9 Chapter 9: Part two of the Past

Chapter 9

_________

Day 3

She felt her entire body sore and on fire, as she came back to the land of conciseness, her body protesting every tiny movement she tried to make. Vaggie groaned, squinting against the harsh brightness that seemed to pierce through her eyelids. She blinked her eyes open and was met with the sight of a well-lit room that certainly wasn't the filthy alley where she had lost consciousness.

What happened? What is this place? 

She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her back, causing her to collapse back onto the bed. Her wings… they were no longer there. Instead, she felt a strange emptiness, a void at her back where once there were two beautiful wings. The memory of their loss hit her like a punch in the gut.

"Easy now," a soothing aged voice said, and she turned her head, her eyes meeting an anthropomorphic sheep demon's concerned gaze. "You've been through a lot. Rest."

"…Who are you?"

"Lilly," The demon woman replied, her voice soft. "I am a caretaker of this mansion and the one who's been looking after you since you arrived."

Vaggie's eyes flickered around the room, taking in the polished wooden floors, the high ceiling, and the large windows that allowed the grimy light of Hell to seep through. It had an air of comfort that seemed so out of place in a realm such as theirs.

"Taking care of me?" She mumbled to herself, looking down at the bandages and stitches that were on her battered body. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Three days," Lilly answered, she moved to grab a glass of water and hand it to her. 

Vaggie's eyes widened at the news, shakily taking the water from the demon's hand. 

"You had some severe injuries. Your wings..." she began but trailed off, noticing Vaggie's pained expression.

"Yes... my wings," Vaggie echoed quietly, reaching toward her back, her fingers brushing over the smooth skin where her wings once resided. The loss was much more than physical; it was as if a piece of her soul, of her identity, had been ripped away.

And three days… that was longer than she had expected. A grim realization washed over her as the impact of her current state sunk in. She was weak, defenseless, without her wings… and in Hell.

"Where… where am I?" She muttered; her voice barely audible. "Who brought me here?"

"You're in Alastor's home, sweetie. He carried you here in his arms while you were bleeding to death, don't you remember?"

The name sent a jolt through Vaggie's heart, the memories of that night crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She remembered his handsome smile, his vibrant red eyes – eyes that held no warmth but managed to ignite a glimmer of hope within her battered heart.

"Alastor…" she repeated the name quietly, remembering his chilling words from before she blacked out. She remembered the feel of his coat underneath her clutching fingers, how he cared for her wounded back despite his callous admission of self-interest.

"I should thank him," Vaggie said weakly, trying once again to sit up.

"Not so fast," Lilly chided gently, placing a restraining hand on Vaggie's shoulder and easing her back down onto the bed. "Your body hasn't fully recovered yet. You need more rest."

"I can't rest!" Vaggie protested weakly. "I need to find him...to thank him." She tried to push herself up again, but Lilly placed a firm hand on her chest that held her down against the soft mattress.

"No 'needs' about it," replied Lilly with a stern look on her face. She sighed, her expression softening as she looked at the injured angel. "Alastor hasn't left this mansion since he brought you here, you'll have plenty of chances to thank him. He's been unusually quiet, almost as if he's lost in—"

A knock on the door interrupted them before Lilly could respond. The door creaked open and the towering figure of Alastor stepped in. His suit was as immaculate and crisp as ever, his signature radio microphone cane glinting in the dim light along with a smile.

 "Ah, our sleeping beauty finally awakens!" He announced with a grin, his voice filled with a charm that was both disconcerting and captivating. His red eyes twinkled, a hint of amusement dancing in the scarlet depths. "I thought you'd sleep through the entire century!" 

He walked into the room, a spring in his steps, and turned to the sheep maid.

 "How is she, Lilly?" 

"Getting stronger," Lilly answered, glancing from Vaggie to Alastor. "She's awake, as you can see,"

Alastor nodded; his gaze fixed on the injured angel.  "I can see that," he chuckled, his jovial tone subdued. He walked over to stand at the foot of Vaggie's bed, his hands resting on his cane.

"But she's definitely not ready to engage in any sort of conversation or activity... even if it's a simple thank you."

Alastor simply chuckled at that, a rich sound that filled the room, making it feel less dreary for a moment. He approached Vaggie's bedside, causing the injured angel to stiffen with an instinctive fear that was quickly overridden by curiosity and... gratitude.

 "Now, now, Lilly," Alastor began the smile forever on his face. "Let's not be so hasty in dismissing our guest's wishes. I'm sure she's simply dying to express her gratitude to me." 

