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There was a knock on the front door of the hotel.
Charlie frowned. It was a hotel, so sinners usually didn't knock anymore; they just came in, and Vaggie, or whoever was manning the front desk, would get them all settled. It set her a bit on edge. Everything had been so busy lately, what with Alastor and the angels and… Vox.
Vox.
That whole thing was still fresh and made her stomach clench with unease.
Normally, she wasn't even in the main lobby; she'd just been passing through when she heard the knock. And, with no one else really around…
She hurried over and pushed open the door, "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" She froze, words dying in her throat, bright smile fading.
Valentino stood in the doorway. Towered really. He was so tall. Wrapped up in his usual crimson coat, which obscured everything underneath.
The instinctive surge of fear, hate, disgust. A member of the Vees. The still vivid memories of when she'd visited the studio in a misguided attempt to help Angel. That hurt and embarrassment and utter humiliation. He'd hurt Angel. She'd hurt Angel.
And then she'd let- No, she'd invited both Vox and Velvette here to the hotel. What was supposed to have been a safe space for him. And she'd hurt him again. But…
Angel wasn't here. Not anymore. He'd left. Gone back. Refused to talk to any of them. Not to her, not to Husk, not even to Cherri. Or, at least not that they'd admit.
She'd robbed Angel of the one place he'd been safe from the Vees and now… He'd given up. Abandoned the concept of redemption. And it was all her fault.
Charlie stood in the doorway. She could feel that her expression was hard and unfriendly, but didn't even try to change it. The stirrings of transformation tingling through her body. With but a thought, she could have released it, her powers swelling around her to manifest her horns and tail, but she refrained. For now.
"What do you want." The words fell cold and heavy from her lips.
Valentino hesitated. Seemed almost uncertain, far from the smug, powerful overlord who always oozed confidence and sexuality.
That leering smile, barking orders across the studio. An overwhelming presence to him, loud and in-your-face, even when doing absolutely nothing. His furious words, dripping with saccharine sweetness. Returning from the dressing room, dragging Angel by the arm, hard and bruising, practically throwing him on the floor. Angel, so angry and scared and defending him, even as a black eye developed, dark and swelling.
He owned Angel. Still owned Angel. He could do anything to him, and she couldn't do anything to stop it. To protect him. Especially now.
Anger roiled within her. Like fire, lava, crackling brimstone. She could feel her eyes going demonic red.
"I-" He shifted, seemed uncomfortable, unsure. "I'm here to see Vox."
Despite his changed demeanor from prior encounters, he was still imposing. Massive. Towering over her.
Charlie's jaw tightened. Why was he here? What did he want? Was he going to try to grab Vox and run? It didn't make sense. Last she knew, the Vees had all but shattered from infighting. But- She didn't- She couldn't trust him. "He's not awake yet."
The one luxuriously fluffy-looking antenna twitched. "That's fine." Valentino crossed his arms, all four of them, mouth set in an unhappy line. "I… I just want to see him."
Charlie frowned. Suspicious. "Why."
One of Valentino's fingers was tapping a steady rhythm against his bicep. His head lowered toward his chest, partially obscuring his face behind his ruff as it twisted into an odd expression. Both antennae dipping back. "We're partners."
"Still? After everything he- But you-" Her exclamations trailed off, unable to verbalize the frantic spinning of her thoughts.
Valentino shrugged, a stiff, awkward movement; almost brittle, but didn't offer any further explanation.
He was… Quiet. Withdrawn. It was off-putting. So different from the Valentino she'd previously met or seen in advertisements or heard about in the little stories that Angel would sometimes tell. Angel-
But Angel wasn't here. He was here for Vox. So as long as she supervised the visit… What was the harm?
To be certain, Charlie allowed her powers to burst free. Horns erupting at her temples, tail whipping around her, hair swirling loose in the vortex of her power. "You will not bother anyone staying here. Got that?" She all but snarled, eyes serious and narrowed.
Valentino simply nodded. Expression drawn, almost resigned.
She allowed her demonic form to subside, settling back to normal. "Okay. Good." She took a calming breath through her nose. "Come on then."
As she moved back inside the hotel, Valentino followed. Silent and unobjecting. Not a single comment. Not even really looking around. Eyes narrowed behind his enormous heart-shaped glasses. Distant.
They made their way unassailed up the flight of stairs and off to an otherwise uninhabited hallway. The few sinners they passed skittered out of the way, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves.
Coming to a stop at a door just like all the others, Charlie pulled out the key. "As I said, he's not back yet but-" She inserted the key into the lock and pushed the door open.
