Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were no thunderstorms in Heaven.

Vaggie did not understand how anyone could enjoy this.

The walls groaned as winds smashed debris into the Hotel’s exterior. Lightning flashed bright against the dark sky—had Vaggie not known any better, she would have thought it was night instead of midday. A roar of thunder sent tremors through the foundation of the building.

Or perhaps Vaggie was the one shaking, if the way her teeth chattered was any indication.

Was this normal for a thunderstorm?

Was the building supposed to sound like it was screaming?

“I do love a good ssstorm,” Pentious sighed happily from his spot on the couch, and Vaggie wanted to throw something at him.

Behind the bar counter, Husk snorted. “Sure—it’s all fun and games until you get caught outside with fur.”

“…You make a good point.”

Husk rolled his eyes. Thunder crashed. Vaggie flinched.

Why was the rain so loud?

This storm had come suddenly, catching all of Pentagram City off guard. Aqueous rain in the Pride Ring was rare, and unlike brief acid showers, these rainstorms had the potential to be long and disastrous. In her three years in Hell, Vaggie had been lucky enough to avoid this weather so far.

Charlie promised her it was not so bad.

Vaggie already wanted to vomit.

Her mind was foggy, thoughts slow and sticky as molasses. Her body, on the other hand, vibrated like a live wire—every muscle was pulled taut with suffocating fear and the overwhelming urge to get away from the rain. Distantly, she heard footsteps, but she could not tear her eyes away from the window. A knot tightened in her chest.

Lightning flared through the room. The lights flickered. Vaggie inhaled sharply.

Before she could recover, a deafening crash of thunder shook the entire building. A high-pitched noise—she refused to call it a shriek—tore past her lips.

Pentious snapped his head in her direction, brows furrowed as she hurriedly schooled her expression into one of neutrality. He reached a tentative hand toward her before letting it drop. “Are you…all right?”

She blinked rapidly to clear her vision, belatedly noticing that Husk was gone. When had he left? “I’m fine, Pentious,” she responded, clumsily rubbing her upper arms. Her fingers were numb.

Her voice sounded hollow—and very much not fine.

If Pentious’s frown was any indication, he did not believe her, either.

But before he could speak up, the Hotel doors slammed open—another crash that made her jump—and Angel fell into the lobby. Literally.

Vaggie cringed at the sight of his soaking fur, remembering Husk’s earlier comment, as Pentious quickly moved to help him up.

“Long day?” she asked, digging her nails into her arms as Pentious led Angel to the couch. Her voice wavered as another boom of thunder sent vibrations through the building. Pentious shot her a look, but Angel did not notice her strange behavior as he shook his head.

“Not really, believe it or not. Val actually let us go early.” Angel flopped backwards onto the arm of the couch and scrubbed at his face. “But he made me walk home in the fucking rain.”

Vaggie opened her mouth—but before she could reply, every light in the building flared.

And then the Hotel plunged into darkness.

Chapter Text

“Damn it,” Angel said, but Vaggie barely heard him.

Sickness churned in her gut, and her fingertips tingled as static shot through her hands. She jolted to her feet, only to stumble when she realized she could not fucking see.

Vaggie choked out a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around herself. She was not usually afraid of the dark, but such an unexpected change was the final straw. Blinding fear coiled around her insides as adrenaline screamed in her veins, the likes of which she had not felt in ages.

There was no logical reason to be afraid. No danger—it was not even an acid storm. But for reasons unknown, her body was reacting with abject terror. The urge to run hide get away had practically consumed her.

“Is this normal?” she forced out, tongue like lead in her mouth. Her voice sounded strangely muted, and she could barely make out the silhouettes of Angel and Pentious turning in her general direction as she compelled herself to continue, “During thunderstorms, does the power normally go out?”

Her heart was pounding fast—too fast. It was erratic and harsh in her ears.

“Sometimes,” Pentious said, but there was a frown in his voice, and although she doubted he could see her any better than she could see him, she carefully schooled her expression into one of neutrality.

There had been no thunderstorms in Heaven.

Adam had always warned her about them. Storms were supposed to be a truly horrible fate—yet another reality of Earth and Hell. An ordeal that only the worst of the worst deserved to face.

“Thunderstorms aren’t for angels like us, but don’t worry. Only monsters wind up caught in the rain.”

Vaggie was suddenly hyperaware of her presence in Hell.

Among demons.

As one of them.

Bile rose in her throat. Shame and fear battled inside her—guilt for being a bad angel versus guilt for murdering Sinners. She was glad to be sitting down, because her world tilted.

Adam had been right. Hell was the resting place for the worst of the worst, after all. For people like her.

“I would’ve expected the Princess of Hell to have a storm-proof building,” Angel grumbled, muffled slightly by her too-loud heartbeat. “Fuck, do you think we at least have a generator?”

Vaggie blinked, trying to push aside the tidal wave of emotion and memories. She needed to focus on the present—could not afford to sink into despair. “A—what?”

“Generators produce electricity for individual buildings or estates. Some people use them to keep power running when the grid fails,” Pentious explained. “And I can’t recall Charlie ever mentioning it, but we may have one in the basement. Do either of you have night vision?”

Angel audibly snorted, and Vaggie could hear the roll of his eyes. “A little, but it’s for low-light environments. Pretty much useless in the pitch black.” A clicking noise rang out. “And my phone is dead, so…”

Pentious sighed. “I can’t see in the dark at all. Vaggie?”

She swallowed hard, eyes darting to the bright flashes of lightning that peaked through the window. “No.”

Another bolt of thunder rang out—too soon. Vaggie inhaled sharply and tightened her self-hug.

There was supposed to be a longer interval between lightning and thunder, right? Then what did the short gap mean? Was the storm going to worsen? Was the Hotel in danger? Was—

Angel clapped loudly, and Vaggie flinched. “All right, then!” he announced. His silhouette was dynamic in the intermittent lightning. “So—Pentious, are we going to hope for the best with your phone and my eyes?”

“It does seem like the best plan.”

She cleared her throat. “Is that even safe?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

She hesitated, face growing hot, and was glad neither could see her. “What if the basement floods?”

Angel immediately burst out cackling, only to cut off at the sound of a light smack. “Hey!”

“Be nice, Spider!”

“Youch! That was my face, you bastard!”

“Oh. Apologies, then.” To Vaggie, Pentious assured her, “The basement won’t flood—the Hotel is uphill, so water can’t collect here. If it was going to flood, it would have done so by now.”

Right.

That made more sense.

Internally sighing, Vaggie rose with the two of them. She hated the idea of going down to the basement, but she hated the idea of staying alone in the dark lobby even more, and so guided by Pentious’s flashlight, the three of them carefully made their way to the stairs—and Vaggie shuddered because in the dim lighting, the basement stairs almost resembled a gaping maw. She swallowed hard.

“Well,” Angel spoke up, sounding unusually calm for the situation at hand. “Let’s do this.”