Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After Alastor made his grand appearance at the Hotel’s rebuilding, there had been a short party thrown in the newly refurbished lobby to celebrate everything they had won and everything they thought had been lost but not really. That meant him apparently, which meant he was a guest of honour of sorts, and everyone wanted to know how he survived and where he went to escape Adam. 

It had been a hard night trying to keep up the mystery of it all and not making his wound worse before he could even attempt to heal it. It was a whirlwind of chaos; sitting down at the bar for a drink only for someone to sit next to him and start pestering him with questions, finding a quiet corner for himself just for Charlie to come over and ask if he was feeling ok and if he needed to take a break, going over to his new armchair by the fireplace and easily summoning a book to send the universal message of “Fuck off, I’m reading!” then hearing a conversation make its way over to him. 

All in all, it had been a night for Alastor. 

He managed to slip into his shadows when no one was watching and make his way over to his new tower to finally settle in for the night. He kept his book with him as he made his way over to his personal fireplace and armchairs, sitting down in one of them after procuring himself a bottle of whiskey and a glass with ice cubes freshly summoned in from the bar downstairs. 

He settled down on the armchair, playing a slow melody from the radio on top of the fireplace to set a nice ambience, set his whiskey on the side table, and got back to reading his book. Less than an hour later he was knocked out cold, with his head thrown back and a book clutched tightly in his hands that lay across his stomach. 

He didn’t stir once during his sleep, and he woke up long after the sun had first shown its face in hell that day and all the residents had already had breakfast. Before he could fully register what was happening, he heard a knock at the door followed by a hesitant voice. “Hey Alastor? It’s Charlie, I don’t know if you heard me earlier, but I came by after breakfast to check in on you since you didn’t come down to eat with us. Which is totally fine if you’d rather have meals by yourself in your room!”

He heard Charlie shuffling her feet a bit as she paused her rambling before starting back up with a nervousness now present in her voice. “I’m just worried because it’s lunch now and you still haven’t come downstairs, and I noticed you left early after the party last night, which is also fine, but I’m still worried about you. I should probably get back downstairs now but please come down soon when you’re ready.” 

Alastor could hear Charlie’s steps moving further away from his door before his ears caught the sound of the elevator opening and closing and then promptly descending until even his sensitive ears could no longer catch the faint mechanical sounds.

Once Alastor is certain Charlie won’t be coming back, he rushes out of his chair and hastily drags his shadow out of the void to demand to know what happened and how he managed to fall asleep when he looks down at his chest confused. He knows he fought Adam just yesterday and nearly died trying to get away. When he was strong enough, he swapped his torn and bloodied suit for a clean and fresh one while also summoning bandages to wrap around the wound until he was able to clean it properly. He was going to do that when he had fully settled down in his new room but clearly that never happened. 

Now, instead of looking down at what should have been a murder scene with the amount of blood he’s sure he should have lost in his sleep he just sees his normal pristine suit, although a bit crumpled from being slept in. After glancing at his shadow to make sure he was definitely seeing what he thought he was, he starts unbuttoning his coat, giving it to his shadow once it's fully off and when he starts on his shirt he does so with shaking hands and lingering dread. Why is he scared of what he might find? If it healed by itself then he would never have to worry about it again! But there is something that feels off about this to Alastor, as if what he finds won’t be what it seems.

Alastor had looked away from his chest after a few buttons, relying on muscle memory to get to the bottom of his shirt. It isn’t long until he reaches the end and he closes his eyes as he hands off his shirt to his shadow. When he opens his eyes again he is looking straight ahead of him where he ends up looking right into Lucifers gaudy apple tower that he built specifically for himself after his daughter had shyly told him that he was welcome to stay at the hotel anytime he wanted. Or at least that’s what Angel Dust had cheerfully told him last night after his fifth drink at the bar when Alastor had swapped out his position to make it seem like he was mingling with everyone. 

Wanting to look away from that monstrosity is enough to make Alastor finally look down at his chest where he expects there to at least be a scar for his efforts. 

But.

There is simply nothing.

Nothing he hadn’t already seen before the battle at least. But that was before the battle. Before his fight with Adam. Where he had a scar cutting across his body from his left shoulder to the right side of his hip, viciously bleeding everywhere. 

Now, there is nothing there. No scar. No raised line or bump. There isn’t even any blood! 

He looks back towards the armchair where he woke up and considers something. As crazy as it sounds, maybe, somehow, the fight was a dream. He knows it isn’t the most sound conclusion but it’s the only one that makes even a lick of sense right now. Maybe once he goes downstairs, he can subtly ask around. If he asks Husker he at least knows for certain that he won’t go off running to tell anyone, not even that spider he’s seemed to get more friendly with of late. 

Alastor growls as he summons his clothes back onto his body, not wanting to appear downstairs later than he apparently already is. He slips into his shadows and within seconds is downstairs in the new lounge that everyone, but him, helped create. He spies Charlie at her whiteboard, preparing another lesson plan for her ridiculous idea of redemption. However, before he can go over and reassure her of his presence, he senses someone stepping in front of him and he can only guess who it is from the ridiculously oversized hat on his head. He’s about to use his cane to tip the hat over to annoy the other man, but thankfully catches himself at the last second and keeps both hands firmly behind his back. For some godforsaken reason, he left his microphone cane upstairs and curses himself internally.

Lucifer starts speaking before he can pick into why he didn’t bring his microphone with him downstairs. “Alright, look here bellhop. I don’t know what your intention is with my daughter, since you’re still here after you should’ve already had plenty of entertainment by now, but if you hurt her in any way I swear to my Father that I will kill you. Time and time again, after you keep regenerating in ways you can’t even think of. Is that clear?” Lucifer had barely tipped his head up enough for Alastor to be able to see beneath the tacky hat but he could see enough. The pure red in his eyes. The horns just beginning to peek out of his skin, pushing the hat up further. The near blinding white of his sharp teeth. It was enough for Alastor to get the picture.

“Oh, I understand perfectly sire! But I also understand that I can barely see you underneath that tacky hat, with you standing so close to me. So, I don’t understand how you expect me to hear anything you say, but! Rest assured, you will never see me harm a single hair on our dear daughter’s head.” Never mind that Alastor never intends to harm Charlie at all, but Lucifer doesn’t need to know that now does he?

Lucifer lets out a sharp breath then takes an exaggerated step back before raising his middle finger to Alastor clearly and walking over to his daughter. Alastor let out a scoff and changed directions to the bar instead. Maybe he could weasel information out of Husker earlier than planned.

He isn’t surprised to see that Husker has already started drinking, even though it is only just past 12 in the afternoon, but Husker certainly seems surprised when he sits at the bar and gestures for a drink. Husk already knows what to give him.  Other than looking mildly surprised he still does what Alastor expects him to do, the leash around his neck a big part of it no doubt. “So... you woke up late today boss.”

“What an astute observation Husker! Can’t a man lie in every now and then?”

“Yeah, but you always wake up to do your broadcast. Unless last night was just too much for you and you needed that alone time.” Even though Husk is speaking slowly and carefully picking out his words he still says too much of what’s on his mind. Maybe Alastor will finally have to start slowly cutting him off from his beloved drinks, not today though, since it got him exactly the information he wanted when he came down here.

“Hm, well maybe I had a bit too much to drink once I retired for the evening. Besides, I’m up and about now. I’m simply having a later start to the day than everyone else.” Alastor then finishes off his drink and sets it back down on the bar top. “Now, I’m afraid I must be off to reassure the princess of my presence again since she seemed quite insistent on my being down here when she came knocking on my door. Ta, Husker, dear!”

Alastor doesn’t spare a glance at him when he spins around on his chair and starts walking towards where he saw Charlie last. She seems to still be working on lesson plans, thankfully with her father nowhere in sight. Off to hide in his tower no doubt, probably falsely assuming that he wouldn’t need to fight Alastor for Charlie’s attention for the rest of the day after seeing him with Husker. Back to the matter at hand, though, Charlie was alone in the parlour with only her lesson plans for company. No angels in sight, including the fallen exorcist, but probably not for long.

Alastor swept into his shadows and appeared beside her, waiting for her to acknowledge him. However, she seemed to be so engrossed with writing her plans and brainstorming ideas that she didn’t even notice him standing right next to her. He could feel his ears start to pin back in annoyance but he managed to straighten them out before anyone would be able to notice, not that there was anyone around to notice. He cleared his throat and started speaking, regardless of if she had noticed him or not. He’d be surprised if she still didn’t know he was there now.