With a flourish, he pulled up a chair beside Vaggie's bed and sat down, his gaze never leaving the angel's face.

 "And how are we feeling today, my dear?" he asked with a wide Cheshire smile.

Vaggie eyed him cautiously and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "A-A lot better than I was three days ago," she replied, struggling to keep her voice steady despite the pain that radiated from her back.

 "One would hope so," Alastor replied, his faint smile lingering. He leaned against the bedpost, studying Vaggie with a curious expression.  "But you're still not completely well and I insist you take all the rest you need~" 

The room was silent as he sat next to her on the bed, his towering presence filling the room. Alastor was known to be ruthless, a demon with no sympathy for others. Yet here he was, having saved a fallen angel and has apparently taken care of her for days.

 "A promise is a promise and fortunately for you," Alastor's words cut into the air as he lifted his vivid eyes to meet hers, "I am a man of my word." 

 "A promise?" Vaggie thought, her mind racing. Did he mean when he said he'd look out for her? She remembered their conversation from the alleyway, his words had been cryptic.

"I am… grateful." She managed to say with effort, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "For what you have done…" She paused, her gaze dropping to the crisp white sheets covering her body. She felt a surge of uneasy apprehension as she continued. "But I must ask, what was your… promise?"

 "You don't know?" Alastor leaned back casually against the chair, turning his head to his maid. "Lilly, would you be a dear and get the boy? I'm sure our darling angel would love to see him!" 

The fair-haired maid nodded her head and hurried out of the room, leaving Vaggie alone with Alastor. The demon watched her, his red eyes shimmering in the dim light. He tilted his head slightly, studying her with an unreadable smile.

 "Can't recall much from that night, can you?" His question hung in the air like a thick fog enveloping them both. Vaggie looked at him straight, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember.

"I... I remember enough," she managed to say, her voice wavering slightly. The cold, hateful look her commander gave her as she ripped out her wings flashed through her mind.

Silence quickly dominated the room, both demon and angel having no words to say. Alastor watches her face twist with various emotions, making him twitch as she does so. He was no stranger to pain and torment; it was practically the currency of Hell, after all. But seeing it play across the face of this fallen angel stirred something in him he couldn't quite define. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out but static.

Just when it seemed that neither of them would speak again, there was a knock on the door and Lilly returned. In her arms, she held a small, terrified-looking figure. A boy, no more than ten years old, with fancy clothing and smooth hair. His eyes were wide, full of concern and worry as they darted around the room until they landed on her where a bright smile bloomed on his face.

"Vaggie! You awake!" He shouted out as he climbed down from Lilly's arms and rushed to the bedside.

 "There we are," Alastor said with a smile, nodding towards Lilly. His gaze then fell back onto Vaggie's face, savoring her surprised expression.  "Isn't he excited?" 

"Tommy!" Vaggie breathed out, her hand reaching out to hold the boy's hand. Her eyes softened, the first real smile since she'd woken to crease her face. "You're... you're alright!"

The boy nodded eagerly, enjoying the warmth of her hand. "I'm okay thanks to Mr. Alastor!" he said, looking at Alastor with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"Are you okay? Do you feel better now?" His voice was an eager chirp, each word tumbling out over the other in his excitement.

Vaggie swallowed heavily, lifting her other hand to brush away the stray lock of hair that had fallen into the child's eyes. She nodded, unable to find her voice as memories flooded back. Memories that she had tried to tuck deep within herself, too fresh and raw to revisit.

"I…" The words caught in her throat as she looked at Alastor for an explanation. He merely smiled and spread his hands wide in a grand gesture.

 "The boy ran into me while I was on my daily stroll of hell," Alastor revealed, motioning towards the boy with a tilt of his head. "It was quite the shock when he grabbed onto my legs and begged me with tears in his eyes to save the 'kind' angel lady. And me, being the gentleman I am, of course, couldn't refuse such a pitiful plea for help!" 

 "So, I promised the poor boy to save this kind angel and here we are! With you alive and well~! Haha!" The laugh in his voice echoed through the room.

The fallen angel stared at him, her eyes growing wide as the realization washed over her. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon of Hell, had saved her because of a promise made to a child. Overwhelmed with a surge of emotions, Vaggie took a moment to gather her thoughts. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, evidence of how deeply this revelation had affected her.

Vaggie could hardly believe it; she thought he was deceiving her and was waiting for the perfect moment to pull the rug under her and laugh at her expense. But when she looked into his eyes, all she saw was sincerity.

