying the clipboard like it was an unwelcome insect.

“...I'm ready.”

Bel nodded, droopy eyes scanning the paper. “I'll begin with the lesser injuries. Several lacerations on her arms and legs, as well as her cheek. Some may scar, but they will all heal perfectly so long as medicine is regularly applied. And as well, due to her angelic nature, they will heal at double the rate of a regular hellborn.”

Charlie nodded, knowing this already. It was one of the many things she was curious about when Vaggie's true nature was revealed. Can they get hurt? The answer was yes, by other angels, and angelic weapons, but it wasn't a big deal since they healed quickly.

“A broken nose, which will heal within a week's time. Some of her ribs are bruised, and two of them cracked, which will be healed in at most three weeks. It's best to keep her still, even while performing tasks as menial as using the restroom.” Bel explained.

“Okay…” Charlie responded, still weary. The longer Bel continued, the more she worried. Hopefully the cracked ribs was the worst of it, right?

Right?

“And now…” Bel deeply sighed, her floppy ears drooping even lower, somehow. “Her surgery. Charlie…”

Charlie swallowed, mouth suddenly incredibly dry.

“When you brought her here…she was fully paralyzed.”

Charlie's heart skipped a beat, before getting caught in her throat. Paralyzed? Like unable to walk? That kind of paralyzed? Her lips trembled as she squeezed Vaggie's hand even tighter, her tail curling around one of Vaggie's legs.

Legs she couldn't move.

“B-but…but you…you can…” she was choking on her own words. Her tongue felt like lead. “Y-you…you can fix it…right?”

Bel took Charlie's free hand, gently squeezing. “Please understand dear, your father and I did everything we could to repair what we were able to. Despite our efforts, you need to be prepared for the worst.”

The worst?

“What do you mean?”

Bel suppressed a yawn as she materialized two sheets. One was an X-ray scan of what looked to be a spine. Only, this one was…damaged. It was split at the base, the bone entirely separated. The other sheet was an MRI, showing many small lines surrounding the spine. In the same place the bone was broken, the nerves were completely severed and frayed, disconnected.

“These are the scans I performed when she was first brought here. They show her spine,” she gestured to the bones. “And her nerves.” She gestured to the severed lines. Charlie gasped. “We needed to repair both.”

Charlie could only whimper as the true severity of the situation weighed immensely on her. Bel wiped the tears that began to fall without her notice.

“The bone was…for lack of a better term, easier. We used what is called spinal fusion: inserting metal to join and help stabilize and support the broken pieces. Though angelic metal is difficult to come by in lower rings, I always keep some tucked away for safekeeping.”

Charlie merely nodded.

“As for the nerves,” Charlie's hand tightened at the word. “We had to use a nerve graft: taking nerve tissue from a different part of the body and using it to replace the damaged ones.”

“W-wait…” Charlie trembled. “You took her nerves? Where?”

Bel pulled the blanket up to reveal a bandage near Vaggie's left ankle. Charlie raised a brow, never seeing it until now. She didn't recall Vaggie bleeding from that area.

“The sural nerve. A sensory nerve, perfectly healthy.”

“So…so if that's in her back now…what about her leg?”

Bel couldn't help a tired smile. “Her leg will be fine, dear. Removing the nerve will cause numbness in her ankle and foot. A numbness, shall all goes well, will fade with time.”

“Okay…okay! So…everything’s fixed right? When she gets better it'll all be fine, right?”

Bel breathed a hefty sigh. “I'm afraid it isn't quite that simple, dear.”

“What do you mean? That's why you did all this, isn't it? To fix her?” Red was bleeding into her eyes. She could feel her temper slipping with each piece of bad news. “How is there still something wrong?”

“Charlie, dear.” Bel held Charlie's face, tilting her chin up and caressing her cheek, wiping away tears in the process. “Please understand. These types of surgeries are complicated, and take months, if not years, to fully recover from. Nerves regrow incredibly slowly.”

“But they do regrow, right?”

“In due time, yes. However, you must be prepared for the worst, Charlie. There is little chance that Vaggie will ever reach her full capability, let alone walk on her own. There is also a slim chance she may never walk again, period.”

Never walk again.

Charlie heard a ringing in her ears. This couldn't be happening. Vaggie may never walk again? An unpleasant picture came to the front of her mind. Vaggie, forever bound to a wheelchair, unable to use her legs. Forever. It couldn't be…

“However,” the ringing ceased, and Bel smiled once more. “She is strong. I can tell. If all goes well, hopefully in time, she will walk again, but that is up to fate. I've done everything I can.”

Charlie took a deep breath to calm herself. She rubbed her thumb across the back of Vaggie's hand in an attempt to soothe her nerves. Vaggie would be okay. Vaggie had to be okay.

She brushed her angel's bangs aside with her free hand and held her cheek, idly running her thumb over the scar under her empty eye. The beeping of the heart monitor continued to pierce the silence, still ever assuring. Vaggie would be okay.

“Thanks Auntie Bel.” Bel moved from her position to wrap her niece in a hug, her fluff providing a warm and cozy cushion to lean on.

“Of course, dear. Of course. Be sure to sleep well.” She stood up to leave, leaving the clipboard and the scans on a nightstand with a lamp. It was late, nearly midnight. From the battle, to the aftermath, to the excruciating wait during Vaggie's surgery, it had been a long day for Hell's princess. Bel rested a hand on the door handle.

“...Auntie?”

Bel turned back. “Yes, dear?”

Charlie felt like a little girl again. Asking when her boo-boos would go away. Sniveling from a little scrape on her knees. Squirming at yearly check ups, screaming about shots. Lilith always told her to be brave, and as a kid she tried her damnedest.

It was suddenly so much harder, now.

“...Do you know when she'll wake up?”

Bel smiled. It was heartwarming how much Charlie cared for her partner, if a little bittersweet how pressed and worried she was. “Any time tomorrow.” She chuckled as Charlie lit up with hope. “Sleep well, dear.”

She yawned as she exited, leaving Charlie alone.