“Well, good morning, my dear! Haha or should I say good afternoon? My, I certainly slept in late today, didn’t I? Well, no matter, I’m here now and at your disposal.”

Once he started speaking, Charlie yelped and jumped slightly. As she turned to face him she attempted to fix him with something that was akin to a glare. Although Charlie doesn’t seem to have the confidence to hold it, as her cheeks puff out. She looked away slightly before looking back at him to speak. “Alastor! What have I told you about sneaking up on people like that! I didn’t even hear you come downstairs, let alone creep up behind me.” 

“The benefits of travelling by shadow my dear! No one will ever know you’re in the room with them before it’s too late!” He grinned at her before going to spin his cane only to realise that he still doesn’t have it with him. So instead, he just puts both of hands behind him to control their movements. “Now, what work is there to be done by yours truly today?” 

Charlie looked like she wanted to say more, but instead put on a smile and started explaining to him what he could do for the rest of the day. He might’ve had even more tasks to complete had he been awake when everyone else was. So, small mercies he supposes. 

For the rest of the day, Alastor goes through the tasks Charlie had given earlier, ticking them off as he went. She had explained to him that now Adam is dead, so Heaven will probably cancel the exterminations forever! And then there will be more sinners at their doorstep, any day now. He didn’t fully understand the logic behind what she was saying, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Because she expected so many new sinners to try their hands at redemption though, it was now his job to make sure all of the rooms were perfectly maintained with not a speck of dust in any of them. There has to be hundreds of rooms in this new hotel so he imagines it will take quite a few days to inspect every single one of them. 

Apart from that, he still had a multitude of other things to get done. Charlie did offer to cut back on them because he was late getting up, and the battle with Adam, but he would never accept pity from anyone. So he will complete all of the tasks she gave him, even if it takes all day. To start, he already knew he would be the one making dinner for everyone, so he just had to estimate when he would be finished with the rest of the tasks and determine how much time that would leave him to make dinner. Not a lot, it would seem, especially considering the room situation. Though he did decide to leave it until last, as it will just be a side task for a few weeks, no doubt. 

He had other menial tasks interspersed throughout his day, but eventually the time came to retire to his room almost regretfully, considering the amount of empty rooms still left to be checked. He would’ve happily spent the rest of the night and the following morning checking the rooms, but something was telling him that he needed to be in his own room tonight on the off chance he falls asleep again, and ends up passed out in a random guest bedroom instead of his own. 

Once his shadow had taken them inside the comfort of his room, he stepped out of it, took off his jacket and placed it neatly over the back of one armchair and then sat in the opposite one. If he was remembering correctly, this part of his evening is almost parallel to last night. Drinking his whiskey, reading a good book and a nice jazz record playing. Only this time, he’ll make sure he won’t fall victim to something as trivial as sleep. 

Remembering how unpleasant it was to wake up with his day clothes on, and knowing he won’t be leaving the privacy of his room anyway, he snaps his fingers to change into some simple pyjamas that he remembered seeing as part of a welcome pack in the rooms he had managed to check on earlier. 

Now that he’s more comfortable, he relaxes back in his chair slightly more and picks up where he left off in his book. Although, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to get more sleep. Maybe he just needs to get more energy from sleeping and then he’ll be good to stay awake for another nine decades or so. 

He barely made it two chapters before his head was turned to the side in a deep sleep.

Alastor woke up to his Maman shaking him. When he opened his eyes she was grinning down at him in a way she only ever did when his father wasn’t home. “Wake up cher, your father has gone for the day so we can do whatever you want until he comes home.” 

At the news that his father wasn't currently home Alastor grinned just as wide as his Maman and jumped out of bed, grabbing her hand as he made his way past her, out of his bedroom and into the living room. 

Once he reached the living room he turned around and gripped her hand with both of his, jumping up and down, “Can we go to the bayou Maman? Please! We haven’t been there in so long, please can we go, Maman?” He looked up at her eagerly, patiently waiting for her to give him an answer. 

She smiled down at him with fondness in her eyes and carefully brushed her fingers through his unruly curls. “Of course we can cher. But first we need to have breakfast so you don’t tire out with all your playing.” She cheerfully booped his nose, making his face scrunch up, and tugged him along to the kitchen humming a song under her breath.

Alastors eyes flew open as he screamed “Maman!”

Chapter Text

Alastor looks around his room wildly after waking up, trying to discern what just happened. He hasn’t had one since he was alive, due to not even sleeping down in Hell, but he thinks he just had a dream. A dream with his mother in. 

He hasn’t seen her since she died about a hundred years ago now. He would never admit it but seeing her again in such vivid detail, as if he was truly living that memory out for the first time, made him realise that he forgot some of her features. The freckles on her face, her vibrant green eyes that she passed down to him, how bouncy her brown curls were. But the one thing he could never forget, and is happy he got to see at least one more time, is her smile. How it could light up a room, how radiant it was. It was beautiful. 

He’s happy he got to see it, even if only for one final time. He wishes that dream could’ve lasted forever, to never wake up from it. 

He rubs his hands over his face, already wishing he could go back to sleep to see his mother again, and looks up at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace to see the time. He hopes he hasn’t slept for as long as the day before. He hasn’t thankfully, and if he’s quick he can probably go downstairs and start breakfast for everyone before people start coming into the kitchen. 

He gets up from the chair he managed to stay on all night, stretching his body to loosen his stiff muscles, and walking over to his closet to change out his clothes for fresher, unwrinkled ones. As he got changed he couldn’t keep the smile off his face, which is a ridiculous thing to say considering he can’t stop smiling because of the stitches holding his smile in place, thinking about his mother. He still can’t believe that he managed to see her again even if it was only in a dream.

By the time Alastor finished making breakfast everyone was downstairs waiting at the table for their food. They weren’t sitting idly though, since he had also started the coffee which everyone helped themselves to. He served everyone their plates and sat next to Charlie, who was at the head of the table, which her father obviously had something to say about. “Hey! What’s the bellhop doing in my seat?” 

Alastor looked up at the sound of his voice to see him standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, like some sort of petulant child. “Well you clearly weren’t showing up so I decided to step in! And besides this is where I would sit, in the previous hotel.” 

“Well it doesn’t matter where you sat before because I’m here now, and don’t act like this is the first day here! We all had breakfast together yesterday and YOU were nowhere to be found! So technically you’re sitting in my seat.” He kept coming closer to where Alastor was sitting until he leaned over the table pointing a finger in his chest. 

Alastor looked down at the finger with light disdain, but with the memory of seeing his mother again just this morning, he can’t summon anything more than that. His mind is too light because of his mother, and he can’t find it within himself to complain. He pinched the finger between two of his own and flung it away from him. “Well, I’m sure there are plenty of other seats you can choose from! Now if you don’t mind I was going to start eating.” 

Lucifer looks like he’s about to start a fight or throw himself across the table at him, but luckily Charlie intervenes before any of the food could go to waste, smashed up on the ground. “Dad, there’s a seat free on the opposite side of the table if you want to sit there instead? That is the seat that Al used to sit at at the old hotel, so he probably doesn’t want to change up his routine. That other seat is still pretty close to me.” 

Willing to do anything to please his daughter, Lucifer obviously chooses to sit on the opposite side of him instead of continuing to fight Alastor for the seat on Charlie’s immediate left. He still looks like he could be willing to fight Alastor again, but for the most part he sits down without much fuss. 

There’s not much talking done at breakfast because of that, only light mumbles spread around the table, and the second Alastor finishes his own plate he stands up, leaves everything he used for Nifty to clean once she’s done, and leaves the kitchen to do his duties around the hotel once again. 

After a post-breakfast broadcast.

Throughout most of the day, Alastor is just doing boring tasks similar to the day before so nothing of note. He does also look through many more of the guest bedrooms, but he knows that could take the better part of at least a few weeks with how many there are. It doesn’t help that he’s only dedicating a few hours per day to it. He won’t go complaining to the princess though, this is his job so he’s going to do it even if it kills him. 

Dramatics aside, his day has been pretty uneventful and it soon comes time for him to start making dinner. Unlike breakfast, which he makes every day, he only has one day a week that he makes dinner for everyone. And that day is today. 