"So." Her voice was slightly stronger now. "You did it because you promised him you would?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his crimson eyes never leaving hers.  "The boy was so earnest, my dear. It would have been too cruel not to honor his request." 

She watched him, waiting for the moment he would reveal the cold, ruthless truth.

…But it never came.

"Thank you," she finally managed to say, lifting her gaze to meet his. Alastor seemed surprised by the gratitude in her eyes, but he quickly covered it up with a wide grin.

 "I simply delivered what I promised, my dear," he replied, his casual tone not betraying the curiosity that flickered in his eyes.

"What happens now?" Vaggie asked, touching Tommy's hand with a gentle grip. The boy leaned against her bed, staring at Alastor with unwavering dedication. It was obvious he admired him - which unsettled her given Alastor's reputation.

 "That," Alastor began, leaning back on his chair while crossing his legs, "is entirely up to you." 

Looking at the silent angel and the overlord, the little sinner came up with an answer.

"Can she... can she stay here?" Tommy asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were wide and hopeful as they darted between Vaggie and Alastor.

A stunned silence filled the room while Alastor's smile widened so much it nearly split his face. His long fingers gently tapped against the armrest of his chair, creating a rhythm only he seemed to hear. He seemed to ponder Tommy's request, the silence stretching into minutes. Vaggie held her breath, her mind racing with thoughts on what she would do now that she was cast out of heaven.

Alastor studied the boy for a moment before glancing at Vaggie, who looked surprised. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And why would you want her to stay here, young man?" 

"Because she's nice!" Tommy answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation. His small fingers tightened around Vaggie's hand, his other hand gripping onto the edge of the bed.

 "Nice is not always rewarded in Hell, little one," Alastor mused, leaning toward the boy while tilting his head to one side.

"B-But... but she saved me!" Tommy's voice rose, pleading and desperate. His gaze turned to Vaggie, wide and beseeching as if he believed she had some sort of power over Alastor's decision. "You won't send her away... right?"

His words hung in the air, heavy and full of desperate hope. Vaggie glanced at Alastor, reading the muted amusement in his eyes. He was enjoying this, she realized. His eyes suddenly turned and met hers, causing her to flinch in surprise.

 "I am more than willing to let her stay and heal from her injuries, but whether she stays or goes after recovering is entirely up to her." 

Tommy looked between Alastor and Vaggie, his little face crumpled in confusion and anxiety. Vaggie squeezed his hand softly, offering him a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

 "That settles it then!" Alastor said cheerfully, all too pleased at how things were turning out. He pushed himself up from his chair with an almost cat-like grace, crossing the room towards the exit.

 "Lilly~!" he called over his shoulder, just as he was about to leave the room. The demon woman hurriedly came to his side, looking flustered.

 "Take care of our little angel's any need," he ordered her, which earned him an angry growl from the angel when he said the word 'little'.

"But of course, Master," Lilly replied with a respectful bow of her head, her gaze flickering towards Vaggie.

 "I do hope you make yourself comfortable, Vaggie. This is your home now... if you wish it to be." He said with a big smile.

Once Alastor had left the room, the air seemed to lighten - as though the intensity he carried with him had been sucking the oxygen out of the room. Once her master left, the maid turned towards her ward.

"Are you hungry, Miss Vaggie?" Lilly asked in a quiet voice, her demeanor gentler now that they were alone. "I can fetch you something to eat."

"Mmm," Vaggie hummed noncommittally. She wasn't sure whether she had an appetite or not but nodded anyway. Lilly seemed relieved at her answer and turned to leave, presumably to follow through on her offer.

"Come along now, Tommy." She beckoned the boy to follow her. "We need to continue your lesson if you want to earn your keep hurry~"

"Coming Miss Lilly!"

Tommy answered promptly, a bright excitement sparkling in his eyes. He gave Vaggie's hand one final squeeze before he scampered after Lilly, leaving the angel alone.

With their departure, silence filled the room. Vaggie found herself staring blankly at the ornate decorations adorning the room. Intricate patterns of gold and crimson danced along the high ceiling, seeming to play tricks on her eyes.

She felt a sense of unease creeping into her heart. She was in Hell, saved by an overlord who had no reason to do so except for a promise made to a child. Vaggie sighed deeply, sinking back into the plush bedding, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to relax for the first time since she had awoken.

Did she make the right choice to stay here?

…only time could tell.

———

Day 5

Vaggie slowly adapted to the rhythm of Hell despite being bedridden, to the opaque red skies and sulphuric air that filled her lungs. She readjusted to the change in pace, the strange customs, and the curious creatures that populated each corner of Alastor's domain. But most disconcerting, she adjusted to Alastor himself.