The room was simple, one of the many identical guest rooms, but lacking any personalization for its resident. A chest of drawers and a bed with a small table and chair arranged next to it.
Tucked into the bed was Vox, arms resting over the sheets. Deathly still. Well- technically still dead. Regenerating. Over half his screen had been absolutely obliterated. Really just- Gone. Nothing left but a mangled mess of wires and plastic and circuit board and shattered glass jutting from what remained of his head.
It was… Weird. Sickening to see him like this. It wasn't so much the… Gore, you got pretty used to that sort of thing living in Hell. But this was different somehow. Something about the pristine environment around him, how he didn't even breathe, made it worse. Creepy. How, so, so slowly his screen reconstructed. From day to day, the remaining pieces would shift and reassemble. Minutely, seemingly only when no one was around. Of course, she knew it happened; sinners couldn't die- not normally. But she'd never actually observed it before. Not in person.
Valentino stepped past her into the room, the soft click of his unseen heels against the wooden floor until he crossed onto the rug. He moved slowly, almost tentative, as he approached, coming to a halt next to the bed, towering over the prone, unresponsive form. He shifted, one leg slipping out from under his coat and hooking around the leg of the nearby chair to drag it close. Folding himself into the seat.
Then, he reached out. Carefully, delicately, lifting Vox's lifeless hand from where it rested on the sheets. His long, black fingers curling under the cyan, almost crystalline claws of Vox's. Thumb gently stroking over the back of his hand. He leaned over, placing a tender, lingering kiss upon it.
He murmured something in Spanish that she didn't quite catch and then continued. "Vuelve a mí, cariño. Eres mi todo, mi precioso pararrayos. Solo vuelve a mí." His voice, so soft, so gentle, so adoring.
Charlie flushed; she was an intruder in this moment. In this room. She shouldn't be seeing this, hearing this- even though she didn't understand what he was saying, just the tone of his voice gone so agonizingly soft said plenty, it felt too open, too vulnerable, too private.
But- Could she really leave Valentino alone in the hotel? He-
But what could he really do? Vox was still regenerating, and given the state of his screen, it would take at least another week- maybe even multiple weeks before he awoke. And- Angel wasn't here.
She stepped back from the doorway where she'd been hovering, closing it behind her to block out the almost melodic lilting of Valentino's voice as he continued speaking- so soft and achingly gentle.
Charlie sank to the floor nearby, back against the wall, arms wrapped around her knees, cheek pressed into the crook of her elbow. She'd wait here and walk him back out. Make sure he didn't cause any trouble; no one else was getting hurt on her watch. But… She'd give him privacy; everyone deserved that much courtesy, even-
Even him, as awful as he was. As they both were.
Vox with his horrible smooth talking. Twisting and twisting their words, spin after spin, manipulating everyone- Using Angel, using her dad, using her mom's name. She felt sick even just thinking about it.
And Valentino.
She shuddered, blinking back tears. Angel. Fuck. She missed him so much. She hadn't done enough for him. Had hurt him so much. Of course, it had been an accident; she hadn't meant it, driven by a desperation to prove that she could do this. That she could help sinners. She could fix it. Prove to everyone that redemption was possible. But all she'd ever done was drive him away. And now, after everything.
Everything she'd done. Valentino had done. Vox had done. He was gone. Back to the tower. And he wouldn't talk to any of them anymore.
There had to be something she could do. Something that would fix this. But- Everything she'd done had only made things worse for him. She couldn't do that to Angel again. Maybe- Maybe he just needed space. Maybe he'd come back eventually. Given time. But she couldn't force things. She had to give him time. To wait for him. There was an eternity in Hell, so…
All she really could do was…
Wait.
No matter how much she hated it.
Waiting…
It had been… A long time. After the first several minutes, Charlie had started messing around on her phone to pass the time. But it was now approaching an hour and… What was Valentino even doing in there?
Her skin crawled at the images conjured up by her mind. But- Surely not, right? Even Valentino wouldn't… But now implanted, the thoughts wouldn't leave, she'd just… Check. Make sure everything was okay.
Clambering to her feet, Charlie tentatively knocked on the door. It was silent. Painfully silent.
"Uh, hello? Everything okay in there?" She carefully eased the door open.
Valentino was almost exactly as she'd left him. Long limbs folded into the chair at the bedside. Cradling Vox's limp hand within his own. Head dipped low over their combined hands, his one long antenna draped down to lay across Vox's unmoving chest.