He decides to make his mothers Jambalaya, with a different source for the meat for him, which did mean even less time to sort through the bedrooms, but it will be worth it to have his favourite meal again. 

When he presented the dish to everyone once they were all seated, most of them looked slightly disgusted when they heard about him using ‘special’ meat for the dish, although, once Charlie reminded him that not everyone shared his dietary preferences, he rightly assured them all that he only used that meat in his portion. Interestingly, Lucifer was the only one who wasn’t disgusted at the notion of the potential of ‘special’ meat being in his own dish. 

Hm. He’ll think about that later. 

Actually, who is he kidding, he’s never thinking about Lucifer when the tiny man isn’t in his immediate vicinity. And even then he only thinks about him because when Lucifer Morningstar is in a room, he is going to make sure that you know he’s in that room with you.

Regardless, he’s back in his own room now and he’s actually quite looking forward to going to sleep again. So he can dream about his mother once more and she’s even more fresh in his mind. Unless, of course, last night was just a fluke. A one-time thing. He obviously hopes that isn’t the case, but he has to be careful about getting his hopes too high. 

He’s starting to get into this new nightly routine of his though. Changing into comfier clothes this time, pouring himself a finger of whisky, grabbing a book to read and then sitting in his armchair facing the roaring fire. Now that he knows what’s waiting for him in sleep, he’s less resistant to its call. He’s not actively fighting being drawn under that endless wave. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t take him immediately like it did before. It lets him actually rest before creeping in around his vision and down into dreamland where he will hopefully see his dear mother again. 

Alastor had just put away the dishes from dinner when he heard his mothers voice call out from their living room. 

“Alastor, come on cher, the songs are starting again!”

“Coming Maman!” 

Alastor dried off his hands then made his way to the living room. He got there just as the first notes of an upbeat song started and his Maman grabbed hold of his hands in her impatience. Alastor easily took the lead from her once he was stable, laughing all the while. 

“Maman, you couldn’t have waited five seconds? I was right here you know.” 

“Hush you, if we missed the beginning then it would be harder to find a good rhythm anyway.”

“Of course. How could I forget that.” Alastor looks at her teasingly before saying noncommittally, “Or maybe you were just too impatient to wait those precious few seconds for your son to join you.”  

His mother playfully pinched his cheek before swatting him on the back of his head. “You should watch those manners, boy. I wouldn’t have even a decent dance partner if you lost all of those good manners I taught you.”

Alastor leans down to kiss her on her forehead in apology, even if he knows he could never do anything for her to be truly upset at him.

This time when Alastor wakes he doesn’t scream out for his mother as if he’s lost her all over again. Although it had certainly felt like that when he woke up yesterday, considering he didn’t know whether he would ever see her again. Those worries can mostly be laid to rest now after having another dream with his maman. 

His maman. 

Alastor can hardly believe he’s had two dreams back to back with her in them. Is this what his life here in Hell could have been like if he’d only just slept every night. What would that have been like, he wonders. He’s been here for ninety years already, that would have to be thousands of dreams he’s missed out on. 

Alastor sits up properly in the chair he fell asleep on, gathering his thoughts properly. Sure, he can admit that missing out on thousands of dreams with his mother makes him sad. But he also has an eternity before him, where millions more await him. 

It’s no good getting ahead of himself though, who knows how long this will last? If it will even last at all? No, he won’t go getting his hopes up. He’ll wait a few more days and if he is still getting these dreams, well, then he can think of a future where he gets to see his maman everyday. Even if it is only at night, over a hundred years ago. 

After his brief moment of planning for a future that might not even happen, Alastor finally starts getting ready for the day ahead. It doesn’t take him long and he’s soon back in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone. 

Just like yesterday, he finishes just as everyone is coming in and finding their seat. He sits down next to Charlie, who’s already at the head of the table, in preparation of fending off Lucifer again but it seems that he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore. Once Lucifer enters the kitchen it seems that he’s already resigned himself to sit where he was yesterday instead of using this as another chance to fight Alastor. 

Maybe Lucifer is going to start holding off on fighting Alastor every chance he gets. That would surely be a nice change of pace. 

With no fight breaking out between the two of them, everyone at the table, even him since he had no idea if Lucifer was going to suddenly pounce on him like a Lion with its prey, was slightly on edge for most of breakfast. It was a bit awkward but Alastor has never let that stop him from enjoying a good meal before. And since he made his own meal it’s guaranteed to be the best. 

The next interesting thing happens when Alastor is down in the lobby doing one of his favourite hobbies, harassing Husker. Someone knocks on the door of the entrance to the hotel. 

Alastors ears stand to attention and his back goes straight, like some unknown danger has just entered his territory. He looks back to Husker to make sure he wasn’t hearing things and the cat looked just as shocked as Alastor did so surely that meant he didn’t suddenly imagine that knock. The real saviour to his plight comes in the form of the Princess. She comes bounding down the stairs with her Angelic bodyguard trailing behind her and reminding her not to get her hopes up. 

Alastor doesn’t move from where he’s sat at the bar, trailing one finger around the rim of his glass. He’s content to watch what’s undoubtedly going to be a failure on the sidelines and then swoop in at the last moment to be the hero in Charlies story. 

What happens next isn’t what he, or anyone for that matter, is expecting. He thought it would be an attack. Or something else that’s easy to explain. Instead, when Charlie opens the door, everyone is greeted by a down on their luck sinner seeking redemption. Charlie obviously introduces them to everyone and starts showing them around the ground floor. She promises to give them a proper tour soon but that they should get used to being in a new and unfamiliar place first. 

Despite the sinner seeming quite genuine in their goal of redemption Alastor is, of course, on edge. The last sinner looking for redemption did come here with the intent of spying on them for his enemy. If this sinner came here with the same intentions then Alastor will snuff them out. 

He leaves the parlor through his shadows to get on with the rest of the days tasks, ignoring the bead of sweat that rolls down his neck when he reappears in his studio.

After his mid-day radio broadcast, Alastor went through the motions of yesterday again. Thankfully he only has to make dinner once a week, so he doesn’t have to stop whatever he’s doing to prepare the dinner. He does, however, have to contend with whatever Vaggie has cooked. 

Truthfully, he never cared much for these ‘family dinners’ that dear Charlie called them. Unless he was cooking the dinner, which only happened once a week thanks to Charlies schedule, he prepared his own dinner and brought it straight to his own room. This meant that he’s never actually had what anyone else makes for their assigned day. Well, apart from Angel Dust on Tuesday but he’d be surprised if the man couldn’t cook well considering his ancestry. The only reason he’s started coming to the dinners now is to get on Lucifers nerves. 

However, when the time comes for dinner to be served, it is much like this morning in the sense that Lucifer doesn’t even try and fight him to sit next to his precious daughter. 

Alastor can’t even pretend to be enthused with whatever Vaggie has served them all. Not in the face of Lucifer ignoring him again. 

He spent most of dinner trying to get him to pay attention to him but he couldn’t do much without drawing attention so instead he was left silently seething.

The only saving grace he had was going back to his room with the hopeful promise of more dreams of his mother. 

Reaching his room through his shadow and almost immediately changing into something comfier was practically routine at this point. So was getting his drink and a good book. For a change of pace though he decided to put on one of his records he has stashed away in memory of the dance he now remembers sharing with his mother as clear as if it happened yesterday. 

Once he’s settled into his chair he continues reading the book from where he left off last night. A few hours later his eyes slip closed into the dreamworld once more. 

Alastor was struggling to stay awake after the long day he had, but how could he go to sleep when he got to hear his Mamans voice singing to him? 

She only sings when his father isn’t at home, so it’s a rare thing. 

He wants to enjoy it for as long as he can. 

It doesn’t help that she’s stroking his hair so gently as his head lays on her lap. 

He manages to keep his eyes open for a few more minutes before he finally succumbs to sleep, with his Mamans voice the last thing he hears before he falls under. 

Alastor wakes up with a start, practically giddy. He saw her again. He saw his mother last night. Just like he had the previous two nights. That’s three nights in a row, back to back to back, that he’s seen her. It can’t be fluke after that. 

He can keep her in his dreams. 

She won’t leave him. Not ever again. 

It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders with the realisation that he can live more easily now. Or at least as easily as one can when they’re dead. 