He was unlike anyone she had ever met. He was heartless yet held a peculiar sense of honor. There were more than a few unsavory egotistical upstart demons who wanted to test their mantel against a powerful overlord like Alastor and would come to challenge him in his own home, but they found themselves quickly regretting as they were ripped apart in mere seconds. 

They were all given the chance to run while they had the chance, but as you can imagine their massive ego got in the way of seeing the massive fuck up they committed.

Yet, he proved to be nothing but courteous towards her.

"Good morning, angel," he would greet her with a mug of coffee in hand, always dressed in his fancy red suit every time she saw him. Acting as if he didn't just gruesomely rip apart a demon's guts and shoved it back down their throat not even a second ago.

But what bothered Vaggie the most was the mug in his hand he was sipping on as he did so.

The words on the mug being 'OH DEER'.

———

Day 8

By now, Vaggie was beginning to find her place in the overlord's home. Conversations with Tommy, whenever he was on a break, became a comforting routine, the boy's constant curiosity peppering her days with minute distractions.

Lilly proved to be good company as well, offering words of advice and assistance whenever she could. Despite being a demon, she carried the air of a motherly figure for both Vaggie and Tommy.

Alastor himself remained somewhat of an enigma. Despite his monstrous abilities and sadistic delight in carnage, there was a sense of order to him; a peculiar discipline that seemed to govern his actions in a way that was both baffling and contrary to what she knew about demons.

He would slip out before dawn, his destination a mystery to all but himself. He would be gone throughout the day, journeying to God knows where and doing God knows what. But always, at some unexpected hour, he would appear by her bedside. She could never predict when he would appear, but she somewhat welcomed his visits, seeing as she didn't have much going for her for company besides Lilly and Tommy.

His intimidating demeanor never faltered but Vaggie couldn't help but notice the little things. The way he'd leave a hot mug of coffee for her every morning, or how he'd not so subtly try to make her laugh with a stupid joke that mostly ended with a terrible pun.

And so it was, the passing of days in Hell. Vaggie's injuries were healing well under Lilly's diligent care. Still not well enough to be out of bed, but it was getting there.

———

Day 11

 "And so, the boy who lived slew the basilisk and saved the day~" 

Every evening, Alastor would take his place on an overstuffed chair by the hearth, a book in hand as he absently amused Tommy, who was sitting on his lap, with tales of beasts and warriors from a time long past. His voice was mesmerizing, a strange lullaby that lulled the young boy into easy dreams.

This was quickly becoming a daily thing, much to the boy's joy.

Vaggie found herself oddly drawn to the scene, the soft flicker of firelight casting shadows on Alastor's captivating face. He was a creature of chaos and yet, there he was, a beacon of tranquility in this moment of reprieve. She felt a strange sense of warmth bubble up within her at the sight but quickly quashed it down. She could not – would not – allow herself to grow soft. This was hell after all, and he was dangerous even when he didn't look like it.

"Again! Again!" Tommy exclaimed excitedly, wanting him to read another story even though that was the third one that night.

 "Alright! Alright! I suppose we can read a couple more chapters! What do you say, angel? Awake enough for another story~?" 

Turning towards Vaggie, Alastor's red eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room, a sheepish grin on his face. Vaggie found herself matching his gaze, a small smile pulling at her lips as she nodded her agreement.

"One more story wouldn't hurt."

___

Day 13

Vaggie had gotten used to the nightly reading sessions. They were an odd, but welcome, addition to the routine. Tommy adored them, and Alastor seemed quite happy with the arrangement as well. She could see the effect it had on him - the way his usual stone-cold smiling face lit up when Tommy laughed at his jokes or praised his various accents and impersonations.

She had also discovered an unusual talent of Alastor's - his ability to mimic voices. His impersonation of the characters added a certain charm to the storytelling sessions. It amused Vaggie to see Alastor, a feared overlord, getting into the spirit of the narration as he switched between various accents and tones.

 "I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friend more'n broomsticks or rats. That's all." Alastor's voice rumbled with a thick English accent, doing his best at what he thought Hagrid would sound like.

Tommy recoiled dramatically, feigning horror as he clutched his little chest. "You got it all wrong, Mr. Alastor! Hagrid doesn't talk like that!" The boy protested, his laughter filling the room. Lilly chuckled from the doorway, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

 "Truly? I thought I did pretty well with that English and Irish accent mix for Hagrid~ Hahaha!" 