Guilt immediately began to gnaw at her stomach. Of course, nothing like that had been happening; how could she even think that? Was she really that judgmental? Sure, he was terrifying and awful to Angel but- He wasn't that bad, surely. Anything awful in his films was just that- A film. It wasn't real, well, technically. Sort of. Maybe? She didn't want to think about that. Besides, sinners could change. Anyone could be redeemed, she truly believed that. If they wanted to. If they tried. And, who knows, maybe this was the beginning. Surely anyone capable of such gentleness had something good inside them, no matter how deeply it was buried.
She cleared her throat, "Uh, everything okay in here?"
With a gusty sigh, Valentino shifted, one ruby eye opening to gaze at her before squeezing shut for a long moment. When he rose from the chair, it was a smooth and fluid movement, just like how Angel had always moved. "I should be going. Velvette will want me back." His voice was low, like he didn't want to disturb the quiet.
He still cradled Vox's hand in his own.
Valentino bent in half, first towards the mangled wreckage of Vox's head, "Te quiero con todo mi corazón." His antenna flicked and fluttered, ghosting over the exposed mess of wires and circuits. He dipped his head to Vox's hand. Pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, then carefully turning it over to brush one against his inner wrist, and one more to the palm of his hand. The claws of Vox's limp fingers almost seemed to curl in a caress against Valentino's cheek with the pressure. "Te necesito en mi vida, mi amor. Volveré pronto a ti." He murmured into the palm before withdrawing. Carefully settling the hand back against the bed and extracting himself with a lingering touch. Reluctant to let go. To leave. Like letting go was physically painful.
The whole thing was so achingly tender that Charlie felt herself flushing again, it was… Sweet. And uncomfortable. To know Valentino was capable of horrific violence and yet… How gentle he was with Vox's unresponsive, still regenerating body. Like it was something delicate and fragile and irreparably precious.
His partner… It was hard to wrap her head around.
What she knew of the Vees as public figures and from her own personal experience with them just… Didn't fit with the Valentino she was seeing in this room. She didn't understand it. The Vees had been- maybe still were? A team. But they never seemed close. At least, not like this. Particularly Vox always seemed so… Distant. Always smiles and a grating charisma but… It was hard to express what he always seemed like. Present but still apart?
Valentino made his way over to her, heels clicking as they came off the rug and back onto wood. His expression closed off, unreadable. "Let's go, Princessa."
Charlie led the way back to the main lobby, casting puzzled glances back at the moth overlord as they went. She pushed open the front door, and Valentino stepped through. Before she could reconsider or stop herself, Charlie found herself asking, "Are you going to be visiting again?"
He stopped, antennae flicking as he came to a halt. He was silent for a long moment before looking back over his shoulder without speaking.
She managed a tentative smile, "I-I'm sure Vox would appreciate it."
At that, some of the stiffness she hadn't even noticed seemed to leave his body, shoulders relaxing minutely, as Valentino exhaled through his nose, mouth pulling into something resembling a smile- though not one of the alarming toothy ones- just a small upturn of the lips. His voice was quiet as he spoke. "Yes, I… I think I might do that."
"Uh, well, that's great!" She hedged uncertainly. Not sure what response she'd actually been hoping for, but suddenly feeling like maybe that wasn't it. "Umm, I-I guess I'll, I'll probably be seeing you around then?"
After a brief hesitation, Valentino nodded decisively and turned, heading off away from the hotel.
Shit.
Should she have asked about Angel? Charlie frowned as she closed the door. But she was trying to give Angel space and- If Valentino was part of the problem, she didn't want to make it worse for him again. She'd already caused him so much pain and suffering. Maybe… Maybe she'd ask next time. Or, she'd talk to the others first. Husk and Cherri and Vaggie, see what they thought.
That is, if Valentino actually returned. Though… The way we had spoken to Vox. The way his voice had purred, so soft, loving. She may not have understood the words, but the way he said them. The same way Vaggie sometimes spoke to her.
The absolute tenderness with which he touched Vox's hand. Like he was cradling all that was precious and good in the world, and if he wasn't careful, it would break, shatter apart beyond repair.
The gentle kisses, with none of the overt sexuality he usually exuded, not at all the way he'd licked his way up her arm when they first met at his studio- her skin still crawled at the memory. But- chaste and lingering, like he couldn't bear the thought of pulling away, like each touch could be the last. Like, if it were a fairytale, he was awakening his sleeping princess- er, well, sleeping prince? Or-
Charlie dismissed it with a shake of her head, cheeks warming again.
But, yes, she was certain. Valentino would be back…