He gets ready with that knowledge in his head and one of the most genuine smiles he’s had in Hell on his face. If he didn’t use his shadows to get downstairs to the kitchen, he’s sure he would practically be skipping his way there. 

When he gets to the kitchen he plays a nice jazz melody on the radio, that’s sat at the counter, humming along as he cooks everything. 

As he’s placing the plates around the table for everyone he hesitates when he reaches his own seat, two plates sat heavily in his hands. He doesn’t know why he’s hesitating to place his own plate where he usually sits, but the memory of yesterday is playing through his mind. When Lucifer had just resigned himself to sitting away from his daughter again. 

Before he can too caught up in his own thoughts, the decision of where to place the remaining two plates is taken away from him, Lucifer going over to what is now probably going to be known as his seat, with the plate meant for him floating out of Alastors hand and into the Kings.

Well.

That certainly settles that, doesn’t it?

Alastors shrugs that off and settles into his own seat, digging into his breakfast. He could probably get used to this new normal; seeing his mother, not having to fight Lucifer for where to sit – except that sounds terribly boring. Him and Lucifer never fighting, never even interacting because how do you interact with someone and have a conversation with them when the only interactions you’ve had together are fights. Both verbal and physical. 

That’s certainly another thing he’ll have to think about, isn’t it? Why does he even care what types of interactions he’ll have with the tiny king? He lived at the hotel for six months before Lucifer decided to live here himself. So why can’t he live like that again? 

A few hours later, Alastor finds himself staring at a scene he should be quite used to in Hell, yet he finds it odd seeing it inside the hotel. 

He was doing something on one of the upper floors when he heard a scream. Naturally, he followed the sound of it and found himself at a balcony looking down on the scene of the crime. 

The sinner who had come to stay for redemption yesterday, was now laying on his back in the lobby with what seems to be quite a lot of bones broken if Alastor had to guess. If he fell, his skull might be cracked as well.

What had Alastor staying in place though, was Lucifer. Lucifer was rushing over, and why he didn’t just think to teleport or create a portal is beyond him, and the second he reached the sinner, his hands were glowing with a golden light. He then proceeded to roll up one of the sleeves of the sinner and touch them with those golden hands.

Alastor couldn’t notice any immediate changes at first, but within the next few minutes he could see that the body wasn’t as hurt any more. Like the body was slowly piecing itself back together with Lucifers help. 

Before he could see what the aftermath of that was, Alastor slipped into his shadows and goes back to where he was interrupted and continues his day as if nothing had happened. 

Nothing else of note happens in his day and he soon finds himself doing what is now becoming known to him as his nightly routine. 

And just like in that routine, he soon finds himself falling asleep on his armchair and having another sweet dream with his mother.

The next day Alastor was already starting to get used to waking up after having a dream with someone he believed he would never see again. He is also getting used to having a different routine in the morning after he does wake up, which he would say ends with making breakfast for the hotel. 

One part of his week that he is glad hasn’t changed though, is his visit to Rosie in Cannibal Town every Saturday. He didn’t feel like dealing with having Voxs drones following him there today so he opted for his shadows instead and when he slips out of them inside Rosies territory he feels a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his breathing was slightly ragged. He couldn’t focus on why that was right now, not when he knew Rosie was likely closing her shop for a few hours at this very moment and preparing some light finger food to snack on. 

He made his way towards her emporium and knocked on the door. Just because she was expecting him at this time doesn’t mean he can just barge in. His mother raised a gentleman so a gentleman he shall be even if it is in Hell, which is definitely the last place she would have ever expected him to end up. Although, she did watch him murder his father when he was younger so it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise considering that. 

Rosie opened the door and gestured him in, which in turn closed the door of his thoughts for the day. “Come on in Alastor! I’ve got everything ready.” 

“Lovely!” Alastor followed Rosie to the back of her shop where a table was set with some snacks and tea. Alastor smiled wider when he noticed that she had prepared his usual coffee for him instead of the tea that she preferred, even though he knows that Rosie would rather kill herself and keep all the meat to herself than serve the wrong thing for one of her guests. 

They both got settled into their usual seats opposite each other pretty quickly and started catching up on what had happened since the extermination. 

Rosie had lost some cannibals during the fight unfortunately so Alastor consoled her on that; she got attached to her cannibals far too quickly in Alastors opinion but he’d never tell her that. 

Alastor told her about the new sinner that had checked in two days ago. Rosie asked how the Princess was doing after the extermination and how The King was settling into the hotel. He assured her that Charlie was doing splendidly running the new hotel and the new guest is keeping her spirits up so far. His smile threatened to turn into a scowl at the mention of Lucifer though. He told her how odd the King was behaving and how he hasn’t started any fights with Alastor even when the set up for one was right there.

It seemed like Rosie started contemplating that fact before she just looked at him and told him how the King is probably just adjusting to living in a new space. Especially after living alone in a massive palace for as long as he supposedly was. Alastor supposes there is merit to what Rosie said but something doesn’t feel right about it. Well, if it’s important then he’s sure he’ll find out soon; he doesn’t have to direct all of his focus on it. 

Alastor and Rosie keep talking about their week and even about the overlord meeting tomorrow, since it will be the first one since the failed extermination. One thing that Alastor doesn’t bring up however is his dreams with his mother, those are forever his to keep to himself. He also doesn’t tell her how he woke up after the extermination to find the wound from Adam gone. He swore that he had fought the first man to near death and gained a new scar to prove it, but as he saw when he woke up the following day, nothing was there. Maybe he’s worried that Rosie will think him crazy for imagining the fight going so south. 

Regardless of his reason, he doesn’t tell her about either of those. He doesn’t think he’ll regret not telling her, he’s only ever regretted one thing and that was up above, but apart from being able to see his mother again there’s really not much to be said about the topics.

Alastor gets back to the hotel a few hours later after picking up some venison from his favourite butcher shop. He feels slightly tired but he chalks that up to a result of all of the missing sleep from the past ninety years catching up to him. He’s sure after a few more nights of sleep he’ll be less tired during the day. 

The next day was the first Sunday of the month, which meant it was an overlord meeting. It also just happened to be the first overlord meeting after the most recent extermination, which usually meant a large number of souls dead and new territory to fight over. 

He suspected that this meeting would be quite different than those in the past though. 

When he walked into the meeting room his eyes were immediately drawn to someone he’d rather never see again. 

Vox 

Vox was never in these meetings. Well, never was a little harsh on the man, he supposed. He only showed up when it was something that interested him, and that was never after an extermination. Velvette was the one who came to most of these meetings and on a rare occasion Valentino would show up. But he couldn’t even remember the last time he saw Vox here. 

Alastor wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had paused for even the briefest second at seeing him here again. Instead, he walked calmly over to where he usually sits between Rosie and Zestial and didn’t even acknowledge that Vox was in the same room as him. 

Using his shadows to get over here had taken slightly more time than he anticipated so there wasn’t long left until the meeting started, which seemed a great excuse to not look in Voxs general direction. 

Rosie nudged him under the table and leaned towards him slightly. He sighed internally at the lecture he was no doubt going to receive at ignoring everyone. He lowered one of his ears slightly so she knew that he was listening. “Al! Didn’t you see who’s decided to sit at the table again?! What are you sitting over here for like nothing’s happened? By this point a fight would’ve broken out between the two of ya if you were anywhere else.” 

“Yes, well the meeting’s about to start and besides, you know how Carmilla gets when fights break out during the meeting. She’d just tell us to take it outside and I have no intention of fighting him either way.” Alastor didn’t mention the fact that one of the many reasons he didn’t want to fight Vox at this particular moment was because he still felt rather tired from all the sleep he was catching up on.

Before Rosie could question him further, Carmilla and her daughters walked in and the meeting began. 

For the most part everyone stayed silent during the meeting unless they were called on, which Alastor liked because that meant it would already be significantly shorter than any of the other meetings they’ve had. Of course, that meant someone had to ruin the peace. And that someone was Vox, because he obviously had a reason for coming here other than sitting still and doing nothing. He does that enough in his tower, Alastor’s sure of that. 

When the meeting was coming to a close and Carmilla looked like she was about to call it to an end, Vox stood up and cleared his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. No matter that he already had it by being in the meeting room, which, again, he hasn’t been seen in in decades. 

Alastor kept his eyes firmly placed in front of him, his smile rigid in its place. 