Vaggie found herself laughing along, her heart fluttering at the sheer normality of the moment despite everything being the opposite.

Perhaps it was the warmth of these moments, or maybe it was the fact he was acting as a normal person instead of a powerful, evil overlord. But Vaggie found herself softening towards Alastor. She would often catch herself staring at him as he told his stories, her eyes tracing the curve of his lips and the gleam in his eyes.

These warm moments spent with Alastor seemed to melt away his menacing facade, revealing a surprisingly normal and charming individual. She found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn't explain, her usually guarded demeanor slowly softening as she spent more time with the demon.

____

Day 17

…Vaggie was staring at Alastor.

…

…

…

And he was staring back.

…This has been going on for a good five minutes now, and during those five minutes, there was nothing but total silence between them.

The tension was palpable, electric. The crackling fire was the only sound in the otherwise hushed room. Alastor's red eyes were as impassive as ever, his lips twisted into a small, unreadable smile. Vaggie felt a blush creep up her neck and dust her cheeks as the minutes passed by.

Lilly was out for the day to run some errands and Tommy was asleep on the couch, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet room.

The silence stretched on like a rubber band pulled taut, ready to snap at any second.

Finally, Alastor cleared his throat and glanced away.  "So," he began, his voice cool and casual as though they hadn't been locked in an intensely awkward staring contest for the past few minutes. "I see that you're awake." 

Vaggie rolled her eyes at Alastor's attempt to play off what just happened. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to project an air of indifference, but the heat in her cheeks told a different story.

Through it all, Alastor was still smiling - that same damn smile that made her heart flutter and her stomach churn simultaneously.

"Yes," she replied, a touch of sarcasm seeping into her tone. "What was your first clue? Me opening my eyes and seeing you creepily staring at me while I was asleep?"

Alastor chuckled in response, his smile never wavering. "Oh, you wound me, Vaggie! I was merely ensuring your stitches weren't causing discomfort. But if my consideration is seen as 'creepy', then perhaps I should refrain..." 

"No!" Vaggie quickly interjected, surprised at the sting of guilt that washed over her. She had spent the last few days growing used to Alastor's strange notions of care, and despite her initial objections, she found herself apricating it now. She sighed and lowered her gaze. "That's... That's not what I meant. I just didn't expect to see your face so close to mine. I'm sorry for being rude when you're just trying to help me."

Alastor studied her for a moment, his sharp gaze softening slightly. There was an unusual patience to him, an understanding that should be foreign in Hell and yet wasn't. It left her feeling warm, safe even.

 "Apology accepted dear!" He said as he plopped back down to his chair that was beside the bed. "Now, please lend me your hand! I think I saw one of your stitches became loose while you were sleeping!" 

Vaggie let out a deep, exasperated sigh, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as she reluctantly offered him her hand. She couldn't help but turn red at his touch, which seemed to ignite a fire on her skin with every brush of his fingertips. Her face burned with embarrassment at the intensity of her reaction to his simple gesture.

Unbeknownst to her, a faint blush crept across Alastor's face, barely detectable unless one were to look very closely.

_____

Day 20

"How did someone like you end up here?" Vaggie suddenly asked Lilly one day out of the blue.

Lilly paused in her task of tidying up the room, her expression thoughtful as she considered Vaggie's question. She set aside the cloth she was holding and turned to face the fallen angel.

"Why the sudden question, sweetie?" Her voice held a hint of curiosity and concern as she turned to face the person who had just asked her this sudden question. She furrowed her brow, wondering what could have prompted such an inquiry.

The angel took a moment, deep in thought as she searched for the delicate words to convey his message without causing offense.

"…You seem too… good, for lack of a better term," Vaggie hesitated, carefully choosing her words. "I mean, with Alastor, I understand why he's here in Hell. But you? Your kind, considerate…" her voice trailed off as she studied Lilly's face for any sign of a reaction.

Lilly chuckled softly at the comment, her gaze falling on Tommy who was curled up on the couch, engrossed in a book. "There's a saying on Earth, something about the road to hell being paved with good intentions.

There was an air of sadness around Lilly as she spoke those words, something that sparked curiosity in Vaggie. The fallen angel wanted to press on but hesitated – it was clear that Lilly's past was a sensitive subject. She was about to drop the topic entirely when Lilly finally decided to elaborate.

"Before I arrived here…" Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, making sure the boy wouldn't overhear. "I had a family when I was alive. A loving husband and two beautiful little girls, Daisy and Olivia. Our life was ordinary, not full of excitement, but filled with so much love and happiness~ that it didn't matter to us."