Carmilla sighed but let him speak for the final point of the meeting. Great, all he had to do was sit here until Vox had finished promoting a new item or mindless picture show and then he’d be free to leave. 

Alastor was happy to let that be it and wait very patiently for Vox to finish so he could finally leave, even if he wasn’t in that much of a hurry to return to the hotel. If he was honest with himself right now, he would take Lucifers presence over Voxs any day even if he was confused about why he would like Lucifers company at all. 

His musings about that were cut short when Vox mentioned his name and somehow projected him. Well, a past version of him at least. It was him after Adam had managed to knock him down, with his cane split in half and clutched in one hand. If only he was skilled enough to somehow put it back together. What caught his attention next, and most likely every other overlord in the room, was the wound he very clearly had. With blood pouring all over the ground from it. 

Alastors hand started to reach up to touch where that wound would be on his own body but he pulled it back down at the last second, careful to not catch any wandering attention. How could it be that he remembered that scene exactly as it happened on the screen Vox is showcasing it from, yet when he woke up the next day there was nothing.

No blood. No wound. Nothing to show for what everyone else is now seeing as clear as day. 

He risked a glance at Vox who was grinning maniacally back at him. What was that man plotting? “Well? What are you waiting for, old pal? For me to collapse to the floor from blood loss? Because if you are, I'm afraid you’ll be waiting a long time.” 

He didn’t know if the video was faked or not but he’s not going to take off his shirt to prove that he’s as fit as a fiddle. He slowly rose from his chair and made his way towards the exit, not caring if him leaving was going to be seen as improper. “Goodbye fellow overlords, don’t fawn over me for too long.” He laughed out loud at his own joke as the doors closed behind him and he bathed himself in shadows to go back to the hotel. 

He’s a bit more tired when he returns to the hotel and he feels more sweat pool at the back of his neck but he shrugs them both off. Maybe he should try and have a small nap before dinner? It would hopefully replenish some of his energy, energy that he’d undoubtedly need to face Lucifers cooking. He saw his name at the end of the week and has been dreading it ever since. 

He should do more of his duties around the hotel though, and he still needs to get through those guest bedrooms for Charlie. That should keep him busy for the next few hours before dinner. 

Over the next few days his mothers smile is one of the only things fueling his energy, as it seems to deplete even more every day. He can’t even fathom why. He’s sleeping every day so he should be getting more energy, theoretically, but his energy just seems to falter. He’s getting tired earlier in the day but he can’t even have an afternoon nap to see if that would help since his tasks keep him busy all day. 

He still woke up at the same time every day, so he still made breakfast at the same time every day. He never had to speak to anyone after that, so he could do the rest of his tasks in relative peace. He still had dinner with everyone, even when their cooking wasn’t the best. 

His days were turning out to be pretty monotonous it seemed. 

At least until his most recent dream on Wednesday night. 

Alastor still wasn’t feeling well. 

When he woke up that morning he didn’t think anything was wrong, but then after he came home from school his Maman was shocked at how hot his forehead was. She said he just had a fever and it would pass after a few days but as he laid in his bed he was starting to doubt that. And he never doubts his Maman! 

“There there, my sweet boy. You’ll be better soon, I promise.” 

Alastor blearily opened one of his eyes to see her looking down at him, smiling sweetly. “I don’t feel better yet Maman.” 

She just shushed him and changed the rag on his head to a fresh one, with colder water. “Save your voice Alastor, you’ll wear yourself out. And besides I’ve never broken a promise to you have I?” 

Alastor went to open his mouth but at the look from his Maman he just shook his head instead. 

“Good. And remember my boy, when you’re older and you’re in pain and I’m not there to look after you, turn to those closest to you. To your friends. They will help you, I promise.”

Chapter Text

Alastor was pacing his room now. Walking back and forth in the large space in his room. Walking in circles. 

He doesn’t understand what just happened. He remembers that moment from his dream fairly well considering his age at the time being around seven years old. He remembers all the good moments he had with his mother, they were very rare when he was young. But he knows for a fact that she never said that to him. What reason would she have to anyway? He was perfectly well then and he’s perfectly well now. 

So why would his mind trick him into thinking she said that? 

Maybe that’s all this is. A trick his brain is conjuring up. He’d remember if she said something that serious right? But maybe she said it while he was falling asleep and his brain has just managed to hang onto it all this time. Yes, that would make sense. 

If it did make sense for her to even say any of that! Why would she be telling him when he hadn’t even hit puberty yet that she wouldn’t be there to look after him one day?! His mother would never say something like that. He knows it.

He can’t be dealing with any of this right now. He’s already spent too much time awake up here in his room and not downstairs making breakfast. He should be doing that instead. Hopefully that was just a fluke and tonight his dreams will just go back to normal. 

His dreams didn’t go back to normal last night. But more surprising than what did happen last night was what, or rather who, wasn’t in the weird dream. His mother. He didn’t catch even a glimpse of her, which was slightly concerning for him but then also very relieving considering what happened. 

He had just finished a kill from when he was human. He was in his bayou, naturally, and was about to feed part of the pig to the alligators lazing around. It all felt so sudden when he heard the police siren and then the officers shouts. He was still high on adrenaline after his kill and he just started running. He didn’t stop. He knew he was fast and could easily outrun any of the officers, not to mention the bayou being incredibly difficult to traverse if you haven’t spent a considerable amount of time in there. 

And yet. They kept coming closer. He remembers how fast his heart was beating as they neared him. How confused he was since he’s always been so careful. How scared he was that that would be the end of everything. 

He woke up eventually, just as he turned his head and caught a glimpse of how close the officers were to him. So close they easily could have grabbed his arm at that very moment. 

What does this mean? He’s now had two “dreams” back to back where something different happened from his mortal life. First his mother said something very strange to him, not only because she’s never said those words to him. Then last night he finished a kill only to have some police officers chase him through his own territory. 

He will never admit what that made him feel like. He’s more likely to admit to having these weird dreams happening to him, and if he follows the same logic as before then it’s more likely to be his new reality than he’d like to admit, than ever admitting that last nights ‘dream’ made him feel like how he made his own victims feel.

Prey. 

He hated the feeling more than anything, and it felt like a mockery of what Hell had turned him into when he arrived. 

Alastors eyes catch on the clock as he turned around in his pacing once again and he realised with a start that he is even later than he was yesterday. He growls low in his throat, angry at himself for letting his mind get so worked up about these dreams. People probably have them everyday and dream about things that have never happened, what is wrong with him? He can handle a few measly dreams if it means he can see his mother again. Can’t he? 

Well, as long as he doesn’t get this worked up every morning it will be. He just needs to see her again. It’s the only place he’ll ever be able to. After all, it’s not like Charlie’s redemption exercises will ever work. No sinner will ever be allowed past the pearly gates. And even if he were he knows she wouldn’t want to see him like this, condemned to the depths of Hell for the crimes he committed on Earth. The first of which was killing his father and although his dear mother watched him he doesn’t think she’d appreciate how far into depravity he fell after he watched her die. Committing endless amounts of sin on men who deserved it. 

Regardless, he would never see her in the present so the past was all he had of her and he couldn’t afford to lose that. 

When Alastor made breakfast in the old hotel, and when his dreams were normal, he made a point to start early. That way the food was all ready and served by the time each resident had made it downstairs. Although, that really only applied to six out of the seven of them since you couldn’t rely on Angel being up at a reasonable time considering his circumstances. 

All of that to say, everyone was already waiting for breakfast to be done before he was even halfway through making it. It certainly wasn’t this bad yesterday. No one seemed to mind too much that they had to wait for their food to start the day, but he could still feel eyes looking at him. He can’t tell who’s looking, and using his shadow could gain attention that he certainly doesn’t want or need, so he’ll just have to settle for not knowing for now. 

He suspected it was Charlie or even Vaggie on her girlfriends behalf, but when he turned around to start setting the plates down, not only does he see Charlies worried gaze blatantly looking at him, he sees her father glancing away as if he’s been caught. As if he was looking at Alastor in concern. No, that couldn’t be right. Why would Lucifer of all people look at Alastor like he’s worried about him? No one else seemed to have noticed Lucifer so blatantly looking at him, did he imagine it? Like he seems to be imagining things in his dreams lately? It’s the only possibility he has so he’ll have to go with it.

Despite the late start to breakfast everything still goes smoothly. No fights happen, it’s pretty calm. 

The rest of the day is calm too. He did a few more floors of checking out rooms, why did they have to make the hotel so tall? Alastor definitely would have protested against that  if he knew this is what he would be doing and if he was even there when they rebuilt the hotel, and he thinks that maybe he should invest in a bed of his own. His back has been pretty sore lately. He would ask Rosie when he visits tomorrow but then she would ask questions about his sudden need for a bed and he doesn’t exactly want to get into all of that. 

Alastor doesn’t even bother standing up when he wakes up, he just drags his hands down his face and groans. Great. His life has now come to dreaming about running away from the police when he was still human. And if that did ever happen when he was alive they’d be rotting away in the bayou, never to be seen by anyone again. Well, anyone alive at least. He’s unsure whether they would have gone to Heaven or Hell but considering all the bribes they took back then he wouldn’t be surprised if they’re down here with him. 

He gets up to check the time, and seeing that it’s when he would usually start breakfast he changes his clothes and does just that. 

When he went to travel through his shadows to Rosies later that day he was confused as to why he was only able to travel about halfway there. He’s usually able to travel any distance he wants, he’s never been limited in his powers before. Why couldn’t he go farther than this. He decides to try and use his shadows again, quickly so no one spots him failing at using his powers, and is able to reach the border or her town but not any further. It will have to do for now, but he’ll look into it when he gets back to his room at the hotel. 

His tea time with Rosie is pleasant as always but seeing as this is the second week in a row where he has hid something from her, he feels slightly bad. He’s certainly not going to tell her anything, all it would do is make her worried for him when there’s nothing either of them can do about it. 

There isn’t an overlord meeting tomorrow, so they don’t have to theorise on how badly it will go down. They can talk about whatever they want, which they always do. They can catch up on everything they’ve both done over the past week, which they always do. Except for the past two weeks where Alastor hasn’t told her everything. No matter how badly the guilt will no doubt wear him down for the rest of eternity at these weekly tea dates he won’t tell her. He can’t tell her. Like he said before, he refuses to make his dear friend worry for something out of both of their control. 

Getting back to the hotel was a challenge. Somehow the distance his shadows took him were shorter than that morning, which was very worrying. He didn’t let the clear frustration and exhaustion show on his face when he entered, and thankfully there was no one who could see him return. He risked using his shadows to get to his room, which used to be so easy, and only manages to get halfway up the building. He slips out of the shadows near the elevator and Alastor is suddenly faced with a decision that could shape the rest of his afterlife. 

To take the elevator or not to take the elevator? That is the question. He could leave it, but at the rate his powers seem to be mysteriously disappearing he might be crawling back by the end of the week. Or maybe a few more days considering tomorrow is the last day of the week. If he does take the elevator he knows there will be no going back. Everyone in the hotel will soon find out that Alastor, the Great Radio Demon, needs to use the elevator. Something no demon with his powerset would even dare entertain using. 

He glances at the floor number, 25, and sighs internally. His floor is 50 and he’d rather not waste any more of his powers than necessary to get there. He hopes no one else is planning to use the elevator as that would surely be a shock for all involved. 

Alastor has never had a need to use the elevators before, since he used to be able to just slip into his shadows whenever he needed to traverse the hotel, so he’s surprised by how fast and efficient it is. It’s not as fast as his shadows but within minutes he’s already in his room and walking to his bayou.

He needs to know what’s happening with his powers and his bayou is the perfect place to test his limitations. 

He removes his coat and folds it over the top of his chair as he passes by, not stopping his brisk walk until he’s standing so far in his bayou he can barely see his actual hotel room. He’s in a slight clearing so that he has space but does he even know what he is going to do? 

No, he doesn’t. He knows that he couldn’t use his shadows properly but what does he do when he just keeps getting worse results? He would suggest to himself to get more sleep, if exhaustion was the issue, but he doesn’t even have the comfort of his mothers smile or her laugh or her arms or anything about her anymore! 

No. He can’t think like that. There’s still one more sleep before that can be a certainty. After that… Well he can think about the after if he ever gets there. Right now he needs to test how far his limits go.

He lets his shadow grow out from under him and as it keeps on growing, spreading darkness over every single inch of this sacred place, it doesn’t ever show any signs of stopping. Curious. He commands it to come back to him in a single second and he still feels perfectly fine. Why did it only happen when he went into his shadows? He lets himself be consumed by them once again and reappears a few trees over panting and gasping for breath. 

He sits down so he can lean back against the tree. Why did that just happen? It can’t be because he’s exhausted, he’s sleeping every day now so theoretically he should be feeling like he has more energy every day and yet this has happened. Has he been using his shadows to travel to places more frequently than usual? Maybe that’s why. 

He summons his tentacles from his back to see if this strange phenomenon has spread to other parts of his powers. He hasn’t had a need to use these much in the weeks following the last extermination, so surely he still has free reign with them. 

He manages to get quite far with them and make them bigger, but they don’t reach as far as he remembers. It’s certainly not as bad as when he tried travelling within his shadows. Hopefully a good sleep will fix whatever is going on.

He didn’t realise how long he took testing his new limits so he ended up being slightly late for Niftys day of cooking dinner for everyone. He’s given her some cooking lessons over the years so by now she is a decent cook. She still has areas to improve upon, and he told her as such so that she can learn how to get better, but she is far better than some of the other residents taking a turn at cooking. 

He’s back in his room now, changed into different clothes, and staring into his fireplace. Part of him really doesn’t want to sleep, even though he knows that he’ll just get dragged into one anyway, because he doesn’t want to face another one of these dreams without his mother in them. But another part of him wants to just get it over with so he can be back in Hell quicker and forget whatever stupid dream he has to live through. It will be his only time living through them and he’d rather forget they ever existed in the first place. 

He sighs and reaches for his whiskey. It’s going to be a long night no matter what option he chooses. 

He wishes he could just have the peaceful dreams of last week again. 

Alastor was sitting at his mothers bedside in what could possibly be her deathbed. God, he doesn’t want to think like that. But it’s true isn’t it? She’s been getting weaker every day and he even paid a small fee for a doctor to have an assessment of her to see if they knew what was wrong. 

He didn’t know. The doctor that he paid a full months wages for, didn’t even know what was wrong with her. How much longer she could have to live, if anyone could even call what she was doing now living. How much longer he had with her, the only person he’s loved his entire life. He knows he’ll never love another after this. It’s too painful watching them lose everything they are before they’re even gone. 

Alastor clutches one of his mothers hands tighter in his as he feels a single tear slip out of his eye and land on her bed. He can’t do this. He can’t watch her die, it will kill him just as much. The only reason he’s even entertaining these thoughts is because his mother is asleep. He can let his mask fall just a bit. Once she wakes up he’ll have to put it back up though, he has to be strong for her. It’s a selfish thought but he doesn’t want her to see him like this. Especially if it’s going to be her last memories of him. He looks outside quickly, only allowing his gaze to wander long enough to find out the time, and sees the sun has long set. 

Maybe he should get some sleep himself. He’ll just rest his eyes. For a few minutes. Then he can keep watch over his mother in case there’s any changes. 

Alastor opens his eyes to sunlight. Bright. He hears birds chirping in the distance. He feels his mothers hand in his and he squeezes it just for the comfort of knowing she’s still here with him. He feels a squeeze back and looks up through bleary eyes at his mothers radiant smile looking back at him. He smiles at her and then sits up. 

“How are you feeling Mama? You look a bit better.” 

She laughs then, and he’s glad to hear it another time. “A bit?! I’m so much more than a bit better, my sweet! I feel more alive than I have in years! Even before that weird illness overtook me I never felt this good.” 

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He kisses the back of his mothers hand and then looks up at her with slight concern. “I’m going to call the doctor and let him know how you’re feeling, ok Mama? I’ll feel better myself once I know you’re definitely cured of whatever illness that was.”

“Of course. Go and call the doctor.” 

Once Alastor called the doctor he was quick to say that he’d be over soon to see for himself. And once he was here and checked his mother for anything that might still be wrong, he reassured both Alastor and his mother that whatever was taking over her body before has gone. Just like that. He was stunned but he showed the doctor out and returned to his mother. She was ok. And according to the doctor she could live a long and healthy life. 