Her voice wavered a bit, her hands clasping each other tightly. "We lived in a small town, far away from the bustling city. It was peaceful, serene...and oh so beautiful." She choked out, eyes getting misty. "I was...happy."

Vaggie found herself absorbed into Lilly's tale, the emotions in her voice painting a vivid image. She could imagine the picturesque setting, and could almost feel the abundant love Lilly spoke of.

"But then..." She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat. When she continued, it was with a hollow laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "You know how they say that good things never last? Well...they were right."

Lilly fell silent again, her gaze distant and foggy as if she were replaying these haunting memories in her mind. Her hands were clenched so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

"What happened?" Vaggie asked quietly, afraid to break Lilly's reverie but also driven by an inescapable need to know. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of Lilly's silence, the air thick with unvoiced sorrow.

"We weren't rich, in fact, we barely had enough to get by each day," Lilly finally spoke again, pain filling her voice. "My husband and I worked tirelessly every day just to put food on the table for our girls, but it was never enough. The debts and bills kept piling up, leaving us no room to buy even a single crumb of bread for our daughters...until one day, we found ourselves in a position where we had no other choice."

Lilly's voice trembled with suppressed anguish as she recounted the events that led to her downfall. Vaggie listened intently, her heart aching for the pain Lilly must have endured. Lilly's voice trembled with suppressed anguish as she recounted the events that led to her family's downfall. Vaggie listened intently, her heart aching for the pain Lilly must have endured.

"M-My daughters became sick, they were so weak and frail that their smiles which used to light up my world, started fading. The life in their eyes was replaced by a dull, lifeless look that I...I couldn't bear to see," Lilly's voice was barely a whisper now, the pain too raw and fresh even after all these years. "In my desperation, I...I-"

"We... we made a desperate decision," Lilly continued her voice barely above a whisper. "We turned to... unsavory means to make ends meet. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say, we strayed far from the right path at the terrible expense of others."

The weight of guilt and regret settled over the room like a dense fog, suffocating the very air they breathed. Each word that escaped Lilly's lips carried the weight of a thousand regrets, each syllable heavy with the burden of past mistakes that threatened to crush her spirit.

"E-Everything was going well; we were finally able to turn our lives around. We could pay off our debts, put food on the table, and make sure our daughters got the medicine they needed."

"And then... one day," Lilly's voice cracked with emotion, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "One day, everything came crashing down. We were caught, and exposed for our sins. My husband... he took the fall, sacrificing himself to protect me and our daughters."

A shudder ran through Lilly's body as she relived the painful memories. Vaggie reached out a comforting hand, offering silent support to her friend in her moment of vulnerability.

"But even when they took my husband's life it still wasn't enough. Th-They took my daughters away from me, they ripped them away from my very arms,"

"I couldn't bear it," Lilly whispered, her words barely audible. "I blamed myself for everything that happened. And... and then I ended up here, in Hell. A punishment for my sins."

Silence engulfed the room as Lilly's words hung in the air, heavy with sorrow and remorse. Vaggie felt a lump form in her throat, unable to find the right words to offer solace to her friend.

Lilly's haunted gaze returned to the task at hand, tidying up the room like the mechanical action could somehow tidy up her heartache. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up the cloth once more, avoiding Vaggie's sympathetic gaze.

Vaggie was overwhelmed by Lilly's confession. She found herself at a loss for words, her mind whirling with the harsh reality of Lilly's past. She felt an intense urge to comfort the maid but was unsure how to address such deep-rooted pain.

And so, they stayed that way for several moments - Lilly busying herself with mundane chores in an attempt to chase away the ghosts of her past, and Vaggie silently watching, guilt gnawing at her for unknowingly unearthing such painful memories.

It was Lilly who broke the silence again. "You asked how someone like me ended up here." Her tone was weary, yet steady. "Now you know."

There was an awkward pause before Vaggie finally mustered the courage to speak. "Lilly, I... I'm so sorry. I had no idea…" she stammered; choked with emotion.

Lilly gave her a small, sad smile, "I appreciate that Vaggie, but it's been years now. I've learned to live with the pain."

Vaggie nodded quietly, though a heavy feeling still sat in her chest. She wished desperately that she could do something, anything to help ease Lilly's pain. Words of comfort felt hollow and empty against the enormity of what Lilly had endured.

"But it doesn't make any sense! You did what you did to save your children! Why would you be sent to hell for that?!" Vaggie implored, her usual calm demeanor replaced with a storm of confusion and frustration.

A melancholic smile painted Lilly's face, her eyes briefly meeting Vaggie's before shifting back to the cloth in her hand. "Good intentions don't necessarily equate to good deeds, dear. I chose a path that caused harm to others, a path steeped in sin...no matter how noble the reason behind it was."

"But you didn't deserve this...your family didn't deserve this," Vaggie insisted. The injustice of it all was gnawing at her, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Lilly shrugged lightly, looking incredibly worn out. "Perhaps we didn't, but life rarely gives us what we want, doesn't it?"

There was a sadness in Lilly's words that echoed through the room. It was not just her own sorrow but also the shared grief of countless other souls who had made choices out of desperation only to be punished mercilessly. The heartrending truth of the world was spelled out in every syllable, making the air even heavier than before.

"If you excuse me, my dear. I have to get dinner ready." the sheep demon said, walking out of the room.

Vaggie watched her go silently. . .

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Day 21 

 "What's got you looking so blue, angel?" Alastor asked, sitting down on his usual chair, a warm cup of coffee in both his hands.

Vaggie turned to look at him, her usually vibrant eye clouded with worry. "It's Lilly," she said, grabbing a cup he was offering her from his hands and taking a sip.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, his crimson eyes reflecting curiosity.  "What about her?" he asked, his tone casual but his gaze focused on Vaggie.

"She...she told me her story," Vaggie admitted, her gaze cast down. The memory of Lilly's confession was still fresh in her mind, the intensity of the raw pain that she had shared continued to echo in Vaggie's thoughts.

 "Ah," Alastor understood instantly, a faint frown creasing his forehead. The playful spark in his eyes was replaced with something much softer, much more somber. It wasn't often that Alastor showed sympathy, but when he did it had a powerful impact.

"And you feel troubled because of it," he stated rather than asked, sipping from his coffee. He had known Lilly for quite some time.

Vaggie her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "She doesn't deserve to be here, Alastor," she whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow. "She did what she had to do to save her family, and she's been unjustly punished enough for it."

Alastor remained silent for a while; his gaze fixed on the swirling coffee in his cup.  "Hell is full of people who think they don't deserve to be here," he finally said, his voice uncharacteristically somber. "And while there are some who truly don't deserve to be here like Lilly, the bitter truth is that justice and fairness rarely have a say in where it leads us." 

Vaggie's brow furrowed with frustration, her hands clenching around her cup. "But that's not right," she protested, her words seething with indignation.

Alastor met her gaze, his eyes flashing a deep crimson with a tinge of sadness that was rarely seen.  "No, it's not," he admitted quietly. "But like many things in life and beyond, it's out of our control." 

Vaggie bit her lip, struggling to suppress the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She hated the fact that Alastor was right; there was nothing they could do to change the harsh reality.

Feeling the weight of the conversation settling on them both, Alastor changed the subject gently. "You know, Vaggie," he began in his usual cheery voice, as if sensing her need for a lighter,  "You've been stuck in bed for quite some time now. You should take a stroll, and get some fresh air. A change of scenery might do you some good." 

He snapped his fingers together causing the room to light up as a wheelchair was summoned beside him.

Vaggie turned to stare at Alastor. His gaze met hers evenly, his eyes still bearing a hint of the melancholy from their conversation. But there was also something else there – an understanding of her worries and guilt that she barely expected from him.

"Perhaps you're right," she conceded, offering him a weak smile. It felt like everything around her was tinged with sadness and despair. A walk might indeed help to clear her head.

Alastor's smile returned, brighter than before. "I'm always right, darling," he said smugly, finishing up his coffee. 

With a playful smirk, he wheeled the chair over to Vaggie's side, his long fingers grazing her hand as he helped her settle into it.

Putting his arms underneath her, Vaggie let out a gasp of surprise as he lifted her up in a princess carry and set her down gently into the seat of the wheelchair, it barely took a moment, but her face was burning red as he did so.

"You didn't have to do that! I could've done it by myself!"

Alastor gave her a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Oh, I know you could have," he chuckled, his voice filled with an amusement that somewhat lightened the heavy atmosphere.

 "But you're still hurt and Lilly made it very clear that you are to not to so much as lift a finger before you are fully recovered~" 

He explained, causing the angel to see where he was coming from and the explanation somewhat lessening the blush on her face. But what he said next made the blood come back twofold, her face being almost as red as his suit.

 "Plus, where's the fun in that?" 

"I-! You-! Arrhhh!" She tried to form words, but nothing came out but stutters and gibberish.