Alastor goes back to his mother and hugs her tight. He doesn’t want to ever let go but he’s comforted by the fact that she won’t have to leave him for quite a while. 

“I love you mama. So much.”

As soon as Alastor woke up he knew he was crying. He felt the hot, salty tears rolling down his cheeks but he didn’t do anything to get rid of them. He felt a warmth around his middle and saw his shadow wrapped around him. Had his shadow experienced the same thing he just did? Did his shadow have dreams? He knows that he and his shadow are connected somehow but does it extend further than he thought?

He’ll ask it soon. Right now he just wants to lie with an old wound reopened. 

He should’ve known that he wouldn’t have a normal dream again. Not after what they’ve been like the past two nights. But to turn one of his worst days into someone else's best day. To see it through their eyes. He wants to scream but he holds himself back. Barely. He could almost call it a nightmare but it didn’t end how nightmares usually end. If he was just shown how it actually happened then Alastor definitely would’ve called it a nightmare. But instead of waking up to a cold hand pressed against his own, a face that would never smile again, a house that would never hear the sweetest laughter, he woke up to the opposite. 

He hated that day and he still does. But he hates this dream even more, where he lives through the tease of another life that could have been his in another life only to wake up and remind himself that he never had that. The illness killed her before he even woke up. 

He looks down at his shadow again. “Did you see all of that? In the dream.” The shadow looks up at him sadly before shaking its head and rubbing its face over Alastors chest like an over affectionate cat. So his shadow can’t see any of the dreams he’s had. Great. 

He looks up at the clock and he doesn’t seem to be too late starting his day today so he begins on that, having to pull his shadow away by force since it refused to let go. 

Breakfast seemed more lively once everyone started coming in, everyone was a few minutes late and he won’t pretend to have no idea why, probably in part due to him finishing breakfast before anyone sat down. He didn’t stay for long as he has a very busy day ahead of him. He’s finally going to obtain a bed for himself. His back felt terrible when he stood up and he knows a good mattress will help with it, and what better mattress to have than from the hotel itself! 

Alastor didn’t have many floors left to check so it wasn’t that much longer that he found himself on the floor directly below his own. It would be so easy to just take one now that he is so close to his goal, but he holds himself back. He checks each room, making sure everything is in place. Then he finally reaches it. The end of something he never thought he’d finish when Charlie had asked him to do this all those weeks ago now. But he’s standing outside the final room and he realises he doesn’t need to check anything in it if he’s just going to steal the most crucial part of the room. Well, he’d be shocked if they ever had enough guests that they would need to resort to using these top floors. Alastor shrugs his shoulders to himself and hums a jaunty tune as he walks into the room. 

Alastor stands at the foot of the bed, prepared to snap his fingers and have the entire bed be transported into his bayou, but he pauses. His powers are a bit unpredictable right now. Does he have to do this manually? Ugh, that will take forever. He definitely won’t be able to have the bedframe if that’s the case. 

Alastor soon finds himself in another precarious situation involving the elevator, and he’d much rather have been caught any of the other times he’s had to take the elevator than this time. He somehow managed to drag the mattress all the way to the elevator with some pillows and the duvet still on top, and now he’s stuffed all of that and himself inside the elevator. Just to go one story up that somehow feels like an eternity to get there. 

Thankfully no one sees him and he’s quick to drag everything back out and towards his room. He looks straight ahead at Lucifers door just to make sure he wasn’t being watched and after seeing no one around he closes his own door. 

He doesn’t feel like dragging the mattress too much further so he just drags it to a corner in his main room and leaves it like that. 

He still has plenty of time left in the day so he decides to put on a radio show. With his powers becoming more unpredictable and less reliable he needs to make sure that everyone remembers his rightful place in the food chain. Right at the top, and he won’t let anything change that. 

He wanted to instill more fear in everyone so he started to do what he always does; make his antlers bigger, grow slightly bigger himself and increase the radio feedback on his voice. Only of those fully worked however, he didn’t address the failure on his part, he just kept doing the radio show until he was finished. 

Once he was finished he stormed out of his radio tower, his shadow hot on his heels, and marched straight into the bayou. He wanted to let out his frustrations the only way he knew how but considering what just happened he knew that would only make even angrier. 

He was able to fully control the static surrounding his voice but he couldn’t grow his antlers much bigger than five or six extra tines. And he couldn’t get much bigger himself. 

He let out a scream as he summoned his tentacles and thrashed them about, letting them break whatever he wanted. He’s always been able to repair the damages. Why can’t he just figure out why this is happening to him?! 

He suddenly drops to knees, unable to keep up the tentacles around him and having to pull them back into himself. He slams one of his fists into the ground before he leans back. He wishes there was an easy solution to this. That he could just ask someone and have all the answers he wants, but he knows that even if it were possible his ego and pride would never allow him to let anyone know that he was ever damaged in any capacity. That the great Radio Demon could be brought to his knees while having his powers stripped from him. 

No. No one will know about this. He will make sure that not a single soul in all of Hell ever finds out about this.

The next four days passed relatively quickly, even if he was by himself for most of the days on the off chance that someone wanted him to use his powers for something, and the only thing that Alastor really managed to use to separate the days were the dreams that kept getting increasingly weird. He didn’t really want to relive any of them, not because he was particularly scared in them but because they were near replicas of scenarios that happened to him while alive except there was always something different in them. Whether it was being chased by cops, seeing his mother practically rise from the dead or even as mundane as seeing his father at home at a time he never was. 

As soon as the dreams were over he shut them out of his memory. He feels weird thinking about them when they never even happened to him in the first place. 

Today is the fifth day since he technically stole a bed that’s been surprisingly comfortable for him to sleep on. Charlie seemed to find out almost immediately after it happened, as the next time he saw her she was asking him if he knew what happened to the bed. He played on not knowing anything about it, suggesting that maybe it happened when he hosted his radio broadcast. He also promised her that he would find out what had happened to it. He won’t tell her anything, obviously, since he’s the one who stole it. Maybe she’ll forget after a bit of no luck.

The fact that it’s been five days since then also means it’s Friday today and somehow Charlie has managed to convince him to join whatever silly little redemption exercise she’s hosting right now. He wasn’t really listening when she explained it to him if he was being honest, and now he feels himself regretting that decision a lot.

They were doing a paired exercise today and Charlie had supposedly chosen people at random, yet he found himself at the back of the room sitting next to her father of all people. 

He’s leaning back in his chair with his arms across his chest. He looked at the clock on the back wall for the fifth time in as many minutes, noting that it’s been five minutes since Charlie had given them their instructions for the exercise. It was going by awfully slowly. 

“You know if you actually told me something you liked, this would go by a whole lot faster.” 

His ears wanted to pin back at being found out but he held them in place, barely. “Well why don’t you tell me something that you like? This has to work both ways you know.” He didn’t want Lucifer to tell him anything about himself, he didn’t even really want to talk to him at all! But he was tricked into doing something that’s forcing them to work together so he’ll listen for the information he needs and then he’s sure he can just block Lucifer out entirely. 

“Come on! This isn’t an eye for an eye type of deal, you just have to tell me one thing that you like! It could be anything; a colour, an animal, even a person.” 

“Well you withholding what you like from me is rather contrary to denying that fact isn’t it?” 

“Fine! I’ll tell you what my favourite animal is and you can do something with that, and I’ll just work on something for you with the zero information you’ve given me. Sound fair?” 

“Very!” Alastor looked at Lucifer properly then as he slowly put everything he needed in front of him on their shared desk. Charlie had left quite a few options of material available for the sinners to choose from. Alastor had taken one of everything. He’s decided on using the clay, despite how messy it’s bound to be, so he leaves that in front of him. “So! Tell me sire, what is the King of Hells favourite animal?”

“Ducks. They’re my favourite.” Lucifer turned to look at him in turn and Alastor is struck by the sincerity in his eyes. He’s telling the truth. He would’ve guessed that he would say something ferocious or savage. Not one of the most peaceful and least dangerous animals out there. Even ducks born down here in Hell are just mildly annoying at best. 

“Ducks. I suppose I can work with that.” He eyes Lucifer out of the corner of his eyes as he tries to recall what they look like on Earth. He gets the tools he needs and puts them in a separate area. Lucifer doesn’t seem to be doing anything though, just looking at him curiously as if he can guess anything about him by just staring. 

Hopefully he gets bored soon and stops looking at him. It’s distracting. 

Lucifer does eventually look away from him and starts fiddling with whatever’s on his side of the desk. Only a few minutes later however, Lucifer turns back to him and starts talking again. “If you won’t tell me a favourite thing of yours then why not tell me something you enjoyed when you were alive?” 

Alastor looks back to him and grins wide, showing off all his teeth. “You do know how I ended up down here don’t you? I was a serial killer when I was alive, and technically still am, what do you think I enjoyed when I was alive?” 

Lucifer looks slightly sheepish but not put off like people usually are. “Yeah, you got me there. But you’ve got to give me something for this.” 

Alastor sighs before getting back to his own project. He can’t believe he’s actually going to tell him something from when he was alive. He starts carving indents into the clay and can practically feel the disappointment from Lucifer, no doubt thinking he was going to stay silent about it once again. He starts to tell his little story regardless. 

“It’s true that when I was alive I enjoyed hunting down and killing those who did not deserve to live. But I don’t know if you know this sire, I lived near a bayou in Louisiana, New Orleans to be specific, and from that came one of my favourite parts of my killings. Once I’d hunted them down, and carved meat off their bones to save, and I’d chopped them all down to pieces I would take them somewhere. I would bring their dead bodies to that same bayou and feed them to the animals that had made their homes there. Sometimes I would simply bury them in the ground, but most times I would feed them to alligators.” He stops what he’s doing briefly to look at Lucifer and grin wide again. “Did you like that little story your majesty? Did you get any useful information from it?” 

Once again Lucifer doesn’t look the slightest bit phased from what he said. He thought that would’ve made him squeamish and want to run away. At least then he could have an excuse to leave as well. But he actually looks interested in what Alastor just said. Why does that make him feel weird inside? Is it a consequence of losing his powers maybe?

He’s brought out of his thoughts by Lucifer looking at him with a bright smile. “Yes actually. I know what I can make for you now. Thanks! You can go back to yours, I won’t bother you anymore.” 

And he doesn’t. 

Alastor spends the rest of the time finishing the clay duck for Lucifer in blissful silence. At least in their little corner, the same could not be said for the rest of the room. Throughout that time he keeps sneaking glances at Lucifer, who seems to have made it impossible for him to see what he’s making, and the man is utterly entranced with what he’s doing. The same feeling from before keeps coming to him every time he looks at the king so he stops looking after a while. 

He finishes the duck with a bit of time to spare so he gets up to put it in the area Charlie marked for any clay projects to go. She said something about them needing to be burned? He’ll have to ask Charlie if he can watch everything burn when she puts them in. For now he goes back to his desk since Charlie won’t let them leave until she tells them they can. 

By the time he gets back Lucifer has finished whatever he was making. He’s still hiding it from view which doesn’t make sense if it’s for him anyway. Lucifer was eyeing him as he walked back across the room and when he sits down Lucifer looks very excited for whatever it is. “Ok I’ve finished mine! Close your eyes and hold your hands out so I can give it to you.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at that. He wanted him to close his eyes and hold his hands out like some sort of child? “Whyever would I do that for when you can just hand me whatever it is you’ve made?” 

“Uhh, it’s for the element of surprise, asshole. Well it’s your loss if you don’t want to be surprised I guess, but Charlie always loved it.” His tone sounded wistful at the end, which makes sense if it’s true that he hasn’t seen her in years if not decades. Lucifer starts undoing whatever he did that has kept what he made hidden from Alastors view, and before he knows what he’s doing he closes his eyes and holds out one hand, palm up. He lets his shadow come out so he can be alerted more easily if something bad happens, but other than that he has no sense of what’s happening. 

Lucifer doesn’t make a sound other than a small, surprised gasp when he must have looked back. It takes a few more seconds than Alastor was expecting, he nearly opened his eyes to see if something had happened and his shadow simply hadn’t told him. Before he has a chance to however, something soft is placed in his outstretched hand. Just as he opens his eyes to see the mystery object he hears Lucifer say “Ok, you can open your eyes now!” 

Sitting on his palm is something he hasn’t seen in nearly a century. Unless you count the dreams he’s been having, which in this instance Alastor doesn’t. It’s an alligator, exactly as he remembers them looking. It’s bigger than his hand but due to the shape it doesn’t fall off. Before he can look at it any longer he lets his shadows consume it and keep it with them. He hopes doing that doesn’t take too much energy from him, but he hasn’t used his powers at all today so hopefully nothing too bad happens. He looks at Lucifer and expresses his thanks. 

Charlie soon lets everyone know that they can leave if they’ve finished. As everyone leaves, Alastor approaches Charlie to ask if he can watch the clay projects be put in the burning contraption. Interestingly, Lucifer doesn’t approach them himself to pester Alastor about spending time with his daughter. He just leaves. Hm. He’s not sure how he feels about that. 

Charlie tells him that he can watch but she’s not sure how exciting it will be for him. Well, he’ll be the judge of what is and isn’t exciting for him. 

Charlie was right. It was not exciting in the slightest. Not that he’d tell her that, once the process was done he took Lucifers duck and left. There wasn’t any fire in that contraption at all! He was quite disappointed in that, but now he’s learnt his lesson and won’t get too excited when he hears that he can watch something burn. 

He has to take the elevator again to get up to his floor, and he isn’t taking his luck for granted. Not one single sinner, or fallen Angel, has ever taken it at the same time as him. When he gets to the top he turns towards his room on instinct but at a tug from his shadow he stops. He looks at it questioningly before it points to the duck still in Alastor's grasp. 

Ah yes. He forgot he grabbed that on the way out. He looks behind him at Lucifers door and back down at the duck. Well there’s no harm in giving it to him now, he has no reason to hold onto it for longer than needed anyway. 

Due to the length of the corridor it takes him about a minute to reach the other end without the help of his shadows. Once he is standing in front of the large, golden, double doors he promptly knocks twice and steps back. He’s never looked too closely at Lucifers doors before, but they do look beautiful. Snakes line the outside, with a shining red apple directly in the centre with six wings sprouting from the back, also in gold. It seems the apple is the only thing that’s not in gold. Looking a bit closer the snakes all seem to have ruby red eyes. 

He’s interrupted by Lucifer opening the doors. He doesn’t have his coat on anymore or his hat and his shirtsleeves are rolled up. “Oh. What do you need Alastor?” He seems like he was expecting someone else but he doesn’t close the door in front of Alastor's face, which is a good sign. 

“The clay project I finished earlier is done so I thought I’d give it to you since we live on the same floor anyway.” 

“Oh. That’s actually very kind of you Alastor. Thank you. I was just going to pick it up after dinner, you didn’t have to do this for me.”

“Well, I did. Here you go Sire.” He thrusts the duck into Lucifers chest and turns around, speed walking back to his own room. He can’t believe Lucifer! Calling him kind. No one else would ever dare to call him kind, and for good reason. 

He’s a sinner who deserves to be in Hell. He’s not kind.

After dinner Alastor feels like he rushes back to his room just so he didn’t run into Lucifer. He didn’t, thankfully. When he does get back to his room and he starts going through his not so new routine he remembers the alligator Lucifer made for him and he brings it out of his shadows. He felt slightly dizzy after bringing it out but he’s sitting down anyway so he doesn’t have to worry about falling over. 

The alligator seemed to be a plush toy based on the material and the give when he squeezed slightly. It was green, but not green like emeralds or fresh grass. It was a darker shade of green like a dark forest or the water in the bayou he grew up in. It was the same exact shade he remembers the alligators looking like. 

He didn’t tell Lucifer directly but alligators are one of his favourite animals. He only wishes he could have them here in his replicated attempt of his precious bayou. 

He stands up and walks over to his bookshelf. He thinks it would look nice sat here on one of the higher shelves. He drapes it carefully in front of the books he has up there, its tail dropping at the end to hang off the edge of the shelf. 

He steps back and admires it for a few moments. Yes. It looks quite nice up there. 

He starts walking over to his bed in the corner of his room, just wanting to go to sleep after the long day. He collapses on the bed and drawers the covers up to him. The only light in the room is coming from the pocket dimension bayou and the fireplace so he doesn’t have to worry about either of them. 

He turns on his side to face away from both of the lights. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep and his last thought before doing so, as it has been every night, is that his dreams start being kinder to him again.