With a flick of his wrist, the wheelchair moved on its own accord, heading towards the door that led to the outside of their shared home in hell.

As she adjusted herself in the wheelchair and got over the embarrassment dealt on her, Vaggie couldn't help but reflect on Alastor's earlier words. There was a harsh reality to them; an echo of worldly cynicism that resonated deeply within her.

His perspective, though harsh, offered a strange kind of comfort - the acknowledgment that injustice was a universal experience, not isolated to Lilly or even to Hell.

As they traveled through the rooms, Alastor casually filled Vaggie in on several humorous incidents involving their fellow residents. His cheery voice and animated expressions offered a welcome distraction from the heaviness that had marked their earlier conversation.

Vaggie found herself laughing genuinely at his stories, and for a moment, she managed to push Lilly's tale to the back of her mind.

The angel found her gaze wandering to Alastor as he pushed her along the hallway. She studied his broad shoulders and his typically animated face now drawn into a seemingly happy expression. Despite his devilish exterior and charismatic persona, he too bore scars of his past, hidden under layers of charm and sarcasm.

When they finally reached the garden, Vaggie was met with a feast for her eyes. The gardens were a stark contrast to everything she associated with Hell.

Tamed vines snaked along stone walls, vibrant blooming flowers created flecks of color against the green foliage, and soft lighting made everything seem softer and warmer. Even in hell where everything was nothing but chaos and destruction, beauty could be found.

Alastor came to a gentle stop, letting Vaggie take in the scenery before them. "Quite a sight, isn't it?" he said, turning to look at her. His eyes were bright in the glow of the garden, reflecting the vivid colors that surrounded them. For a moment, Vaggie could almost forget where they were. Almost.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, her gaze shifting from one glorious flower to another. The vibrancy of life around her felt like a calm on her troubled soul.

Alastor leaned against her wheelchair casually, his gaze fixed into the distance.  "I thought it might cheer you up~" he admitted quietly. Vaggie felt a lump form in her throat as she turned to look at him.

"Thank you," she thanked sincerely, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. The gesture was small, but it seemed to speak volumes. "For taking me here."

Vaggie turned to look at him, her eyes tracing his thoughtful expression. There was a depth to Alastor that was easy to overlook when covered by his flamboyant personality and devilish antics.

Yet, a moment like this reminded her of the layers beneath his surface, each one as complex and intricate as the other.

 "…My mother loved to garden." His voice was low and steady as he began to weave a story, the sheer warmth of his words enveloping Vaggie.

It was shocking to her, considering she had been with him for twenty-one days, and not once had he ever shared anything about himself. 

 "She would spend her days out under the sun, singing to her flowers," he continued a whimsical tone underlying his narrative.  "She believed that the beauty of her garden was a reflection of who she is as a person." 

Vaggie found herself entranced by his words, captivated by this rare peek into Alastor's past. Each word painted an image in her mind of a woman tending to her garden, sunlight streaming through her hair as she whispered sweet nothings to each blooming petal with a beautiful smile on her face.

 "She used to spend hours tending to her little patch of earth, planting and pruning with such meticulous care. She said that each plant had its own personality, its own soul," Alastor chuckled, a faraway look in his eyes as if recalling a dream from another life.

Vaggie watched him with mute fascination, her heart expanding with each word he spoke. His voice was dipped in a strange mix of nostalgia and melancholy that left her feeling breathless.

 "She used to bring me out there with her when I was little. Taught me the names of all the flowers and what they symbolize. And showed me how to prune roses without hurting them or myself." Alastor smiled, his lips curving upwards in wistfulness. "She had this magnolia tree she loved more than anything else, well besides me of course~ Said it was the heart of her garden." 

Alastor chuckled softy, his gaze distant. "I used to think it was silly," he confessed ruefully,  "but now..." His voice trailed off as his eyes darted back toward the vibrant scene in front of them.

"Has it been long since you saw her?" Vaggie ventured hesitantly, not wanting to invade Alastor's past but also unable to quell her curiosity. There was so much about him that she didn't know, so many layers of his existence that remained untouched and unexplored.

Alastor's eyes flickered back to Vaggie, the ghost of a smile still lingering on his face. "Well, time's a funny thing here in hell, isn't it?" he replied cryptically. The note of evasion in his voice, however, did not escape her notice.

Before she could press further, he straightened up and turned his attention away from the garden and back onto her.  "Now enough about me," he said, a playful glint returning to his eyes. "I believe we have a garden to explore~!" 

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